Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Ep. 83
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“Hey. It's patrol time.”
“Already?”
“Good luck out there.”
The three Wolffs in the Monument's 7th-floor security office stepped out together.
“What's today's route again?”
“Same as always.”
“Ugh, I hate going by the VIP suites. Someone said there's a weird smell coming from there.”
“What smell? I didn't notice anything.”
The dog-headed Wolff shook his head as if it was ridiculous.
“It smells like a human dying of some disease. You guys must've heard it too—the coughing every night.”
“Nah, come on. Those folks eat the fanciest food around. No way they're sick.”
“Speaking of, things have been off with the defense fleet lately too, haven't they?”
The cat-headed Wolff waved it off like it was nonsense, but the cheetah-headed female Wolff shot back.
“Defense fleet? What about them?”
“A bunch of soldiers suddenly got weak and ended up in the hospital. Most of the officers took sick leave too.”
“Even the officers? What the hell did they eat?”
“A buddy of mine went to the hospital, and even they don't know what's causing it. Anyway, the fleet's in chaos over manpower shortages.”
“Fuck that manpower bullshit. If only we could cut back on these overtime shifts.”
“Tell me about it. I haven't hit the entertainment district in so long, my balls are about to burst.”
“You maniac.”
They grumbled about the Monument's upper levels nonstop as they patrolled.
As the saying goes, gossiping about others is the world's greatest entertainment. Before they knew it, they were nearly done with the route.
“Just floors 3 and 4 left, right?”
“Yeah.”
Floors 3 and 4 housed the food storage and supplies depot, respectively. Each facility took up the entire floor, and no civilians were allowed inside.
“Hey, sorry, but I gotta hit the bathroom real quick.”
“Lay off the coffee already.”
“Got it. We'll cover for you.”
As the dog-headed Wolff dashed off to the restroom, the cat-headed and cheetah-headed Wolffs took the elevator down to floor 4.
They arrived on 4 and headed for the supplies depot when a woman appeared, standing there.
A master card from the 3rd Central Control Room hung from her chest.
“Oh? You're that Anna from control, right? What brings you here?”
“Hello. My flashlight broke, so I came to replace it. But my card won't let me in...”
Anna spoke in a troubled tone.
“For that, you need to contact the equipment management team, submit a request form, and get it replaced.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.”
Anna nodded in agreement but showed no sign of leaving.
The cheetah-headed Wolff caught on to what she wanted and was about to speak up when the cat-headed one jumped in between them.
“Hold on. Anna, that'll take forever and be a hassle. Let me help you out.”
“What about patrol?”
“We have to check inside anyway. I'll help her quick and catch up. You go to floor 3.”
“Ugh, you're impossible...”
The cheetah-headed Wolff shook her head at her colleague's scheming.
She knew arguing wouldn't help, so she clamped her mouth shut and let him do as he pleased.
The cat-headed Wolff flashed a bright smile as he stepped out of the elevator.
“Thank you.”
“No problem at all. Shall we?”
Having sent his partner off alone, the cat-headed Wolff walked the corridor with Anna.
Since floors 3 and 4 were each dominated by their respective facilities, there weren't many doors.
Just the entrance to the supplies depot and the one leading to the emergency stairs.
“How's things in your control room these days?”
“Oh, same old.”
“Right? Up here in security, the higher-ups make it hell. Cults gonna Cult—uh, not that I'm talking about you, Anna.”
“Ah, sure.”
Even as they walked, the cat-headed Wolff's mouth never stopped.
Anna's face had been deathly pale from the moment he first saw her, but he chalked it up to her being upset over the broken flashlight.
“Alright, let me get that door for you.”
At the depot entrance, the Wolff swiped his security card to unlock it.
The moment the door opened, the cat-headed Wolff froze without stepping inside. His pointed ears twitched toward the depot's interior.
“Huh?”
“What's wrong?”
“Uh, I thought I heard something...”
A sound came from the supposedly empty depot.
It resembled the chirp of insects—faint enough that you'd miss it without focusing.
