Chapter 167
I must have felt some aversion to killing at first.
But I had forgotten when that feeling had disappeared. The moment I recognized someone as an enemy, I could kill them without hesitation.
Was it due to my innate aggression, or was it the training and enhancement procedures from my cadet days? I already knew the answer. It was both.
The past was just the past. It didn’t matter what kind of person I used to be.
Right now, I was a combat machine, a human optimized for battle. If I took one more step forward from here, I would truly become a "machine."
Ta-ang!
The moment I pulled the trigger, a gang member who had just reached the top of the stairs collapsed. As long as I roughly aimed for the head, the bullet would fly straight between the eyes.
The auto-tracking pistol was incredibly convenient. I didn’t have to worry about aiming—I could focus entirely on evasion and movement.
More than anything, it was the perfect weapon for me, someone who wanted to reduce the load on my brain.
‘Thinking about it, not replacing my eyes was a wise decision.’
Cybernetic implants, no matter the body part, increased the load on the brain’s nervous system, and high-performance cybernetic eyes were particularly demanding.
But biological eyes had their own drawbacks. Their performance was inferior. Right now, I was missing a lot of visual information—so much that even the retinal display couldn’t fully compensate for it.
The gang members rushed into the corridor, recklessly pulling their triggers. A barrage of suppressive fire poured down the hallway.
Tudududu!
I hid behind the corner of a wall, waiting for the hail of bullets to subside.
Without cybernetic eyes, I couldn’t immediately identify their firearms, ammunition types, or even the manufacturers—basic specs that I would have registered instantly in the past.
…With less visual information, it was like the resolution of the world had dropped. If I wanted to observe fine details, I had to focus as if enlarging and enhancing a blurry image.
‘Everything has pros and cons.’
With less visual data to process, my brain’s endurance had improved. Even in this heightened state, with combat hormones accelerating my cognitive functions, my head felt lighter than before.
Creak.
I cautiously extended my pistol around the corner and waited. The gun’s built-in auto-tracking system identified targets and calculated trajectories.
Beep.
A "ready" indicator appeared on my retinal display. The pistol’s barrel adjusted minutely, refining its aim.
Bang! Bang!
I lightly squeezed the trigger twice. The auto-tracking pistol’s specialized rounds had tail fins, allowing them to curve in mid-air.
The bullets traced an elegant arc before burying themselves in the gang members’ skulls. By now, they must have realized what kind of weapon I was using.
“Shit! What the hell?!”
“Auto-tracking? What kind of fucking bullshit is this?!”
The remaining gang members were flustered. An auto-tracking pistol was an extremely expensive piece of electronic equipment—a luxury item that only the wealthy could afford.
‘Its bullet speed is slow, and aiming takes too long.’
Considering its price, it had too many fatal flaws. It was useless against superhumans with enhanced reflexes.
After confirming my weapon, the gang members took cover below the stairs, refusing to come up as they chattered among themselves.
“Hey! Forget about what’s happening outside and focus on the treatment!”
I shouted toward the back of the operating room.
‘Damn it, Gabriel. What kind of bullshit did you pull to make me go through this?’
Just thinking about Gabriel pissed me off. I wanted to wake him up right now and slap him across the face.
“Call the ‘Cleaner.’ They’ll take care of it.”
The word Cleaner came up in their conversation.
Whoever was coming, I had to hold this position until Gabriel’s treatment was complete. A tense standoff continued.
The three remaining gang members didn’t run.
‘No choice, then. If reinforcements pile up, things could get complicated—I should thin their numbers now.’
I broke cover and advanced.
Bzzzz.
I expanded my sensory range, perceiving my surroundings as if drawing a circle around me.
As my thought speed increased and my perception deepened, time stretched like thick, sticky honey.
The gang members screamed as I approached, their voices dragging sluggishly in my ears.
They blindly extended their arms and fired.
Srrk.
I observed their arms and the angles of their gun barrels, predicting the trajectories. As long as I didn’t place myself along those lines, I didn’t have to worry about getting shot.
Step, step.
