《Age of Space [Dark Sci-Fi]》


 Chapter 1: First day at Ironglades!

    - ¡°As humanity began spreading across the stars, our internal division became greater than ever. By the time we began colonizing moons, planets and asteroids in Sol, our first home system''s internal divisions already threatened to wipe us out on numerous occasions. Nuclear weapons, stealth-cloaked asteroid strikes and bioweapons were all used, lending support to the great filter hypothesis. It was widely believed at the time that the lack of alien contact stemmed from intelligence either not forming, or, if it did, they wiped themselves out when they reached a sufficient technological threshold.¡± - Gavenic Merle, PhD.


    [Planet Concordia - Manufacturing planet, Lobar sector 54B]


    [Ironglades City]


    [Year 3421 A.I. (After Interstellar exploration)]


    Ronin woke up with a spring in his step. This was the day! He had actually gotten accepted into the Space Force Academy, and this day, was the first day of attendance.


    He turned on the government issued optical implant and looked over the class schedule:


    MAT 1002: Mathematics of orbital dynamics.


    PHYD 1032: Introduction to sub-light propulsion.


    PHYD 1045: Introduction to FTL (faster than light) travel engines.


    And finally, the course behind all of his excitement!


    SPD 101: Introduction to spaceship construction.


    Spaceships! Whether it be designing them, constructing them or driving them. Anything related to spaceships was maniacally obsessed over. Not only was it the only way off world. It was the best path to riches, into the military or into becoming a celebrity in the racing circuit. With a gleam in his eyes, he glanced over the numerous wallpapers draping the room he was living in. Every single one of them depicted a spaceship of some kind. This was his future now! He put on his secondhand school uniform which had taken the better part of half a year to save up to, gulfed down a cold meat-flavored stick of synthpaste, closed the door and entered the gravity assisted jet-bus heading off to school.


    ¡°Hey Ronin! Right on time. We¡¯re just about to take off,¡± Dino the bus driver said.


    Ronin had gotten free rides on the bus for over a year after helping Dino out with navigating the city. He¡¯d always been good at that. After seeing something once, no matter where or what, he remembered it. Even the entire enormous 3D-metropolis which was Ironglades was firmly imprinted onto his mind. All he had to do was look it up on the holomap and bam! He remembered it. He was the only one in the neighborhood without an augmentation implant who could do it, well, not like anybody had those implants. Those things were for the rich gods up high, living in the upper zone.


    ¡°Yeah, can¡¯t miss the first day! The academy is my ticket off this planet,¡± Ronin laughed back at the bus driver.


    A flash of acknowledgement shone in Dinos''s eyes. Everyone knew this was a shithole, especially where Ronin lived. Generally, the only way out of the suburbs was in a body bag.


    ¡°Best of luck,¡± Dino responded as the bus took off, rising up from the megacity digging deep into the planet.


    As neon lights, brothels, casinos and industrial facilities passed by the bus window, Ronin mentally nudged his optical implant, turning on the local news channel of Ironglades.


    ¡°..Mayor Brunstein denounces the recent terror attacks on transport lines. Quote: If these individuals actually cared for our planet''s independence, they would not commit these atrocious and heinous acts against the civilians of this city. This is barbarism with makeup on and not legitimate in any way. If these terrorists are serious about change, they should turn themselves in¡­¡±


    Ronin yawned. Those CLM roughnecks aren''t letting up at all I see.


    The news screen shifted and the latest spaceship model ready for commercial sale came up on screen. A man in a lab coat adjusted his safety goggles as he began commenting on how his company had achieved a 3 % increase in sub-light speed without increasing neither the mass of the ship, nor the cost...


    Ignoring the chatter, Ronin began planning out his new academy life: The scholarship should pay for mostly everything, but as for leaving my apartment and moving into a college dorm?


    No. he wouldn''t do that. The apartment was all he had left from his parents. He''d rather continue to pay rent and preserve what little remained, than leave it behind for a government sponsored dormitory.


    As the light outside the windows changed from artificial light to the red tinted natural light of Concordia''s sun, the bus exited the deep planetary trench and began speeding up. Ronin checked the time: 10 minutes before the ceremony starts. The jet engine of the bus began to ramp up as a soft female voice started counting down: [Strap yourselves in, engaging thrusters in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.]


    VHROOOM!


    The g-forces rapidly doubled as Ronin was squeezed deep into his seat. This is it, the rush!


    As the bus soared through the city, it quickly reached the academy, but time was tight.


    Still high in the air, Ronin opened up a nearby side window on the jet bus, then jumped out before the vehicle could begin its own descent. He couldn''t wait. This was pretty much the only day the academy required mandatory attendance, and if he waited for the bus to dock, he''d be too late.


    As the gravity of the planet pulled him down, he quickly sped up, activating the academy suits miniature jetpack before landing in the assembly area.


    Immediately people began to stare, and Ronin could see guards coming over. This did not bode well.


    ¡°Hey you! Stop!¡± One of the guards shouted, pointing directly at Ronin.


    Another guard quickly followed up, ¡°what the hell are you doing you maniac!? Jumping in with a jetpack on school grounds?!¡±


    As the principal of the Space Force Academy began the opening speech, Ronin was busy getting fined. How was he supposed to know? There were no laws against jetpack assisted landings where he grew up.


    ¡°...As you all know, your enrollment into this academy makes you the best and brightest in Ironglades City, however out of the 5000 of you who have enrolled, only 900 of you are expected to finish. Pilots in training flunk out the most, but to you future spaceship designers... a diploma is not enough, for a future career worth something, you must excel in¡­¡±


    As the Principal continued on, Ronin had thrown the issue of earning credits to the back of his mind and began looking around the assembly area. Grass! there was actual grass here. And not only was there grass, but trees as well, something so rare, he''d only seen those on the Concordia network before. Looking further ahead, various buildings appeared. One building in particular, being several kilometers long, looked like an enormous rectangular block. That''s the ship hangar! Ronin inwardly exclaimed, his hands shaking in excitement.


    ¡°...¡±


    As the opening ceremony wound down, the students were led towards their respective classes¡­


    Ronin followed along the other students, eventually arriving in front of the lecture hall. As he walked through the door, his optical implant pinged:


    [Ding! Student Ronin confirmed for attendance, access to syllabus granted]


    Great! Now that I have access to the syllabus, I can learn it by myself. Until I manage to earn the credits needed to pay for that damn fine, going to class is a big no go from now on.


    Planning to only show up for the semester exams and practical''s, Ronin began reading the book: Introduction to spaceship construction.


    Hmm, scrolling through the book, the actual requirements needed to begin constructing a spaceship became clearer.


    This was going to be a lot of work, just obtaining the necessary baseline knowledge would require years of work. Never mind the math, physics and materials science involved in spaceship construction, the amount of stuff he''d had to know just to do the computer programming, was already enough to make him balk.


    The dream of designing, let alone crafting a spaceship by himself went down the drain. Spaceships, especially the larger ones, were enormous. Hundreds of people normally cooperated on the relatively small models, such as a corvette. Larger models however, such as a cruiser, would require at least 10 times that. Seems I will have to start with the smallest models out there, maybe a pod or a shuttle?


    Ronin began pondering... The media never portrayed the difficulty behind actually getting a viable spaceship company up and floating. When digging into the details, doing something like this alone was pretty much impossible. The licenses, finances, the logistics involved, heck, just finding a market was not something a street rat from the slums could do. Most likely, even if he did well in the academy, he¡¯d be slaving away for years for another company, fighting for scraps and building competence while the big shots at the top raked in all the payout from his hard work.


    This won''t do! If it''s my work, all the funds should belong to me!


    Ronin scrunched up internally, his outlook on society turning more cynical.


    I need funds, I need a marketing strategy, I need a gimmick! But beyond anything else, he needed credits. It was the only way he''d be able to pay for the equipment he''d need to make ships on his own. He knew he had to be realistic, but at this rate he¡¯d never achieve his dream. His eyes turned bloodshot as he steeled himself: By hook or by crook I¡¯ll get those credits. For now, the best path forward is patents. If I can invent something groundbreaking, I can rake in the capital needed for both a factory and the licensing costs.


    ¡°Mr. Ronin! Are you ok?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    Startled, Ronin exited his internal world realizing the whole classroom was staring at him.


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    ¡°Uh, yes,¡± he responded, laughing awkwardly while scratching the back of his head.


    ¡°Dude, if you need a toilet break just say so,¡± A brown haired spinkly student beside him helpfully reminded.


    ¡°What toilet break would that be? I¡¯ve never seen someone so tense before! Even his eyeballs were about to pop out of his face!¡± Another commented, causing the class to erupt into laughter.


    ¡°Alright, that''s enough, quiet down,¡± the teacher interrupted, before continuing, ¡°the next one making noise will have their points subtracted."


    The students quickly quieted down after that, and the teacher pulled up another hologram, continuing the lecture, ¡°now onto the different engine types produced by Ironglades¡­¡±


    As the lecture went on, some extra reading materials were recommended. In addition, the various localities for practical work, as well as some general information on where the pilots and designers usually stayed was also mentioned.


    Most of the information could actually just be downloaded with the implant so Ronin decided to just head home. Now that he had a student pass, he headed for one of the communal shuttles.


    ¡°Free of charge,¡± He hummed in contentment as he boarded a shuttle, a slight smile spreading across his face.


    As the engine on the shuttle ramped up, a student walked up and nervously sat himself down besides Ronin.


    ¡°I''m sorry about earlier, I didn''t think they¡¯d take that comment and make a joke out of it¡±


    Ronin took a closer look at the student. That''s the spinkly fellow from the first lecture.


    ¡°You mean the toilet comment, right? No problem. If I¡¯d really had to go, you¡¯d smell it, not see it,¡± he quipped back.


    ¡°Hehe, name is Marvin by the way,¡± the spinkly guy chuckled back as they shook hands.


    ¡°By the way, that opening ceremony sure sounded ominous. It didn''t exactly make our future look optimistic. Not if we want to make it as spaceship designers,¡± Marvin continued.


    ¡°Yup, most of us will probably end up as simple mechanics working under the real designers in the future,¡± Ronin agreed.


    ¡°That''s why networking is so important! The more friends and connections we develop during our time at the academy, the more access to both logistical channels as well as potential manpower we get. Where else but here can we find so many people involved in the industry? This is a golden opportunity!¡± Marvin began, turning more and more excited as he talked.


    "Right! That''s actually a good point!" Ronin nodded in agreement.


    As the two new students got to know each other better, the shuttle began leaving the lonely singular green patch of the academy grounds behind.


    In a dark corner of Ironglades, a crooked figure stood up, his old technology radio buzzing: [We are a go, commence Operation Lightfall.] Half man, half machine, no eyebrows, half his scalp covered in metal plates and black-market electronic chips, Reaper loaded up a rocket into the launcher.


    He¡¯d been Alex before.


    Alex had been weak.


    Alex had been naive.


    Alex hadn''t known.


    Something emerged when you tore the veil and looked behind the facade. Something cruel...miserable... hopeless. This planet should have been called Purgatory, not Concordia.


    He was Reaper now; he was part of something bigger. He was awake and this operation would wake others.


    ¡°Tyrants of Concordia. Let''s see what you do when you lose your precious space force academy!¡± He spat. He¡¯d been unnoticed, irrelevant, thrown to the wolves. Every time he tried to make something of himself, the state had stopped him, the state had monitored him, the state had suppressed him. He was supposed to stay down like the irrelevant dog he was.


    But all this did teach him something. When he broke the law, they cared¡­ When he broke the law, they noticed. They would notice now; they would care now! As the countdown over the radio reached 0, he, along with many of his brothers in arms picked out the most vulnerable buildings and shuttles, got a target lock on the scope, then launched the first payload. The first of many more to come!


    ¡°Fall!¡± he cursed along with many others over the radio.


    As Ronin was well into a discussion with Marvin, he suddenly caught sight of something outside the window. It can''t be, can it?


    BOOM!


    A nearby shuttle exploded into flames! Missiles, hundreds of missiles were coming up from below!


    BOOM!


    He saw a nearby building shake from the blast as another missile hit. The building began collapsing.


    The shuttle began swaying, he could hear the shuttle driver panicking. Ronin briefly looked over at Marvin. He was unresponsive, shocked into fear. All Ronin saw was fear and panic everywhere.


    He cursed. None of these people would be of any help! He steeled himself, and began looking around for a solution¡­ There!


    The emergency exit! He legged it, firmly grasping the door handle, and pulled with all his might. The door wouldn''t budge!


    He tried again. Come on!


    He dug deep, deeper than ever before and-


    POOF!


    Both Ronin and the door flew out of the shuttle. Free falling through the air, he glanced around. He saw the shuttle he''d just escaped from... he also saw the missile heading directly towards it. Jumping off the door to gain more distance from the shuttle, he glanced up again, only to see both the shuttle and Marvin go up in a ball of fire. The shockwave propelled him downwards. Below, more rockets were still coming.


    Activating the jetpack, he tried to maneuver out of the way but took a glancing blow from one of the rockets. Fortunately, the academy suit¡¯s single use energy shield activated, saving his life. No longer caring about where he was, he burned the jetpacks fuel supply, racing towards Ironglades more distant megastructures. As long as it was in the opposite direction of the missiles, the direction didn''t matter!


    ¡°...¡±


    After gaining some distance, the missiles were still coming, but they were now further apart, and he could dodge them as long as he remained vigilant. However, another issue arose.


    BEEP! BEEP!


    His implant alerted him of his academy suit''s critical fuel supply. The installed jet pack was only supposed to be used in short bursts to assist landings. Ronin had been using it to fly around in the air like some kind of bird and it had never been designed for that. Crap!


    He immediately turned off all the functions of the suit. Gritting his teeth, Ronin reached for the only idea available: Looks like I''ll have to dodge missiles while free diving towards the ground.


    Adjusting his body, he altered his fall trajectory by moving his hands and legs, somehow still dodging the missiles. Fortunately, the missile barrage had tapered down by now, making them much easier to maneuver around.


    He quickly reached terminal velocity. Buildings flashed by on both sides as he reached further and further into the deep artificial metal valley. The sides of the valley began closing in on him, beginning at 70 km from one side of the valley to the other, it narrowed to 50 km, then 25 km, 10 km.


    He could see the ground now, and at this speed, if he activated the jetpack too late, he¡¯d end up as a flat stain smeared across the rocks below. Too soon however, and the fuel would run out before making landfall, pretty much killing him just the same. Oooh, maaan, I wish I had some goggles, this wind blasting my eyes is not making this any easier!


    Waiting until he didn''t dare anymore, he activated the jetpack on full blast.


    VHOOM!


    BAM!


    Finally landing on the ground, Ronin felt an uncomfortable electrical signal travel from the bottom of his feet into the depths of his spine, then braving even further, it went all the way into the core of his soul!


    That was a hard landing, too hard, hopefully nothings broken, he thought as he began slowly circling around the area, trying to straighten himself. His gait was awkward and bowled, his back was also strangely crooked as he tried to walk himself back into shape. Ugh, don¡¯t think I broke anything, but I feel like a cripple.


    Organizing his thoughts he sighed inwardly, what in the world was that¡­ Who could have committed such a strike? It couldn¡¯t be the government... The only ones that stick out are the CLM, but weren''t they just some small-time terrorists? All he''d heard about this group, was them doing some minor damages to transport lines, some use of 2nd grade incendiaries¨Cbasically fireworks, ¨Cand a couple of hacks of unimportant public institutions.


    This was a military scale insurgency, not some small-time crime anymore!


    Oh, and Marvin, the first friend he¡¯d made that was NOT a slum dog, was killed only a few minutes after their friendship started.


    Dammit!


    He began looking around trying to figure out where he was¡­This¡­ I remember pretty much every area from here to my home, but this valley should have ended 10 kilometers up. Nothing of what he saw was recorded anywhere on the Concordia network.


    The valley further up looked like a combination of housing units and an abandoned mining site merged into one, at this unknown lower level however, it looked like a mining site heavily fortified for combat. In front of him there was an entrance further into a dark mine. Behind him there were fortifications, weapons and people? Hang on, why are these guys carrying rocket launchers!? They are looking my way now too... aaaand now they¡¯re pointing at me


    Not thinking any further, Ronin hobbled his way towards the mine shaft as fast as he could. This was not what he signed up for at all, he just wanted to become a ship designer!


    As Ronin entered the mine shaft, he began regretting not buying a light source addon for his now, battery drained academy suit. His optical implant was not of much help either. There seemed to be some sort of interference in the valley stopping any sort of signals from getting out. As he felt his way ahead in the mine shaft maze, the path he was on began to slope downwards. Stumbling his way ahead, he continued on.


    Time ticked by in the monotonously quiet tunnel. Ronin, alone with his mind, began pondering: Such a deep channel, entirely abandoned and without light, how many of these were there on Concordia? Also, how was it that there was enough air to breathe down here? He didn¡¯t mind, but he¡¯d heard of people suffocating in much shallower mines. Was it due to the width of the tunnel? Why did these people attack on the very first day the academy opened?


    It struck him then¡­


    Mandatory attendance.


    Each year, the very first day the academy opens, everybody has to show up for the ceremony. That means more people to kill and-


    There seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel! After what must have been over an hour of stumbling downwards into the abandoned mine, how could there be light down here?


    Is this the path out? He wondered. Did I walk all the way through the mountain over to the other side? No, this was not the red tinted light of the sun. This light was golden, it was something else, something unnatural.


    As the source of the light revealed itself, it bafflingly turned out to be a large rock fragment, placed right in the middle of the tunnel. The thing had to be at least 10 meters high and in addition to the golden light, it emitted a strange sort of pressure. It was almost as if the gravity around him increased. The tunnel widened around the rock but stopped shortly after.


    It''s almost as if the people responsible for digging this channel, just dug around the rock but stopped shortly after¡­ was it this pressure maybe?


    Could this be some sort of exotic material!? Ronin thought excitedly. But then why had this rock not been excavated?


    He had heard about these materials before. Supposedly, high technology often needed extremely rare and expensive materials in order to work. This was, however, only relevant to powerful organizations nested deep within the heartlands of humanity.


    Walking closer to the rock, the pressure kept increasing and he was finding it harder and harder to walk. Flashes of¡­ something¡­ seemed to appear at the edge of his vision, but he couldn''t quite put his finger on it. I''m getting the impression of something fighting...


    Not wanting to be found by whoever was carrying those rocket launchers, he tried to maneuver around the rock, but as he got closer, the pressure increased more and more. Feeling the incredible shift in gravity, Ronin gritted his teeth. Just one more step!


    There was a sudden shift in the direction of the pull. The pressure from the rock was not pressing down anymore, it was pulling him directly towards it!


    As he tried to get away, his feet couldn''t maintain friction. He was now, unintentionally moonwalking towards a suspicious, possibly dangerous, massive boulder!


    In a final gambit, he tried jumping away, however as he was in the air, the gravity increased even more. Ronin, still airborne, stopped, then began flying towards the rock!


    BANG!

 Chapter 2: Inheritance

    Ronin''s hand slammed into the rock and his sight went black. Somehow the golden rock in the cave had not only affected gravity, but it had also altered his vision somehow. When he came to, he was fighting an enormous creature as large as a world. He also had four fists? Collisions reverberated through the universe, annihilating planets, stars, anything that could be considered remotely close. Space and time seemed to groan as the void screamed, torn apart by the cataclysmic forces.


    Am I possessing this being? Are these two aliens fighting!? I can barely keep myself conscious just watching this fight!


    Suddenly, the being fighting the enormous creature, the one Ronin inhabited, clenched its four fists. Time, space, gravity, all the forces of the universe seemed to shriek as they condensed into a supreme golden ring circling around its mighty fists. An incomprehensibly momentous punch launched towards the creature, striking it, causing the folds of existence itself to implode, dragging the creature along with it¡­ into nothingness¡­


    Holy shit!


    Ronin was stunned. He had never even imagined something like this even when daydreaming. It was just too large, beyond imagination itself... At most he¡¯d been daydreaming about a big warship...


    No! He fiercely shook his head. Spaceships were capable of anything given enough technological progress. He refused to let himself be misled by something like this!


    As Ronin was busy convincing himself, the being, or more accurately the alien he was inhabiting, was celebrating its victory.


    The four-armed alien suddenly adopted a serious expression, then turned its gaze into the void, taking a battle stance, its momentum once again building up. Something began to appear in the void.


    Is this really happening? It''s not over!? And what in the world IS that thing?


    As something that might be called a gate appeared, the enormous scale of the thing began to truly reveal itself to Ronin. This thing... it''s bigger than a planet... No, it''s bigger than a galaxy!


    Numerous symbols began appearing on the gate and an endless fractal pattern emerged as the gate started radiating immense holy power.


    The alien spoke: ¡°The final shackle...¡±


    Strangely, Ronin understood the alien language.


    As the creature wound up for the final strike, the universe again groaned.


    Here we go again! Ronin inwardly grit his teeth as the four fists, once again surrounded by a golden ring, struck the gate. The conflict between the gate and the fists seemed to crack something in him¡­


    No, something else cracked as well. A piece of the gate flew off¡­ And pandemonium followed.


    Dark foul energy escaped from the crack, striking the alien with horrifying power.


    The creature screamed in agony, the corruption spread through its body, consuming more and more of its essence. The alien gained a fierce light in its eyes, using its dwindling amount of essence, it detonated itself.


    BOOM!


    As the final embers of light were about to be extinguished from its eyes, the alien looked at the piece of the gate that had flown off, mysteriously imprinting it with its mind.


    ¡°Legacy,¡± The alien uttered. It was the final word Ronin heard before everything went black again.


    ¡°...¡±


    Ronin woke up with a piercing headache. In fact, this headache went beyond piercing, it was horrifying, he had never felt anything close to it before. Digging deep within himself he began to think: This is a cave¡­ THE cave... I ran in here...


    He remembered. He had fled here to escape the terrorists; they had followed.


    Pushing away the pain, he glanced around the abandoned mineshaft. It was surprisingly bright! Wasn''t the area pitch black before? There was no light here, the rock which illuminated this section was gone¡­.


    It was gone... the rock that gave him the vision, the headache, the very same rock the workers had to dig around, the rock that couldn''t be moved had just gone up and vanished after he touched it¡­. Legacy, the alien had said...


    Despite the pain, a creeping feeling of horror began dawning on him...


    Forget it! He forced his mind to think about something else.


    For now, I need to get out of here, I can see in the dark now, the terrorists on the other hand can¡¯t. I have an advantage, let''s use it Ronin! Think!


    Dragging himself up from the ground, his legs wobbly and breath shaky, he began braving his path back out of the mining complex.


    ¡°...¡±


    Rattle...


    Step...


    Step. Step. Step...


    In the pitch-black darkness of the cave, men were walking along the tunnel wall, approaching another 2-way intersection. Squeezed into a crevice on the other side of the tunnel, Ronin was holding his breath for dear life, hoping for all that was holy and good not to be noticed.


    Why are they walking along the tunnel wall like that? They have to be using 2nd rate offhand sensor equipment, clearly not made for this sort of environment? They are literally using the wall to guide them! Even a flashlight would be better than whatever they are using now. Some of the tension released as Ronin''s shoulders relaxed, relief blooming in his heart.


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    ¡°Why are we wasting time searching for this rat?¡± One of the men grumbled.


    ¡°Beiner... right as we launched the biggest operation to date, a kid flies straight into our base, don''t you find it strange?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± the man called Beiner acquiesced. ¡°But we don''t have time for this! Darth, buddy, the army will be bearing down on us any second now considering what we did!¡±


    ¡°Let them,¡± another man snorted. Seeming very optimistic at the prospect of fighting the military.


    ¡°Listen...¡± The man called Darth breathed out. ¡°This is the most secure location we¡¯ve used yet; it took months setting this up, the whole damn valley is net jammed, and not a single person besides us has been here ever since we arrived. If this is a spook, we need to know how he found us so fast. This is related to us in some way and the fact that we don''t know is worrying. Why did he come here after the attack, not before, and what will he do if he leaves?¡±


    ¡°Nothing good...¡± the others grunted back.


    While grumbling in agreement the men reached the intersection.


    ¡°You guys go ahead, I will guard the left intersection, you take the right,¡± Darth called out. As the steps of the terrorists faded away, Darth fumbled in the darkness, took out a pipe and added some sickly-sweet smelling powder to it that Ronin recognized as fantasia dust.


    Not good, how in the world am I going to move now? Think Ronin, think! Ronin''s mind was racing. If he moved, the noise would alert his unknowing jailer, if he stayed¡­.


    Maybe¡­.


    Smoking fantasia dust wasn''t exactly the ¡®¡¯go-to¡¯¡¯ drug for enhanced perception.


    I will wait a few minutes and after he''s done smoking then move, Ronin thought as he allowed himself some quiet breaths.


    Before the powder was fully smoked however, the man waddled his way towards his hiding spot. Ronin was frozen in fear. Have I been discovered!?


    The alien artifact had granted Ronin sight through pitch black darkness. This also gave him a clear view of Darth the terrorist as he approached, dope pipe limp in his mouth, he stopped but a meter or two from the wall. The man grunted, and¡­ unzipped his pants, pulling out Darth junior, he began watering the wall. In fact, more than just the wall was getting watered!


    ¡°Urgh!¡± Ronin grunted as droplets began bouncing off the wall and hitting his face.


    Oh no! That grunt was aloud!


    Wide eyed Darth reached for his pocket, pulling out a knife. He had noticed the grunt, he knew, and he was going to attack. Before Ronin''s mind registered what happened, as the knife was pulled out, he pushed out from the wall, his knee landing perfectly on the pommel of Darth''s own knife, stabbing it precisely into the man''s heart.


    What!? How did I do that? I stabbed a man with his own knife, and with my knee at that! I shouldn''t even know where the heart is! Let alone do acrobatics like that, something is seriously wrong with me!


    Time seemed to have stopped at that moment, the two just staring at each other. Ronin on top, Darth underneath.


    ¡°Spook?¡± Darth finally broke the silence, his voice weak.


    Ronin didn''t answer.


    The silence returned


    ¡°Doesn''t...matter...¡± Darth got out before coughing.


    ¡°Listen¡­freedom exists, but not here... you¡¯ll see... tomorrow... look...the news... they lie...¡± Darth said before coughing again. There was blood coming out now.


    ¡°Implant... they track it... they listen... Concordia IS prison.¡±


    His breath was growing weaker, there was no more talking anymore, he was too weak, now there was only waiting, waiting until...


    Ronin reigned himself in, a sour feeling welling up inside him. He had fought before, you had to in the slums, but this was different.


    I... I just killed a man.


    ¡°...¡±


    Searching a body was more work than one would expect, not that Ronin had ever expected anything, let alone robbing a dead man of his valuables, he¡¯d never even pickpocketed someone before!


    Rolling over the body, his hands now bloody after the ordeal, he found another battery pack. The sum total from his looting? Triple the fuel he had before jumping out of the shuttle, 5 times as many batteries for heat control and energy shielding and some other device, he was not quite sure what was yet. Before the qualms behind what he was doing could overtake him, he pushed it down.


    This is survival, don¡¯t think about it, don¡¯t think, don¡¯t think, just do. Ronin inwardly began to chant.


    After installing all the right packets into all the right places, he dragged the body into the left intersection. Hiding the body into a crevice, he turned and began backtracking out of the cave. He might have been lucky with that last group of people, sensors that worked in the dark weren''t really unusual. He suspected he¡¯d gotten lucky due to the jamming field covering the valley.


    Climbing grudgingly through the cave, trying to ignore his headache, he encountered another group of searchers. Hiding behind some abandoned machinery, he got lucky, again.


    Finally, after passing through one of the narrower passages, he was standing just before the mouth of the mine. He was not faced with engaged terrorists, no shouting or yelling. The valley was silent, bodies strewn haphazardly around as if they had just fallen over.


    Some kind of radiation weapon? Weren¡¯t those outlawed?


    Switching on the inbuilt Geiger counter on the academy uniform, the air was clean. Whatever had happened, it was over now at least.


    Looking up, there was nothing there either.


    Orbital strike? He thought, suspicion creeping in. If it was an orbital strike, only the government could be behind it. Further, if the government used weapons outlawed internationally, he¡¯d be damned if he was going to be around too ¡®welcome¡¯ the investigation team when they arrived!


    He didn¡¯t mind this government one way or the other, he wanted to make spaceships, not become some politician. But this sort of operation¡­ whatever had been done here, it would be better if he was not a part of it. The less people knew of him witnessing this, the better. Him having seen this was already one person too many!


    Looking up the wide spiraling road leading up the mining site he made up his mind. Setting the jetpack thruster on burst mode, Ronin began the climb.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    BEEP! BEEP!


    Panting Ronin checked the remaining jet-fuel in the uniform.


    2 %, that''s cutting it close


    He¡¯d been running most of the distance himself, on the steep or vertical sections he¡¯d jumped before activating the jet pack. This last jump had been 30 meters, dropping the fuel amount by over 7%. Taking the long way would have been plain stupid when running from a war crime. Instead of running along the spiraling road, he had run straight up instead.


    I''m smart that way, Ronin thought as he mentally gave himself a pat on the back.


    It was not however good for his already hurting back and legs, well at least the uniform had internal cooling, keeping his body temperature perfectly comfortable along the climb.


    Finally back among civilization, Ronin called down a shuttle. He opted out of using his implant this time, the words of the man he killed still ringing in his head.


    Implant, they track it, they listen


    He didn''t really believe it, but it would be stupid not to take precautions considering his situation.


    ¡°What the hell happened to you boy!?¡± The shuttle driver shouted, eyes wide open, shock and horror animating his entire being.


    ¡°Bad day,¡± Ronin curtly responded, not wanting to get into it.


    ¡°Void, how are you even alive! You need to go to the hospital?¡± The driver continued, clearly not mollified


    ¡°No, just take me to district 91 street 1204, I''m fine,¡± Ronin replied.


