Chapter 102
Chapter 102
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: Life Extension Gambit
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"Not entirely impossible, apparently."
"Really...?"
Naphthal's eyes sparkled.
He knew full well what it meant to extend one's lifespan.
The world was full of rich people who'd do anything for just one more year of life.
"Because of that, I took some experimental measures on Junior, but the results are unknown. There's a 99% chance of side effects."
The mention of side effects made him lose interest just as quickly.
He gave up fast.
It really drove home how young Naphthal still was.
If he were from a generation that worried about aging, he wouldn't drop it so easily.
In any case, the risk of side effects was why I'd handed Junior back over.
The current head of the Herman family was 170 years old.
An age where death started feeling like a heavy shadow.
But his body was probably still in fine shape.
Especially for the head of Mutant Corp, leaders in biotech—he could easily boast vitality rivaling any athlete.
The problem was the brain.
In this era, the expected lifespan of 200 was exactly when the brain started failing.
No tech could fix that.
Whether regenerating neural tissue with stem cells or boosting performance with biochips, nothing stopped the brain's activity from declining.
Mutant Corp had found a solution in an alien species.
When it was time to die, the creature laid eggs, raised them, then killed its offspring right before death and transplanted its brain into the young one's head to extend its life.
The key was the mysterious fluid the parent secreted while the offspring grew.
This fluid protected the parent's brain and primed the offspring's body for the transplant.
Once the offspring matured and the parent's brain settled in, the fluid triggered some unknown effect that rejuvenated the brain.
Fascinated, Mutant Corp worked to uncover the secret.
But the alien specimens were few, and the all-important fluid couldn't be synthesized artificially, so progress crawled.
Worse, they failed to breed more of the aliens, so they used their data to create Junior.
Junior was their last resort.
No more test subjects left for further experiments.
Without proper clinical trials due to material shortages, this attempt became the trigger for a massive event in the original story.
The Herman head, possessing Junior's body, descends into madness.
Overwhelming murderous rage toward humans and an unnatural obsession with survival erode his judgment.
He leads the completed Nexters into chaos, clashing with the protagonist—that's the canon plot.
I wondered if Mutant Corp could still cause that much trouble now.
"You don't know about that?"
"...Who knows."
I cut my words short.
I'd satisfied his curiosity; no need for more details.
Naphthal glanced at me but didn't press.
'He's getting used to it now.'
He'd seen me profit from info no normal person should have a few times.
At first, he'd question it, but lately, he just brushes past.
Suits me fine—we both pretend not to notice.
"...Nngh!"
Naphthal rose from the sofa, stretching hugely.
Nearly eight hours slumped there without moving—his body had to be stiff.
"Hmm..."
I watched intently as he twisted through his stretches.
Something felt off since our last meeting—indefinable, but there.
Couldn't pin it down, so I kept staring.
He noticed and whipped his head around.
"What're you looking at?"
"Nothing, just..."
"Just?"
"Never mind."
"Hmm. Really?"
His sly, almost mocking smile made me furrow my brow.
'Something's definitely up...'
Couldn't find the cause, so I just rubbed my neck.
"Aw, lame."
"What're you talking about?"
"Nothing, bro!"
I scowled at his grinning face again.
What's with him lately?
*
I got leave.
Third-year academy cadets on provisional squads usually get no vacation for a full year—unspoken rule.
But for uncovering ironclad evidence against Mutant Corp, they skipped protocol and commissioned me as a full superhuman after just four months.
'One month starting tomorrow.'
Darmosa pulled strings for the long break.
A courtesy to prepare for running my independent unit during leave.
If the front lines were more urgent, no way—but luck was on my side.
The new defensive line in Triple Link sector was stabilizing.
Refugee relocation over 60% done eased the load, and the intense alien assaults had tapered off lately.
'A lull. Should be quiet for a bit.'
Inside the Alliance, it was hailed as safely passing a danger zone.
The Mutant Corp scandal had blown up, but the security tribunal reversal actually boosted humanity's influence.
Even with hidden threats everywhere, we could relax a little.
My mind felt peaceful for once.
No more constant invisible pressure—relaxation flowed naturally.
