Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Restless Academy
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Due to these various situations, the atmosphere inside the academy was restless and subdued.
The principal had already been away from the academy for over a month.
The teachers only conducted their scheduled classes, refraining from commenting on any other external matters.
"Becoming a superhuman is just the real start. It's not something you can simply rejoice over."
Sahim said calmly.
Merdi chimed in.
"You really think that? It looks great to me no matter how I see it."
"Even if it means going off to fight aliens?"
"What do aliens matter? With a core weapon, the odds of me losing are less than one in ten thousand."
A cynical tone.
Her faith in her own power ran deep.
"Well, yeah."
The core weapon's primary purpose was to protect its user.
While it boosted superpowers, that wasn't its original intent.
Especially for someone like Merdi, with her immense destructive ability, securing her own safety alone would let her unleash far greater power.
"Right?"
Merdi suddenly turned to me and asked.
She must still remember those two failures from the practical test.
I nodded with a perfectly nonchalant expression.
For some reason, that seemed to irk her, and she turned her head away with a slight pout.
"By the way, with things like this, I wonder if core weapon production is proceeding properly."
"No need to worry about that. They've already secured the amount allocated for us."
"Already?"
"The key is securing materials. And in times like these, wouldn't it actually be easier to gather them?"
The core for a core weapon could be made in various ways.
The simplest was using the power organs from high-grade aliens.
Things like the Blue Devil's horn or a hatchery core—organs storing energy essence—were the fastest.
'You can make them artificially, but it's way too inefficient.'
The artificial process was far more complex and time-consuming than that.
The resource loss during production was enormous too, so without those methods, superhumans might never have set foot on the battlefield.
'I'll have to solve this issue someday.'
Superhumans were highly efficient assets.
Give one a core weapon, and they'd produce returns far exceeding the investment, almost guaranteed.
Maintenance costs were negligible compared to other military hardware, and they made for unbeatable propaganda.
It was even more true for high-rank superhumans, and needless to say for the Miracle Generation.
The lower the production costs, the lighter the burden on the Human Union forces—and maybe they'd even build up enough strength to reclaim lost territories.
By the time the protagonist shone in the original story, the issue was half-solved.
But by then, the population had plummeted by more than half, so they couldn't muster a counteroffensive.
Internal divisions hit them too, making the environment all wrong.
Anyway, the key lay with the Salmon Research Institute.
Even if it didn't play out like the original, they might find another way.
I'd just have to work harder for it.
'Ugh...'
On that last expedition to the remote planet, I'd encountered three alien species.
One was the grade-3 threat, Bug Flower.
The data volume on Bug Flower alone exceeded the total I'd compiled on all previous species.
Writing it all out would take at least a year, maybe more.
Lately, my studies had deepened enough that I could filter out unnecessary info, but it was still a massive amount.
'For now, no choice but to grind harder.'
At this point, Fontana's recommended MC (Mind Connector) was starting to seem appealing.
If I could endure the headaches, it would boost stability and speed dramatically—worth a shot.
A standard MC might be iffy, but a custom-made one should have real utility.
If I pushed Fontana a bit more, he'd cough up an improved version.
"Then wouldn't it be better to produce more superhumans?"
"The rest all go into R&D. To maintain the right numbers and quality, this is optimal."
Even superhumans had limited battlefields where they could shine.
Space combat, for instance, wasn't suited for exerting their influence.
Unless it was a small, powerful invader breaching a ship, they'd just be spectators.
Hence the quota: 1,000 per year.
"Hmm... Yeah, that's true."
Yoon Ji-hye nodded.
It applied even more to her.
She had a superpower, sure, but if you got technical, it wasn't much different from a physical enhancer.
Superhumans shone most in hatchery infiltration ops.
Hatchery colonies were fortified with defenses that made fleet bombardments ineffective.
In those cases, deploying a small superhuman team surgically to destroy the 'core' was far more efficient.
That crippled production temporarily, letting them mop up remnants and dismantle the rest at leisure—clean and easy.
"Speaking of which, why did you come to the academy, Sahim? You're a prince."
The Mohaim royal family was wealthy.
Their planet was in the rear lines, far from any defense perimeters.
If he wanted, he could live in luxury forever.
Everyone wondered why someone like him had volunteered for Cradle of Heroes Academy, where once you entered, you were bound for life as a superhuman candidate.
"Haha, what's so special about that?"
"It's special. You're a prince."
Yoon Ji-hye's eyes sparkled.
Sahim smiled softly and countered.
"The title of prince isn't as grand as you think."
"Really?"
"Indeed. And I'm the fourth prince. Lots of duties, but barely any scraps handed to me."
Sahim using such crude words.
Yoon Ji-hye's eyes went wide.
So did mine.
