Chapter 77
Chapter 77
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Morning of the Board Meeting
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The morning of the board meeting.
At the Monument owned by the T&C family, preparations for a massive event were in full swing.
Amid the clamor of footsteps from family members rushing about the entire building, one spot alone remained shrouded in silence.
A conference room in the Monument.
There, the ruler of this city, Laila Chemberlin, had gathered with her secretary and close aides.
"What's the Ezerton side's response?"
"They plan to announce that the entire incident was the independent action of Vice-Captain Vickers."
"...Independent action?"
Laila couldn't even muster a hollow laugh at her secretary's words.
Thanks to the camera footage from the surviving defense force soldiers deployed on the evil spirit hunt and the Crisis Management Team Leader's report, she had pieced together the full story.
Who had unleashed the unidentified biological weapon.
What the Silver Lion Knight Order had done to silence them.
She knew it all.
'To dare pull this in my city!'
Laila gritted her teeth.
She had long known Denver was a sly fox beneath his outwardly boisterous image.
But she never imagined he'd be scheming in her city well ahead of the board meeting.
'All just a misunderstanding? Shameless bastard!'
Denver had been right there during the Crisis Management Team Leader's report.
He denied any knowledge, but Laila, seasoned in reading people, spotted the lie instantly.
Denver claimed all blame lay with the vice-captain.
He insisted he knew nothing, that the vice-captain wielded real power in the knight order while he was merely a figurehead captain for public optics.
Such excuses wouldn't wash with the daughter of the T&C family, long entangled with Ezerton.
"Who was the sole survivor besides the vice-captain?"
"Lady Catherine of the Silver Lion Knight Order."
"What happened to her?"
The only survivor aside from the vice-captain had been found in the ruins, a battered wreck.
She should have been arrested on the spot, but her injuries were too grave; she'd been rushed to the central hospital in the administrative district.
"Lady Catherine is currently under treatment for severe PTSD and physical trauma."
"When can we interrogate her?"
"Even if her body recovers, the mental damage is so profound that treatment is proving difficult. The doctors say she faces a high likelihood of lifelong mutism as a sequela."
"Tch. Pull whatever information you can once treatment wraps up. Torture if you have to."
"Understood."
Ironically, one suspect was mute, the other missing.
Vickers, the vice-captain Denver pinned as the ringleader—the key figure—couldn't be found, no matter how thoroughly they scoured the sewers.
'Of course not. He's already been eliminated.'
Why couldn't they pin down the culprit?
Denver had clearly gotten ahead of it, nine times out of ten.
Everything was transparent, yet he spewed lies.
She wanted to summon her men and haul him in right then, but superhuman restraint let her send him off—for now.
'Half-wrecked commercial district infrastructure, ambushing defense fleet soldiers, smuggling an unidentified specimen...'
Not one charge less than capital.
That alone boiled her blood, but something fueled her rage even more.
'To let that monster roam free!'
Early that morning, she'd given her father, Saddam Chemberlin, a full rundown.
His sole reply?
'No revenge—just bury it?'
For a man gunning for Mega Corp CEO, Ezerton's backing trumped this dusty special trade hub.
She knew the family's obsession; it wasn't incomprehensible.
But swallowing this would paint her as the bumbling fool who ate humiliation in silence.
'Tell me, T&C Special Trade Hub's overseer, to let my humiliator walk!'
No one in Mega Corp was ignorant of Denver's petty ploys against her.
Daily Mars had splashed it as morning breaking news: her public disgrace.
'Way Zhao, you filthy degenerate...!'
She gnashed her teeth, picturing the media manipulator who'd screwed her.
Daily Mars had dinged Denver's image too, but as patriarch, he stood firm.
Unlike her, the interchangeable city overseer.
'This path leaves me suffering alone.'
Her profit-first father might ditch her for Ezerton ties over vengeance.
She'd be the offering for mending fences.
"Overseer, your orders?"
"...Detain all Silver Lion Knight Order personnel. Have the defense fleet keep those on warships under strict watch—no funny business."
"Understood."
"Denver gets free movement only during the board meeting; total lockdown otherwise."
All she could manage now: curb Ezerton moves.
"We'll get to it."
One by one, the aides filed out on orders.
They'd carved out time for this meeting amid the frenzy, yet resolved nothing.
Powerlessness gnawed at Laila—until one idea flickered.
'My last card.'
She called back her departing secretary.
"What about that specimen the defense force secured?"
"The body's in storage at the science lab. Dissection's slated for late afternoon."
The freak Ezerton smuggled into the hub.
Defense force had claimed the corpse; now it sat in the Monument's basement science lab.
'Ezerton's new bioweapon.'
Her sole trophy from the fiasco.
"We have to wring value from that demonic beast. Otherwise, it's a net loss."
"Message relayed."
All had witnessed Ezerton's secret weapon's might.
Even the comeback hero Crisis Management Team Leader paled repeatedly in his report.
If T&C—no, Laila Chemberlin—could harvest and mass-produce its genes?
Family dominance would be child's play.
'That day, I'll claim patriarch.'
Alone post-secretary's exit, Laila's eyes smoldered quietly.
Several hours earlier, before Laila schemed rebellion in the Monument.
Silver Lion Knight Order Vice-Captain Vickers lurked in the sewers still.
Defense force patrols hunted him relentlessly.
