Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Core Weapon Bestowal Ceremony
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By now, he's probably holed up in a shelter.
And in another ten years, he'll awaken his abilities after going through a bunch of tragedies and enroll in the Academy.
It's changed quite a bit, but the protagonist's future still seems set in stone.
"Once you start working as a superhuman, you'll get your chance."
"...It's not like we're short on time or anything?"
"Superhuman work isn't just about beating down aliens. ...I doubt they'd just leave Leonard alone like that."
"......Pardon?"
"Heh heh, nothing. Forget I said anything."
The tail end of that was so quiet I could barely catch it.
It sounded like something important.
But in my current situation, even knowing wouldn't change a damn thing.
'Guess I'll find out when the time comes.'
I shoved the half-baked worry aside.
Not like I knew what hell might be waiting for me later.
*
A day passed.
What I'd done the previous evening was eat my fill and spit up a storm.
'Of all the shitty luck.'
No matter how many times I did it, I never got used to this crap.
Anyway, after that grueling prep, I whipped up the treatment fluids and headed back to the ward.
The patients I needed to treat were about seventy cadets.
I excluded soldiers and other personnel.
It was an unavoidable choice.
I could treat them, sure.
But for non-cadets, they could get treated somehow without me.
Meaning my presence was replaceable.
'Unless it's some really severe case.'
If the contamination was that bad, they probably wouldn't need me anyway.
At that stage, it was past life support—death was knocking at the door in seconds.
In the end, it came down to personal preferences on artificial bodies or cyborg conversions. Treatable patients could regain normal flesh without me.
So, I planned to keep my abilities under wraps.
Even if I played the saint handing out miracle cures to those who hated augments, I couldn't treat every mass-produced patient. I'd just end up with endless backlash.
And if I wasted time on side gigs, it'd stir up even more controversy.
'A double-edged sword.'
I had to wield it carefully.
Keep half the blade sheathed and sharpen the rest razor-thin.
That way, it'd keep working on the right people without backlash.
"......Senior!"
"Hey."
"You really came back!"
My first patient.
Ur Karma greeted me with his whole body.
"How's the body holding up?"
"You were right, senior! I'm definitely feeling better."
I checked the display by his bed.
The pre- and post-treatment scan results clearly showed the difference.
'At this rate, I might not need to do it all myself.'
If I handled about 80%, medical procedures could finish the rest for a full recovery.
Of course, that meant focusing on the risky parts.
'But today, I'm doing it all.'
Tomorrow was the bestowal ceremony.
I needed the cadets in top shape before then.
First-years weren't part of it, so they didn't strictly need full cures, but discrimination was bad form.
Since I'd brought treatment fluid on day one, I'd go all out to hone my skills.
"I'm finishing the rest today. Ready?"
"You mean mentally? I'm good anytime."
"You're my guinea pig, man. Worst case too."
"You're my savior, senior. I won't hold it against you if it goes wrong. Please, I beg you."
With resolve like that, fine.
I had zero intention of failing anyway.
"......What's this?"
"Stuff for the treatment. Strawberry or grape—which one?"
"Uh, either's fine....... Do I drink all of it?"
I poured a full glass from the container.
"Yeah, down the hatch."
I'd mixed in saliva to mask the smell.
It didn't stink to me, but vibes, you know?
Anyway, Ur chugged it without complaint—must've tasted okay.
"Tastes good."
"......Here we go."
I placed my hand on the mutated area and jacked in.
'From the inside out.'
I focused hard and pushed the treatment.
Alien factors mostly latched onto cell molecules, twisting their properties or messing with bonds to trigger harmful reactions in the body.
As contamination worsened, they'd assault cells outright, causing destruction and wild mutations—serious diseases.
Eventually, they'd seize the brain, scramble the nervous system, turn the host into an irreversible monster, or just kill them.
What I was doing was stripping away those alien factors glued to the molecules and, in bad spots, nuking them entirely.
Inside Ur's body, changes kept rippling out.
Bleeding, organs stalling momentarily, that sort of thing.
Without the treatment fluid, he might've flatlined a few times over, but his condition was improving rapidly.
After about twenty minutes, I pulled my hand away.
"......All done. Huh?"
Ur was out cold, drenched in sweat.
I checked the display to make sure it wasn't a screw-up—status normal, luckily.
Fainted or asleep, he was lights-out.
'Well, the process was pretty intense.'
I'd rushed it, turning it into something like major surgery for him.
Probably hurt like hell too.
He didn't thrash around, which was a miracle.
'My bad.'
Yesterday's quick treatment had targeted low-side-effect stuff, so I'd overlooked the pain.
From the next patient on, better to knock 'em out first.
'Still, probably best not to wake him.'
Result-wise, success.
I glanced at the soundly sleeping Ur and quietly left the room.
One down.
*
Core Weapon Bestowal Ceremony.
