Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Ep. 84
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“Ahem, that concludes the presentation. D-does anyone have any questions?”
The Dissection Team Leader carefully set down the microphone he held in his trembling hands.
Monument conference room.
Gathered here were the very pinnacle of Mega Corp's power structure.
Prime Capital elders and patriarchs.
Noble Capital and current CEO Akira Yujin, along with the Thompson family of T&C.
Elders from other Noble Capital families as well.
The Mega Corp executives sat in stunned silence, their faces etched with shock after hearing the Dissection Team Leader's announcement.
One of them muttered under their breath.
“I had no idea T&C was so advanced in genetic engineering...”
The words slipped out in the presence of Akira Yujin himself, but no one called them out.
Not even Akira Yujin, whose face betrayed his utter astonishment—he couldn't mask it.
At least four distinct genes, perfectly fused. Was that even possible?
Akira Yujin was certain he wouldn't be this shocked even if someone told him Earth had just split apart.
And for good reason: the shabby man's presentation detailed technology that far surpassed the Yujin family's genetic expertise.
Dangerous.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, someone in the conference room raised a hand.
Way Zhao, the man who dominated Mega Corp's media.
“Haha, looks like even the Noble Capitals are in for a generational shift.”
Generational shift.
A pointed jab implying that this announcement could reverse the power dynamic between Yujin and T&C.
It also hinted that Way himself would switch allegiances.
True to form for a media man—faster than a bat at flipping sides.
Way's words flipped the room's atmosphere on its head.
In T&C's favor.
Laila smiled at the sight.
Finally!
Her health had plummeted these past few days, but this moment's thrill erased every ache.
She looked like a living mummy from her illness.
Her eyes gleamed with manic fervor in that state—no one would call her normal.
But no one here would point it out.
The announcement was valuable enough to stun even her father, Saddam.
As everyone buzzed with excitement over the breakthrough, one man alone wrestled down a surge of fury.
Damn thieves!
Denver, head of the Ezerton family, ground his teeth.
Laila and the Dissection Team Leader had packaged it as their long-researched achievement, but Denver knew the truth.
He knew exactly where today's results came from.
It was mine to begin with!
If things hadn't soured with Laila, he might have gotten his share.
As reward for aiding the monster subjugation.
But their relationship lay in ruins, and Vice Captain Vickers of the Silver Lion Knights—who could have vouched for him—never showed.
This could cut off T&C's funding too.
Saddam funded him for one reason: a new Hulk mutant would undermine Akira Yujin's position.
But that need was gone now.
They could craft their own using the monster's corpse.
No, it's not over yet.
Denver's eyes turned ice-cold.
The feat they crowed about stemmed solely from that monster's remains.
If the corpse vanished, his dreaded future wouldn't come to pass.
I need to seize that body!
Conveniently, his knights were confined in Monument's guest quarters.
With the right orders for ‘appropriate’ action, snatching the corpse from somewhere in this building wasn't impossible.
While Denver schemed in the shadows, Akira summoned Code Black, disguised as a bodyguard.
“Dig into that one.”
“Understood.”
“Take Code Red if needed.”
“...I'll handle it with urgency.”
Code Black departed swiftly, but Akira's gaze remained locked on the Dissection Team Leader.
The man drawing such fervent attention from Mega Corp's elite.
He'd normally be ecstatic.
If not for that thing nesting in his home.
Four days prior, it had slipped out on a Monument security truck and infiltrated his house.
Forcing him to sleep in the basement, sensing its watchful presence.
Someone, save me!
But his pleas never escaped.
Hm? A familiar thought wave drifted in from afar. One of the five parasites—the one lodged in the Dissection Team Leader's head.
Because of the house?
I'm currently holed up outside Monument, using the Dissection Team Leader's house as a temporary base.
Team leaders get houses in the admin district.
The Special Trade Center provides free housing and personal vehicles to Cults and senior officials.
William—the one I devoured before—lived in the admin district, and all my Cult slaves reside nearby.
The Dissection Team Leader has more uses than that.
He's feeding regular reports about me to the city overseer.
Keeping Monument's upper crust from linking staff disappearances to me.
And the info leak I feared isn't severe.
Per him, my genetic data isn't in the Mega Corp archives.
Overseer's orders—I can guess why.
Greed.
Like the Ezerton knights who got greedy trying to capture me and paid the price.
The city ruler's hiding the research to monopolize claim over me.
So my studies fall solely to the Dissection Team Leader and his ‘subordinates’.
They don't even know the researchers are dead.
A blunder from running the project lean for secrecy.
Foolish.
Obsessed with illusory ‘breakthroughs,’ they're blind to the dying city and what's gone wrong.
The city perishes, yet they chase results.
Death now spreads through this space city.
Death under the guise of space bacteria variants.
The ones I battled in the sewers are diligently unleashing a mystery plague.
Space bacteria alone aren't lethal to humans.
Flu-level at worst.
But fused with sewer filth, they've mutated into a true scourge.
Without the Ezerton knights, it wouldn't have hit Monument or the admin district.
Neutralizing the defense fleet would have sufficed.
My plan targeted only them—the biggest barrier to escape.
But the knights joined the subjugation, then got ‘confined’ under lodging pretense, exploding the spread beyond intent.
By now, most inside Monument are infected.
A few more days, and it'll spiral out of control.
Nothing graver than a plague ripping through a sealed space structure.
Especially if the overseer and elite fall first? Total collapse.
Granted, early detection could've eradicated the variant easily.
But they're distracted now.
Their folly lets me fill evolution conditions smoothly.
Just eight Cults left.
Before this house, I devoured night-shift Wolf from security.
After settling in, more admin district Cults.
Almost there.
