Chapter 302 ·Monster Hunting (1)

Monster 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󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄂Hunting (1)

"Put the target in the center, switch. Put the target in the center, switch. Put the target in the center, switch...."

It wasn't clear if Nadia was sitting in the chair or just slumped over, but she stared vacantly into space, flicking her index finger as if pulling a trigger. She wasn't holding anything, though.

'Her eyes are dead.'

I remembered her green eyes always sparkling with hope, no matter how hard things got. Those eyes, which used to carry an air of innocence, now had sunk into darkness. It was the kind of look that might say, 'Give that innocence to the dogs.' Strangely, it reminded me of a pilot I didn't even know.

Ever since Licorice had taken Nadia to the simulation room for training, that's how she'd become. And it hadn't even been more than a day and a half since then. She'd turned into a mess.

「(ง ◉_◉)ง」

Carry, who had run the simulation with Nadia, was in a weird state too. The guy was even lying sideways. He was in a pose ready to spring into battle at any moment.

If I recklessly approached, I might get hit. Carry wasn't swinging her auxiliary arms or using her boosters, so it seemed she was in this state of her own will. What on earth had happened in there?

With trembling eyes, I looked at Licorice—likely the culprit behind this scene. Whether she realized my feelings or not, Licorice was tinkering with the simulation equipment.

Frankly, if there hadn't been any maintenance needed, Nadia and Carry might not have been freed from those devices today at all.

The simulation equipment was a collaboration between Licorice and Orca. Orca had provided the design blueprints, and Licorice had customized it herself. I understood that Orca had also written the system code.

There was no denying how much work Licorice and Orca had put in. It wasn't something easy to make in the first place. If it had been, we would've built it a long time ago.

I heard that Licorice's mystery was used in building the equipment. I didn't know exactly what kind of strength that mystery possessed, but I remembered how Licorice couldn't hide her exhaustion each time she used it.

'Unless she was getting some sleep, anyway.'

It was only recently I'd found out that Licorice had been pretending to sleep while actually logged into the management device. Continuously doing work that demanded such focus without a proper break was anything but easy. Licorice never said it was hard or acted like she didn't want to do it. She just quietly kept on.

That made me feel even more grateful—and sorry, since I had no way to help with my abilities. But aside from those feelings, I couldn't resist commenting.

"... What did you do to Nadia and Carry, exactly?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Do you think I made them do some bizarre training?"

"......"

Unable to come right out and say yes, I just stayed silent, and Licorice let out a snort.

"Hmph. All they did was a standard interception drill."

"An interception drill? You mean not practicing movement with a Sabre attached?"

According to what I heard from Kyle, the Sabre wasn't originally designed to be used in the atmosphere. Its basic structure wasn't meant to have more than one attached.

Forcing on a rocket booster—one that alone boasted enormous speed—was already a crazy idea. It would take exceptional control skills to handle that.

With no experience, you could crash into the ground the moment you launched. And with a very high probability at that.

Since we had so little time left before the final, inevitable operation, I found it odd to be doing interceptor training rather than practicing Sabre control.

"We're doing directional change drills in a high-speed assault environment—killing two birds with one stone. You know the Invasion Tree won't just let us break through. You saw it too. There were major gravity anomalies around its location."

By "the guy,"

Licorice obviously meant the Invasion Tree.

"Ah."

"All sorts of obstacles will get in our way. Because of the speed difference, we can't use live ammunition, but we can use laser-type weapons. Trajectories could be warped by its strength, but at least we won't get counterattacked."

Licorice warned intently that even brushing up against one of those floating objects would mean far more than just getting scratched.

Objects traveling at such tremendous speed would repel minor debris before it even approached, simply because their velocity imbued them with great energy.

But that only applied to regular debris. The gravity anomalies were side effects from the Invasion Tree's momentum core operating.

As a result, all sorts of floating or falling debris would be spatially anchored, and if the rocket collided with such a hazard, it would explode instantly—or so Licorice explained.