"Nothing here."
｢Static—check elsewhere too—static.｣
"Roger... tch. When's the comms net fixed?"
Pursuers faded; Vickers surfaced from hiding nearby, silent.
His state was pitiful.
Power suit drained; only helmet and chest reactor remained—rest ditched elsewhere.
Depowered, elite suit was useless bulk.
No choice.
A crestfallen mutter escaped him.
"...To fall like this."
He'd deemed himself cautious, prepared—total miscalculation.
Monster's cunning exceeded imagination; its wedge play toyed with defense and knights alike.
'Somehow escape, report truth to His Lordship.'
Vickers knew his lord discarded him.
Soldiers' hunt meant public narrative: his solo assault on defense.
Irrelevant.
Denver had warned: if sour, he'd take the fall. Vickers consented.
He was his lord's blade.
Blades heed owner's will; tools lack volition.
'No soldiers near.'
Presence gone, Vickers pressed on.
Nearby exit: fresh breach from sewer ceiling collapse.
Surface, hide in ruins—chances would arise.
"Cough, damn it."
No armor meant raw sewage chilled his flesh as he pushed through.
Injured shoulder throbbed despite meds.
Fatigue piling on wounds? Coughs wracked him nonstop.
Vickers clamped hand over mouth, hurried.
Movement revealed light ahead.
'Almost!'
He clambered from filth, scaled debris.
Prolonged submersion pruned fingertips; scraping metal shreds bloodied hands instantly.
'Just more!'
Ignoring surging pain, he hauled upward.
One stretch: surface.
The instant he reached—the world froze.
'What?'
Not world—himself.
Body lifted slowly, yanked back into depths.
'Wh-what is...?'
Flustered, formless pressure crushed him.
Squeeze like unprotected deep-sea plunge.
"Guh—ack! W-wait... ughk! Nngh!"
Limbs contorted wildly.
Puppet on taut strings, control fled.
Fingers to wrists, arms; toes to ankles, legs—snapped at grotesque angles.
Waist wrenched reverse; ribs speared skin, jutting out.
Scream tore unbidden—soundless.
Final backward glance.
Pink balloon loomed, flanked by twin purple orbs.
Her hunt victorious, she passed the prey to the little one.
While the little one fed, she vigilantly swept the surroundings.
The big one remained oblivious, but she'd grown further from the prior clash.
Her innate mysterious power now hers to wield with far greater finesse.
She sensed, influenced objects at greater distances.
Thus, tracked her beloved big one's location.
Not mere physical bloom.
Mentally matured, she grasped the big one's sacrifices for them.
Knew his protection stemmed from selfish urge.
Yet selfless 'affection' burgeoned within.
As she evolved, so did he.
She held no grudge.
His stake in her heart dwarfed all.
Rebuked the little one's prattle; pondered ahead.
Big one wished them tucked away meekly—but her view diverged.
To aid him, max growth pre-reunion.
Fortune smiled: underground teemed with nutritious, easy marks.
Four-limbed creature corpses littered everywhere.
'Camouflage worked.'
Senses returned, aux organ first scanned locale.
Acrid chem solvents, faint blood tang.
EM waves adrift, device hums scattered.
Elements screamed: Monument basement science lab.
I sprawled bound atop a colossal metal dissection slab.
Corpse ploy noted, yet paranoia peaked: cuffs clamped limbs.
'Ignore.'
Stout, but my strength scoffed.
Snap effortless—but cams watched.
Calculated moves only.
'Gene vault nearby.'
Special trade hub no gene research specialist.
Nearest: all-round pleasure den.
'Mega Corp labs stock vaults regardless.'
Basement bred T&C-loyal drones via mods.
'Obedient hires': gene tweaks stifling resistance.
'Reverse Hulk mutants—prime for junk genes.'
Boiled down: forge subhuman thralls.
Hence, gene stocks aplenty.
'City's prime gene farm spot.'
No exotics likely, but targets worth hitting.
'Nab new-type unlockers.'
My gene snag trait boosted odds.
Icon of the Hunt.
Invoke, plunder: desired types unlocked.
'Need visitors first.'
Smooth plan hinged on conditions.
I waited.
Footfalls neared outside.
"Overseer wants gene weaponization check."
"Figures. Word is it devoured dozens—troops, knights."
ID ping; door hissed open.
Four lab-coated researchers entered.
Gear for mega-dissection: exposed exo-suits bulkier than norms, twin aux-arms per back android-style.
"Freakish. Us, carve this?"
"Tch. Overtime city."
"Gear up fast."
Aux-arms loaded chems, scalpels onto slab.
'Chems ideal.'
Smokescreen need met perfectly.
Tail flicked subtly toward them.
"Hm?"
One whirled; I froze corpse-still.
"Eyes playing tricks?"
"No slacking—help move gear."
"Fine."
Unsuspecting, he joined shifting tools.
Aux tracked motions; I schemed.
'Conditions green.'
Icon of the Hunt prerequisites fulfilled.
Icon spawned reason-shredding hunger.
Post-fade sans chow: I'd berserk, cams alert, terminated.
'Prep fodder pre-emptively.'
These four researchers.
Icon sacrifices.
'First, a little aid though.'
Slipped prep sight-free.
'Cams complicate stealth exits.'
Hence: compliant, obedient pals.