Beast of the Depths (3)

MegaCorp was known to possess more than a few hundred colony planets.

Under MegaCorp law, a colony planet was classified as a kind of production apparatus for cultivating the resources the corporation required. All rights to every type of resource on a colony planet legally belonged to the Planetary Lord.

A blunter way to put it would be this: a colony planet was a livestock pen. A pigsty on a cosmic scale.

Needless to say, no ordinary human enjoyed being treated as a slave or cattle. Even if the beings ruling over them wielded power on a galactic scale, resistance was bound to spring up.

Which was precisely why MegaCorp's upper Capitals employed every method at their disposal to keep their colony planets docile.

Take, for instance, the redemption program.

A concept first devised by T&C, it dangled the promise that any Employee who completed the tasks assigned to them could escape their status.

And T&C went one step further, granting Capital status to Employees who succeeded in redeeming themselves.

As more and more people finished their redemption and returned home as Capitals, open resistance on the colony planets dwindled dramatically.

Rather than choosing the path of defiance, the masses had come to dream of becoming part of MegaCorp instead.

Brody, dragged to this very place — the T&C Special Trade Hub — was no different.

For a man waiting only for the day he would die in the Entertainment District, an opportunity had arrived.

The head of Human Resources Management was recruiting personnel to explore the sewer system, with completed debt redemption as the reward.

Hearing those words, Brody had thought:

'Rolling around in shitwater for a while beats getting skinned alive.'

And so two hundred and ten volunteers who'd reached the same conclusion were gathered.

Split into three teams of eighty, seventy, and sixty, Brody had still believed his judgment sound when they first entered the sewers. Wallowing in filth for a stretch was nothing compared to what the Entertainment District had in store for him.

That complacency had evaporated the moment he set foot in the tunnel.

"…Hoo."

The sewer was worse than anything he had imagined. The stench worming its way through his mask, the refuse bobbing on the water's surface, the sickening brush of something slipping between his legs — each and every one of them something he never wanted to see again, even in a dream. But there was one thing that grated on his nerves above all the rest.

'That gaze again. I can feel it watching me.'

He'd always been told he had good instincts. Somewhere in that water, dark as the void of space swallowing the city above, something was surely lying in wait.

'They made the terms sound way too good…'

"Hey, hey! Why's everyone gone mute all of a sudden? Don't make this any more miserable than it already is — say something."

"Your mother, you bastard. If you're so desperate for chatter, start talking yourself."

"Why, you little—"

No one knew how much longer they'd have to endure this sewer, where breathing felt like suffocating for real. Maybe that was why everyone's nerves seemed worn down to a razor's edge.

"*Cough!*"

And it wasn't just their nerves fraying. Though Brody stood in ice-cold water, a wave of heat was spreading through his whole body. The hand gripping his flashlight barely hovered above the surface, and his legs dragged as if shackled in iron.

Was the darkness swallowing him whole? Even his vision seemed to spin.

"Hey, I think this one's losing it."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Think, damn it. Maybe you cracking him upside the head did it — what happens if he drops dead on us? Then we're all fucked."

"…Ugh. Fine. Just wait."

The man at the front switched on his communicator.

"H-hello, sir, Knight. There's something I need to report."

"Kzzt — what is it? Did you find something?"

"Heheh, well, you see, sir, one of our teammates took a fall a while back, remember? He's, ah, looking a little worn out, so…"

"If you're about to tell me you want to rest—"

"Oh no! Absolutely not, Knight, sir! Nothing like that! I just thought that if we moved a little slower, we could actually perform the mission for longer — so I was calling to ask whether we might get your permission, sir."

"Hmm. If that's all, there's no great issue. Granted."

"Thank you, sir!"

The man bowed his head over and over until the line went dead. The moment he heard the click of the transmission ending, his face transformed.

"Ha, what a shit-eating bastard. Naggy as hell, just like a motherless son would be."

