Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: The Dvbara Cartel's Plunder
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An era where the universe visible above our heads is no longer myth, but reality.
In space, humanity had split into two massive factions: Mega Corp and the Star Union.
Both were powerful enough to dominate dozens, even hundreds of star systems, but compared to the vast expanse of the universe, they were mere specks of dust.
In the infinite space filled with countless galaxies and celestial bodies, there were far more places their influence couldn't reach.
C-08 was one such place, for example.
A region untouched by Mega Corp, the Star Union, or any other intelligent lifeforms, it was infested with entities far from friendly toward humans.
C-08 was territory controlled by the Space Dogs—and among them, the notoriously brutal Dvbara Cartel.
The Dvbara Cartel.
The infamous raiders were now ravaging their prey that had wandered into their domain.
"Aaaagh! Spare me!"
"Kyaaah!"
Heart-wrenching screams filled the luxurious passenger liner adorned with opulent decorations. Armed guards and innocent victims lay sprawled across the decks.
"Take everything they've got!"
"Kill the men and rape the women!"
The merciless raiders didn't look ordinary. Some had ant heads, others had bodies half-machine. A few cackled while hauling off spoils, while others dragged noblewomen away with lecherous grins.
Though their appearances and actions varied wildly, they shared one thing in common.
A blood-red clover tattoo near their shoulders. Its meaning was singular.
They were under the protection of Elchen Dvbara, the godfather of the Dvbara Cartel.
With every member a former soldier, mercenary, or criminal, the cartel consisted of burly brutes.
They all boasted above-average muscular builds, but one stood out as particularly enormous.
Standing 3 meters tall, his body rippled with muscle. His head resembled a lion's, complete with red mane and beastly ears. His eyes and right arm were mechanical replacements.
A hybrid of human, beast, and machine—he was Elchen Dvbara, patriarch of a 50-strong crime family.
He lounged sideways in the captain's chair, watching his men's pillaging with a bored expression. Piles of tribute from his subordinates towered beside him, yet he showed no interest.
'Chump change. What a waste of time.'
Elchen clicked his tongue. His gaze met that of a prisoner being dragged off by a subordinate—the captain of this very ship.
"Hey, boss! How could you do this to us?!"
"What?"
"We hired your mercenary company for protection! What kind of betrayal is this?!"
Elchen, a Hulk mutant from Mega Corp, was exceptional even among cartel leaders. Strangers might marvel at his genetically engineered bulk, but his true weapon wasn't his body.
Elchen's real weapon was his cunning.
As a Space Dogs cartel, he'd boldly registered as a Mega Corp mercenary outfit. His signature move: strike clients who seemed like easy marks in the back during jobs.
"Dumbass. Only an idiot trusts mercenaries for security."
"What?!"
"You think handing a few credits to strangers makes everything go smoothly? That's the crazy part."
"You shameless...!"
"Why the surprise? You cheaped out to save credits. Mega Corp pigs always do."
"You goddamn mongrel!"
He had no obligation to answer every loser's bark. Elchen responded to the captain's curses by picking his ear.
"By now, Mega Corp's defense forces will have picked up your distress signal and mobilized! When they arrive, you'll all be executed!"
"Ooh, scary. Hey, drag him away."
"Urgh! Death's too good for you scum. I'll tell the defense forces myself—turn you all into Hulk mutants!"
"...Hold up."
Elchen's eyebrow twitched. His beast ears quivered between the mane, mirroring his displeasure.
He hated being told he'd be made into a Hulk mutant. He'd been "hired" by Mega Corp and forcibly gene-modded against his will.
The foolish captain had touched the beast's reverse scale.
Elchen rose and approached. He extended a hand to the subordinate holding the captain, who promptly handed over the machete from his belt.
The jungle knife, dubbed a machete, looked like a dagger in the 3-meter giant's grip. The sight was terrifying—quite, no, extremely so. The captain gulped.
"W-What's that?"
"Listen up, captain. You don't seem to know Mega Corp's mercenary laws, so let me educate you."
"Huh?"
"Betraying a client mid-job is a heavy crime—but if there's no witness to prove it, it's null and void. Got it?"
"What?"
"Calling the defense forces was pointless. No one's left to explain."
Realization dawned; the captain's face drained of color.
"Y-You're planning a total massacre?!"
"Dunno about fancy terms. But one thing's certain..."
Elchen brutally seized the captain by the hair. The man screamed in agony, kicking futilely—mere baby's flailing against monstrous muscle.
"My hobby is skinning Mega Corp pigs."
The machete in Elchen's hand gleamed menacingly.
By the time his "hobby" wrapped up, no living humans remained on the liner. As always, an eerie silence blanketed the plundered ship.
While his men cleaned up, Elchen returned to his assault craft. His pirates lined up to greet him.
"Welcome back."
"Yeah. Take this and handle it like usual."
"Got it."
The vice-captain snatched the face-skin Elchen tossed and vanished. After processing, it'd adorn Elchen's throne.
"Oh yeah, didn't we have more business today?"
"What do you mean?"
"Not you. Fetch Garlic."
Moments later, a subordinate brought a petite woman.
Black hair, glasses—she was the cartel's sole female member. Her comrades called her Garlic from the scent she carried.
With long hair draped over hunched shoulders, she looked timid to anyone. Trembling, Garlic greeted Elchen.
"H-Hi, boss? Y-You called?"
"Yeah. Something about work nearby. Status?"
"W-Well, we were supposed to meet today, but they suddenly went radio silent..."
