Beyond Human Limits
With every preparation complete, Jincheon sent Calsira and Heliane away and turned to face Confedon's Saisalas.
"I'm ready. Come whenever you like."
"Then die!"
Jincheon crooked a finger in invitation. Confedon floored the Saisalas's engines and charged.
Sseeeeeek!
Fast!
In pure speed alone, it rivaled Jezer's Lexerei. Jincheon watched the Saisalas close the distance in a blink and, without a flicker of panic, kicked his thrusters and slid aside. The Saisalas shot past the Gareld—and made no attempt to turn and pursue.
A machine that poured everything into raw velocity.
He had known the Saisalas's turning radius was poor. He had not imagined it would be this bad.
Clack!
From the Saisalas's back, as it streaked past the Gareld, twin gun barrels snapped out.
Pipipiping!
Short blue laser bolts stitched toward the Gareld in rapid succession. Jincheon, who had been angling for a rear attack of his own, had never expected the Saisalas to carry that kind of armament. He dodged late.
"So that's it. They gutted the turning performance and armed the rear instead."
"Jincheon! The Saisalas is—!"
Heliane, who had fought with the Anti-Zabalcan Alliance and knew the Saisalas's loadout, started to warn him.
"Enough. When the skill gap is this wide, a little handicap just makes it more fun."
He cut her off and locked his attention on the fight. After weaving clear of the tracking laser fire, he answered with his laser rifle, punching shots into the Saisalas's back.
Chijijik!
The beams struck true—and a shield bloomed, cutting their power in half. The weakened lasers only flushed the armor red and melted a shallow scar.
Tough. Getting more interesting by the second.
True to its heavy-assault design, the machine was rock-solid. Jincheon kept dodging the continuous laser fire and answering shot for shot, but every beam the shield halved only scorched the outer plating. Nothing punched through.
"Attacks like that will never kill me!"
Confedon throttled back, swung around, and thrust both arms toward Jincheon.
Pushoot!
The fists above the wrists ignited and rocketed forward. At first glance it looked like a standard rocket punch—
"Hm?"
The moment Jincheon raised his laser rifle to shoot them down, the fists split apart.
Wire?
Thick cables had been hidden behind the fists. Jincheon eyed the two diverging punches with fresh caution.
Pipiping!
Gun barrels mounted on the backs of the hands spat short laser bursts, hosing the Gareld. Unfazed, Jincheon danced left and right on thrusters and slipped every shot.
Not panels… but a cheap knockoff of the same idea.
Watching wire-tethered fists chase him while spraying laser fire, Jincheon felt a nostalgic flicker of the mecha shows he had watched on Earth. A smile tugged at his mouth.
"I want it."
Less agile than the Gareld, but superior in firepower, armor, and speed—and loaded with enough attack options to set a mecha-lover's collecting instinct on fire. Jincheon started calculating how to take the Saisalas as intact as possible.
Driving straight into the center of both arms, toward the chest, would be ideal… but something about this feels wrong.
The enemy was practically offering up its empty torso, inviting the attack.
Sitting here trading shots is just a waste of time. Might as well walk into the trap and see what happens.
Jincheon hated boredom. He slammed the boosters and drove straight between the two fists as they coordinated their laser barrage.
Got him!
Confedon cracked open the Saisalas's chest armor. Behind the sliding plates, a vast aperture glowed with building power.
"Die!"
Confedon hit the trigger. A plasma scatter charge erupted from the chest.
Peopeopeong!
Green plasma masses burst outward like shotgun pellets. At the same instant, missile ports on both shoulders yawned open and loosed their payloads.
At this range, no amount of speed will—!
Confedon had conceded that Jincheon was skilled. Even so, at this distance, he expected at least one plasma pellet or missile to land.
Hunghunghung! Peongpeongpeong!
"Wh-what the hell is this!?"
Jincheon spun the Gareld's frame, snapped left and right, slipped every plasma burst, and shredded the missiles with machine-gun fire—all without easing off the thrusters, still at full burn.
Is this bastard a monster…!?
It felt like a nightmare. Even Jezer could not have dodged cleanly at this range. Yet Jincheon was weaving through the scatter fire without taking a single hit, boring straight inward. His eyes had already mapped every trajectory and velocity; the calculations for where and how to dodge had been finished long before the shots arrived.
