Retribution
Marco was in a room salon right now. Empty bottles and glasses from the drinks he'd just downed were scattered around. Next to them lay a thin syringe. He was high on drugs. Unable to hold himself up, he leaned against the expensive sofa, savoring the waves of pleasure crashing through his head. A floating sensation like his body was adrift in the air enveloped him, along with a bliss as if he'd entered paradise.
Then, a black silhouette appeared in that hallucination.
"Huh? It's Ian hyung. Haha, how've you been?"
Ian silently looked down at him. His long hair covered his face, making his expression hard to read.
"Explain yourself, Marco."
"Hahahaha. What, you want some too, hyung? Krkuk."
Marco burst into laughter. It filled the room uncontrollably, even against his own will. Ian immediately kicked him.
Thud!
"Looks like you need to snap out of it."
He approached the fallen man and stomped on him relentlessly. Until he came to his senses.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Only after Marco's face was torn open and bruises covered his body did he regain his wits.
"S-sorry! Hyung, stop!"
"Feeling more clear-headed now?"
Marco clutched his mangled face and stammered,
"Uh... since you're here—"
"Speak. Where's Leah? The mission payment?"
Ian shot him a chilling glare. It was a look no drugged-up Marco could withstand.
"I-I never planned to sell her out from the start! I just wanted to skim a little off the commission fee, but she wouldn't pay up! S-so I had no choice!"
"..."
"Here's 10 million bels. How's that?"
As Ian stared silently, Marco added in preemptive fear,
"Try to understand... hyung? We're comrades in the mercenary group. Sorry about the drugs. I tried to quit, but... they kept calling to me. Yeah! It was unavoidable!"
Marco pleaded desperately. But Ian's expression remained impassive. From start to finish.
"Where did you hand her off?"
"L-Leah? At the end of this street, there's a slave trader named Bashi. That's where—"
Ian drew the sword from his waist.
"Hyung! Ian hyung! W-wait a sec!"
Marco scrambled backward on his butt, begging.
"You betrayed us. You got involved in human trafficking and even harmed the client."
"Harmed the client? She didn't even pay! You're ditching me over that? For real? If the captain finds out!"
Marco babbled nonsense through his loose lips. Ian's deep, resonant voice cut him off.
"Bringing you in was the captain's call."
"Yeah! The captain—"
"You betrayed the captain. Even knowing her past."
"...... I'll tell the captain! I'll beg her. Please, hyung."
Marco had backed into the wall. No further retreat. Ian's sword tip hovered right before his nose.
"Of course. All of this is the captain's judgment. You've served well enough, Marco."
Ian's blade flashed once. Marco's arms detached from his body. The man, high just moments ago, couldn't react at all. Being a partial prosthetic, no blood spilled—only severed wires were exposed.
Whack! Ian struck the back of Marco's neck hard, knocking him out. He slung the limp body over his shoulder and strolled out of the salon.
Outside the salon, the Errant Mercenary Group waited in a side alley to greet Ian. Seriana asked first.
"Handled it okay?"
Ian dropped Marco to the ground in reply. Wires protruded from the severed arm stumps, sparking on contact with the pavement.
"Marco hyung... no, Marco really betrayed us?"
"Yes. I haven't killed him yet, though..."
"Good call. No need to get blood on our hands."
Roena added coolly, arms crossed.
"Plenty of others would handle him even if we didn't."
She stared at Marco for a long moment. Her insides felt like they were crumbling. The reason she'd started this mercenary life, so ill-suited to her nature—to find her kidnapped little brother, sold into slavery. But all she'd found was a cold corpse. Now she just wandered aimlessly. Marco was a comrade she'd met here. During a pioneering mission expansion request, she'd found him collapsed after a betrayal and couldn't just leave him. So Roena had recruited him herself.
And yet...
"Ha... Marco. I trusted you."
With that, the last shred of camaraderie vanished from her heart. They turned away. The street urchins of Sakar would take care of the rest. They'd strip his clothes and accessories, and armless, he couldn't resist. No evidence left behind.
"Slave trader named Bashi at the end of the street. That's where Leah is."
"Let's go."
They walked off without hesitation. Finding Bashi's slave shop was easy. The slums overflowed with penniless drifters. A few coins, and they spilled even unasked details.
In front of the building disguised as an ordinary warehouse, the Errant Mercenary Group huddled in discussion. Storming Bashi's slave operation was a given. But considering Leah's safety, a blind fight wasn't wise.
"Luca, can you hack the building?"
"It's a modern centralized-control setup. Possible, but... my current gear can't handle it."
Luca showed his tablet terminal. They hadn't geared up expecting combat, so armament was light. Roena and Seriana had only sidearm pistols for self-defense. Seriana fiddled with her cybernetic eye, voice tinged with regret.
"Better to gear up and come back. Bigger operation than expected."
"We don't know what might happen to Leah. Need to move fast."
"I'll go in first."
"You sure?"
"My gear's sufficient."
