Monument (2)

"My lord Akira. We will soon arrive at the T&C Special Trade Hub."

Akira Yujin opened his eyes at the voice of his retainer, resting inside the special capsule designed to fine-tune his body.

The capsule hissed open, and as he rose, a young woman approached him.

She was astonishingly beautiful, yet there was not a trace of emotion in her eyes.

She was the bearer of the title Code Black among the Eugene Family's Shadows, and one of Akira's most trusted confidants.

Black handed him a towel and a black beverage.

"How much time has passed?"

"One week since we began our voyage."

"So we'll be a day behind schedule."

She did not ask what had happened en route, or why they were delayed.

The Shadows would have handled any such problem on their own, and handled it well.

The ship they rode aboard — the flagship of the Eugene Family, the Heavenly Sword — carried no fewer than three Shadows tasked with protecting Akira.

Besides Code Black at his side, Code Red and Code Blue were somewhere within the vessel, carrying out security duties.

Akira tossed aside the towel he had wiped his mouth with and left the capsule chamber, Black trailing after him once she had delegated the cleanup to the other attendants.

As they walked together toward the bridge, he spoke abruptly.

"The T&C Special Trade Hub. It was already flourishing back before I became family head."

"Was it, my lord?"

Before Akira Yujin won three consecutive terms as CEO, two families had held the throne of Mega Corp longer than any other.

The Veda family, famed for their androids and AI development, and the Garmelda family, famed for their powered armor.

In Mega Corp's early days the Veda family monopolized the CEO's seat, but after the birth of Star Union they collapsed with startling speed.

The Veda of today barely clung to the last seat of Noble Capital.

Garmelda, by contrast, enjoyed the backing of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Edgerton family's elders and maintained its prosperity for a long while.

The next most powerful family after Garmelda had been T&C.

As the family with the greatest influence in space development, T&C had never once slipped from the upper ranks of Noble Capital.

"Back then, the Eugene family held little real influence. Some dismissed us as the family that kept the lower classes fed."

There was some exaggeration in that, but it was not entirely untrue.

The cheap genetically modified foods the Eugene family sold into the subsistence sectors of the lower Capitals carried an influence that was anything but small.

In fact, the Eugene share of Mega Corp's total food supply approached nearly half.

Yet regardless of that importance within Mega Corp, the Eugene family lacked influence over the other families of Noble Capital.

The higher one climbed through the Capitals, the more sharply consumption of gene-modified food fell off.

And so, at every Board of Directors meeting convened to elect a CEO, the Eugene family had been forced to swallow defeat again and again.

The moment that changed — the moment the Eugene family surged past its rivals — was when the Hulk Mutants were first deployed to the front lines.

Generation after generation of family heads had fixated on the potential of genetically modified soldiers, striving relentlessly to weaponize them for war.

And the family head of the generation immediately before Akira finally reaped that harvest.

Against that backdrop, Akira — the new family head — put forward a strategy of selling the Hulk Mutants to the other families, and claimed the CEO's seat.

Of course, there had been no small backlash within the family over his decision to sell what amounted to their secret weapon, but he had not worried.

The Eugene family's genetic engineering technology was, without exaggeration, unrivaled.

Other families had attempted to develop their own Hulk Mutants independently, and every one of them had failed for want of the necessary technology.

"Edgerton's coward seems to be playing games lately, but it won't amount to anything."

Akira had been using his Shadows to conduct reconnaissance on the various families within Mega Corp, so he already knew precisely what the head of the Edgerton family was planning.

"You mean the Silver Lion Knights, my lord?"

"Precisely. Mixing two or three genes and then crowing about the pinnacle of genetic technology — I find the spectacle rather amusing, don't you?"

Had Denver heard those words, he would have flown into a towering rage — but Akira had every right to say them.

Code Black, standing before him at this very moment, was proof enough.

Every member of the Shadows was an ultimate bioweapon synthesized from dozens of distinct gene lines.

"That snake at T&C seems to intend to suck the marrow out of Edgerton through their little arrangement, but they've buttoned their first button into the wrong hole. They would have fared far better backing our Eugene family instead."

That said, with the CEO's seat at stake, the odds of that calculating old serpent allying himself with Akira were slim.

And even if he asked, Akira had no intention of granting it.