Yet the cat-headed Wolff picked it up because it grated on his nerves like a dissonant chord.
Unlike him, with his keen hearing, Anna seemed oblivious to any anomaly.
She stepped inside as if nothing was amiss.
“I don't hear anything.”
“Really? Must've been my imagination.”
The cat-headed Wolff shook his head and tuned out the noise.
He followed Anna into the depot.
The supplies depot was vast.
It was filled with countless steel drawers and metal shelves towering to the ceiling.
“Why's the lighting acting up?”
Normally, the small ceiling lights would turn on automatically.
But now, far more were off than on, and some flickered erratically.
'Fuck, this place is creepy as hell.'
Was it the eerie noise? Or the ominous blinking lights?
He felt the thick fur covering his body stand on end.
“Anna?”
In the pitch darkness, Anna—who had gone ahead—had vanished.
He switched on his flashlight and cautiously navigated the metal shelves.
The air carried the musty scent of slightly rusted metal mixed with stored goods.
“Anna? Where are you?”
“Over here, deeper in.”
True to her word about the broken flashlight, she hadn't turned on any lights.
'Can't see shit myself, but she walked right in.'
He followed her voice deeper inside.
With every step, the bizarre noise in his ears grew louder.
'Where the hell is it coming from?'
The sound reverberated off the shelves, making its origin impossible to pinpoint.
One thing was clear: the unpleasant noise intensified the closer he got to Anna.
And finally, he found her.
“Anna? You scared me. Why didn't you answer?”
She stood among the shelves, facing the wall.
Even as he called out, she remained frozen in place.
“Anna?”
“......”
Only then did he sense something was wrong.
Her slender Cult frame was trembling uncontrollably.
As the cat-headed Wolff approached her, his flashlight suddenly stuttered and died.
“What the—?”
In the total blackness, he smacked the flashlight a few times.
“Ah, there we go.”
The light flickered back on.
At that instant, the grating noise in his ears vanished.
Anna had turned to face him sometime during that.
Or rather, her gaze was fixed somewhere over his shoulder.
By the time he realized it, it was too late.
The moment he turned his head, it—hanging upside down from the ceiling—pounced on him.
-
“Why the hell aren't those guys coming back?”
“Maybe they're holed up sleeping somewhere again?”
“Haa, seriously.”
Kenneth, the Cult in the security office, scowled at his subordinate's words.
“Useless bunch.”
He grabbed the communicator to chew out his slacking underlings.
A dial tone beeped, and one of them soon picked up.
“Hey, where are you? Why aren't you back yet?”
[Tsshh, b-big... tr-ouble... tsshh]
“What? Can't hear you.”
[Atta- tsshh, ck... tsshh-tsshh, entr- tsshh]
Kenneth's face hardened.
The connection was bad, making it hard to make out, but one word came through clear.
Attack.
“Where are you? I'm coming down now!”
[Foo- tsshh-tsshh-tsshh, d...]
“Hey! Damn it! Everyone, grab your weapons!”
“What's going on?”
“Intruders in the food storage!”
At Kenneth's shout, the six Wolffs left in the office tensed up.
With so many VIPs staying in the Monument due to important matters, an intruder now would spell disaster.
As his subordinates geared up with the office weapons, Kenneth contacted the higher-ups in the 1st Central Control Room.
“Why isn't this thing working? Hey, anyone got a spare communicator?”
His perfectly fine communicator suddenly failed, so he took one from a subordinate.
The moment he went to dial again, the office power cut out.
Emergency lights kicked in, bathing the room in red.
“...Looks like we're in an emergency for real. Gear up tight.”
The Wolffs nodded at Kenneth's words.
Plasma pistols at their hips, psychic shield bracelets on their wrists.
Meanwhile, Kenneth activated his own psychic power technique.
Body Enhancement—a skill that greatly boosted allies' combat prowess.
After buffing each subordinate, he grabbed a motion detector from the office supplies.
[Beep, beep, beep...]
Activating it showed the Wolffs in the office and guests moving in the rooms above and below.
