Chapter 21
Chapter 21
I thought it was a sin not to look again even at a fire that had gone out
* * *
When I entered the cargo hold with the girl, my eyes were met with an overwhelming amount of luggage.
The storage racks rising like spires were divided by zones, so at a glance they looked orderly, but to me, who had no information about them, they felt like a vast open sea.
Moreover, it was not just the passengers’ belongings.
In most cases, space passenger ships doubled as interstellar delivery vessels. There were quite a few packaged parcels as well.
In fact, that was the part I had been hoping for.
There was this much. If I was lucky, there should have been at least one or two items that had slipped through customs.
As I focused on examining items with a high level of sealing, the girl approached and asked,
“What are you looking for?”
“Something that could be used as a weapon.”
“I’ll try looking too.”
The two of us immediately began searching, but we failed to achieve any notable results.
“I thought there’d be at least one smuggled weapon, but they’re unexpectedly thorough.”
“We’re getting blocked in the most pointless place.”
Well, it was a space passenger ship operated by the municipal government. Getting half-involved meant nothing short of wanting to die.
“Still, there has to be something. It’ll just take time for the two of us to find it.”
It was then that my temples began to tingle.
Someone was coming.
If we stayed still, we would run into them.
I slung the girl over my shoulder and threw myself into a blind spot where deep shadows lay.
“Why…….”
“Shh.”
No sooner had I covered the girl’s mouth than someone entered the cargo hold.
There were four of them.
‘A pregnant woman, a young man and woman, and an old man.’
They were all faces I had seen in the cabin. They were the group that had seized the space passenger ship by helping the boy.
They walked with practiced steps to a storage rack and opened one of the cases lined up in a row.
Inside was expensive equipment.
There was a combat coat equivalent to MUG—1, and even firearms were fully equipped.
If I rushed out and forced hand-to-hand combat, I could take them down, but I also had to consider the possibility that what I could see was not everything.
Hadn’t the boy committed murder using a slot installed in his own body?
For me, erasing the traces of my passage was just as important as subduing the rampaging group.
Unfortunately, the drug that broke down specific base sequences, ‘Nuclase’, was inside my trunk bag.
For now, I had no choice but to refrain from rash actions and observe. If they achieved their objective, they would leave as well.
However, contrary to my expectations, the four instead began moving in perfect unison around the storage racks, pulling out other cases.
As the contents piled up neatly, I frowned.
‘Units?’
If ‘slot’ was a term that collectively referred to implanted internal devices, then ‘unit’ referred to externally mounted equipment. Broadly speaking, prosthetic arms or even swords could be considered types of units, but in practice, no one really made such distinctions.
It gave off a strong impression of being an extension of cutting-edge equipment.
The unit the four of them were assembling was the same.
Before long, the uneven parts fit together exactly like a puzzle, forming a single shape.
A spherical-jointed doll with beautiful curves, as if it had been realized by faithfully following the formula of the human body. At a glance, it looked like an object, but what was embedded inside was undoubtedly the fruit of a highly advanced civilization.
‘A full-body prosthetic?’
The mechanical body already had ominous equipment mounted on it.
However, the truly important head was missing.
I thought one of the four might personally become the sacrifice, but to my surprise, a fifth person revealed himself from a completely unexpected place.
When the pregnant woman opened her swollen belly, a man’s head appeared from inside. It looked as though he had been relying on life-support equipment while simply waiting for the right time.
Click.
At the moment the final piece fell into place, a blast of hot air swept through the hold.
The appearance of a passenger not listed on the boarding manifest.
In some ways, it could be called clever.
If they brought a full-body prosthetic into the cargo hold in a disassembled state, it would be recorded as mere parts.
Sure enough, I could feel the girl’s shock.
I was no different.
‘A cyborg.’
A being that had replaced over 90 percent of its body with machinery through cybernetics surgery.
In the early days, it had been considered as a way to overcome the obstacle of disability, but by now, it was a rare approach.
Entrusting one’s mind to machines rather than flesh was not as easy as it sounded. One had to suffer from all kinds of mental illnesses due to an indescribable sense of alienation, and ethical issues were raised as well.
Moreover, wasn’t there an alternative technology called genetic manipulation?
Becoming a cyborg could truly be called the worst possible choice.
And yet, the fact that it still survived as a concept meant there were advantages that outweighed those drawbacks.
That advantage was the ability to transcend human limits.
It was ironic, almost cruel, that technology developed to allow a more human life ended up forcing one to abandon humanity itself.
It was then that a monotone voice flowed from the cyborg’s mouth.
“Where is the clothing?”
“It’s here.”
The pregnant woman, whose belly had caved in, held out a combat coat.
As if it were only natural, the cyborg accepted the offering and checked the armaments without sparing her a glance. It was a scene that made the superior–subordinate relationship between the two unmistakably clear.
“What about the plan?”
In response to the cyborg’s question, the man answered.
“It’s going smoothly. Just as expected, the rat bastards are all holed up on the bridge, holding out.”
“Good.”
It was then that the woman who had let out a sigh added,
“However, it seems that one of the passengers has escaped. We’re currently searching.”
“There’s no time for hide-and-seek. Communications are cut anyway, so they won’t be able to call for support, right?”
The cyborg shook his head as if it were not worth a second thought and ordered a retreat.