    I can''t look that bad, can I?


    ¡°Ok, but don''t die in the shuttle, ok? If I see you drowsing off, I''m dropping you off,¡± the driver skeptically voiced back, clearly having doubts about this entire affair.


    Not wanting to stay any longer than he had to, Ronin walked into the shuttle.


    ¡°The optical implant got damaged,¡± Ronin stated as he handed over one of the batteries he¡¯d looted earlier.


    ¡°Nono, with the state you''re in, payment is not important, just don''t die on me boy,¡± the driver graciously answered while not so graciously pocketing the battery.


    Leaning back in the seat as the shuttle left the crime scene, Ronin thought back at what had just happened.


    Legacy


    The words rang in his mind like he was still there. That had been an apocalyptic battle, something which could never be real. But the way he had fought the terrorist, the way his body moved¡­ people didn''t move like that, not naturally. No one was THAT precise.


    Perhaps he should see a doctor, sometime, but not now.

 Chapter 3: The Uncanny Uncle

    Waking up to a new day, Ronin was elated to notice that the headache was gone, his back and legs were mostly alright now too.


    Getting home he¡¯d jumped into the biorinser immediately, then collapsed into bed.


    Despite going to sleep in the middle of the day he¡¯d slept through the night all the way until dawn the next day.


    That''s got to be like what? 38 hours? Ronin thought, astonished at just how long he''d slept.


    Concordia was a planet with a middle of the road rotational speed, doing a single cycle in about 50 hours, its size was about as large as Earth, humanity''s home world. Its gravity, however, was about 1.3 times higher than Earth, owing to its rich reserves in high density metals.


    There was nothing mandatory he would have to show up to do yet at the academy so he could freestyle his own learning for the moment.


    He turned on the local news and listened for anything related to the attack yesterday. Finding the relevant livestream, he tuned in.


    ¡°¡­many citizens are unhappy about the lack of actions during yesterday''s attack. The fact that the attack happened this close to Ironglades academy has left many wondering if Mayor Brunstein has paid sufficient attention to the growing CLM threat.¡±


    He pinged the implant and a 3-dimensional image of himself materialized in front of him. The pitch-black hair was more ruffled than normal but that was expected, his height was as always 174 cm on the mark, his spinkly body had all the old bruises from fights with gangs and ruffians from the neighborhood like always.


    The livestream continued: ¡°¡­Here we have Mayor Brunstein, live, responding to yesterday''s attack:¡±


    Barely audible sounds of solemn footsteps echoed in the livestreamed studio.


    ¡°Yesterday, shortly before dawn, a group of individuals attacked the region surrounding Ironglades city academy. My heart goes out to those affected; you have my gravest sympathies. As for the criminals who did this, I will not honor them with a name, a name requires common human decency, something which these animals possess none of! None at all!¡±


    The mayor coughed, drank some water, then continued:


    ¡°As I was saying, these animals were dealt with in a manner fit for what they did¡±


    ¡°And what did these people do?¡± The reporter followed up.


    ¡°Thorough investigation has revealed that at about 13:40, a large number of fireworks were set off, causing mayhem and destruction all around the academy area. This even went so far as to indirectly cause 5 fatalities during the event. As a response to this, Ironglades as well as Concordia as a whole has decided to take off the brakes and act proactively against this group from now on.¡±


    They downplayed it! 5 indirect fatalities? Fireworks? How could they miss report on such a huge event? The answer was that they hadn''t, it was deliberate. How much of what really happened out there did the media really cover? How much of what the CLM did had they downplayed? They might be much more dangerous than he was led to believe!


    Tuning out of the livestream, he refocused on his own hologram. Two thick black lightning shaped scars were running vertically down from his forehead, stopping at his eyes before continuing down his cheeks, ending around where his nose ended. Not only that, his eyes had changed too. Before, his eyes had been black, now they were golden, with a red spark in the middle of his pupils.


    The alien infection!


    Ronin knew he had to figure this out. At least he had to do something about it. Sitting down, he closed his eyes and entered his mind palace. He¡¯d naturally acquired this technique due to his ability to remember everything. At some point, when he was younger, the memories became too much to sort through. He kept mixing up details and irrelevant facts. When he tried to recall something, there had been so much to work through, so much ''fog''. In order to sort out his memories properly, he¡¯d constructed something that could house them all, neatly and orderly.


    Going for something large, he¡¯d made a mental representation of his favorite starship, the Coronix produced goliath class mothership ¡®The Worldmaker ED-07¡¯. This was one of the largest ships he knew of. Boasting a length of 50km and nearly as wide, ranging from 30 km at the midsection to 5 km at the ends. This ship could not only fight, but it could also terraform planets. Thousands lived on that ship, permanently!


    His mindscape was now, however, almost unrecognizable. All around him, on the deck, roof, walls, anywhere there had been some open space before, there were now doors. The doors, being of all kinds of colors and shapes, seemed too much for the ship, he could almost feel the poor thing creaking!


    Focusing his mind he tried to stabilize the ship. The feeling of impending doom reduced somewhat. He did not want to find out what would happen if his mind palace collapsed.


    He tried to focus on all the doors to figure out what all this meant, and a name emerged into his perception:


    -POTENTIA PANORAMA-


    He tried to push on some of the doors, but they wouldn''t budge. Eventually he tried the smallest door he could see and pushed as hard as he could.


    There is no way this damn door will stand in my way; this is MY mind! He yelled inwardly before suddenly-


    POPP!


    Gulp


    The door blasted open and a storm of memories, techniques, stances, breathing methods, image training and emotion training formulas, as well as a range of other things he couldn''t understand flooded into his mind.


    Dizzy and drenched in sweat, Ronin exited his mindscape before once again heading into the biorinser.


    That''s enough excitement for the day, he scolded himself. First, he had naively strutted into an alien rock, now he blew open some strange door in his mind. He really shouldn''t meddle with things he didn¡¯t understand.


    And on that note, there was that device he found on Darth. He still had no clue what this was and had been too spooked from what the terrorist said about implants to search it up with his own implant. In addition to the fuel supply and batteries he¡¯d looted, there was this thing, hidden deeply inside a secret pocket of the man suit.


    The only reason he even found it, was that as they both crashed into the ground, the mechanism which had been keeping the pocket concealed, broke, accidentally opening the compartment. If it was hidden so well, it could be really valuable.


    Ronin began feeling queasy at the thought of what he had done. Still, if this thing was valuable, it would be a waste to throw it away. He really needed an untraceable device far away from the government''s potentially hungrily sniffing nose for this kind of stuff.


    He knew of a guy who could help, he¡¯d been warned about him by his parents before they died. That man was an expert in anything related to virtual hacking. He likely also had some knowledge about implants. He might also be able to help with the unknown tech he had found on Darth. The man was called many things, but Ronin called him uncle.


    Officially he was known as Nagata Maximus, but most just called him The Psychonaut or Psyrat for short. He was a fiend for psychedelics, he also wanted everyone he interacted with to learn about the wonders of expanding the mind. That is, if you wanted to talk, you had to take the drugs, be it man, woman, grownup or child.


    Ronin really didn''t want to go through something like that, but he¡¯d also been told that Nagata was a nice person at heart if you could get past taking those drugs. A very warped perception of drug use? Yes. Deliberately cruel? Unlikely.


    Still shaken from the events the last day, he put on the academy suit, making sure the batteries and fuel cells were in place, he wolfed down some synthpaste and headed out.


    Soft creaks of old wood being bent rang in the hallway as Mayor Brunstein approached a thick neodymium rimmed eirwood gate. The gaudy passageway, empty of anything living but the mayor and numerous expensive exotic plants, rang as he knocked on the gate. He waited, but there was nothing but silence to greet him.


    Again with the silent treatment? I¡¯m getting too old for this. He sighed.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    A soft but cold voice creeped through the gaps in the ceiling.


    ¡°Lower it Kathus.¡±


    The gate sank into the floor, as the face of a bald man in a wood-colored camo suit became visible from the sinking gate. Behind the bald man the voice rang again.


    ¡°Ah, Brunstein, the man of the hour,¡± condescension now intermixed in the tone.


    ¡°You called for a meeting.¡± Brunstein''s older voice neutrally echoed back.


    ¡°Indeed¡­ you are losing control over Ironglades, Mayor.¡±


    As Brunstein entered the room, several others were seated around a conference table, 3-Dimensional holograms of offworlders were also mixed in. On several screens around the room, graphs, charts and numbers were on display. They had likely begun the meeting without him.


    ¡°As I was saying earlier,¡± the cold voice continued.


    ¡°Current behavioral models show an increase in human turbulence in the near future, at that time, this CLM will be the least of your worries. This newest incident at Ironglades falls right in line with what we expected to happen.¡±


    ¡°The moment these anomalies became evident in the dataset we proposed several solutions, yet, out of all of them you either chose the least likely to succeed or took next to no action at all. Now, look at what your inaction has caused.¡±


    Irritation began to sink into the voice.


    ¡°At this point, unless something is done, we¡¯re even looking at a potential cascade failure happening, not only to Planet Concordia, but the Tar Kingdom itself.¡±


    Hushed discussion broke out in the room.


    And this is how they do it Brunstein inwardly complained. When the founders of the Kingdom of Tar pioneered the new star system, they had been elated to find four planets they could terraform. Two of the planets had been quite rich in critical mineral resources as well.


    Little did they know that a mere 200 years later, a powerful faction would be pushed out from the galactic heartland of humanity and settle right next door. Occupying planets as close as 20 light years away had put the Tar Kingdom right in the middle of the New Sichuan Empire''s domain of influence.


    The Sichuan Empire wanted a buffer zone like most empires do, and having their neighbors adopt their highly unique system and culture would make it official to the rest of the local power groups. Tar did not escape Sichuan¡¯s cultural reformation, they had been willing to make some changes at first, this is how geopolitics is done, but the Sichuan¡¯s only wanted more and more. Tar became reluctant.


    The representatives of Tar knew the game by now and unanimously chose the mildest action offered. There would be no mandatory implants with bombs installed in Tar! Not today.


    Some of Sichuan¡¯s proposals were simply outrageous!


    A smell of industrial waste, air pollution and questionable human hygiene filled the air as Ronin climbed up the side of a building.


    ¡°You! There! Get down from the wall!¡± A man shouted close by.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Ronin yelled back.


    Apartments were stacked so closely together and upon each other that climbing your way to an uncle was faster than walking. The climb was remarkably easier than expected, having climbed his way to friends before, Ronin knew what his body could handle. This was more, much more. He was practically running up the walls!


    Having climbed for about 40 minutes, he spotted an apartment terrace he knew, and sat down to rest. The glass door to the terrace opened and a shaggy figure walked out to greet him.


    ¡°Oh! Hey man, fancy seeing you stopping by. Thought you¡¯d be busy with Academy work?¡± The man cheerfully added as he handed Ronin a glass of water.


    ¡°Yeah, got registered, attended a few classes, but as you can see, some things happened along the way back.¡± Ronin said, pointing at the two black lightning shaped scars running down his face.


    ¡°Some kind of tattoo? Got yourself some eye surgery as well? "Pretty cool, but didn¡¯t know you were into that?¡± The man laughed.


    Tattoo, eye surgery? yeah, let''s go with that, better not to advertise that I have an alien infection.


    Finishing up the glass, Ronin said his goodbyes and began scaling the roofs and walls again. After scaling a particularly nasty overhang, he¡¯d gotten to the "more" flat part of the trek. Randomly stacked modular buildings with wide gaps in between called for a lot of jumping.


    He usually didn¡¯t go this far and there was a reason for that. After rounding a corner that reason showed up.


    Rooftop bandits!


    Dwelling on the upper sections of the lower districts, that is the rooftops, these gangs broke into the top flats of the poor. Due to this, the top floors were generally empty, who would want to live this close to crime?


    Normally Ronin would jump back down, he wouldn¡¯t be here to begin with. If nothing else worked, he¡¯d let them rob him. He wasn''t normal anymore though; an uncontrollable excitement ran up his spine and a new feeling bubbled up inside of him. He¡¯d never felt something like this before.


    Except in the mine, when Darth noticed me, Ronin silently admitted.


    As the hunger for battle filled him, the chase began.


    ¡°Hey! stop!¡± One of the men called out as they pulled out knives and batons.


    Deliberately slowing his speed, Ronin began applying the techniques he acquired from the door in his mental palace. As the first pursuer caught up, he dodged an overhead swing from a baton. Countering with an elbow to the lower chin, the man began to collapse, falling down a gap between two inclined roofs.


    As Ronin was now running backwards, the next attacker decided to aim for his midsection. Wielding a knife, the man hungrily sought to pierce his flesh, as he thrust the knife forward. Turning sideways, along the knifes trajectory, Ronin countered with a swift uppercut. Shock visible in the bandits'' eyes, Ronin dodged under him, tripping the man into another rooftop gap.


    BAM!


    The first man he''d knocked out crashed into one of the lower rooftops. That had to be at least 5-meter drop! he thought, shocked.


    Two more attackers were coming after him fast! Weaving in between the two men and their weapons, delivering counters where possible, he made short work of his opponents. The rest of the bandits, a dozen or so left, turned and began to run.


    ¡°Shit! man, sorry for the disturbance!¡± The closest of them shouted while running away.


    ¡°What the hell did we provoke!? He took down 4 guys in an instant!¡± One of the smaller bandits exclaimed.


    ¡°RUN!¡± One of their leaders burst out, before looking over at one of his downed compatriots. ¡°Smoky are you okay?! We can run right?¡±


    "..."


    Coming back to himself Ronin felt relief and as if some sort of energy finally had been released from his body. He felt normal again, but what was happening to his body? It was as if his body kept accumulating energy but what did this energy really do? Thinking back to what he had just done, a creeping suspicion arose in his mind.


    Why did I take the rooftop path? Sure, it''s shorter, but I knew there were bandits here. Why didn¡¯t I think of it? Did my subconscious somehow ignore the danger? Did it seek it instead?


    Brushing the unease away, he began searching the bandits for valuables. Better if it belongs to me, then you. He thought as he scooped up a bracelet from one of the men. ¡°Wasn''t this the guy they called Smoky?¡± Fortunately, no one had died, but some payment for attacking him was justified, right?


    Continuing on for a few minutes he reached the apartment of his infamous uncle. 30 floors down the high-rise, the apartment stood out from the rest. It was twice the size of all the surrounding ones. Where there should have been a normal door, there was a thick steel gate. The walls were thick and filled with sensors. As Ronin knocked on the gate, several turrets descended.


    The gate must have tactile sensors built in, this way the turrets will descend when the gate is touched. He marveled, a little uneasy from being pointed at like that.


    This could be a simple, effective self-defense feature on a starship! If the sensors were calibrated and coupled with the weight and visual profile of every crew member, no one but the crew can walk safely within the ship! Imagine boarding a ship only to find turrets firing at you in every hallway and every room, horrifying!


    [Ronin Maximus? Is that really you? This is really a surprise! I always wanted to see you, but Xena and Holder were always so adamant about cutting off all contact, I never imagined you¡¯d show up!] A static voice boomed out of a speaker on the wall.


    The gate opened up.


    [Come in, come in. I''m quite busy at the moment so I can''t come out to greet you personally. Oh, and don¡¯t be alarmed when you lose connection to the Concordia Network. Pretty much this entire apartment is a faraday cage. No electromagnetic signals come in, and none goes out]


    Well, that''s not ominous at all! Ronin ironically remarked as he walked in.


    As the gate closed behind him, in front of him, a new door opened up. ¡°Well, well, must be quite the predicament you¡¯ve landed yourself in to come to me for help.¡± Nagata remarked as he walked out.


    ¡°Out with it, we''re family and for you to come here means I''m the only hope you¡¯ve got. If you can''t even talk to me about it, who can you tell?¡±


    Sighing inwardly, Ronin saw the truth in those words. Although he knew some people, they were mostly acquaintances and lukewarm friends. He had a few good friends he could talk to if he had personal issues he wanted to air out, but this sort of issue? A literal alien infection? No. Still, he needed help and Nagata was the closest thing to an expert he knew of, and he, well, despite all the quirky personality traits, wasn''t someone who had sold friends or family out to either companies or governments. His parents had at least told him as much before they passed away.


    Shakily, Ronin began to recount everything that happened from when he entered the academy until he came here.


    ¡°Well, that''s quite the story, good thing you took precautions after everything went straight to hell on that shuttle drive. With what happened to you kid, from now on, never speak of it to anyone again. You¡¯re going to have to be very careful going forward from now on. As for the device you¡¯ve brought¡­¡± Nagata lit up something akin to a metallic candle and blew the smoke into Ronin''s face.


    ¡°Hey! Just what did you do just now? Hang on, why are the walls closing in? Are those the abyssal horrors from the movie "Deep depths"?¡±


    Nagata was responding but Ronin only saw a moving mouth, finding it very interesting and funny somehow. Feeling stuck in time, Ronin was suddenly swallowed by one of the abyssal horrors and his consciousness collapsed in on itself, splintering into a thousand fragments.

 Chapter 4: The Big Heist

    Nagata shook his head in sadness. How unlucky was this family? Not only had Xena-, and Holder Maximus been on the career path of their lives. Xena being a prodigy in robotics engineering and Holder being a highly accredited researcher in the materials sciences. They had left the neighboring farm planet Hartheim in high hopes of new opportunities, and not surprisingly found them. They had asked Nagata for help, and he¡¯d arranged housing in Ironglades, the industrial center of not only Concordia, but also the Tar kingdom itself.


    Everything went well the first 15 years but, maybe because they shone too brightly, a rivaling company had tried to poach them from their employer. When that didn¡¯t work, the company had turned to darker means. The shuttle accident 3 years ago had not been an accident at all.


    Nagata had found out. He was good that way, Henderson Robotics Inc. had ordered the hit. He¡¯d informed the local planetary police (the planetary guard) and the employer of Xena and Holder by an anonymous tip, but nothing came of it. Internal memos claimed "Lack of Evidence" being the cause. He¡¯d considered informing Ronin of this, but a kid, only 15 years of age, being confronted by something like that? It would only destroy his future even more. He was still uncertain if he should inform Ronin at all. Better not to know.


    Well, at least he¡¯d given Ronin a chance to find himself when he blew "atom spice" straight into his face.


    Moving Ronin over to a couch, he picked up the unknown device and went into his office. He knew which device Ronin had brought over, of course. What was interesting, was what the device hid, not what it was. Creating a safe virtual interface, he scanned the device for viruses before plugging it into the mainframe. Cracking his fingers, he booted up the subroutine, allowing safe access to whatever goodies it hid beneath its surface.


    Horrified and groggy Ronin woke up from some of the worst experiences of his life. He¡¯d seen what could only be called the devil, he''d been shown the worst experiences in his life, repeatedly, all the while feeling crippling anxiety and paranoia. The creeping fear of not entirely being in control of himself earlier today, had become a full-blown demon, giving him strong mental suggestions on the glory in becoming a battle maniac.


    ¡°Ugh, I''m never doing that again,¡± he groaned as he shook his head, trying to come to his senses.


    ¡°The demons you faced in that place are your own inner demons. The Atom spice merely showed you what you yourself have suppressed. Embrace it next time.¡± His uncle replied.


    His parents had been right. He should have stayed away from this man.


    ¡°Whatever¡± he got out, not believing a word his uncle said!


    ¡°Anyways, put on this faraday hat and come over here, the blockchain key is about to show us what its hiding!¡±


    ¡°Faraday hat? blockchain key?¡± Ronin asked, a bit puzzled over the names.


    ¡°A faraday hat is just what we call a miniaturized faraday cage, made to only block out whatever signals any sort of optical-, or bioimplant sends out. It looks like a normal hat too. This one is pretty fashionable if you ask me.¡± He said as he handed over a black hat tightly wrapping around Ronin''s head as he put it on.


    Leaning back into his chair, Nagata, the man known as Psyrat cut off a piece of the cheese placed on his table, threw it into his mouth, chewed, and began to explain:


    ¡°A Blockchain key is a typical device for off the record illegal transactions. They can lead to many things but, generally it gives access to a cryptocurrency account. This one appears to lead to a shared account. The number of safeguards I''ve had to bypass along the way is a new record for me to be honest. Someone went into a lot of trouble to keep this secure.¡±


    Nagata gestured with his hands and a holographic screen popped up, allowing Ronin to see what he was doing.


    ¡°Alright, this should be it,¡± he finished as his head did a weird twitching motion to the side.


    As the screen changed and new numbers and letters began to appear-


    ¡°By the humanity!¡± they both exclaimed together as they saw just what they had gotten access to.


    ¡°I expected it to be cryptocurrency but this¡­ translating this into Tar Kingdom Credits it would at least be¡­¡± Nagata gasped


    ¡°Enough to do whatever you want.¡± Ronin finished.


    The sum displayed in front of them, if converted, was enough to pay the fine he was issued at the space force academy. It was enough to pay for a new house, a workshop and hangar to build spaceships, to pay for patent licenses, the latest bio-implant technologies and... Heck, he could just buy up a couple of middle-sized companies himself and still have leftover cash to burn!


    They were looking at the equivalent of 800 million Tar Kingdom credits!


    ¡°Can we even take this?¡± Ronin questioned


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°I mean, even if you technically can actually do it, I mean THEORETICALLY if you could also hide who took it, wouldn¡¯t this set some things in motion that somehow would harm us regardless? I mean this amount is just too much right? There has to be consequences.¡±


    ¡°Theoretically I can do it... We¡¯d have to be extremely careful on how we spend it though, but yes, it''s possible.¡±


    They looked at each other, then burst nervously into laughter.


    ¡°I think I need to lay back down on the couch.¡± Ronin mumbled before heading back, holding his head. The faraday hat was not coming off now!


    25 light years away from Concordia, Nameka leaned back into a comfortable gel cushioned chair. It was made to perfectly fit the body in such a way to make it as comfortable as possible. Nanites shaped the gel where the body didn¡¯t and the result? It was ergonomic when you needed it to be, massaged you when you felt stiff and maximized your comfort, when you could afford it.


    Today she could afford it. Operation Lightfall had been an exemplary success. The push during the meeting with the heads of state in Tar had been more than enough to firmly nudge Tar further into Sichuan¡¯s sphere of influence. All she had to do for this success was to arrange for some spies to finance various reactionary extremist elements in the Tar Kingdom and like clockwork, they delivered. Extremist elements which, by the way, her predecessors had fostered and nurtured when they pushed Tar into taking several authoritarian measures against its own people earlier. The only way for Tar not to collapse now was to take even more control over its people, making it even more like The Sichuan Empire.


    Nameka had been quite upset about being transferred into the middle of nowhere. A planet lacking development and technology, far away from their new home where the glorious party imperiously pushed forward their grand vision of humanity. One People, One mind, One party, One leader! The importance of a single-minded focus when confronting the horrors of the universe was paramount if humanity was to survive!


    Although, being transferred so far from the center of power had its own merits. She¡¯d never believe she¡¯d like the freedom this granted. The worry of the bomb implanted into her head was close to non-existent now. The frequent speech pattern analysis checkups, chemical tests, behavioral evaluations had been normal back at the new home world. Staying here for a few years had changed all that. She dreaded them now; she would continue to stay here by doing what she did best. Being good at her job.


    Nagata and Ronin had been discussing what to do with the enormous sum of cryptocurrency for hours. As time passed, the discussion evolved from questions such as: ¡°What if someone finds out we took the money regardless?¡± To: ¡°Well, it''s terrorist money, we¡¯re doing a good thing anyways right?¡± By the end, they were just discussing how they could do it and get away with it. The potential consequences somehow forgotten amidst the greedy fervor.


    Having agreed how to handle the cryptocurrency, Nagata began to transfer the funds onto different accounts. 80 % of the funds was to go to Ronin on a new Blockchain key, spanning several new anonymous accounts. The key, set up to be entirely virtual, was now set up even more securely than the key he¡¯d come in with. The remaining 20% was to be transferred into Nagata''s own anonymous accounts.


    By the end of the transfers, the currency should be almost impossible to trace back to them. Only by actually spending the currency could anyone link up who''d used it. But by that time, the currency would not be connected to the terrorist accounts in any direct way whatsoever. There could be no trail between their money and the terrorist accounts!


    Nagata also set up numerous shell companies with tenuous, but binding links to each other. Those links were however drowned in an ocean of other tenuous links which were not binding. They looked like they were though. This would allow them to spend the money without anyone knowing who really was connected to the new accounts. Ronin could now set up a company, but for anyone but him and Nagata, he would just look like another employee.


    If some kid from the slums suddenly started spending money like it was raining, it would raise eyebrows. Finally, Ronin would spend the "company" money to pay the licensing fees, operational costs, etc. when designing starships, but his own patents would belong to him and him alone, not any of the shell companies!


    Long story short, they had been as careful as possible, the links back to them were close to impossible to find. They had done it! Ronin was now sitting on 634 million credits after the shell company fees were deducted.


    Both of them grinning at each other, Nagata couldn¡¯t help but comment:


    ¡°I might have to stop doing atom spice from now on. The paranoia might drive me crazy considering what we¡¯ve done.¡±


    ¡°I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU REALLY DIDN¡¯T BELIEVE IN DRUGS!¡± Ronin broke out, pointing at Nagata angrily.


    ¡°Now calm down, if you¡¯re already very paranoid when you take it, you will naturally become even more paranoid, that''s not how¡­¡±


    ¡°WHAT DO YOU THINK I WAS WHEN I CAME HERE!?¡±


    ¡°Listen, your situation was different, you have never taken it before and had a lot of inner demons to confront...¡±


    ¡°WHAT!? ISN¡¯T YOUR PARANOIA A DEMON?! CONFRONT IT!¡±


    Ronin once again vowed to himself never to listen to this damn hypocrite about this sort of thing ever again!


    Fool me once, shame on you! Fool me twice, shame on you also! I will never be shamed!


    As Nameka picked up the call with her implant she¡¯d expected some minor issue to be troubling the spy. Perhaps more reactionary agents than expected had been arrested recently due to ¡®Operation Lightfall¡¯. Perhaps an operation had been thwarted before it began. She did not however, expect for all the funds she¡¯d been allocated for the CLM movement to have just gone up and vanished.


    Cold sweat began to form on her forehead. This was a major issue. The CLM destabilization project was important to Sichuan''s overall plan for Tar. If these funds were not found, she could kiss her position as a diplomat goodbye. With a blunder like this under her belt, losing her job was the best-case scenario. At worst¡­ She shuddered as she thought about the bomb installed in her implant.


    ¡°Find the money! I don''t care what you have to do, just find it, and don''t under any circumstances let those funds be connected back to Sichuan!¡±


    She closed the call, the gel cushioned chair suddenly not feeling very comfortable anymore.


    Just how did they do it?! She thought as she forcefully massaged her forehead. If she didn¡¯t figure this out, they couldn¡¯t even transfer more funds over to the CLM. They might just get stolen again. If there was some critical oversight in their financial security, all the other projects could also be in danger!

 Chapter 5: Visiting the doctor

    In a restaurant located in the upper district of Ironglades, row after row of new and exciting dishes were being brought out. On the table, already, a collection of culinary delights was being aggressively devoured. From seafood delicacies, harvested from foreign star systems to premium beef straight from the nearby planet Hartheim, Ronin ate it all.


    Gulping down a glass of taste optimized water, he basked in his newfound luxury like a true nouveau riche.


    This is the life! he beamed as he went over the plan he and Nagata had agreed to. The first priority was to exchange implants in order to ensure he wasn¡¯t tracked or listened in on anymore. The feeling of always having to hide something was very uncomfortable, but in exchange, he was still alive. So, there was that.


    He could only imagine what would happen if Tar found out about his alien passenger. Now, there was also the cryptocurrency he''d stolen from the CLM to worry about. That being said, with the funds at hand, he could now set up a real business and start designing starships. What he''d dreamed about since he was a child was finally in sight and he wouldn''t trade that for anything in the world.


    In order to exchange implants, he¡¯d have to visit a private black-market specialist. He could have an official hospital do this operation as well but given his alien infection and the fact that government hospitals stored and uploaded all your biometrics onto the net, he¡¯d decisively passed on that option.


    As for the implant they¡¯d chosen, the "Uninet-2000-Ex". This was not only a top of the line, widely accepted general purpose implant, it was also optimized for weak brain integration. This made it removable without risking brain damage should he wish for an upgrade later on. Compared to his current government issued implant, it had 1000 times the storage capacity and 100 times the RAM, it also had a high uplink speed.


    Most importantly of all, however? It was widely used by human society. Far more empires and kingdoms than Tar used this device. In other words, this was not the type of technology a company or government tampered with. Too many different stakeholders were involved. If a state or company tampered with something this popular, the scrutiny and animosity from the rest of human society would leave the perpetrators in ruin.


    Ronin handsomely tipped the restaurant staff before he left, stepping out onto a fancy see-through elevator. Met by the view of flying shuttles, metal buildings and blinking neon lights, he pressed the button for the 289th floor.


    Dr. Leyana Firnesse inspected the upcoming schedule for the day. Working for the upper end of the market had been quite the attractive offer when her former mentor introduced the idea. Working off the books, she not only earned herself a large sum of credits, but she also got to see a wide variety of customers. From secretive cult leaders, company leaders living on the gray side of the law, to government officials and spoiled young masters with unsavory lifestyles. She had seen it all.


    This client was something new though. By all means, he should be a poor slum rat, yet he had the funds for an operation like this. Looking at the image accompanying his file and the twitching boy walking up to greet her, the discrepancy was shocking to say the least. Black lightning shaped scars ran down from his forehead and¡­ golden pupils?


    Who would want to look like that?


    ¡°Ah, Mr. Maximus! Right on time. I see here you have also ordered a full body scan. Would you like us to perform it after or before the implant exchange procedure?¡±


    ¡°Which will be faster?¡± The lightning scarred boy questioned.