As the two of them carried on this conversation that was barely a conversation, they arrived at the bridge.

The soldiers absorbed in their duties there bowed their heads silently at the sight of Akira.

"Kukukuku. This Board meeting should prove most entertaining."

Seated upon the throne of the bridge, Akira smiled in anticipation.

The Cold Storage. It's been a while since I've been here too.

Beneath the blue lighting, the dissected corpses of creatures were visible everywhere he looked.

Some were stacked atop stainless steel tables; others — things that looked disturbingly like human corpses — hung vacuum-sealed in plastic from hooks set into the ceiling.

The peculiar chill of the lighting and the bone-deep eeriness of the scene were exactly as he remembered them from the game, but there were two differences.

The cold air pouring from the air conditioners mounted on every wall, and the smell seeping from the corpses.

Those were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sensations a game could never convey.

So this is what it actually feels like.

He had once hidden among the corpses here and ambushed players, and back then the users had complained to him about it.

Why did he always have to pop out of some terrifying location?

At the time he'd wondered what they were whining about, but seeing it again now — yeah, the protest was entirely justified.

"H-here is the gene list you requested."

Just as he was lost in the mood of the place, the parasite-controlled Dissection Team Leader held out a terminal pad to him.

He had asked for it before coming here, wanting to know exactly what was in the gene repository.

I need to decide what to eat first.

There was always the chance that something he hadn't anticipated would happen, making it difficult to acquire the gene samples.

So he had to select and consume the essentials first — that way, if trouble arose later, the loss would be smaller.

Let's see.

Using his small arms, he examined the list displayed on the pad.

Hmm.

The variety of species they held was less impressive than he'd expected. There were simply a lot of samples taken from the same creatures.

Not that that's necessarily a bad thing.

He had already acquired more than one or two traits from humans alone.

The same applied to other creatures.

Even if the variety of species was limited, a single creature could yield multiple different traits.

I should target the samples of creatures ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with the best traits.

He scrolled slowly down the list, checking it meticulously. When he'd first glanced at it, he'd thought it rather unimpressive — but midway through, two species possessing traits he needed caught his eye.

There are Metallic Gremlins? And...

The sample of the creature that seized his attention was one that, under any normal circumstances, could never have been obtained here.

The Metallic Gremlin I understand.

Why a space city possessed samples of a creature that posed such a threat to it was something he could roughly guess.

The Metallic Gremlin species as a whole carried the negative trait of Dwarfism.

Just as the Amorph was cursed with an inability to interact with other species, no Metallic Gremlin could ever grow beyond one meter in height, no matter what it did.

At best, the higher subspecies known as the King Gremlin reached around a meter and a half.

Presumably the intent is to inject the Dwarfism trait into Employees to weaken them.

The Metallic Gremlin made sense — but how T&C had gotten its hands on a sample of 'that thing' was genuinely baffling.

[How... did... they... get... this...]

"It's a sample collected while dissecting smuggled animals, sir."

The world was wide, and eccentrics were many.

He had never imagined anyone would try to smuggle 'that thing'.

Considering the creature's size, they would have needed a container at least five times larger than the ones in the Port District.

Well, this is a place where people smuggle Mountaincrawlers and even Galagons, I suppose.

He accepted it with a mental shrug and looked over the rest of the list. Aside from those two creatures, nothing else on it carried traits of any real importance.

Still, if I get that thing's genes, it'll be a massive achievement.

And with good reason — that creature possessed traits tied to unlocking a new Type.

Once he obtained that Type, the range of what he could do would expand enormously.

It's the trait that enables spaceflight, after all.

Triumphant inside, he picked out around thirty samples and gave his orders to the Dissection Team Leader.

Just as he'd predicted, the moment the man laid eyes on the genetic samples of 'that thing', his face clouded with distress.

"Th-this creature, you mean?"

[Yes.]

"F-five or more samples of a rare species require ap-approval. Perhaps something else instead—"

[No.]

He would give up everything else if he had to, but 'that thing' had to be secured.

In the end, the Dissection Team Leader left the Cold Storage wearing the face of a man on his way to the gallows.

"Wh-what should we do in the meantime?"

[Wait.]

Even told they needed to do nothing at all, the faces of the three researchers were full of anxiety.

