Monster (2)
The Administrative District of the T&C Special Trade Hub.
It was an image completely unlike the other districts, which drowned in the artificial glow of endless advertising boards.
Life in harmony with nature.
True to the slogan that symbolized the district, meticulously tended trees and shrubs lined both sides of the marble sidewalks, and small birds flitted between the branches, chirping.
Beyond the verdant groves, white rectangular high-rises loomed against the sky — government offices and branch headquarters of prominent corporations operating under MegaCorp.
Past those beautiful but sterile buildings, at the very heart of the district, stood a structure taller and stranger than anything around it.
With a spiraling exterior reminiscent of a twisted bread roll, its crown splayed open like a pair of outstretched hands, the building lorded over the cityscape.
The name of this towering edifice was the Monument.
True to the T&C family's obsession with efficiency, even the building symbolizing humanity's first space city had been given the plain, simple name of 'monument.'
At the very top of the Monument resided Saddam Chamberlain's youngest daughter, Lyla Chamberlain, General Manager of the Special Trade Hub.
At this moment, she was in the middle of a meeting with the city's executives.
Seated around a mahogany table were Lyla, the heads of each district, and the departmental team leaders of the government offices — all except one. The Deputy Team Leader of Human Resources Management stood alone, tense as a bowstring.
Lyla, a beautiful woman with long golden hair, looked up from her report and spoke.
"Human Resources Management Team."
"Y-yes, ma'am!"
"Our deliveries were down three percent this time. Can you tell me why?"
At her question, the Deputy Team Leader hiccuped.
"Hick! Th-that is, this year production fell on Z-101 Ranch Planet and P-82 Livestock Planet, so…"
"Our Special Trade Hub can replace up to twenty percent of the 'employees' bound for the Entertainment District through alternate channels. But a three percent drop in supply is by no means a negligible figure. You cannot rest easy calling it within acceptable bounds."
"Th-that may be so, but…"
"Everyone here knows that forty percent of the Hub's revenue comes from the Entertainment District. If your team lets supply slip by three percent, that burden lands squarely on their shoulders."
Lyla's tone was perfectly calm, but everyone understood exactly what she was saying. It was a warning: why didn't you open a new channel to fill your quota?
"Deputy Team Leader — or rather, Mr. Pizarro."
"Y-yes, ma'am!"
"Do you know what matters most to a merchant?"
"C-credits, I would…"
"Credits are important, of course. But the most important thing is trust. You could make excuses this time — 'circumstances arose, supply was difficult.' But if that shatters your trust? These are customers who came to us through great effort. Once disappointed, they never come back."
"I-I'll bear it in mind!"
"Under ordinary circumstances I would let it pass, but this is a critical period. Everyone here knows how little time remains before the Board of Directors meeting."
At the word 'Board,' every face in the room stiffened as heads nodded in grim agreement.
No one working under the T&C family could fail to know it — just how desperately the T&C patriarch craved the Megacorp CEO's seat.
"The first session of the Board will be held here, at the T&C Special Trade Hub. An enormous wave of visitors is coming to this city. There must not be a single mistake."
"Understood!"
"Contact the governments of both planets and have them do whatever it takes — spray the whole surface with aphrodisiacs if you have to — to meet the quota. Am I clear?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Now, next up. The Entertainment District, is it? I always look forward to your reports. Go ahead."
"Yes, ma'am."
While the Deputy Team Leader sank into his seat wiping cold sweat, the presenter from another team began their report.
Three hours later, the meeting finally ended.
After every team leader had filed out, Lyla sat alone in the conference room and let out a long breath.
"Hoo."
One month remained until the first Board session that would elect the next Megacorp CEO. There was still time, but as General Manager, she felt she could use ten bodies and still fall short.
'Still, if this goes well, the succession isn't just a dream.'
The T&C family possessed a unique trait that set it apart from the other Noble Capital houses.
T&C's proper name was Thompson & Chamberlain — abbreviated to T&C after the first letters of each surname.
And just as the name suggested, two bloodlines coexisted within a single house. The clan bearing the Thompson name and the clan bearing the Chamberlain name competed with one another, and the victor became the head of T&C.
At present, the Chamberlains held the patriarch's seat, but no one could say who would win the next generation.
'The Thompsons are lying in wait.'
Whoever became the head would claim every right of the house and devour all of T&C's interests within Megacorp.