    Short and curt questions, also nervous? She remarked, noticing the increase in pitch towards the end of his question.


    ¡°If we do it after the procedure, the scan will proceed while you are still unconscious, saving you some time.¡± She replied.


    ¡°Let''s do it after the operation then.¡± He decided as they walked towards the operation room.


    After being injected with anesthetics, he only got a little sleepier, but that was about it.


    What in the world? He should be asleep by now!


    "Seems we will have to increase the dosage sir. Did you take anything before coming here?"


    "What? No, I only ate some food. Is there a problem?" The half sleepy boy replied.


    Grumbling inwardly, she upped the dosage, again and again. From 1.5 times the normal levels, to 2, to 2.5. Only after tripling the amount, did he finally fall asleep.


    What in the void? She had never had to increase the dosage like this on a patient before!


    This boy... did he lie about being injected with stimulants before coming here? Could it be illegal genetic enhancements?


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    She began the implant swap but, the operation was soon further complicated by how his muscle fibers kept twitching. Not like how a typical physiological or psychological condition could cause spasms, no. His entire body was tensing and relaxing. Every individual muscle group seemed to tense and relax in a continuous cycle, seemingly independently of each other. Even his brain was twitching!


    With the amount of anesthetics she''d injected him with, he was already supposed to be half dead by now! This was beginning to look less like a normal operation and more like a scientific experiment.


    Dr. Leyana Firnesse was a professional however, one of the best in the business. Something like this would not stop someone like her! Taking out some more specialized tools, she worked around the twitching tissues, perfectly cutting around the old device, extracting it, then slowly began installing the Uninet-2000.


    Time to figure out what''s going on with the kid, she thought, as drones began bringing over specialized bioscan instruments. She was going to be thorough with this kid. She needed to know, to help her patient of course, totally not because she might be looking at a fascinating scientific marvel!


    As the results began trickling in, the data only became more and more confusing. She had noticed him acting a bit jittery when he walked into her office, but never had she imagined something like THIS to be the reason!


    Ronin woke up feeling refreshed. There was none of the headache one would expect from having one''s head operated on. Whatever anesthetics he¡¯d been given had also been completely flushed out of his system.


    ¡°Surprised?¡± The female doctor asked, brushing her long, chestnut-colored hair aside. She looked... proud?


    ¡°Everything I''ve read about these operations said there would be immediate side effects. I really didn¡¯t expect it to go so smoothly. Thank you¡± He happily shot back.


    Activating his new Uninet-2000, he began testing it out, opening up livestreams, hologram programs as well as various forms of scanning functions. Both the quality and speed of this device was on a whole other level. He barely had to think about what he wanted before the optical implant displayed it!


    This thing is amazing, it''s almost as fast as the speed of thought. It''s like it''s a part of my mind! He thought, his eyebrows shooting up in amazement.


    ¡°You get what you pay for. Here at Cyber Specs, you not only get the best services on the planet, but you also get complete anonymity!¡± Done with her marketing pitch, she continued.


    ¡°Anyways, we don¡¯t quite know what to make of the bioscan. All the values we measured, from blood pressure, cell division rate to cognitive activity show elevated values. But you still appear perfectly healthy. The only impairment we could find was the micro-jitters in your muscles.¡±


    ¡°What''s even more interesting, is that during our scan, we encountered some anomalous energy readings. We didn¡¯t know what to make of it, so we ran the scan again.¡± She began, her eyes flashing wide, turning intense.


    ¡°Guess what we found!? Every value measured was higher during the 2nd scan, including the anomalous energy readings! Also, none of our drugs had any effect on you. When we lowered blood pressure, something else increased proportionally! Who knows what might happen if these values continue to increase! You might just suddenly fall over, dead! Just like that. You could even suddenly explode! Imagine that! BOOM!¡± Dr. Leyana Firnesse excitedly spoke, gesturing with her hands, a hint of mania now evident on her face.


    ¡°E-E-Explode!?¡± Ronin stuttered, horrified by the news. Looking at the not so professional doctor anymore, he thought back to the battle hunger he felt when confronting the rooftop bandits.


    It has to be that anomalous energy she mentioned. It''s forcing my body to fight somehow, perhaps some of the memories from the door I opened in my mind palace can help?


    ¡°Is there any way to reduce those elevated values you measured, any at all?¡± He asked, just to be sure.


    Dr. Firnesse, clearly a bit too happy considering his circumstances, raised a hand to her chin and scrunched her eyebrows in thought. Ronin counted every second as time passed by, his heart in his throat. Finally, she began to speak:


    ¡°Not that I can think of, while you were unconscious, we did try to change those values, as I just mentioned. I also searched up anything related to your condition on the net, there was nothing even remotely close to what we measured on you. No condition, no artificially induced state, nothing. There is simply no president for whatever is happening to you.¡±


    ¡°Nothing at all? In all of human society there must be something right? The Concordia network only covers the 4 planets of the Tar kingdom.¡±


    She looked deeply into his eyes, her gaze now firm. ¡°I didn¡¯t use the Concordia network, I used the quantum net. Don¡¯t ask me how I have access, but this network covers all of human occupied space. Out of the vast ocean of humanity out there, trillions upon trillions of people. Not a single person recorded, has values like yours.¡±


    Realization began to sink in. Ronin was on his own. He saw that now. If he was going to fix what was happening to him, he had to do it himself.


    ¡°Buuuut-¡± she continued. ¡°If all else fails and there is no other way out for you, you can call this ID here.¡± She handed him a card made of paper. The words on the card elegantly written in nanoparticle ink.


    Whatever this is, it sure is extravagant.


    "The Brinksman" The card read. Looking further down, his new Uninet-2000-Ex reacted to the nanoparticles as information began materializing on his holoscreen.


    These are DNA transplant services and genetic enhancement procedures! Ronin was shocked.


    Bio-modification was in general, highly illegal, not only in Tar but in all of human occupied space. If a state openly engaged in this, all rights and privileges could be revoked. There was even a risk they''d be designated as aliens!


    ¡°The card has now been calibrated to your implant ID. Keep the card out of sight. If the nanoparticles embedded in the card detect any attempts on accessing it from anyone other than you, the card will self-destruct.¡±


    Last resort indeed, Ronin agreed.

 Chapter 6: The wrong kind of fight

    Finally free to use his optical implant again, Ronin looked up what he had missed from the academy curriculum. Back at his apartment, he spent a few hours on orbital dynamics, sublight propulsion and spacecraft construction exercises. That left "only" faster than light (FTL) engine theory, which... well, it was complicated, to put it mildly:


    Quantum entanglement teleportation? How in the world does an engine create a quantum effect covering the whole ship? And then the ship somehow instantly teleports?! Ronin furrowed his eyebrows. The Alcubierre drive requires exotic matter to create negative energy density? And this somehow folds space so the ship can travel faster than light?


    ¡°Ugh,¡± Ronin grunted, trying to wrap his mind around the introductory equations. He could probably do the equations but understanding them was another matter entirely.


    After slogging through dense, mind bending physics and material science for hours, he began to run into the theoretical FTL drives.


    Parallel universe drive? If it''s made in the future, it can theoretically allow your spaceship to replace an alternate reality version of itself in another timeline?! Ok, I''m putting this down for now.


    Getting restless, Ronin''s mind began wandering into dangerous territories. He couldn''t help it. Going into the slums? Looking for a criminal hot spot? He''d noticed his mind attempt to rationalize doing anything and everything it could do to get into a fight. When the thought arrived, he suddenly felt the need to go for a walk, or a jog, maybe sightsee, or take a roundabout way to visit a friend. Upon closer inspection however, those innocent ideas, were quickly revealed as something dark. Turns out, every single one of those trips, jogs and detours would "accidentally" take him through highly dangerous areas of the city.


    If this goes on, I''ll end up dead at some point. Didn¡¯t I get some techniques from the Potentia Panorama on how to deal with this? He did get a lot of knowledge when he opened that door in his mind palace.


    Closing his eyes, he scanned his memories. As he began perusing the new additions to his mindscape, he noticed some of the techniques he''d used against the rooftop bandits.


    The Near-death sight: When in extremely dangerous life and death situations, when the warrior is but an instant away from either the abyss or the glory, the warrior can experience that time slows down. God juice makes this effect permanent, increasing the thinking speed in battle the more life and death moments you experience.


    God juice¡­ what a name¡­maybe not everything from the artifact was translated correctly.


    "..."


    He began trying out several of the new methods and techniques, but none seemed to work.


    It seemed only a select few of these things, could actually be performed by a human. All he had now, were instincts that somehow made him good at fighting and the near-death sight.


    Undeterred, he looked further through the memories.


    Kalvrakian Embrace Vol.1: Through movements achieving harmony with the universe, the self and God juice, the warrior can strengthen his foundations. Only with a vessel of steel, can the path to supremacy be walked.


    Kalvrakian Embrace? It''s trained by positioning your body into various stances it seems... Some kind of body strengthening exercise?


    Taking one awkward stance after another, he tried to harmonize his breathing. Closing his eyes, he imagined the energy flowing in and out of his cells, nurturing them, again and again. Trying to smoothly switch from one stance to the next, the flow within him shifted, the exercise becoming harder.


    It feels like I have reactor fuel running through my body! Ronin was shocked! The second stance was so much harder than the first!


    Every muscle, every inch, even his mind was becoming more and more sore and raw. Straining under the pressure, it felt like his very being was coming apart. As the strain was pulling apart his body, he felt it: This energy¡­. Can I really overcome it? It feels like I''m a vessel, containing something that I was never meant to contain.


    His body had become stronger after he was infected. He felt it when going to visit his uncle, he felt it in the abandoned mine after touching the rock. But was it enough?


    Only 10 minutes had gone by, and Ronin was already sitting on the ground panting.


    I only managed to complete 2 out of the 108 stances in the manual. Ronin thought as he felt his body strengthening.


    Looking around the wallpaper covered room, he noticed that the pixels making up the differently pictured spaceships, had become just a little bit clearer. Old wear and tear in the soft foldable plastic, had become just a little more poignant. It was as if he could see more than before.


    More like an alien, his mind echoed


    The urge to fight within him had lessened, but not by enough. Sighing, he ate some of the high quality synthpaste he¡¯d bought on the way back home from the doctor, rested until he felt energized again, then headed out to hunt for some criminals.


    Calling down a shuttle for transport, he paid for a 30-minute ride down to district 101. The district known as the slum of slums. He¡¯d never been there before, and for a good reason. Everything he¡¯d heard about that place sounded exaggerated. From statement such as:


    ¡°In district 101, they¡¯ll kill you just for looking at them wrong!¡± To personal claims such as: ¡°One of my friends went there, 2 days later, they found his body in pieces, roasted on top of some power lines, halfway eaten!¡±


    Ronin had even heard crime stories like: ¡°There was a range of cases that troubled us here in district 91 for months, everyone believed it was a serial killer. It was only later on that we found out that someone from district 101 had actually gotten lost and entered our district. It all made sense then, of course people would start disappearing with a 101¡¯er on the loose¡±


    "..."


    ¡°End of the line sir. From here on out, I''m not driving any further down. If you really want to go down in that place, you are on your own.¡± The shuttle driver said, making his stance clear.


    Paying for the ride, Ronin exited the shuttle and began the climb. The entrance to district 101 was marked by a 10-meter wide and 40-meter-deep chute, known as the maw of misery...


    As he entered the chute, he sniffed the air- This place reeks!


    He grabbed a pipe and began to slide, speeding up the descent. Dense fog blanketed the end of the chute as he peered downwards.


    He landed on solid ground and was immediately greeted by a bigger than average woman, her entire body dappled by leaky pustules.


    ¡°Hey baby! You here for some good time?¡±


    He didn''t respond.


    The neon lights were sparse here, also, the sunlight didn¡¯t reach this far down. As he spotted the hot power lines running along the streets, it became clear what caused the fog.


    Run-off from the world above, likely contaminated, ends up here where it''s boiled by the powerlines. That means... I might be breathing poisonous air... Despite the Potentia Panorama driven subconscious suggestions slithering through him, he began to regret coming here.


    Ronin''s eyes could pierce the dark, the fog obscured his vision, but not by enough. He could therefore see the left hand of the woman signaling her pimp. He also saw when that pimp, in turn, signaled his friends. As 5 men now, began sneaking silently towards him, he also noticed that some of them were equipped with laser pistols. Weak but deadly if you didn¡¯t have shielding.


    Shit! That''s what I was afraid of. These people aren''t looking for a fight. They¡¯re here to kill! Ronin realized.


    Growing up in the slums, he knew the difference between the rambunctious loud type of man and the silent sneaking type. The loudmouths came at you with puffed up chests as they approached you with wide confident steps. Those types of people were fighters. They would threaten, humiliate and beat you up, but at the end, they would leave, and you''d be alive.


    The silent, sneaking type of man, armed with deadly weapons, trying to flank you from a better shooting position however... They played by different rules. Moving with deadly purpose, they didn¡¯t act on ego, nor insecurity. And there wouldn¡¯t be any fighting if they could help it.


    Darting into an alleyway, he crouched down, hugged the wall and waited.


    What is wrong with you Ronin? Why didn''t you bring the academy suit!? He was now convinced; the alien artifact was definitely affecting his subconscious. He''d tried to account for the effect, to adapt, to work around it, but the fact that he could forget something as important as the one thing that could actually protect him, proved he couldn''t.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Think, predict, adapt, act. Think, predict, adapt, act.


    This was going to be different from his run-in with the rooftop bandits and he had to change strategy.


    They will have to move around the corner if they want to shoot me. They will have to get close and that''s my chance.


    "..."


    Step, Step, Step


    They were closing in.


    Centering himself, he leapt out, punching out with all he had towards the first man about to turn the corner.


    BAM!


    His fist connected, continued through the man''s nose and then, went even deeper. The sheer momentum of his fist sent the man flying headfirst into the ground and with a-


    CRACK!


    The neck snapped. Blood was leaking out from the back of the man''s head.


    Oh no, that did a lot more than knock him unconscious!


    Mentally brushing the mistake aside, he seized the moment of surprise. He rapidly took down two more of the men before the fourth man blocked his attack with a bionic arm. The two remaining men now had their guns drawn, pointing them straight at him.


    Instantly moving his head, he dodged one of the laser beams just before it fired.


    Thank the heavens for my new and improved reaction speed.


    The second beam however¡­ He could see the finger pulling back the trigger and knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to dodge. The burning hot beam pierced into his side. His mind went into overdrive as time seemed to slow down.


    Not good!


    Ronin''s other hand, in a flash, grabbed the fourth man''s neck. Using the neck as leverage, he dragged the man in front of him, using him as a makeshift shield against the incoming fire. This shield wouldn''t last long, so instead of trying to avoid the laser beam, he charged.


    Storming the last man while being blasted with lasers, Ronin, the shield, and the last remaining thug crashed onto the wet streets. This guy had gotten more enhancements than the others. With a limp "man-shield" between them, they struggled on the ground, searching for an opening. While grabbing and punching for anything that might hurt the man, Ronin suddenly felt a sharp sting of pain, radiating from his own neck.


    What was that!?


    Something was running down onto his shirt and breathing was becoming difficult. Ronin desperately tried to hit something vital.


    CLANG!


    He hit a metal enforced arm.


    THUD!


    He hit the ground.


    SPLAT!


    There it is!


    As his vision began to swim, he squeezed with all his might, before a CRUNCH! signaled the end of the fight. He looked upon the shattered skull of the enemy as the woman, the last remaining person here still conscious and "healthy", screamed. Ronin needed to run. A scream like that would cause a commotion, and a commotion would draw in more people.


    It wasn¡¯t supposed to go like this! Why did they sneak up on me like that? I only wanted a fight, not this!


    Ronin tore off his clothes, ripping them into strips of fabric and tying them around his stomach and neck. It would have to do. He was just so dizzy.


    He stumbled back onto his feet. He needed rest. He needed darkness to cloak him. But before that...


    He glanced down at the last two unconscious men beneath his feet.


    They won''t be very happy if they wake up and find their friends dead. Besides, I''ve already crossed the Rubicon now and there''s no going back. Sighing inwardly, he steeled himself and stomped down. One time for each man.


    It''s finished. He thought, feeling sick. He should have just run away when he saw them... Why couldn''t he? Was the hold of the artifact over him this strong? Could he not even run?


    He began stumbling back into the alleyway he had hid in earlier. Through his slipping consciousness, he spotted an overhang. If he could get up there, maybe it could let him rest a little. It was either that or dropping down right here right now.


    Settling in for one final push, he began scaling the wall. Each handhold, each grip feeling like his last.


    Just one more grip Ronin, just one more.


    He could barely breathe, he couldn¡¯t feel his hands anymore, but somehow, he eventually found himself upon the terrace.


    I don¡¯t want to explode, but I can''t do this sort of stuff either, I feel like I''m losing myself here, I need an alternative... His vision turned black, and exhaustion took him.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Ronin woke up groggy. He¡¯d survived somehow. Looking around, there was blood below his neck, his stomach as well. The blood had pooled up under him before running off the terrace, dripping down on the power line ridden ground below. There was a blood pool there as well apparently.


    How much blood did I lose? This has to be over a liter at least!?


    Rodents had begun gathering. He spotted a ruddle, slurping up the blood as it dripped into the small pool. Ruddles were hairless rodents, quite large, measuring almost half a meter, their pale skin was riddled with green veins. A long snout with a longer poisonous tongue hanging out, marked it as something that should have been an ambush predator. It was a scavenger now, along with most animals after humanity terraformed Concordia.


    Focusing on himself, he saw several wounds still covering his stomach. Mixed among bruises and cuts there was a burn hole, 4 cm deep. He should have died from these wounds! He checked the time. 3 hours had passed. Was it the alien artifact that had saved him? For some reason he could survive more damage and was healing faster.


    Pinging his Uninet-2000, he did a body scan, getting a transparent 3-D image of himself. Looking at the hologram, he checked his neck. At a closer inspection, it became clear how dangerous the situation had been.


    My common carotid artery got nicked!? Ronin gulped in horror. The common carotid artery was the main artery transferring blood to the brain. A cut in this artery meant certain death! Somehow, however, before he died, the artery injury had healed, and the bleeding had stopped.


    Still feeling like crap, he heaved himself up and headed for the chute leading out of the district. He¡¯d spent enough time here. The battle lust had disappeared, fortunately. At least he didn¡¯t detect any proclivities to put himself in mortal danger anymore.


    "..."


    Heaving himself out of district 101, he laid on his back panting. Never again am I going down there, well, never say never. He¡¯d be careful next time at least. Sneak in stealthily, bring some real armor, maybe with a jetpack like his academy suit. Good shielding also, some weapons as well maybe?


    Calling down a shuttle, a thought struck him as he walked past the sideways sliding door.


    Why not? It can''t hurt to ask, right? Ronin inwardly grumbled. After telling the driver the direction home to street 1204, he casually added a question at the end:


    ¡°By the way, eh, if you wanted, hypothetically speaking, to fight. How would you go about it?¡±


    ¡°Are you threatening me?! You know this vehicle is monitored and has emergency measures against robbery and theft, right?! God dammit, I should have known when I picked you up. Picking up someone looking like they came straight out of a war zone right beside district 101. STUPID! Why-¡±


    ¡°Wait! It''s nothing like that, I only want a ride back home, here, I''ll pay you in advance!¡± Ronin quickly interjected before issuing his Uninet-2000 a payment query.


    ¡°As you can see-¡± Ronin began by pointing at his body. ¡°Fighting is really not something I want to do myself either. But say, if you had to, what would you do? And how?¡¯¡¯


    ¡°For all I know you might be into that sort of stuff. You meet all sorts of people in my line of work I tell you. But as for having to fight? What a stupid question. Who asks that sort of stuff? Does it have to be a fight in reality? I¡¯ve played games where your character fights before. I¡¯d never fight in real life, better to have automated systems or the government do that for you.¡±


    Ronin perked up at the mention of games. That''s actually a good question! A+ for outsourcing when troubleshooting!


    Why does the fighting have to be in reality? He decided to explore this new avenue. Games that could be played on a lightly integrated optical implant would obviously not work. The game would have to replicate reality as closely as possible.


    ¡°Game you said. That''s a good point. Say, if you wanted to play the most realistically possible game out there, what game would you pick?¡±


    Pausing before swinging around a skyscraper, the driver scratched his head, thinking.


    ¡°As realistic as possible? Well, I''d be focusing more on the gaming platform instead of the game itself if that''s what I was going for. VR capsules are said to be so realistic you can¡¯t even tell the difference between the game world and the real world. VR games are said to be so addictive that the government actually did a prevention campaign a few years back. That said, I doubt someone like you could afford that. Those things are for the rich. There''s a reason why the government never banned it.¡± He chuckled. No idea at all that the scrawny, dirty and ragged boy behind him was in fact, a multi-millionaire.


    VR capsule eh, Ronin mused as he pinged his implant, dragging up several holo-screens in front of his eyes.


    Focusing in on the VR-capsule specs, he homed in on the most relevant parameter. The general neural resonance affinity. The higher the affinity, the better whatever game you played, simulated reality. Lag between thought and action, degree of fine muscle control, the realism of smell, taste and touch all depended on this affinity. Pain could as well, it might bother others, but Ronin suspected he¡¯d need that pain¡­


    In a dark room, of which few knew, and if they knew, they¡¯d know. This was a bad place to go. A silhouette of a woman sat there, silently sobbing. Two more silhouettes stood beside her, one on each side, but above them tall, sat a man clear to all.


    Raised on his chair, Specter was in a dark mood. The pustule ridden fat woman had recounted her story. Now the question was, did he believe it?


    5 men were dead. His men.


    ¡°Argus, find out who did this.¡± His deep voice rang, glancing towards his left.


    Glancing right, his eyes conveyed a deeper meaning as he spoke: ¡°Isamellos, take the lady away.¡±


    She would be tortured for information of course. A single boy, killing 5 of his men? They¡¯d been armed too. Ridiculous! He did know one thing though, the ones responsible for this would pay¡­dearly.

 Chapter 7: Spending galore

    Nagata maximus had stayed away from mind altering substances for days now. Naturally a bit paranoid from years of substance use to begin with, his last escapades did not help. Turns out taking the equivalent of 800 million credits from terrorists made you nervous. Right? Who¡¯d think of that when it was just lying there in perfectly untraceable cryptocurrencies!?


    He¡¯d been spending his time helping out his nephew, it helped take his mind off the constant fear and worry. The guilt he¡¯d been living with after finding out what happened to Holder and Xena, also seemed to ease when he helped the kid.


    He¡¯s only 18, he¡¯s too young. The truth would destroy him, his inner self almost seemed to religiously chant every time the question arose.


    Once again, as always Nagata arrived at the same answer: I will tell him when he¡¯s older.


    Scanning over the latest list he¡¯d arranged; he adjusted his bohemian style floral long coat and made the call:


    [Ahh, Uncle! How''s the search coming along?] He heard Ronin ask over the line.


    He quickly double checked the information he''d gathered. Everything was in order. [Yes, eh, good day. I¡¯ve been looking into spaceship factories available for purchase. Here, I¡¯ll send you a few lists covering some facilities at different price ranges.]


    There was a brief pause, as his nephew read over the file.


    [The premium quality ones look good; I''ve got credits to spend now, after all. Seeing as you''ve compiled the list, got any recommendations?] Ronin''s excited voice rang back.


    [The two most expensive properties are a little too high profile right now I''d say. I know raising your profile is important in brand marketing, but given that you''re currently trying to hide your wealth... Having the press showing up at your door is probably not a good idea.] Nagata answered back, sounding thoughtful.


    [Alright, I see them now, they¡¯re from formerly famous companies. Caused quite the stir when they shut down.] Ronin agreed.


    [Indeed, if you look down to entry number 5 however, we have an interesting option. The facility has a square shaped warehouse around 600 meters both in length and width, which should leave plenty of space for whatever you want to build. The factory itself being 300 meters long and 200 meters wide, is set up for ship construction up to the corvette size.]


    After settling on checking out the offer, they hired a real estate agent and set up a tour through the facility with the owners.


    ¡°As mentioned, the facility comes with an ongoing security contract providing protection against both robbery and surveillance. Ah, here we have the 3D-printer. It''s a second addition Hazamaki-S3, designed specifically for precision work for corvettes and smaller ships.¡± The tour guide explained as they walked across the complex.


    ¡°What does that mean? Precision work for smaller crafts?¡± Ronin interjected.


    The tour guide smiled like a shark; it was almost as if he''d been waiting for just such a question. ¡°The printer focuses more on creating high quality components instead of creating many cheap low-resolution parts. This means you can theoretically use this bad boy to print out almost anything. For example, it can print out the components needed for an antimatter reactor. No normal printer even gets close to that level of precision. It also has several inbuilt and paid for blueprints for common ship parts used in corvettes and shuttles. Finally, this specific model offers more manual control for the operator. It is also a good match for our more precision focused assembler."


    Learning how to 3D-print on a precise machine might be harder, but more rewarding in the long run. Ronin''s eyes shined as he began thinking of what he could make with this thing! The possibilities were almost endless.


    ¡°And do these machines come with an instruction manual?¡± Nagata asked.


    ¡°Naturally. We also have an existing relationship with their supply companies. Any minor issue you encounter with these machines, will be solved for free. More serious faults that require a more physical presence so to speak, will have to come out of your own pocket.¡±


    ¡°Is that an alloy compressor?!¡± Ronin exclaimed, noticing a large machine at the southern end of the factory.


    ¡°Indeed, unlike most other companies, we here at Ainz and Co. decided to develop our own compression formulas for outer hull alloys. Although it requires more work, it''s much cheaper to produce certain alloys in-house, as opposed to buying them off the market.¡±


    Limping quickly up to the machine, still injured from earlier, Ronin''s eyes lit up as he spotted the acid bath. ¡°A high-pressure compression chamber! It''s also primed with so many different acid solutions! Oh, and here is the after-bath chemical treatment.¡± Finally, while walking over to an enormous hydraulic press, he couldn¡¯t help but burst out:


    ¡°The final compression mechanism!¡¯¡¯


    ¡°You missed the cold working and heat treatment addons, but yes this machine can do most of the work for the properties you wish in your alloys.¡± The guide corrected.


    ¡°Why doesn''t the production belt of the 3D-printer lead to the alloy compressor?¡±


    ¡°Each machine is, for the most part, its own closed system. That is, the different machines spend a different amount of time on each job. That''s why, during a production run, we cannot do everything in one go. You would generally print out the parts first, strengthen the relevant alloys, then begin the final assembly.¡± The guide patiently explained.


    After discussing a little more on how the 3D-printer worked and how they''d go about printing out electronic components, they made their way over to the design studio.


    As the tour guide started gesturing at the various tools, he began: "This is a fairly standard design studio. What we have done however, is a comprehensive upgrade to its computational ability, allowing us to perform accurate simulations on how well the designed ship will do before it''s even assembled. Before printing a single part, you can get an accurate model of how good your design actually is.¡±


    Ronin had everything he needed here, Nagata was right. This facility was set up like a small scale, top of the line crafting studio. Instead of buying a generic mass-producing factory and employing hundreds of employees, he could start small here. If he bought this, he could begin training and designing years before he finished the academy!


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    I wonder¡­


    ¡°Does this facility have access to the quantum net?¡± Ronin asked.


    ¡°No, something like that is way above Concordia''s standard for factories like this.¡±


    Figures...


    The guide scratched his chin before continuing ¡°We do however have the infrastructure available to set one up. It will double the price of the property though. The quantum net is not exactly common this far away from the galactic heartland.¡±


    They actually have it!


    After finishing the tour and paying a hefty sum of 70 million credits, Ronin decided to contact the VR capsule company "Real world gaming". What made these guys special was how their VR company simulated the game experience in the real world. Be it through electrical stimulation, oxygen deprivation, heating or cooling systems, their equipment could allow your body to feel, in the real world, what you experienced in the game. Why would someone want to feel pain, having to exercise and freeze in the real world when they were just playing a game?


    Well, studies had shown how the introduction of VR technology had drastically increased both the obesity- and mortality rates of humans across the galaxy. Productivity had also gone down, and it was all in all, just a big disaster to human flourishment. The "Real world gaming" technology on the other hand made you healthier, it also had a higher neural resonance affinity, so the games felt more real.


    "..."


    Dialing up the company with the implant, he arranged for an installation in the factory he''d just bought. Turns out the latest version cost over 5 million credits and required a 10 by 10 meters area of free space, as well as 3 meters in height. This thing was huge!


    [Is this really a VR capsule? Why do you need so much space?] He complained when he found out.


    [Mr. Maximus, our product isn''t exactly a capsule. It''s more of a chamber and we really can¡¯t have this thing be any smaller. For a complete, real world sensory simulation experience, we can''t budge on this!]


    [This takes up a huge area of the building, it will interfere with my work.] Ronin complained, having no clue whether or not it actually would.


    [Listen, it''s not the capsule that requires the space, it''s the simulation environment for your body. For an optimal real-world experience, this amount of space is needed. From equipment which increases gravity, the difficulty of breathing, the real-world pressure felt when hit in-game etc. Top of the line equipment takes space Mr. Maximus...] The "Real world gaming" sales relationship manager said, exasperation trickling into his voice.


    5 million credits... That was about 1/4th of what a spaceship factory cost without the quantum net!


    This really is a plaything for the rich! Who could afford something like that? Ronin would never have wasted credits on something like this if he did not feel like he had to. His unwilling predilection for ending up in trouble had to stop. He¡¯d killed 6 people now. The first man, Darth, was in self-defense. The others though? Maybe, but he went to the 101st district looking for a fight! It was not the same circumstance, it was worse. Much worse.


    ¡°...¡±


    Heading home, Ronin spent all his time training. Working on the stances when his body could handle it. He did sit ups, pushups and pull ups when he had energy and studied spacecraft construction when he was tired.


