Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Return to York
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I ended up nodding with the mindset of seeing it through to the end.
'No matter how busy I get, I'll still have time to sleep.'
I'd already grown numb to excessive workloads back in my academy days.
Even then, I rarely got more than an hour of sleep a day.
"Alright. Then I'll explain, so listen carefully."
With my okay, Fontana pulled up a chair and sat beside me as if she'd been waiting, flipping the documents back to the first page.
She pointed out each note I'd added, explaining in detail exactly how to proceed.
"It's good as it is right now..."
Her words sounded like praise, but listening closely, they weren't.
Half of my annotations got dismissed as too indulgent, only worth a look for fun.
The rest she evaluated by adding her own thoughts as she went along, and it all stuck in my mind so easily.
She didn't seem to think deeply, yet she transformed my ideas into something more novel and practical.
I was struck once again by the fact that Fontana was undoubtedly a genius.
"There, that's up to here. You did really well. Still, try not to just pour out ideas recklessly—get into the habit of connecting them to what you've learned so far, and it'll be even better."
"Yes..."
"Haha, looking forward to working with you more, boss? This research is going to be fun."
*
I went to check on the research progress and somehow ended up with more work dumped on me.
I left R3D3 behind at the lab on my way out.
Upgrading it would take over a week, and with my schedule, I couldn't afford to wait.
I'd swing by later to pick it up once I reported back.
"There. Looks good?"
"...Yeah, thanks."
Roze dusted off her hands and stepped back.
I examined the bandage wrapped meticulously around my left arm, then clenched and unclenched my fist.
Unlike when I did it myself, it felt almost comfortable.
The tattoo that had been bothering me was completely hidden too.
"But why hide it? I thought it looked fine."
"Just... you know."
I didn't have a good explanation.
I didn't even know why myself.
It just bugged me too much to let others see it.
'Did I always hate tattoos this much...?'
The tattoo crammed from my shoulder to my fingertips was pretty extreme, even for ink.
Its design was a bit grotesque too.
Long sleeves hid everything but my hand, but this felt the most reassuring.
"No need to explain. Just let me know next time."
"Yeah."
Roze hopped up at my response and flopped onto the sofa.
"...Ugh, this is so boring."
I smiled faintly.
Except for when we escaped the Triple Link region, we'd been stuck in top-grade cabins, but it still wasn't enough room to move freely.
To Roze, it probably felt like a prison.
"Just 17 more hours and we'll be there."
"That's still forever..."
"Hang in there a bit longer. Once we get past this, we won't have to take regular liners again."
Our destination was the planet housing the Monarch family's homeworld.
It was also where the Monarchru Dock Station's shipyards were located, making it the planet under the strongest Monarch influence.
"I've never been to a shipyard before. Are there lots of big spaceships there?"
Roze suddenly perked up and asked, eyes sparkling.
But given Monarchru Dock Station's current capabilities, it probably wouldn't live up to her expectations—not like it used to, anyway.
'...Or maybe not entirely?'
Ships needing advanced tech and facilities, or ones that were just hard to scale up, sure—but for standard merchant vessels, they could still build plenty of large ones.
Plus, there'd be special-purpose ships you wouldn't see elsewhere, so it should satisfy her eyes.
"I hope Lemon's ship is big too."
"Why?"
"...The bigger, the better?"
"How big?"
"As big as our dorm ship."
"You mean Valhalla?"
"Yeah."
Valhalla was the Central Superhuman Unit's flagship.
At 250,000 tons, it was the heaviest battleship in existence—a Behemoth-class monster.
No way a bare-minimum Shilla-class could compete.
"It'll be smaller than that."
"...A lot?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm, still okay though."
Roze muttered something like she'd made up her mind, then dozed off right there on the sofa.
'...Tired, huh?'
I draped a blanket over her and sat nearby, loading the research docs.
York Planet—the Monarch family's homeworld and Lemon's birthplace—was right around the corner.
*
York Planet was discovered early in the space pioneering era: clean water, fresh air.
No standout resources, but its proximity to Earth brought plenty of benefits, making it fairly developed.
For the Monarch family searching for a new nest back then, York must've seemed like a solid choice.
Of course, that also meant fierce competition from other powers who staked claims there.
Migrating to the Monarch star system was probably a deliberate move.
"...Nice."
I popped out of the AD Drive and quietly took in the sight of York Planet.
A deep blue hue covered most of it, with white clouds swirling across.
York had vast oceans and high humidity, so rain was frequent.
