Crossroads (2)

Three patrol ships were chasing Adhai.

Those spacecraft, each resembling a forty-meter rectangular box, were Aegis-class small patrol ships deployed by MegaCorp. Small though they might be, each one bristled with four plasma batteries — hardly something you could rush headlong into.

What am I going to do?

The area around me was nothing but ruins left behind by Black's psychic breath, offering nowhere suitable to hide. If I run, I'd have to use the underground passage the kids came through — but fleeing below ground isn't exactly a good option either. Adhai was being pursued right now. If I got reckless trying to conceal myself and took a plasma bolt, that would be the real disaster. And Adhai's already hurt.

Her body carried the mingled scent of human blood and her own. If I had no intention of abandoning her here, I couldn't put any more weight on her.

I need some way to buy time... ah.

Come to think of it — when I'd lost consciousness, No. 26 had fed me Black and the Cultist corpses. There was definitely a text box after I ate Black. I hadn't been in my right mind, so all I knew was that something had flickered before my eyes; I hadn't examined it properly. I hurriedly pulled up the text boxes.

All of them were powerful traits — and one of them was exactly what I needed at this very moment. The instant I accepted, new text boxes appeared and my body began to change.

This mutation centered on my head and its surroundings. It began with a prickling itch at the corners of my eyes, then spread across my entire skull. The surface of my carapace sank and swelled as it reshaped itself; my horns curved forward, spiraling patterns forming along their length. When I had acquired the Psionic Enhancement Type, geometric engravings had been etched into the carapace covering my head — and now new patterns, resembling clusters of pupils, had been added on top of them.

True to the name Gaze of Horror, it gave the unsettling impression that countless eyes within my skull were watching the world outside. The changes weren't confined to my head, either. The flame organ inside my throat vanished, replaced by a newly grown organ that manufactured and launched microorganisms — and thanks to it, my entire neck had grown far thicker than before. The Resistance trait took effect internally, so it showed no visible change at all.

Good.

Having finished my evolution through the new traits, I called for No. 26.

[Grrrrr grr grrrr grr (I have to catch the ones chasing Adhai)]

｢Humans? You mean the prey with four little limbs?｣

[Grr (Yeah)]

It wasn't an inaccurate way to put it, so I didn't correct her.

[Grrr grr grrrrrr grr (The humans are riding inside those metal boxes)]

｢Mm-hm. I can feel them.｣

[Grr grrr grrrr (I can't catch all of them alone)]

｢Mm-hm. I'll help!｣

Thankfully, she caught on fast. One patrol ship would be one thing, but with three of them, handling them alone wouldn't be easy. No. 26 would have to pitch in here.

[Grrrr grr grrr (You have a power)]

｢Power?｣

[Grrrr grrrrrr grr (A power that makes humans go mad)]

If she could wield the Fear of the Deep Sea trait properly, she could incapacitate every crew member aboard those patrol ships. In the game, Sea Demons would often focus Fear of the Deep Sea on tanks and supports. The debuff inflicted at such times was ferociously potent — even enemies who had built thorough resistance couldn't block it entirely.

This is reality, so it might be different... but the distance between here and the patrol ships is considerable, too. Even if No. 26 uses Fear of the Deep Sea, I'm not sure it would reach the ships.

No. Think negatively and there'll be no end to it.

No. 26 was still small, but she was a Sea Demon all the same. She can do it. Besides, she was a clever one. If she could just grasp the knack of it, she would manage.

[Grrr grrrr grrr (Focus the power you have)]

｢Okay. Uuuuuuh!｣

While No. 26 trembled and concentrated, I checked on Adhai. She was clutching a patrol ship, circling the sky around this area. She dodged the ship's bombardment again and again with uncanny flying, but her speed was gradually falling.

She can't keep that up for long.

[Grrr grrrr grrr grrrrr grrrr (Fix your target clearly, and think of holding on to it)]

｢Hold on?｣

[Grr grrrr grrr (Yes. Like you'll never, ever let go)]

｢I'll try.｣

To be honest, I didn't know whether what I'd told her was correct. I had simply described, in broad strokes, the sensation of concentrating one's auxiliary organs on a target when marking prey. But it seemed to help No. 26 considerably. The rioting riot of colorful hues above her body gathered into a single point and took the shape of a massive eye.

｢Got it!｣

No. 26 sent out a thought-wave brimming with joy.

The very next instant, my auxiliary organs stiffened and screamed a warning at me: an extremely dangerous presence stood directly ahead. The muscles of my combat arms and legs contracted with tension, and the flow of acid blood running through my body quickened. This feeling was exactly the same as the one I'd had when I first came face to face with Sihyeon Yujin or Black.

It worked.