    Every 8 hours, he did the stance exercises; it seemed to be the limit before something within him burst and broke. Every time he did the stances though, energy flowed through his body, repeatedly tempering it, again and again. By the third day, he¡¯d done the routine 18 times and was starting to get used to it.


    "..."


    Just a bit more!


    Feeling as if he was approaching a threshold, he pushed on, straining with every ounce of willpower he had, he locked in the 3rd stance.


    As if a release had been opened within his body, energy flooded his systems. And with that energy came the energy from the alien artifact as well. There was always a large improvement when he completed a stance and locked in the next one.


    Strength began flowing out from deep within, every part of his body was saturated by it. His ligaments became stronger and more elastic, his bones tougher, his thinking speed faster. Maybe from the sudden burst of energy, his body also began healing itself faster as well. The only remaining injury, the burn wound in his stomach, changed. From a 4 cm deep tunnel it swiftly began healing into something akin to a surface scar.


    He also worked on his mental palace. The internal model of the Goliath Class Mothership "The Worldmaker ED-07" became more stable as he slowly began repairing the cracks until as much as 10% of the damage was now healed. His memory also became a bit clearer and easier to access.


    By the seventh day, he¡¯d reached halfway towards the 4th stance. Clenching his fists and very satisfied with the progress he¡¯d made, he put on the uniform, ready to head towards the academy. It was finally time! His class was finally doing practical exercises related to spacecraft construction.


    As for the battle lust? Turns out all the hard work he¡¯d put in had helped out a lot. In 7 days, each day spanning 50 hours he¡¯d only gone out one time to fight. Being smarter about it this time, he had opted to climb the apartment complexes, reaching the territory of the rooftop bandits before he began hunting.


    ¡°Guys! It''s the maniac again!¡± One man shouted.


    ¡°Run!¡± Another had commanded.


    ¡°Sir I promise, I will earn an honest living from now on! Please stop chasing me!¡± One of the bandits had actually pleaded.


    Yeah, they¡¯d remembered him. Turns out he¡¯d somehow become a big of an urban legend in this community. These guys fortunately had no dangerous weapons, so fighting was much safer for both him and them. Batons and knives? No problem! He was nice that way. Since he was not in danger of dying, he could fight more conservatively, controlling his strength so that no one died this time. He had noticed that his battle lust decreased less after a less risky fight, so he¡¯d been running around for hours looking for more bandits to beat.


    With the academy uniform equipped, he headed towards the gravity assisted jet-bus. Dino the bus driver, jolly as always shouted:


    ¡°Ronin! It''s been two weeks since the accident and all I''ve seen and heard was a text message! Almost thought you died boy. Well, anyways, good to see you again. Going back to the academy?¡±


    Ronin shuffled back and forth in between the crowd going into different vehicles, quickly entering the jet-bus so as to avoid creating a jam.


    Spotting a free seat in the front, he huffed back apologetically:


    ¡°Can¡¯t say it was a smooth ride back that day, the shuttle actually got hit by a damn rocket.¡±


    ¡°Rocket?! Haha, stop exaggerating, fortunately for me I was off duty that day, so I never got to see the fireworks. Heard a lot of ships incurred damage though. Come to think of it, many people have been exaggerating what happened. A cousin of mine also spoke of rockets.¡± Dino the driver mumbled at the end of the sentence.


    They called them rockets because that''s what it was! Damn the ruddle government for calling it fireworks!


    ¡°It was a rocket.¡± Ronin mumbled back exasperatedly.


    ¡±Sure, sure whatever you say Ronny.¡± Dino chuckled.


    Ronin still couldn¡¯t forget the blatant lie about the attack that day. Fireworks? It looked more like a war zone. The Concordia network had been scrubbed of any footage of what happened as well. It should have been clear to anyone with a brain that this was a cover up!


    Oh well none of my business. Politics is what politicians should worry about.


    He leaned back in his seat and put on some electronic music: BADUMPH, BADUMPH, BADUMPH¡­ as the groovy electronic beat began ramping up, the soft female voice in the jet-bus began to count down: [Strap yourselves in, engaging thrusters in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.]


    VHROOM!


    As the G-forces ramped up as well, along with the beat, Ronin closed his eyes, a wide smile erupting on his face. How can anyone think about annoying and boring topics like politics when something like this is out here!

 Chapter 8: Fusion repair

    As the bus approached the academy, he opted out of doing a free dive this time. Walking normally onto the grass filled ground, like a perfectly normal upstanding citizen, he passed the green, vibrant trees as he headed towards the ship hangar. Breathing in deeply, light sparkled in his eyes as the rare woody smell ran through his body. There was just something about that smell, something primal.


    I don''t know what this feeling is, but I like it!


    As Ronin entered the hangar, he was greeted by a wide array of ship parts, from faster-than-light engines, fusion reactors, radiators for heat dispersion, to computers, cables, cooling pipes and atmospheric generators.


    Lined up in front of the juicy tech, stood 49 students and a single teacher.


    Oh no, I wasn¡¯t late, was I?


    ¡°Maximus¡­¡± the teacher began announcing, each syllable slow and deliberate.


    ¡°I see you finally decided to grace us with your presence.¡±


    The students began staring. Some chuckled.


    ¡°Is that the guy who''s been absent for so long?¡± One of them commented


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the guy with the perfect scores? He¡¯s definitely using a ghostwriter. Only showing up on day one and getting 100% on every single exercise? Hah, what a joke¡± A pompous youth claimed.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t he supposed to be dead?¡± Cough ¡°I mean retired from the academy like the others?¡± A voice hidden in the crowd questioned.


    He also heard several mentions on the strangeness of his new eyes and scars.


    Ignoring the chatter from the students, Ronin lined up with the rest of them.


    While half the students continued eyeballing Ronin, and not in a good way, the teacher patted his checkered blue and white suit, then cleared his throat:


    ¡°Well, since there is a new student among us, I will repeat myself. The focus of this workshop is HSE, that is: Health, Safety and Environment. Not all design labs and few factories focus on workplace safety. But I assure you the important ones do¡­¡±


    HSE! This is bullshit! If only these courses weren¡¯t mandatory, Ronin sighed, rolling his eyes.


    Pointedly looking at the sore thumb sticking out among the lined-up row of fresh academy students, the teacher continued:


    ¡°Yes. I saw that eye roll Maximus. If you are going to be late, at least respect the class. Now, if you pull up your academy uniforms information sheet. Enter the section for radiation measurement and you can see the different forms of radiation the suit can detect. Let''s start with Eizenshaft radiation¡­¡±


    Ronin already knew which types of radiation the suit could detect; he also knew the acceptable exposure limits of the human body. After saving up for-, and ogling the suit for over half a year, it''d be a miracle if he didn''t know all of its parameters given his eidetic memory.


    While the teacher droned on, Ronin snuck a few glances at his fellow students. They were still peeking at him!


    Sheesh, I can ignore a little staring and gossip, but these guys aren¡¯t letting up at all. Ignoring these students was apparently not going to be as easy as he thought.


    Ugh, whatever, Ronin pulled up a holoscreen description of the currently talking teacher.


    [Raverus Ravent, 59 years old, employed from 3381 - 3390 A.I. as maintenance technician for Exor Solutions. 3390 - 3402 A.I. executive manager for Exor Solutions, landbound division. 3402-3421 A.I. head researcher of landbound transport, Ironglades Space-Force Academy.]


    At least I know his name now, imagine calling him Mr. teacher if he comes over to talk. Hmm, he''s specialized in landbound ships I see.


    Landbound ships, operated on very different rules compared to ships designed for space. They didn''t have to worry about heat dispersion, radiation nor the pressure of vacuum, they also rarely had a FTL drive installed. That meant there was a lot of room for new design solutions impossible for proper spaceships. As a general rule of thumb, ship designers specialized into either landbound or space-bound ships.


    With regards to FTL drives, well, an interstellar jump in a gravity well, could get... complicated. In addition to gravitational interference, the planetary atmosphere-, as well as electromagnetic field, made jumps... risky. A FTL quantum jump could fail midway, causing only half the ship and crew to end up on the other side. Something from a higher dimension might also come along for the ride, heck, sometimes ships just disappeared, never to be seen again.


    ¡°Now! Let''s turn to a specific example...Hmm... Let''s start with a common reactor. Alright, who can answer what the main safety risks associated with the KGC-Fusion reactor is?¡± The teacher, or more accurately, the landbound ship researcher Raverus Ravent asked.


    ¡°Neutron particles escaping the reactor!¡± A bald fat youth exclaimed with a markedly pronounced lisp, raising his hand.


    Maybe he knows because he¡¯s been exposed to it himself? Ronin speculated.


    Looking at the academy uniform struggling to contain the short voluminous figure, he noticed a very clear double cheek. It was almost as if the bulging neck was fighting to get out of the suit!


    Who in this day and age walks around bald at 18 years old? It¡¯s either radiation damage or he''s part of some kind of cult.


    ¡°Not bad Simons, but not quite right. Neutron release does cause health problems, but you¡¯d have to be working alongside the fusion reactor for years before gene chain alterations start becoming a truly serious issue. Anyone else?¡±


    ¡°Destabilization of the magnetic containment field can lead to a containment failure if the engine is already running.¡± A brown curly haired girl pointed out.


    ¡°Yes, good point Anastasia. When an engine is already up and running there are a multitude of factors that can cause the engine to not only shut down, but potentially even blow up the entire ship. We call this risk factor "robustness". Generally, higher performing engines have a lower robustness factor. This makes it even more important to not make any mistakes when constructing high end engines. This also makes it necessary for skilled technicians to be working on those ships at all times to monitor and correct any anomalies that crop up when the engine is running.¡± Raverus Ravent said as he began moving his eyes, accessing his implant.


    ¡°Oh, 10 bonus points!" Anastasia exclaimed.


    ¡°Displays of excellence are generously rewarded in our practical programs. It is for that reason we have added the S grade for practical courses and practical courses alone. Here, your final grades will depend, not only on your performance during tests, but your work throughout the course itself here at the Ironglades space force academy.¡± Raverus remarked. A slight smile emerging at the corner of his lips.


    ¡°Anyone else?¡±


    Many raised their hands, though in the end, no one was given any more bonus points. The hearts of the students however, had been ignited.


    As the lesson moved on, the teacher pointed to the several assembly machines lined up against the eastern wall.


    ¡°The assignment for today will be to identify the faults in these KGC-fusion reactors. Then repair them and finally, we will activate the reactors and find out who of you have a future in spaceship design, and who does not.¡±


    Ronin''s eyes lit up as drones brought out several damaged reactors, aligning them with their respective assembly machines.


    This is it; I get to not only operate an assembly machine, but to actually repair a ship engine!


    As the head researcher handed out several handheld multiscanners, a notice informing the academy freshmen of the teams they¡¯d be grouped in, pinged their implants.


    Ronin skimmed through the team rooster. Hang on, isn¡¯t Simons the bald kid? I''m teamed up with HIM?


    ¡°Not to worry¡± Raverus Ravent chuckled as every team were sent KGC-fusion reactor blueprints specifying the components, their dimensions, the associated electrical parameters, as well as how to put it all together.


    ¡°Every tool needed for what I expect to be an excellent repair session, has been provided. If you find a damaged component, query the drones and they will bring out a spare. Oh, and on that note, in case there''s some greenhorns among you, I''ve attached an assembler instruction manual to the blueprints.¡±


    As the teams grouped up among their respective fusion reactors, Ronin began looking over all of the materials he¡¯d just been sent.


    There''s got to be over 800 pages here! How are we supposed to read this, let alone finish repairs in 8 hours?


    ¡°Leave it to me, my dad knows the curriculum administrator and had me practice on this engine type many many times.¡± The bald Simons confidently lisped.


    As Simons began operating the assembler, Ronin sat himself down on the cold metal floor and began reading.


    If Simons really knew how to operate the assembler machine, I might at least be able to finish reading the blueprints before the time is up.


    ¡°Hey, what are you doing? I know Simons said he¡¯d handle it, but you can at least try to be helpful!¡± one of the new teammates spoke up incredulously.


    ¡°Sorry, I was looking over the blueprints. How can I help?¡±


    Shaking her head, the student spoke back sardonically: ¡°Start by using that multiscanner, just send the data over to Simons. Or is that too much for you maybe?¡±


    Not bothering to argue, Ronin rose up and began working.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Seems I¡¯ll be tight on time. He now, not only had to operate the multiscanner while reading the blueprint. He''d also have to do it with enough time to spare, so that the issue with the reactor would be found. There was also the dilemma of actually fixing the reactor after they found the issue. All in 8 hours?


    Sheesh, it¡¯ll take a miracle to solve this.


    But... He¡¯d be damned if he was going to rely on Simons for everything.


    Time to get to work.


    "..."


    Time passed as Ronin did his best to skim through the blueprints while scanning the components the assembler placed out.


    As the team kept troubleshooting, trying and failing to figure out what was wrong with the engine, the assembler disconnected the reactor piece by piece. 2 hours had already passed and 60% of the reactor had been disassembled.


    Ronin paused. Looking around, he noticed how many of the other teams were far behind in the disassembly process.


    Where are they at? At most they¡¯ve disconnected 25% of the components. At least Simons is fast. He¡¯s got that going for him.


    Surprisingly, Anastasia''s team, the girl who got bonus points for her answer on Fusion reactor HSE, had only disassembled 10% of the reactor.


    Shrugging his shoulders, he went back into furiously trying to read the blueprint. By the time 3 hours had passed, Simons was apparently done. However, the team was no closer to finding out what was wrong with the reactor.


    Meanwhile, Ronin was only halfway through the dense and complicated blueprint.


    At this speed, there will only be 2 hours left to repair the damn thing by the time I''m done.


    Sitting down again, he closed himself off from anything other than the blueprint itself.


    As the blueprint pages began rapidly scrolling across his eyes, Ronin''s mind went into overdrive. As sweat began trickling down from his forehead, he began comparing the expected component specifications with the actual multiscanner data he¡¯d gathered.


    Time ticked by. From having 5 hours left to do the repair, it trickled down to 4 hours, then 3 hours...


    This is¡­ I know what''s wrong! Ronin''s face lit up in a big grin as he looked over at his team. They were also sweating by this point, but for a different reason. They were no closer to figuring out what was wrong


    ¡°Simons!¡± He called. The bulbous boy jumped at the sudden loud noise.


    ¡°I know what''s wrong with the reactor, can you put it back together again?¡±


    As the other team members were about to disparage Ronin again, Simons spoke up.


    ¡°With 3 hours left, we will be cutting it close, my personal best is about 2 and a half hours, we should be able to make it if we start now. But how can you know what''s wrong? You barely even looked at the reactor!¡±


    We¡¯ve got this in the bag then! With a slight smirk, Ronin began his performance:


    ¡°Maybe I didn¡¯t poke around at the reactor like you guys, but remember, I analyzed every single component you disconnected from the machine. By comparing them to the blueprint parameters. I found several components with values below safety limits.¡±


    ¡°You mean to say that of a machine containing over 10000 different pieces of complicated tech. You compared every single piece!? Every single piece has several specific values in and of itself and you somehow compared all of them?¡±


    Tutting at their disbelief, Ronin sent over his findings.


    ¡°As you can see, the values are off on these breeding blankets, the magnets containing the fusion reaction also show signs of damage. My guess is that if you analyze the magnetic properties of those magnets, you will find the reason why the fusion reactor is offline.¡±


    ¡°Playing a prank like this on such an impor¡­ OWW, I see it now. There is definitely something off here.¡± A female team member commented.


    ¡°This deviation¡­ It looks like heat damage.¡± Another added.


    Simons eyes lit up and he began to proudly explain, the lisp, still very much evident:


    ¡°My father told me about how these types of reactors often suffer from wear and tear. Also, if you crank up the output too much, it damages the heat buffer. A damaged buffer means a damaged magnet and a damaged magnet means runaway plasma and runaway plasma means-¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah we know, exploding reactor, goodbye spaceship.¡± Someone from the team finished.


    Ronin wordlessly thanked the man. Simons could be a bit much, seems the team agreed. That being said, Simons knew his stuff, without him they¡¯d be screwed.


    They had the drones fetch replacement parts and as time ticked by and 3 hours became 1 hour, they raced the clock. Ronin clenched his fists.


    10 minutes left! Come on!


    Somehow, right before the deadline passed, they¡¯d finished. The reactor was back together.


    ¡°...¡±


    Raverus Ravent, straightened his suit, electrically brushed his hair to the side, then called out:


    ¡°Times up ladies! Now, who''s up first?¡±


    Anastasia''s team were fast to raise their hands.


    Why are they raising their hands? By the time we disassembled 25 % of the engine, they were at 10 % and we barely made it in time!


    The reactor was transported into a blast chamber, diagnostics were run on it and with a nod from the teacher, it was booted up.


    It ran like water, smooth. Be it, radiation leakage, engine efficiency or magnetic deviation, all values showed green.


    ¡°Great job team. From now on you will be called team 1, you were the first to make yourselves known, and you did so excellently. Congratulations!¡±


    Ronin could see the bright prideful smiles on Anastasia and her team.


    Just how did they do it?


    ¡°Anyone else!?¡± Raverus Ravent called out.


    Not a single student raised their hands. Ronin''s team were whispering to each other. Apparently, they lacked faith in his solutions, despite him proving himself.


    If no one else is going to do it¡­ He raised his hand.


    ¡°Mr. Maximus¡­ I see you are raising your hand.¡± Raverus chuckled, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°We repaired the engine and are ready to test it.¡± He said back.


    ¡°You sure about that?¡± He got back, amusement coloring the question.


    Simons and his other teammates seemed to be trying to hide behind his back, covering their faces, looking down at the iron covered floor.


    ¡°Sure, if the so-called team 1 could do it, why not us?¡± Ronin snorted back. He was used to much more high-pressure situations than this. Some arrogant highfalutin teacher looking down his nose at him? What a joke!


    Raverus shook his head in exasperation. The rest of the class began whispering and pointing. Nevertheless, the engine was eventually transported to the blast chamber for testing.


    As various inspection programs began running on the engine, the teacher''s eyes began to widen. All systems lit up green. The engine was ready for live action testing.


    Ronin''s hands were shaking, this was it! The moment of truth, had his solutions worked?


    [Engaging reactor in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.]


    VZZZZ


    It worked! I was right all along. As Ronin celebrated inwardly, the engine ramped up and the diagnostics screen began showing the data.


    ¡°Less than 0.1% overall deviation from the blueprint standards. This reactor is running like it came straight out of the factory!¡± Raverus exclaimed, his entire face contorted in shock.


    Simons eyes lit up as he looked at Ronin with a fervor, he was not quite sure he was comfortable with.


    Hopefully it''s nothing.


    As the functionality test ran down, the teams were herded back together towards the entrance of the hangar.


    ¡°As you must have experienced, even simple repairs are difficult. Imagine serving on a starship, where you have to source the materials, print them out, as well as find out what''s wrong with the engine. Further, imagine doing this possibly in the middle of direct combat where every second you delay means one second closer to not only your own death, but the death of every single crew member!¡± Raverus cleared his throat.


    ¡°Got a bit off topic there, but the point is, you all, except team 1, screwed up. Tell us Anastasia, what did you do before you began to disassemble the engine?¡±


    ¡°We looked up how to run basic pre-ignition diagnostics on the reactor. Since we could risk an explosion, radiation damage or any other number of issues, we first checked the blueprints.¡±


    ¡°Exactly, did everyone hear that? Never just start the engine. Also, what you don''t do is just, out of nowhere, start disassembling the engine! Diagnostics first! Always diagnostics first! If you just randomly started disassembling an antimatter reactor, we¡¯d all be dead now!¡±


    Ronin mentally slapped himself on the head. Of course! How did we miss it? I''m blaming Simons!


    ¡°As for Mr. Maximus and his team, I still don''t know how you managed to repair that engine. No engine is supposed to be repaired that way.¡±


    ¡°I analyzed all the components and compared them to the blueprint values sir.¡± Ronin swung back.


    ¡°Impossible! None of you have the implants for it, if you did, I¡¯d know.¡± Raverus snorted.


    ¡°If you don''t want to say, fine. Regardless, I will award both your teams 20 bonus points for finishing the assignment on time.¡±


    With the exercise being over, Ronin decided to do some networking. He¡¯d made some contracts of employment along with Uncle Nagata for when he¡¯d begin hiring workers for the company.


    On that note, I should give the company a name. Quick fix spaceships? Doombringer incorporated? No, let''s make it simple. Ronin filled in the final piece required for the contracts of employment to be valid: The company name: Maximus Solutions.


    ¡°...¡±


    Anastasia clearly did not seem enthused about the offer, after a series of deflections, he finally got the point. She did not want to work for Maximus Solutions. As Ronin continued down the ladder of competence, getting rejected again and again, it finally struck him. Maybe his previous stunt was in fact, not enough for the adoration and praise he''d expected. Both him and Maximus Solutions lacked credibility. He''d moved too fast and had no track record nor achievements.


    ¡°Huh!?¡± Over the corner of his shoulder, he noticed Simons. Has he been following me this entire time? He noticed the expectant eyes on the bulbous boy.


    It can¡¯t be, can it? Does he want to join the company? He did know his way around an assembler. Ronin needed the manpower and he¡¯d already asked all the students who might be competent. Simons should be near the top of that list. For some reason, the thought of matching ¡®Simons¡¯ and the idea of "working together" caused his brain to spasm.


    ¡°Ah, Simons, didn¡¯t see you there.¡± Ronin got out awkwardly.


    ¡°I''ve been here a long time. You talked about a company?¡±


    Why do I feel like I''m being pressured?


    ¡°Ah, yeah. It¡¯s a small company seeking new talents for long term loyalty. Are you interested?¡±


    Simons picked his pockets, extracted an evaporation spray and began spraying his neck, seemingly trying to appear more presentable as he began:


    ¡°I might be very interested. When we were fixing the fusion reactor, did you really memorize the whole blueprint? It¡¯s not a trick, right?¡±


    ¡°No trick, it¡¯s part of the reason why the company hired me.¡± Ronin lied as he sneakily made some small adjustments to the contract, before handing it over to Simons.


    ¡°The employee is required to possess, or develop a strong ability to communicate?¡± Simons asked while reading the document, puzzled by the unorthodox requirement.


    "..."


    After assuaging Simons on the reasonableness of the strange new clause in the contract, Ronin headed home. He¡¯d aced the practical, acquired a helper and soon the factory upgrades would finish. He was feeling good.


    Arriving before his apartment, he happily began opening the door, before a CLICK rang out right below him.


    What the-


    BOOM!


    An enormous explosion rang across the entire floor. His academy suits single use shield protected him from some of the blast, but the energy shield was not built for something of this magnitude.


    As all went black and his consciousness faded, the building ignited into an inferno of flames.

 Chapter 9: Hunted I

    Darkness was all there was. From the grandest of scales to the tiniest of depths, it immersed the world like thick black ink. In between the darkness, something was taking place, seeing as it was blanketed, it wasn''t visible, but vision was not the only sense available. In the middle of the heaving, wheezing, the echoes of shouts and roarings, sat an 18 year old man. Conscious? Maybe. Awake? Most definitely not. The noise, the sensations and the creepingly unsettling feeling of it all, muffled him, kept him that way. You would think one would wake at such noise, yet it all felt so far away, besides there was something else there with him. Someone else.


    ¡°It is felt, is it not?¡± the presence asked. Defining the void.


    ¡°The crescendo of conflict gives life its very essence. It defines it, forms it, nurtures it. The fields of strife births true purpose and purpose is not ephemeral, never was¡±


    ¡°What is all this?¡± Ronin questioned. He but thought it, and it resonated out. The presence didn¡¯t answer for a while. Time slowed down and the noise which was somewhat coherent before became a discordant chorus.


    Then, with bounding power, the presence answered back!: ¡°The precipice of purpose, the ladder of ascension, the womb of gods! Many names, now, it is but taint.¡±


    Despite his eidetic memory, it was not only hard to parse the words. The memory of them itself seemed to slip his mind somehow as he tried to remember. They seemed to contain so much more than what was apparent on the surface, it felt as if his own vocabulary and language itself were impotent tools, scratching at something designed for a whole different universe of communication. As he did his best to chase the meaning behind what he just heard, a feeling of smallness overcame him. It was almost as if he was a speck of dust trying to swallow a city, he was simply too insignificant to the weight of this knowledge.


    This reminds me of when I inhaled atom spice, did I damage my brain somehow?


    As the presence faded, the darkness, which was everything, began retracting back into something, and with something, there was contrast. Brightness started heralding dawn and awareness came with it. The slow discordant noises began speeding up and sensation returned. Pain returned!


    As if pulled from the void, Ronin''s eyes shot up to a swerving landscape of chaos. An inferno lit up his apartment complex. He¡¯d been blown out of a window he remembered. At least that''s what it felt like as he noticed himself laying down amidst wails of pain and ruin. He must have fallen far. His room was on the 5th floor.


    Looking up at the burning structure of metal and concrete, the floor with his apartment was set ablaze. The whole thing was swallowed up by the raging flames. As the fire snaked up towards the 6th floor, he could see people looking down from above. Many were rushing out the front door, likely residents from the 4th floor and below. Above the 5th floor, some were climbing up, attempting escape by searching for another path out of the complex. He saw no one on the 5th floor however, there was only flame there, a blazing one at that.


    At the edge of his vision, people on the streets were hysterically running back and forth. His vision stabilized and he regained a little of his clarity.


    ¡°Sir, are you ok?¡± A figure looming over him questioned. Ronin tried to respond, but all he managed to get out were coughs and a groan.


    ¡°We got a live one here!¡± The figure shouted, presumably calling for help.


    ¡°Just hang in there, there''s medical teams on the way.¡± He began consoling. Ronin didn''t need consoling, and he certainly didn¡¯t need a medical team. A medical team would scan his body, take his blood. That could be much more dangerous than getting blown out a window with what he¡¯d gotten involved with. If he was discovered, he might just get executed, but even worse, he could end up as a lab rat for the rest of his life, experimented on until his body couldn¡¯t take it anymore.


    ¡°No need.¡± he managed to get out as he sat up as quickly as possible while trying to act healthy. Just as he sat up, a bright red light flashed past his eyes.


    What was that? The red light had been so bright he had to focus to see properly, but when he did, his eyes shot up in shock!


    ¡°What''s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?¡± The man standing over him asked, confused.


    ¡°Y-y-your chest sir..¡± Was all he managed to get out.


    Right in the middle of the man''s chest, a 3 cm wide hole had appeared and Ronin could see all the way straight through to the other side. As smoke began rising from the charred opening, he turned around, right where his head had been when he was lying down, a melted pool of metal and concrete had now formed.


    Laser based sniper rifle? Was this shot for me!? Ronin rolled out of the way as another shot pierced the man.


    ¡°What the-?" Was all the man got out before he began crumbling to the ground.


    Another shot flashed!


    Ronin needed to find cover. He pushed himself up and began sprinting down the street as a surge of adrenaline washed away the pain. Was something broken after falling down 5 floors out of a window? Probably. Did it matter? Not at the moment! He turned the first corner available.


    What in the world is happening?! Did the CLM find out that it was me? That I took from them? Maybe it''s because of what happened in district 101? Was it the rooftop bandits? No. The rooftop bandits are not capable of something like this.


    A new flash of light broke him out of his thoughts as the smell of burnt meat began rising from his left shoulder.


    Argh! There''s another sniper. If it was only one guy, I should have been safe after I turned the corner! Have I been surrounded or something? They are clearly after me now, I know that, that''s for sure. Ronin looked around.


    If he scaled the walls, he¡¯d literally end up as target practice to any willing sniper around. Maybe he could enter another alley? Though, if someone was stationed here, they might have a shooter ready there as well.


    He began running up to the forming crowd of gawkers, massing up to go to look at the burning building. These types of "tragedy voyeurs" always came to look when misfortune befell someone else.


    Well, this time if they want to look, they can at least share the risk and act as cover! Ronin thought as he bolted towards the forming crowd.


    As the shots kept coming, Ronin dove in. He was among them now, but the laser fire didn''t stop, and people started dropping. As full-blown panic erupted amidst the crowd, Ronin, fortunately, still only had a burned left shoulder, but this could not go on for much longer. The laser fire would begin hitting him sooner or later as the crowd dispersed. Spotting a manhole, Ronin lunged at it, ripped it open and dove in. Just in time too, as a laser beam began melting the cover right as he slipped down into the sewers.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As the nauseating stench hit him, he was reminded of district 101. Metal cables ran along the roof and walls as processing plants churned and purified acid water and waste from the tightly packed skyscrapers above.


    Quickly accessing his mental palace, he ran down an imaginary corridor where he¡¯d mentally placed his memories of Concordia''s maps. Now, where was it? Rapidly shifting through the documents, he slowly came to the realization that, out of the many maps he knew, sewer maps was not something he¡¯d studied.


    Nevertheless, he still knew the general direction of the planetary guard station in Ironglades. If anyone could protect him, it was them. They were supposedly in charge of law and order after all.


    He started jogging along the wall, staying away from the iron grates covering the foul sewage. He was injured and did not want his wounds getting infected as well. As his adrenaline began declining, the severity of his injuries became more and more evident. The burn on his left shoulder was obvious, but the 5-story fall from his apartment had hurt him good. His jog was janky, the act of breathing hurt and he was pretty sure he was bleeding from the back of his head, though that last injury was a bit hard to check right now.


    Wasn¡¯t I in a situation like this just a few weeks ago? Underground structure, few people around, hurt and injured, hunted¡­


    After turning another corner, the sound of metal clanging against metal started to ring along the corridors, his enhanced hearing picked up on people arguing, then¡­ the clangs of metal intensified, it increased in tempo. His pursuers were jogging now.


    He could hear two pairs of footsteps ahead of him and three behind. Was there a side tunnel he could enter? A path out? A path clear of the sound of footsteps, clear of whomever was chasing him? Not that he could see.


