Let's Talk
I'd been sending out signals for a good long while. Subjectively, maybe three hours? The sun, which had been beating down so fiercely, had finally eased up a bit.
Of course, the average temperature had climbed even higher. The sun's hottest point is noon, but it takes time for the surface to heat up from all that solar fury. As a result, the hottest time of day is actually around 2 to 3 p.m.!
I'm not particularly heat-sensitive, so no issues there. I just figured about three hours had passed since it got even hotter!
One piece of good news, though.
The outlines of the ant tunnels dug by the Linkers were finally mapping out in my mind. The range covered every inch of visible ground! Or more precisely, the underground spaces beneath it.
This meant preparations were complete. All I had to do was send a jolt of that crackling electricity, and done.
Sparks crackled from the tips of my tentacles. If I stabbed them with metal chopsticks right now, they'd probably come out medium-rare?
Though it'd be different from your standard medium-rare. Just a light sear all over, that's all.
Ah, or maybe "undercooked" is the better term?
Anyway.
I kept pumping out the electricity, but no response from the Linkers.
I'd love for them to pick up on my signals, but honestly, living things tend to be oblivious to their own actions, right?
Even ticklish people can't tickle themselves. Sure, touching sensitive spots might feel a little itchy, but not enough to make you spasm.
My signals were the same. They could sense the ones I was emitting from underground, but who knows how the Linker horde perceived them.
Given the total lack of reaction so far, the plan looked like a bust.
· · · · · · What a waste. Time to head back and resume my diligent duties as Inspector Nera.
I lifted my heavy butt, which I'd parked here for ages. Though is there anything lighter than my perfect rear?
From the distance came the familiar rumble of military vehicles.
Military vehicles? What were they doing here?
They'd said the sweep of distant sectors wouldn't start until at least tomorrow.
No good. Better scram before they spot me.
Nothing fun happened today anyway—wasting time playing with annoying Executors would just burn the whole day.
I crouched back down. Strutting around openly would catch their eyes immediately.
I stabbed my tentacles into the ground and burrowed in. But just as I was about to dive deeper, a rumbling vibration hit me.
Too irregular for a vehicle engine, and way too far for the vibes to reach here anyway.
Hmm. Looks like my Reverse Escape op was a success after all.
But now what? I don't know who these Executors are, but are they really party material?
-Boom!
As the saying goes, seeing is believing—and they proved their chops.
In the most absurd way possible!
My tentacles, digging underground, froze solid white.
No, my precious tentacles!
Fine, they proved their power, but do these Executors not know basic manners? Sure, there's a cultural gap between inside and outside the Sector, but shooting at a stranger on first sight? What kind of welcome is that?
Keep that up, and you'll get divine retribution from the heavens!
-Thud!
Shockingly, the retribution surged up from below.
It flipped the bad Executors' military vehicle right over.
It rolled and tumbled several times, and all the while, the Linker horde kept popping out nonstop.
Every time that poor thing crumpled, my heart crumpled too.
I had to avenge my tentacles and that vehicle!
Go! Attack those rotten Executors now!
The Cadavers got my command perfectly and spotted me, freaking out as they bolted. Their moves were like a fresh private dodging the drill sergeant.
My view started clouding over in seconds. Dust clouds billowing everywhere.
With the parched earth and 3-meter-average Cadaver horde charging wildly, it was inevitable.
The Cadavers rushed en masse, but no roar of fierce battle came back.
No, they're just fleeing again like last time. Not deaf to genius—just deaf, period · · · · · ·!
Cadavers should love Executor meat the most in the world! Frail things packed with P.V. Virus—high-calorie grub from a Cadaver's view.
Why abandon their predatory instincts for some ordinary creature's life? Beats me.
Fine. If the Linkers forgot their true nature, I'll remind them · · · · · ·!
Full stop, everyone.
I blasted a powerful signal. The Linker horde, fleeing in perfect sync, froze in place.
Now came the crucial part. How to awaken their instincts?
If only I had a parasite Cadaver like some mad scientist— one word, and it'd unlock instincts they didn't even know they had.
Let me think.
What are Linkers, really? Cadavers that evolved a bit oddly.
Instead of eyes, nose, mouth, they grew special organs to sense signals.
Linkers read special electromagnetic waves via these resonance organs. That's the so-called Cadaver signal.
Regular Cadavers can't emit signals themselves, let alone read them.
But it doesn't matter. Linkers emit signals, regular Cadavers reflect them without realizing—and that's detected.
Like a sensor's principle. Linkers interpret the emitted waves and their reflections. Human tech just mechanized it.
But get this.
They've got these superior resonance organs, yet can't do long-range comms? Seems unfair. With Cadaver evolution speed, high intelligence should be easy—yet no language system? Such a shame.
Sharp fangs. Grotesque bulging veins. Pathetically twisted faces.
Does being born ugly justify discrimination?
I say no.
All the Cadavers before me looked like pitiful sentient beings.
They were ascetics, enduring the punishment of survival in this brutal world!
And from now on, I'm their messiah.
Like Prometheus stealing fire from Olympus out of love for humanity. I'll deliver a basic language system to these unenlightened Linkers.
-Crackle, crackle.
My tangled tentacles formed a bizarre bio-organ. Existing ones had limits for complex signals.
I loaded the signal with layers of meaning.
If we'd started with sounds, it'd take ages.
But Linkers already have their signal system—unlike other Cadavers.
Previous signals touted how strong and superior I was. Now, I'll twist that system to carry meaning.
Left one step! Right one step!
Regrettably, no Cadavers followed at first. Many panicked at the sudden weird signals.
But gradually, their movements unified. They started moving in organized tandem with my thoughts!
My theory worked. Cadavers were just blinded by predation frenzy. Give 'em a sliver of learning time, and communication happens fast!
This was historic. I'd go down as humanity's first Inspector to talk with Cadavers.
The dust settled, revealing the very, very low-quality Executors before me.
Minus Nova-chan, that is.
I sent my splendid comrades a simple word.
“Prey.”
No need to say it aloud. This was consideration for the Executors.
With Cadavers halting their flight and milling about, they'd stare at us with curious eyes, right?
-Kyaaaaaaaah!
A wolfish howl erupted in chorus.
One Cadaver's screech kicked it off, and every surrounding one joined in.
Second historic moment of the day.
If only someone had a camera.
It could've been a textbook photo: "Our First Unity."
"Activation index rising. Average 0.2."
"· · · · · · Is that what it is?"
Huh, weird. I didn't order that. Well, not an order—communication.
Let's talk, folks.
Cadavers clearly love meat too. Starved for days, excited for a feast—activation spiked.
Executors' indices rise with emotions too. Nothing surprising; it's the same deal!
"Looks like we'll have to clear every Cadaver here to reach it."
"Simple enough!"
-Clang, clang!
Lira's Sky Piercer gauntlets smashed together fiercely.
Nova's Quorbit orbs began glowing intensely too.
The party was about to begin.