Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: The True Predator
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Bear, lion, wolf.
These are carnivores we commonly encounter through the media. In portrayals, they appear as killing machines or incarnations of violence that fear no battle.
Machines designed solely for slaughter.
'Is that really the case?'
Those in the know understand—it's not true. Most carnivores avoid fights they deem too costly. In the wild, even a minor injury can prove fatal.
Real predators are closer to cowards than merciless terminators.
This isn't disparagement. That caution, which might seem cowardly, is precisely what elevates carnivores to true hunters.
I, an avid Aimorph player, had etched nature's lessons deep into my heart.
No matter how powerful my traits.
No matter how much more information I held than anyone else.
'Without caution, they're worthless.'
Keeping that in mind, I probed for my enemies.
Arnold's heartbeat remained steady. The tension he'd feigned moments ago was pure acting.
While people died around him, he'd analyzed me and adapted. He might not know about my auxiliary organs or enhanced vision, but he was aware I possessed something akin to a biometric radar.
'Impressive.'
I'd deliberately slaughtered the soldiers cruelly to instill fear, but it hadn't fazed him.
He carried the scent of a hunter like me. The aroma of a seasoned predator.
Unlike me, taught by nature itself, I wondered who his master could have been.
The Plasma Pistol roared again. A blob of searing energy scorched the spot where I'd stood moments before.
With legs as sturdy as a wild horse's, I dashed across the bridge, pondering my assault.
'First off, his biggest weakness is the location.'
This was the bridge situation room, crammed with sensitive electronics. Even if the Plasma Pistol was relatively weak among plasma weapons, it was still potent enough to punch through thick alloy plating. One errant shot could trigger any number of disasters.
'He hadn't planned to use it.'
In the future glimpsed by Predator Sense, Arnold had drawn his pistol only right before death. He knew firing inside the ship was unwise.
"Crisis Management Team Leader! Don't forget this is the situation room!"
"Watch out for the equipment!"
"…I'll be careful."
Yuseong fussed, echoed by the team leaders. Yet Arnold showed no intention of holstering his pistol, despite his words.
'Right. Me over the ship, huh?'
In his hierarchy of risks, I apparently ranked higher than the vessel's safety.
It made sense. I was the sole wrench in his plans. Better to take me down here, even if the ship suffered.
But powerful weapon aside, Arnold had his share of liabilities.
His duty was to protect the captain and team leaders. He couldn't reach C-08 alone—some were essential for navigation.
'Plenty of weaknesses, but…'
My position wasn't ideal either. The open space offered clear lines of fire. Without computer consoles for cover, I'd have been hit long ago.
Whenever I edged toward the team leaders or captain, Arnold checked me with his pistol. When I ducked behind a console, he held fire.
"Rat bastard."
Arnold spat curses from afar. He looked impatient, irritated—but his heartbeat told me otherwise.
'That's a feint.'
He wanted this standoff to drag on. While pinning me down, he used his communicator to summon shipboard forces.
"This is the bridge situation room. A monster has attacked. All available personnel, assemble here."
'Playing it that way, are you?'
That bearish fox was using his trump card to buy time. He aimed to corner me here, but planned to leave the killing to his soldiers.
The pistol had indeed forced me passive—his ploy was working.
'Ha. Fooling me? How amusing.'
That level of judgment placed him mid-tier among Space Survival players. After feasting on lambs, encountering a wolf among them was tense indeed.
My first crisis since becoming a Juvenile, against a tricky foe.
It had been ages since such a scenario—my fighting spirit surged.
'Gotta end it before reinforcements arrive…'
I dodged an energy bolt and hunkered behind machinery.
As I mulled escapes, a fire extinguisher caught my eye. Its design differed from Earth's, but it spewed the same white, smoky agent.
'That'll do.'
I snatched it, yanking the pin with the small hand on my chest plate.
Arnold appeared behind me, pistol raised. Before he could fire, I triggered the extinguisher. White foam erupted from the hose, blinding him.
"Gah?! Cheap tricks!"
