Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: A Moment's Respite
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I watched a little longer before leaving.
'Aerial combat is just too disadvantageous.' The battle from earlier that dawn filled my mind.
Humans don't have wings.
Even with gear like jetpacks, there are clear limits.
Jetpacks can produce strong output in exchange for needing propellant.
They're compact and easy to wear.
But in intense maneuvers like this, they only last about 15 minutes.
'Other thrusters either lack output or are too bulky.' And I'm not thrilled with any other options either.
The 'wings' being tested at the Salmon Lab crossed my mind.
They ignore inertia, enabling maneuvers impossible with other gear.
If those had been complete, this fight would've been much easier.
'In the end, the answer is technological advancement.'
The skirmish was over, and now the main event—the second wave—awaited.
Before that, I set out to find my unit members, who should be resting.
As I walked slowly down the corridor, some life support crew members I passed gave casual salutes and greeted me warmly.
"Captain, have you eaten?"
"The head chef went all out today. You have to try it."
They treated me without much reservation.
That didn't mean they were rude.
Their roles were completely different from those in combat or command positions, so they had no choice but to be more casual.
'It's practically like civilian contractors.'
I returned the greetings and kept walking.
'Special menu, huh...'
Probably because of the big battle ahead.
Meals were always plentiful, but there was a clear difference when the chef put in extra effort.
'They'll be at the mess hall.'
I immediately changed course.
Anyone I knew would surely be camped out there today.
My guess was spot on.
In one corner of the mess hall sat Rozé, gazing dreamily.
Judging by the stack of plates beside her, she'd already finished eating.
Yet she hadn't left, clearly still longing for more.
Her belly was full, so she couldn't eat another bite—she could only stare.
Once she felt digested enough, she'd dive back in.
'This is it for today.'
I loaded a plate with food and approached her side.
She didn't notice me even as I pulled out a chair and sat down.
I slid the plate right next to her face.
"...Sniff. Sniff sniff."
Her face slowly turned, seeking the delicious aroma.
"Ooh..."
A plate of perfectly crispy Kung Pao chicken right in front of her.
Her hand moved on instinct.
But before she could grab it, I pulled the plate back, and her face crumpled into a pout.
"...Wahhn."
She looked like she'd lost the whole world.
Feeling a pang of guilt, I set the plate down in front of her. "Here."
I'm not sure if she even heard me.
Her expression brightened instantly as she speared some Kung Pao chicken with a fork and shoved it into her mouth.
One, two.
Only when her cheeks were stuffed full, greed sated for the moment, did she snap to her senses, turn her head, and look at me.
She'd finally noticed.
"Lem!!"
"Eat first, then talk."
I sat beside her and watched her feast.
Her cheeks were on the verge of bursting, yet both hands clutched more food.
Her wide eyes monitored how much Kung Pao chicken remained in the dish.
Just watching made a smile creep onto my face.
My tangled thoughts began to settle.
"Nom nom!"
Then sauce splattered onto her cheek.
A red dot smack in the middle.
If it were on her lips, I might've ignored it, but a single drop on her pale cheek demanded attention.
I reached out with a finger to wipe it off.
Suddenly, Rozé froze and stared at me.
More precisely, at my finger heading toward her mouth.
"Mmph mmph?!"
"What?"
Did I touch it while she was eating or something?
Normally, people are less sensitive then.
Her big eyes brimmed with panic. "Still hungry? I'll get more if you need it."
"Thmm mmmph thmmphk!!"
"No need to hold back. There's plenty left. If the troops run out, they can just make more."
She seemed excited, but I couldn't make out the words.
Frustrated at not getting through, she pounded her chest, suddenly shot to her feet, and bolted from the mess hall.
"...Hey, Rozé!"
By the time I reached out, she was gone.
What was that about?
"Perfect timing, Captain." Giz appeared out of nowhere, giving me a thumbs-up.
"What're you on about?"
"They call it 'hero's indulgence.' No one's gonna complain about a little pink during wartime."
"...Whatever. How's the maintenance going?" Giz dragged over his custom chair and sat across from me.
His size made it four times the normal chair.
Even then, the table height forced him into a pitiful hunch, but he was used to it and didn't care.
"All back and resting. With the seniors out, I gave the orders. That okay?"
"Fine by me. Someone had to. Thanks for stepping up."
"I'll do whatever you say, Captain. No thanks needed."
Our unit lacks veterans.
It was a real shame Schepin and Rodrigo were out for something this important.
If they'd been with us when we left Acheron, I'd have brought them, but they were off supporting Lethe Planet at the time.
"Your injuries?"
"Just scrapes. Salve'll fix 'em. Your meds heal even faster. Got more?"
What I'd given them was an emergency med based on healing fluid.
Two forms: ointment for direct application and pills to swallow.
