Chapter 249
Chapter 249
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 249
Chapter Title: Type Penalties
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Aimorphs incurred a penalty every time they acquired a new type.
The number of traits required for each subsequent type doubled.
Once a penalty took hold, there was no way to remove it, so Aimorphs found it increasingly difficult to gain new types over the long term.
That meant they had to choose their types carefully from the start, and sometimes they even picked up unnecessary traits just to meet the quotas.
That was problematic enough, but the real issue was something else entirely.
It was the deadly synergy between the inherent drawbacks of unique traits and these type penalties.
Unique-grade skills or traits vanished if the host died. And if the trait count was barely enough to avoid a type penalty, only for death to strike? Both the unique trait and the type went poof.
I'd lost types that way multiple times after dying and having a unique trait slip away.
'But now it mitigates that penalty.'
Thanks to it, I could freely fuse traits from types I'd already acquired. Acquiring new types in the future would be easier, too.
The 'Enhanced Special Defense Type' and 'Internal Organ Enhancement Type'—both already unlocked—each required 16 traits. Since they'd been opened, the counts hadn't changed.
'Still, from now on, I don't have to obsess over the numbers. What a relief.'
I could use my traits freely as fusion fodder or for strengthening. Unique traits could be fused as soon as I gathered the materials.
'This'll let me fill evolution conditions faster.'
Just five more unique traits and two types, and I'd reach Adult stage.
Thanks to the Cosmic Monster stage-1 reward, penalties on future types would reset from the start. Gaining new ones shouldn't be too tough. With luck, I might even snag a new type before bolstering my existing Special Defense or Internal Organ ones.
'To make that happen, I need to get out of here.'
In a game, I'd have headed to tougher hunting grounds for unique traits. But not now. Fusion was easier. Better to go somewhere teeming with diverse creatures for their genetic essences.
After checking the type rewards, I dismissed the text box. PS-111's refit should be done by now. Time to discuss departure.
I slithered out of the cargo hold using my spider-like combat arms and wing-arms. On the way, I peeked into the storage where the others were.
Specimen 26, Sky Mother, and Adhai were curled up together, asleep as usual. Looked like they'd waited for me and dozed off from exhaustion.
'Fighting must've worn them out... Huh?'
I was about to leave after a quick glance, but I spotted red marks on Adhai's body. At first, I thought it was a pattern from mixing in Red Galleron traits, but it was different. Shed scales suggested it was from a hit.
'From the fight with Pira Eleven?'
They'd seemed fine when the ship landed, but the wound wasn't deep. I'd missed it. Without a nest, it'd heal in a day.
'Tch. Gotta be more careful next time.'
I quietly stepped out of the storage area.
After gaining the 'Great Infectoid' trait, my body felt much lighter. Combined with 'Stealth Maneuver', the synergy was impressive. Even with my 25-meter bulk on alloy plating, I made almost no sound.
I slipped silently into the situation room.
There was PS-111, cables plugged into its spine, just like before.
So focused on ship data, it didn't notice me approach.
"PS-111?"
"You've arrived."
Only then did it open its eyes—or rather, its red camera lenses blinked as they fixed on me.
"Your form has changed significantly from the previously recorded 'Aimorph' data."
"I've grown a bit more."
"I see."
"What had you so absorbed you didn't hear me coming?"
It fell silent at my question. The red lenses, meeting my gaze, trembled slightly.
'Huh?'
I knew it was a machine-bio hybrid, but this was clear agitation.
Averting its gaze, it hesitated before speaking.
"Please take a look at this."
A massive hologram sprang up in the room's center at its words. It showed detailed schematics of precision machinery and a limbless creature in 3D.
"Mutant Screamer?"
"Correct. It's the production blueprint for the Mutant Screamers left by Pira Eleven."
The machinery was the life-support unit, and the limbless thing was Hulk Mutant material.
Beside it, tiny text listed genetic info on creatures used for the Hulk Mutants.
'The text is too garbled to read easily.'
Only a few words were legible; the rest looked corrupted, like error code.
"What's with the garble?"
"That's a defense system laid by an entity superior to Pira Eleven. I can't breach it."
Pira Eleven's superior? Had to be the Grand Commander. He'd locked it down.
As I pondered the garbled text, the hologram switched. Now two videos played.
"I investigated who might be the bioform or sapient handling my memories. This is what I found."
The first video started.
It showed reptile-humans with insect traits in multiple tubes.
'Coldbloods?'