The Chamberlains had held the patriarch's seat for generation after generation, and the Thompsons' resentment had long since passed the boiling point. If the next succession slipped from their grasp, a river of blood was all but guaranteed.
Just then, the conference room door opened and her secretary entered.
"Miss. This is the list of notables who have requested visits during the Board of Directors session, as you asked."
Lyla took the tablet the secretary offered and scanned it.
She worked her way down the names, checking each one — until the final entry made her flinch in surprise.
"…Is this list accurate?"
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
"Akira Yujin is attending?"
"Yes. The Yujin family contacted us an hour ago. He will not attend the Board itself — he says he wishes only to sightsee in the city."
"Ha."
Lyla let out an empty laugh at the absurd remark.
A decrepit monster several hundred years old, taking a leisurely stroll through her city? What a joke.
'Akira Yujin, the current Megacorp CEO, is coming here.'
His achievements — and his infamy — as the ancient king of Earth were well known to her.
"The Usurper."
The nickname slipped from Lyla's lips before she realized it.
The Usurper — the word Akira Yujin despised above all others, and the epithet the other Noble Capital houses used to mock him.
Just as the name implied, Akira Yujin was never meant to be the head of his house. As his very name revealed, he lacked the qualification to inherit the family in the first place.
'The Yujin family prizes bloodline above all.'
Each of the five great Noble Capital houses held one principle sacred. For T&C, it was competition; for the Yujin family, bloodline; for Carmelda, famed for its powered armor, technology — each house took a concept befitting its dominion as its family creed.
True to their reverence for blood, the Yujin family had traditionally elevated only those carrying the blood of the people from whom the family had first sprung.
'An age of constant terraforming, and they still care about ethnicity.'
She couldn't understand it, but the fact remained: Akira's blood was far removed from the Yujin family's roots, and so he was never a legitimate heir.
The reason he became the patriarch was simple. He was the only figure in the entire history of the Yujin family — no, of the entire Noble Capital — to seize the patriarch's seat through a coup.
'Jungwoo Yujin, was it?'
He had been fated to steer the family smoothly through the years — a tragic patriarch cut down by Akira. After his death, every last one of his kin met a miserable end.
'And that madman even turned Jungwoo Yujin's own daughter into one of his Shadows.'
The reason Akira Yujin bore a reputation for cruelty wasn't that he killed indiscriminately.
It was that he killed and tortured without hesitation — even his own people of the Noble Capital, even members of his own house.
Lyla herself visited the ranch planets every year to enjoy human hunts, but she never harmed her own household without cause. In that sense, Akira was an anomaly even among the Noble Capital.
The reason such a misfit had managed to keep the patriarch's seat for so long was simple: he was competent.
However tragic a loss for Jungwoo Yujin, under Akira the Yujin family had flourished to a degree unprecedented in its history.
Lyla commanded people herself, and so she knew full well that ruling through fear was never easy.
A short while might be manageable — but this was a monster who had governed the Yujin family for nearly a century. For a greenhorn like her to go up against him was tantamount to impossibility.
'A formidable enemy.'
This was a man who made even her father flounder. If she faced him directly, she would likely be crushed without a trace.
'…No. Failure is the foundation of growth. Even if I lose to him, I can turn it into experience.'
True to her T&C upbringing, she feared neither competition nor challenge. Even if she lost, she still had a long life ahead of her — she could always recover, she told herself.
Did she truly know, though?
Did she know that a terrible menace had already taken root in her domain?
[Zzzzzz (Tasty?)]
｢Yeah.｣
Compared to the cyborg's place, the neighboring apartment at least felt like a home someone had actually lived in.
The furniture was tidy, and whoever lived here cleaned often — the whole place was spotless. The fridge was well stocked with food too: sandwiches made of synthetic meat, dried vegetables, and the like.
I watched No. 26 busily emptying the fridge with fond eyes.
'I'm hungry too, honestly.'
One glance at the neighbor — bisected at the waist by her tail — was enough to make me want to tear into that fresh meat right now. But there was still work to be done.
I polished off one of the sandwiches No. 26 had laid out and rose from my seat.
[Zzz zzzzz zzzzz (I'm going next door for a bit)]
｢Okay. Be careful.｣
Back inside the cyborg's apartment, the first thing I looked for was his communicator. I picked it up off the floor beside the bed, powered it on, and entered the passcode.