I tilted my head. The bullets whizzed past my ear and embedded themselves in the wall.
I continued descending the stairs, and the gang members kept pulling their triggers. Their bullets kept missing, slamming into the walls instead.
“H-He dodged?!”
It had been a while since I heard such raw shock. Their ordinary reaction actually felt refreshing.
Creak.
I strolled up to the nearest gang member and slammed the butt of my pistol into his jaw. His jawbone shattered, and his broken front teeth scattered onto the floor. One down.
“Y-You bastard!”
Another gang member, standing beside him, bravely aimed his gun at my temple. I extended my foot slightly, striking his hand and gun upward.
Crunch!
His fingers shattered like brittle twigs at the touch of my foot. Before he could even scream, I reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair.
Crash!
I drove his face into the wall. Two down. Only one left.
“Ugh, a-ahhhhhh!”
The last remaining gang member threw down his weapon and bolted toward the window in an attempt to escape.
Creak.
I raised my auto-tracking pistol and aimed at him. A simple pull of the trigger would put a hole in the back of his head.
Srrk.
But I lowered the gun without firing. This wasn’t the kind of fight I wanted.
Dull.
They weren’t enough to satisfy me. It sounded insane, but… I needed an opponent strong enough to put my life in danger.
My body, which had just begun to heat up, ached with unfulfilled desire.
This was maddening. The more I experienced these weak provocations, the more intense my craving became. It felt like the threads in my mind were tangling together. I had the urge to put a single bullet into a revolver, press it to my head, and pull the trigger.
I recalled the days when I walked the blade’s edge with my heart exposed. The brutal missions that the Empire and the Imperial Guard had once given me—I missed them.
Enough of these insane thoughts. I could control myself.
Step.
I turned and climbed the stairs. I needed to check on Gabriel’s condition in the operating room.
Shaaah.
A sudden ringing, like the whisper of a dawn breeze, spread through my ears. A chill ran down my spine.
"Hah…"
I let out a short, breathy laugh.
Akies Victima's intuition was warning me.
The sensation was so familiar that it almost brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t know exactly why, but I was in danger. Something was hunting me.
Analysis and understanding could come later. Right now, I had to trust my instincts. In a battle where even time was sharpened to a razor’s edge, reason and logic always arrived a step too late.
Crash!
The stairs beneath me crumbled, and a rough, powerful hand shot out from below.
A pair of wild, yellow eyes stared up at me.
Tap!
Before the stairs fully collapsed, I leaped up, pressing my foot against the ceiling. Before gravity could drag me down, I drove my fingers into the surface to anchor myself in place.
Hanging from the ceiling, I looked down.
Between the shattered floor and broken stairs, I caught sight of my attacker.
This must be the Cleaner the gang members had mentioned.
'An alien species.'
A strange extraterrestrial creature stood there. Its muscular arms were covered in coarse fur, and its sharp claws curved like deadly scythes.
This alien had smashed through concrete with its bare hands. Its body resembled a feline predator from the Carnivora order—a savage hunter’s gaze locked onto me.
It was massive. At least four times my volume. Beneath its thick fur, its entire body was rippling with raw muscle. The minimal combat suit covering only its vital areas made it look even more barbaric.
'A Crawler.'
I muttered the name of the feline alien species. Like the Equessian, it was a warrior race. If the Equessian was cold steel, then the Crawler was like scorching rock.
“Grrr…”
A low growl from the Crawler reached my ears. The raw, animalistic stench of its wild nature sharpened my senses.
I was human. Since ancient times, humanity had feared beasts of prey. This was instinct. Regardless of strength or weakness, I felt my body momentarily freeze.
'Interesting.'
I was probably smiling. My fingers twitched.
A gun or a blade.
Which should I choose?
No, forget it.
Crack.
I clenched my fist and dropped down toward the Crawler.
* * *
The fight was brutal. I intercepted its attacks with my arms and legs while countering in return.
Honestly, it was exhilarating. Every time a jarring impact resonated through my bones, the world seemed to light up. I felt truly alive.