"Uwaaaaaaah!"
Confedon roared and slammed his boosters, charging head-on.
"I'll make sure you never pull that fancy crap again!"
In a flash he reeled the wires back, recovered the fists, and a hexagonal shield blazed blue across the Saisalas's front. He meant to ram the Gareld to scrap with a full-body shield charge. Even bare hull-to-hull, the heavy Saisalas held the advantage—and with the shield at full output, the impact would be catastrophic.
Kwaaaaaa—!
The Saisalas came on, shield maxed, ready to crush him. Jincheon abandoned the laser rifle and opened up with the 95mm machine gun. Most of the rounds spanged off the forward shield; a few slipped past.
All the shield coverage is concentrated forward.
Confirming that the Saisalas's barrier covered only the front of the upper body, Jincheon discarded the machine gun and drew his laser sword.
That toy will never crack the Saisalas's shield!
Confedon was certain Jincheon would dodge, and he was already setting up the follow-up. As expected, the Gareld banked hard upward.
Now!
Confedon prepared to hose the rear laser guns—
Gone!?
The rear cameras found nothing.
Beep-beep-beep!
A heat signature flared from below. Warning lights screamed. Confedon dropped his gaze—and saw the Gareld driving a laser sword straight for the cockpit.
The instant it had climbed, the Gareld had accelerated harder still, spun around the Saisalas's body, and locked in underneath. Even a body rebuilt with full cybernetics or astronomical bio-enhancement could not have endured that kind of speed.
"You… you… what the hell… are you!!"
The way Jincheon pulled aerobatics at a velocity that shattered human limits—without shedding a fraction of speed—felt less like fighting a man than something else entirely. If Confedon himself had moved like that, red-out would have dropped him cold: centrifugal force driving blood into the skull until the capillaries of the eyes and brain failed, the world turning crimson, and, at the extreme, cerebral hemorrhage.
Confedon, who had never known fear in his life, felt it now—his final emotion in this world—as he watched Jincheon dance through the void at a speed no living creature should survive.
Jincheon's laser sword punched clean through the armor and melted Confedon's body in a wash of searing heat, aimed with perfect precision at the cockpit.
"Better machine than I expected. I was ready with a follow-up if that hadn't finished it."
Jincheon allowed himself a note of satisfaction: Jezer's laser sword had punched through the Saisalas's heavy armor all the way to the cockpit. Irony of ironies—Confedon, who had charged in to avenge Jezer, had died on Jezer's own weapon.
With Confedon's death, the war ended in complete victory for Jotala.
Word of Confedon's death spread in an instant. Of course it did—everyone had been watching the duel. The Confedon pirates, their fighting spirit utterly broken, were disarmed to a man. They had already declared surrender, but watching their boss die snuffed out whatever will to resist remained.
Jotala ordered the surviving Confedon remnants detained. She would need to persuade them into her service. Pirates could not conscript troops the way a nation did; the victors absorbing the defeated was simply how things worked. The rank and file were one matter—officers could not be recruited so casually. Jotala intended to handle that persuasion herself.
She had the Confedon Family officers assembled. Her fleet was still systematically securing Confedon's ships as a precaution, so gathering the officers would take a little time.
Notably, Gebel—who usually never left her side—was absent. While she worked on the officers, he was overseeing overall command against any contingency. The Crymal fleet had fled, but a victory-drunk force could still be hit in a moment of laxity, and someone among Confedon's people might refuse to accept the outcome and go berserk. So Jotala, whose charisma and rank made her the natural recruiter, had come to the hangar in person.
"You people are the absolute best!"
Before the officers had all arrived, Jotala met Jincheon's group in the hangar and poured out praise. Calling the victory almost entirely Jincheon's work was no exaggeration. Calsira and Heliane had each tilted the battle in their own sectors, and turning a whole zone of the fight by yourself was proof of real skill—but set against Jincheon, the achievement inevitably lost some of its shine.
"Let's settle the deal first."
"What's the rush? We're throwing a victory party. Why not enjoy yourselves a little?"
Having taken Jincheon's measure, Jotala spoke in a softer, coaxing tone than before. It did not work on him.
