Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Pirate Hunt
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“...”
Normally, this would be the time to chatter excitedly and revel in the looting. But not a single soul opened their mouth.
It was because of Elchen, huffing and puffing from behind like an enraged bull.
Having lost his precious battleship in the blink of an eye, Elchen was desperately trying to swallow his rage and regain his composure. One of his underlings approached him hesitantly.
“B-Boss.”
“What?”
“Biological scanner picked up a human. Says it's in the captain's quarters.”
“And?”
“Th-The door's blocked. We'll have to cut through it.”
“You fucking moron, do you ask my permission even to take a piss?”
“N-No, sir!”
It was code for handle it yourself. The underling got to work with his comrades, preparing to breach.
The demolition specialist unslung the plasma cutter from his back and assembled it. He secured it to the door and fiddled with the terminal linked to the machine.
The cutter whirred to life, firing a green beam. The hyper-condensed energy slug punched a hole through the door, over 50cm thick.
By the time thick smoke blanketed the corridor, the captain's quarters door was breached. One pirate poked his head in to scout—and a bullet whistled out from inside.
“Gah!”
“Fuck! Everyone, cover!”
Starting with the pirate crumpling, head perforated, bullets rained down from the captain's quarters like a storm.
The pirates ducked behind walls and drew their weapons. As they geared up to fire back, Elchen shoved forward.
“Move, you worthless fucks.”
Thanks to his genetic mods, his skin was tough enough to shrug off anything short of a direct plasma launcher hit. Amid the bullet hail, Elchen strolled in like he was out for a casual walk.
He gripped the melted edge of the door hole and heaved. The 50cm-thick steel bent like putty dough. With that monstrous display of strength, he stormed into the captain's quarters and kicked off the slaughter.
“Aaaagh!”
“M-Monster!”
Every time Elchen's fist sliced the air, crewmen turned to meat pulp. His underlings laid down covering fire on the enemy while the boss rampaged.
The crew inside became corpses in the wink of an eye—except for one. As Elchen closed in to finish him off, the man yelled.
“W-Wait! I-I surrender!”
“Surrender? The Dvbara Cartel doesn't do that shit.”
“I'm this ship's Medical Team Leader! I'll be useful, I swear!”
Elchen eased the tension in his fist.
“Doctor?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Where's the captain? Why's a doc in his quarters?”
Now that he thought about it, the captain wasn't among the ones he'd smashed.
“That goddamn mutt... ahem. Captain went for the escape pods.”
“Escape pods? Ditched his crew and bailed?”
“No clue if he made it out clean, but yeah.”
The Medical Team Leader was trembling, but his betrayal-fueled anger leaked through. Things were getting messy, and irritation bubbled up in Elchen.
The battleship was trashed, and the guy who knew where the corpse was had bolted for escape pods. Elchen toyed with killing the doc but thought better of it.
“Hey, brainiac.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Doctor like you knows where the corpse is, right?”
“Uh, y-yeah.”
“They said the Noble Capital corpse is here. Where?”
“......”
Even the Medical Team Leader had no idea where Kisaragi Yujin's body was.
But telling the truth felt like a one-way ticket to no tomorrow, so he lied.
“Th-The monster's got it!”
“That fucker again? Why the hell would a monster haul a corpse?”
“It eats people.”
That meant Elchen was on a ticking clock. He tsked and rallied his men.
“Listen up. Doc says the monster's got the body. No time to comb in packs, so fan out and hunt it down. Clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
“That bastard's no joke—minimum six per group. Comm in the second shit hits the fan. Slack off, and I'll cave your skull personally.”
“Got it, Boss!”
“You. Stick with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
The underlings barked affirmatives and scattered.
The Medical Team Leader watched them bolt, wondering if he should spill now—but terror of Elchen sealed his lips.
“Yo, Doc.”
“Yes?”
“You wanna be a pirate, right? Perfect—we're short a doctor.”
“Uh, y-yeah.”
“Know your way around genetic mods?”
“Pardon? O-Of course! Leave it to me!”
Elchen's nonstop chatter killed the doc's window to speak. The crucial intel that the monster could mimic human voices? Buried.
‘Pity.’
Thought the crew would last longer, but it wrapped up anticlimactically. Then again, with the boss being a Hulk mutant, par for the course.
Hulk mutants get dropped to wreck tanks and bipedal mechs in ground ops. Regular crew nicking one would be a miracle.
Boss massacred all but one crewman. Couldn't see who lived, but it was obvious enough.
‘Doctor, bet.’
Space Dogs are a meat grinder. Criminals, war orphans, slum rats, washed-up soldiers, mercs—constant inflow, constant body count. High turnover means docs get the red-carpet treatment.
Whatever, doc turning pirate? None of my business. No survivors planned anyway.
Captain's quarters skirmish ended quicker than hoped, but the enemy played right into my expectations.
‘Scattering, as predicted.’
Boss and one sketchy goon aside, the rest split into six-man squads for the hunt.
Pirates' gear's all over the map, so no clue what they're packing. One thing's sure: their moves scream pro.
‘Near regular army tier.’
Even the insectman from the research ship fought to the bitter end. Not like those subpar research grunts—treat 'em as proper soldiers.
‘They're spread nice and thin. Time to roll.’
Stepping from the nest, 26 tagged along.
｢Baby, together.｣
[Zzuzu (stay inside)]
｢No.｣
[Zzuzu (why?)]
｢Me help too.｣
Acting like a kid dying to help Dad. Hoisted her atop the nest, but she hopped right back down.
No quit in her, so I recalced the threats.
‘Boss and weirdo excluded, doable.’
