Chapter 172
Chapter 172
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 172
Chapter Title: Superhuman Summit
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All superhumans share one thing in common.
They practically live on the battlefield.
Whether they want to or not, they have to spend long stretches of time in the field where life and death intersect.
Can such superhumans really stay completely sane?
No matter how strong their mental fortitude, everyone cracks somewhere.
Even if they seem fine on the surface.
Fortunately, the Union has a highly systematic and scientific mental health program in place for these superhumans.
But the Union didn't stop at conservative management measures.
They took proactive steps beyond mere oversight.
That's partial personality reconstruction.
The term sounds off-putting from the start, but it's not necessarily bad.
By equipping them with a mindset suited to their environment, it prevents negative factors before they arise and boosts survival rates.
Performed entirely with Mimir's assistance, the odds of serious side effects are astronomically low. Plus, it's akin to mental armor, so it doesn't drastically alter their core personality.
In short, an introvert stays introverted, and the same goes for others.
However, the reconstruction dilutes their fear of aliens and significantly reduces their aversion to war.
To minimize resistance, it has to be conducted secretly throughout the entire Academy curriculum.
If there's one clear drawback, it's that superhumans become overly positive about using force—especially long-serving veterans, where it intensifies.
That's why veteran superhumans take pride in their power and are prone to resolving conflicts through violence.
Superhuman unit leaders turning into battle junkies stems from this.
"Waaah~."
Roze's eyes sparkled as she soaked in the atmosphere, her fighting spirit rising.
Given her naturally aggressive personality, the conference hall felt like a festival to her.
"Even in a situation like this, that young lady over there looks thrilled. Roze, was it?"
Someone suddenly spoke up.
It was Saladian, seated two chairs away.
Roze glanced at him, realizing he was addressing her, and replied.
"Can't I be?"
"Of course you can. In fact, I think a personality like yours fits right in here."
"Hehe, is it always like this? Before coming, I figured it'd be all stiff and formal with boring talks."
Barton and Sahim didn't say anything, but they wore the same dubious expressions.
Saladian scanned us briefly and spoke.
"It's easy to misunderstand at first. But the serious discussions don't actually happen here."
"Huh?"
"Complicated matters get settled via comms."
"That's..."
"How could we decide important agendas in a meeting where not even 30% of the attendees show up? And in just one day, no less."
The Superhuman Summit's average attendance is under 30%, just as he said.
For any credibility, at least half need to be present, so without that, deciding major issues is impossible from the outset, as Saladian pointed out.
"So this gathering is just to confirm pre-agreed matters at best. Haha, helpful?"
"Ahh..."
Roze nodded vigorously.
Then, curiosity struck again, and she tossed out another question.
"Then why bother holding it at all?"
"Why? Because it feels like we need at least one proper-looking conference."
"Wha..."
"If I had to pin a reason, it's Darmosa's idea that we need occasions like this to even talk."
Saladian glanced subtly at Darmosa.
The hall had settled after a brief commotion and was now proceeding with various discussions under Darmosa's lead.
"Then let's pose a question here."
"……?"
"Do you know why they chose such a rundown, remote location for the conference?"
A playful glint crept into his smiling face.
The answer came from Sahim.
"Because it's going to get wrecked anyway?"
"Oh, the prince nailed it. Heard it somewhere?"
"No need. Just look around."
Sahim swept his gaze across the hall as he spoke.
Lingling's ability had calmed things once, but the tension hadn't fully dissipated.
If anything, invisible auras clashed tautly.
A hair-trigger anxiety, where the slightest spark could set everything off.
In the midst of it, Darmosa ran the meeting with a smiling face, and our chatting felt utterly out of place.
"And you too."
After a beat, Sahim fixed Saladian with a straight stare and continued.
Out of left field.
But Saladian responded with an even broader grin.
"Caught me, huh?"
"Anyone would notice with hostility that blatant. Back off."
"Ho, you saw that far?"
Saladian's eyes gleamed with interest.
Right then, something shifted.
The space between him and us changed hue, as if shedding a layer—like objects had been cloaked.
'Sneaky as hell.'
My muscles tensed instinctively.
I'd known Saladian was up to something, but I'd only sensed unease without pinpointing it.
Even knowing his ability.
Saladian manipulates objects made of fine particles, like sand.
At first, it was just stirring dust, but after years of training to clump and separate particles, it became incredibly dangerous.
'Basically creation itself.'
Freely assembling particles means conjuring objects with any shape or property on the spot.
In a sealed space like this, packed tight—what if it filled with razor-sharp spikes?
Or sudden chains binding your legs?
Countless applications.
If activation weren't so tricky, Saladian's power could rival Vashmuth's.
