Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: Flesh Guardian
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The passage leading to the hatchery was built extremely wide.
Giant specimens usually hatched from eggs close to the core, and the one blocking our path was big enough to fill that wide passage completely.
"Don't go near it. It'll eat you!"
The mercenary captain immediately recognized the Flesh Guardian and warned those around him.
He came over to my side.
"This is a problem. Of all things, that guy's blocking the way."
"Do you have any usable weapons among what you brought?"
"We have a few, but they won't pack enough firepower to work on that thing."
I looked at the Flesh Guardian.
It was a grotesque alien that was hard to even call a creature.
Describing it as a kind of defensive structure was the closest fit, but its body surface was covered in a sticky, jelly-like substance that gave it strong resistance to physical impacts.
Naturally, it was a tough opponent for us, a group made up entirely of physical fighters.
It was normally invisible from the outside and only spotted inside hatcheries, which was why it had earned the nickname "Guardian."
"Eek..."
Roze wrinkled her nose, probably grossed out by the Flesh Guardian's hideous appearance.
Even she would hesitate to swing her fists at something like that.
"Get ready for now."
"Got it."
The mercenary captain nodded and gave orders to his mercenaries.
I glanced at the bandage wrapped around my left arm for a moment, then untied the knot and took it off.
"...You're using it?"
"Yeah. Tie it back on for me later."
I rolled up the bandage, pocketed it, and drew power from my core weapon.
The Flesh Guardian was indeed a creepy specimen, but it was also extremely passive, so it wasn't that hard of an opponent if you had sufficient firepower to back you up.
'The issue is how hard I need to hit it...'
This place was underground.
Even if it was a hatchery site, blindly unleashing powerful firepower could risk a collapse.
"Where should we aim?"
"It doesn't have any real weak points, so blast the center. Captain. We're ready over here."
"Start whenever. We'll follow your lead."
The mercenary captain's eyes flicked over my arm.
Even though it looked slightly grotesque from the mutation, his face showed no sign of it.
"Fire!"
"...Eat this!"
With a thud, dozens of round orbs shot from the portable launchers the mercenaries were aiming straight at the Flesh Guardian.
Pzzt-zzt-zzt!
The orbs detonated in flashes, unleashing plasma all at once.
The Flesh Guardian writhed and let out a screech as the powerful directed plasma energy pierced its body.
'There...!'
Peering through the bright light, I spotted the exposed innards from the explosion and thrust out my left hand, firing a crimson blast.
I watched the condensed crimson blast hit the Flesh Guardian dead center and shouted.
"Duck!"
Boom!!
"Uwaaah!"
The shockwave spread in an instant, sweeping over us.
Even with the output dialed back, the confined space amplified the explosive force.
Most of the mercenaries who didn't react in time were sent tumbling head over heels by the blast.
They were all wearing bio-armor suits, so no major injuries, but they'd definitely feel their guts shaken up.
"Whew..."
The mercenary captain waved his hand to clear the thick dust.
"Ah, you okay?"
"No injuries. By the way, Captain, I thought you were a martial artist, but you're a psyker, huh."
He tilted his head toward the Flesh Guardian as he asked.
I was a psyker, but the crimson blast itself wasn't a psychic power.
Not wanting to deny it outright, I just nodded.
"The path's open. Let's go."
"Quit whining and get up!"
I moved forward as the mercenary captain scolded his men.
Steam was rising from my left arm from the heat of the energy conversion.
If R3D3 were here, it could cool it right away, but for now, all I could do was wait for it to settle naturally.
I reverted my arm to normal and took a swig from my canteen.
"...Hot."
Soon the dust settled enough for visibility to clear.
Fragments of the shattered Flesh Guardian were plastered all over the passage walls.
"Captain, can your team extract the core?"
"If we can't even do that, we'd have to shut down the company."
"Give us ten minutes, and we'll have it prettily extracted and ready for you!"
The last part came from one of the mercenaries, not the captain.
'Flint, was it?'
He was one of the squad leaders who'd kept his balance during the explosion earlier.
Long face with a grinning look, he was a crewman who wielded a straight, thick scimitar as his main weapon.
"Hold this position until the explosives are set!"
To eliminate the hatchery, we especially needed to blow this spot to smithereens.
The manuals were full of cases where teams had cleared the core only for poor cleanup to let the hatchery revive and cause serious damage.
"Roze, watch this for a sec."
"Yeah, got it."
Roze nodded, immediately catching my glance.
I approached the juvenile fluid of the Monkey Hound growing inside an egg.
'Is this the only one to check?'
Excluding the Monkey Hound, everything else was stuff I'd encountered before.
After enlisting as a superhuman and hopping battlefields, I'd checked a few more alien types, but so far, all duds.
I'd set my standards high myself, so I hadn't found anything worthwhile.
If not for the 'Biometal Bones' trait from the secret lab last time, I'd have been pretty disappointed.
Information analysis on a Level-2 threat didn't take long.
[Monkey Feet]
Your toes elongate, improving foot agility and flexibility. However, durability and support weaken, making balance easy to lose.