    Continuing on, he scanned frantically for another way out. Anything would do, as long as he didn¡¯t get boxed in, it was enough, he wasn¡¯t greedy. Ending up in a firefight here was the worst possible option he could think of. The corridor system in the sewerage was well lit, there was nowhere to really hide and the corridors were long. Perfect for someone with a ranged advantage.


    An eerie tune of a man''s whistling echoed along the metallic walls.


    ¡°Ooh Ronin? Ooooh Roniiin? You know what you¡¯ve done.¡±


    His golden eyes were now going beyond just frantically searching for an escape. They had become erratic, bloodshot, his heartbeat increased. Was he really surrounded? There had to be another path!


    ¡°You¡¯ve got no way-out Ronin. Hah! Do you have any idea how much Argus invested in this operation? He actually said he wanted to make an example of you, you see. Oh¡­ and let¡¯s not even get started on that juicy bounty on your head.¡±


    As the cackling echoes of laughter rang through the tunnels, Ronin could hear more footsteps being added to the mix. How many people were chasing him now? It was 5 before, but now? It had to be over a dozen.


    Based on the sound of their footsteps and the average human jogging speed, how much time before there''s a confrontation? 5 minutes? No, I probably don¡¯t even have more than 3 minutes before they reach me.


    After another minute of janky jogging, he spotted a rusty door. He almost didn¡¯t notice it based on how well it was integrated into the wall. Firmly welded shut and partially painted over, this was clearly not something in active use.


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    Fuck it


    He went for it. Punching with all his might, his fists banged into the wall, the sound of groaning metal rang across the sewer system.


    CLANG!


    Another punch, then another. He walked back a distance, then ran at full speed, ramming the door with everything he had.


    CLAANG!


    As rust from the door fell off his right shoulder, he noticed. The door had bent. He could do this. He walked back and did it again. He was putting his body''s regeneration to the test, that''s for sure.


    Come on you rusty piece of junk, just give!


    After the 3rd shoulder crash into the old metallic door, the welding finally gave out and snapped, blasting open. What greeted him next was supposed to be darkness, but Ronin''s golden eyes could see.


    Hidden and forgotten by Ironglades, the city''s past revealed itself. Overhangs, rusted pipes, abandoned rails and chopped up halves of skyscrapers covered the landscape. This area was wide, much wider than the sewer. The smell of old dust and rust touched his nostrils.


    What could cause someone to just abandon so much of the city? It''s like a whole sectioned-off world down here, Ronin wondered in puzzlement as he jumped down the 20-meter drop.


    As the thrust from the jetpack assisted landing cleared out the dust surrounding his touchdown zone, it became evident that continuing his janky jogging was out of the question.


    The steel jungle around him ran deep. He¡¯d actually landed on an accumulation of steel beams and pipes, supported by buildings and tangled wires. Everything likely having avalanched down from above.


    My improved balance should make traversing this easier for me than for whomever is chasing me He thought, then began balancing along whatever seemingly stable beams he could find. Some beams had less rust so hopefully they would hold. He might be screwed, but he was less screwed now than a minute ago!


    In the sewers, around an opening in a wall, 15 people were just standing there, frowning, confused and deflated.


    ¡°Sir, what do we do now?¡± one of the men asked.


    This did not go as it was supposed to. From the very start, surefire ways of finishing what was supposed to be an easy operation, had somehow failed, again and again. The hit job was supposed to be done shortly after they planted the whole floor with explosives, but the target miraculously survived.


    In the highly unlikely scenario that the target did survive. The backup snipers were supposed to finish the job. Easy right? No, not easy, somehow every shot they fired missed. Finally, when the target was perfectly surrounded in the sewers, some never before seen additional path out had revealed itself. Once again, the target had escaped.


    I don¡¯t like it¡­ Garnic thought.


    There were just too many miraculous coincidences happening back-to-back for something like this to be happenstance.


    If it really is random? Is he receiving help of some kind?


    He suspected that someone might be out there, influencing the events. Now, blindly unaware, they could all be under the cold gaze of the planetary guard. Besides, if they weren¡¯t targets of the guard already, they would be. They had gone too far for something like this to be swept under the rug with bribes and favors.


    ¡°Call the rest of the squads, we¡¯re going in. And have them bring over the spectral glasses so we can see through this damn darkness!¡± Garnic ordered.


    We can¡¯t back out now, Argus will do more than kill us if we fail this. he inwardly shivered.


    Time passed by as Ronin made his way through the silent city. He''d gauged the distance between the ground below and the ''roof'' above to be at least 300 meters. Railways, likely a technology of the old world covered the steel floor below. In a way this place felt like a time capsule. Above it all he was balancing along beams, pipes and cables. Not an easy feat when you were injured. Having nearly fallen several times, he¡¯d had to use his jet pack to get back on the trail. Having also been forced to activate his jet pack to jump several gaps, his suits fuel supply was now at 50%.


    Any and all adrenaline was long gone by now. The weight of his injuries had really begun to sink in. He was not just hurt, he was tired. Most of his near falls had happened just recently and he needed rest. For about 10 minutes now, he¡¯d been looking around for a shelter, but most of what he saw was too degraded to be of any use. As he passed by another building, a new area opened up to his vision and his golden eyes began the scan¡­


    There!


    Jumping off a beam, he briefly landed on a thin vertical pipe, sticking up from the depths. It swayed, began to creak and pieces of it started falling off. Swiftly, he jumped off, landing on the terrace of a dilapidated building. He entered the half broken door and¡­ surprisingly, the old building didn''t smell too bad.


    There were chairs, tables, sofas and food. Really, really old canned food, yuek. He was too tired to look for a better place and this was the best shelter he¡¯d found yet.


    This place will have to do, he thought as he began barricading the entrance. Finally, he rubbed out a small lookout hole on the thick dirty windows before laying down.


    My whole place burned down. Everything left from mom and dad was in that place. Now I have nothing left. I¡¯m on the run again as well. That''s fucked up. I don¡¯t even know who I''m running from. That''s even more fucked up.


    Looking out of the small, cleared up patch on the window, the sheer immensity of the dark, desolate city became evident. Far off in the distance, an enormous silo complex could be seen. Closer, amidst the broken skyscrapers he could see a wide river flowing towards him.


    Wait, that''s not a river!


    As the "river" got closer, what it actually was, became clearer. Hundreds of thousands of ruddles were storming across the city. Like a horde, the hairless long tongued poisonous rodents, swarmed along the streets, on top of overhangs, along beams and in between wires.


    What were they running towards? Heck, how¡¯d they find enough food down here?


    Wait, the sewers! Are they eating sewage waste? And they don¡¯t seem to be running towards something, it''s almost as if they¡¯re running away. At that moment, Ronin spotted them. Pale humanoid figures were running along the swarm, blending in among the chaos.


    What in the world are those things?! It''s almost as if they are herding the ruddles!


    As the swarm got closer, it eventually reached the building and began passing by the lookout hole on the window. He could hear the animals bumping against the wall, but amidst the chaotic noise there was something else as well¡­


    Knock, knock, knock


    Knock, knock, knock


    What is that sou-


    Right in front of the lookout hole, a pale, eerily human-like, bald head had appeared.


    Knock, knock, knock


    The light of intelligence blazed clearly in the creature''s eyes.


    Ronin approached slowly. Not knowing what to do, he knocked back:


    Knock, knock, knock


    For a moment they just stared at each other, the chaos outside vanishing in front of the weight of this strange interaction. Then the moment passed, and the creature was gone, lost in the storm of ruddles.


    What kind of place did I just stumble into?


    Garnic looked over his holographic display. They were 105 men strong now. He would not fail again. Literally, everyone that could be called, had been called. Those 105, were now spread out looking for a needle in a haystack.


    ¡°Damn kid!¡± He grunted out before tapping the intercom.


    [Role Call!] He shouted into the comms.


    [Team 1, ready and waiting.] The soft voice of the team leader of team 1 answered.


    One by one the teams responded back. Finally, the last team called in.


    [Team 21 here, what''s the deal!?] The loud gruff voice of their team leader spoke back.


    All the teams were supposed to have reported in, but as Garnic looked over his display, he noticed he''d missed one. Throughout this entire exercise, one of the teams had been suspiciously quiet.


    [Team 3, Do you copy?]


    [Team 3, Respond!]


    Heavy breathing could be heard at the other end of the line. Garnics holoscreen still showed team 3 as green, that is, the team hadn¡¯t signaled they were in any form of distress.


    [Stand by.] He finally heard back.


    [Team 3, What''s your status?]


    What in the world is going on? He could clearly hear the team leader. He was still there. He still had access to his comms. What could cause them to not answer?


    Finally, Garnic''s holoscreen signaled that the team was ready to respond as the green dot hovering beside the team 3 call sign began blinking.


    [Boss, I thought it was a river, but it''s a horde. A damn stellarian horde!]


    Garnic rubbed his head in frustration.


    [Team 3, Clarify.] He all but shouted over the intercom.


    [Ruddles boss, tens of thousands of them. My team got swarmed, I''m all that''s left.]


    Chaos erupted over the intercom as Garnic eventually had to forcibly silence the other teams.


    Damn lack of professionalism, why did I even expect a bunch of criminals to follow protocol. Not like we are risking our lives or anything, he sarcastically remarked to himself.


    With only Garnic having speaking access over the intercom now, it was time to get these idiots in line:


    [Listen, this goes to every team. When your team is in distress, flip the switch on your display, so we all know what''s going on. If you don¡¯t, all hell could break loose on your end and not a single team would know. That means. No. Help. Will. Come. So, follow the damn protocol from now on. Now, Team 3, continue.]


    He gave what little remained of team 3 back their access.


    [COUGH! Sorry ¡¯bout that boss, I''m transferring my location over right now. The swarm though, it was so big the spectral glasses couldn¡¯t cover it. All I know is the swarm was headed towards me before I ran.]


    After receiving the information, it dawned on Garnic. Team 3 had scouted far ahead, directly in front of them.


    A horde he called it¡­ If it really is as large as he claims, we¡¯re all in the shitter!


    [All teams scatter! Seek shelter immediately, the horde is coming straight at us!]


    Garnic restored comms access. As the teams started scrambling towards safety. He looked over his display. They remained green.


    A minute passed, suddenly, team 5s dot turned orange and began blinking.


    [Team 5, report.]


    [Sir, we¡¯ve lost 2 members! The horde just suddenly swarmed us. Me, Hugin and Dappie have barricaded ourselves in an abandoned building, but I don¡¯t think seeking shelter will be of much use. They¡¯re breaking through the barricades as we speak!]


    Garnic immediately cut team 5s access to comms. The last thing they needed now was panic and confusion. Seeking shelter was the only option. They neither had the terrain nor the right weaponry to fight a whole horde of those things. Having subordinates question his direct orders over the comms? If he allowed that, he might as well call off the mission right now and be done with it.


    As he climbed along the abandoned pipes, searching for shelter, he snuck a peek at the display. 7 new teams now showed their status as orange, BIP, another one. This team showed their status as red, meaning only one member or less remaining.


    Out of a total of 21 teams, almost half have lost members. Blast it, we haven''t even caught up to the boy yet. Garnic was angry before, now that anger was turning into unease.

 Chapter 10: Hunted II

    Ronin had tried for over half an hour before he finally managed to get some sleep. The cacophony outside had gotten so bad, he¡¯d feared the poisonous animals would break down the wall. Somehow, in spite of the bombarding noise, he¡¯d been so tired that, even a horde of ruddles couldn¡¯t keep him awake. He checked his implant. He¡¯d slept for over 3 hours and there were still ruddles running outside the building. What remained of the horde now, was, well, not a horde. Just a bunch of ruddles frolicking about. He could deal with that.


    Fortunately, his shelter survived.


    If the wall broke down while I was sleeping and thousands of those veiny, poisonous rodents swarmed me¡­ Ronin inwardly shuddered.


    He had to leave sooner or later, his injuries, which still had not healed despite his alien improved regeneration, was proof of that.


    Still, last time, when he did the stances from the gate he''d opened in his mind palace, his body had healed much faster. Perhaps he could use that? He began organizing everything he knew of the alien legacy:


    I''ve already opened one gate which gave me the stances and the Near-Death-Sight. Let''s see how many gates there are, Ronin thought as he closed his eyes and began walking around inside his mindscape.


    As he began counting, he also started organizing the gates into various sizes. None of them looked the same, but some of them were gigantic compared to the others. He''d only managed to open the smallest gate, so he reasoned that those bigger gates, probably had more knowledge. He opened his eyes, accessed his implant and created a table:


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9696%; background-color: rgba(2, 7, 40, 1); border-style: double" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8084%">Name</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1702%">Ronin Maximus</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8084%">Paradigm</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1702%">Potentia Panorama</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8084%">Gates</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1702%">Great gates (0/9), Major gates (0/2187), Minor gates (1/17487)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8084%">Body techniques</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1702%">Stances: Kalvrakian Embrace vol.1 (3.5/108)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8084%">Combat techniques</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1702%">Near-Death-Sight (??/??), enhanced instincts</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Ronin had no clue on how much progress he''d made, nor could make with the Near-Death-Sight technique. He also had no clue how his improved combat instincts really worked. Could they even be trained?


    The stances however, had a very clear progression path. A few days ago, after completing the 3''rd stance, even the burn wound, piercing several centimeters into his stomach had mostly healed. He was halfway done with the 4th stance, if he completed it now, perhaps...


    Ronin lowered his legs into a deep stance, harmonized his breathing, closed his eyes and imagined the energy flowing through him. Halfway through the first stance, deep pain flamed up from his left shoulder almost breaking his concentration. By the time he started on the second stance, his entire body hurt, he was nauseous, dizzy and every single injury he had, screamed. His concentration broke.


    I can''t do it, he sighed, plumping down to the floor. He was too injured.


    He shelved the idea of resting more, then trying again.


    They¡¯re still out there, hunting¡­ hunting me. I can¡¯t assume they didn¡¯t follow me into this place. Getting to the planetary guard station should take first priority. He could think of healing his injuries later. Still dizzy he rose to his feet and began moving towards the door.


    Opening the door, he shook himself, kicked a ruddle out of the way, dodged a surprise tongue lash from yet another ruddle, then jumped onto a not-so-rusty steel beam. He began moving towards the silo complex in the distance. Past it, if he could find his way back into the sewers again, he¡¯d be right under the guard station.


    Garnic furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over the display. 62 members had ended up either dying or getting injured to the point of having to remain behind. The horde had taken them by surprise and the result¡­ Devastating. The pale skinned rodents had not only poisoned the majority of his team, but the wide range of diseases and parasites they carried would probably leave the survivors with months of medical attention after this was done.


    One of the many orange and red dots now denoting his teams began blinking, he switched on comms.


    [This is team 9, Over.]


    [Copy that, Go ahead.] Garnic responded.


    [We¡¯ve got eyes on the target.]


    Garnic was stunned. Had they finally gotten a break for once? He had to make sure.


    [What''s its heading? Can you transmit over a spectral image?]


    He waited the agonizingly long seconds for the image capture and the following transfer to happen before a ping finally signaled a successful delivery. And there it was, in all its glory. The target.


    [He¡¯s heading towards what looks like a silo complex, do you want our team to intercept?]


    [Negative.] Garnic wanted to make sure this time. He broadcast the next message to everyone:


    [All teams form up. We will all be intercepting the target this time.]


    They were over 40 people. They knew his location, where he was headed, and they were faster. There would be no more miraculous escapes this time. This day Ronin would die!


    As Ronin was making his way towards the silo complex, his suit began beeping. No... it was not low on energy. Instead of the softer quieter type of alarm, hard, loud, continuous beeps blasted his ears.


    A radiation warning!? Startled, Ronin immediately pulled up his suit''s radiation menu.


    The academy suit was designed for lab work and radiation detection was naturally one of its primary functions. There were horror stories aplenty of instances where people got sick, died early or mutated, unaware they were being irradiated daily every time they went to work.


    Eizenshaft radiation¡­ This is the radiation Raverus Ravent spoke of just earlier today.


    There was no point in a memory palace technique for this scenario. Ronin knew exactly what this radiation did. Rated as one of the more dangerous types, this exogeneous energy was virtually unstoppable, passed through almost everything and acted swiftly. In contrast to most normal forms of radiation however, no textbook explained where this energy came from. The textbooks were, however, all very clear on one thing. If you got exposed to it, leave immediately, and if you can''t, inform your superior officer.


    Mutation¡­


    This energy was swift acting and mutated the body in all kinds of ways. Hair loss commonly happened first. Beyond that, the textbooks got oddly vague on the specifics. Hair loss could happen from hours to minutes. It all depended on the strength of the radiation.


    Ronin looked at the values rising as he closed in on the silo complex¡­ At this rate he wouldn¡¯t even make it across before his hair was gone and that was only the beginning of what could happen.


    A detour it is then, he thought as he scanned his surroundings. As he began scouting ahead, he got an eerie feeling of being watched.


    Did they find me? Wait, if they already know where I am and haven''t attacked yet... could it be that they''re planning an ambush? If so... Perhaps if he moved close enough to the silo complex, his pursuers would use it as an ambush site. It did look like a good place for such a thing after all. Lots of cover, tall structures with a wide field of vision. Also, radiation detection was a specialized addon designed for lab suits. What were the chances they had something like that?


    This might actually work.


    He altered his path. He had to be very precise on how he did this....


    Garnic and his teams were in position. Although the kid, for some inexplicable reason, suddenly decided to move around the silo complex, he was still more than close enough for their sniper rifles. All they had to do now was wait for him to enter their kill zone and this miserable job would end. There would be no mistake nor coincidence saving his life this time. They had tried to station some men directly in front of him after he changed directions, but despite the injuries, the boy moved fast. They had a team shadowing him from behind as well, just in case.


    Unbeknown to Garnic and anyone else in his crew, as he tilted his head to the side for a more comfortable position, an inconspicuous strand of hair silently detached, then quietly fell off his left eyebrow.


    Ronin had spotted his would-be attackers early, but what could he do? He was already moving as fast as he could. He could seek cover and hunker down, but he would only end up surrounded. These men were not like the CLM goons he¡¯d encountered on his first day at school. They had more than enough sensory equipment to pinpoint his location despite the pitch-black darkness.


    Fortunately, the hunters had taken the bait. The silo complex. He didn¡¯t know how long it would take for them to be affected, but there was ALOT of radiation there. Just taking a few steps closer had caused his suits alarm to go haywire. A single step had doubled the radiation levels to well above safety limits hundreds of meters away from the complex. He could only imagine how high the values were at its core.


    5 men were stalking him from behind, ahead many more lay in wait. He did have a path through though. After careful scouting, he''d chosen a long trench between two rails. Not deep enough to be noticed, but deep enough to shield him. Even further ahead, rusted remnants of haphazardly abandoned vehicles covered the landscape. It was a viable path, too close to the source of the Eizenshaft radiation, but he wanted his hunters deep inside the heart of mutation.


    As he got closer and closer to the trench, the agonizing act of pretending not to be smack dab in the middle of several sniper scopes, became harder and harder. When would they begin the ambush? Was it after his next step, or 8 steps after that? Maybe they knew of the trench and that he was aiming for it. Was him reaching the trench, never an option to begin with?


    Step after step, he did his best to walk like someone unaware of the ambush, but by the time the furrow was but 10 meters away, the nerves got to him. He couldn¡¯t take it anymore. He found a solid groove in the ground, pretended to fall, crouched his legs, then, just as his nose was about to touch the ground, he activated his jetpack and kicked off with everything he had!


    At the edge of his vision, brilliant red lines of light flashed. New pain compounded upon his old, he¡¯d been hit, and it was more than once. Crashing back down onto the ground, he gasped for breath. He was in the trench now... and he was alive. Trying to ignore the new injuries, he crawled ahead.


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    "Did we get him!?" He heard one man shout.


    "I nicked him! I nicked him good!" A gruff voice broke out in excitement.


    Amidst the laser fire, a commanding voice broke through the noise. "Team 21 and 10 with me! He jumped into a channel of some kind. Come on boys, lets confirm the kill!" It was the man who''d told him about his bounty. The man from the sewers. The Whistler.


    As Ronin continued crawling, burning rays broke through the cover, both behind and in front. As he climbed around the sludge the onslaught left behind, he noticed how the flashes of light grew sparser.


    Are they letting up for the Whistler to come and confirm the kill?


    Then he heard it. Among the shouts coming from the silo complex, there was now something else as well. Discordant screams of sheer panic began intermixing with the noise. The atmosphere had changed.


    As he exited the trench, he quickly pushed ahead in between the cover of two rusted vehicles. Surprisingly, the visual spectacle had ended. They''d stopped shooting but there was now something else mixed in with the screams and shouts coming from the complex.


    ROAR!


    Behind him, he could see his 5 pursuers entering the trench, about to follow him, but his improved sight could see that something had changed. Their eyes were now filled with confusion and fear, no longer the eyes of hunters. Taking swift glances over the embankment, they slowed down, stopped, turned, then began running away.


    Ronin snuck another glance towards the silo complex as well. What he saw horrified him. His ambushers were in complete chaos. He noticed one man with an inhumanly large mouth, bite through the leg off another. One man looked like an extreme version of a hunchback and had claws growing out, replacing his fingers. Another man had mutated to the point that he must have been half his original height. His head moved around so fast, he seemed to be moving through time differently. As the twitching head locked onto a new target, the short mutants entire body began shaking with excitement as with inhuman speed, he ran, attacking another team member with abandon. At this point, the only commonality shared by his ambushers were their lack of hair.


    It had all happened so fast. Before he jumped into the trench everything seemed normal.


    Now I understand why the textbooks only said you should inform your superior officer if you can''t leave the radiation zone... It''s so they can remove the threat before you mutate. Ronin shuddered at the realization.


    No use thinking about it now, he had to get out of here. The warning signal still ringing from his suit promised an ominous fate should he linger. He was still being affected by the same thing that turned those men into monsters.


    ¡°...¡±


    Ronin kept moving towards where he¡¯d estimated the planetary guard station would be. He''d found an intact skyscraper and climbed up the stairs.


    How long has it been since the ambush? 30 minutes? An hour?


    Regardless of how much time had passed, he was out of the radiation zone. He could still hear roars and shrieks behind him, meaning whatever happened back there, was still very much... well, happening. He was close now. The guard station was just above. All he really needed now was an access point, a weak point, whatever¡­ He needed to get back up into the sewers which meant another door he could pry open somehow.


    Spotting an irregularity about 40 meters up, he began moving. The faster he got out of here, the better. His hunters had seemed completely unaware of what was happening to them, right up until they suddenly mutated. The radiation scanner showed he was safe, but this whole section of the city had been closed off for a reason and Ronin was pretty sure that this radiation had something to do with it.


    He brought his left hand up and began ruffling his hair, he noticed hair falling off, but it wasn''t much. The normal amount then? Or was it a little bit more than normal?


    I''ll go crazy if I keep thinking about this. Get to the guard station first


    With the help of his jetpack Ronin reached the irregularity. Taking a closer look, he gently stroked his fingers across the edges of the slightly different material. This confirmed it, he could feel the weld.


    ¡°Jackpot!¡± He couldn''t help but exclaim in excitement. Immediately regretting it as the pain from his injuries flared up.


    "..."


    A lot of hard work, troubleshooting and erratic shouts of profanities later, he was out. Finally.


    Still, there were the 5 men who''d shadowed him before. They''d been exposed to the same concentration of radiation as him and though they¡¯d ran when their comrades began to mutate, that did not mean they wouldn''t follow him. There was also the whistler, he, along with two teams had left the complex before the mutation truly took hold.


    Ronin looked himself over. It was bad, one laser had barely grazed him, but the right side of his left thigh was toast. Psyching himself up, he stuck a finger into the wound, gritting his teeth as he felt how deep he''d been burned. Not good, the wound reached almost halfway through to the other side.


    The thought of resting inside the disease infested sewerage was struck from his mind immediately.


    Screw it. He sent Nagata a message, informing him of his situation, then began looking for an exit.


    ¡°...¡±


    Having unintentionally stumbled around like a drug ridden hermadvorf, he¡¯d eventually found a pothole, climbed out, and continued on towards the guard station. Receiving looks of weariness and caution along the way, he could only imagine how bad he looked as he stumbled along. This had gone beyond just looking injured. People actively avoided him.


    Finally reaching the station, he reached out to the nearest officer, recognizable by the standard black and yellow uniform custom to the Planetary Guard.


    ¡°Uaghhhrrr¡­.¡±


    That did not come out like he planned. The government worker looked over at him with skepticism, likely wondering what kind of presence had dragged its way over this time.


    "There''s no food here, begone." The man shouted with disgust.


    Focusing, Ronin tried again:


    ¡°Whualp¡­COUGH! Help¡­¡± He managed to get out.


    To make it clear he was not some lost, bewildered drug fiend, Ronin accessed his implant, pinged the man and added an information package with his details as well as a short explanation of the attack on his apartment.


    As the officer was about to try to shoo him away again, his face lit up in surprise as he looked over the information package.


    ¡°You¡­ were involved with the attack on district 91?¡±


    ¡°Attacked¡­Cough!... I was attacked, yes¡± Ronin managed to say back.


    The officer froze, likely communicating with his superiors, nodded, then gestured for Ronin to follow him in.


    Entering the station, there was a strange atmosphere in the room. Too focused on his own injuries and the possible mutations he might have gotten from the Eizenshaft radiation, Ronin didn¡¯t notice.


    Following the officer, he eventually entered a cramped room. Seeing the bolted down chair and handcuffs on the table, alarm finally began rising within him.


    ¡°Sit, you will be questioned later.¡± The officer ordered.


    ¡°Sir, I was attacked, my home was blown up, I''m injured.¡± Ronin restated more clearly this time.


    The officers face became strict as his tone turned commanding. ¡°Are you resisting arrest?¡±


    Looking quickly over his shoulder, Ronin noticed two more officers behind him. They began reaching for their weapons.


    ¡°No no no, I just don¡¯t see why I¡¯m being treated like this when I am the victim?¡± He said as he quickly sat down. Still in shock, he watched as the officer cuffed him to the table. Not answering, the officers simply left the room, leaving Ronin alone.


    It took hours, not a soul came to visit, nobody called, in fact, all forms of transmission had been blocked. Some kind of dampener field or something, he hadn¡¯t seen or felt anyone tampering with his implant, so it wasn¡¯t that. Maybe the cuffs contained some kind of interference technology?


    As his thoughts kept wandering, the door finally opened. A professional looking man came in.


    "Ronin, where were you today?" the man asked.


    This was all wrong¡­


    "I came to seek protection, I was attacked! You can¡¯t do this!" he answered. This was not how it was supposed to go at all!


    "Ronin¡­ over 100 people are dead... let me remind you of your rights. You don¡¯t have any, no right to legal counsel, no right to remain silent, we can lock you up for as long as we want. It shouldn¡¯t be THAT surprising right? Considering what you did."


    "I didn¡¯t do it! Thats why I came here, I''m running from the ones who did!" Ronin began, trying to defend himself.


    "And where are these people chasing you now?" the man asked him, leaning forward.


    "I escaped into the sewerage but got surrounded. I had to break through an old door, welded shut, into a dark abandoned part of the city." Ronin knew the moment he said it. There was no way they¡¯d believe that.


    "So¡­ Let me get this straight. You were not only hunted by multiple people, but you also discovered an ancient and forgotten city!?" The man paused, his eyes piercing into Ronin''s.


    "This is your evidence of not having done it? We already know you did it, not only did we discover that the explosion was triggered from your apartment, but we have also more than enough eyewitness testimony to put you away for life. The only thing I want to know is why? That''s the only reason you are still here right now and not in a cage."


    There was no way Ronin would admit to something he didn¡¯t do. Should he break out? No. He might be strong and know how to fight now, but he¡¯d learned a valuable lesson today. A big fist was not enough in this day and age.


    Besides, he did have an alibi! The evidence for him not having done it was the fact that when his hunters placed the explosives, he¡¯d been at the academy.


    ¡°Listen, the moment I arrived from the Ironglades Space-Force Academy, the explosives went off! They must have installed them after I went to class.¡± Ronin defended himself.


    ¡°We have multiple eyewitnesses claiming otherwise. I will let you in on a secret. I¡¯ve been in this line of work for a long time, and I know a guilty person when I see them. Do you dislike the government? Many do. It¡¯s understandable if you wanted to make a political statement. This is your chance, your moment; you can talk now. We¡¯re all listening.¡±


    The back-and-forth game continued. Ronin was told to say why he did it, the interrogator tried playing to his sense of justice, revenge, his empathy. He played the understanding and concerned friend, he even screamed at him once while showing images of the victims. Ronin stuck to his story.


    At some point, the man left the room, new people came in and he had to do it all over again. The new duo even brought up his parents:


    ¡°Ronin, what would your parents think? Xena and Holder must be rolling in their graves at this point. Was this the son they brought up? Every time you deny what you did, you besmirch their name even more. End this before it''s all ruined.¡±


    Ronin noticed himself tearing up. The combination of it all was just too much.


    I didn¡¯t do it¡­ I didn¡¯t do it¡­I didn¡¯t¡­ Did I? He just wanted it to end.


    Thankfully, they must have gotten tired, because the next thing he knew, he had a black bag over his head, was escorted out of the room and thrown inside a ship going who knows where.


    In an office that was not quite an office, not a speck of dust could be seen, any and all natural dust particle that should have been in the air, was absent, sucked into a state-of-the-art ventilation system. This could have been a clean-lab, yet it was not. Precisely stacked and organized discs packed with perfectly ordered data lined each of the two painfully calibrated shelves. It was all symmetrical of course. The ideal spot in the room was occupied by an expensive looking wooden desk. The natural light hit the desk in just the right way, so that 2 hours a day, the projections displayed on it, looked almost lifelike. Raverus Ravent could have gained 15 more minutes of optimal light conditions, but he liked how the light partially blinded his visitors.


