Clues (2)

The Great Leader is a player too.

As of now, the players I knew of totaled four.

Muriel, the Spacedog player who was a cyborg capable of transforming into another species. Mother of the Sky, a Wolf. And the two players backing Muriel — one from Mega Corp, one from the Cult.

Now a Star Union player had joined that list.

If the Star Union ends up as an enemy, that's going to be a headache.

They were a faction built around machinery, which made them a fundamentally poor match for an Amorph that grew by harvesting Genetic Essence. No matter how many of them I devoured, I couldn't get stronger off them.

And unlike Mega Corp or the Cult, there was no intricate web of political factions I could exploit for deception when dealing with the Star Union.

Mega Corp was split among multiple great families; the Cult seethed with rival political factions. But the power structure of the Star Union was singular and absolute.

The Machine Council.

And the head of that Machine Council was the Great Leader. In other words, making an enemy of him meant making an enemy of the Star Union entire.

No. Nothing's confirmed yet. No point worrying before it's certain.

There was a far more pressing question.

Which Mega Corp player was working with him?

Someone with access to Hulk Mutant modification technology, and easy reach into the Star Union's upper echelons.

Then it occurred to me — the Mega Corp player who had been supporting Muriel.

Could it be?

I had assumed the player assisting her was a high official of the Garmelda family. Improving and distributing equipment to players had always been a hallmark of the Garmelda players.

But thinking it over again — every piece of gear she had used was Star Union manufacture.

Psionium was, in the setting, an awakening drug traded in Mega Corp's black markets, but it had originally been developed in the Star Union. The Blood Reaver was likewise equipment only a cyborg could produce.

At the time, I'd assumed Muriel the cyborg had acquired it, and the Garmelda player had then refined it.

But if that was wrong — if three parties were entangled here: the Star Union player, the Garmelda player, and Muriel…

No. Not enough evidence.

The Blood Reaver was a Unique-grade piece of equipment, true, but not difficult to produce if you could cover the manufacturing cost. A ranker like Muriel could secure one without breaking a sweat.

And even supposing there was another Star Union player backing Muriel, nothing guaranteed that player was the Great Leader.

I should treat them as two separate factions.

The people supporting Muriel, and the people behind the Screamers. Assuming those were two distinct factions was the rational read.

Whether the two were cooperating with each other, I couldn't say. If they were, then my list of enemies ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would grow — the Screamer faction joining the Muriel supporters.

Nothing's certain yet.

I forced a stop to the endless chain of speculation.

Paying close attention to everything was no bad thing, but excessive caution was another matter entirely.

Returning to first principles: the Mega Corp player who cooperated in creating the Screamers had to be at least Prime Capital. There was no other way to wield genetic modification technology.

And if they could produce Hulk Mutants, the range shrank further. beings made through genetic modification by Prime Capital — like the Egerton family knights I'd seen before — topped out at Enhanced Human. To build a Hulk Mutant, you needed to climb all the way to Noble Capital.

And among the Noble Capital, the family with the finest gene-modification craft is the Yujin family.

Sihyeon Yujin and Code Black — the two I'd fought before. Both were works of art produced by the Yujin family.

Despite carrying a multitude of genes in a single body, neither had shown the slightest sign of struggling with side effects. No other Noble Capital house could craft that cleanly.

But then again, I doubt the Screamers actually needed technology that refined.

I examined the Screamers once more. Externally they were cyborgs, but on close inspection a few discrepancies stood out.

This section here is extracted Coldblood hardening-gene tissue, and this change looks like the product of a muscle-reinforcement gene.

All of them were Hulk Mutants synthesized from just two or three genes. Other Noble Capital families could manage Hulk Mutants at this level without trouble.

Getting muddled.

In this state, there was no way to guess who was behind the Screamers.

So I laid out my conjectures for the other player — Mother of the Sky.

"Being a cyborg is a mandatory condition for seeing the ending, so the Great Leader being a player actually tracks."

[Zzzz.(That's right.)]

"Maybe the Garmelda ranker you suspected has gone into league with the Great Leader."

[Zzzzzzz.(Why do you think that?)]

"Screamers are classified as half organism, half machine. If someone's going to mass-produce Hulk Mutants to serve as Screamer material, they'd need a solid grasp of machinery and weapons engineering too."

A fair point. In the field of mechanical weaponry rather than biological, the Garmelda family outstripped the Yujin family.

"Heck, maybe both families are in on it together."

[Zzz Zzzzz Zzzzzzz Zzzzz.(Players in both families?)]

"Honestly, I think that's a long shot, but you never know. And even if it's not true, a player in one family could have talked the other into it."

[Zzzzzz Zzzzzzzz Zzzzzz.(Sounds like a stretch, but I'll keep it in mind.)]

"If anything comes back to me, or I find a clue, I'll tell you right away."