All identical—clones. A name starting with P flashed briefly under a tube before passing.
The second video followed.
Dozens of cloned Coldblood corpses lay on cold metal. Machines extracted brains, transplanting them into Screamer units.
Only one twitched to life amid the dozens. That brain got cybernetic chips. The rest were scrapped.
A metal skull stamped with a number covered the half-machine brain.
Number 111.
"That's you."
"Yes. I was an experiment. The sole success among countless clones."
Now I understood its daze.
Seeing its own creation process had shocked it.
'...Can't blame it.'
This machine-bio fusion was developing a new self. Declaring itself special to Pira Eleven was part of that. Learning it was just like the ship shook that foundation.
'Hmm.'
SF stories overflowed with AIs awakening egos, wrestling if they were mere programs or autonomous beings.
Slightly different, but PS-111's crisis mirrored that: Who am I? A question of essence.
'Not something I can answer...'
After a moment's thought, I told it:
"That Coldblood—any clue whose clone it was?"
"The defenses prevent full confirmation."
"Then start there."
"Pardon?"
"Find out who that Coldblood brain came from. I'll help."
Loving monsters and creatures meant devouring SF media. My suggestion drew from that.
'Subconsciously, it sees that brain as its core.'
It had plenty of C-Demon genes from 26's psy injection, plus others.
Yet it fixated on the Coldblood clone brain. Unconsciously deeming it key to its thoughts.
Tracing that clone's origins could help. Knowing a major piece of its self might let it reflect.
'...No guarantees.'
I'm no biologist or neuroscientist. I had no idea how its consciousness formed. Just basing it on media I'd consumed.
Luckily, it piqued its interest. Its lenses zoomed on me.
Then it nodded faintly.
"Aimorph's proposal is intriguing. I'll give it serious consideration."
"Good."
Stoic as ever, but our talk seemed satisfying.
It signaled the spine cables to dismiss the hologram, then added casually:
"Is there anything you need? I'll provide whatever you ask."
That jogged my memory for coming here.
"Check when Pira Eleven sent the support request and what replies came."
"The support request?"
"If a support fleet's coming, I need to know when."
"Please wait a moment."
It closed its eyes, diving into the ship computer.
Its protruding spine quivered. Lights flashed along the cables with electric signals.
"The request was sent five weeks ago. Stated Pira Eleven took heavy damage, hindering mission ops and comms."
"Five weeks? No damage details?"
"Oddly, none recorded. Likely concealed by Pira Eleven."
Mech Council's androids were smart enough to deceive easily.
But deceiving fellow High Councilors—even requesting aid? Bizarre.
"No further contact until repairs, then another request 32 hours ago."
"During the Galleron nest fight."
"Yes. Attached all data up to Screamer comms cutoff."
I hadn't used uniques then, so they didn't know my full power. But my allies—Galleron ties—were exposed. They'd come prepared next time.
"Any incoming messages?"
"One moment."
Checking received logs took longer—defenses harder to bypass.
About 30 minutes later, its eyes snapped open.
"Trouble, Aimorph. Three weeks ago, Europa Two led a support fleet here."
"What?"
"Nemea Five, Redtail Eight, Arrow Nine elite fleets included."
My heart sank.
Three weeks out meant days away—maybe tomorrow.
'Scout fleets could hit tomorrow!'
I pressed urgently:
"How long?"
"Assuming equivalent engines, vanguard arrives in 18 hours."
"Prep the ship for launch."
"Understood."
No Nightmare Horizon this time. Ship too big—assimilation takes time. Early foes? No countermeasures.
Delegate piloting; I'd prep for contingencies.
I rushed to storage, rousing the others.
[Zuzu zzuz zuzu zuzu zuzu zzuzu (That's not important right now)]
26 asked if growth was done; Adhai and Sky Mother blinked sleepily. Sky Mother flinched at my new look.
I quickly briefed them.
[Zzuzu zuzu zzuzu zuzu zzuz (Grand Commander might tag along)]
Sky Mother got it instantly, eyes widening.
[Zuzuzu zzuzu zuzu (No fighting this time)]
Two High Councilors? Manageable. Four? No. Players? Instant loss.
'Even if I survive...'
Everyone here—the new Gallerons—gone. Lost enough already.
I turned to Adhai.
[Zuzu zuzu zzuzu zuzu zzuzu zzuzu (To the nest—bring all Gallerons)]
[Zu zzuzu zzuzu (Yeah. Time to move.)]
Finally, time to leave this iceball planet.