It was trial production, but stability tests were done, so safe to use.
Planning to verify performance via the Golden Fleet and scale up production.
"Tell the quartermaster. Warehouse is stocked."
"Lots of people asking. Can I spread the word?"
"Of course."
Guess word hasn't spread yet.
Maybe because Sia’s away.
Once the urgent stuff's done, I’ll call her back here. "Also, Captain. Got something to say."
"What?"
"When we grab the tentacle head, wanna ditch this."
"Tentacle head? Oh, the Beholder."
Giz jabbed at his solar plexus.
That's where the core weapon's nucleus sits, but core weapons aren't something you just detach at will, so probably not that.
I gave him a look demanding explanation, and he continued. "It'll get ripped out in the fight anyway. Better to remove 'em all beforehand."
"...Remove them?"
Yeah, that's an option.
If we get close, it'll steal the core weapon power anyway.
Might as well drain the power first and start the fight that way.
"But how do you block attacks?"
"I'm good."
He thumped his chest with his fist to show off.
'The iron giant might hold out for a bit.'
Giz's body was insanely tough, unmatched.
Even Rozé at full power couldn't shatter him in one go.
He might last without a barrier.
"...Not a bad idea. But holding it alone won't do much."
"Oh, you're right, Captain. I'm an idiot."
"Not quite an idiot."
Seeing the big guy mope was tough.
I soothed Giz and sank into thought.
'It's not half-bad.'
Too many variables.
It's basically throwing away a superhuman's biggest edge, so injury risk skyrockets.
But it's a gamble worth taking.
'Of course, can't let him go solo.'
I looked at my hand.
I remembered the thing forcibly draining my power.
And the sensation of resisting, ramping up control.
*
The lobster-like alien that played a decisive role in the Beholder's escape.
Temporary designation: Smog Tail.
Individual names often follow the discoverer's suggestion, so high chance it'll stick as official.
Hazard rating: average 3rd-grade dangerous species, based on contamination response.
But commanders figured real threat higher, factoring in ranged attacks, comms jamming spray, and burrowing.
'Is this the type they deemed most needed right now?' Reason I'm eyeing the Smog Tail: it's the first species fully standardized on the Styx front.
We'll face them ongoing.
Once standardization's complete, they'll hit forward lines too.
'To think it synthesizes that stuff internally.'
Of course, I had to try my ability.
With time left before tentacle analysis, I slowly probed the Smog Tail.
The species' traits flooded my mind from the root.
Various environmental factors shaped its evolution.
'Not just for jamming comms. At high concentration, it can shatter energy cohesion sharply.'
Ship guns convert pure engine power into energy.
One essential property: energy cohesion.
Break that, and the energy disperses, weakening destructive power.
Means it can be used defensively too.
'If they use Smog Tails to smog-bomb hatcheries completely, fights get way harder.'
Aliens evolve.
To survive against today's deadliest starships.
The thicker the smog, the less battleship fire penetrates.
'Well, now we know ahead of time.' Counter's simple.
Clear the smog first.
Blast a big bomb for radiant heat and shockwave, then fire.
'Problem's close quarters.' Real worry's ground ops.
Troops' energy rifles have low output.
Even thin smog hampers them badly.
Don't need many Smog Tails for that.
Twenty to thirty.
Enough to neutralize rifles and weaken tank shells plenty.
This could be huge trouble.
Already gives me a headache thinking of front-line impacts. 'First things first here.'
Ground recovery at about 70%.
Pushed speed by postponing hidden hatcheries.
At this rate, target zones cleared in 12 hours.
Then, just the enemy main base left.
Time for the real showdown.
-Beep! Master, preliminary analysis complete.
"This side's done too."
As expected, no traits extractable from the Smog Tail.
I ordered the restrained alien killed and headed to the isolated lab with the tentacle.
"Add more fix pins and remove the cooler."
-Opening door.
Twelve hours detached from the main body.
The tentacle was still alive.
Even kept semi-frozen as precaution.
'Far from wilting—looks even livelier.'
Activity spiked the moment cooling stopped.
Without fix pins, it'd thrash like a live fish.
"Results?"
-Preliminary analysis report ready. View now?
"...Nah, later."
Ran it in case we couldn't recover it.
Report can wait.
I placed my hand on the tentacle and activated my ability.
"...Ngh!" Connection hit me with an info flood.
Immense volume.
Way more than the Smog Tail just now.
But something off.
'It's lacking.'
Huge compared to Smog Tail, but too little versus same 8th-grade like Crimson or Infestation Lord.
'Just the tentacle?' Only explanation.
This tentacle doesn't hold the full Beholder info.
Bit disappointing, but unavoidable.
Even one tentacle from an 8th-grade hazard is lucky to snag.
'Let's see.'
I set aside regret and dove into analysis.