Chapter 162
I heard an explanation about the Firelight Saber from Jafa. His story piqued my interest.
"……Border City has a certain romance about technology."
"Not a madness for technology instead?"
Jafa didn't deny it and simply smiled. Even during my short stay, I could understand the very reason for Border City's existence.
The city was teeming with people who longed for unverified new technology.
In Border City, humans from the three nations, along with all sorts of other races, mingled together, pushing the limits without any censorship or regulations.
Absolute freedom is extremely dangerous. No nation would want an unstable bomb sitting in the heart of its capital.
'That's why Akbaran left the lower districts as its testing ground. The fruits born from chaos are always the sweetest.'
Border City was essential for the advancement of Planet Novus. Even if they failed a hundred times, as long as they produced one outstanding result, it was worth it. The sacrifices and chaos caused by failures would be borne by Border City, while the leaders of various nations and races would swoop in to claim the results for themselves.
"The Galactic Smiths were also a romanticist artisan group. They received massive investments from wealthy warriors and collectors, and with that capital, they sought to forge blades using a unique unreproducible metal called Ignum. That became the Firelight series."
On the inverted wall, a glass display case was mounted. Inside, a single-edged sword displayed a graceful curve. Beneath it, a matching scabbard was also on display.
"So, what's the problem with this weapon?"
I asked as I approached the display case.
"Unreproducible metals, as the name suggests, refer to metals that cannot be artificially refined or synthesized. While it's not exactly the same, they're sometimes called rare metals. The most notable characteristic of Ignum is heat amplification."
"Skip the useless explanations and just tell me what it does."
I cut Jafa off before he could go on for too long.
"It can envelop the blade in plasma energy. With the right technique, even a beginner can cut through metal. But inexperienced users often end up slicing off their own limbs while swinging it around. And every single accident caused by dropping the sword has been horrific."
A dry laugh escaped me.
"That's a common issue with weapons that enhance cutting power. The same goes for monomolecular blades. Is there a problem with heat control?"
I quickly got to the point.
"……The biggest issue in actual use was destruction and explosions caused by heat accumulation. Even the artisans of the Galactic Smiths didn’t anticipate this. Blades that couldn’t withstand the heat shattered, sending fragments flying and shredding faces to pieces. Sometimes, the weapon itself exploded, consuming the user along with it."
I tilted my head slightly and stared at the sword.
"Managing heat dissipation is the most fundamental aspect of designing heat-based weapons. And they call themselves artisans? Border City must be full of so-called artisans who are nothing but talk."
"The Galactic Smiths conducted internal testing and deemed it viable for practical use. But no matter how smart a person is, different perspectives create blind spots. That’s exactly why you need experts from various fields. Ultimately, the problem with the Galactic Smiths was that they had no warriors."
—To be precise, they had no first-rate warriors. That’s why they made such an absurdly stupid mistake.
En chimed in from behind. It seemed like a fairly well-known story.
"Hohooo… En is right. The people who would use such high-performance melee weapons are warriors who have reached the realm of superhumans. The Galactic Smiths had no understanding of just how intense those superhumans fought.
People who could deflect bullets, bombs, and even energy projectiles with a single blade were using these weapons. Because of that, heat buildup was several times faster than what the manufacturers had expected. Worse yet, the users actually liked it because the plasma effect became even stronger."
"Haha, sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."
No matter how grand the theories or how meticulous the planning, everything ultimately comes from human minds. Reality always surpasses our expectations.
"In less than a month, more than half of the buyers were either dead or permanently crippled. Naturally, the Galactic Smiths, who had sold these defective products, suffered retaliation. It was the result of their arrogance in believing they could control an unstable substance like Ignum. The remaining Firelight series swords are now owned by collectors who don’t actually use them."
The explanation ended. I raised my arm and slammed my fist against the display case.
Crack!
The glass shattered, fractures spreading tightly like ice crystals. The display case lost its structural integrity and collapsed with a crash.
"Weapons aren’t meant for display. They exist to be used. Destruction is a weapon’s destiny. These things are born to take lives and bring ruin."
……And so am I. Expecting only safe things while indulging in destruction would be an awfully selfish mindset.
I grabbed the hilt of the sword. Shards of glass tumbled down in a cascade.
"I will prepare a better weapon for you."
—It's useless. Just look at him. He's as stubborn as Tarfa. Once he's made up his mind, he wouldn't change it even if it cost him his head.
En shook his body with laughter.
"This is all your fault, En! T-This isn't the time to be laughing. Of all things, why did you have to bring up the Firelight story…?"
I spun the sword around and grabbed the scabbard as if snatching it out of the air.
Kiing!
The blade slid smoothly into the scabbard. The weight distribution was excellent, and the craftsmanship was superb. It was what people would call a masterpiece.