Green energy lanced through the haze toward me. I flattened to the deck, evading, then scuttled on six limbs—four combat arms and legs. My chest hand kept spraying foam everywhere.
"Cough! Cough!"
"I can't see a thing!"
The sealed room filled with suppressant. Coughs echoed from survivors.
"You morons! Are those weapons just for show?!"
"S-sorry, sir!"
The comms officers fumbled for laser pistols. But in the foam-choked murk, their shots posed no threat.
"Where is it?"
"No way? Damn it! Everyone, get the captain out!"
Arnold, reading my intent, bellowed. He figured I'd target the captain, the ship's heart.
Sharp instincts—but wrong mark.
The Kitchen Team Leader lay before me. My tail withdrew its stinger from his gut.
Like a beast eyeing herbivore throat, my fangs sank into his carotid. Blood and flesh flowed in; the organ in my throat responded.
Now I could mimic his voice.
"Not that way! The captain's over here!"
"Huh?"
The blinded foes faltered at my words. The captain was nearby—suddenly, someone else claimed otherwise.
"Don't fall for it! It's using disruption tactics!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
Arnold harangued his men, but chaos reigned. They'd heard A and B Teams wiped out over comms, never dreaming it'd be them.
As they wavered, my claws claimed another victim. His ornate uniform bespoke high rank.
In his voice, I shouted:
"Don't get fooled! It killed the team leader!"
"N-Navigation Team Leader?"
The voice belonged to the Navigation Team Leader—second only to the captain. Higher than Arnold.
"It's mimicking the team leader!"
"Filthy beast! Don't listen!"
"I'm the Navigation Team Leader! Trust me!"
"Damn idiots! That's the monster! Shoot it dead!"
Arnold couldn't tell, but I sensed it: the rattled comms officers' muzzles wavered between him and me.
In the mist-shrouded void, where vision failed, faith was tested. One side: godlike team leader. The other: abyss-spawned horror. What would they choose?
"U-uaaaagh! Fuck!"
One comms officer decided. His laser pistol swung toward the foe shrouded in doubt's fog.
Red flash cleaved the foam. A light-speed trail passed; the stench of seared flesh permeated the gas.
"Guh!"
Arnold groaned in agony.
His right shoulder was charred black from the laser. His pistol hand sagged toward the floor. A direct hit would've severed the arm—this was harvest enough.
'Opportunity.'
The ploy targeting comms officers succeeded. In combat, numbers aren't always superior—uncoordinated allies are worse than foes.
He should've fled the room with the others, not engaged to kill me personally. That was his gravest error.
"Da-damn…!"
Undeterred, he gripped the pistol left-handed. With ammo left, he'd fight to the end. A model soldier, but he'd picked the wrong adversary.
Vents slowly cleared the foam. I darted through the thinning white veil.
"Nngh! There?!"
Shoulder wound dulling his aim? The plasma bolt grazed past. A mere brush, yet ultrahot energy scarred my combat arm.
Pain flooded my mind, nearly drawing a scream—I endured.
No time to falter. The enemy wouldn't wait.
Vibrations from the charging Plasma Pistol registered.
Seconds till the grim reaper's verdict. My tail still too distant to strike.
Thus, my final card.
Back muscles obeyed. What humans call the trapezius split wide. From the fissure, something black and massive emerged.
Untapped since Juvenile.
My first trait as an Aimorph.
Two vast wings unfurled. My body closed the gap in an instant.
His face loomed large. His pupils reflected the winged Aimorph.
In russet irises gleamed an Aimorph baring fangs.
His trigger finger tensed; mankind's death-god bellowed.
Yet the vicious bolt never found its mark.
Behind me, the wayward plasma slammed alloy walls—like victory salutes.
At the triumph's center, Arnold's head dangled from my jaws.
"Team Leader!"
A comms officer recovered, leveling his laser at me. Head in mouth, I fixed him with a stare.
"…Eek!"
No leisure to savor. Auxiliaries warned of approaching soldiers—time to vanish.
Feast deferred.
I brushed past the officer. He froze like deer before tiger. He stirred not as I clambered into the vent.