"Sorry. I've seen too many people change their minds between walking into a bathroom and walking out."
"Tch. Fine, fine."
Jotala transferred 1.2 million credits to Jincheon. He split 400,000 each to Calsira and Heliane. With the money settled, Jotala slipped in a recruitment pitch.
"Why not stick with us? With you three helping, we could take this whole star system."
"Appreciate it, but no. I'm not looking to belong anywhere yet."
"As free mercenaries, making this kind of money would take you a year or two. We already know what you're worth, and—"
"I want to see the galaxy. Building a faction or joining one is a problem for later—when I've made enough enemies that it starts to matter."
The steel in Jincheon's voice told Jotala persuasion was hopeless.
"Haa… what a waste."
"Actually, I've got one proposal—"
Jincheon had started to make an offer when a transport craft entered the hangar.
"Boss. All Confedon Family officers are assembled."
The transport carried Confedon's officers.
"Understood. Whatever the proposal is, can it wait? Confedon's people have about as much patience as their late boss."
"It's not urgent."
The war was over; Jincheon had no reason to hurry. He nodded.
A short while later, dozens of officers filed down from the transport in restraints.
"We already know each other well enough, so I'll keep this short and sharp."
Jotala addressed them with composed dignity.
"Serve under me, or—"
"Die!"
One of the Confedon officers surged to his feet. His right arm had been severed above the elbow—and a long gun barrel sat in the stump. The guards had stripped their weapons and taken measures to suppress cybernetic activation as a precaution. Somehow the officer had nullified those measures and fired the large-caliber railgun implanted in his arm.
Kaaang!
"Boss!"
"!!"
Jotala flinched at the sudden ambush and squeezed her eyes shut.
"…Huh…?"
"What…?"
"……?"
No pain came. Only startled voices. She cracked her eyes open—and saw something she could barely believe.
Jincheon had appeared in front of her and caught the round between his index and middle fingers. Smoke curled from his fingertips under the bullet's furious spin.
"Sorry. We just won a nice clean victory. I don't intend to let it get spoiled like this."
"You… you son of a bitch! I'll—!"
The open channel during the Confedon duel had shown both sides Jincheon's face. Recognizing him only stoked the officer's fury; he tried to finish the job. Jotala's guards swung their muzzles up—but Jincheon was faster. His inner energy coiled around the man.
"And you may not have seen my card, but any fight with me is a mecha fight. Consider yourself a warning."
"Ghk! G-ghk!"
The officer's body rose into the air, floating as if seized by invisible hands, dark marks blooming across his flesh.
"In your next life, learn to accept a loss cleanly."
Ujijik!
Jincheon closed the outstretched hand into a fist. The officer's body crumpled—flesh and blood wrenched into a single tangled mass. Even so, not a drop of blood escaped, as if held by something unseen.
"Leave it like that and the cleaners will have a miserable time."
With a considerate thought for the janitors, Jincheon focused his eyes. The mass of meat began to compress into a sphere.
Kkudeuk! Kkujijik! Kkudeudeudeuk!
Blood, flesh, and organs crushed under overwhelming force. In moments, what had been a human being was a fist-sized sphere. Jincheon settled the floating ball into his palm. No special martial art—just Heogongsbeomul, the void-grasp, squeezing an object with pure force.
"Hey."
"Y-yes!?"
One of the guards, still stunned by the impossible scene, answered like a raw recruit.
"Dispose of it."
"H-hiiik…!"
Jincheon handed over the sphere that had been a person. The guard took it—and for all the people he had killed in his life, pure terror seized him. The wet, ground-meat texture was almost unbearable. Worse still: Jincheon had crumpled a man to death and packed him into a ball without ever laying a hand on him.
Gebel… saved my life…
Only now did Jotala understand the source of the fear Gebel had carried. The thought that they themselves could have died the same way sent a chill through her.
"So… that proposal you mentioned earlier… what was it…?"
"Hm? Aren't you going to persuade those people?"
"Uh… well… this seems a little more urgent…"
Recruiting Confedon officers could wait. Keeping Jincheon happy could not. Jotala found herself agreeing, free of charge, to repair the Saisalas Confedon had used. She could tell herself it was the price of the life just saved—but beneath that rationalization sat a raw fear of something that transcended the human.