"I know it's an unreasonable drill. It's just called a simulation, but it's pretty much like experiencing the real thing. Constant failures, repeated restarts, cumulative mental fatigue, the pressure of not having enough time—and amidst it all, your senses get hyper-sharpened from tension. It's extreme stress. I did induce it, to some degree."

Licorice clicked her tongue, Tsk. Because she'd designed the simulation, no one knew better than she did that she was demanding the near-impossible from Nadia.

"But we have to do it. We don't want to die in the air. It's not just Woof-woof's life at stake. Yours, mine, and that woman from Myosotis, too. One misstep and everything we've done so far will go up in smoke."

She added that there weren't even 48 hours left now, and her gaze drifted to the simulation equipment.

"It's Woof-woof's will to run the simulation. Even I wouldn't force someone. If the person themselves doesn't want it, no amount of simulation matters."

The hologram showing the system stats displayed how many times the simulation had been run so far. The number easily passed three digits.

I quietly watched the hologram, large enough to require scrolling through all the data. At first, there weren't enough accumulated records, so most entries were failed attempts that didn't even move past the very start. Many didn't last a minute.

But that wasn't all. The sessions were growing longer. Some had even nearly reached the Invasion Tree.

When I touched the display, a video popped up. Just after a failed breakthrough attempt, the panels all around had gone black from lost signal, and in the middle was Nadia, gritting her teeth and analyzing everything.

Not frustration—anger. A rare, almost never-before-seen emotion from her. It made me feel odd. Before I knew it, my eyes lingered on Nadia, exhausted and barely hanging on.

"Ugh...."

Nadia was about to slide off the simulation chair. Even as her eyes clouded and she lost focus, her hands kept moving, as if she was mentally running another simulation.

'She's never succeeded even once.'

But even taking that into account, all these attempts—hundreds of records—served as proof. She'd failed countless times, but still showed no sign of giving up and didn't plan to. Nadia, for all her frailty, had remarkable tenacity.

I closed my eyes for a moment. I didn't ask Nadia if it was hard. Some things you don't need to ask to know, and if it had been easy, she wouldn't be suffering like this. Still, I didn't say "good luck" or "I believe in you."

Instead, I spoke of a future just a little further ahead.

"... When we get to Earth, let's enjoy everything we missed out on here. Who knows what the situation will be, but we should at least get a short breather."

Nadia reacted. She perked up her ears, and that alone showed she was listening to me.

"Since you like sweets, let's go get real egg pudding. We have lots of credit saved, so we won't worry about money—we'll wipe out the dessert stalls. Pudding, chocolate, whatever! We'll totally flex."

Every dessert I listed brought a bit more life to Nadia's eyes. She always bought store snack chocolate, saying it was delicious. They sold sweets in Titan's residential area too, but most were just cheap imitations, so Nadia always dreamed of real desserts.

"Desserts... that sounds nice. But are you only taking her?"

Licorice, listening in, cocked her head and threw me a look. Her eyes said, 'You wouldn't leave me out, would you? If you want to survive, it better be no.' I snickered.

"Of course we'll go together. And since you care more about the atmosphere, let's pick somewhere with a nice scene. Actually, there's no need to search too hard—anywhere will look better than here."

When I said I'd treat everyone for the occasion, and that I'd handle reservation if needed, the dissatisfaction on Licorice's face vanished. She still snorted, Tsk.

"Hmph, I'll make the reservation. You two just follow me. You'll get ripped off acting like country bumpkins on an outer satellite. It's one thing if you want to overpay—but I won't stand for getting conned."

"You haven't left Titan either, Licorice."

"What? Are you saying I'm a bumpkin? Have you lost your mind?"

"... No, not at all... Okay, okay! Don't look at me like that. You're scaring me."

Seeing Licorice glaring daggers, I quickly waved my hands in surrender. Almost got myself killed with that comment. While she and I bickered, Nadia drifted into her own daydreams.

"... Sweet desserts and beautiful scenes. That sounds great, really. I'm so sick of hard bread and blizzards."

Nadia, regaining her composure a bit, straightened herself and agreed with me.

