Chapter 99
Chapter 99
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: The Ruthrak Cartel
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Ruthrak Cartel was a bit different from your typical Space Dogs outfit.
Most Space Dogs cartels made their living by raiding ships from other races. If they managed to plunder a superior vessel, they'd ditch their old rustbucket and upgrade to the new prize.
That meant most cartels only cared about arming their ships to the teeth, ignoring everything else.
But not the Ruthrak Cartel.
Their main source of income was capturing and smuggling rare animals. Plunder was just pocket change.
So they had a lot more to worry about than just weapons.
Secure holding facilities for their catches, storage for animal feed, launch bays for fighters designed to snag space-dwelling critters—you name it.
All those needs made the Ruthrak Cartel's ships comparatively massive for their size.
Their vessel stretched 300 meters long and 70 meters tall—a behemoth that rivaled a Mega Corp corvette in scale.
The ship's name was the Calvin.
Milo had named it years ago after hijacking it from a Star Union freighter.
Now that massive raider was closing in on fresh prey.
"Ten minutes until we reach the signal."
"We're this close—why can't we see it yet?"
The enormous display at the front of the bridge showed nothing but endless void.
Skywhales were bioluminescent creatures, like deep-sea beasts. Their glow was so vivid and beautiful it could be spotted from afar.
In the pitch-black uniformity of space, it should have been glaringly obvious.
Milo barked at his subordinate.
"Check the signal again."
"It should be visible by now..."
Then an emergency alarm blared through the bridge. It was from their central AI computer, Calvin.
In that instant, a pitch-black ship materialized on the display. It was right in front of them—close enough to taste.
Milo yelled in shock.
"What the fuck! Emergency evasion!"
"Everyone brace!"
The ship lurched violently in the evasive maneuver. The black vessel on screen streaked past and vanished beyond the frame.
The pirates in the bridge screamed as they tumbled across the floor.
Milo, a Wolf Clan warrior and top-tier fighter, managed not to embarrass himself by falling. He shouted urgently.
"You lazy monkey shits! Quit rolling around and check if the cargo's intact!"
"Aye, sir!"
His furious roar spurred the crew to scramble back to their consoles, tapping furiously to assess damage.
"How the hell did we miss a ship right in front of us?"
"Uh, checking now, sir."
Vice Captain Stax rubbed his sore ass and worked the terminal. His expression turned strange.
"Captain."
"What?"
"You know Star Union ships detect energy flows like ghosts?"
"Of course."
"That ship's not emitting any electrical signals."
"What?"
The vice captain projected his readings onto the main display.
It was true. Milo was stunned.
"The hell? So that thing we nearly smashed into is a dead ship?"
"That's not all, sir. The signal we tracked is coming from it."
"..."
In other words, they'd just passed a ship with no functioning machinery—yet still broadcasting a biosignal. A walking contradiction.
'What kind of monkey-balls nonsense is this?'
As Milo and Stax puzzled over it, someone on the bridge muttered.
"G-Ghost ship..."
Milo scowled.
"Which monkey-fuck said that? Ghosts don't exist in space."
"C-Captain, you know what happened! The Dubara Cartel got wrecked by a ghost ship..."
A few months back, the Dubara Cartel—kings of C-08 sector—had vanished in a mystery incident.
Rumor had it their captain and vice captain went raiding as usual, encountered a ghost ship, and never returned.
"W-We may be pirates, but we can't fight ghosts!"
"We gotta run, now!"
Milo slammed his foot down hard. His print dented the reinforced metal plating, silencing the crew.
"Shut it. There are no ghost ships."
"Captain! But...!"
"Use your heads. C-08 is hundreds of light-years away. You think a ghost ship FTL'd all the way here?"
"I-It is a ghost ship..."
"Fuck off. Next you'll say ghosts fire plasma cannons and raise shields. Ridiculous."
Milo's calm demeanor steadied the pirates.
Seeing the fear fade from their eyes, he issued orders.
"We need to check that ship out. Stax, take a team and board it."
"Me?"
"Safer than sending those coward monkeys. You'll lead personally."
"..."
"Don't worry—I'll be watching the whole time."
"Tch. Aye."
Stax nodded reluctantly.
Whatever it was, capturing the ship meant profit outweighed risk. All cargo aboard became theirs.
'Wonder what's inside.'
Milo eyed the mystery vessel on the display as he dispatched the vice captain.
'They're here.'
I opened my eyes, sensing the approaching ship.
It had been a week since arriving in I-97 sector.
I'd spent it testing the functions of my assimilated vessel.
'FTL capability is a huge win.'
The biggest perk of assimilation: commandeering most of the target's functions like extensions of my body.
Beyond basic navigation, the light-speed engines handled FTL jumps effortlessly—burning residual ship energy instead of mine.
'Without that, sustaining the ship long-term would've been tough.'
No turrets to test, but cannon fire was probably feasible too.
'With plasma energy at my disposal, yeah.'
Another boon: reshaping the ship's structure at will.
'Like a nest tuned for my traits.'
Once assimilation finished, the ship became a living extension of me.
I could tweak its layout to deploy trait-based traps.
Spores launching rot mold from ceilings, floors morphing into ghost claw pits—you get the idea.
'Monster tentacles worked great too.'
That ship had been lured by the massive tentacles I'd grown inside, pulsing signals mimicking a Skywhale or Galleron.
Seems all upside, but drawbacks existed—like everything.
'Can't move while piloting it. Annoying.'
My carapace-spawned assimilation tendrils fused me to the ship, rooting me in place.