"I like this one. Now that I know the cause of its defect, as long as I control heat accumulation, there won't be a problem, right?"
Seeing me, Jafa nodded, as if he had nothing more to say.
* * *
I was now equipped with a combat prosthetic and a weapon. I also received a decent handgun.
Jafa's support exceeded my expectations. Even if his company was immensely wealthy, this wouldn't have been an easy decision.
Jafa and I sat in an upscale reception room, having a conversation. The carpet on the floor swallowed footsteps, and the walls were adorned with expensive-looking artwork and the mounted heads of unknown beasts.
"Jafa, how much do you know about Kinuan?"
I asked while sitting on the sofa. En wasn't here. It was just Jafa and me.
"Luka, I haven’t questioned you about every little detail of your life. People like us always have secrets. What's important is what we offer and what we gain in return.
I believe I've shown you enough goodwill. But if you still don't trust me and are trying to dig up my weaknesses under the guise of secrets, I have no choice but to be upset. Do I have any reason to trust you unconditionally?"
Hmm, I was momentarily at a loss for words. What would Kinuan have said? I felt like I had lost in terms of rhetoric.
Raising my hands as if surrendering, I spoke.
"You're right. There's no need to interfere too much with each other. You invested in me because you want to find Kinuan. And I personally want to find Kinuan as well. That’s what matters."
"Kinuan must not be killed. Bring him to me alive. This is the only thing I ask of you."
I tried to read Jafa’s emotions. However, it was still difficult to grasp the emotional cues of a non-human species. I needed more experience and study on the Tajirun race.
"I have a personal objective besides finding Kinuan."
"Is it because of Giselle Custoria's disappearance?"
I wasn't surprised. I expected Jafa to have figured out at least this much.
'Jafa has done extensive research on me. Given the circumstances, he must have realized that Giselle was the one paying for my medical expenses.'
I nodded and waited for him to continue.
"Hoyot, to be honest, I also investigated Giselle Custoria’s whereabouts in preparation for our deal, but…"
Jafa, despite his seemingly careless manner of speaking, was a deeply calculating individual. I had to assume he was always a step ahead of me.
"So?"
"…I also made inquiries about Akies Victima. It’s quite a peculiar combat technique—or rather, a way of thinking, I should say?"
"Both are correct."
"People who have mastered Akies Victima tend to have exceptional investigative skills. However, it’s only an ability to gather and process information more effectively. If there’s a complete lack of information, they can’t create something out of nothing. It’s not a Force ability that transcends physical reality. It firmly exists within the realm of understanding and cognition, which I find quite appealing."
Jafa had a solid grasp of what Akies Victima was.
Tap, tap.
Without realizing it, I had started tapping my foot against the floor. My body was betraying my impatience. The words "So, what about Giselle?" were stuck in my throat, ready to spill out.
'The old me wouldn't have shown such common emotional signals so easily.'
I reflected on my actions and performed a self-check.
I was definitely not the same as before. The abilities I once wielded seamlessly through embodiment no longer came to me naturally. It felt like I had to relearn and practice them one by one, as if I were studying them from a book.
'How did I suppress emotional signals before…?'
I had used the skill so naturally that I had forgotten the mechanics of it.
"I have employed five Akies Victima users in the past."
Jafa placed some photographs on the table.
One after another, I saw gruesomely damaged corpses. Flesh and machinery were tangled together in grotesque ways. Any weak-hearted person would have recoiled in horror.
"They died while pursuing Kinuan."
"This is Kinuan’s warning. He’s telling us not to chase him."
Jafa slid the photos toward me.
"I will share with you all the information I have gathered on Kinuan. That includes the records of those who came before you."
"And?"
I clasped my hands together and rested them on my knee, carefully observing Jafa’s every word and gesture.
"If you start investigating Giselle Custoria now, it will take you a long time to reach the clues and information I already possess."
"You’re saying you’ll provide information on Giselle Custoria as my performance bonus?"
"That’s right. You don’t seem like someone who moves for wealth alone."
How much did Jafa know about me and Giselle? My feelings toward her were the perfect leverage for someone to exploit.
I didn’t want him to see through that. This conversation should end here.
Srrk.
I reached my hand forward.
"The deal is done, Jafa."
Jafa carefully took my hand, mindful of his nails. His reddish-brown skin was cold and rough, like a cold-blooded creature’s. A visceral sense of disgust rose within me—one that even logic couldn’t suppress.
"Welcome to Jafa Company. Our motto is ‘a company that treats you like family.’"
* * *
I needed rehabilitation.
'Why did Kinuan kill the Emperor?'
I walked alone through the night streets, deep in thought.
'The last lingering question.'
I could understand other people’s motives and reasoning. But Kinuan still tormented me.
'Was it really Kinuan who killed the Emperor?'
I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. The official cause of death was old age.