In the end, I came away without any concrete information about the Screamers' creation. Only the supposition that a player had been involved.

Which leaves…

…the fresh prey No. 26 had brought me.

"Big Baby, eat quick! It gets gross if it sits too long!"

｢Denial.｣｢Not.｣｢Gross.｣

"Quiet."

In the game, killing Screamers had never yielded Genetic Essence. They were half organism, half machine, but the system classified them as machines.

But that isn't the case here.

A Hulk Mutant was a treasure trove of Genetic Essence. If I killed these still-living Screamers, every trait packed inside them would become mine, whole.

Should I use the Hunter's Avatar?

The Avatar massively increased the odds of triggering Predation when I devoured prey. It was the sole means available when I needed to secure a large volume of Genetic Essence at once.

The downside was the aftereffect once the transformation ran its course. That change devoured enormous quantities of energy, and when the transformation ended, a crushing hunger would come crashing down. Even I could barely hold onto my reason through it.

Those Hulk Mutants — exactly one of them has a Genetic Essence that looks worthwhile.

From my earlier inspection, one of the Screamers had carried a Coldblood Genetic Essence inside its body.

Coldbloods carry a lot of internal-organ traits.

So far I had unlocked four Types ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in total, with three more whose conditions were already met and waiting. Originally there had been only two — the Special Defense Type and the Space Monster Type — but a few hours ago I had swallowed a Star Union personnel supply ship whole and unlocked a new one.

The personnel supply ship I had consumed had been carrying a remarkably diverse range of sapient lifeforms. Thanks to that, I'd managed to stockpile internal-organ traits that were otherwise hard to come by.

Where ordinary physical traits reinforced the body's frame, the Internal Organ Type focused on strengthening and remodeling the organs within. Less suited to direct combat, it was a Type specialized in supporting every other line of traits.

Most traits in this line are duds, but a few pay off spectacularly.

The only internal-organ trait of mine worth calling useful right now was the Revenant Organ, built from Apparent Death as its material — but there were quite a few other serviceable ones mixed in.

Traits that remodel the nervous system in particular synergize beautifully with psychic traits.

Just as infection traits paired well with nest traits, psychic traits had synergy with several of the internal-organ line.

Beyond that, the traits that raised the energy efficiency of my constant roaming were also classified under the Internal Organ Type.

Of course, there's no guarantee I'll gain them just by eating.

I stared at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Screamers, still breathing, and wavered.

Come to think of it, Clever Underdog supposedly conserves energy.

That was what the description had said. After a moment's deliberation, I made my decision.

Let's test it this time.

There could come a day when I had to use the Hunter's Avatar while in Clever Underdog form. If I verified it now, while no direct crisis loomed over me, I wouldn't hit complications later.

I warned the kids that I might lose my mind again, and told them that if I did, to swiftly pass me another corpse.

"Big Baby must've been SO hungry. Poor thing."

｢Big Adult.｣｢Glutton.｣

No. 26 sent a wave of pity; Adhai sent a thought-burst laced with mockery. I gave the two of them a long look, then turned to Mother of the Sky one last time.

She gave a silent nod. I'll cover you — don't worry.

Only then, reassured, I activated the Hunter's Avatar.

"Damn it all!"

Keynes-Q, captain of Ship 98, spat curses at the biometric display that kept flashing into the red. Ever since the unknown monster's assault had begun, his lines of contact with the cyborgs had been dropping one after another.

Worse, the Screamers he'd received from the Machine Council were dying at an accelerating rate. Keynes-Q knew the Screamers had been built from criminals — but he also knew that those war machines were devastatingly effective in combat.

Weapons that powerful being slaughtered helplessly meant the enemy was anything but ordinary.

"Redirect emergency power. Reactivate the cameras."

Ship 98 delivered the only sliver of good news it had, but Keynes-Q could not let himself relax.

Goddammit — there's more than one of them!

With the drone management station destroyed, the camera footage from the drones couldn't be accessed remotely — but the androids were a different story.

He couldn't adjust the camera options from here the way he could with the ship's systems, but he could at least see what the androids were looking at.

Syncing his vision with the feeds of dozens of androids, Keynes-Q finally laid eyes on the monsters that had boarded his ship.

Two creatures invisible to every sensor, a four-legged furry beast, and a pink balloon-shaped monster wielding some unknown power.

He had never seen their like — not even in the Star Union's beast fighting pits.

"What's the analysis on them?"

"Analyzing unidentified organisms, Types C and D. Type C: extremely agile frame, high-density claws and beak. Type D: estimated to wield high-density prophet-grade psychic power."

"And A and B? Those bastards don't even show up on camera. Why is that?"

"Type B: confirmed capable of high-speed flight. Judging by the damage sustained by androids at the moment of attack, estimated at fighter-craft velocity or greater."

"…How many drones on this ship are capable of autonomous navigation?"

"With the drone management station destroyed, currently six."