I could summon minions or twitch slightly, but full mobility? No dice.
Physical traits were locked too.
'If I could use them while assimilated, endless possibilities.'
Imagine wings on the hull for planetary flight, or biting other ships with jaw force and metal absorption to upgrade myself.
'Silver lining: I can spawn new tendrils even while linked.'
My core tendrils stay connected, but I can grow fresh ones on inner/outer hulls.
'Not that I can pilot two ships at once.'
Assimilation links my mind to the vessel.
Hard to confirm without testing, but assimilating anew while controlling this one? Probably impossible.
'Bummer, but the tendrils' specs are solid anyway.'
Even without bells and whistles, they're great for hunting and devouring foes.
'Mouths on them should let me extract gene essence too.'
No test subjects yet, but it seems viable.
'That ship's bigger than expected.'
Up close, its scale hit home—nearly triple my vessel's size.
Few Space Dogs ran anything that massive.
Top-tier cartels or smuggling specialists.
'Crew count says not elite cartel. Too few bodies.'
Smugglers, I'd bet. Serious ones.
'Well-equipped for smuggling, even some fighters aboard.'
Shape resembles a Star Union freighter or Mega Corp assault ship, but uncertain.
'Gotta board to know for sure.'
If right, prime upgrade material.
'Smugglers mean tasty cargo.'
Bonus: intel on smuggled beasts from the ship's computer.
Planetary wildlife spots, safe infiltration routes, etc.
'For Transcendence Stage 2, need wild animals beyond sapients anyway.'
Evolution from Near-Adult to Adult demands diverse animal genes too.
'Next destination's shaping up.'
First, seize that ship.
'Big, but...'
They were attempting docking.
Before welcoming guests, test controllability.
I focused, spawning assimilation tendrils on my hull.
A long docking port extended from their ship, clamping onto mine.
My tendril stealthily latched underneath.
A translucent prompt guided target selection.
'As expected. Can't assimilate while controlling this one.'
But I could check viability.
'Let's see.'
The tendril reported back post-scan.
'Controllable. Good news.'
A pirate ship three times larger was assimilable—huge win. But caveats attached.
Assimilation time: longer than this ship.
'Five hours to complete.'
Control duration: mere ten days.
'Bigger target, bigger energy drain.'
Stuff myself with energy first for long-term hold.
'Gotta play it smart.'
I retracted the tendril.
'Week's passed, so ditching this ship is fine.'
Low energy meant prep work post-switch.
'Hunt lightly, stockpile first.'
Devour the smugglers and their beasts inside for ample control energy.
Finish assimilation when ready—that ship'd be mine.
'But first, deal with the boarding party.'
A scout team crossed via the port. I weakened the hatch for easy entry.
Their voices echoed in my mind as the pirates entered.
This ship was my nest, my body—I sensed their words, actions, even vitals.
'Spacesuits on.'
Knowing it was a dead ship, they'd suited up. Armed to the teeth for emergencies, even packing bombs to scuttle if needed.
'Won't help them.'
Those weapons suited wild game, but what awaited wasn't mere beast.
Who'd guess the deck underfoot hunted them?
The group split to scour quickly.
'Perfect.'
Preemptively, I'd twisted the interior into a labyrinth.
'Traps galore too.'
I closed my eyes again.
One tangled passage led to my engine room lair.
Justin, oblivious, trudged toward it through the altered hall.
"Huh? This should be the engine room."
Justin, Ruthrak Cartel's engineer, knew ships inside out—Mega Corp, Star Union, no matter.
This liner was three decks, engines bottommost.
Stairs should've appeared by now, but only endless corridor stretched ahead.
"What the...?"
Not as huge as the Calvin, yet he'd walked far enough to cross it entirely.
'Something's off.'
Gut churning, he activated his suit comm.
"Vice Captain Stax?"
—Zzzt, wha, zzztzzzt, this is, zzztzzzt—
"Vice Captain?"
—Zzztzzzt, monster, zzztzzzt, retreat, zzztzzzt—
Nothing but garbled noise and eerie static.
"...N-Nah, probably nothing."
The Calvin loomed outside. Any trouble, they'd act fast.
Forcing calm, he pressed on.
His suit light pierced the black void—corridor swallowed even that.
Darkness. More darkness.
Then, a sound reached his ears.
"Kyarrurruruk."
"!"
He whipped around, startled.
The hall he'd traversed felt alien now. As if it'd rearranged while he walked.
"J-Just hearing things? Yeah, must be. Nothing else makes sense."
Muttering awkwardly, he advanced.
As his foot hit the deck—
"Kyahahaha."
"F-Fuck, who's there?!"
In vacuum, on a dead ship, he'd swear it was a little girl's laugh.
Suit or no, goosebumps exploded across his skin.
'M-Motion detector! Turn it on...!'
He yanked the device from his belt kit.
It pinged nearby movement on its radar.
Green light flared.
"Good... Huh?"
The readout made him doubt his eyes.
Signals swarmed his surroundings—everywhere.
"W-What's this?"
One right in front.
Horrified, he looked up—and met them.
Eyes glared from the entire corridor.
Purple-glowing orbs dotting black walls.
Justin screamed, locked in their gaze.
He bolted, fleeing those terrified stares.
A door appeared ahead.
Engine room hatch—never there before—beckoned.
Hallucination from terror? Or the ship's heart calling?
Justin couldn't tell who beckoned.
Desperate for guidance, it didn't matter.
He flung open the engine room door as summoned.