"What?"
"Eek?!"
Garlic shrank under Elchen's scowl.
Any other subordinate would've gotten their skull cracked, but Garlic was the cartel's smartest. Whatever her origins, she was clever and obedient—worth keeping.
Elchen calmed and demanded details.
"Explain properly."
"A-An acquaintance of mine is on a research ship under Captain Yuseong Samuel. They asked us to dispose of a body from there."
"Samuel family? They're here?"
"You know them?"
"Titan's Third Capital. Must be chasing food to come this far. Fine. Whose body?"
"N-Noble Capital. A woman from the Yujin Family..."
Titan's Third Capital dumping a Earth Noble Capital's body? Considering the gap, it was plausible yet impossible.
"Crazy bastards. What's their offer?"
"L-Last comms, they said a million credits."
"A million?"
Elchen snorted.
He knew how obsessively Noble Capitals honored their dead. Even 10 million—no, 100 million credits wouldn't tempt them.
'A conspiracy.'
Elchen knew Mega Corp's mood was off lately. Rumors swirled of Mars' upstart Ezerton challenging Earth's ancient royal Yujin Family.
Unrelated to him as a Space Dog, but he smelled credits.
Ezerton's public business was shipbuilding, but they poured resources into covert gene mods.
Elchen knew their secrets firsthand—he was a prototype Hulk mutant from their black-site project.
'Wait. Snag the body and hand it to Ezerton?'
Whoever the corpse was, a Yujin meant extreme gene tweaks. Ezerton would pay a fortune for that essence.
Elchen despised Ezerton, but grudges and credits were separate.
'Better yet, pit Ezerton against Yujin—they destroy each other, I win.'
Resolved to steal the body, Elchen asked Garlic again.
"Radio silence? Attacked?"
"N-Not sure..."
"Some ballsy pig's stirring in our turf, huh?"
Elchen stood, barking orders.
"Launch as soon as cleanup's done. Target: Yuseong Samuel's ship. Prep comms trace."
"Yes, sir!"
Leaving his efficient men, Elchen pondered next moves.
Garlic quietly withdrew from her brooding boss.
Boarding his cleaned-up men, the Dvbara assault ship vanished via FTL.
The abandoned liner exploded into cosmic dust soon after. No one knew a group of poor souls had existed here.
'Hm?'
I opened my eyes from rest. A faint impact rippled from the hull exterior. Space debris? No—the vibrations felt deliberate, artificial.
Like someone knocking to get inside.
'It's them.'
I focused my nest-linked senses on the source. The ship's hull felt like my own body; the intruder's outline sharpened.
Unlike the research ship's rounded oval, this was a slender warship evoking a blade. A red clover was painted on its surface.
'Only Space Dogs graffiti ships.'
The warship pressed tight for forced docking. Plasma cutters breached the hull; figures slipped inside.
'Fast.'
Pro fleet tactics—disciplined. They beelined for the bridge.
'Smart or stupid?'
Any sapient would sense this ship's wrongness, yet they charged without hesitation.
Yuseong's research vessel was unrecognizable now.
Engineered for harsh space, this pinnacle of tech was defenseless against an Aimorph.
Seamless alloy corridors were corroded by dark brown tendrils into veiny horrors. Ceilings and floors spewed neurotoxin-acid mixes nonstop. Melted panels were replaced by nest slime.
Without guidance, no one would peg this as artificial.
In a way, this "garden," tailored for one being, belonged to me—the Aimorph.
Like tomb robbers blinded by greed, they didn't grasp where they'd tread.
I'm monitoring from my second nest in the lab.
The clueless intruders fiddled with bridge comms. My enhanced psionic organ via nest read the signals.
The thug-talking one seems the boss, radiating unmatched presence. He crossed to the research ship.
'Hulk mutant.'
Two high-output modified hearts thumped from his body. Faint EM waves on his skin suggested multiple cybernetics.
His men followed. I tallied them one by one.
'Pheromones mean Insectman from the Chungin tribe. This one's got mechanical heartbeats—Star Union cyborg. Multi-species cartel. Perfect.'
Subadult evolution needs 10 kills and genes from two player races each. Humans filled half; now 10 from another race.
Not any—must be 10 of the exact same species.
'Star Union has 12 so far—most. Let's see.'
In-game, other races didn't count separately, but reality might differ. Lore-wise, they're human like Mega Corp. Only eating will tell if human or distinct.
Waiting yielded 29 total intruders. Thought that was it—then one more human crossed.
'Huh?'
Utterly average. I'd dismissed it, but something felt off.
'Can a person be this ordinary?'
Over 100 humans devoured, none were "normal" or average. Every body had unique rhythms, like fingerprints.
This one didn't. Like a machine stamped from humanity's statistical average.
Artificial. Brain swapped for a computer meticulously "acting" average.
'...Person of interest. Remember.'
No more boarded. My turn.
I unlinked from the nest and rose. Nearby, Specimen 026 reacted.
She puffed sulkily, but no dice.
Heading to their warship next.
I pointed to the Plasma Launcher in the corner. Human-made irony: a human-killer on break post-mission.
Does she grasp "trust"? Anyway, she bounced happily at the duty.
With her send-off, I exited the cryo chamber.
Enemy vigilance is lax—prime chance to sabotage their ship. Destroy the power core to trap them.
Then, two options: split forces to guard both ships, or concentrate on one.
Greedy as they are, they'll split into raiders and defenders.
When they disperse—that's when my hunt begins.
As always.