Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Fontana Unte
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I examined her again.
The strange reaction in my body from moments ago had vanished, as if it had all been my imagination.
"Father and the elders back home were delighted by your exploits."
"So?"
"I only hope you'll keep striving like you are now."
As if.
They were probably thrown off by the sudden change in circumstances.
Achieving top grades at the Academy was a massive deal across the entire Human Alliance, signaling that I'd become a figure of immense influence after graduation.
For someone from the family who they'd barely paid any mind to suddenly rise to prominence?
They must have realized it was time to redefine our relationship.
And of course, planting a positive image now would only benefit them.
'Easier said than done.'
But Leonard Monarch had been practically discarded by the family until now.
Sending Oland Monarch, the one with the most prior contact, was praiseworthy, but it was hard to believe they had high expectations.
"Pleasant words."
"It's the truth."
Anyway, the key point here was this:
I was currently a member of the Monarch family.
As long as I was in Lemon's body, bearing the Monarch name, I was inevitably tied to them.
If I succeeded, the Monarch family would indirectly benefit somehow. Conversely, as my influence grew, they'd find it impossible to escape my sway.
An inseparable bond.
But was that entirely a bad thing?
Far from it.
"But is that really all you called me out here for?"
I shrugged my right shoulder slightly as I asked.
Time to get to the main point.
"Of course not. Do you think we'd just sit back and watch while a scion of Monarch shines so brightly?"
"So that means...?"
"The main family has promised support. Tell me what you need."
Yes, this was it.
A family with deep history and tradition moved quickly.
"Perfect."
I nodded without hesitation.
Deals like this were always welcome.
***
I extracted far more support than I'd asked for.
Oland Monarch never once shook her head at my requests.
It was almost disconcerting.
I'd have to yield more in return for what I gained, but compared to the haul, I'd concede as many times as needed.
That's why her response stuck with me when I unwittingly asked if it was really okay.
'Something like, "I stake my name on it," right...?'
The Oland Monarch I'd met face-to-face was a bit enigmatic, unlike Lemon's memories.
Anyway.
This guy's memories were worthless.
I felt embarrassed recalling how I'd grumbled, tainted by Lemon's recollections.
Even though it had been two weeks already.
I rose from the bunk and headed to the controls.
[Estimated time to arrival: 00:58:29]
After three days of flight, we were nearly at the final destination of this outing.
'Even space gets old after three days.'
It had been novel at first, but the unchanging scenery dulled the thrill.
Truly, even the best things are savored in moderation—eaten occasionally for taste, viewed sparingly for wonder.
I reviewed what needed doing this time.
'Fontana Unte.'
A scientist.
A pioneering figure in modern automated combat machinery, renowned as a weapons developer.
But with the advent of neural parasites that infected AI sensors, the utility of automated combat machines plummeted, leading to his sharp decline.
Of course, a mind like his wouldn't crumble so easily.
He poured every resource he could muster into research to prove he wasn't wrong.
Yet his countermeasures merely maintained the status quo, and even those lagged behind the Aliens' evolution.
In the end, he wound up buried in debt.
Afterward, Fontana Unte spent 30 years working unpaid at a military lab to repay it, then vanished after rejecting every scouting offer.
'...Or so it's known.'
But Fontana Unte's determination went beyond that.
What good was becoming a lab director if he couldn't pursue his desired research?
He'd set up his own private lab on this remote planet and continued his work.
'Far out.'
Six days from here to the Terra planet where the Academy was located.
Even optimizing the route, I'd barely met the deadline.
Still, Fontana Unte was worth it.
Why?
If the Miracle Generation 5 dominated the realm of martial prowess, he was one of the geniuses created to rival them in other fields.
'This the place...?'
The building looked rundown at first glance.
Broken windows and thick moss on the outer walls made it seem abandoned.
Without the report from the commission, I'd have bought it completely.
"Anyone here?"
I opened the door—its upper half shattered, offering a clear view inside—and stepped in.
The interior remained eerily silent.
Did he not know?
No, given Fontana Unte's paranoid meticulousness, he couldn't be unaware of a visitor to his hideout.
He was surely watching.
I explored the interior like I was in a horror game.
After a short walk, I found a passage leading underground.
As the intel indicated, this was the real entrance.
I tensed my body lightly and descended the stairs.
At that instant, something sharp slashed at my head.
Clang!
I struck the side of what resembled a guillotine blade.
I'd put enough force into it, but it didn't shatter—only a fist imprint formed.
'Tough.'
A few more exchanges followed.
The trap was a combat machine armed with blades on both arms.
