Farewell, Will Bates
Farewell, Will Bates. …………… Hmm. And now dozens more suited goons pour out. This is throwing the balance way off. It's like handing a four-year-old a blue workbook problem set and then slipping in a killer calculus question.
Yeom Hana is strong. If she's lucky, she could handle maybe three of those suited thugs. But there aren't three of them—there are over a dozen, and who knows how many more are hiding inside the airship. No helping it.
I slip into position between the newly arrived underlings of Will Bates and Yeom Hana.
[……Didn't you just say we shouldn't steal away her chance to grow?]
The glasses-wearing mini-mind narrows her eyes and picks a fight. Hey now. This isn't a growth opportunity—it's a death trap. What good is a workbook if you die solving it?
As I step forward, my eyes meet Will Bates's again. Through his silver frames, he's observing me. Tracking my eye movements like before, maybe. I figured he'd complain—Our company had this in the bag, why does this outer god keep meddling? It's not fair—something like that.
But Will Bates says nothing.
[Of course. From the start, the power gap between you and Will Bates, or Will Bates and the Threat Management Agency, is too vast. The point of those bodyguards is just to keep the agency folks from charging in and provoking you.]
Indeed. Yeom Hana, Han Min-seo, Shin Chang-seok—they're all variables not even worth factoring into his calculations.
"Understood."
Will Bates finally speaks. What did he read in my eye movements during that pause?
"You have no intention of cooperating with Microgenics. Nor do you plan to attack us yourself, or let us crush Korea's Threat Management Agency unchecked. Is that right?"
His glasses flash under the deck lights. Like some detective surrounded by daily murders. As for his question to me...
Well, honestly, I'm not entirely sure myself. All I know is I decided to respect your will, Will Bates. I have no interest in a future where 8 billion humans' emotions are incinerated—but your will and effort poured into it aren't fake.
...Not that I can explain it that way. So I just shrug at Will Bates.
Then I turn, take Yeom Hana's hand, and convey my intent.
"W-We’re heading back!? We came all this way!"
Yeom Hana glares up in protest. Through the Neutronium Suit, her emotions boil like flames surging from the armor itself. But this attachment human of mine? Without me, she'd have been turned into an emotionless puppet on the spot. And yet here she is, still itching for a fight. Fearless, or maybe just that opposed to Will Bates's plans.
I stare up at her pointedly, and her eyes waver as she hesitates. But her grip on my hand tightens fiercely. Her whole body is screaming to charge forward.
After wrestling with it, Yeom Hana clicks her tongue like she's swallowing something bitter.
"......Fine. I get the gist."
Her gaze shifts from Will Bates to me.
"Anyway, outer god, if you're not helping, it's impossible. Can't rely on you, huh."
Resignation laces her voice as the tension drains from her hand. Hmm. Right now, Yeom Hana's radiating something incredibly complex and subtle. Like the heat right after she beat Tera Chad, but different. Back then, it was triumphant fire rising from within. Now it's frustrated heat bubbling up—the heat of failure.
She hates not resolving this herself, hates being overpowered by Will Bates's goons. That must be it.
Meanwhile, on the other side, movement. Will Bates's underlings are out cold thanks to me, so Shin Chang-seok and the agency agents are shaking off their restraints and regrouping. Shin Chang-seok grabs the railgun rifle that had rolled across the deck. His arm trembles faintly as he grips the barrel one-handed.
Whoa, Shin Chang-seok's emotions are churning wildly too. Just like Yeom Hana's. The pressure building under his ironclad facade reaches me even here. He's one lid flip from exploding. He looks ready to pull the trigger on Will Bates any second.
But Shin Chang-seok doesn't shoot him outright. Instead, he scans his surroundings. An agent clutching a broken arm and gritting his teeth. Magical girl Han Min-seo supporting an unconscious, bloodied colleague with a furious scowl. And those who can't even stand anymore.
Shin Chang-seok's jaw clenches like stone.
"......We're pulling out."
Oh, he bottled it up after all. Every time I see it, I'm impressed by this man's patience and restraint.
The VTOL that landed on the deck opens its ramp, and agency personnel start boarding one by one. Some helping, some helped. A power suit agent slinging an unconscious one over his shoulder.
I watch the scene blankly when—
"One thing I'd like to pass along."
Will Bates's voice comes from behind. Huh, again? This guy's surprisingly persistent. No emotions, but plenty of tenacity.
