Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: The Persistent Reporter
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Jaesung Samuel, the Armed Police Team Leader of Earth Overall Security's Armed Police Team, had a throbbing headache.
It was because of the young female reporter plopped down across from his desk, nagging away.
Her name was Kevin, a senior reporter from the Daily Mars branch office in the commercial district.
"I'd like to ask the person in charge about the cause of the recent riot in the residential district and what measures are being taken."
"I already told you I can't discuss that. You should ask the residential district or the port district..."
"When I did, they told me the overall operation of the armed police was under Armed Police Team Leader Jaesung Samuel."
"I'm not the one responsible, so I wouldn't..."
"If you're not the team leader, then who is? Oh, maybe it's the secretary out there diligently brewing coffee?"
Jaesung felt irritation surge at her rude tone, but he couldn't snap back.
Daily Mars was run by the Prime Capital's Zhao Family.
With the board meeting less than a week away, he couldn't afford to piss off a media outlet owned by Prime Capital. The fallout would be too much to handle.
As a Third Capital with ties to Mega Corp's upper echelons, Jaesung vaguely knew about the power struggles between the Noble Capital and Prime Capital families. If he mishandled this and it negatively impacted the board meeting, Laila would surely dump him straight into the entertainment district.
'This is just another thing I have to deal with...'
Another hour of pointless conversation dragged on like that.
Jaesung had urgent work piling up, but this crazy woman showed no sign of leaving.
She wouldn't budge for days unless he threw her something, so he finally gave in.
"Let me ask again. About the residential district..."
"Enough! Fine. I'll give you the name of a survivor from the operation. Ask them."
"If you give me some weird name..."
"He's the Port District Detective Team Leader who made the first report on this. He'd know best."
Kevin nodded at Jaesung's pleading eyes that screamed please just go. After grilling him for two hours, she was convinced it wasn't a lie. She stood up.
"If it's a lie, you can look forward to tomorrow's article."
Jaesung ground his teeth silently, cursing her with his eyes at the warning. Kevin flashed a provocative smile and left the office.
"Port District, huh."
Once outside, Kevin pulled out her communicator.
"Hey, it's me. Do you have any detectives from your side who were in that residential district operation last time... What? No, no. Just wanted to ask something. Yeah. Yeah. On vacation today? Okay. Yeah. Administrative District housing area? Thanks."
She pocketed the communicator and headed to the subway station.
Long past rush hour, the station was still bustling.
Being a city built over space, personal vehicles were restricted to public officials. Only hospitals, police, and similar institutions could use special-purpose vehicles.
That's why the stations stayed packed until the subway shut down just before 11 p.m.
Kevin arrived via subway at a station in the Administrative District's housing area.
Her destination from the tip wasn't far from the station.
Clean, bright houses lined marble-paved streets.
Seeing luxury unmatched by other districts, Kevin whistled.
She reached the target house after walking the marble path and scoped it out before ringing the doorbell. Like the others, it was neat.
'All the windows are blocked off?'
The one difference: every window had curtains drawn tight, as if desperate to block any prying eyes.
'Can't miss a scoop.'
Kevin was a typical Mega Corp reporter—meaning she didn't care about her subject's feelings if it meant a big story and promotion.
'If he's mentally wrecked, that's perfect for me.'
He'd spill everything easily.
With a salesman's grin, she mashed the doorbell. No response despite waiting.
"Huh?"
A car in the personal parking spot meant he was home.
She rang again.
No answer, but she didn't care. She'd keep at it until he came.
After ten minutes of nonstop ringing, a noise came from inside. Footsteps approached, and the door opened.
The man who answered looked like a living skeleton.
Kevin casually offered her hand, unfazed by his terminal cancer patient vibe.
"Hello, Team Leader. I'm senior reporter Kevin from Daily Mars. You're Detective Team Leader William, right?"
"......"
William scanned her up and down with hollow eyes. He tried to slam the door, but Kevin had wedged her foot in, anticipating it.
Failing to close it, William spoke.
"...What do you want?"
"I have questions about the disturbance in the residential district, Team Leader."
"Nothing to say."
"There were quite a few deaths in that operation. I'm curious about the cause and who you were chasing. It'd be great if you cooperated for the Mega Corp citizens' right to know."
"I'm not obligated to answer."
"If you don't, I'll have to write the article based on my limited info."
In other words, fill it with nothing but bad press.
William's face twisted at the threat. His wounded wolf expression was menacing, but she wasn't scared.
The standoff ended with William's sigh. In a voice devoid of energy to even get annoyed, he asked,
"What exactly do you want?"
"Not great to talk out here. Mind if I come in?"
Without waiting for an answer, she barged inside.
"The vibe inside's totally different from outside, huh?"
As Kevin said, the interior was a total mess. Unwashed clothes and half-eaten food bowls littered everywhere. It reeked of stale air from poor ventilation.
William sat at the dining table without a word.
"...Ask quick. I'm busy."
Kevin plopped naturally onto a grimy chair like it was her home. She pulled out a small recorder, gestured for permission, and William waved her on dismissively.
"First, an overview of the operation in the residential district."
The interview dragged on for over an hour. Unlike his initial prickliness, William answered most questions.
But despite cooperating, his condition worsened as it went on.
He popped pills several times mid-answer—the strongest over-the-counter painkillers, which Kevin recognized.
'No visible injuries. Not PTSD either, or it'd be antidepressants.'