But perhaps choosing not to use a weapon had been arrogance on my part. The Crawler endured the full force of my prosthetic arm and leg—limbs powerful enough to shatter concrete—with nothing but its bare body.
It seemed to be a particularly strong specimen, even among Crawlers.
But… I wasn’t just any strong human. I was an elite soldier from the Accretia Empire, one of the ruling nations of Planet Novus.
No matter how skilled a mere back-alley Cleaner was, at the end of the day, they were just a gang member.
Creak, creak.
I rolled my shoulders and rubbed the back of my neck. The vibrations from pushing my prosthetic arm to its limit left my muscles aching and sore. My bones felt like they were groaning.
"That was pretty fun."
I nodded as I spoke. Whether the Crawler understood me was another matter.
It sat slumped against a cracked wall. Despite its massive size, its labored breathing was weak and frail. Every time my fists and kicks had landed, its bones had fractured and its muscles had torn, but it had continued fighting relentlessly.
Only after suffering injuries so severe that it could no longer move did the Crawler finally stop. Its resilience was incredible. If it had been any other species, it would have died long ago.
‘Its durability is insane.’
I ran a hand over my side. The Crawler had only grazed me with its claws, yet my coat and clothes had been shredded, and my flesh was deeply lacerated. When I pressed my fingers into the wound, I could feel the warmth of my own exposed organs.
"Hm."
I climbed the stairs to the operating room where Gabriel and the medical staff were.
"H-How… how are you… still alive…?"
One of the medical staff stared at me with wide eyes.
The Crawler’s roar had been deafening. Everyone in this building had likely heard our battle.
"How is he?"
I rummaged through the medicine cabinet as I spoke. A dispenser filled with liquid bandage caught my eye.
Shaaak!
I pressed the nozzle lightly against my side wound and injected the liquid bandage. The white substance spread over the internal and external wounds, hardening as it sealed them.
“H-He seems to have made it past the critical stage. But this is only symptomatic treatment, so we can’t be sure how his condition will progress. He should be taken to a better-equipped hospital for a thorough examination…”
The medic spouted the obvious. His legs were trembling violently with fear.
I tossed the empty dispenser aside and steadied my breathing. The savage impulse I had felt from fighting the Crawler had mostly subsided.
I stood beside Gabriel, who was lying on the table. I could feel that his condition had stabilized.
His complexion had improved significantly, a soft flush returning to his face. Around the operating table, syringes and a defibrillator lay scattered on the floor.
"Hey, wake up. I don’t feel like carrying you for miles. You’ll start attracting flies."
I reached out and lightly smacked Gabriel’s cheek. His eyebrows didn’t even twitch.
"H-Hurk! Hiiik!"
The medic let out a shriek and scrambled into a corner—not because of me.
“Grrrr…”
I turned my gaze toward the door.
The Crawler, whom I had left half-dead, was standing there. It could barely stay upright, using the wall for support, but it was still shockingly resilient.
"What? You wanna go another round?"
I narrowed my eyes and spoke. The Crawler shook its head.
“Krrrk.”
It gestured toward the hallway, as if telling me to follow. It seemed to be offering me a place to hide. My intuition told me I was right.
"I’m bringing my ‘friend’ with me."
I jerked my chin toward Gabriel.
“Krrrk.”
The Crawler stepped forward and hoisted Gabriel onto its back. If I had carried him, his legs would have dragged on the ground. But when the Crawler carried him, the sight was surprisingly natural.
As we stepped outside the hospital, two gang members who had arrived as reinforcements peeked at us from behind cover.
“Kaaaarrrrk!”
The Crawler openly displayed hostility toward them. The gang members panicked and pointed accusing fingers at it.
"Y-You’re a Cleaner!"
"A damn Cleaner dares…!"
They spewed curses but didn’t dare attack.
The Crawler in front of me had endured my blows—there was no way an ordinary firearm could stop it.
"There are injured comrades inside. Even in the backstreets, you take care of your own, don’t you?"
I pointed toward the hospital building, giving them an excuse to avoid a fight. The two gang members hesitated before reluctantly sneaking inside.