"I miss the store-bought chocolate... Why is emergency ration chocolate so flavorless? Stuff like this shouldn't be called chocolate at all."

Nadia cast a resentful glance at the brown brick on the nearby table. It was actually a bar of chocolate, with teeth marks visible at the corner.

A patch on the surface had clearly been melted, as if she'd tried to eat it that way. Apparently, she'd just abandoned it halfway through.

"They make it tasteless so people don't eat too much unnecessarily."

"I get it, but it's just cruel... To do that with food—ahh...!"

Suddenly, Nadia hunched over with a groan in the middle of her complaint. Aftereffects of excessive simulation. Since mere visual experience wasn't enough for proper training, the simulation gear imparted a physical sense of load, to boost learning.

It wasn't real, but it felt like it. No marks were left on the body, but the sensation was imprinted on the mind. And since Nadia had a bio-circuit, she felt it more acutely, leading to phantom pain.

I hurried closer, wanting to at least rub her back. But I stopped short; if I touched her, I might only make it worse.

While I stood there awkwardly, Nadia slid her head against my stomach. Carry also glided across the floor and added a helping hand.

"Hyun-woo, I believe in you. So you believe in me too."

"I always have."

I finished gently caressing her head. My fingers ran through her fluffy blue hair and slipped away.

Apparently, Nadia liked the gentle touch—her tail twitched, though it wasn't lively enough to swish. Eventually, she lifted her head and, as if stretching out her stiff body, reached her arms up slowly.

"Okay-. That's enough of a break. Licorice, are you done with repairs?"

"Just finished. It's not shoddy work, but it's not super durable, so try not to throw it around."

"Understood. It's not like I did it on purpose last time—I was just surprised by the unexpected overload."

Even though Nadia had braced herself, she admitted she'd panicked at how intense the load was. She'd barely managed to adapt; otherwise, she said, she'd still be covered in cold sweat and out of her mind.

"The load was that strong? Odd. I never drop you straight off a cliff. You followed the settings I gave you, right? First gradual intensity, then real-world mode—"

Licorice checked the settings, looking puzzled. Then she stopped mid-sentence. I watched as her gaze swiped quickly across the monitor—suddenly, a training mode that hadn't been there before appeared.

"... Licorice?"

Shocked, I called her without even realizing my mouth had dropped open. Licorice pretended not to notice, coughing deliberately, and then handed the device to Nadia as if nothing had happened.

"Uh, guess it must have been those near-real settings. If the current load's too much, you can lower the intensity a bit. I just reprogrammed it to allow that."

"In that short time?"

"It wasn't hard."

Of course not. The function had always been there. She'd just made a hidden feature visible after noticing her mistake. My silent shout didn't reach Licorice. Or maybe it did, and she just brushed it off.

With a strangely gentle expression—uncharacteristic for her—Licorice smiled. Others might see it as encouragement, but I knew: she was just forcing a smile to cover her own mistake.

Even set to maximum, the load probably wasn't enough to threaten the user's life. At worst, it was simply an error caused by fatigue.

Given how careful she was, if something really dangerous had happened, Orca would have let us know. That helped calm me down.

"You have talent. You'll make it."

"What? That's so cheesy, suddenly... But thanks all the same."

Nadia tilted her head, then let a small smile slip. I couldn't bring myself to tell her, "You've just been fooled."

"You, come with me."

Licorice grabbed my hand, shooting me a death glare not to argue.

"... Right now? But I came to try the simulation myself. You told me I should experience it once."

I protested. I really did want to try it, too.

"Too bad, that's the only piece of equipment. It was really—no, extremely hard to build."

For Licorice, who never complained, to say that—it really must have been tough. She pulled me along, clearly not letting me argue.

"Don't distract Woof-woof, Lee Hyun-woo. Just follow me for today."

"Wha—?"

"Take care, Hyun-woo. See you later. I'll bring good news!"

Nadia waved weakly as I was dragged off. She soon turned her attention to Carry, who was still lying on her side.

"Come on, let's go again! Let's succeed this time!"

「ヾ(°∇°*)」

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