"Tch. Transfer every scrap of data we've gathered to those drones."

"Transferring."

"After I've gone out, launch them on autopilot. Set them to broadcast a distress signal ten hours from now."

"Confirmed."

With those words, Keynes-Q pulled the cables from the back of his skull. He was doing this for one reason: to somehow get information out to his fleet — the Nemea Fleet.

The way they're striking key facilities first — these aren't just brutes with raw strength.

Monsters that moved this strategically would anticipate him fleeing aboard a fighter. And if there was no way out anyway, then he would fight to the last.

The Nemea Fleet will avenge me. You monster bastard!

He rose from his seat and gathered the weapons stocked in the situation room. As he armed himself and moved for the door, Ship 98 reported.

"Configuration complete."

"…Good. Nice work."

"We wish you a pleasant voyage."

It was the same message the ship always printed whenever he left the situation room — so why did it sound, this time, like a send-off for his resolve?

Keynes-Q emerged into a corridor swallowed by darkness.

Countless cyborgs and androids had been destroyed, and yet the passage outside the situation room was perfectly still.

A pulse gun — a lightweight variant of the Stormgun — in one hand, he piloted his drone terminal with the other. A sleek, spherical drone floated up above his head.

The androids and Screamers had been annihilated, and the odds of a man less heavily armed than either of them beating these monsters were slim to none.

Doesn't matter.

His revenge was already in motion. He clenched his jaw shut and stared down the length of the corridor.

As he stood gazing into that darkness, a strange resonance suddenly shivered through him.

He had spent long years aboard this ship, yet the vibration rising through the deck beneath his feet was deeply unfamiliar. That alien thrum set the alloy walls lining the corridor vibrating in a single, uniform rhythm.

It's coming!

Keynes-Q's grip tightened white around the pulse gun. Barely moments after the uncanny vibration reached him, he heard a sound.

It resembled the breathing of a Screamer, but rougher and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠far deeper. Something like the roar of a superluminal engine spinning up — but more savage.

Keynes-Q had no trouble recognizing it for what it was: the monster, growling.

Damn it! Where is it?

The sound and vibration kept drawing closer, yet the thing itself never showed. The scout drone, too, found nothing, only circling endlessly around it.

I can hear its footsteps, but it doesn't show even in thermal… wait. Sound?

Keynes-Q hastily switched the drone's sensors and adjusted his own vision — to a mode that mapped its shape through vibration and waveform.

And there it was, standing at the far end of the corridor.

The thing filled the passage wall to wall, and its form was the very picture of terror.

Six horns, long and thick enough to graze the ceiling, crowned a face like an animal's skull.

The snout thrust forward in a long muzzle was clamped around the severed head of a Screamer, and where eyes should have been, jagged spines and bone plates crowded together. Depending on the angle, those spines and plates almost looked like eyes — which only made it worse.

Beneath its jaw sat four sharpened bone blades, every bit as menacing as the horns, twitching without pause as if already poised to carve an enemy apart.

Below that, its body was shrouded in long fur, impossible to read. Only when it breathed, and its legs briefly showed through the pelt, could he guess that the thing had more than two of them.

"……"

Face to face with it, Keynes-Q felt his will to fight drain out of him entirely.

The idea of buying time against that thing was worse than a sick joke.

"Enemy contact."

If the drone hadn't reported, he would have died rooted to the spot. Jolted back to himself, he bolted down the corridor in the opposite direction, running like a madman.

The moment he fled, the monster swallowed the Screamer's head in one gulp and moved. Every stride of its enormous frame made the corridor thunder.

Running himself half to death, Keynes-Q felt a hideous pressure closing on the back of his neck and ducked his head fast. In the same instant, a blade on the monster's jaw sheared across the corridor. Solid alloy wall parted as cleanly as paper under scissors.

"Hk!"

He dodged the blow, but his footing shattered. Keynes-Q made it only a few more steps before he went down flat.

"H-hiihk!"

Seeing his death coming, he squeezed his eyes shut.

But the killing blow never fell. He cracked one eye open — and the monster's face was right there in front of his nose.

"You're the captain, aren't you?"

"……"

A woman's voice drifted from the monster's mouth. He was so tightly wound that he couldn't force out an answer.

The monster asked again, to the man trembling in place.

"I'll ask one last time. Are you the captain or not?"

"Y-yes! Yes!"

Apparently satisfied with the answer, the monster drew its head back.

So this was what it felt like to pull a trigger against your own temple and get a misfire. Having come back from the brink, Keynes-Q let out a long, shaking breath.

Then the monster's next act froze him solid.

"Nearly killed someone useful just now."

As it spoke, the monster extended one arm. Beneath the thick fur of its hide, something was squirming, pushing its way out.

"The one you'll be serving from now on is not the Star Union."

Watching the black worm that wriggled free of the fur, Keynes-Q found himself wishing he could simply pass out.