Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Core Weapon Synchronization
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War with the aliens drives humanity into extreme environments.
In such conditions, armor suits are essential.
Waging war in harsh terrain without an armor suit is simply unthinkable.
The beauty of a core weapon is that it lets you operate in those environments without donning thick gear like an armor suit.
The massive swarm of nanobots inside your body stockpiles clean external oxygen under normal conditions, allowing you to function for over an hour without needing outside air.
They also form a protective membrane that flows across your skin's surface, shielding you from drastic temperature swings or pressure differentials.
But these are just baseline features any squad could pull off without a core weapon.
The real game-changer comes next.
A core weapon acts as an energy tank, fueling the unleashing of superhuman abilities for those gifted with them.
For ability users, the boosted power source amps up the abilities themselves.
On top of that, superhumans gain access to potent energy barriers.
‘Of course, it's nothing compared to Crimson...’
Crimson is in a league of its own, but this is still plenty powerful.
Tanking a direct hit from a Murdoch-class battleship's main gun is impressive enough—anything more would be plain greed.
Physical fighters, meanwhile, don't see their abilities strengthen like the espers do, but their energy barriers get even tougher.
Depending on your skill level, you could shrug off main-gun fire from classes above Murdoch.
‘Almost there?’
The setup was nearly complete.
Syncing it fully to my body's energy profile would take at least three more days, though.
The core, coiled deep in my solar plexus, pulsed power in rhythm with my heartbeat—releasing it, then drawing it back in.
The energy definitely felt alien.
Like when I first got the Blue Demon's Horn.
But with each passing beat, it assimilated to my own shade, bit by bit.
“After first integrating a core weapon into your body, it's best to rest for three days.”
The instructor's voice returned.
I glanced around—other cadets were starting to stir.
“No workouts?”
“Light exercise is okay. But nothing that risks injury or impact. It could disrupt synchronization or cause issues.”
“And that's it?”
“You'll intuit the rest. You got those docs on the dummy unit from the conferment ceremony, right? Study them. Any real blockheads who still can't figure it out can come to me. Not that there'll be any...”
I'd already devoured every page of the superhuman's recommended docs.
What I'd outlined in a single page had ballooned into a thousand-page technical tome.
Functions and performance only—no engineering specs.
I read it all anyway.
Core weapons were that critical.
The deeper your grasp, the better your odds of survival.
The docs also drove home why core weapons were hailed as hyper-tech marvels.
‘We'll have to mass-produce them ourselves someday...’
Core weapons were straight-up miracles.
Unlike every other tech, they felt like ooparts lapping centuries ahead in isolation.
Light-years beyond the "combat machines" Salmon Research Institute was churning out.
The tech gap? Daunting.
‘...Time to scale up.’
Salmon Research Institute as-is wouldn't cut it.
Not a knock on Fontana Unte.
Scale was the bottleneck.
Humanity's tech base had broadened and deepened relentlessly for a millennium since civilization hit hyperdrive.
No genius, no matter how brilliant, could solo that from scratch.
‘...Plenty of scientists worth recruiting, at least.’
Top talent hadn't shifted much from the original timeline—or now.
"Top-tier" scientists needed decades to earn the label.
Even freaks like Fontana Unte took fifty years to blow up.
She'd flamed out briefly, only reclaiming the spotlight past her century mark.
Point was, with Salmon's grown footprint, we had the pull to lure elite minds.
‘Later for that. This first.’
I zeroed in on the core's power cycle.
Its rhythm mirrored the horn's, fundamentally.
If I had to nitpick, the core weapon's felt more engineered—polished.
Missing that raw, explosive edge from the horn.
But for steady, reliable output to drive other functions? Superior.
‘Different flavor, same handling.’
The Blue Demon's Horn could form energy barriers too.
Weaker, sure—power source too puny by comparison.
Which meant I could probably manifest one via the core weapon right now.
‘...Like this?’
I recalled the feel, easing the core's energy outward.
Sync wasn't done, so it fought me—like herding a sulky kid through homework.
Clear intent and steady pressure coaxed a response, though.
That's when the superhuman barked.
“What the—? Someone already pulled it off?”
I cracked my eyes.
Every cadet gawking at one girl.
Merdi.