    When students and coworkers entered his office, they inevitably left a mess. He didn''t blame them, they didn¡¯t know any better, but it did leave him with an untidy chaos he''d inevitably have to clean up again. He''d tried talking some sense into them years ago. It didn''t work of course. Now, they had to deal with light blinding them every time they opened the door. He had fewer visitors now, only about 20% less, but it''s not like he could install a gun turret in his office. He worked with what he had.


    As a cleaning bot swept across the room, he did another analysis on the video. He¡¯d watched it several times now. He had to be sure. If this kid had really solved the fusion engine repair exercise the way he claimed, this had to be reported to the higher ups.


    Brute forcing the problem by analyzing and remembering every single dimension of every single component, then comparing them to the blueprint was such an outrageous way to solve the problem, he didn¡¯t believe it at all at first. Now, having watched the footage, as well as having done several analyses on it, he honestly still couldn¡¯t believe it.


    It was simply too outrageous! Still¡­ He looked over the latest analysis:


    [Analysis complete.]


    [Lie detection scan of statement: ¡°I analyzed all the components and compared them to the blueprint values sir.¡± = TRUE]


    Raverus Ravent scratched the back of his head.


    He¡¯d have to remember the parameters of over 10000 components


    He¡¯d already checked if the kid had some sort of implant that would allow him to do something like this. None of the scans showed even a hint of it.


    ¡°When you eliminate every single reasonable explanation, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.¡± He mumbled.


    This kid had done it all by himself. What an incredible mind he¡¯d need to have to be able to do something like that. Compiling the data into an orderly report, he sent it to the board of education. It was up to them to deal with this now. ISFA may just have found themselves another monstrous genius.

 Chapter 11: Inmate 5348 I

    -¡± ...Corruption, scholars agree, blunts good government and corrodes the public faith. Yet, corruption is often a matter of political perspective. It can be functional. Stable, developed star systems view corruption as nothing but a burden, but developing systems depend on it. The Great Dyson Swarm of DH Tauri, for example, was only built as a result of the Halifax conglomerate first, illegally buying the system. Furthermore, it was only affordable due to the unethical employment contracts signed to construct it, and the illegal weapons trade done to fund it. It therefore stands to reason that the exponential expansion of humanity, like an axiomatic principle itself, has led our species to higher levels of corruption than ever before¡­¡± - Benedict Aufstar, Professor of economics.


    [Planet Exodon - Prison planet, Bright sector 54D]


    [Compound 37]


    [Year 3421 A.I. (After Interstellar exploration)]


    In an acid atmosphere, so depleted in breathable air, it would strangle a man in minutes, a colossal explosion erupted out, piercing the skies. As the eruption cast out guts from deep within the planet, the contents of its newly discarded waste interacted with the air, causing lightning to strike.


    The sun had long been rejected in these lands, the black ash permanently shielding it from entry. But where the sun had failed, lightning had risen to the occasion. As far as the eye could see, magma violently broke free, summoning innumerable bright trees of voltage, thundering into the ground, announcing their arrival.


    Amidst this forest of light, flew a ship. Having thick shielding, it was well protected from the furious heavens above. The high gravity did not take hold either, as the old and reliable Westein Drive continued giving its guests all the power they needed to reach their hosts.


    The ship, covered in black ash, had few distinguishing features besides its exhaust plume. But there was one thing that stood out. On its side, in big white letters it read: "Prison Transport".


    ¡°Why are we out here for just one convict?¡± A man fully clad in an exosuit questioned.


    The ship creaked and lights flickered.


    ¡°This is what¡¯s called a special mission Gabba. It¡¯s a sensitive job. Meaning, the higher ups trust us.¡± An older man answered seemingly at ease in the shaking ship.


    ¡°Still, I don¡¯t understand the point of this. The ship shakes more every time we come here. And now? All this just for a single kid? There''s room here for almost a hundred people!¡± Gabba replied.


    ¡°Relax, that''s just the nerves getting to you. The ship''s shaking just as much as the last time you said that. Which, if I remember correctly was 3 days ago?" The older guard chuckled.


    "We were hauling over 130 inmates that time! The ship is just not built for that!" The younger guard complained.


    "This old bird has many more trips in her before she needs retiring. And you asked why we have to go through all this trouble for one person? The term: ¡®special mission¡¯ is not just a word Gabba, it means something. Someone very important pulled a lot of strings to put this kid here, it would not do us well to question it.¡± Said the older guard, glancing over at the chained boy, resting inside the nearby cell.


    The shaking ship seemed to stir the boy, but he quickly relaxed again, as if still asleep.


    Ronin had pretended to be asleep for a while now and had learned much. Not only was he not in Ironglades anymore, he wasn¡¯t even on planet Concordia. His captors, probably revealing more than they should, had also spoken frequently about how unusual this transport was.


    The newest addition to his memory palace, this so-called term "Special mission" opened up a whole new perspective on his situation.


    The fact that a whole ship designed for mass transport has been set aside for a so-called sensitive transport job at the request from a higher up can only mean one thing, Ronin thought.


    Someone is trying to keep my transportation secret¡­ I don¡¯t have the type of connections that would warrant this level of care, which could only mean¡­ There''s foul play involved.


    The ship continued on, swerving in between Plinian eruptions as it made its way towards darkness. When the volcanos finally grew sparse, it descended, entering an inconspicuous cave entrance, before finally coming to a stop in front of a huge metallic wall. The lights, previously used to guide its way through the cave system, bounced off the metallic surface, revealing a name. In big yellow letters, it read: "Compound 37".


    ¡°They really should update this tech, you know Petro, the guy who left for the private sector? He¡¯s talked about much less invasive ways to do this.¡± Gabba said as he tapped on his exosuit, extracting the authorization key.


    ¡°They¡¯re never going to change it. It works and that''s all that matters. Our comfort was never a part of the equation.¡± Grunted the older guard as they both had their blood extracted by the key. After the bioscan was confirmed, the key was placed into the transmission array, the wall rumbled, opening up to reveal the hangar bay beyond.


    Ronin felt the ship landing, shortly after he also heard the sound of a hatch opening and the following echoes of heavy metallic steps.


    He tried to move; his body felt heavier than normal.


    Am I still this exhausted? No, I feel heavier because I AM heavier. Realization struck him. There was only one planet in the system with more gravity than Concordia.


    ¡°Fresh meat for the work? Why¡¯s there only one?¡± One of the new voices spoke.


    ¡°This one¡¯s a special case. Supposedly he blew up a skyscraper, killed over a hundred people.¡± The older guard said.


    ¡°Ooo.. A terrorist then? Quite the high profile inmate you¡¯ve brought¡± The new voice questioned.


    ¡°Not sure what he is, there was no trial, no nothing. Apparently he¡¯s part of the Ironglades Spaceforce Academy too.¡± The older guard replied.


    ¡°No trial?" For this place!? A political case then?¡± The new voice exclaimed in surprise.


    ¡°I have my orders, as have you. Won¡¯t do any of us any good to be asking questions like that.¡± The older guard said, making clear that this conversation was over.


    ¡°Whatever.¡± The man shot back before ordering his men to pick up the prisoner.


    So that¡¯s how it is¡­


    Ronin saw it clearly now. The planetary guard was corrupt. Whoever had ordered his assassination and placed a bounty on him, had also paid off the planetary guard. He¡¯d been a fool to trust in the authorities. He wasn¡¯t here because they thought he was guilty, not at all. He was here because of credits.


    As the men dragged him out of the spaceship and into the compound, the black bag over his head finally came off.


    ¡°Rise and shine sunshine!" The new voice called as a bucket of ice-cold water splashed his face.


    With his body spasming from cold shivers, he was dragged across the hall.


    He could see new ships coming in from other cave systems, likely carrying more prisoners. Men covered in tattoos lined the walls. Row after row they stood, chained as bots stripped and scanned them.


    ¡°49th rank, 1st row, ready!¡± Someone called as his captors dragged him along, placing him on the newly freed up spot.


    His chained hands were placed on a pressure plate sticking out of the wall. Holes began opening along the metallic surface and tentacle-like steel alloy appendages reached out to grab him. A bot then began cutting apart his academy uniform, before finally removing it. The bot continued removing fabric, not stopping until he lost everything, dignity included.


    A new bot then began scanning his body, stopping at his right eye. Piercing pain followed, as a beam of radiation blasted his precious Uninet-2000. He felt himself losing connection to it. Next, the bot moved onto his neck. Several black needles began protruding from it as they began injecting a thick black liquid into his artery.


    As the tentacles locking him to the wall, finally retracted, one of the prison guards monitoring him, slapped him on the butt and threw him his new clothes.


    ¡°Welcome to Exodon!¡± He laughed.


    It was that place after all¡­ He knew of this planet. Known as the place without sun. A hellscape the kingdom of Tar only sent its very worst. Prison Planet Exodon.


    Looking down at his new clothes, in big black letters, he saw the name they''d given him:


    Inmate 5348.


    Nagata Maximus was getting worried. He¡¯d tried to contact Ronin the moment he heard about the explosion. The news had tried to downplay what had happened, but Nagata wasn¡¯t known as Psyrat for nothing. He¡¯d quickly found out that the entire building burned down. Not only that, the explosion began at the 5th floor, where his nephew''s apartment was.


    Ronin¡¯s implant was untraceable. He also couldn¡¯t see whether or not it was active. He¡¯d gotten a short message from the kid some time after the incident, but now? Nothing. He was at a loss on what to do, he was a hacker, not omniscient. There was also the bounty placed on the kid the moment the explosion happened. That nasty thing brought just as much relief as it did worry. As long as the bounty was still up, it at least gave some hope he was alive, but the lack of contact was worrying¡­


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    I can¡¯t lose more family, not now, not after we¡¯ve finally begun to talk¡­


    Wait!


    There was still a place he hadn¡¯t looked.


    He had scanned the surface records of the planetary guard. It''s where he¡¯d expect to find the relevant information. But what if that wasn¡¯t the case. What if Ronin wasn¡¯t missing nor dead? What if he was involved with something classified, not only kept from the public, but also from the rank-and-file members of the planetary guard?


    Adjusting his bohemian style floral long coat, he got himself ready. He¡¯d probably burn his carefully built backdoor into the deepest layers of the planetary guards information network, but he¡¯d be damned if he didn¡¯t try everything when it came to finding his nephew.


    He¡¯d swore off these kinds of hacks after he and Ronin stole over 800 million credits worth of cryptocurrency from the CLM. This situation however¡­ There was simply no other way. It was time for Psyrat to make a comeback.


    He loaded up whatever protection measures he had and began the hack. He was in! Time was of the essence, the was no telling how long it would take before they discovered him snooping around.


    Rapidly scanning every single folder and file available, he finally found what he was looking for. It seemed someone had tried removing any digital trace of it, but they hadn¡¯t gotten this far, yet. The internal, last resort backup still had it. A file with the name Ronin Maximus attached!


    He quickly snatched it.


    Grabbing a piece of cheese, he now focused entirely on downloading anything and everything sensitive. Whatever they¡¯d done to his nephew, they¡¯d pay for it! Dearly.


    Ronin walked along cell after cell feeling incredibly uncomfortable. This place was really the home for the worst of the worst.


    ¡°Come here young meat, come here!¡± A man from one cell called, his face rabid.


    ¡°Look at that fresh butt!¡± Another shouted, whistling loudly.


    For every cell he passed, there seemed to be at least one of these twisted creatures clad in human skin shouting obscenities at him. He passed by another cell and, predictably another man began expounding on the value of his backside. With cold intensity, Ronin looked him dead in the eyes.


    I will remember you. I will remember every single one of you! He thought.


    He didn¡¯t know what the bot had injected him with, but the living black fluid that made up his new Inmate ID tattoo had also begun healing his body. He could feel it moving along his veins, making minor adjustments as it passed.


    The one thing that would give any of these prisoners a chance against him was healing a little bit more with every step he took. All he needed now was time, which it''d seem he¡¯d get more than enough of in this place. Besides, these convicts did not have laser guns, they¡¯d have to subdue him with their own hands, maybe a shiv if they came prepared. He could deal with that, in fact, if anything, he¡¯d welcome it.


    Glancing up, he spotted that the top floor only had prison guards, in lockstep, they patrolled around the complex, armed with laser rifles. From what he could see, this building had no kitchen, no common hall, no nothing. Instead, the big open bottom floor only had what looked like an enormous cage. His improved eyesight could see what looked like blood staining its metal bars.


    Is that some sort of fighting arena?


    The prison complex had over 30 floors of which, about 500 cells lined each and every one of them. With each cell holding 10 inmates, there were over 150 000 inmates locked up in here. Since this place was called compound 37, that meant there was a compound 1, 2, 3 and so on. In other words, there were probably millions of people locked up on this planet.


    ¡°Inmate 5348!¡± a guard called.


    Guess that''s me now.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a nice and cozy cell for you here kid.¡± The guard chuckled, his mouth opening into a large, wicked grin.


    This cell¡­ What in the world was this? There only seemed to be 6 people here.


    ¡°Stop diddling! Are you disobeying orders!?¡± The guard shouted, raising a baton and clicking a button causing red electric lights to flash across it.


    Ronin gritted his teeth in anger. He would remember this. All of this. How he was framed, hunted, the bounty. That guard, should he just¡­ No, one day, if he made it out:


    I will make them feel it. Every single one of them. They¡¯ll feel it all.


    Fuming, he entered the cell, spotted a free bunk and began placing down his things.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Someone called.


    ¡°Hey! Hey you! What¡¯s your problem? The man called again.


    Ronin turned around, facing the bionic man covered in metallic machinery, he asked: ¡°What do you mean problem?¡± A little puzzled at the strange behavior.


    ¡°The fresh fish doesn¡¯t even know!¡± Another inmate with a big black CLM tattoo covering his chest laughed.


    Ronin, a little annoyed at this point, was about to ask what their problem was, before:


    ¡°When you enter someone else''s home, don¡¯t you at least greet them first? What you just did, in this place, is seen as a very disrespectful act. I¡¯ll forgive you this one time since you don¡¯t know any better, but don¡¯t expect such charity to come free.¡± A deep voice spoke.


    From within the blanket on the bed to his right, huge muscular arms and legs emerged out, elongating into a long and lazy stretch. The huge man, over 2 meters tall, yawned, tore off the blanket, then looked at Ronin.


    ¡°You owe me a favor now. That''s how the rules work down here.¡± He spoke.


    ¡°Now, now¡± One of the older inmates interjected, reaching out for a handshake.


    ¡°I will teach you the ropes of this place, no favor needed. Void knows, it¡¯s hard enough just to live here when you already know the rules. No need in making things harder than they need to be. Deal?¡± He asked, his lips emerging into a friendly smile.


    ¡°Deal.¡± Ronin agreed, grasping his hand.


    ¡°Great! Name is Marvin, but in here people just call me Marv.¡± The older man spoke.


    That''s the name of the friend I made on my first day at Ironglades! Ronin realized, shuddering a little at the thought of what happened that day.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Ronin¡± He answered back, feeling better already. Even in this place, called the place without sun, there were good folk like this.


    ¡°...¡±


    As time passed Ronin quickly studied the ways of prison.


    ¡°Never be a complainer, don¡¯t whine and just do the time. You have to mind your own business. If you see someone do something that doesn''t jibe with you, might be drugs, a beatdown, could be anything. Heck, even if you like that stuff, stay away. Never talk about it, don¡¯t bring attention to it. Also, always stick to your words¡± Marv continued, still listing up more rules after what must have been 20 minutes by now.


    ¡°But I really am innocent, the guard is so corrupt they only locked me up because someone paid them off.¡± Ronin began defending himself.


    ¡°Hey man, we¡¯re all innocent!¡± Laughed the man with the big CLM tattoo.


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Marvin chuckled. ¡°Now listen, and this is important.¡± He said, palming his fist to emphasize the point.


    ¡°The most important rule in this compound is to always wear the cuffs. If you figure out a way to remove them, don¡¯t. Also, every morning, when the doors open, walk out, immediately. Don''t ever oversleep.¡±


    ¡°Why? is it because the guards will shoot me if I do?¡± Ronin questioned.


    The big muscular man whom he supposedly owed a favor now, chuckled. ¡°Fish, heh, you will find out tomorrow. Let¡¯s just say, getting shot would be a luxury if you take off those cuffs.¡±


    They chatted on, sharing stories of anything from prison life to funny personal stories long before their life behind bars.


    Ronin joined in as well, and before long, it was time for bed.


    Ronin had trouble sleeping that night. Partly due to the sleep he got on the ship, but also, because of how different this all was. This was his life now. A completely different world with all kinds of ridiculous rules. They might not make much sense but could be deadly if he didn¡¯t follow them.


    His mind spun, over and over, he thought about what he¡¯d done to end up here, of all places. He could blame the planetary guard for their corruption. He could blame the person who placed a bounty on him, then sent assassins. He could blame the alien artifact, but it was ultimately he who chose to fight the rooftop bandits. It was he who chose to enter district 101. As his mind kept spinning out into the night, eventually, sleep took him.


    Looking at the transfer order, Nagata didn¡¯t quite know what to do, not yet at least. To have been sent to Exodon without justification was certainly not a good fate, but the kid was alive. The file with the name Ronin Maximus, had been opened, but how to deal with this was another matter entirely. The name behind the transfer order was not someone Nagata could deal with.


    ¡°Wing Commander Julius¡­¡± He spoke the name slowly.


    Nevertheless, even if Nagata himself couldn¡¯t deal with a man of such status, it didn¡¯t mean that no one could. He¡¯d been snooping in on Ronin, including the academy he went to after he came over and began talking about the CLM and the alien artifact. Recently, he¡¯d been quite surprised to find his nephew''s name in a report to the board of education. If they truly valued him this much, perhaps they could deal with the Wing Commander¡­


    Making sure his message would be anonymous, he made a file, then filled it with every single negative thing he could find. If the guard had poached a student? Perfect! Into the file it went. Some evidence of incompetence during the terrorist attack on the school? Even better! Put it into the file! The illegal prosecution and transfer of Ronin, their new darling genius to Prison Planet Exodon? That went straight to the top of the file! Finally, to make sure no one could bury the story, he sent it to every single person of relevance connected to the academy, including the teachers and the board.


    Hopefully this will get the ball rolling. I can''t imagine them ignoring someone they value this much being sent to a prison planet. Especially now, everyone will know about it now.


    A loud booming alarm broke the cellmates up from sleep.


    ¡°Ronin, get up, get out of the cell now!¡± Shouted Marvin.


    Half groggy, he pushed himself out of bed while covering his ears, trying to dampen the loud alarm.


    Stumbling out of the cell behind the rest of his cellmates, he felt his cuffs moving upwards as his entire body began lifting itself from the ground. The thick black fluid circulating his body, also began moving as Ronin lost his footing and began floating above the railing, then further beyond, over the area with the arena cage.


    I must be floating over a hundred meters above ground by now. Seeing as it''s the cuffs that''s moving and not me, this whole complex must have been installed with magnets! Heck, with the amount of weight and volume these things are carrying, I bet they are supercharged! He thought in amazement as he looked down.


    Around him, he could see prisoners all over the compound floating in the air just like him.


    ¡°If not for the cuffs, that black fluid would not lift you up.¡± Said his big cellmate, flashing a big grin. Ronin secretly just called him Bulkster now, not his real name, but the big guy hadn¡¯t shared, and it was as good a name as any.


    ¡°Seen it before, the black gunk just got ripped straight out of his body, was blood everywhere man!¡± Bulkster described, eyes wide in excitement.


    Something that can heal the body and is attracted by magnetism¡­That black fluid I was injected with¡­ It has to be nanites! The small mechanical machines fit those properties to a tee!


    Still, he didn¡¯t see what the cuffs did to stop the nanites from being ripped out of his body. Perhaps they coagulated the nanites somehow, preventing them from being piercing the body? After all, a bigger, flatter thing didn''t pierce, it pushed.


    He looked over at the bionic man from his cell. His entire body seemed to be in agony.


    Noticing his gaze, the man answered as if knowing what he wanted to ask. ¡°Yeah, it''s just as bad as it looks¡­ Every piece of metal tears¡­ ugh!...Think they made this prison for people like us, just to make us hurt.¡±


    Ronin along with the 150 000 other prisoners began lowering down towards the ground floor.

 Chapter 12: Inmate 5348 II

    At the bottom of the prison, along with the arena, was a door, a great door spanning tens of meters. Ronin and Marvin, still descending towards the ground floor noticed that, as the door opened, the entire atmosphere in the compound changed. Shouts and roars began ringing through the crowd like an eruption as every inmate, after fully descending down, ran towards the door at full speed. As they reached the gap, the passage got clogged and instead of running, people now started fighting to get in!


    Having fully descended as well, Ronin looked up, a ceiling was beginning to enclose the lowermost floor, sealing off anything above. There was only one floor now¡­ And one door.


    What in the world?! Why are they sealing us in like this? He thought befo-


    ¡°Come with me!¡± Marvin shouted.


    Ronin, having no clue what was happening, chose to follow, for now. He was still, very much injured, but after reaching the 3¡¯rd stance of the Kalvrakian embrace, keeping up with the older Marvin was not a problem.


    They ran as far as they could, but the closer to the door they got, the more the sea of humanity around them closed in. Eventually it simply became too tight. They had to push, shove, squeeze and bump their way further in.


    The mass of humans became denser and denser. Ronin, still injured on his left shoulder, could only use his right arm and started having trouble getting further in. The pressure had gotten so high at this point, he was beginning to breathe hard, and his limbs started feeling heavy.


    ¡°Be careful not to get submerged!¡± Ronin could faintly hear Marvin shout.


    He was so focused on getting through the crowd and subsequently, the door, he began losing his sense of time. The mayhem of human struggle was so all encompassing, he barely noticed anything anymore. There was only the path, deeper into the chaos. It was also at this point, when he was the most distracted, that a shiv, out of nowhere, struck venomously for his abdomen. But regardless of whether or not Ronin himself noticed the sharp thing, his instincts did. Through some kind of alien reinforced subconscious subroutine, he deflected the blade away. Wait, did he just ''deflect'' that shiv into an unsuspecting neighbor? There was no time to think, he pushed further ahead.


    At some point, the pressure from so many people, all around him, pushing inwards, trying to squeeze through the gap, eased up. Still focused on pushing forward, Ronin noticed that there were less people around him now. He no longer saw the door in front of him either. Was he finally through?


    ¡°This way!¡± He heard Marvin shout.


    Heading towards the voice, he arrived in front of a multitude of empty aisles. Inmates seemed to be running along them picking something up every now and again.


    There!


    He finally saw his fellow cellmate. While grinning wildly, Marvin was holding two pieces of gear, one in each hand.


    ¡°Got one for you too! Breathing masks!¡± He laughed, handing one over to Ronin.


    As Marvin quickly began putting on the mask, Ronin followed suit and they began heading further down the aisles.


    Shortly after setting out, they arrived before yet another door, but their fellow inmates did not stand in front of it this time.


    All along its side walls people squeezed in, as if seeking shelter.


    Further back, people stood close to the aisles, some were even laying down.


    ¡°What are they doing?¡± he asked Marvin.


    ¡°You will see soon. Behind that door is the equipment we¡¯re going to be using today. Essentially, we¡¯re all miners in this prison, that''s our job, digging. If you dig enough, you get food. If you don¡¯t, better luck next time.¡±


    "..."


    As more and more inmates arrived, he quickly became surrounded again. He couldn''t see Marvin anymore. Had he snuck away amidst the incoming people? Why would he do that? People began laying down. Ronin did so as well. He didn¡¯t see the point, but this was his first day here and if literally everyone around him laid down, he¡¯d be a fool not to do the same.


    A yellow light began slowly spinning from a lightbulb, bolted into the roof in front of the door.


    The seconds passed and an ominous energy of fear seemed to take hold of the room as some prisoners began shaking.


    ¡°Again, again I have to do this? Why did they put me here?.. Just how could they..¡± He could hear a nearby inmate mutter.


    A robotic voice began sounding out from speakers along the walls:


    [Initiating gate opening. Pressure is estimated as four times nominal. Brace for impact.]


    The message was followed by a booming alarm, and as the door began lifting, a storm of hot blazing wind followed.


    Inmates were blasted back, some fighting to breathe, some with bleeding red eyes, scorched out by the acid gas flooding the compound. Ronin himself noticed his eardrums almost bursting from the rapid increase in air pressure. Then it happened. He began struggling to breathe, and what he did breathe, burned. It felt like his lungs were on fire.


    This can¡¯t be what''s supposed to happen, I have a mask! His eyes began to sting.


    Wait, what if the mask is defective!? Am I going to die? Beset by a torrent of coughs, he could barely see now with how much water there was in his eyes.


    Making a snap judgement while he still had some degree of vision, he reached out for the inmate he¡¯d heard speak just a few seconds ago.


    He needed another mask!


    ¡°Let go you maniac! Stop it!¡± The man shouted in fear, grabbing onto his own mask, protecting it.


    What followed were a torrent of kicks, one striking Ronin''s left thigh, flaring up the injury. Ronin''s left arm was unusable, it was also cuffed to his right, making the mask theft even harder. He decided to change his approach. He needed more leverage and began crawling over the inmate, jostling for a better position.


    ¡°You have your own mask! Please. Who set you up to this? I¡¯ll double whatever they''re paying you, Just... Get¡­ Off!¡± The prisoner shouted as, with both feet, he kicked Ronin away.


    But it was too late. As inmate 5348 tumbled across the ground, in his hand, was a new breathing apparatus. Hopefully one that worked this time.


    I¡¯m sorry, whoever you are¡­ I will remember this. Ronin thought as he closed his eyes, tore off the defective thing he''d been given by Marvin, then put on the newly gained plunder.


    When he¡¯d done something like this before, it had either been accidental, or they had it coming. This, however, was different. Regardless of who you were or how you ended up here, we had no grievance, and you didn¡¯t deserve this, not to me at least. He made a solemn vow. The number on the inmates'' uniform was 1437. From now on, he''d be indebted to that number.


    As his breath returned, the burning feeling in his lungs faded and his sight became clearer. With both the nanomachines and his alien regeneration working in tandem, the damage to his face, caused from the few seconds of exposure to the atmosphere, healed up quickly. The same could not be said for the injuries he¡¯d entered Exodon with.


    The hot, sour atmosphere buried itself into his burn wounds, further corroding them. Even his perfectly healthy skin burned and began corroding after the gate opened. He, along with every other prisoner here was on a timer, even with a functioning mask.


    I sort of understand why we all get injected with healing nanomachines now. In this type of environment, the accumulating damage to our bodies would make it impossible to work. Every day we¡¯ll need the nanites to heal us from the corrosion of the air. If we don¡¯t heal fast enough, we fall behind, if we fall behind, we¡¯ll have to work longer for food, longer hours will cause even more corrosion damage, which in turn will take even longer to heal.


    It was a negative spiral which only got worse and worse until you eventually succumbed. Ronin knew why Exodon was known as the place without sun. Today he learned the other half, why it was called a hellscape.


    He walked past the door and into the expansive cave system. Around him there were all kinds of instruments, from massive smelting furnaces reaching tens of meters up, to processing machines, minecarts and handheld excavating machines. He rolled up his sleeves as he was gestured towards the handheld tools. The faster he got this over with, the more he¡¯d get to heal afterwards.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Simons looked at the contract again, "Maximus Solutions".


    He¡¯d gone over the contract over 20 times since he first signed it. After looking into his new employer''s factory, he¡¯d been so amazed he couldn''t stop shaking. The facility was unbelievable. It had state of the art equipment of the highest caliber. From a highly precise 3D printer to a heavily modded design lab. It was almost as if the factory was tailor made for new aspiring designers.


    He, Simons, out of all people, before even finishing his first year, would be working there! His father was a rather famous man. Highly respected in the ship construction circuit, he had a lot of strings he could pull, but to get his son a job like this, that was way out of his league.


    As expected of someone like Ronin, Simons thought. He had noticed it during the exercise. The others, probably not fully understanding what Ronin had done, had dismissed the employment contract. Simons, however, was right there when it happened. He understood the implications.


    Of course, some large mysterious company would notice his talent and offer him an opportunity. Simons, unlike everyone else saw the chance he''d been given for what it was and signed the contract right away. There was still that strange clause though¡­


    "The employee is required to possess or develop a strong ability to communicate."


    After extensive talks with his father and even a thorough talk with their family lawyer, it became clear why the clause was added.


    The clause had one purpose and one purpose alone. To allow the company to fire Simons whenever they want. If the company did well and began rising up in the world, they¡¯d need more professional manpower, skilled employees, and Simons would have to go. He only got the job so that Ronin could have a training partner and a playmate. Once he lost his value, he¡¯d be fired cleanly, no severance package, no nothing, all because of that clause.


    Well, not on Simons¡¯ watch. He¡¯d do whatever it took to grab onto Ronin''s leg and hold on for dear life. Strong communication abilities? He¡¯d become the damnedest best communicator on the planet. He was reminded of his lisp.


    If liposuction is what it takes, then that''s what I¡¯ll do, He thought, dialing up the family physician to schedule an appointment


    ¡°Work you little shits, why are you slowing down!?¡± Shouted a guard clad in a large, 3 meters tall power suit. A war suit. This was not something you¡¯d find on the open market, and if you did, you¡¯d get prosecuted. Loaded with shoulder mounted missile launchers, all kinds of sensory equipment and tons of laser cannons. This was an armament built for pure unadulterated conflict.


    Beside the man hung a teflon covered poster, depicting a happy miner, digging to his heart''s content with a gleeful face. Below the image, the poster read:


    "Dig for freedom, dig for Tar, dig for food, dig for salvation! Every fellow man and woman from Tar appreciates you and your efforts. When Exodon becomes habitable, we¡¯ll always remember what you did for us. Future hero, redemption awaits!"