By the time I finish, the defense fleet will be crippled by pandemic.
Then I can bail with No. 26 and Adhai.
No pursuit possible—short on troops and officers.
Androids are an option, but post-Star Union revolt, Mega Corp bans them aboard.
Without quelling my bacteria plague, tracking me from this city won't be easy.
Everything's on track.
I finished resting and rose.
I wonder if the kids are holding up.
Too far for easy chat.
Waves reach but fragment midway—no real communication.
Could persist, but this is Cult turf.
Psychic sensitives could intercept waves from me or No. 26.
Cults in Primary Central Control could.
Those Cults outclass the ones I've eaten.
One-on-one's risky; three together, I'm toast.
Yak-horn Cults are beasts.
Cults specialize psychic powers by horn shape.
Goat horns favor support; ibex, melee.
Matching horn amps power over double.
Yak horns master four psychic lines.
Melee, ranged, buffs, crowd control—triple synergy on those.
My traits bolster defense, but Yak psychics still overwhelm.
That's why I target others.
I slipped out of the Dissection Team Leader's house.
Today's prey: two Cults from Secondary Central Management.
Two days' tracking—they're lovers, cohabiting.
Both goat-horn Cults. Low combat threat.
Psionic Resistance and Perfect Organism give me top-tier psychic defense.
In this city, only Yak-horns can scratch me.
No plans for a fair fight anyway.
This one.
Hijacking trait neutered the cameras as I raced to their house.
Pruned street, orderly trees.
White houses and green lawns evoking American suburbia from old dramas—not dystopian space grit.
Pre-rush hour: deserted streets.
Auxiliaries pinged occupants inside, but no alarm at my approach.
There.
House with Cult motifs on the gate.
I inspected the front door.
Handle and keyhole—no fancy security.
Ghost Claw activated.
Hand shimmered faint purple, went semi-transparent.
Phased it through, released claw tip, unlatched the innards.
Click. Door swung open.
Perfect.
Inside sweep: identical layout to Dissection Team Leader's.
First floor: three rooms, one bath. Second: two rooms, one bath. Basement.
Same blueprint, worlds apart in vibe.
Nerd haven versus refined antique: ringed wood tables, aged leather chairs wafting old scents.
Hide here.
Crawled into the basement.
“Oh, oppa, not here...”
“Why not? It's great.”
“We just got off work. Shower first.”
“Together?”
“Seriously!”
“Heh, fine. I'll prep—take your time.”
The Cult couple, locked in fervent kisses since entering, parted with reluctance. The female Cult headed for the stairs when her lover called out.
“Hey, hold up.”
“Hm? Mmph?”
He cradled her turned face, sealing her lips softly.
“Smack... haa... oh... slurp... Oppa... eek!”
Mid-kiss, the male deftly channeled psychic power, stroking her back. Electric bliss surged; she moaned aloud.
“Haa... slurp... smack... Yes! Slurp... Oppa... eek! S-stop!”
She shoved him off, barely clinging to sanity. Neck and ears aflame, she shot a glare.
“Oppa, really!”
“What? Why?”
“...Sigh.”
His grinning face melted her ire. She sighed and climbed to the second floor.
“Time to set up.”
The male retrieved a premium wine bottle and two glasses from their cabinet hideaway. Specially imported from Earth for tonight. Heading up with the gift, a voice echoed down.
“Oppa, hot water's not working!”
“Again? Got it! I'll check the basement!”
He yelled back, wine in hand, and opened the basement door.
“Huh? Acting up again?”
Light flicked on—no response. Flashlight or not?
“Eh, no biggie.”
Down he went, wine and glasses clutched. Familiar glitch; he navigated the pitch black flawlessly.
“This the one?”
Activated the water regulator. Red glow shifted green; grateful shout from above.
“Heading up...”
Mid-turn, he sensed it. Something behind him. Crash! Wine bottle met cold floor, shattering. The spilling liquid gleamed unnaturally red—too vivid for mere wine.
“Hmm~ hum~” The female Cult hummed under the warm spray. Endless OT lately; first on-time clock-out in ages. Mood soared. Surprise gift—what could it be? En route home, her boyfriend teased a shock present. Meant for year-end break, but work woes advanced it to tonight. She pried, but he stonewalled. Just anticipate. Pondering its wow-factor, the bathroom door creaked open behind her. Here it comes! Heart pounding, she whirled around.
Too easy tonight. The couple, plotting romantic fun, never clocked my intrusion. No fight—picked off one by one. City Cults this sloppy? On their homeworld, goat-horns wouldn't fold so quick. Anyway, objectives met. Exited for base. Evening crowds sparse; took a detour. Six more to go. Dissection Team Leader's place was close. Hm? Someone stood before his house. Instant recognition triggered a vision flash.
｢Encountered an unavoidable existence.｣
｢I am dead.｣
What the—?
Recognizing it as Predator Sense's danger foresight, my combat arm severed clean.
Kuh?!
Pain Reduction
Pain rapidly mitigated. Combat functionality partially restored.
Agony nearly blacked me out, but Pain Reduction auto-fired, dulling it fast.
I hurled backward.
The sidewalk I'd stood on pulverized by an invisible force—just in time.
Psychic Whip?
The thing that lopped my arm and shredded pavement: a weapon from a familiar ability.
But its power dwarfed what I knew.
“Indeed. So that's how it was?”
The woman before the Dissection Team Leader's house.
Black garb evoking mourning—she'd wrought the impossible.
“Capturing and dissecting you would certainly yield such results.”
She extended a hand; a vivid purple whip materialized in the air.
Yak horns now protruded from her temples.
“I must present you to Lord Akira.”
The dozens-of-meters lash hurtled toward me.