'Sahim spotting and calling out Saladian's ploy early is impressive in its own right.'
But it wasn't just Sahim—the other two showed no surprise either.
They'd known but stayed silent, now eyeing Saladian expectantly.
"Just kidding. Kidding. Had no real intent."
"You could've gone for it."
"What……?"
Saladian met Roze's grinning gaze.
A moment later, he shook his head in dismay.
"...You're no ordinary girl. Anyway, you got it right. There is one more reason, but no need to mention it."
We turned back to the conference.
Just then, Darmosa wrapped one topic and shifted to personnel supplements.
"...Let's see. Vashmuth. Needing this many again?"
"What's the problem, old man?"
"Asking 'cause you don't know? You take the most and discharge the most every time! Aigoo."
Darmosa clutched his head like it was a real headache.
But Vashmuth just crossed his arms and snorted.
"Hmph. Cerberus has no use for sloppy ones."
"Can't you just make do?"
"Think that'll work?"
"...No. You'd just ruin good kids again."
Darmosa scratched his nape roughly and replied. "They're not ruined by me—they do it to themselves."
"Same difference. Settle for some."
"Give me one, and I will."
"Who?"
Vashmuth's eyes landed on us.
Darmosa alternated glances between his stare and us, then quietly spoke.
"...Roze, maybe?"
"Hand her over, and I won't ask for anything for three years."
"Hey, no can do."
"Not under your purview, old man?"
"Not at all. Roze's affiliation is out of my hands. Negotiate directly if you want."
"Fine. I will."
"Wait!"
As I wondered what they were saying about her right in front of her, someone shot to their feet.
El Quaiza.
He'd been mute facing Vashmuth moments ago, but now he was furious, practically shouting.
"No way! I called dibs on that girl first. Butt out!"
"You really wanna die..."
Vashmuth stood too.
He ignored the knight order leader blocking his path like he was nothing and closed in.
Yet El Quaiza wouldn't shut up.
"Give me a reason! Why covet a mere first-year like that, even yielding concessions?!"
"Reason? Talent."
"...Talent."
El Quaiza clamped his mouth shut, suppressing his rage.
He glared at Vashmuth in silence for a bit, then muttered.
"I won't accept it."
"Accept what?"
"...My talent was the best of the era! Everyone acknowledged it! But you never invited me. When I offered to join first, you refused!"
"......"
"And now talent? How am I supposed to buy that?!"
Clearly, they had history.
I'd have enjoyed the show if not for Roze being the trigger, but now tension crept in.
Vashmuth watched El Quaiza spit his words indifferently, then spoke.
"Your talent was the best?"
"Yeah! Why not me but her?"
"Hah."
Vashmuth swung his greatsword.
Incredible speed, even on rewatch.
Not an attack—the knight order leader didn't block, and the blade halted before El Quaiza's eyes.
El Quaiza flinched back half a step into a stance, startled by the sudden move.
Vashmuth's sneer deepened at the sight.
"That's exactly why not."
"......"
"The talent I mean isn't just quick learning. You lack what I want. And talent?"
"What..."
"Yours is serviceable, not 'best' material. Especially compared to the one fueling your inferiority complex—it's trash."
"Lies...!"
"If you doubt it, test her yourself. I reckon she'd win even now."
Did he sense the sincerity in Vashmuth's face?
El Quaiza turned to Roze, incredulous.
He'd probably dismiss it as a lie to the end.
But locking eyes with Roze staring back, his face flushed in fury.
"That bitch and me...?!"
"Bitch?! Watch your mouth, asshole!"
Roze jumped up in retort.
Not because of the insult, though.
She looked thrilled, like she could finally throw down.
El Quaiza grew even more flabbergasted at her attitude.
"You...!"
As El Quaiza opened his mouth again, he hastily drew his sword.
Roze had closed in in a blink and smashed down with her raised blade.
Kwaang!!
Unable to absorb the impact, El Quaiza smashed through the wall and vanished.
Darmosa muttered as Roze chased after.
"...Here we go again. Meeting's over. Next schedule?"
"One hour from now."
"That tight?"
"We had another slotted 20 minutes ago. That's canceled now."
"...Good thing."
Darmosa, slipping away like Tana, suddenly glanced at me and tapped his panel.
A signal to contact him.
I nodded, stood, and headed out to watch the fight.
Their brawl had already spilled outside the building.
"Hasn't changed a bit."
Barton spoke up midway.
"Roze, sure."
"Not just Roze. You too."
"Me?"
No way I'd stayed the same.
I thought I'd changed more than anyone.
But Barton's words didn't seem about power or knowledge gains.
By the time I pondered it, we were outside.
Roze and El Quaiza blurred through the air, kicking up clouds of desert sand in hyper-speed motion.