    Ronin scoffed at the ridiculous thing. The only thing true about it was the digging for the food part. And dig he did.


    Wielding what looked like a large jack hammer, he moved on to another location, pressed the machine into the ground, pushed a red button and the machine lasered a thin deep hole. He twisted the machines handle and compressed gas entered the thin opening. The gas expanded, causing the rock to fracture. Finally, he picked up the loose pieces of mafic rock, then filled up the minecart.


    He was used to the mind-numbing routine by now. He always ended up underground somehow, maybe it was destiny trying to tell him something?


    Anyways, it was his tenth cart today. It would be his last.


    Transporting the cart back to the smelting furnace, he offloaded the rocks onto a conveyor belt before walking up to another guard in a war suit.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ 10 carts in about 5 hours. That¡¯s slightly above the average, but considering this is your first day, you might just make it, inmate 5348.¡± The guard spoke in amusement as he handed over a condensed nutrient pack. ¡°If you walk straight in and onto your left there will be an airlock which will now open for you.¡±


    Ronin quickly found the airlock, removing the mask and inhaling deeply in relief after the chamber was pressurized to Earth nominal values.


    His whole body itched, and the injuries were even worse, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t take long to get back into shape. An Improved regeneration and healing nanobots both? He just might be invincible now!


    Ronin exited and began wolfing down the nutrient pack as he started walking back up to his cell. There was still no sight of Marvin. Good. He didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d do if he showed up, but sooner or later, there would be a reckoning.


    As he entered his cell, he spotted Bulkster and the guy with the CLM tattoo. They seemed to be resting.


    More space for me. Ronin thought as he began lowering his legs.


    It was time.


    With iron strength, he tore off the cuffs, calmed his breathing and began doing the stances.


    He felt the familiar feeling of explosive peril storming through his body, but he could do it now, he had healed enough.


    Moving on to the third stance, the strain built up, but he continued. He reached 40% completion, then 50%, his previous record. He pushed further into 60%, 85% then 99%. With a mountain of willpower, he locked it in!


    He¡¯d reached the 4th stance! Strength once again burst out from within the artifact and his entire being improved. But more importantly, the damage from his fall from his 5th story apartment and the two laser burns, began restoring itself so fast he could literally see it healing with the naked eye!


    Ronin was back! The Potentia Panorama might be dangerous, but its possibilities were endless.


    Half a stance in one try, that¡¯s got to be a record. This planet might actually be helping me improve faster! The next day would be a cakewalk at this rate, and if he continued to improve... He might be able to escape... A dangerous thought, but if nobody helped him get out of here, he''d rather die than give up on his dream.


    Time passed as Ronin rested. Finally, Marvin arrived. There were no signs of nervousness or anything that could be interpreted as guilt.


    Was the defective mask he gave me truly a mistake? Ronin wondered.


    He wouldn¡¯t act yet, he would wait, he had to be sure¡­


    "..."


    When the floor was finally fully opened, a second enclosure was revealed. The arena had been shielded from the corrosive air from outside as well, and it became clear why when the cover began retracting.


    "This is going to be good!" Bulkster chuckled. "Saw 3 people down there myself. Couldn¡¯t get to the door in time, ran into the cage like rats."


    Down inside the arena was 7 people, trepidation evident in their movements. Speakers, mounted onto the walls of the complex began announcing:


    [We¡¯ve got ourselves a grand battle today fellow hardworking men of Tar! 7 men has chosen life through combat, but only one can claim the right! Let''s get these patriots something worthy of their bravery!]


    Magnetic fields lowered metal batons and swords into the arena, but before they could reach the waiting men, one of the larger inmates in the arena attacked.


    As the larger man ran forward and began to throw a punch, he suddenly jerked to a stop. A harrowing deep scream rang out as a black and red mist burst out from his back. He stood there for a moment, shaking before dropping down into a puddle of blood.


    ¡°Got a little antsy that one! Did you see Ronin? Did you see? The black gunk just burst out!¡± Bulkster once again laughed, seeming oddly happy with what was happening.


    Ronin nodded.


    So that''s what happens when they use magnetism to remove the nanites. If that happened to me, would I survive?


    The now 6 contenders picked up their weapons and a new dark, deep, bass filled voice filled the prison:


    [Combatants prepare¡­]


    An air of quiet anticipation spread through the complex.


    [Ready, steady¡­ Combatants, Fight!]


    The whole prison erupted into fervor as the men clashed!


    Ronin spotted 4 inmates'' team up, forcing the other two to team up as well. One of the two, he noticed, fought with surprising grace. Only dodging by a hair''s breadth and fighting conservatively. He seemed to be losing ground, but it also seemed to be calculated somehow, as if he was doing it on purpose.


    The other of the two fell. It would have been a 4 vs. 1 fight at this point, but one of the men in the larger team suddenly swung his sword, striking his teammate in the neck, decapitating him.


    [Fatality!] The speakers resounded as the crowd erupted into cheers and the three men left in the team turned on each other.


    The battle became chaotic as blades and batons now struck for anyone and anything in the way. Batons broke bones, swords cut deep and before long there were only two men left in the arena.


    On the left was the man, previously in the two-man team. On the right, was the backstabber. Ronin could see that the skilled fighter who¡¯d been previously holding back, was hurt. He didn¡¯t seem to be faking ineptitude anymore. He was on the back foot, struggling to defend himself.


    There was a brief pause in the battle as the two combatants disengaged. Then, as the injured man faltered, with a powerful roar, the other man, the team killer, threw away all hesitation and rushed forward with his sword held high. It was time for the coup de grace.


    However, right as he was upon the injured man, with surprising quickness the injured man dropped down, using the team killers'' own momentum, as well as his own bodyweight to plunge the sword straight through the charging man''s heart. The team killer flew over the crouched competitor, crashing down hard.


    [Winner¡­. Inmate 20001!] The speakers boomed out as cheers and shouts rang through the crowd. Ronin could even see some prison guards cheering, caught up in the atmosphere.


    ¡°Now that''s what I''m talking about! This place ain¡¯t so bad after all ain¡¯t it, Fish!?¡± Bulkster roared while looking at Ronin with genuine happiness.


    Ronin inwardly shook his head. This guy was a lost cause. Getting this happy over such violence was not a sign of a healthy mind.


    ¡°...¡±


    As the day went on, Ronin kept to himself, keeping an eye on Marvin. He didn¡¯t notice anything off, but from now on, he¡¯d never take another mask offered by the old guy ever again. Finally, when the lights in the prison turned off, he went to bed.

 Chapter 13: Inmate 5348 III

    In the dark of night, a silhouette slowly started sliding out of his bunk. Silently he moved on to another bed. After a few pokes to the shoulder the other figure awoke, now they were two.


    ¡°We¡¯re really doing this? We¡¯ll get thrown into the arena.¡± The newest addition to their team of two said.


    ¡°Not now, we¡¯ve gone through this. With a bounty of 1 million credits, we¡¯ll have enough to get out of here both.¡± The first to awake whispered back.


    ¡°Is it really true though? A bounty that high sounds like it''s out of a dream!¡±


    ¡°Shhh, got the intel straight from Argus¡¯s men myself. It¡¯s good.¡±


    The two men, both wielding a makeshift knife, made their way over to a sleeping figure. They looked at each other, nodded, then with decisive viciousness, raised their knives, and stabbed down.


    Ronin may have gone to bed, he may have looked to any normal discerning gaze, to be a perfectly normal 18-year-old, sleeping soundly without a care in the world. He was not. Having made up his mind on being careful of Marvin, he''d forgone sleep.


    He¡¯d naturally heard the silent whispers of his fellow cellmates as they approached, aiming for his life. He thought back on everything that had happened today and it became clear:


    So, it''s come to this¡­ News of my bounty has reached so far that even the prisons of Exodon now knows of it. I really hoped it wasn''t true, but it also seems like Marvin has been plotting against me since the very beginning.


    As the two shivs were raised, then began descending, he was ready, erupting from within the bedsheets.


    With both hands free from the cuffs, he grasped both wrists, immobilizing the knives. Swiftly, and with great strength, he squeezed tight, twisting his hands until a sharp SNAP! signaled the breaking of bones.


    Before his assailants, now with wrists bent and misshapen, could begin to scream, he silenced them, striking both their necks with carefully calculated strength. Their pain would not alarm the guards tonight.


    Snapping the neck of one of his attackers, he turned to Marvin, his so-called mentor in this hellscape:


    ¡°Now now Marvin. I really hoped you¡¯d be a genuine man. That fake persona of yours was actually quite pleasant. I liked being around that version of you. After the "incident" with the mask though¡­¡± Ronin heaved a sigh. ¡°Perhaps you had a hand in the attack on me when I was moving through that great door as well.¡±


    He waited for Marvin to catch his breath, then gently placed his hand on his shoulder. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter now anyways¡­ Now tell me more about this man named Argus. I¡¯ve heard quite a lot about this man lately, I believe it involved something like a bounty?¡±


    Marvin looked at him with fearful eyes. It seemed he¡¯d been under a grave misconception all along. This kid was not some innocent youngster. That level of strength, the ruthlessness by which he broke the neck of his friend Pracksus¡­


    ¡°M-Monster¡­¡± He managed to croak out.


    Just what had he gotten himself involved with?!


    The sacred room was not only draped in beautiful paintings of historical ships. There were also a number of shelves, ordained with several carefully crafted, functioning models of spaceships. From fighters, shuttles and corvettes to battlecruisers and motherships, the only thing these ships had in common, was that they were all designed by citizens of Concordia. In the middle of the room, designed to look like the bridge of a star destroyer, sat a cohort of statesmen, both their bearing and choice of clothes signifying great gravitas and importance.


    ¡°Concerning the current annual budget, we should prioritize all students. This habit of spending more and more funds on a few selected candidates may increase our reputation when one of them succeeds, but it has severely weakened the support staff which, if I may add, Concordia is entirely dependent upon.¡± Continued Bladia Ungtari, the Minister of higher education.


    ¡°If only a single of our candidates makes it to a higher star system. That single candidate can do more for Concordia''s strategic interests than thousands of support staff. Not to mention the generous return we¡¯ll receive on our investments.¡± Petrov Bjerksson, Head of ISFA ship design, answered back.


    Perking up at the mention of more investments, Antova Li, head of the pilot program, broke in: ¡°And on that note, we should increase our funding into Cadet Haraken''s training immediately! He''s the best pilot we''ve had in 70 years and with the current state of our flight simulation equipment, we''re practically wasting away his talent!¡±


    ¡°Before we go any further, we''ll have to address the report sent to us on this new potential genius. Raverus Ravent, seeing as you¡¯re the one who wrote the report. Why don¡¯t you bring us up to speed?¡± Principal Armstrong interrupted.


    Raverus was not supposed to be here of course, but recently, an anonymous tip had been sent to nearly every member of staff working in the ISFA. With the revelation of some very unsavory details concerning the planetary guard, and the subject of his own report, he¡¯d been forced to attend. Sighing, he accessed his intercom and with a swipe, he called the report up to project over the center of the table before them. A few seconds passed while the board members studied the hologram on the table as it slowly spun around, depicting Ronin as well as his associated information.


    ¡°The student, Mr. Maximus is a first year and the majority of my report concerns the very first practical exercise he did. During a KGC-fusion reactor repair session, his team did not know that you''re supposed to run diagnostics checks first, before disassembling the engine." Raverus paused as people started chuckling.


    "Yes, I know, typical first year mistake. What makes this different, is what happened afterwards." Raising his finger into the air, Raverus emphasized the magnitude of his following words. "They repaired it. Perfectly at that."


    "How!?" Exclaimed Petrov the head of ISFA ship design, confusion apparent on his face.


    Raverus Ravent gestured towards the hologram: "Mr. Maximus here, after reading the blueprint, compared it to every single parameter obtained from the multiscanner. Let me remind you, this specific engine has a total of 11501 different components."


    "How much of the multiscanner data can you actually compare to the blueprint though?" Petrov asked, seeking clarification.


    Raverus raised his eyebrows, then slowly spoke: "13 "


    "Over 10 thousand components, 13 variables for each...It would be like finding a needle in a haystack, no, it would be even harder than that! But there are all kinds of tools for this, surely-" Petrov began.


    "I¡¯ve already accounted for that; he didn¡¯t use any tools. If you¡¯d bothered to read the report you¡¯d know." Raverus interrupted.


    A hint of a shock spread through the room before it was quickly suppressed.


    Principle Armstrong had been waiting for this. "Too bad he''s been kidnapped." He broke in.


    ¡°What? How could this happen!?¡± Minister Bladia erupted.


    ¡°This, in part, is why Mr. Ravent here, was called in. We had to be sure this kid is actually a genius, like the report states. You see, not long ago, we received an anonymous tip concerning the Planetary Guard. The tip details how they deliberately framed this potential genius after receiving bribes from a known crime lord. Not long ago, according to the report, the Guard saw fit to ship this student of ours away. All the way over to Prison Planet Exodon.¡± Armstrong followed up. ¡°Mr. Ravent, if you please.¡±


    ¡°Thank you... I know of the man who allegedly signed off on this. This Wing Commander Julius. Working in landbound transport for many years has led to quite a few interactions between us. I can tell you that, if this tip is credible, Julius would be one of the first names I would suspect. There have been rumors surrounding him and on how dirty he is since the very first day I met him.¡±


    Minister Bladia Ungtari''s face began to change as realization dawned on her. ¡°And you¡¯ve brought this up to me because I can tell the mayor¡­¡±


    The principal gave her a steady gaze. ¡°Every genius is a strategic asset to Tar, Minister, I¡¯m only bringing this up because I¡¯m concerned about our national interests. We have here, a candidate which could significantly strengthen the kingdo-¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡± She cut him off. ¡°I will call him.¡±


    Principle Armstrong''s head bowed slightly in appreciation. "Thank you.¡±


    The ringing alarm boomed once again through the complex, announcing the beginning of a new day.


    Ronin was not awoken by the alarm this time, in fact, he hadn¡¯t slept at all since the incident just a few hours ago. After an enhanced interrogation of Marvin, the reason for his apartment blowing up and his imprisonment had finally been revealed.


    The 5 men he killed in district 101 had a boss. Argus was the face of their organization, but Marvin speculated there was someone else in charge. Called but a myth and a legend due to his elusiveness, the man targeting Ronin was a ghost. All Marvin knew of him was a name and a title. "Specter, The ghost butcher".


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    If I ever get out... Heck, I won''t even bother with placing a bounty on him. I''ll visit him myself, Ronin inwardly grumbled.


    If trying and failing to sleep in a small, enclosed room with two dead bodies was not bad enough. He had to put on the prisoner''s cuffs again, which was not easy, considering there was a real risk of breaking them in the process.


    ¡°Those are some big black bags under your eyes, fish!¡± Bulkster, still tired, spoke over the alarm. The big man, thick as he was, had still not realized what happened tonight, seemingly sleeping through the whole thing.


    The same could not be said about the others. The man with the CLM tattoo looked over Ronin nervously as they walked out of the cell. ¡°You''re not who I thought you were¡­ There¡¯s no bad blood between us, right?¡± He voiced, pointing towards the cell.


    As the cuffs began lifting him above the railing, Ronin made his stance clear. In as loud a voice as he could manage, he spoke for the entire complex to hear: ¡°Marvin and his friend made their move against me! If you mean well, I shall treat you well! If you mean ill, I will not hesitate! Just as with Marvin, anyone who moves against me, I will strike down, no exceptions!¡±


    Ronin knew he couldn¡¯t hide what had happened in that cell. Someone would have to take the blame.


    Better that I take the blame, than an innocent. I did it, time to own up.


    At this point, even Bulkster had caught on. ¡°Holy void of beginning fis-, no, Ronin! You¡¯re a savage! You should have told me.¡± Bulkster wasn¡¯t fearful though, it looked more like he was happy?


    Ignoring the loud man, Ronin was happy to realize how the nanites injected into his body acted normally. It had been one of his fears the moment he tore off the cuffs and began training yesterday. Neither the act of tearing them off, then putting them on again, nor the death of his two cellmates had led to nanite ejection. There would be consequences though.


    As he began lowering towards the ground, the magnetic fields of the complex shifted, aiming him directly into the arena.


    It is as I thought, since the arena and death by ejection are the only two direct forms of punishment enforced here, it had to be one of the two.


    He knew this was a possibility, but this could also be a good thing. He had a big bounty, and inmates would be aiming for him left and right. If he was ruthless enough in the arena. His brutality should scare off anyone hoping for an easy payday, saving him a lot of trouble later on.


    As the metal cage began enclosing the arena, protecting it from the acidic air, several people began running towards it.


    Wait, that''s a lot more people than yesterday! Most of them were looking at him with greed in their eyes.


    ¡°I told you that butt was mine. Go back if you don¡¯t want to die!¡± One of the men shouted.


    ¡°I¡¯m here for the bounty you pervert!¡± Another outraged voice rang back.


    As they entered the arena, they began closing in on Ronin. ¡°We all know the show won¡¯t start before the enclosure is lifted. That''s 10 hours. There is no use in acting tough. The moment you entered here, your fate was already sealed.¡± He spoke as the men approached.


    ¡°You, what!?¡± A voice spoke back as a flurry of insults and displays of bravado began pouring out from the mob.


    Left with 10 hours and little to do, Ronin ignored the noise and accessed his mind palace. There was nothing those men could do to him now anyways. He¡¯d seen what happened to the guy who started attacking early yesterday. Inside his mind palace, he¡¯d began walking along the corridors of the mental goliath class spaceship, passing from gate to gate. Lately, he''d been attempting to sense what was behind the gates, without opening them. The last gate he''d opened had injured him and that was the smallest gate of them all. Now, after having reached the 4th stance and somewhat healed his mindscape, he felt ready for another. It would be nice to actually know what information he''d be getting before being injured again. He wanted to make an informed choice this time.


    Among all the gates, or more accurately, the sealed off wells of information he''d studied, two stood out. As he touched the smaller of the two gates, he felt a vague impression of it containing something related to the mind, but it felt very esoteric and foreign. The larger one, also feeling like it contained something related to the mind, had a different quality. It gave off an impression of mental strength, sharpness and flexibility.


    The question was, which should he choose? What he truly needed was a way to resist the mental influence of the alien artifact and the larger gate felt more relevant, but could he handle the backlash from opening it? The smaller one, on the other hand, contained less risk, but it was harder to discern whether or not it would actually be useful.


    Considering my situation, there is not much hope for me here anyways. I''m essentially locked up in a prison, famous for not letting anyone out. In addition, there''s over 150,000 inmates here, lusting after my bounty¡­ Or my ass.


    That made the calculus much easier, it was decided, he¡¯d pick the larger of the two gates, but not now. He was tired and further damaging his mind palace, right before the battle, was not an option. He focused on resting, mentally preparing himself while sharpening his mind.


    ¡°...¡±


    As time passed, Ronin entered a semi-conscious state. Hearing an increase in the rustling movements around him, he checked the time. Soon the protection surrounding the arena would be lifted. He glanced over the future battlefield.


    50 people entered the arena this time. Where is all that energy I saw from before? Ronin inwardly shook his head.


    Only one person would leave this place. How could they all so confidently rush in here with the promise of credits? A bounty? What were the odds they¡¯d survive? It finally seemed to have dawned on the men, just how foolish they¡¯d been, as they now sat there. Isolated. Weary.


    The metal cover, protecting the arena began lifting and the speakers mounted onto the walls began announcing:


    [We¡¯ve got ourselves a very special battle today fellow heroes! A grand total of 51 men has chosen life through combat, but only one can claim the right! Among these 51, there is also a traitor who chose to take the life of two fellow cellmates in the black of night! He will not be allowed an armament, but you other patriots are, of course, worthy! Let''s get you something for the coming struggle!]


    As the weapons started descending, Ronin''s complexion turned rueful. They really don¡¯t want to make this easy on me.


    The inmates began picking up their weapons and Ronin could see teams forming. Most teams seemed to be planning to target other lone men, but not him. They barely even spared him a glance now that the situation had gotten serious.


    They must see me as weak... Still, should I stay in the shadows, just because I can? No. Every single person in this prison is currently watching this. There would be no better time to show them how costly a bounty I truly am.


    The different, dark, deep, bass filled voice, once again filled the prison:


    [Combatants prepare¡­]


    The prison once again turned silent. The anticipation building.


    [Ready, steady¡­ Combatants Fight!]


    Pandemonium was unleashed, and Ronin ran straight into it.


    Sliding feet first into the mayhem, he just avoided a sword strike passing above his head. While still sliding, he rolled out of the way of yet another sword, this one aiming to stab him from above.


    Quickly bolting to his feet, he saw his attacker. The sharp-nosed devious looking fellow, swung again. Ronin positioned his feet, the right foot in front of the left, then leaned right, letting the attack pass him by.


    Carefully maintaining his balance, while still leaning, he dashed in, closing the distance. He then punched the man, straight in the solar plexus. Now after suffering from a paralyzed diaphragm, Ronin was free to grab the harmless inmate.


    They refused me the use of a weapon but said nothing about another person, he thought as he lifted the man, positioning him as a shield.


    The heavier gravity on Exodon, being 1.6 times that of Earth, made movement straining and slow. It therefore came as quite the surprise to the crowd, when a spinkly kid, just over 1.7 meters, began to move like that gravity didn¡¯t affect him. When he also lifted another inmate, then proceeded to use him like a shield, however, that surprise changed over to shocked confusion.


    Ronin held the man above him, blocking two men attacking him with batons. Spotting a brief opening, he threw his new sharp-nosed shield at them, knocking them over. Proceeding to knock them out, he, with both hands, grabbed the man by the ankle and picked him up again.


    He could do more with this man than just use him as a shield. While dragging the man behind him, he proceeded to jog up to another pair, locked in combat. With his feet wide apart, he strained his muscles, then, in a wide arc, swung the whole man above him. The now, man-sword, struck one of the combatants so hard, his neck snapped as his entire body got smashed into the ground.


    Following up, Ronin circled, spinning the man-sword in a counter-clockwise direction, striking the other combatant heavily in the chest. A loud CRACK, sounded out, signaling the breaking of bones. The combatant flew across the arena, landing heavily on the ground before sliding to a stop.


    [Fatality!] The speakers resounded, causing the crowd to erupt in fervor.


    Ronin''s remaining cellmates with mouths agape, just stood there in silence, too shocked to even utter a word. Even Bulkster was tongue tied at this point.


    As Ronin continued swinging the man-sword around in the arena, even the crowd began displaying mixed signals. Only half of them were cheering now, the rest were just silent. What was happening down there was just too abnormal¡­


    [Fatality!] The speakers rang out again. But the atmosphere of the whole prison had changed.


    As Ronin continued charging into fight after fight, ending them quickly, the combatants stopped fighting each other. Now, they just looked at Ronin. He was faster, swung harder, had more reach and didn¡¯t get exhausted. An unspoken agreement seemed to manifest from the presence of this one man. This variable¡­ He couldn''t be allowed to remain on the field. They had to work together.


    As more and more people began surrounding him, Ronin picked up speed. The last thing he wanted was to get encircled. At that point, it wouldn''t matter how skilled he was, he¡¯d have blind spots regardless.


    The man-sword he¡¯d been using had turned into a big loaf of blood and meat. Not much remained of the sharp-nosed inmate who''d first attacked him. Ronin quickly advanced, mindful of keeping his balance as he swung the meat stick in front of him, clearing the way. Argh! A sword strike reached him, digging into his waist. Momentarily distracted, a blow from a baton crashed hard into his shoulder.


    He needed distance. Reaffirming his grip onto his meat stick''s ankle, he swung with all he had. Spinning around, he completed a full circle, knocking down two combatants before finishing with an overhead strike, pulverizing the head of the bastard who¡¯d struck him with a sword.


    The crowd was silent now. This was not how arena fights were supposed to go. In the arena, anyone could die. It was a chaotic field of temporary alliances, betrayals and if you were deemed as one of the weaponless, you died quick. Never had an inmate been refused a weapon and lived. Never had an inmate fought not one, but everyone, at the same time. And that was before even getting into the grotesque way it was being done.


    Ronin kept accumulating injuries, but the combatants kept dropping. He may have slowed down a little, but the other combatants seemed to have slowed down even more.


    [Fatality!] The speakers rang again, but no one cheered.


    Having swung around the man for what must have been the 100th time, the new man-sword broke. Ronin was now only holding onto a leg. Picking up a new inmate by the ankle he set out to bring down the remaining combatants.


    Out of the 51 inmates at the start of the battle, only 5 remained. They weren''t charging him anymore. They were running away. As he was about to corner another man, a blackish red mist escaped from the man''s back.


    Ronin looked around. Black-red mist began erupting from the other remaining combatants as well. Every single one of them let out screams of agony.


    Nanite ejection. Guess the prison guards aren¡¯t very fond of people fleeing. He sighed. Exhausted. In more ways than one.


    [Winner¡­ Inmate 5348!]

 Chapter 14: Battle soul

    ¡°Come on, just tell us! Where did you get the gear to become so strong!?¡± Derek Ainstar, the bionic man asked eagerly. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t tell me you''ve actually found someone willingly open to perform genetic editing?¡±


    ¡°I can neither confirm, nor deny. Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m all natural for now.¡± Ronin replied.


    It seemed neither his previous display, nor the fact that he was both injured and exhausted would keep the excited questions at bay today.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be in your debt for years, if you do choose to tell him though. You have no idea how much of a gear freak Derek is.¡± Olsen Scar, The man with the CLM tattoo said.


    Ronin began shaking his head ¡°No No No I-¡±


    ¡°We should arm wrestle!¡± Bulkster interrupted, then began looking around for materials to create a makeshift table.


    ¡°Come on guys, I¡¯ve just fought 50 people. Tomorrow, ok? We¡¯ll do this tomorrow.¡± Ronin raised his hands, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.


    It was only after the arena fight that he¡¯d begun talking properly with his cellmates.


    Before, they¡¯d been distant, never speaking what they truly thought. After showing them how dangerous he could be, however, he only had to explain himself with regards to what happened to Marvin before they let down their guard. He¡¯d expected them to be wearier, not this¡­


    He thought back to an hour ago when they''d all told him their real names. ¡°I¡¯m Olsen, Olsen Scar.¡± The CLM supporter had said, before following up: ¡°That one over there is Derek Ainstar whereas the big fellow over on the bed here is of course Henrik.¡±


    The big muscular giant snorted.


    ¡°Bulkster, not Henrik,¡± Ronin corrected.


    Derek broke into laughter. ¡°Bulkster! Hahaha, it fits.¡±


    Scowling at the bionic man, Henrik then looked at Ronin. ¡°You''re a real man Ronin, so I don¡¯t mind that name from you, but you-¡± He pointed at Derek.


    ¡°Ok, ok. I won¡¯t call you Bulkster¡­ Bulkster.¡± Derek quipped back with mischief written all over his face.


    ¡°What!? you-¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t know what to make of you when you first arrived.¡± Olsen said, breaking off the banter.


    ¡°Last night made us even more worried, but the display in the arena pretty much showed us you could have done a lot more than what you did to Marvin and Pracksus. You probably would have gotten away with it too.¡± His lips curved into a slight smile. ¡°You didn¡¯t, and as for Marvin and his friend. Let''s just say new cellmates had a tendency to disappear whenever they were around. They''re actually the reason we were only 6 people here when you first arrived, instead of 10.¡±


    It had made sense to Ronin when it was explained to him, but the underlying philosophical meaning was still confusing.


    When acting friendly, it leads to violence, scheming and backstabbing. Conversely, when I act like a violent brute first, people become sincere, open and trusting. It was the complete opposite of everything he thought he knew about the world.


    Despite his exhaustion from the battle, he entered his mind space and began working on opening the gate. If there was one thing he needed above all else, it was mental strength, and that gate gave off just the right feeling. Fortunately, he¡¯d noticed that unlike the first gate, this one could be worked on bit by bit. This would be a long-term project, but in prison, there was nothing but time.


    Mayor Brunstein was not in a good mood today. The terrorist organization calling themselves the Concordia Liberation Movement, had, before Operation Lightfall, been on quite the upswing. They''d not only been executing bigger and bigger operations as time passed, causing more and more damage, but they''d also been under the protection of a highly secure information network. On top of that, they''d been generously funded.


    By whom? He didn''t know.


    After that operation though¡­ It was as if they¡¯d suddenly lost all their funding. Corrupt officials, previously on their payroll had begun giving up their locations. The previously steady shipment of arms and tech had stopped. It had been a dream come true. They''d finally begun beating back the terrorists. They''d been winning!


    Too bad nothing good lasts forever.


    Looking over the latest report, it became clear that the CLMs mysterious backer, was back. In addition, there was a new security issue arising. Ruddles.


    I¡¯d never expected a rodent normally dealt with by pest control to become a security issue, the seasoned mayor thought, shaking his head.


    As he continued reading further into the report, he only became increasingly confounded until he finally couldn''t take it anymore. He pinged his secretary.


    [Miss Jersey, who was in charge of the section in the report concerning these¡­] He cleared his throat, [ruddles?]


    [Mayor? Umm, that would be Group Captain Sima Hui sir. Want me to connect you up?]


    [Please¡­] Exhaling heavily, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder:


    These creatures have never been an issue before. Mostly eating insects and acting as scavengers when desperate, they almost never grouped up. There weren''t supposed to be that many of them left. The largest pack he''d ever heard about, was a group of a few hundred once, feeding off a nearby landfill site, just outside Ironglades.


    [Sir! Is this concerning the ruddles?] The new voice of Captain Sima Hui spoke over the line, breaking his chain of thought.


    [Group Captain¡­ Do you even need to ask?]


    [I guess that''s reasonable, concerning the situation.] Barely missing a beat, the guard captain continued:


    [The preponderance of recordings, eyewitness accounts and forensic evidence from the victims of these new ruddle swarms, makes this new threat undeniable. There are swarms in the hundreds of thousands roaming our city sir. People are afraid to leave their homes, transport services are refusing to travel to certain areas and factories have shut down. Just this week alone we''ve had over a thousand casualties.]


