Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: Tensions in the Monument
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Monument's conference room.
Today marked the fifth day since the board of directors had convened.
The team leaders gathered in the room all kept their heads bowed, lips tightly sealed.
They had assembled here several times since the board meeting, but the atmosphere had never been as heavy as it was today.
The reason was Laila, the city's master, seated at the head of the table.
Cold frost clung to her face as she spoke.
"The board over these past five days has been a total failure."
"……."
"You all know who to blame without me spelling it out."
Someone gulped at Laila's declaration.
The two who had served as reefs in this board meeting were Akira Yujin and...
One was Akira Yujin.
The king of the Yujin Family and ruler of Mega Corp, he had been aggressively lobbying outside the conference hall.
'That sleazy bastard. It's an unwritten rule that CEOs don't attend board meetings.'
Under Mega Corp law, electioneering by CEOs or CEO candidates was illegal.
Of course, just because it's law doesn't mean everyone follows it—that's the way of the human world.
All families lobbied discreetly before or even during elections.
They all did it, so they kept quiet about it.
But Akira had crossed the line.
He openly met with elders from other families, striking deals on what he'd offer in exchange for their votes.
It was blatant illegality, so Laila protested, but interference from Way Zhao and the pro-Akira faction killed it.
That was tough enough, but an even graver issue loomed.
'Thompson and those damn hot-blooded pups!'
Among the two clans building T&C, Thompson's people were actively sabotaging her.
They welcomed a T&C CEO but opposed Saddam Chemberlin becoming one.
Currently, the power balance between the two clans stood at 6:4, with Chemberlin ahead.
If Saddam became CEO, the gap would widen dramatically.
So Thompson's personnel were causing all sorts of chaos targeting the visiting Prime Capitals.
T&C was a family forged from Thompson and Chemberlin clans.
Even if Chemberlin claimed they were different, outsiders saw them as one.
Thus, every time Thompson acted like thugs, the image of Chemberlin, led by Saddam, plummeted.
Thompson's issues were a chronic problem even her father—nicknamed the Serpent—couldn't solve.
Naturally, it was beyond her too.
"If this continues, I'll lose my position as chief administrator. If a new one comes, all of you I personally appointed will be ousted too."
She was right.
Regardless of her situation, T&C immediately expelled anyone deemed incompetent.
If Laila were driven out, her appointees would be banished to the outskirts or forced to find new work.
"I trust none of you look forward to that future."
"O-Of course not! Chief Administrator!"
All the team leaders shot to their feet, shouting vigorously.
Laila nodded silently.
These were tough times, so she tightened discipline on purpose.
If she lost her authority, these people would surely harbor other thoughts.
'But the root problem remains unsolved.'
She needed a breakthrough.
Her gaze turned to the dissection team leader, who was attending for the first time.
"Dissection Team Leader."
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
His face had been pale even before entering the room, but he straightened up at her call.
"Have you registered the genetic data extracted from the monster?"
"N-Not yet."
By protocol, new lifeforms required registering their genetic data in the Mega Corp archive.
However, families like Yujin or Ezerton—who profited from genetic info—often treated it as trade secrets and skipped registration.
Laila pondered briefly before speaking.
"Hold off on registration and keep the research going. I'll take responsibility."
"U-Understood."
"And can you present the current research results right away?"
"P-Pardon? Well, with some prep, it shouldn't be hard..."
"Then finalize it by tomorrow afternoon and report to me. If the results satisfy, we'll announce the new business division during the board—introduce it together."
The team leaders gasped at Laila's bombshell.
The city's administrator was cautious, always rigorously vetting every project.
For her to push a new one so suddenly shocked them all.
"It's just a high-level overview anyway, so no need to stress. Budget, personnel—plenty to review, so we'll handle those step by step after the announcement."
"Yes, ma'am!"
The team leaders eyed the dissection team leader enviously at Laila's unprecedented decision.
Good results meant his rocket promotion was all but guaranteed.
"Congratulations."
"Th-Thank you."
The biology management team leader next to him offered well-wishes with a jealous grimace.
Outwardly basking in envy, the dissection team leader was dying inside.
'Fuck! What did I do to deserve this hell...'
He cursed inwardly.
A horrific bug still lurked in his brain.
But he couldn't speak.
He'd seen his subordinates devoured alive by the monster.
His dream was to live long and healthy.
Money and power meant nothing if you died.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
"Yes..."
Mistaking his awkward expression for nerves, Laila picked up the tablet pad on the mahogany table.
"Shall we, cough, ahem, begin the meeting?"
Was it board fatigue? Laila coughed once and started the meeting.
'No predation effect this time.'
I poked at my teeth with a slender claw, feeling a twinge of regret.
Today was my fifth day in this building.
So far, I'd devoured a total of seven Cults.
On the first day, I hunted one in Central Management Room 3. The second, I slept off the aftereffects of Hunting Mirage, wasting the whole day.
From the third day, I resumed, bagging two each day up to now.