Ian revealed the 9mm pistol and black longsword at his waist.
"Optical camouflage in my combat suit lets me slip in without fighting."
Roena quickly decided, assigning roles as captain.
"Ian goes in first, secures Leah. Meanwhile, we gear up and follow."
"Round trip to the ship would take too long. It's too far."
"Buy from a nearby arms dealer. We got the advance today."
"I'll... provide drone support."
Non-combatant Luca chimed in. Roena forced a smile and ruffled his blond hair.
"Count on you."
"Then. Head in."
"Ian. Don't get hurt."
Ian said nothing and walked toward the building. Passing into the shadows, his combat suit's appearance gradually blended with the surroundings.
"Optical Camouflage."
He vanished from sight entirely. It manipulated electromagnetic waves themselves, evading even infrared detection. The rest moved to procure weapons.
--------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, Leah opened her eyes. A dark, cold space. Nothing visible. This prosthetic body lacked infrared vision. Sitting up, she felt a cold metal collar around her neck.
Clank. It was chained to the wall.
Judgment was swift.
'Sold me off. Into slavery.'
A chuckle escaped her.
"Heh heh heh."
Dare sell me? I'll kill you, Marco.
This treatment was a first. She'd lived on battlefields since childhood. Always overwhelming foes, and now, mere body swap and this humiliation.
She swept a hand over her face. Stay calm. Adjust the prosthetic first. Once adapted, this damn thing would move decently enough. No more getting caught off-guard by the likes of Marco.
She clenched a fist, feeling the sensation. Soon.
Observing her body like that, she recalled the breaking news from the TV earlier.
'Said I defected.'
She voiced it aloud.
"Traitor."
"Me."
A darker laugh welled up, but she didn't let it out. Eyes closed. Just repeated inwardly.
'Two possibilities. Either Favila got me... or the Empire betrayed me.'
Either way, she'd fallen into a bigger scheme. Now, not just body lost, but branded an imperial defector—a heinous criminal.
No money either.
"Krkukukuk."
Laughter bubbled up unbidden. But her eyes weren't smiling. They just stared into the dark.
"Cool your head, Lean. Think what you can do."
Withdrawal plan failed. Accessing imperial admin impossible. Claim she was Lean Primoor? Lunatic treatment or secret execution by the Imperial Guard.
Damn... What can I...
Somehow meet Kai. He's the only one who knows the situation. Meet him, turn this around.
And... little sister. No blood tie, but rescued dying on battlefield, nursed her, and affection grew... her only family. If he was branded traitor, she wouldn't be safe either...
'Trust Kai.'
In the darkness, she—she, or he—reorganized the plan once more. Blue eyes reignited in the gloom. Prosthetic adjustment complete. Overload cleared, stability flooded her body.
Lean bided her time. Adjustment done didn't mean superhuman strength. Daily prosthetic power still weak. After a while, footsteps approached. Light appeared from the far end. Stairs above—someone talking. Voices grew, becoming clear.
"Move her now? Already?"
"Yeah. You see that girl's looks? Killer."
"For real? How hot?"
"Smoking hot. Marco got 100 million bels selling her."
'Handy sum.'
100 million bels could buy a capital house on any planet. Voices louder.
"Yeah? I'll fetch her."
"Hey. No funny business. Not a scratch on her. Got it?"
"What do you take me for! Just wanna look."
Thud thud. Footsteps down the stairs, door opened. What she needed now: acting. Make him drop guard. Appearance set. Just behavior left.
She curled up, face like she might cry.
"Wh-where... is this?"
'Kuht. Humiliating.'
Ignoring the rising nausea, she pressed on.
"Krk, good place, kid. Gentlemen coming to pick you up soon."
He flicked on the room lights. Sudden brightness made her squint.
"Whoa, for real... top-tier. Marco hit the jackpot."
She cracked her eyes, sizing him up. About 180cm, no prosthetic. Armed with one pistol at waist. He approached, likely to unchain her.
"N-no, stay away!"
She huddled tighter, feigning. He reached for the restraint collar. As he tried lifting her—
In a flash, she grabbed from behind. Legs locked his waist, choking his neck.
"Told you not to come."
"Guhk! Kuk! Krhek."
Strength lacking. But controllable movement? Enough. She was Imperial Guard. Golden Dragon Unit captain, finest prosthetic manipulator. Unbeatable in old battlefields.
Crash clang! He thrashed wildly, shaking the room. But no escape. Soon, he went limp.
She snatched his gun and headed for the stairs.
"Hey! What're you doing!"
The one upstairs approached at the shout.
"Seriously, can't mess her up."
Grumbling, he descended. Oblivious to what awaited.
She hid by the stairs, waiting. As he reached bottom—
Bang! Light and sound erupted from her weapon. Bullet pierced his head clean.
Gunshot echoed. Now, just sweep the rest.
'Human trafficking's illegal under imperial law. Time to enforce it.'
A dead letter on the frontier. But now, a demon more eager than any descended slowly upward.