“Then how do you explain his combat ability?” the Leader asked.
The researcher took a deep breath.
“That’s the part we’re least certain about. The target came from the Otherworld, and we know almost nothing about the Otherworld’s civilizational structure, the upper limits of individual ability there, or what Azure City’s observation program actually does to Otherworld lifeforms.” He paused.
“We can’t even rule out the possibility that he already had considerable combat ability before he was captured. He simply never showed it.”
The Leader turned to Zevran.
“Your assessment.”
Zevran was silent for a moment before speaking.
“During his escape, he had at least two chances to get close enough to kill me. He didn’t take them.”
That statement quieted everyone in the room for a moment.
“His goal was always to escape and destroy the data,” Zevran said.
“Not to kill. He knows what needs doing and what doesn’t.”
The Leader was silent for a few seconds.
“You think that’s good news?”
“I think it means he’s a man with a purpose,” Zevran answered calmly, “not a beast that’s slipped its leash.”
“A man with a purpose.” The Leader repeated the words, his tone giving nothing away.
“Is harder to deal with.”
He turned back to the researcher.
“Continue.”
“Oh, right,” the researcher said, pulling out another report, a flicker of barely contained excitement on his face.
“The guards brought back the remains of the exoskeleton armor the target used. The craftsmanship is crude, but the design concept is genuinely innovative. Weapons Development has already submitted a request to reverse engineer and improve on it. They’re asking for a dedicated budget.”
Finally, some good news.
The Leader’s mood lifted slightly.
“Money isn’t the issue, as long as they can deliver a finished product.”
The researcher nodded, tucked the report away, and returned to the original subject.
“Regardless, the target maintained a flawless disguise for six months while planning his escape, and he’s shown extraordinary tactical thinking and the ability to improvise on the fly. He’s the most dangerous test subject we’ve encountered so far.”
He paused, lowering his voice slightly.
“And also… the one with the highest research value.”
The other researchers in the room exchanged glances, something hard to hide flickering in their eyes.
The Leader noticed, but said nothing about it.
“The target is a special case,” he said slowly.
“Alive is preferable. Dead is acceptable.” He looked around the room.
“Until we’ve identified whatever variable made Keran go off script, suspend all ongoing Otherworld summoning projects. Run a full review on every existing test subject. I don’t want a second variable showing up.”
Zevran did not object.
Finally, the Leader looked at Zevran.
“You’ll lead the hunt.”
“Understood.”
“He won’t get far.” The Leader turned and walked toward the aircraft, his voice calm, like he was stating a fact that needed no discussion.
“An Otherworld lifeform, in unfamiliar territory, wounded, with no outside support.”
“Bring him back.”
“What about Azure City?” Zevran asked.
“How do we handle that end?”
The Leader didn’t turn around.
He was silent for a moment.
“Forget it,” he said.
“That man Frederick isn’t someone you push around easily.” He paused, a trace of cold mockery in his voice.
“Besides, if Azure City hadn’t summoned him over in the first place, where else would we have found such a complete specimen?”
With that, he stepped into the aircraft.
Zevran stood where he was and watched the aircraft rise slowly into the sky, until it vanished on the horizon.
…
Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, scattering broken patches of light across the leaf-littered ground.
A hand, caked in dirt and dried blood, pushed aside a tangle of vines, revealing Keran’s face.
Gaunt, but the sharpness in it hadn’t dulled.
Seven days on the run now.
In those seven days, he’d learned exactly how merciless the jungles of Star Abyss could be.
The right arm of his power-reinforced armor had died for good back in his final fight with the Black Hound captain, so he’d stripped the heavy armor off, salvaged whatever power cells and wiring still worked, and lashed them to his pack.
The sniper wound on his back and the gunshot in his calf were slowly closing thanks to endurance far beyond a normal person’s, but the humid jungle air kept the wounds flaring up with infection, and every step sent a spike of pain through him.
He had no painkillers, so he’d sterilized the wounds with a knife heated red hot over a fire.
The burn had knocked him unconscious for a full three hours. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
His military rations and clean water had run out two days ago.
He’d been trapping greytail rats to keep from starving and collecting morning dew off broad leaves for water.