Some areas had long rainy seasons, leading to cities built under massive domes.
-Destination arrived. Passengers aboard, please...
I stepped out as the cabin announcement echoed.
Down at the space station, I scanned the surroundings.
"They should be waiting here."
"Who, find them?"
"Someone's picking us up."
Right then, a man approached—older, face familiar.
"Eric?"
"Long time no see, Leonard Monarch."
Eric, Orlando Monarch's attendant.
I'd run into him twice before, always with Orlando, so he'd come personally.
"Yes, it's been a while. Almost two years now, right?"
"Time flies. And this must be Superhuman Roze?"
"Oh, hi."
"An honor to meet you. This way—transport's ready."
I remembered his first impression wasn't great.
'He didn't think much of me back then.'
More precisely, he hadn't thought highly of the original Lemon.
But his demeanor now was impeccably polite.
Roze and I followed Eric's lead.
"Whoa..."
Roze let out a soft gasp at the waiting spaceship.
I couldn't look away either.
Sleek hull lines, painted in interlocking shades of blue—it screamed luxury at a glance.
Eric noticed our reactions and spoke up.
"That's Blue Velvet, one of the family's royal lineup. Popular with individual clients who want mid-sized comfort."
"Seats about 20?"
"Optimal capacity is six. Plenty of space for passenger convenience."
Six for that size was sparse.
Whatever they'd packed in, user amenities were clearly over-the-top.
'I want one.'
I swallowed hard.
Ever since losing my personal ship, nothing had caught my eye—until this.
Boarding only intensified the greed.
Spacious yet cozy interior, tastefully ornate decor.
Well-balanced.
The cockpit impressed too.
Wide field of view, top-tier assist systems—clearly well-engineered.
"Will you pilot yourself?"
"Of course."
I nodded eagerly and slid into the pilot seat.
Destination was pre-loaded—no questions needed.
I fiddled around, testing performance, then fired up the engines.
'Feels hefty, as expected from the size.'
High-maneuver stuff like my old ship? Mostly out of the question.
Though comparing it to my sportscar-like personal craft wasn't fair.
I ramped up speed, set course, and took off.
'This has its own charm.'
Heavy yet agile.
Top speed rivaled my old one.
Assists made flying effortless.
Glancing at the nav, I asked,
"Destination's set to the shipyard?"
"Yes. Evening gathering's later, so we scheduled a stop by your anchored battleship first."
"Got it."
Evening gathering.
Probably packed with direct Monarch family members.
What face should I put on for them?
Acting like the original Lemon—who hated the homeworld folks—would be trouble.
'It's totally different now.'
The key difference: direct lineage or not.
I'd been treated as a side branch originally.
Orlando Monarch being my blood father didn't matter.
Monarchs didn't judge solely by blood.
Even direct heirs got sidelined as side branch if they underperformed.
Lemon, despite the odd seed, wouldn't have if she'd excelled.
'She fell short.'
Switching to top academy grades and achievements flipped treatment overnight.
Plus, trading Salmon Lab shares for Monarchru Dock Station equity—the family's true core—made me undeniably direct line now.
Time to reset relations with the homeworld crew.
"Raphael attending?"
"Of course. He's been counting the days for you, Leonard."
I almost believed it, then remembered: the one I'd seen before was Nabiel, not Raphael.
'Right...'
Last sighting was with Orlando, so yeah—nearly two years since facing Raphael directly, same as Eric.
Still, "counting the days" was a stretch.
Those kids treated everyone but us as business.
"Good to hear."
Either way, keeping friendly ties was smart.
With Raphael in my corner, no one at homeworld could touch me.
The ones opposing him? With the tide turned, they'd think twice now.
"There it is."
Eric pointed ahead.
York had two shipyards: surface and orbital.
The surface one was small due to the humid climate, handling small personal ships or atmospheric flyers. Major facilities orbited.
Battleship docks were next to the orbital yard, naturally.
"...Huge."
The shipyard was massive.
It loomed larger as we approached, but even close, it stretched far.
"Over three million personnel stationed here at all times."
"Three million?"
"Yes. Think of it as a giant city."
Roze's jaw dropped as she nodded.
"It used to be about five times bigger—before that incident shrank it."
"Five times this? Whoa."
"I can still picture it."
Eric reminisced.
That's when I gauged his age.
Equipment moved to Monarch system about 140 years ago—he had to be older.
I eased speed, drifting closer.
The yard buzzed.
Workers on machines hustled across blocks; transports shuttled materials nonstop.