"Good work."

"Th-thanks…"

"Tch."

"Hey — I'll take the rear. You move up front."

"Y-yes, sir."

The three swapped positions and set off again, moving a little slower than before now that they'd reported to the Knight.

Brody's aching body didn't improve, but he clung to consciousness by his fingernails. Once he got out of this place, he would be a free man.

Thinking of nothing but freedom, he dragged himself forward with all the grit he had left.

Then, before them, a small sewage treatment facility came into view. A dead end. From here, they would have to move to yet another designated point.

The man at the front grumbled wearily.

"Christ, how many more times do we have to do this damn routine?"

"Y-yeah, tell me about it."

"Hey, you in back, keep up, will y… huh?"

"Wh-what is it, sir?"

"Where'd the guy behind you go?"

"…What?"

At the lead man's words, Brody whipped his head around. There was no one behind him.

"H-hey, hey — this is a joke, right? Where'd he go?"

"I-I don't… I don't know either."

The man's face had gone ghost-pale. Whether it was the icy water or the fear creeping over him, there was no way to tell. One thing was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠certain, though: Brody was no better off than the man was.

The fever that had burned through his body only moments ago had gone stone cold, as if the blood had been drained clean out of him.

"F-fuck — you shitheads up top! A man just vanished, you blind?!"

The man fumbled for his communicator. His hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped it two or three times, but he finally managed to activate it.

"Kzzt — what is it now?"

"K-Knight, sir! One of our team members is gone!"

"Gone?"

"Yes, sir! The one following behind us—"

"What nonsense is this? The tracker shows all three of you moving normally."

"…What?"

The man's eyes, still fixed on his communicator, snapped to the space behind Brody.

Brody swallowed hard and turned his head.

The black water churned like a wave. And from the rolling surface, a man's head rose up.

The teammate who'd been following behind hadn't vanished at all. Yet far from calming him, Brody's heart began to pound harder than ever.

The wave hadn't been caused by the man.

What had stirred the water was the thing behind him — something so massive it seemed to fill the entire sewer passage, something black, holding the man in its grip.

"?!"

The man with the communicator froze, his mouth hanging open. Just before the air could escape his throat, a long serpent of flesh shot up from the water and pierced his neck.

The man hardened in place, mid-scream.

The thing glided soundlessly past Brody toward the man, and with claws of chilling length, plucked the communicator from his hand.

"Team 15, report immediately if a problem occurs."

The Knight's voice crackled through the device, but Brody couldn't produce so much as a breath.

The thing before him was looking down at him. A black, matte carapace as dark as the water itself, and against it, teeth that gleamed a sickly white. It seemed certain that at any instant the unidentified monster would tear into his throat.

The thing extended a hand toward him.

"Hk—?!"

Brody screwed his eyes shut, bracing for the agony to come.

Seconds passed, and nothing happened. When he cracked his eyes open, the thing was holding the communicator out to him.

Brody numbly took the device from the monster's hand.

Then the thing raised one long, wicked claw to its own mouth — a maw bristling with grotesque teeth.

"Shh… u… sh…"

There weren't many courses of action available to Brody in this situation.

The man before me reported into the communicator with a trembling voice.

"Th-this is Brody of Team 15. The guy who, who usually handles the communicator — he tripped, so I'm answering for him."

"Tch. What a circus. Once you're back on your feet, start moving."

"Y-yes, sir!"

The man who called himself Brody followed my instructions to the letter.

'Shall we begin, then.'

I activated the Parasitic Colony. A single parasite slipped out from my arm and swam through the foul water.

"S-stop! Don't!"

Brody recoiled in horror, but there was nowhere for him to run — the tip of my tail had already curled around behind him and was jabbing him in the back, driving him toward me.

"Kkgh — khk, khkhk!"

The moment the parasite entered his nostril, he coughed violently, his whole body shuddering. His eyes rolled back, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, beyond all control — the parasite was settling into its place in his brain.