Lucky for him, he hadn’t yet run into the most dangerous thing in this forest: the mutated Thorn Beasts, creatures covered head to tail in electrified spines that could tear through light alloy armor without much effort.
But even without those, the bloodsucking insects that swarmed everywhere were bad enough on their own.
Every inch of exposed skin was covered in red, swollen bites.
Keran had no map and no idea where he was.
All he could do was head toward wherever the stars rose each day, and at night he’d climb to the top of the tallest tree he could find to rest, a loaded pistol never leaving his hand.
He didn’t dare sleep deeply.
The smallest rustle in the leaves would jolt him fully awake.
Undercurrent’s hunters could show up at any moment, and nowhere in this jungle was safe.
“I need to find people. Fast.”
Keran licked his cracked lips.
He stopped in his tracks.
The bushes at his feet had been crushed flat, the sap at the broken stems still wet.
Scattered across the dirt were a few scorched leaf fragments, blast marks, and fresh ones at that.
Further ahead, several trees thick as a bowl’s rim had been snapped clean through at waist height, the breaks jagged, like something had rammed through them with brute force.
On the ground, a trail of dark red blood wound forward, still faintly steaming.
Every nerve in Keran’s body went taut.
Undercurrent’s people?
Or something else entirely?
He dropped low, gripped the pistol at his hip, and crept forward along the trail.
The further he went, the thicker the smell of blood in the air, mixed with something scorched.
After a few minutes of creeping forward, a burst of rapid gunfire erupted out of nowhere, then a second, then a third.
Panicked, frantic, mixed in with the low, guttural snarl of something alive.
Keran froze for a beat, holding his breath, then used the cover of the brush to move faster toward the source of the noise.
Some thirty meters off, through the gaps in the overlapping branches, he finally got a clear look at the scene.
A massive creature covered in black spines, its hide crackling faintly with electricity, had two people pinned down.
A mutated Thorn Beast!
The thing had several old wounds cut deep enough to show bone.
That explained the trail he’d been following this whole time.
Whoever these two people were, they’d clearly been fighting this thing for a while already.
A hulking man stood in front of a trembling, short-haired boy, shielding him.
The hunting rifle in the man’s hands was already empty, and he was uselessly using the barrel to block the beast’s whipping, thorn-covered tail, a wound cut deep to the bone on his arm oozing blood.
“This is my fault… this is all my fault…” The boy’s face was bone white, his voice cracking with tears, but he didn’t dare step forward.
All he could do was clench his fists and watch the man take everything alone.
Before Keran could piece together what had happened, the man staggered again.
The thorned tail cracked across his back with enough force to send him flying, and he slammed hard into a tree trunk.
The beast planted its thick limbs and turned toward the unarmed boy.
In that split second, Keran moved on pure instinct.
He ripped a grenade from his belt and hurled it.
BOOM.
The explosion tore open the creature’s flank.
The force of it knocked the beast staggering sideways, and it let out a roar of pain.
Keran was already closing the distance.
He unloaded his SMG into the cluster of soft tissue around the beast’s eyes, then, before it could drag itself back up, threw in several more grenades one after another.
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
The chain of explosions went off inside the creature’s body.
The massive thing convulsed a few times violently, then crashed to the ground and didn’t move again.
The jungle fell silent again, leaving only rolling black smoke and the sharp stink of blood.
Keran glanced over the now thoroughly dead Thorn Beast.
He checked again to make sure there wasn’t a second one nearby.
Only then did he walk toward the two of them.
The big man struggled to his feet, eyeing the stranger who’d appeared out of nowhere warily.
“Who… are you?”
Keran didn’t answer where he’d come from.
“Just passing through.”
Seven days into running, he’d gotten used to hiding everything.
A name he could give people.
Who he really was, he couldn’t.
The short-haired boy, Finn, stood frozen in place, his face flushing red then draining white, eyes locked on the sequence of near textbook-precise moves Keran had just pulled off.
The big man, breathing hard, forced himself upright, his eyes flicking back and forth between Keran and his nephew.
Something clicked, and his voice dropped into a furious hiss.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay at camp! Who said you could sneak out here!”