But one person wouldn't let my guard down.
"What're you doing?"
"...Resting?"
Roze.
She was still shadowing me as bodyguard, insisting Mutant Corp wasn't fully crushed.
I had approved it, of course.
Darmosa wouldn't hand her over easily, but compared to my contributions, he'd done zilch—had to bend.
'Not sure about keeping her long-term, though.'
Her outfit stood out.
Not combat uniform—training gear.
"No other plans today?"
Her tone said she'd come locked and loaded.
I'd planned to ride the refugee transport to New Eden tomorrow, but nope.
"Uh..."
"Then let's train."
I jumped up fast.
Better take the beating early—dragging feet just prolongs the pain.
I'd skipped self-training lately, using busyness as excuse.
Most time went to sorting MC data for the lab and handling Darmosa's indirect tasks via Tana.
As a newbie, I'd been pulled for odd jobs too.
Not an excuse—truth.
'Still, needed adjustment anyway.'
I was in loading phase to leverage my new bio-metal bone trait.
Couldn't get ideal metals yet, so first pass: bulk-load accessible high-effect ones to max tolerance.
Body weight up over 10kg.
Second load would push 20kg more.
Bone changes triggered delayed muscle growth, so I felt heavy lately.
Roze clocked it just by looking.
"Lemon, you're sluggish."
"Am I?"
"Yeah, definitely! Center of gravity's off. What've you been up to these past days?"
That explained her disapproving stares yesterday and the day before.
I mumbled an excuse and got into stance.
Figured I'd spar before explaining.
"Gah...!"
Crash!!
Got wrecked worse than expected.
'This isn't right...?'
After a thorough thrashing, I sprawled on the ground, gasping.
Even uncomfortable, my physical specs had risen—thought it'd close the gap, but felt wider.
"Total mess!"
Roze yelled.
No defense, just groaned.
'Bad thinking.'
Just boosting raw power wouldn't cut it.
Balance is everything for a martial artist.
Best body in the world means squat if you can't control it.
I was worse than pre-trait now.
Overlooking that for optimism? Disqualifying.
"What'd you do to your body?"
"...Ngh, well."
I came clean about the new trait.
She listened rapt—intriguing stuff.
But her first words after? Wild.
"Something that good? I want it too."
Her sparkling eyes made it seem like she was eyeing me hungrily.
Then her giggle suggested teasing.
I forced a laugh, then a thought hit.
'Wait...?'
No need to rule it out.
This trait could be implanted without abilities.
Mutant Corp proved the potential.
All their research was in my hands now.
I'd extracted alien data with my power—maybe apply it with their tech alone.
'Let the researchers handle it.'
The captured Mutant Corp researchers from the secret lab raid came to mind.
Most handed to Alliance, but I'd recruited a few key ones like the head researcher from Utah City.
They figured Mutant Corp was doomed anyway, and fearing death, begged for protection.
I welcomed it.
Slave-bound elites, all senior researcher level—priceless.
Ethics? Sketchy work history, but tools are tools.
"This won't do. Balance first."
Roze brushed off her comment like idle talk, shifting gears.
I hauled myself up at her gesture.
Body wouldn't obey after so long without a beating.
"Keep dawdling, and I'll yank your red band!"
"...No, not that."
Shot up like a rocket.
Roze swung without pause.
"Here we go."
Mercy this time—adjusting to my level, not full assault.
I dodged and countered with all I had.
She warily guarded my left arm, trading blows.
Occasional solid hits from me—she didn't flinch.
"Definitely landed that...!"
"Tickles!"
"...Urk!!"
Paid for it tumbling again.
'Too damn tough!'
That was near full power.
Her casually absorbing it head-on drained my morale.
'Only artillery for real damage?'
I twitched my left arm, then stopped.
Range couldn't handle blasts.
Minimizing wall impacts already—miss one, disaster.
'Does she even need more research...?'
In a few years, she'd solo a massive hatchery hive, smash endless aliens, destroy the core.
Fleet-level feat, solo.
Need to amp her further?
I dazedly watched Roze prod my waist, urging me up.
She looked annoyingly smug.