"So what could I do? I figured I'd rather swing my favorite blade as much as I want, so I came here."
"...I had no idea it was for that reason."
"And now I've even made friends who can shed pretenses and support each other. How could it be better?"
Sahim laughed heartily.
Come to think of it, Sahim had changed subtly since we first met.
No longer the lone training maniac; he joined group lunches whenever possible.
And sometimes he'd drop by my dorm for parties—why always mine, I had no idea—but he'd dance and sing with the other cadets like anyone else.
"In that spirit, how about we hold a gathering tonight?"
Sahim proposed, breaking the slightly awkward mood.
"My chef says he got some rare ingredients from our home planet."
"I'm for it. Totally for it!"
Roze voted yes first at the mention of rare ingredients.
The others nodded without objection.
Then Sahim added another idea.
"And this time, how about inviting Cadet Jang Werewolf too?"
"Hmm..."
"Not a bad idea."
Barton answered as I pondered.
He looked at me and continued persuasively.
"Results are showing already. Even if something happens, as long as we're together, he won't cause trouble."
"True, but..."
"What's there to worry about? I've got your back. You think he'd dare flip out in front of me?"
Merdi snorted.
She'd been the harshest on him so far.
She'd joined experiments most often, under the guise of stress relief.
Maybe that's why he stayed rational longer around her than others.
'As long as I stay cautious.'
He still bristled at the sight of me, but as long as I didn't use the horn's power directly, it wouldn't escalate to rampage.
With the group around to act as controllers, it should be fine.
"It's decided!"
Roze shouted.
A few quick-witted cadets approached, asking if they could join too.
'Ugh, it's gonna be a mess again today.'
Hope there's enough space.
I booked room cleaning service in advance and let out a small sigh.
*
In the captain's quarters of a certain flagship.
A man lay sprawled face-down on the sofa, utterly motionless, one arm dangling to the floor.
"Ughhh..."
The man's identity: Darmosa.
Head of the Central Superhuman Unit and overall commander of support forces.
He was also a patient suffering from 'infinite Monday blues' after surrendering his dream vacation due to recent events.
"Ah, I just want to die like this."
Wouldn't that be easier?
Darmosa agonized inwardly.
But visions of his vast, unviewed collection danced before his eyes.
'I've got to watch all that before I go.'
Tough call.
The problem was, he had no time to enjoy them.
If those damn aliens hadn't rampaged at this critical juncture, he'd be lounging in his office right now, legs up, savoring each one.
'Oh yeah, she said she got something good.'
He recalled Leonardo's message.
Huge age gap, but to him, she was a like-minded friend.
The revival of combat mechs was still a monumental event with lingering impact.
If the alien surge had come five years later, things might've improved enough for a 'counterattack.'
Of course, they weren't useless even now.
With local skirmishes on the horizon, combat mechs would reduce friendly losses as effectively as superhumans.
'But first...'
He recalled the intel he'd reviewed today.
Something ominous was afoot.
Hard to pinpoint, but his battlefield-honed instincts wouldn't shake the feeling.
'What are they after?'
The fourth defense line holding two weeks longer than expected wasn't due to Union forces' prowess.
The aliens' movements had been off.
They'd gained much from it, but whether it was truly good remained unclear.
'And these guys too.'
More than one or two things nagged at him.
Trouble always piled up, and now some fools were stirring problems right when it hit.
'The old man's around, so I'll watch for now?'
The principal was remarkable.
Somehow he'd sniffed out the shady moves around the academy before Darmosa, despite being closer to key intel.
With the principal stepping in, things would sort themselves.
That's what Darmosa thought.
If not, he could intervene then.
Plus, an unexpected ally was involved this time.
None other than the Monarch family.
'Hmm, does the trail lead there?'
He had a hunch.
The attempted kidnappings targeting academy cadets' families.
Leonardo had caught it early, averting disaster, but they hadn't rooted out the source.
Connecting the dots, it screamed the same group.
"Ugh...!"
Darmosa flipped over.
For a superhuman who could support tons with a pinky, he looked pathetically frail.
Groaning like a hunched old man, he finally dragged himself off the sofa after an eternity.
"Oof, oof."
He'd poured out all his motivation onto the sofa, but reality allowed no such luxury.
Everything for the support forces hinged on him.
If he stopped, everyone did.
Darmosa's eyes gleamed.
The uproar from this alien surge was said to take over three years to settle.
But he gritted his teeth and vowed to himself.
"One year. Just one."
No other reason.
That was his limit for endurance.
What came after, who knew—but he could hold out a year, max.
In exchange, he'd pour everything into rebuilding his prime before then.
'Triple Link Sector'
His gaze locked on one spot in the star chart.
A place where much blood would soon flow.
Where humanity's fate—and his own—hung in the balance.