A crisp energy barrier shimmered around her lightly sweating frame.
‘Figures...’
I had to admire it.
Sure, I'd logged similar reps, but this was her virgin run.
And she'd beaten me to it.
‘Control on point.’
Original Merdi couldn't have matched this speed.
Current version? Years ahead of schedule.
Even with the full Miracle Generation 5 crew, she'd have smoked them.
Her "control issues" were an illusion—her raw power just too overwhelming.
The superhuman swung his gaze my way.
“Not a solo act, huh? This class really is stacked with freaks...”
Cadets whipped around, clocked me, nodded like it tracked.
Treating it as a given.
‘Thought they'd be more shocked...?’
No mere nods here.
Unlike Merdi's feat, this sparked a frenzy—buzzing excitement.
“Boss strikes again.”
“Neck-and-neck with Merdi, though.”
“Nah, boss edged her out.”
Merdi caught the noise, glanced back—our eyes locked.
No big reaction, surprisingly.
Just a pouty stare, then a sharp pivot to ramrod straight.
‘What was that...?’
Fleeting puzzlement, but no time—cadets swarmed with questions.
“How'd you do it? Spill—teach us!”
“Boss?”
“...Huh? Oh, uh, y'know...”
Would explaining even help?
Weirder still: Not just my old 1st squad buds from joint practicals—random cadets calling me boss too.
Couldn't ghost them, so I broke it down best I could.
End of day, day-one barrier successes? Me and the Miracle Generation 5. That was it.
*
Life post-core weapon felt much the same.
Cadets on the cusp of commissioning kept a subdued vibe—almost solemn.
Unique among generations: Their debut combat had been an air raid. Battlefield jitters mixed with grim focus.
Some acted oblivious, naturally.
“Wow. It's huge.”
I'd just pulled up to Salmon Research Institute.
Crew: About thirty.
Pre-commission lockdown limited cadets to Terra planet jaunts—no farther. Bored and hearing of my outing, they'd tagged along.
“Free roam from here. Your passes cap at Zone 2—don't forget.”
“No boss team-up?”
Giz piped up.
Others leaned in, curious.
Sadly, from here? Just me and Sahim.
“Sorry. Director nixed the access. You know how it is...”
“Security's ironclad—we get it. Catch you after, boss.”
Cadets scattered. Sahim and I headed in.
Roze, Barton, and Merdi had planned to tag.
Show 'em the lab, split spoils under "reward" pretense.
They bailed with the group instead—handle it my way.
Truth: Crimson's byproducts weren't mine outright.
I'd tagged along; the arm and wing hacksaws? Near-total credit to Roze and the core four.
Disposing solo with zero payout? No way.
Conscience wouldn't stand it.
Especially prime fodder for the lab's next big project.
‘Speaking of...’
Sahim's inaugural visit.
In from day one on setup, but swamped till now.
“First time today?”
“Yeah. About time.”
“You're co-owner. Oughta see it.”
“...Owner?”
“What? Off-base?”
“I'm no owner here.”
Sahim shook his head.
“Just a shareholder investor. All this springs from your mind and hands—how could I claim ownership?”
“...C'mon, that's overkill. You poured heart into founding it.”
“No overstatement. Setup's barely a footnote merit.”
His eyes broadcast sincerity.
“Lab exists to mine your brain, period.”
“...Huh.”
“Scale's solid now, foundations locked. External shakes? Off the table. Time to rejigger shares? I'll deed you mine. Royals limit full control, but half's doable.”
“...What?”
Stunned.
Its worth alone...
“...Face says you never dreamed it.”
“Duh. Outta nowhere—why?”
Sahim paused, voice steady.
“Current split? Your genius sells wholesale. You know that?”
“...Royalties down the line.”
“That suffice? Really?”
“...”
I'd figured fair play.
Profits were insane already.
Sahim saw lopsided rip-off.
‘Shouldn't I be the one griping...? ’
He pressed on.
“Friend—that's sloppy. Fair at inception, sure. Now?”
I knew the score.
No me, no lab. Shares? Irrelevant. Influence iron.
Director Fontana, head researchers—all allies.
Trouble? Spin up a new one.
By then, teething pains solved—monopoly beyond current stakes.