The man at the front could do nothing but watch, paralyzed, as his teammate was taken.

'He seemed rather mouthy, that one.'

Unlike those I'd infected with the parasites, this one had quite the foul tongue. The infected were bound to obey me, but as William's case had shown, overly defiant ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hosts were inconvenient to control — they could act in ways I didn't anticipate.

'I need to check his chip anyway. This works out nicely.'

Gripping the first man I'd paralyzed in one arm, I approached the one at the front. From their perspective it would look like two men supporting each other — and in that state, I picked up the lead man.

I examined his body with my auxiliary organ. There had to be somewhere a signal chip had been implanted.

A faint electrical signal was leaking from his brain, but that one could wait — it was a device for managing Employees, so it had to be harvested intact, not destroyed.

As I searched his body, I sensed a signal near his wrist. I seized his arm with my combat limb and tore it clean off.

"H-hiiik!"

Brody, watching from the side, recoiled in stunned horror.

The man stared blankly down at his own arm, detached from his body. Paralyzed from head to toe, he would feel no pain whatsoever. He was probably convinced he was trapped in some horrid nightmare.

I split the arm open to find a small chip glinting inside. I carefully extracted it with the small arm on my chest.

'There we go.'

The moment the chip left his flesh, the communicator rang out.

"Re… ceived."

"I-it's Brody, sir!"

"What is going on? Why aren't you moving?"

"N-nothing's wrong! We're moving right now!"

"Tch. Must I really bother with all this?"

I'd hoped as much, but even with the chip out of his body, no alarm reached the other side. Which meant—

'This one is of no further use to me.'

As it happened, I was starving from building the nest, so the timing couldn't have been better.

I spread my jaws wide and clamped down on the man's shoulder. Perhaps because my body had grown, half of his upper torso crumpled under the crushing force of my powerful jaws.

"Ughhh…"

"……"

Brody couldn't even manage a scream. He simply stood there, trembling like a leaf.

The paralyzed man in my grip seemed just as shaken by the sight of his teammate being devoured alive — the foul water around me had grown noticeably warmer.

After several more bites, everything but the head had gone into my stomach.

'Let's see here.'

I closed my combat limb around the head and squeezed. The skull shattered like a cracked pumpkin. In the debris that spilled out, I spotted a black mechanical device, and crushed it tightly in the small hand on my chest as well.

Then I dumped what remained into my mouth, licking every last trace off my tongue — down to the tips of the fingernails.

Having consumed the man entirely, I passed two chips to Brody, who was drowning in terror.

"Wai… t…"

"……"

Now that I understood how the chips worked, the man hanging from my arm was no longer of any use either. Paralyzed and pissing himself where he hung, the only worthwhile use left for him was as my nutrition.

"…!"

He must have intuited what I intended to do with him, because his eyes began to tremble violently. It had always been this way — and I had never once shown mercy for it.

With Brody watching, I devoured this man cleanly as well.

Disposing of two grown men took no more than a few minutes.

My energy, drained from building the nest, fully replenished, I handed Brody the newly acquired chips and devices.

"Ta·ke… these… grrr… and like… gkk… be·fore… mo·ve…"

"…Yes, sir."

Having watched both his teammates eaten alive, Brody obeyed me without a whisper of resistance. He wedged the chips and devices from two men into the seams of his mask.

Once I'd sent him on his way, I moved toward the other teams.

There was still so much left to do.

"Y-yes, sir! We'll — we'll move right away!"

Tennessee slammed the communicator down.

"Why do these wretched mongrels stumble so damned often? It's nothing but walking, and still they flounder like this."

That was the fifth transmission already. Those pathetic rabble kept the operation crawling with one excuse after another — they'd fallen, they'd lost their way, and on and on with every sort of nonsense.

"Allowing such lowly creatures to take part in an operation was dishonorable from the very start."