But circumstantial evidence pointed to him. And if Kinuan didn’t kill the Emperor, then that in itself was part of his scheme. He wanted me to think that way.
The Kinuan inside my mind was a grotesque, ever-growing monster. The more I thought about him, the larger he loomed. It felt like he was watching me from above, laughing.
I lifted my head and scanned the bleak streets. Every city had districts like this.
A sinister alleyway where crime gathered as if it had legs of its own. I deliberately stepped into the broken backstreets.
Kang, kang.
My foot hit a discarded can. The clattering sound drew attention.
Sensing danger, my senses sharpened. I had no idea who might attack me. More and more eyes followed me from between the alleyways and windows.
It felt as if the gazes were connected by invisible threads. The intensity of their hostility and murderous intent seemed to manifest in distinct colors.
I was pleased—my mind was razor-sharp. Even if those watching me opened fire, I felt confident I could dodge the bullets. My brain was still useful, it seemed.
'Why is Kinuan in Border City?'
He had left the Empire and was now within Bellato Federation territory.
'Why?'
The deeper I thought, the more my head ached. A dull pain throbbed at the bridge of my nose.
'Take it slow.'
Tonight was rehabilitation, Luka. Start by training your mind.
I lifted my gaze from the ground. A man stood in the middle of the alley.
Kang!
The sound of metal clashing rang out as our fists collided. His fists were as solid as hammers, and he was massive.
'Gabriel?'
No, I was mistaken. He wasn’t Gabriel—he wasn’t ugly enough. He just had a similar build and atmosphere. That classic back-alley thug vibe.
"Hey, pal. This is a toll zone. Maybe you took a wrong turn? If you did, I can guide you back…"
Fake Gabriel babbled as he approached me. He draped an arm over my shoulder, grinning slyly.
"Did I take a wrong turn?"
I spoke dryly, staring into the darkness.
"No, no. Not too wrong. After all, you met me, pal. Damn, those shoes and that coat look nice."
Fake Gabriel patted my chest and then tapped my chin with his thick fingers.
"How’s Gilda doing?"
"Huh? Gilda? Hmm, Gilda? Who’s that? Was that my old girlfriend’s name? Just kidding, buddy. Got dumped, huh? Was your ex’s name Gilda?"
Fake Gabriel rambled nonsense while slipping his hand into my coat.
He pulled out my handgun and widened his eyes. The gun had a hefty electronic component attached beneath the barrel, its circuits glowing softly.
"This… This is an auto-tracking pistol? Why the hell do you have something like this…?"
He looked shaken. The gun had an auto-tracking system certification mark on its side. This wasn’t a weapon an ordinary person would be carrying around.
"Step back five paces and aim at my head. It’s in lethal mode, so even if you aim carelessly, the bullet will go straight between my eyes."
"N-No, no. Hey, man, I’ll just g-give it back, alright? Damn…"
Fake Gabriel hurriedly tried to place the gun back into my coat.
Crunch!
I extended my foot and crushed his left knee.
His organic leg shattered as easily as if it had exploded, and blood splattered onto the ground with a wet slap.
“U-Ugh, ack, I-I was wrong, boss, boss! P-Please, spare me. Haa, kuh!”
The presence of others around us faded, one by one. They had realized I wasn’t someone to mess with and disappeared into hiding.
"Gabriel, don’t make me say it twice. Aim at me and shoot."
I stepped back and tapped my forehead.
Fake Gabriel, still clutching his shattered leg, glared at me with a face twisted in pain and rage.
"You fucking lunatic! If you wanna die, just fucking do it alone!"
He raised the auto-tracking pistol and pointed it at me. In lethal mode, the bullet would automatically home in on my critical weak points.
I focused. If I couldn’t pull this off, then I might as well die here.
Ta-aaang!
By the time the gunshot rang out, it was already over.
…You survived another day, Luka.
Chiiiiiik!
Between my fingers, I caught the bullet.
The round, trapped between my index and thumb, spun rapidly, releasing a thin trail of acrid smoke.
Tracking rounds had longer bullet tips compared to regular ammunition. The rear end was even equipped with stabilizing fins.
Kang.
I dropped the now-motionless bullet to the ground.
Exhilarating. The world felt sharper, its colors more vivid. For the first time in a long while, I felt alive.
Really, I was beyond saving.
Fake Gabriel stared at me in stunned silence, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. He had forgotten his pain—he didn’t even think to pull the trigger again.
"Hmm, impressive performance. It flew straight for my forehead, making it easy to catch."
I snatched the auto-tracking pistol from his trembling hands and tucked it back into my coat.
“I-I’m Gabriel! My name is Gabriel!”
He curled up, shaking uncontrollably.
I walked past him without another word.
Step, step.
The thrill was fleeting. The world, momentarily brightened by the rush, quickly darkened again.
That damned leech of despair was eating away at me, gnawing at my insides.