All targets were from the management rooms.
'Rooms 3 through 6 weren't too tricky.'
Room 3 exceptionally had only two Cults on duty; the rest, 4 through 6, had three each.
I left one in each and ate the rest.
The reason? Simple.
To turn them into new minions.
'Need someone to handle retiree processing.'
HR might've suspected otherwise, but not this time.
'The board turned into a boon.'
With workloads spiking from the board, voluntary retirements among Cults rose. HR didn't bat an eye at the management rooms' spikes.
They inspected last night for anomalies, but by then, everything was done.
The survivors in Central Management Rooms 3 through 5 were all my slaves now.
Today, I ate two from Room 6 and enslaved one.
"...Is it over?"
Ana, who'd waited during my meal, asked.
Beside her stood the newly parasite-infected Cult from Room 6, face gloomy.
He looked uneasy about betraying his colleague.
'I felt bad too.'
From day four, I'd hunted without Hunting Mirage.
The effect ended, and my post-meal buffet was gone.
'Emptied the freezer on day three—no choice.'
So predation procs were underwhelming.
'Nah. Got a new fusion trait and unlocked a type—plenty of gain.'
Traits from leftover samples, researchers, and Cults piled up.
Usable ones: two.
Psionic fusion 'Ghost Claw', and 'Pain Reduction' tied to the new type.
Ghost Claw first.
Fused my 'Beast Claw' with 'Psychic Whip' from a slain Cult.
My combat arm's claws had changed. No longer bulky hooks, now slender scythes gleaming vivid purple.
'Ghost Claw penetrates even solid walls effortlessly.'
I gripped the master card from my latest meal.
Squeezing, it phased through my hand to the floor.
Full-body range would've been ideal, but it's hand-limited.
Still, piercing heavy armor to strike foes? Worth it.
Handy against Ezerton knights or Hulk mutants in thick plate.
'Next, Pain Reduction.'
Surprisingly from day one: ate a researcher amid Mirage aftereffects.
'The one who warned never to marry?'
No clue about his marriage, but it wasn't blissful.
Pain Reduction applied passively like a full organism trait. Effect: simple.
'Pain mitigation.'
In games, critical hits risk panic or seizure debuffs. This softens them.
Meaning: stay clear-headed even with mortal wounds.
'Exactly what I need.'
Last knight fight, Blade Claw's slash made me scream.
Lucky it favored me—otherwise, disaster.
Humans panic in agony, flee from grave injury.
Body's Aimorph, mind's human.
A slip could doom me via base instincts.
'Pain Reduction cuts dumb choices mid-battle.'
Gains didn't stop there.
As a special defense trait, it's its own category—not flesh or psionic.
Now unlocked four types total.
'Flesh Enhancement and Psionic Enhancement secured. Infection and Special Defense just info-unlocked.'
Unlock one more type info plus a fusion trait there? Transcendence Stage 2.
'Evolution needed four full types too.'
For Near-Adult, specific race eats plus four complete types.
Dilemma here.
Transcendence 2 adds new type info and trait—but consumes fusions, delaying Near-Adult.
Near-Adult first? Stuck with Stage 1 limits.
'No Stage 2 means unique trait limits stack forever.'
Not immediate, but Stage 2 breakthrough inevitable someday.
'Stage 2 or Near-Adult.'
I shook my head after mulling.
'Pointless worrying now.'
Neither condition met.
Both demand full prep.
'Game was linear—now it's thrilling.'
Curious what follows Near-Adult.
A faint thrill stirred as I rose.
'Next moves?'
Gene essence farming unchanged for either.
Purpose here: eat Cults.
Toiling the master card, I pondered.
'Cults cluster in two departments.'
Most in central management rooms.
Untapped: Room 1 (Monument Central AI) and Room 2 (quarters management).
Room 1: three guardians, all powerhouse-strong. Room 2: 24 Cults.
Quality vs. quantity.
Kill Room 2's? Auto-complete psionic users x20.
'But no easy feat.'
Both rooms have Soul Link Cults. One down mid-shift alerts the rest.
'Upper rooms need prep.'
Alternative: security team.
Monument security: Wolf agents bulk, few Cult leaders.
Cults' sharp senses lead scent-hounds sensitive to change—balanced setup.
'Evolution conditions: Wolves and Cults incomplete.'
Planned apartment hunts in residential district.
Detoured, so only humanoids x20 done.
Security first fills shapeshifters and psionics simultaneously.
Cults there? Maybe five.
Won't max Cults, but Wolves possible.
'Security gets me outside Monument.'
Beyond patrols, they monitor entry/exit of people and goods.
Control them, hunt freely in admin district.
Target off-duty Room 1/2 Cults.
'Tense at work, but home?'
Even sharp Cults won't expect ambushes in comfort zones.
My gaze swept the room's screens.
Monument security Wolves and Cults patrolled camera-lit halls.
Chatting idly, oblivious to their doom.
'Next: security team.'
Those carefree furballs were my new prey.