On par with something that could lightly tear apart an Armor Spider.
I didn't know its combat sense, but it could tangle with a Grade 2 threat like a Blade Bee.
"Not bad."
As I said that, its joints detached, firing a small missile point-blank.
'Bomb!'
My fist slammed into the missile's nose.
The true power in my punch enveloped the explosion, forcibly redirecting its force.
A advanced technique from general martial arts: deflection.
The combat machine that launched it ate the full backlash.
"Come on out. You've seen enough of my skills, haven't you?"
-Who said so!
The response came from the machine I'd thought destroyed.
Incredible—it was missing half its components yet still moved.
'One hit from my fist should've wrecked its internals?'
The design must be that intricate.
It looked haphazardly made, yet performed at this level.
With proper funding, its endurance could reach monstrous heights.
-I wondered who was wasting my precious time. Just some punk kid?
"Not bad for a punk, right?"
-Don't get cocky. You're not even monthly exercise level.
She was right.
No matter how hard I'd trained, it had only been three months.
Human growth had limits in such a short span.
Whereas Fontana was one of the era's top minds, coveted by all.
"If you're not chasing me off, how about we talk? I've got a very intriguing proposal..."
-No such thing exists. Get lost before you get hurt bad, kid.
"Eh... You'll regret it."
I pulled out the pre-printed paper from my pocket and waved it in the air.
I'd scribbled this over the three days en route.
Info on the neural parasites from last time—rough notes, but I figured Fontana Unte, nursing his grudges, would recognize it.
"Hm, not seeing it?"
-What the hell are you doing?
"I'll leave this. Contact me if you're interested."
-...W-Wait.
Hook, line, and sinker.
The combat machine snatched the paper I'd tossed.
Then it went silent, focusing intently.
-This... where'd you get it?
"Want more?"
Grinning, I half-pulled the bundle from my pocket and shook it.
The machine lunged to grab it.
I kicked it into the corner and said,
"Fontana Unte. As an investor, I request a meeting."
-...You bastard. You wrecked my R3D3.
"Naming sense is terrible."
-Shut up and come in.
The wall in the far corner slid open, spilling bright light.
I strode in confidently.
I'd successfully entered Fontana Unte's secret lab.
*
"That's all?"
A burly middle-aged man in a grubby state greeted me.
He practically snatched the papers I offered, diving into review without so much as a hello.
"No way."
"The rest? You have it now?"
"Right here."
I tapped my head with my finger.
He glanced at me, then buried his face back in the papers.
Less interested than expected?
No chance.
Fontana Unte was the one who could best exploit this knowledge.
As I thought that, he'd apparently finished reviewing and sat at a computer in the corner, typing as he asked,
"What's the deal?"
"Become director of my research lab."
"Term?"
"Until my info runs dry."
"Your name?"
"Leonard Monarch."
His movements froze.
Right after hearing my name.
"Monarch? That Monarch?"
"Damn, stepped on a landmine. Can't back out now..."
His face soured; clearly, there was history I didn't know.
The guy had left shit everywhere.
Few remembered him fondly.
"Don't worry. I'm a distant branch with minimal main family ties, and the lab's fully under me. They won't touch it."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"My biggest investor and business partner is a legitimate prince of the Mohaim royal family. Hard to pick a fight."
"I've heard of him. Saim Mohaim? Wrote some decent papers. Still green, though."
At Saim Mohaim's level, even Fontana recalled full names.
'Maybe I should build my own rep.'
Wandering these past days drove home the need for social status.
Being an Academy cadet carried more weight than Lemon's name, but the Monarch family name opened even more doors.
Without it, even stacks of cash bred suspicion.
Sure, it had downsides equal to upsides, but name-dropping Saim got results.
"...It's out! It's finally out! Damn it!! The answer's here at last!!"
Then Fontana Unte suddenly howled.
Complex calculations filled the screen—he'd run some sims.
"Goddamn it. All those months for something like this..."
"A month?"
I'd thought he'd solved a lifelong puzzle.
Not a bad reaction, though.
"Fontana?"
"Director."
"Fine. Director. Curiosities satisfied?"
"No."
He sat before me.
Ready to talk now.
"About what you say's in your head. Tell me more."
"Sure. Sign this first."
"Contract right away...? NDA too? We need this?"
"You know trust between us is solid."
"Fair enough. No skin off my back."
He nodded and signed without fuss.
I checked it, then spoke.
I'd anticipated disclosing some info to snag talent like him.
More shared secrets meant tighter bonds.
"Yeah, let's start with this."
The time that followed was valuable for both sides.