Cadets in full dress uniforms gathered in droves, shuffling through the convoluted program.
Even the principal's short, punchy address couldn't help today.
"Feels just like a party, huh?"
"Yeah. First time I've seen this many outsiders at the Academy."
The Academy was packed with guests for the ceremony and celebration.
Most were families and friends of second-years with access, plus generals from various legions, scions of famous houses, celebs, superhumans—folks from all walks.
"Uncomfortable."
"It's mandatory today. Eat this and tough it out."
"Whoa, where'd you get this?"
"Need more? I got you."
Roze beamed, fork in hand, diving into mukbang mode.
The food was top-tier today—she was devouring it.
That's when Merdi showed up, some guy glued to her.
He kept tailing her boldly—clearly an outsider with eyes for her.
"...Come on, just talk for a sec?"
"Quit bugging me and scram. Nothing to say."
"Sheesh. Playing hard to get. You're a model, right? I can hook you up with ads. Whaddya think?"
I could see her eye twitch from here.
'Oh man, she's gonna blow.'
Edges sharpening.
Then our eyes met midway.
"...Huh?"
She veered straight my way.
And with a head jerk, pointed out the creep trailing her.
"Ugh......"
Guess defusing the bomb fell to me.
I stood casually, blocking the guy's path as Merdi passed.
"......Better than that cheap makeup ad you're doing now, promise? Don't you wanna...... Who the hell are you?"
"Her agent."
"......Agent?"
The guy blinked between Merdi and me in confusion.
Merdi had already tuned us out, plopping next to Roze and fussing with her hair.
"So, Monarch House? One of theirs?"
"Leonard Monarch. And you?"
"Me? Just a guy like this."
He snapped his fingers.
A holographic business card popped up in midair.
Mutant Medical Corporation CMO (Chief Marketing Officer): 'Herman K. Junior VII.'
'Mutant Medical.'
A biotech giant with deep roots.
A dynasty spanning seven generations, lording over a whole planet.
"......Haven't heard the name Leonard before—my knowledge must be lacking. Distant branch...?"
"Side family."
"Ah, figured. Makes sense. Still, you graduated the Academy somehow."
"Not graduated yet."
His tone had turned cautious at the Monarch name, but flipped casual fast.
Still polite, though.
'Before recently, he wouldn't have given me the time of day.'
The Herman House of Mutant Medical ranked top ten in the Space Alliance.
They'd look down on the Monarchs, barely clinging to top hundred after their fall.
Especially not dignify a side-branch using the family name.
Only now, with Monarchs rising, the deference.
"Got your Core Weapon, so you're a superhuman now? Could get pulled into the main line soon? Must be thrilled."
"Haha."
"That cosmetic you whipped up? Spill the secret... Nah, trade secret, right?"
"Yep."
"Knew it. Lend me that lady instead. We've got great products, but no fitting model."
First time dealing with this type since Runshin.
'Though this one's slimier.'
Guts to hit on superhumans? Textbook.
Arrogant prick.
Untouchable ego mixed with 'I do what I want' confidence.
Among the guests, his background was top-tier—count 'em on one hand.
"You get me? Using models like her, you must."
"I do. Hard to find her caliber. She's special."
"We click. So......?"
That smug 'knew you'd see it my way' look.
I smiled right back.
"That's why no."
"......What?"
"No means no."
"You deaf or something?"
"Flow of convo seems fine? Like I said, no one's her equal."
Junior tilted his head back slightly.
Then scanned me head to toe, slow.
Finally interested in 'me.'
"You......"
"Here you are? Took forever to find you. This guy's fault......"
"Boss. I'm here too."
Then, out of nowhere, they barged in.
Runshin and Giz.
From the looks, Runshin had been half-dragged by Giz.
'Besties now, huh.'
I'd never say that aloud—Runshin'd deny it to the death.
Just then, sour-faced Junior muttered.
"And what the hell are these clowns?"
"Clowns?"
No way he missed that.
Runshin's head snapped around, cocked at an angle.
Personality-wise, he and Raphael topped the charts.
'Oh, it's on.'
He'd mellowed rubbing elbows at the Academy, but that temper didn't vanish.
"Egg ghost lookalike. You just called this body a 'clown'?"
"What? Egg ghost? Ha, haha....... What a day I'm having."
"You're the freak show. Male makeup so sloppy it's tragic. What the fuck?"
Junior popped his holo-card again, pressing on.
"......Not just running your mouth 'cause it's loose. Sure you won't regret it?"
Mood turned ugly fast.
Somehow, against my will, I'd stepped back to spectate the mess.
Not that I minded.
Watching fights beat being in 'em.
"Pfft! Who the hell are you to talk?"
Runshin didn't flinch even after the name-drop.
Stepped closer, eyes bulging.
'Wait, come to think of it......?'
Runshin's background was no slouch either.