Chapter 301
Chapter 301
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 301
Chapter Title: Infiltration (4)
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After MPS-05 was activated, we ran into an unexpected obstacle.
For it to safely attempt a hack, it needed to physically connect to a high-authority computer. The main body could hack from anywhere with just a terminal, but that was impossible for the degraded mini screamer—a pale shadow of the original.
The real problem cropped up elsewhere.
This battleship's corridors were crawling with way too many surveillance cameras. I knew security would be tight, but I'd never seen them installed every few meters like this.
Because of that, we tweaked the plan a bit.
Mother of the Sky would stand by in the gun turret room where Gunner No. 15 had been stationed, while MPS-05 moved with me.
No matter the species, the highest-authority computer inside any ship was always in the situation room. This battleship was no different, but getting there without running into anyone was impossible.
The Clever Weakling's "Unknown Creature's Fur Pelt" effect evaded standard detection gear, traits, and skills. But facing a Cult head-on? I'd be made in a heartbeat.
Thanks to the Mimicry Organ, I looked like Gunner No. 15 to anyone else, so I wouldn't get busted outright. Still, it'd raise eyebrows. A lowly gunner popping in and out of the situation room? Yeah, that'd look suspicious as hell.
Targeting the situation room was too risky, so we went with Plan B: the Shield Control Room, which handled the hull plating and shields. To scrub the shield damage logs from our break-in—and the protective barrier breach around Gunner No. 15's turret—we had to hit it at least once.
We waited until the crew turned in for the night, then MPS-05 and I got moving. Dodging the warrior squad patrols ate up a good chunk of time, but we made it to the target without a hitch.
Right in the middle of it working away in the empty Shield Control Room, an uninvited guest barged in.
One of our two prime targets on this ship: the Knowledge Manager.
"Ke... kek... Sa... save... me..."
The female Cult writhed in the grip of my combat arm. No trace of the haughty vibe she'd had when she mistook me for Gunner No. 15.
'Didn't expect her to walk right into it.'
I'd figured snagging the Knowledge Manager would take days at minimum. Guess I was wrong again.
The Knowledge Manager doubled as the ship's top engineer. Troubleshooting defense system glitches was part of her gig—including the protective barrier hiccup from my infiltration.
"Ship. Re... cords. Copy."
"Don't get spotted."
"Worry. Null."
The little guy, who'd been hiding in the tool closet, popped back out and picked up where it left off.
'Alright, my turn.'
I peered down at the shivering Knowledge Manager.
My parasite was riding high on dual buffs right now: the unique trait "Great Infectant" and the strong foe marker "Form Dominator". It had ballooned way bigger than in the game, with abilities jacked up across the board.
Before, it just latched onto the host's brain for control. Not anymore. Now it could devour the brain outright, letting the parasite take over its functions—or...
'You know the drill, right?'
I blasted a surge of will at the parasite wriggling out from my palm. The eel-like thing bobbed what might've been its head—or torso—and slithered over to my other hand.
"?!"
She recoiled in horror as it crawled up my arm toward her. The Cult's pretty face twisted into something grotesque.
She clamped her mouth shut, desperate to dodge the oncoming black eel, but it was no use. Wormlets sprouted from the parasite's body—amped up by the Great Infectant effect—and pried her jaws apart by force.
"Eup! Ueup!"
The parasite plunged into the Cult woman's mouth and got right to work.
It gnawed a chunk out of her brain in seconds, while its body infested her spinal cord. She convulsed wildly from head to toe, then went limp like a corpse a few heartbeats later.
"Get up."
My voice snapped her into motion. I eased my grip, and she stood on her own two feet.
"You can talk now."
"Wha... what is this...?"
Confusion swirled in the Cult's eyes. Her body suddenly ignoring her? No wonder.
"Name and position."
"My name is Charaas. Knowledge Manager. Wha... what did you do to me?"
"Shh."
"...!"
Back before Space Fortress Kessha Arma—back when we raided that pirate slave market.
I'd picked Parasite Swarm as the Great Infectant's enhancement target. The parasites got a major overhaul after that.
It wasn't just growing from tiny thread-snakes to eel-sized, or the boosted control. Nope.
A whole new domination style. One of the fresh powers the Parasite Swarm unlocked.
Normally, the parasites seize the brain to puppet the body. Post-upgrade, the basics held—but with options.
Full takeover was great for total control, but in a spot like this? Backfire city.
The Knowledge Manager stored and wielded vast data and intel—her brain was key. If I wanted to use her, I had to handle the gray matter with care.