Finn hunched his shoulders, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I… I just wanted to come check the trap lines with you… I saw that thing chewing on a trap and I thought… I thought I could scare it off…”
“So you threw a fucking rock at it?!” The man was equal parts furious and terrified, hissing through his teeth as the movement pulled at his wound.
“Do you have any idea what that thing is! If this guy hadn’t shown up, the both of us would be dead in this jungle right now!”
Finn kept his head down, his eyes going red, and didn’t dare say another word.
Keran stepped forward and started binding up the wound on the man’s arm, glancing at the boy as if it were nothing.
Just a kid, impulsive, got himself into trouble.
Not exactly a mortal sin.
Once the wound was bound, the man finally got his breathing under control and looked the stranger over properly.
Whatever wariness had been in his eyes was slowly giving way to gratitude.
“Thank you. You saved our lives.” He got the words out with some effort.
“Name’s Garron. This is my nephew Finn. Kid’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
“Keran,” he said simply.
“What are you two doing this deep in the jungle?”
“Over the last six months, more and more monsters have been crawling out of the Abyss. Even the native creatures in this Black Forest have gotten restless.” Garron gave a bitter laugh.
“Our settlement’s trap lines have been shrinking. We came out today to check on them, and ended up picking up a tail we didn’t want.”
He shot Finn another glare as he said it, and the boy ducked his head even lower.
Garron was quiet for a moment, then said, seriously, “Friend, I owe you my life on this one. If you don’t mind, come back to our settlement with us. It’s not much, but it beats being out here. And those wounds of yours need proper treatment.”
Keran said nothing for a moment.
Reason told him not to trust any stranger.
But his body was near its limit.
His wounds needed real treatment, and if he kept pushing through the wilderness alone and ran into Undercurrent’s mechanized hunters, he wouldn’t stand much of a chance.
Food, clean water, a map…
He nodded, in the end.
“Then I’ll take you up on that.”
“Truck’s parked past the gully up ahead, not far.” Garron braced one hand against a tree trunk and gestured with the other, his steps still a little unsteady.
The three of them picked their way, unevenly, across a stretch of loose rock, and about ten minutes later an old off-road truck came into view, wrapped in a camo tarp.
Its body was covered in patchwork welding scars, a metal rack bolted to the roof for lashing down game and trap gear, the tires worn down almost past their tread.
And yet it sat there, planted and solid, carrying the look of something battered by the years but still tough enough to keep going.
Garron gave the hood a pat, like greeting an old friend.
“This old girl’s been with me almost ten years now. Those fancy hover cars they’ve got in the city don’t hold a candle to how tough she is.”
Finn scrambled into the back seat without being told, leaving the front passenger seat open for Keran, then leaned forward from behind, his eyes still sneaking glances at Keran he couldn’t quite hold back.
The engine let out a hoarse roar, the truck shuddering before finally catching and rolling smoothly forward, rattling over the potholed dirt road toward the settlement.
The whole ride, Finn never once took his eyes off Keran.
The grenades.
The way he’d fired his gun in one smooth, almost cold-blooded motion.
The way he hadn’t so much as blinked in the face of a monster that size.
All of it planted something close to worship in the kid’s heart.
“Are you… are you City Guard?” he finally blurted out, leaning half his body forward from the back seat to get closer to Keran.
“That kind of monster, it takes three or four of our best hunters at the settlement to bring one down, and you did it alone…”
Keran felt a little out of his depth.
In six months in Azure City, aside from Rufina occasionally striking up conversation with him, he’d barely had this kind of aimless, casual talk with anyone.
He was quiet for a few seconds.
“Just got lucky.”
Finn either didn’t catch the hint or didn’t care, and kept firing off questions with undimmed enthusiasm.
Where’d he get the grenades?
How’d he train his aim?
Was there something even better hiding in that pack of his?
Garron, one hand on the wheel, was getting a headache from the noise, and shot an irritated look into the back seat.
“Quit bothering him!”
Finn shut his mouth, looking sheepish, and sank back into his seat, though he still couldn’t help sneaking the occasional glance Keran’s way.
The old truck hit a shallow pothole, the whole frame jolting hard enough to rattle the trap gear hanging off the roof rack.
Outside the window, the dense forest streamed past.
Up ahead, wisps of cooking smoke were just starting to rise into view.