[Hidden Fangs]
To never let go of bitten targets, numerous fangs protrude inward from the teeth. But if you're not careful, you'll easily wound your own tongue.
'Why is everything so meh.'
I checked a few traits, but none really appealed.
They all demanded penalties as trade-offs.
I analyzed a bit more to see if anything was partially applicable, then gave up.
Total dud.
'Can I connect to the Flesh Guardian?'
I pulled my hand from the Monkey Hound juvenile and headed to the passage guarded by the mercenaries.
Its body was blown to bits, but being amoeba-like, who knew if a hunk of its lower body was enough to do something.
Ignoring the mercenaries' puzzled stares at my actions, I tried connecting.
'It works.'
The data was a bit garbled from the damage, but I could definitely connect.
Taking the damage into account, I stored multiple data terminals and began analysis.
As expected, the Flesh Guardian's data volume matched Level-4.
But midway through, something felt off.
'This one wasn't produced here?'
Flesh Guardians could be produced starting from Phase-3 hatcheries, sure.
But due to their power and size demanding massive resources, you usually didn't see them until Phase-4.
I'd thought it odd to find one here, and now it turned out it was from a completely different hatchery.
I spotted it in the genetic info.
Common, standardized alien species were built on the same base data, but each still carried unique fingerprints from their production hatchery.
This one clearly had different fingerprints from the Monkey Hound I'd checked first.
'Analyze first.'
No time to spare, so I pushed thoughts aside and checked for applicable traits.
But its form was so unlike a human's that it was hard to find any.
No big surprise there, so I kept at it without disappointment—then, as if the heavens were moved by my effort, a gift dropped.
-Super Lymphocytes
Flesh Guardians absorb massive toxins while breaking down and absorbing prey. To counter this, the lymphocytes central to their immune response are specially developed.
Hematopoietic stem cells mature into lymphocytes faster, and lymphocyte memory improves.
A stronger immune system is always welcome.
No massive immediate effects, but a nice little helper trait.
Plus, it barely affected the 'vessel' by my standards, which made it even better.
'No more worries about getting sick from now on.'
Superhumans didn't get sick? Wrong—they just got sick less.
I already had a body resistant to disease thanks to various traits, but now with boosted immunity, sickness was basically a non-issue.
Not just that—extra resistance to nerve agents and biochemical weapons too. Plenty satisfying.
"Lemon!"
As I opened my eyes, Roze—who'd been staring right at me—called out suddenly.
Looking around, the retreat prep was nearly done.
"Aliens?"
"Their numbers rushing in have dropped a lot."
Hatcheries have command over the aliens they produce.
That command lasts as long as the core does, so with the core extracted, the command was gone, and the aliens had lost their instinct to protect it.
'S retreat right away?'
Normally, we'd set explosives in the other hatcheries and key facilities before pulling out.
But with new info from the Flesh Guardian, I hesitated.
"Captain. What now?"
"...Let's look around a bit more."
"Looking for something?"
"Yeah. Something's bugging me; need to check it. Hold off on explosives for now."
The mercenary captain nodded and rallied his team again.
I took the chance to ask Roze.
"Not hungry?"
"...Kinda? Ate a gel pack."
"You hate those."
"Got used to 'em after a while. Still no taste."
No matter how much you hate them, chaining battles nonstop leaves no time for proper meals, so you end up eating them anyway.
That's the gel rations issued for combat.
"Guess I'll eat this myself then."
"...Huh?"
Roze's eyes went wide at the snack I pulled out.
The compressed chocolate bars I'd given her a few times before.
Custom-ordered from a famous confectionery—compressed so a bit hard, but one bite unleashes a deep, intense sweetness that hits the tongue hard.
Worlds apart from nutrition-packed, flavorless gels.
Roze looked on the verge of tears as the chocolate went into my mouth.
"...T-tasty?"
"Want one?"
"Yes!"
She nodded like crazy while answering.
I quickly unwrapped another and handed it over before drool hit.
The tough bar vanished into her mouth like melting snow.
I uncapped her canteen and said.
"Eat slow. Wash it down with water."
"Munch munch munch."
Just then, the mercenary captain approached, gear ready.
"Sorry, ate without thinking of your crew."
"Don't worry. We're used to snacking on the fly."
"Good. Might take longer, so eat up hearty."
"I'll let 'em know."
From there, we started a more thorough search, beginning with the surrounding hatcheries.
Their meticulousness stood out during the search.
Mercenaries had that freewheeling vibe, so I'd worried a bit, but on ops, they didn't slack on their duties at all.
They even seemed superior to soldiers in proactivity.
'Looks solid after all.'
They'd officially join post-incident, but prelim eval was already perfect.
You don't find combat crew this good anywhere.
Top-tier basics already; upgrade their gear, and it'd be like having special forces per member.
'Tactical training too, probably.'
I reviewed future plans while focusing on the search.
As we pushed outward, one mercenary called me over.
Following the tactical goggles' markers, Flint was checking a tunnel.
"This, this is weird."
I instantly saw why Flint thought so.
The passage leading outward from the storage entrance was the same size as the one near the core.