Pirate scraps? I've had my fill. Gear unknown, but I can adapt to whatever.
Plus, teaming with 26 long-term means she needs battle reps. Can't babysit forever.
‘She needs real combat time. Won't drag me down, even sans direct kills.’
Decision made: greenlit her company.
[Zzuzu zz zuzuzuzu (enemies scary, careful)]
｢Yeah! Baby careful!｣
She hopped onto my shoulder. Lovable little pest either way.
‘Where to start.’
Four groups total. Targets: armory, galley, cargo hold, lab. Plunder lifestyle shines through.
‘Armory first.’
Nest tendrils wrecked most weapons there, but some still kick. Let 'em snag those? Headache.
26 and I headed for the armory.
Nearing it, they pinged my senses. Six pirates bustling to breach the armory.
“What kinda plant climbs the damn door?”
“Yo, plasma cutter needs those cleared first.”
Demo guy aside, the rest whipped out machetes.
If it were normal flora, solid call.
‘But it ain't.’
Unknown foe? Proceed with caution. Their rush? Straight to doom.
“Hah!”
A goon swung wide, lopping spores. They popped, spraying slime everywhere.
“Fuck?! What the—?”
“Heh, looks like jizz.”
“You got splashed too, dipshit.”
Slime boy cursed; buddy cracked vulgar jokes, cackling. Clueless to the peril.
Laughter flipped to shrieks quick.
“U-Uwaaaah?!”
“My faaace! Aaaah!”
“Wh-What?!”
Acid slime facial: skin and muscle sloughed off, jawbone dropped. Nerve slime fingers: full-body lockdown, flop.
They handed me an opening—graciously accepted.
I charged, hauling my bulked frame.
“Hey? It's the thing!”
“Monster's here!”
“F-Fuck? Ain't like the footage!”
Duh. That sitroom vid was pre-body enhancement type.
Did hit sitroom again for siege-munchers, but smoked it up.
TL;DR: intel drought. Massive risk jumping in blind.
Slammed the nearest pirate.
“Kuhak!”
Out spewed blood laced with organ chunks. Internals mangled, obvious. Tail-whacked the half-corpse to finish.
Meantime, alert pirates unpacked heat, unloading. Seasoned vets—snappy response. Research ship scrubs? Ambush-frozen.
Red energy blobs wove a firewall, hammering my chitinous exoskeleton.
‘Pre-type? Dicey.’
Now? Worlds tougher, thicker. Dark brown bordering black gleams, sheathing head, chest, limbs.
Full-plate space knight reborn. Armored lancer charge dubbed “medieval tank”? Same vibe.
Ignored the barrage, barreled on. Boom—front pirate pulped to gore.
No brakes: upper arms birthed saw-blade tentacles. Fanged serpents, coiling waists.
“Kek?!”
“Agyak!”
Waists sawed open, guts gushed.
“D-Die!”
Horrid deaths snapped one pirate; he bull-rushed me.
Insectman breed. Human-plus physique, figured CQC viable. Reality? Bitchslapped expectations.
Machete? My tail bisected it. Lining up the kill, but shoulder-perched 26 pounced.
“Kururuk!”
Pink translucent bubble latched his mug—insectman baffled. Then agony tsunami.
26 melted his antennae.
Claws out for 26-tear.
‘Not on my watch.’
First hunt for her—no ouchies. Tail-nicked neurotoxin jab. Froze like time-stopped.
Insectman hers; one left. Demo dude comming for backup, not engaging.
“H-Here! Monster showed!”
Slipped behind, four arms clamped tight.
“Hiiik?! B-Backup qui—Gek!”
Jaws agape pre-sentence end; chomped skull. Aimorph crunch pulverized cranium, contents mush.
｢What? Where at?｣
Gulped brain fast, throat organ online.
“Grk, keh, nothing.”
｢Huh?｣
“My bad. All clear here.”
｢You crazy fuck? Wrong channel for games.｣
“Sorry.”
Clicked off. Armory squad cleared.
‘Pocket the comm?’
Prime for jamming plays. Pirates won't pull rank-and-serial crap.
Snagged it, approached 26—mid-feast. Vs-me vibes: insectman vitality, pro more con. Twitchy near-death? Heart-tugging.
‘No save button tho.’
26 finishes? I'll process the rest. Among 'em, Star Union cyborg—one tentacle-waist job.
“K-Khuk, s-spare... me...”
Cyborg tough: torso-split, still kicking. Desperate mercy beg.
Star Union: cyborg creed—swap frail meat for metal. Polar opposite Mega Corp's gene-tweak humans to superiority.
‘Scum either way.’
They “bless” captives—forced cyborg conversion, consent be damned. Other races too.
This pirate? Modded human, guts glinting with parts.
Stomped the whimpering dome. Synth-brain squished, sparks flew.
‘Machinery edible?’
Play safe: plucked visible bits, flesh-only ingest. Half-machine tang: sparky sour, oily heft.
‘...Quirky bite.’
Looks aside, decent chow. Devoured the husk.
Flicked oily digits; translucent box popped.
‘Oh?’
Didn't see that coming—welcome surprise. Cyborgs count separate race, game-style.
‘Twelve on board, right?’
Munch the research ship's cyborgs, boom—next evolution unlocked.
Subadult highway opening this fast? Unforeseen jackpot.
｢Baby, why so hyped?｣
[Zzuzuzu zuzu (kinda thing)]
Meal done, 26 waddled over. Gave a gentle pat, shouldered her up.
Space Dogs—some dub 'em cosmic calamity.
To me? Santa Claus, sacks bursting with presents.