That's why I went with the new trick this time.
Right now, parasites clung to part of her brain and her entire spinal cord. Only a sliver of direct brain control—the rest came via spinal fusion. She couldn't so much as twitch a finger on her own, as you can see.
Two catches, though.
Weaker grip than full brain replacement. And no swapping it out.
Fused to the host's spinal cord, no way to pry it loose. Parasite dies? Host drops dead too.
'Surgery might change that...'
Pointless what-if for now. Knowledge Manager Charaas was mine until her last breath.
I spoke to her in Gunner No. 15's voice.
"Let's start with the ships cleared for Berzan 02 access."
Her body. Her knowledge. All mine now.
Two days had passed since the anomaly hit the Aur Star System.
The mystery magnetic field was gone—no more readings.
One Knowledge Manager had flagged a link to the "Three-Headed Devil," but nothing solid came of it. Thin evidence, and she retracted it with a follow-up report anyway.
In the end, Surveillance Agency command ordered the ships loitering at the anomaly site to RTB. The vessels drifting in deep space punched into FTL and zipped back to base in no time.
"Kinda anticlimactic this time."
"Tell me about it."
"At least no battle casualties to mourn. If not for th—Huh? Where's the Knowledge Manager?"
"She put in for leave this morning."
"Oh, right. Heading planetside to Berzan 02, yeah?"
The captain felt a pang of regret at his subordinate's reminder. Charaas was a stunner, position aside. He'd hoped to spark something there, but never even got a word in.
"Should've chatted her up sooner."
"In the middle of an op? Come on."
"Vanished the second we docked at Agency HQ. Bet she's got someone special."
"...You fishing for a demotion?"
Bantering with the situation room crew, the captain mused to himself.
'Damn. I'll shoot my shot after we settle in.'
Maybe kick it off with Berzan 02 talk. He stepped off the ship with his team, mulling it over.
"Heard a bunch of gunners requested leave too."
"Nice. Might hit Berzan 02 myself."
As the crew shot the breeze, a personal shuttle arrowed in near the battleship. Sleek triangle shape, hugging the hull tight.
It lingered about a minute, then peeled off. Personal craft rarely got that cozy with a capital ship, but it was so quick, hardly anyone clocked it.
And nobody spotted the pitch-black thing clambering aboard.
Oblivious or not, the shuttle slotted into the swarm of hundreds of vessels buzzing the Surveillance Agency's colossal space structure.
Ships crisscrossed the vast interior. Midway through, the triangle broke formation.
A few others peeled off too—not many. They weren't zone-hopping; they wanted out.
At the massive gate on one outer wall, personal craft lined up for scans and shot the void one by one. Finally, the triangle's turn.
｢Knowledge Manager Charaas?｣
"That's me."
｢Destination logged as Berzan 02. Reason?｣
"Vacation."
｢Traveling companions?｣
"Just this Cult."
｢Berzan 02 visit requires internal scan per protocol. Your cooperation, please.｣
"Hold on. I filed with my ship and Agency this morning—got clearance. Check it."
Silence over the comm. Then:
｢Verified. Appreciate the cooperation.｣
"Thanks for the leeway."
Charaas cleared the gate and slipped out of the Agency. A pale red planet bloomed into view.
Berzan 02. Her destination.
The shuttle, throttling up nonstop since departure, closed in. Her eyes couldn't see them, but groundside batteries galore had her locked.
Agency greenlight meant no fireworks, though. Atmosphere breached, the vista beyond the reinforced canopy: crimson badlands and an endless jungle of skyscrapers.
A jaw-dropper, but her face stayed blank. Had been since liftoff.
Dead-eyed poker face aside, her hands flew through landing prep. The shuttle touched down at a modest airstrip, well clear of the towers.
"We're here."
No other Cults aboard. Non-Cults aside.
Behind her stare at the forward glass, it's massive maw reared up.
"So this is Berzan 02."
It spoke in a plain human voice.
Charaas could guess easy what it—the Three-Headed Devil she'd ferried—would unleash on Berzan 02.
Ruin. Just like the holy site before.
｢Been a while.｣
"High temperature. Detected."
Devil's voice and another from astern. The devil's tagalongs closed on her pilot's seat.
A female wolf sporting a raptor head. A nightmare with a human noggin festooned in metal bits and extra legs.
Her dread aside, the Three-Headed Devil and its crew touched down on Berzan 02 without a hitch.
"Now we just wait for the kids."
The devil flicked its long tongue and chuckled.