It had to be the effect of the Fear of the Deep Sea No. 26 had used — leaking onto me as well. Just as I'd thought, the fear gripping my heart vanished in seconds; she had released it once she realized I was being affected too.

[Grrrr (Well done)]

｢I'm amazing, aren't I? Aren't I?｣

[Grr (Yeah)]

I stroked the delighted No. 26. If I could feel that fear, ordinary crew members would never withstand it.

[Grrrrr grrrr (Throw me like before)]

｢Okay.｣

She wrapped her thick tentacles around my waist.

｢Here we go!｣

The tentacles holding me swung wide and hurled my body into the air. When I'd transformed into the Avatar of the Hunt, I'd measured nearly five meters excluding my tail and weighed a great deal, so No. 26 hadn't been able to throw me very high. But now that my size and weight had shrunk considerably, I could streak toward the patrol ships at tremendous speed.

Mid-flight, I extended my combat arms and flung my bloodsucking tentacles toward the nearest ship. The moment the red tentacles touched the hull, the small serrated blades running along them bored into the ship's outer wall. Anchored in place, I retracted the bloodsucking tentacles and pulled myself flush against the patrol ship.

The crew must have registered my presence, because two turrets on the ship's left flank swiveled to aim at me. I pressed myself flat to evade the first salvo, then crawled toward the nearer turret. Once in range, I activated my Ghost Claws and thrust my hand inside the turret, letting only the tips of my claws phase through to sever the wiring within.

One down.

The turret that had been targeting me glitched and ground to a halt. The remaining turret tried to fire on me, but I was already prepared: the obsidian plates lining my back in two rows clashed against one another, emitting a wavelength that scrambled machinery. Struck by the interference, the plasma turret's joints sparked and died on the spot. With the hijacking successful, control of that turret now belonged to me. The two turrets on the opposite side couldn't shoot at me at all — my position clamped to the outer wall sat squarely in their blind spot.

External threats: dealt with.

Through my auxiliary organs, I could sense the crew shouting beyond the outer wall. The enemy was rattled by an adversary they'd never planned for.

Not enough yet.

If they contacted the other ships and ordered them to shoot me down, I was finished. I had to shake them up far worse to prevent that. While my auxiliary organs writhed and sifted through the crew for whoever reeked most of metal, I used the hijacked turret to take aim at a sister ship. The screaming and cursing inside had grown noticeably worse when the turret vomited out a searing blob of green energy. The sphere flew straight and slammed into the tail section of another patrol ship. The stricken ship lurched violently, but its flight seemed largely unimpaired.

Piloting it myself is clearly a no-go.

In the meantime, my auxiliary organs had located the target I wanted. I activated the Gaze of Horror on him, then crawled along the ship's flank. At the hatch where the crew came and went, I destroyed the terminal inside with my Ghost Claws. Let's finish this fast. Tearing the half-opened door from its frame, I pushed into the patrol ship's interior.

—

"Damn it! Forward-left battery is down!"

"Left second turret is out of control too! Do something!"

"Then all we can do is shut down the fire-assist AI and restart it!"

The interior of Patrol Ship 1408 of the Defense Fleet was in complete disarray. One moment they'd been chasing a green flying creature; the next, an unknown enemy had ambushed them.

"Where did it go? It's not on the starboard cameras!"

"Spotted it on the upper camera! What is it doing?"

"Whatever it's doing, we have to knock it off the hull!"

While the crew of the operations room scrambled to devise countermeasures against the monster, the defense troopers stationed aboard never let their guard around them slip. Soldier 13, like his comrades, kept himself taut against an emergency that could erupt at any moment.

Then, without warning, every light inside the patrol ship went out. In the same breath, the clamor filling the ship fell utterly silent.

"Huh?"

Bewildered, Soldier 13 raised his Gauss rifle and stared ahead. "Wh-what the hell?"

Moments later the emergency lights flickered on, drowning the ship's interior in red — and the sight they revealed left him aghast. Crew members lay strewn across the cold metal floor in ribbons, torn apart, while nightmarish monsters crouched over the corpses, feeding.

"Aaaagh!"

"Hey! What's wrong with you?"

The instant he screamed, someone laid a hand on his shoulder. Soldier 13 turned, half-hoping it was a comrade — and his breath caught in his throat. Something wearing the exact face of the corpse-feeding monsters was smiling at him. Black blood wept from the corners of its eyes, and its mouth was split to the ears. It bared its teeth at him.

"D-diiiiiie!"

Soldier 13 fired his Gauss rifle. The monster's stomach burst open ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with a hole wide enough to fit a ping-pong ball, and it crumpled where it stood. At that, the other monsters wrenching at the corpses shrieked and hurled themselves at him.

"Aaaaah! Die! Die! DIIIIIIE!"