'Let's see. His work number…'
As I scrolled through the saved contacts, one name caught my eye.
'Crazy Dog. This has to be it.'
Every wage slave on the planet resents their boss. I pressed down firmly on the name 'Crazy Dog.'
The call connected almost before the signal went out.
"You goddamn lunatic Lars! Why the hell haven't you shown up, you're just sleeping on the job while I'm buried in work!"
"I quit."
"What? Are you insane?"
"Have a good one."
"You son of a— !"
Phone call finished, courtesy of the Morphing Organ's Voice Mimicry, I hit end call.
Countless alien workers streamed into this city every day, every hour. If one of them quit without explanation, there would be plenty of bodies to replace him.
It might be a different story if he'd forged deep bonds with his coworkers, but my voice's original owner, Lars, didn't seem to be that type. Judging by his boss's reaction, his contacts, and his call history, the man had been a near-total loner.
'He'll probably be forgotten by tomorrow.'
Like the dock worker I'd eaten before, Lars too would fade from memory.
'Still, better to wrap up his affairs properly.'
I opened the laptop sitting in the living room. It was his work machine — if I emailed in his resignation as well, there shouldn't be any real trouble.
'A phone call would probably do, but better safe than sorry.'
It might not matter once I'd eaten enough people, but for now, caution was the order of the day.
This was a prosperous space city — androids were numerous, and though their numbers were small, a defense fleet was even stationed here.
Compared to that research vessel, the place was far vaster, offering plenty of places to hide — but the surveillance net was also incomparably finer than anything before.
'I need to watch myself for now.'
It was best that the fact I'd devoured someone never come to light. I couldn't hide it forever, but until I grew strong enough, I had to stall it as long as possible.
'Now then, let's see what kind of man he was.'
If I was going to send the email, I needed at least a rough idea of who he was, so I went through the laptop's files one by one.
Its owner, Lars, apparently had not lived a very diligent life. For a work laptop, it was overflowing with things that had nothing to do with work.
'A pet-simulator junkie in the space age.'
I had no interest in the cyborg's sexual proclivities, so I deleted the file and kept opening and closing folders — until one with a curious title jumped out at me.
'Smuggled Animal Monitoring Team — Confiscation List?'
I clicked the file, and a wall of dense text filled the small screen. Just as the title said, it was a catalog of confiscated creatures brought in for smuggling.
'Smuggled animals, huh.'
Even a cursory look showed a staggering variety of species. Most had already been processed and shipped off to other planets, but a fair number of living creatures still remained here in the Port District.
'Eating those would net me quite a lot of essence.'
This apartment building was a decent enough buffet, but nothing compared to the Port District's smuggled stock. Devouring even half of those creatures would do wonders for my growth.
'The only problem is the monitoring.'
If an animal under their care vanished, anyone short of an idiot would notice immediately. And if they reported it to the police and an investigation started, things would get very messy indeed.
That left two options.
'Bribe an employee — or find the smuggling broker.'
Bribing an employee wouldn't be hard. I could still mimic Lars with the Morphing Organ, so I'd simply call in another staff member.
Eat that employee, fill out the transfer paperwork in his place, and I could walk off with a creature or two, no trouble at all.
'But if I want to eat more than that, I'll need the broker.'
Scattered through the list were ambiguous entries — destinations left blank, records left vague. No doubt those were the portions the broker had intercepted midway through.
My best move would be to meet the broker directly and siphon off creatures — or eat the broker and pose as him to seize the shipment myself.
'I'll have to make good use of Lars's identity.'
What a friend — dying and leaving so much behind. If only he'd tasted better, I'd have appreciated him far more. A shame.
After sending the email, I gathered up the laptop and returned next door.
｢Baby, you're back!｣
[Zzz zzzz zzz (I'm not eating that one)]
｢You shouldn't be picky.｣
[Z zzz zzzzz (I'm eating something else)]
｢Something else?｣
[Z zzzzzz (Yeah. You eat it)]
No. 26 flickered her lights as though she couldn't understand what I meant. When I nodded to signal that I was fine, she cautiously began to eat the man from next door.
Watching the man's face melt away beneath her, I thought of one thing only.
Something far more delicious was waiting for me.
I licked my lips, savoring the imagined joy of consuming fresh Genetic Essence.