Kenneth adjusted it to filter out his team's movements and detect only others.
“Let's move.”
Tracking the faint signals from guest movements, Kenneth stood.
They left the office, traversed the corridor, and boarded the elevator.
The middle Wolff activated his psychic shield while the rest hugged the elevator doors' sides.
They reached floor 3. The doors opened to an empty hallway.
Power was out here too, leaving only darkness.
The Wolffs and Kenneth switched on the small lanterns attached to their plasma pistols.
Slender beams pierced the abyssal corridor, casting shadows.
“Sniff sniff. Faint blood scent from down the hall.”
“...As expected. Stay sharp, everyone.”
They passed the emergency stair door and reached the food storage entrance.
[Beep-beep-]
Movement detected inside, just as someone had reported.
At Kenneth's signal, shield-bearing Wolffs took point at the door, while the rest readied plasma pistols from behind.
As tension peaked, Kenneth swiped his security card on the panel.
The door opened, and a black-furred mass burst out.
“D-don't kill me!”
“Hold f—stop firing! He's one of ours!”
It was the dog-headed Wolff.
Confirming he was friendly, the Wolffs lowered their pistols at Kenneth's command.
“H-heek, we gotta run—now!”
The dog-headed Wolff was oblivious to how close he'd come to death.
His fluffy fur was soaked with sweat, and terror filled his usually cheerful face.
Kenneth calmed his half-mad subordinate.
“Easy now. What happened?”
“I-I had to hit the bathroom quick, so I split off for a bit, and when I came down...”
“Talk slow. Where are the others?”
“Wh-when I got to the storage, it was a bloodbath inside. Th-the thing was e-eating our comrades.”
“Eating them?”
Kenneth felt something off.
He'd spoken to the dog-head's partner—the cheetah-headed female—right before coming down.
If the dog-head was telling the truth, he'd talked to a dead subordinate.
“No way. I was on comms with your partner just before we headed down.”
Then.
[Beep-]
His motion detector pinged.
And right behind them, the emergency stair door creaked open.
Gripping the handle were purple nails.
-
'That makes nine Wolffs.'
I bit into the dog head clutched in my hand.
It had a bit of a gamey smell, but nothing repulsive.
Like gnawing on ribs at a barbecue joint.
A scent that's there but somehow addictive.
After polishing off the remaining head and sucking the fingers clean, I looked down at my newly captured Cult.
“......”
He was fully paralyzed from the barbed hairs.
His handsome face was streaked with tears and snot.
'Still looks good, though.'
True to their reputation, Cults were all beauties and handsome sorts.
Not that it'd comfort him, but he wasn't the only Cult here.
The ones from Central Control who'd become my slaves were gathered too.
I'd summoned them.
[Grrr, wh-ere... ma-ny... gruk, hu-mans...]
“...The 4th Central Control has the most right now, at three.”
“Huh? Wait... kgh!”
The other control rooms had only one under my control each, or two including new recruits.
'If people vanish silently from those, the higher-ups will investigate immediately.'
As seen with Anna, everywhere except the 1st and 2nd Central Controls ran with 2-3 staff minimum.
So dropping the 4th to two wouldn't raise big flags.
Sure, a sudden resignation might ping radars, but less so than elsewhere.
'Plus, the sector the 4th handles is one I'll never need again.'
In short, the 4th Central Control Cults were expendable to me.
I snapped his neck without hesitation.
His tongue lolled out, and a black threadlike worm slithered from his nostril.
'You know where to go, right?'
The parasite crawled straight for the face of the downed security Cult without pause.
He shot pleading looks at the other Cults. Not that his kin could do anything.
As they averted their eyes, the parasite found its new home.
I leaned close to the security Cult's face.
“U-ugh!”
My reflection gleamed in his terrified pupils.
To the quaking man, I explained his future duties.
How many more Wolffs to offer, how to handle cleanup, and so on.
By the time the paralysis wore off, his old master—the city's overseer—was no more.
Now, he served his new master: the Aimorph.