With every muzzle flash, another monster fell. Perhaps they had learned that one of their own was dead — hordes of them came pouring in from the other compartments. Soldier 13 swung his rifle toward them, and from somewhere a metal round came flying and punched straight through his skull.

Only after the round had gone through his head did he understand what he had been shooting.

"You son of a bitch! He's gone insane!"

"Hey! Snap out of it! Just hold on a little longer!"

"Medic!"

"HQ! This is 1408! Soldier 13's lost it — he's firing on our own men!"

Before he had time to regret what he'd done, Soldier 13's mind sank into darkness.

—

Success.

Thanks to the soldier struck down by the Gaze of Horror, seven of the twenty men aboard lay dead.

A downgraded version of Fear of the Deep Sea, but more than useful enough.

The Gaze of Horror was, in essence, a Fear of the Deep Sea that targeted only a single individual. It did have the drawback that, unlike its parent trait, the madness effect triggered only by probability — but it was still a powerful trait in its own right. Especially for sowing chaos among enemies, exactly like this.

While the enemy floundered, I sprinted through the patrol ship's corridors. The soldier driven insane by the Gaze of Horror had emptied his weapon in the operations room, and the entire defense force had converged there. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Before any of them noticed, I tore through the passageways, thinning out every crew member I met.

"P-please spare me! Please, spare—gk!"

I ripped the head from a crewman kneeling and begging, chewed it once, and swallowed it whole. As I fed and ran toward the operations room, bullets came flying from ahead. Tungsten rounds. Fat chance. Standard rounds — not armor-piercing ones — could never punch through my carapace.

I angled my head toward the inside of the operations room door where the soldiers were hiding, and opened my jaws wide. The microorganism-production organ within my throat whirred to life, and I spat a mold-packed mass out through my mouth.

"Ugh! Shit!"

The fungal spores sailed in a graceful arc over the soldiers' heads and dropped deep into the operations room. With a sound like a bag of kitchen waste hitting the floor, the mass exploded.

"What the... UuuEEEHHHCK!"

"Khhhkhh! Kaaaahhk..."

Screams rose from the soldiers struck by the fragments of the mass. The Rot Fungi Organ, born of Pain Spear and Fire Breath fusing, carried an effect far removed from its ingredients. Only two things had been inherited — the regenerative-degrading quality of Pain Spear and the "spitting something from the mouth" mechanic of Fire Breath — while everything else diverged entirely.

Naturally. It's an infection-type fusion trait to begin with.

The Rot Fungi Organ created fungal spores that necrotized and rotted wounds. When a spore mass burst, the fungus inside spread outward to infect other living beings. Stopping the infection required antifungal agents or a proper treatment regimen to purge the mold. Doable easily enough if you keep your head — but mid-battle, good luck.

In the game, any player hit by the Rot Fungi Organ's mold was thrown straight into a panic state. By lore, a creature stricken by the fungus suffered the agony of its entire body rotting away in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠real time. With no one nearby to help, emergency treatment alone was impossible.

"Uuuhhguuuhhhck..."

"Ghhhhh..."

The soldiers, retching and screaming from the agony, were soon reduced to barely drawing breath. Their faces were carpeted in pustules the size of fingernails; their uniforms hung soaked through with sweat, blood, and pus. Some had already rotted so deep into their bodies that black blood trickled from nose and mouth.

Once I confirmed that every soul aboard the ship was neutralized, I entered the operations room.

I'd love to pilot it directly, but a warship is beyond me alone.

A small survey vessel might be manageable, but anything in the patrol-ship class and up had too many controls for my hands to work at once. The best I could manage was autonomous navigation through the AI. Shame, but this will have to do.

I set the ship's heading toward the allied patrol ship marked on the radar and keyed the AI to charge at full power. The patrol ship's engines rumbled, and the operations room beneath my feet shuddered hard. As the ship thundered toward its target, I doubled back the way I had come.

Crawling back out onto the hull, I saw that one of the two remaining ships was already plunging toward the ground. No doubt No. 26 was down there, scrambling the crews' minds with Fear of the Deep Sea. Meanwhile, my hijacked ship and the remaining enemy were closing fast. They had belatedly realized what our ship intended and wheeled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sharply away. The instant the two ships scraped past each other, I flung out my bloodsucking tentacles and leapt to the other vessel.

The patrol ship, its soldiers infected with the fungus and its pilot lost, flew on pilotless toward the dome that embraced the distant city.

｢Adult!｣

From far away, Adhai sent a thought-wave my way. Greetings can wait.

Only one ship remained — the one I was riding. One lone small patrol ship, and the twenty crewmen inside it. They were the last enemy. If they had been willing to take the damage and shoot down the ship I'd boarded, none of this would have happened. They had made the wrong choice, and now only one option remained to them.

To simply be slaughtered.