If the men here had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been the comrades who had fought in glorious battle at his side, that unidentified monster would have been slaughtered in the blink of an eye.

'Damn it all!'

None of this — neither this situation nor this operation — was what Tennessee had wanted.

'I begged for vengeance. And yet…'

His lord, to whom he had pledged his loyalty, had refused him.

'"When you find the beast, take it alive." That is what he commanded.'

On paper, the Knights supporting the Defense Force were divided into three teams. In reality, there were four.

Hidden among Team 2 under Jacob's command was Team 4, led by Yanek. Team 4 was to lie in wait covertly on the surface and, once the target was located, either capture the monster or obstruct the Defense Force's advance.

They were fully armed with the weapons shipped in aboard the fleet, so capturing the mystery creature would pose little difficulty.

'Take alive the enemy who butchered my brothers in arms.'

If only he could have joined Team 4, at least he would have gotten to fight. The reality that even that was denied him made Tennessee feel like he was suffocating.

"…Tch. Once this cycle ends, I'm requesting a transfer up."

He shook his head and barely managed to smother his fury.

Strange, though — despite standing in water, he kept burning up. Even a genetically augmented human such as himself was not insensible to heat and cold. The sewer water was, without question, cold as ice even to his senses. Yet his perceptions had slid off their axis. Heat was flaring from his body without warning, and his senses were growing dull.

His brain was broadcasting warning signals. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠But Tennessee dismissed it all as nothing more than his own anger. The genetically flawless, he believed, did not fall ill.

"Hm?"

A sound broke the stillness — water, moving.

Tennessee turned toward it. Nothing there but deep, utter darkness — though darkness meant nothing to him. Against the multi-spectrum vision of high-grade powered armor, concealment was useless.

'Did I imagine it?'

He cycled through his detection systems — thermal vision, vibration sensing, the lot — but nothing registered. Tennessee turned his head back.

In that instant, the thing erupted from behind and fell upon him.

A makeshift camp inside the sewer, built around a manhole. The water ran shallow here, and the Knights of Team 1 had stockpiled mechanical equipment and supplies to support the search and combat operations.

"How are the comm equipment upgrades coming?"

"Reinforced them as much as I could, but being underground, they still barely cooperate."

"Hm. Probably the EMP-shielding systems they've blanketed the entire city with for the Board of Directors meeting."

"Ahem — so that was it after all. Well, we do what we can regardless."

"Understood."

All around, Knights and Defense Force personnel bustled about, checking over the equipment.

In the midst of it, Vickers was monitoring the camera feeds linked to each team's handler.

"What the devil?"

Sensing something wrong with one of the feeds, Vickers picked up his communicator.

"This is Vickers of Team 1. Tennessee, your camera angle's off. Adjust it."

"Un… der… gkk… stood…"

"And while you're at it, tune the communicator as well. There's interference on the line."

"Yes, sir."

A short while passed, and the camera swung back into place. Model discipline, at least — it held its position without moving so much as a millimeter.

At the sight of such rigid military bearing, Vickers allowed himself a private sigh.

'Can't blame him for wanting revenge, I suppose.'

As vice commander, he understood Tennessee's devotion to his fallen comrades well enough. Had the man's temperament been even slightly calmer, Vickers would have entrusted Team 4's command to him instead of Yanek.

He was still lost in the thought when the signal monitor nearby began to shriek.

BEEP

"It's him!"

The device flagged any bait that strayed from its designated route and plotted the movement. If this machine was sounding, the monster had taken the bait.

Vickers snatched up his communicator.

"This is Vickers, Team 1! The beast has taken the bait!"

"This is Jacob, Team 2. Where?"

"Wh…ere… is… it?"

"The location is—"

Vickers was about to relay the coordinates when his eyes fell on the signals crowding the monitor's display — and the words died on his tongue.

The signals abandoning their routes were multiplying — rapidly, endlessly, one after another.