“Wasting time only creates variables. Once our objective is achieved, we’ll blow up this space passenger ship anyway.”
No matter how capable the Mars Defense Force was, without witnesses or evidence, they wouldn’t know what had happened.
“Winter, you stay behind and plant the bombs in the cargo hold.”
“Understood.”
Leaving only the old man, Winter, behind, the four disappeared in an instant. The cargo hold, bustling just moments ago, was dyed in silence.
Perhaps the taut string of tension had finally snapped, because the girl’s shoulders trembled slightly. It was likely because the vague aura of death she had felt now seemed right at hand.
Regrettably, this time I couldn’t help but feel fear as well.
If the space passenger ship exploded, I would become a drifter in space.
For someone who couldn’t die, it was a fate more horrifying than death.
I would probably have to roam the endless universe and live a life close to eternity, all while tasting pain pushed to the limits of what my nervous system could endure.
There was no doubt that despair incomparable to anything I had experienced so far awaited me.
‘Is this why they killed so mercilessly.’
They had never intended to leave anyone alive from the start. When the ending was already decided, what difference did it make to add one or two more bodies?
Letting out a hollow laugh, I rose from my spot.
I had to stop them before they achieved their goal. That was the only way out.
By chance, one old man was left alone, working. He would serve well as the signal flare announcing a counterattack.
Leaning my upper body forward, I suddenly sprinted.
Tap!
Reacting to the unexpected sound, the old man, Winter, turned his head, but it was already too late. I had closed the distance to point-blank range.
An unexpected situation had arisen, but Winter showed no sign of agitation and hooked his index finger onto the trigger. He was a seasoned veteran. His body reacted before his mind could even register it.
However, as if I had been waiting for it, I slipped my finger into the trigger guard and suppressed the gun just as it was about to fire.
Then, with my remaining hand, I grabbed the barrel.
Creak.
“What….”
Winter ruthlessly threw away the rifle that twisted like clay and tried to draw the combat knife hanging from his thigh—
“Looting isn’t bad either.”
—but it had already been seized by me.
Even so, Winter did not flinch. The suit he was wearing was an item equivalent to MUG—1. It was not something an ordinary blade could penetrate.
Because of that, Winter instead lunged at me, but I grabbed him brutally and slammed him down.
“Urgh.”
In an instant, the veteran was forced to his knees, bowing his head.
I wrenched Winter’s arm behind his back and stabbed in with the combat knife, pinning him so that the two parts of his body couldn’t separate.
Only after the outcome was clearly decided did the girl appear and chatter away.
“That was close. That man was trying to contact his other companions with a device. If I hadn’t blocked it in advance, it would’ve been a big problem.”
With a snort of laughter, I tossed the item clenched in my hand to the girl.
Degururu.
It was the device I had torn off right after closing in.
“……I was just saying.”
Realizing her worry had been unnecessary, the girl awkwardly scratched the bridge of her nose.
Winter alternated his gaze between the two of us, grasped the situation, and let out a sigh.
“So it wasn’t just one person, but two. That was unexpected. What kind of magic did you use?”
“I think it’s a sin not to look again even at a fire that’s gone out.”
“Hah, troops dispatched by the municipal government, is it? But you’re too late. That person has already awakened.”
His tone sounded like he was deeply mistaken about something, but I didn’t refute him.
The one who needed to answer wasn’t me, but Winter.
I stepped on the combat knife and smiled broadly.
“Then since we’re already late, let’s have a little chat. How much you brought in here, and what you’re aiming for.”
* * *
The captain of the E—401 space passenger ship, Ion Lowell, let out a low groan. It had already been an hour since the ship had been seized by an unidentified group.
He wanted to check the situation outside, but interference from a Tuner made it difficult.
“What about the Mars Defense Force? Still no contact?”
“Yes. Even when we try to reroute through the emergency communication network, it won’t connect.”
It seemed that the only solution would be to go out personally and eliminate the source of the problem. But that was a poor option. The moment the tightly sealed door was opened, the hostile group would rush the bridge.
Fortunately, the bridge was designed to remain intact even if the space passenger ship exploded. Setting aside secondary matters like oxygen, food, and gravity.
In other words, as long as they didn’t open it, they were safe.
“You’re still holding out?”
Suddenly, the boy’s voice flowed through the speakers.
“That makes seven now. Just how many passengers have to die before you’re satisfied?”
“We do not negotiate with terrorists. Still, you never know. If you restore communications to their original state, we might at least be able to submit a request to the municipal government.”
“Ah, really.”
A scream followed behind the tone, as if he had lost interest.
Even without seeing it directly, Ion could guess what had happened, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Don’t forgive me, even in the generations to come.”
Someone else vanished meaninglessly, but Ion never wavered. It was because of the advice given by the space security officer who had sent a message as soon as the incident broke out.
What they were after was—
“An unidentified object is approaching.”
Snapped out of his thoughts by the operator’s report, Ion rose from his seat.
At the same time, a hologram appeared above the omnidirectional cognition panel.
Overall length 60 meters, displacement 80,000 tons, cruising speed 340,000 knots.
“Out-of-class judgment. The vessel is not recorded in the database.”
A spaceship drifting outside Mars with no identification number?
There was only one thing that could mean, and gasps spilled from the crew’s mouths.
What was approaching was not the Mars Defense Force.
‘Space pirates?’