It was a pity, but only one future remained for them.

They were the sacrifice that would soothe the aftereffects of the Paragon of the Hunt.

By the way, how do I lure out that Cult that contacted us?

If he was going to eat them, it was best done while the Paragon's effects were still active.

This was a chance to acquire rare psychic-type traits, after all.

If I recall, each monitoring team had an authorized strength of three members.

Luring all three out at once would be ideal, but the odds of that were low.

One of them is always required to remain on standby in the control room.

His original plan had been to use the researchers to lure the Cult members into the Cold Storage, then inject them with the parasite when they arrived.

But after reading the list, his thinking had shifted somewhat.

If I get the Metallic Gremlin's traits, I can operate far more aggressively.

The Metallic Gremlin possessed EMP-like traits that disabled nearby machinery.

With those traits in hand, seizing not just one Cultist but the entire control room would be no difficult task.

That was why he had deliberately requested multiple samples of each creature — to raise the odds of drawing good traits.

For the Metallic Gremlin and 'that thing', the two most important targets, he had ordered every sample they possessed brought out.

Eight Metallic Gremlin samples, eight samples of 'that thing' — sixteen samples in total were stored in the repository.

Which meant he would have eight chances, each, to acquire those creatures' traits.

Of course, if all eight rolls come up Dwarfism, it's a total bust.

Even so, the Dwarfism trait itself would still allow for a variety of strategies.

Traveling through the ventilation ducts like he had in his Hatchling days, hiding inside human corpses to ambush prey, and so on.

This Monument was full of spaces a small body could navigate, so for conquering this building, Dwarfism was far from useless.

The problem is that this game's rules make every acquired trait permanent.

Unless he eliminated Dwarfism through the Transcendence System, he would be stuck under one meter all the way until Ascension.

He would face countless enemies from here on, and some of them could only be subdued by brute force. Fighting his way through them alone at a fraction of his proper size would be anything but easy.

Not that I have any intention of acquiring it anyway.

"I've brought them."

Just as he was still pondering how to handle the Cult, the Dissection Team Leader returned, placing the capsules holding the samples atop the stainless steel table.

Good. Shall we begin, then?

He activated the Paragon of the Hunt.

"Hiiik?!"

The moment his body began to swell, the researchers inside the Cold Storage gulped down their breath.

A shell crept over his eyes, and the horns atop his head grew larger.

His frame ballooned, the distance from tail to head expanding from three meters to nearly five.

His tail had grown in proportion to the rest of him, and with body and tail combined, his total length now approached ten meters.

On his combat arms, a carapace resembling a shield sprouted at what would be the wrist on a human, while two new arms bearing blades of bone erupted from his back.

[Grrrrrrr]

Transformation complete, he rumbled low in his throat at the exhilaration flooding through his entire body.

One of the researchers, overwhelmed by his transformation, groaned with a face on the verge of fainting.

"Uuuugh..."

And then came the rising stench of ammonia.

Nobody blamed him for it. Every one of them was wearing the exact same expression.

Ignoring their reactions, he used his small arms to pick up one of the sample capsules.

Printed in small letters on its surface was the word Skywhale.

Time to unlock a new Type, then.

He tipped the genetic samples of 'that thing' — the Skywhale, bearer of the trait he needed most — into his mouth, capsule and all.

The capsule cracked apart in his maw, and the genetic essence within the sample seeped into his body.

Then came that peculiar heat he always felt upon gaining a new trait.

Yes. It worked—

A semi-transparent text box — the same one that had always appeared whenever the Predation Effect triggered.

But new words had been added to it.

What? Cheats aren't allowed? No way—

He hurriedly opened the urgent message.

Insane.

There had been no shortage of crises since he arrived in this world.

He had panicked over a body he wasn't used to, clawed and scrambled just to survive after running into enemies he should never have encountered so early, been thrown off by the appearance of systems he had never seen before, and been plunged into danger when reality refused to follow the game's script.

But he was the only player among all the Amorphs to ever reach the ranks of the top-ranked.

He had overcome ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every obstacle by drawing freely on the experience and knowledge he had accumulated over long years of playing the Amorph.

And that was why he had forgotten.

Forgotten that Space Survival had always been an utterly, magnificently merciless game.