Even after meds, he crushed his temples with both hands from the headache. So hard it seemed like blood might ooze out.
Her subject was clearly suffering, but she had no intention of stopping. If he dropped dead mid-interview, it'd just be more scoop material.
'Meds aside, why does he keep checking the clock?'
William glanced at his watch unnaturally often. On vacation per her source, no urgent business, yet he was extremely jittery.
'This could be huge.'
Interviews weren't just answers—reactions and behaviors made stories too.
She inwardly cheered at the jackpot feeling.
As it wrapped up, her final question:
"You said Sander's already dead. Do you know anything about the criminal he was dealing with?"
"......"
First non-answer since the interview started. Kevin caught the fleeting reaction.
His eyes twitched—he knew something about the criminal.
"Let me ask again. About the one he was dealing..."
"Hey."
"Yes?"
"I don't know about the rest, but I can't answer this. Not for my sake—for yours."
'For my sake? What does that mean?'
It didn't make sense, but he seemed sincere.
"If you're threatening me, Daily Mars—no, the Prime Capital Zhao Family—won't stand..."
"Ha. Prime Capital? You think those useless bastards can protect you? Be careful. Though now that you're in this house, my warning might be pointless."
With that, William stood and headed to the door, opening it silently.
A wordless get out. Kevin reviewed the interview mentally.
She had plenty already. No need to stay in this filth.
"Thanks for cooperating with the interview, Detective Team Leader William."
"......"
William's eyes urged her to leave without chit-chat. As she exited, before closing the door, he gave one last piece of advice.
"Kevin, right? Better not wander alone at night."
"What?"
He shut the door without waiting.
'What bullshit?'
Thinking his night warning was a threat, Kevin got annoyed. About to ring the bell to confront him, her communicator buzzed.
"Branch chief."
Probably calling to report on the interview.
"Yes, Branch Chief. Just finished the interview. What? Come on, who do you think I am? Of course it was a success. Yes. Yes. Heading over now."
Abandoning the protest, she answered while running to the station.
Someone watched her retreating figure.
William, still inside the house.
He watched until she vanished, then picked up his communicator.
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'Looks like it's about time.'
I'd spent the day curled up, but now I stretched out. Dried slime on my exoskeleton flaked off like powder.
I extended all six arms in a big stretch.
'Wider range took longer than expected.'
Where I stood— the city's secret passage— now housed my completed nest.
Once just abandoned workers' trash, it now resembled living guts.
Dark brown slime oozed endlessly from walls, ceiling, floor like unfailing glands. Spores embedded everywhere spat out more slime nonstop.
Without ventilation, any normal creature entering would succumb quickly to the toxic air.
'Big nests really are reassuring.'
The finished nest spanned 500 meters in diameter.
Tiny compared to the 60km city, but with links, it could cover a quarter.
'Full coverage of residential district, about a third of commercial and entertainment districts. That much detection range.'
Unlike the research ship, the city's bustle made tracking every human or machine movement tough. But focusing let me spot enemies targeting me.
Standing and stretching spiked my hunger.
'Used up most reserve energy building the nest.'
Since the armed police fight, new slaves ensured steady food.
Port District Detective Team Leader William.
I hadn't killed him, captured via Armed Police 103.
'Smart guy—too valuable to eat.'
William was the only one to find me independently and pushed me into a tough fight. Long-term, he'd be useful.
Much more than half-mad 103.
That day, I spared William and ate 103 instead.
Paralyzed, he watched me devour a living person up close and lost all will to fight. Even before the parasite, he submitted fully.
His submission and the parasite were separate, so I implanted it anyway. Like most, he thrashed but didn't resist much.
As my slave, I took all his broker-related data.
Now I knew exactly which containers held smuggled creatures.
No need to enslave logistics or smuggling inspection teams—I could raid them myself.
'Though I need William to get there.'
Cameras were beyond me, so he helped.
Under pretext of focusing port security on hotspots, he rearranged camera positions and android patrol routes. Well-respected in security, no one questioned him.
He reported lax spots whenever changes happened. Let me roam the port easily.
Of course, not too often like with Sander, or it'd raise flags. Every three days for smuggled animals.
'Today's the day for smuggled food.'
As I pondered waking the sleeping young ones, the communicator on the floor buzzed.
'William?'
Not time for parasite swap, so an odd call.
'Come to think of it, signals kept coming earlier.'
While building the nest, psychic waves from the parasite arrived several times. Reports of host in trouble, inflicting pain as warning.
Not betrayal. His parasite was stage 5—instant death on disloyal thoughts.
More like a minor alert.
'Something happened. Let's hear it.'
I answered in 103's voice.
"What's up?"
｢A hunter of the master exists.｣
"Hunter?"
｢Yes. A reporter from Daily Mars, run by Prime Capital.｣
Prime Capital running media?
'Media handlers—Zhao Family, right?'
Zhao Family dominated media, entertainment in settings. Info dealers, annoying in game without direct combat.
'They even set up branches on planets with under 100 residents.'
If no landing, they'd satellite-broadcast. Insane.
Mega Corp-hostile players always overwhelmed by their intel net.
'That's why I sought signal-blocking traits first.'
Reality differed from game growth, but it came anyway.
'A reporter.'
If reporter, elimination was set. Ignore, and endless hassle.
｢Camera in the house captured her. Sending photo via email.｣
Mail alert popped on screen.
'Gotta handle her today.'
Brown-haired woman at the table.
Smiling, oblivious to her fate.