"Come to Washington someday. Humanity's future—the answer lies there."
Hmm. He seems to think I want to help humans. Maybe from watching me struggle earlier not to kill them. Inviting me to his turf probably means he figures I'll side with him if I see it firsthand.
Tough misunderstanding to correct. I just decided to hang out with humans, that's all. Didn't want to end up like the mom who swallowed my universe.
But—travel. Across the ocean to the American continent.
[America!]
One mini-mind's eyes sparkle as she shoots up her hand.
[Hamburgers as big as people's faces!]
[Pizza! Super thick pizza!]
[Statue of Liberty!]
[Big rock face!]
The mental world turns into a pre-school-trip frenzy. Mini-minds waving arms everywhere in excitement.
[Uh, they say average tips are 250% these days...... But since we're on unlimited foraging, maybe it's fine.]
Meanwhile, the glasses-wearing one mutters alone in the corner, left out of the party. It's not foraging. It's interest-free, unsecured, unlimited-duration loan.
Anyway, the mini-minds all look thrilled. Travel might not be so bad. I'll go if the chance comes. Gotta check if those American continent burgers are really face-sized.
I lock eyes with Will Bates one last time, then vault over the deck railing.
The night wind whips my hair. The airship recedes, Seoul's nightscape sprawling beneath my feet. Each light holds humans living their lives. Munching snacks, gaming, reading comics, loving someone, worrying about someone.
This world still has flavor. It's fine.
……………
Kepler-442b star system to Sol system: 38 hours via superluminal navigation.
Jenica El Corazón Meldiana. Kepler-442b Royal Palace, 37th Reconnaissance Officer in line.
Height: 148 cm by human standards. Golden blonde twintails, amber-gold eyes like topaz. Outwardly, she resembles some arrogant elf from human fiction—but tell her that, and she'll be deeply offended. Not that she'd even know what an elf is.
Hiss.
The spaceship hatch slides open, humid air flooding Jenica's lungs. Oxygen 21%, nitrogen 78%. Fine for life support, but the musty mix of dirt and moisture turns her stomach.
Jenica descends the stairs, surveying her surroundings. Landing zone: southern tip of a peninsula on target planet Sol d. A nail-clipping of land dangling off the continent's edge.
Original target: the continent held by Reptilian remnants. But pre-scan showed the opposing continent's defenses far thicker than expected. Dozens of orbital defense satellites detected on atmospheric entry alone. Inside the atmosphere, an electromagnetic surveillance net like spiderwebs. And scattered energy signatures on the surface ready to intercept her ship on approach.
Even in decline, Reptilians are Reptilians. Frontal assault would be foolish.
Land on another continent first, assess the situation, check Reptilian remnant status. Simple mission. Or so Jenica thought.
A hill so low it's embarrassing to call it a mountain. Through dense trees, a city glows with lights below.
"A pre-superluminal civilization, I suppose. How utterly primitive."
Jenica sniffs at the city nightscape. This planet's primates still rely on internal combustion and basic power grids. Back home on Kepler-442b, that's outdated infrastructure for rural backwaters.
At this level, hiring locals as servants should be easy—
"First things first, I must hire a servant. These pitiful primitives would live like kings for a handful of credits."
A million galactic standard credits could buy a small moon here. Jenica has about 10,000—enough for a dozen primitive servants, easy.
She licks her lips and starts toward the city when—
Thud!
A deafening whoosh craters the ground near her ship. Dust settles to reveal a primate female. Red hair whipping in the wind, massive energy signature pulsing beneath. Heat haze shimmers off the red armored plates encasing her body.
And that odd outfit. Semitransparent mesh linking the plates, skin visible through it.
Jenica's first impression: Primitive pre-superluminal fashion—barbaric and provocative.
Second impression: ...That energy level is off for such a civilization.
But Jenica is a Kepler-442b recon officer. No reason to fear some pre-superluminal native.
"Oh my, a native with impressive reflexes."
Jenica twirls a twintail around her finger and smiles.
"You there, Sol-d primate female? I'll pay you credits to serve me."
The redhead ignores her completely. Instead, she raises a hand to her ear and presses something. A comms device, probably.
"This is Yeom Hana. Alien species and alien vessel sighted. Priority: secure vessel first, neutralize alien second. If neutralization impossible, eliminate."