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    [I understand. Though I can hardly believe it.] The mayor sighed.


    [I can hardly believe it myself sir.]


    [I will order a curfew. Whatever else you need, just write it down and send the list over to my secretary. It will be taken care of.] He ended the call.


    As he leaned back in his chair, however, his implant began ringing.


    ¡°What is it now?¡± He grumbled before pulling up the holoscreen. Minister Bladia Ungtari?


    He mentally nudged the answer button.


    [Yes?]


    The holographic image of the aged, white-haired woman began talking: [Mayor, I¡¯ve stumbled onto a bit of a problem concerning a dispute between the Space Force Academy and the Planetary Guard.]


    [Alright minister, seeing as you¡¯re calling me, it can''t be that small now, can it? Out with it.] He answered, chuckling at the old fox.


    Rising to the position of minister in Tar was no easy feat. But she¡¯d done it, balancing her way through the snake pit called politics for decades.


    [It seems a certain Wing Commander called Julius decided to earn some extra credit on the side. After fabricating evidence, he captured and imprisoned a student from the academy. Turns out, that student, is a highly valued genius and the academy is not happy.]


    Brunstein facepalmed. Julius, you greedy fool. You finally went and did it didn¡¯t you? Now you¡¯ve stepped in a pile of dirt so big, even a minister is after you.


    Sighing for the second time today, he followed up: [And I assume they want their genius back in one piece as soon as possible?]


    The woman''s hologram profile answered with a dignified nod: [Indeed, the principal himself personally requested me.]


    [Alright, I''ll see what I can do.]


    He made a call to the Marshal; Today would be a busy day.


    The days following his arena battle had turned out great for Ronin. No one had tried to collect on the bounty. He''d been a little suspicious of his cellmates in the beginning, but as time passed, they''d proven to be reliable.


    Every morning, when it was time to run through the big door, people tried to avoid him, in essence translating into the prisoners'' equivalence of a red carpet. He could now leisurely jog most of the way towards the door. It was only towards the end that the crowd got so tightly packed that nobody recognized him anymore. Towards the end, everyone had to struggle. The pressure from so many people trying to squeeze through a gap, inevitably led to a lot of pushing and elbowing in order to get through. At this stage, if you weren¡¯t careful and tripped, the crowd would drown you, trampling you under the desperate stampede for the lifesaving masks on the other side.


    Before beginning his dutiful job as a miner, he''d snuck off into the less crowded areas, removed his cuffs then begun practicing the stances from The Kalvrakian Embrace. The unrelenting corrosive pressure of the atmosphere seemed to accelerate his practice even more. Every other day he¡¯d managed to lock in another stance. It was not before he attempted the 7th stance that he encountered problems. It was doable, but progress had slowed. Only after 5 days, did he finally lock it in, beginning on the 8th. This was when he noticed that something was wrong. After an entire day of practice, that is once before the morning alarm, once towards the end of his mining shift and now, once before bed, he¡¯d only progressed by about 2%.


    At this rate it would take 50 days to complete the next stance... What am I missing?


    Before he could think more on the issue, he was interrupted by the large burly man sitting next to him.


    ¡°Again!¡± Bulkster shouted.


    Ronin rolled up his sleeves and placed his arms, still in cuffs, back on the makeshift table, ready for another round of arm wrestling.


    The comparatively larger hand engulfed Ronin¡¯s as the contest began.


    When they''d begun this daily ritual, he¡¯d lost each and every exchange they''d had. The larger man¡¯s bigger arms and better technique had won out easily in the beginning, but Ronin was a quick learner.


    ¡°It will just end like last time. You can¡¯t beat me, not anymore.¡± He said, pulling the two interlocking hands closer to his side of the table.


    ¡°Arrogant!¡± The bigger man grunted, leaning his entire body closer to compensate for the loss of leverage.


    It would not be enough though. Ronin had put on some muscle after the alien infection, but that was not the reason for his strength. The foreign energy from the alien artifact permeated every cell, forever changing them into something else, something stronger. Now that he¡¯d mastered the arm-wrestling technique, he¡¯d never lose against Bulkster again.


    Clamping down on the table with his elbow and knee, he slowly lowered the bigger hand down.


    ¡°Dammit!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s no use Henrik, he was always stronger. It was only a matter of time before he¡¯d learn enough to beat you, there''s no point in trying anymore.¡± Derek Ainstar, the bionic man said.


    ¡°Unlike you, I¡¯m not the kind of man who gives up.¡±


    ¡°It''s called being smart, I didn¡¯t fight the Planetary Guard when they came to demand I pay my taxes.¡±


    ¡°We''ve already talked about this! I¡¯d already paid my taxes, but they wanted more. Of course I had to stand up for myself.¡±


    Yeah, out of every possible crime the big man could have been in for, tax evasion was the last thing on Ronin''s mind when he¡¯d heard. Kind of difficult to imagine, considering how much he enjoyed the brutality down in the arena.


    ¡°By the way, anyone interested in coming along to watch the meteor shower tomorrow?¡± Olsen Scar asked.


    Meteor shower? More importantly¡­ we¡¯re in a prison inside a literal mountain right now! How?


    Probably noticing his confusion, the CLM man chuckled.


    ¡°There are pathways out of the mountain. We''ll have to work for a few hours more, but if your body can handle the extra burn, it''s well worth the show. ¡°


    ¡°Naw, I¡¯m not into that kind of stuff.¡± Bulkster brushed him off.


    Derek simply pointed towards his metallic parts: ¡°No can do.¡±


    Olsen looked over at Ronin, ¡°What about you? Only happens once every year.¡±


    ¡°Sure, why not.¡± A meteor shower on a new planet? Of course I''m going!


    ¡°...¡±


    After having made up his mind on going meteor watching with Olsen, Ronin got back into his daily routine of grinding away at the gate in his mind palace. He was so close now. 30 minutes of grinding turned into an hour. The hour became 3 hours before finally, the precipice was in sight.


    With a decisive last push, the gate blasted open and with it came not memories this time, but experience.


    ¡°...¡±


    Sitting on a meditation mat, Ronin gazed at the instructor with fervor.


    ¡°The endless path is a lonely journey. Not a single warrior of eternity has not had a mind of steel. Souls break under the weight of truth; the heavens seek for all things to return to origin. How do you defy it?¡±


    In response, Ronin, as well as all the fellow aliens stood up and began roaring at the heavens. Ronin felt it, in that rage was an indomitable spirit, unyielding and ferocious, willing to stand against anything.


    As the vision of the instructor faded, the scene changed and a series of battles flashed by: Hundreds, then, thousands, every single one different. In each and every battle, a singular purpose remained constant. That very same indomitable spirit used every technique, every emotion felt, be it the despair of defeat or the euphoria of victory to build upon itself. The experience accumulated more and more until, finally, right at the end, a battle soul was forged.


    Battle Soul: A warrior soul forged to withstand eternity. Forged with struggle, instinct, technique and will.


    What an incredibly versatile art! Perhaps I could even use this in virtual reality?


    Then he felt it, the backlash. His mind palace rumbled, and cracks began expanding. Argh! He mobilized his nascent battle soul in an attempt to mitigate the damage, but this gate was much larger than the last one. The battle erupted; unstoppable damage caused by an overloaded mind washed over him as an indomitable will to resist fate rose up in defiance. The expanding cracks met an increasingly stronger resistance. The pain radiating from his mind fueled his will. The struggle empowered him. But in the end, he was still injured.


    Opening his eyes, it was dark in his cell. He should have been able to see, but he didn''t, not anymore.

 Chapter 15: Promise

    Ronin felt a creeping sensation of horror creep up his back. Would his vision return? He couldn¡¯t see anymore; everything was simply black, and his head hurt so much it felt as if it had been split open.


    I need to fix this.


    He once again entered his mind palace. Hopefully the situation was still salvageable. As he looked around his internal world, large rifts and tears ravaged the landscape. Much of the outer walls both protecting and containing his memories and sense of self had crumbled. Though his mental palace was already cracked and damaged before he opened that gate, this was something else entirely. But the situation wasn¡¯t hopeless... Over time, after having lived with a damaged mind for a while now, he¡¯d found a way to fix it.


    Beginning with the first crack nearby, he imagined himself lifting up a heavy piece of metal, then placing it within the crack. Next, he imagined himself holding a blowtorch, then welding the crack shut. Hurt as he was, the piece of metal felt heavy, and the blowtorch caused his already sore mind to radiate pain. This would take time, but he was at least making progress. Metallic plate by metallic plate, block by block, he slowly began making repairs. The strain of the work made the headache worse, but after having finally sealed the 3rd crack, he felt that the deeper kind of pain began lessening. He was straining his mind to its limit, but the worst of the injuries were improving. He walked over to the fourth crack. This was a large one, looking more like a rift, it was both longer and wider than the others as it tore through large parts of his internal world.


    This is going to be a long night, he thought, then, once again began mobilizing his strength, lifting up another piece of metal. This time, he managed to tap into something new. Faint illusionary images began lighting up outside his mindscape, their shape remaining indistinct, they flickered in and out of existence as they maintained their ethereal presence.


    At least I''ve gained something from all of this. He knew what this was, this new property added onto his mind. The Potentia Panorama called it: The Battle Soul.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The next day, Ronin opened his eyes slowly. His head still hurt. It wasn¡¯t as bad as before, but right now, there was a greater concern. Squinting his eyes, he could make out vague outlines of shapes. As the artificial morning lights began illuminating the prison complex, the vague outlines became clearer and although reduced, he could make out his bunk, the cellmates around him and the railings outside along the gangway.


    He could see. And it''s not permanent, he sighed in relief.


    He¡¯d underestimated the threat from the gates in the Potentia Panorama. This was a rude wake up call, but at least it happened before he did something irreversible.


    Next time I do something like that, my mind HAS to be ready.


    He hadn¡¯t even fully fixed the damage from when he obtained the artifact. To have felt confident enough to open a gate he¡¯d had to grind away at for almost two weeks, was... foolhardy, the acts of a clown. He decided, his mind would take first priority from now on. Never again would he subject himself to something like this!


    As the morning alarm once again began booming and he was lifted down to the first floor, he and his CLM cellmate terrorist quickly made their way through the heaving mass of inmates and over to the other side of the door. Ronin did have some trouble finding a mask though, on the count of his reduced vision, but with a little help from the CLM supporter, they¡¯d found one that fit. Other inmates tended to move away when he approached, and when he approached an aisle, geared out with plenty of masks, they''d made way, something he obviously didn¡¯t mind.


    The gate opened and high-pressured acid air filled the room. ¡°Are you sure you want to come along after we¡¯ve handed in the carts?¡± Olsen Scar asked. He¡¯d been looking at Ronin with worry ever since seeing the dried-up blood around his eyes this morning.


    ¡°My vision is slightly reduced but it should improve as we work. I¡¯ll be fine by the time we leave. Also, is that worry I hear in your voice? Worry about ME? Heh! Can¡¯t wait to tell Bulkster about this!¡±


    ¡°Hey, come on! I was just asking, Bulkster, ahem, I mean Henrik doesn¡¯t need to know alright?¡±


    Ronin was not going to miss this. Watching huge pieces of rock descend from the sky on a completely different planet?! He was going, No. Matter. What!


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    Though I do need to be actually able to see first


    They worked together to speed up the process. Olsen manned the jack-hammer-like device, while half-blind Ronin felt his way towards the freshly loosened pieces of rock. Olsen fractured the rocks; Ronin placed them into the carts. It was fast, easy and efficient. It gave him time to work on his mind palace while Olsen switched positions. He struggled a lot with lifting that jack hammer, which gave Ronin plenty of time to work on himself. He honestly didn''t know how strong he was anymore. He was stronger than when he''d fought in the arena, but by how much? That jack hammer had felt like nothing the first day he came here, so he couldn''t use that as his measuring stick. Arm-wrestling? Nope, arm-wrestling depended a lot on technique and reach.


    CRACK!


    His cellmate launched another burst of pressure into the basalt, fracturing it. He temporarily shelved the question before picking up more rock fragments.


    They continued working and by the time they¡¯d filled a total of 20 minecarts, his sight, at least, was mostly back. As they began moving along a different set of tunnels, leading into an entirely different section of the mining complex, Ronin saw more and more people both ahead of him and behind him. They walked into something akin to a central tunnel, hundreds of people continued streaming in from its side passages. He could now see thousands of other inmates both behind them and in front.


    ¡°Have anyone tried to escape like this?¡± Ronin asked.


    ¡°In the beginning we all had to go on this pilgrimage¡­ the prison enforced it. Maybe they thought it would help rehabilitate us or something.¡± The CLM man said, pointing towards one of the aged posters along the tunnel wall.


    It was a poster depicting a spaceship, transporting a huge chunk of ice towards a black planet. It read: ¡°A new life has more meaning when you see what you build. We are all valued cogs in the machine called civilization!¡±


    ¡°The meteors are made of ice?!¡± Ronin asked in surprise.


    ¡°Yeah, it''s all a part of the terraforming project¡­ They put boosters onto comets out in the Urds Cloud, then send them here. Anyways, with regards to escape, some have tried, but this prison is not without its defense systems. The escapees attempted to fly out, so they had some comrades come in on a ship, I guess you could call that a plan.¡± Olsen chuckled, ¡°Too bad the ship got shot down the moment it approached the complex, so it wasn¡¯t exactly a good plan. Well, on the bright side, we all got to watch quite the show.¡±


    There was a break in the conversation as the tunnel rose into a short, steep incline. After they climbed up, Olsen, in between breaths, continued: ¡°The planets moons have military installations¡­ They¡¯re kitted out with everything from rail guns and rockets to high powered lasers¡­ The complex has some stuff too¡­ If you ask me, it''s pretty much impossible to escape.¡±


    For a while they just continued walking. The long line of people in front of them, as well as behind, gave the whole event an almost religious feeling.


    Ronin thought about what the CLM supporter had said¡­ Pilgrimage¡­ Not for a God, not for a politician¡­ A pilgrimage for mankind itself, like, look at what we can do. Look at who we are. We birth worlds into our own image. We don¡¯t adapt, we make worlds adapt.


    The tunnel eventually widened into a large plateau on the side of the mountain. They could now see distant volcanoes spewing out hot lava and smoke in the distance. Endless lightning bolts flashed across the skies, faintly illuminating the barren landscape. As he lined up along the rest of the inmates, he could see rows upon rows of guards, clad in war suits, ready to strike the moment anybody tried to run.


    He, along with the rest of the inmates, stood in quiet solemnity but didn¡¯t have to wait long before the ash filled sky was broken and a bright streak of light struck down from above.


    A meteor!


    The heavenly body only became brighter and brighter until finally, in an explosion of illumination, the ash was blown away. As the clouds of ash separated, the skies opened up, and the red sun became momentarily visible. Finally, there was a sonic BOOM, announcing the death of the meteor.


    ¡°It¡¯s times like this I¡¯m reminded of why I joined the Concordia Liberation Movement.¡± Olsen said.


    ¡°If you ever get out of here, either leave Tar or join the resistance. We live in an age where the stars are at our fingertips. Cosmic marvels are out there, so grand and majestic, our ancestors could neither conceive nor imagine them¡­ We humans have now the power to visit them, but we of Concordia can¡¯t. All of mankind should share in this, not just the powerful¡­ You¡¯re different Ronin, I have a feeling there is more in store for you yet. Promise me this: If you ever get out, follow your dream, if not for yourself, do it for those of us left behind. Just share our stories if you ever make it.¡±


    Ronin looked to the skies as more and more streaks of light began appearing. Before the following sonic booms could drown out his voice, he promised.


    ¡°Alright, I will. If I ever do get out of here, though I won''t be sharing any stories in Tar. The moment I get the opportunity, I''m leaving this kingdom, you better believe that!¡± Then, when I''m finally free from a corrupt police force, free to make what I want, I will make the greatest spaceship ever built.

 Chapter 16: Unexpected Visit

    After the meteor shower, Ronin fell back into familiar routines. He had once again picked up speed with the Kalvrakian Embrace and after about two weeks of hard work, he was almost done with the ninth stance.


    Could my rate of progress depend on the types of experiences I go through? When I arrived here, in under two weeks, I reached the 8th stance, but my progress slowed down so much after reaching that stance, it would have taken me 50 days, just to reach the 9th. Now, however, after opening another gate and achieving the Battle Soul, my progress has once again picked up speed...


    It might be that the technique required him to break down both his body and mind in order for it to then rebuild him back up again. He shuddered at the thought. If his body and mind had to be broken down, tempered, then rebuilt, again and again... How much would he have to go through in order to complete the 108th stance! These last few weeks had already been more than enough "experience" for his taste. He wasn''t some kind of masochist!


    He''d also focused a lot on healing his mindscape and through a lot of tedious work, he not only fixed his sight, but he also got rid of the annoying headache. He''d learned from the last screw-up though. He didn''t stop, working relentlessly on making his mind perfect. This time, he wouldn''t even allow for the slightest crack to remain, his mind should be an immovable object, crystal clear, immutable, unalterable by anyone but himself. He still had a long way to go, but he was making steady progress. Compared to before, his mindscape now, gave off a reassuring feeling of stability.


    But more important than anything else, after obtaining the Battle Soul technique, he now felt the subconscious influence of the Potentia Panorama. When he focused in closely, analyzing his thoughts to an almost obsessive degree, it had materialized. A sort of inconsistency, shaped in the form of a golden energy, draping his mind. Through the vague shapes representing his new technique, he could see it, in all its glory, slightly mutating each and every thought he had as they emerged.


    What the Battle Soul did, beyond allowing him to see the mutation, was let him resist this insidious influence. Since the arena battle, he hadn¡¯t fought once. Two weeks, not a single fight.


    ¡°...¡±


    Having just put his cuffs back on from another round of stance exercises, he spotted a couple of guards walking up to his cell.


    ¡°Inmate 5348! Come out!¡±


    What''s going on? They usually never come down here like this.


    Walking out, he was escorted along the gangway and out of the common hall. Now, out of the central part of the complex, they walked along a number of passageways, the dull metallic gray walls seemingly growing upwards from the floor, matching the identically colored ceiling. As their hollow footsteps echoed out across the eerily empty construction, they eventually came to a stop.


    Standing in front of a door, Ronin looked up, above it hung a sign. Visitation? Who would travel to a different planet to visit ME? Who could?


    As the guards opened the door, then pushed him inside, he was struck dumb on the spot. Not moving, he only stood there, mouth agape, his brain short-circuited from the shock of what he was seeing.


    Professor Raverus Ravent!?


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Well don¡¯t just stand there, come here, sit down, sit down.¡± The professional voice of his practical teacher rang out.


    Employing his newly gained battle soul technique, Ronin reigned himself in.


    ¡°Teacher? What are you doing here?


    ¡°Seeing as I''m the one primarily responsible for overall update and maintenance of Exodons prison transport ships, it''s only natural I would be the one to make the journey.¡±


    "That''s not what I mean, WHY are you HERE?¡±


    ¡°Before any of that, there is something we¡¯ll have to clarify.¡± The professor leisurely took out an air brush and began grooming himself. He cleared his throat.


    ¡°Describe the features of the academy suit.¡±


    Taken aback, Ronin walked up, then took a seat. "Well¡­ It''s an expensive suit equipped with radiation detection technology, temperature control, a shield generator, a jet pack and-¡±


    "It''s a lab suit, why does it have these functions?¡±


    ¡°Professor, I really don-¡±


    ¡°Just answer the question,¡± His lecturer interrupted, neither his voice, nor his expression giving anything away.


    ¡°Ehm, alright.¡± He replied, not expecting a lesson here of all places.


    ¡°The temperature control is installed for times our lab work requires us to work on spaceship components, only stable under specific temperatures, temperatures which are not very pleasant for humans to work in.¡±


    The professor gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see, the radiation detection addons are obvious seeing as a radiation leak in the lab could be fatal. The shield generator stores up all the energy supplied into a one-time energy shield which I presume would be to protect against a potential lab explosion? That leaves the jetpack¡­which is there to assist landings?¡±


    ¡°Assist landings?¡± A slight smile emerged on the normally cool and unresponsive face.


    ¡°Let me clue you in as to why a lab suit, from out of all the possible useful and relevant options out there, would be equipped with something as ridiculous as a jetpack.¡±


    Raverus Ravent raised a finger, emphasizing the point.


    ¡°Envy! like a little brother, trying to copy the older, the reason jetpacks are popular in Tar, is solely due to our powerful neighbors. While it¡¯s fashionable and affordable for them to fly around with anti-gravity-based clothing, we here install unwieldy, heavy jetpacks. The academy suit weighs 16kg and 10 of those are because of the jetpack. A jetpack nobody uses.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± Ronin cut in. Is it really that simple?


    ¡°You¡¯re the exception. There¡¯s been studies on this. Listen, I asked that question because it shows just how small and insignificant this kingdom really is. If The Sichuan Empire says jump, Tar¡¯s only question is: how high? If the Protus coalition comes up with a new trend, you¡¯ll see Tar bending over backwards trying to imitate them.¡±


    ¡°You ask me why I am here? To get you out of course! Did you think the academy would abandon a promising student like you just like that? I told you about the jetpack because of what it signifies. It only takes a single person from a higher system to turn our entire kingdom around! A powerful person from Sichuan could just say the word and that empire would change their policy towards us. Tar would completely change as a result! A single person, if they reach high enough, have more power than billions in this galaxy! That means, every single member of the kingdom smart enough, and with enough potential, is a national asset of such enormous importance, our entire states fate, hinges on their will alone! I¡¯ve called the prison warden himself down here to answer for what they¡¯ve done. They never should have locked you up.¡±


    Ronin mulled over the lecture. A single powerful man from a higher system turning around an entire state. That meant there was an enormous gap in power between systems and if he sought that power, if he wanted to be the master of his own destiny, he should seek higher systems first.


    After a slight pause, he asked the professor, ¡°I might blackmail the warden a bit, you ok with that?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect anything less.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m, I¡¯m sorry, I just can¡¯t.¡± The warden said, bowing his head in apology.


    ¡°Do you know just how much of a national strategic asset a genius is? You not only forced this genius through hell, you made me, alone, fight against 50 people in a life and death battle, you might as well have pulled the trigger yourself, that''s a death sentence. As I rise in rank and gain more influence, a mere word from me could cost you a lot more than just your career... You understand that right?¡± Ronin pressed.


    ¡°Just please listen to me! You can have a war suit as well as the real name of inmate 1437, but releasing your cellmates would mean my death! I can¡¯t do it!¡±


    Ronin had to hold himself back from smiling. A war suit! He could only imagine what he¡¯d do when he got his hands on that thing. It might be illegal for a civilian to walk around in that death machine, but what if he retrofitted it? What if he made it look like a civilian suit? He''d just look like a really, really big person. Yeah, he could definitely make this work.


    With regards to the warden, there was no grudge to begin with. Whatever happened to that guy, Ronin didn¡¯t care either way. No. His grudge was with the prisoners who cat-called him, with the people who, while knowing of his innocence, put him here, in this hellscape. His grudge was with Specter, the man called the "Ghost Butcher"¡­


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    The healing nanobots being maybe, likely, probably very possibly, owned and tracked by the Sichuan Empire, were out of the question. Raverus Ravent had been very clear on Ronin getting rid of those as fast as possible.


    To think I¡¯ll be leaving this place just like that.


    ¡°Any chance I¡¯ll get to see my cellmates again before I leave?¡± He asked, just to make sure.


    The professor gave him a look, his eyes telling him all he needed to know. ¡°The warden would allow it, but I won¡¯t. You¡¯ve already been here long enough, and I¡¯m on a schedule.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    They walked out the door and back among the dull passageways, making their way towards the hangar. After what must have been over half an hour, they reached the hall he''d come in from when he''d first arrived. The place they''d taken his clothes and disabled his implant. Ronin inwardly shivered, having to force himself step by step towards the wall. He knew what would happen next. It was one of the worst experiences he''d had since coming here and now, it was happening all over again.


    Once he was in position, the creepy lifelike metallic tentacles erupted from the walls surface, locking his limbs fast in a tight embrace.


    As a bot floated up beside his neck, extracting the nanites, Professor Ravent took out a strange looking device. Being about the size of a human arm, and colored by an intermix of gray and black, it had an eye shaped cup on top. What truly put Ronin off though, was the blue liquid circulating throughout this bizarre contraption, trapped in transparent tubes.


    ¡°You might want to brace yourself for this.¡± The professor said, then placed the eye shaped cup onto his right eye.


    ¡°Hang on professor, what exa- Argh!¡±


    Still locked in place by the tentacles, Ronin felt an intense itch began clawing its way into his eye. He tried closing the eye, but it didn¡¯t help.


    ¡°What actually cut your connection to your optical implant was damage to your optic nerve. Severed correctly, it lets you retain vision while taking away any and all access to the implant.¡±


    Ronin needed to scratch the itch, he HAD to!


    Professor Ravent continued: ¡°This type of operation is remarkably effective, the right types of implants continue to receive and transmit, but only the prison guards can see what. This lets them know everything the inmate does, all the while, the inmates being none the wiser. Well, your implant can''t be listened in on of course, smart choice getting the Uninet-2000.¡±


    Ronin¡¯s arms kept twitching against his will, trying to reach his eye. The itch had become a grand encompassing object of singular focus.


    ¡°The itch! This is horrible!¡±


    His practical lecturer didn¡¯t seem to register his turmoil at all! The blue liquid in the device continued evaporating, before being released in gas form into his eye.


    ¡°The way they damage the optic nerve, however, makes it almost impossible to heal. It why I had to use a device like this. It''s a 5th rate knockoff of a knockoff of the real thing, but to someone like us, it''s a heavenly elixir. Based on ancient artificial stem cell technology, it''s said that the real thing can grant a person immortal life, but it''s only a rumor out here on the fringes of mankind''s domain. Regardless, we are at least left with this blue variant, and it will heal your optic nerve, but it does itch. Alot.¡±


    As Raverus removed the device, the itch subsided a little.


    ¡°You could have warned me about this!¡± Ronin managed to get out between sharp breaths.


    ¡°I did¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t mention how bad it would be!¡±


    ¡°Telling you before you were restrained would have been suboptimal.¡±


    He gave up. Talking to this guy was like talking to a brick wall.


    As the itching finally became somewhat manageable, the tentacles released their hold on him and they began walking towards a spaceship.


    The ship, elegantly shaped, colored black with sharp intermixing lines of silver and gold, had two huge circular thrusters, promising great speed. Spanning over 60 meters in length, it had a crew of technical officers circling it, plugging in, and pulling out a series of cables, all the while tapping their fingers in the air.


    ¡°Pre-flight analyses.¡± The professor commented, noticing Ronin''s interest.


    ¡°What are they measuring?¡±


    ¡°Specifically? Well¡­ anything to do with the outer hull I¡¯d say. You know¡­ microfractures, bends, electrical damage, material deformation, that sort of stuff.¡±


    ¡°But the ship looks perfect. How could there be anything wrong?¡±


    Raverus Ravent frowned, he actually frowned! This was the most emotional Ronin had ever seen the guy.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t use that word in front of me. And no, it¡¯s not true that just because something looks fine, that it is. I¡¯d expect you to know better after the fusion engine repair exercise.¡± The professor began to walk off, clearly not wanting to talk anymore.


    Did that word really tick him off that much?


    ¡°Hey! Wait for me, how long will the itch last before its gone?¡±


    The man picked up speed, but at least Ronin got an answer:


    ¡°3-5 hours and you¡¯ll be fine. That''s also about the time it¡¯ll take for your optical implant to properly connect. You¡¯ll be able to browse the net to your heart''s content before we reach Ironglades¡± His progressively fainter voice rang across the hangar.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    They reached the gangway leading up and into the ship, the professor way ahead of Ronin of course. As he walked up the temporary path, he was greeted by a well-dressed, uniformed man. Standing at the entrance of the ship along with two others, likely his assistants, he erupted into a bright smile.


    ¡°Good! Right on time student, we should make the journey back in a jiffy! Welcome to Goldwing. I¡¯ll be your captain today and if you experience any turbulence during travel today, blame the planet not the captain, hahaha!¡± He laughed.


    ¡°Thank you! Name¡¯s Ronin!¡± He stretched out a hand and got an enthusiastic handshake in return.


    ¡°Names Jarski. This here is Pablo, and this is Erina.¡± The captain happily greeted back, pointing at his two assistants.


    Ronin walked into the ship, eyes wide in amazement. This ship was on a whole other level! He¡¯d been in jet-buses and plenty of shuttles, but never something like this. This was a corvette. The real deal. The elegant corridors were painted, likely by hand, depicting star systems, ships and humans locked in grand battles against aliens. The specifics of the battles were difficult to make out, owing to the impressionist style they were painted in, but the overall theme was clear.


    Vastness and struggle, Ronin''s mind resonated as he walked into the luxurious ship.


    ¡°Pablo, why don¡¯t you show our new guest around.¡± The captain spoke in an upbeat manner.


    ¡°Very well sir! How about it kid, wanna see the engine room?¡±


    Ronin, having momentarily forgotten about the itching eye the moment he entered the spaceship, immediately lit up upon hearing the question.


    ¡°E-engine room?! Are you serious?! Are you sure that''s ok?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Ravent made himself clear.¡± Pablo laughed, then began speaking in a fake monotonous tone, attempting to mimic the professor: "Mr. Maximus is to have free reign on my ship. But don¡¯t, eeeh, under any circumstances let him move stuff around. Ahem, also make sure he washes his hands first. I don¡¯t want my ship dirty.¡±


    I think I''m beginning to understand now¡­ He¡¯s a perfectionist¡­ why else would he walk off the moment I said the word perfect?


    They didn¡¯t have to walk long before they were in the engine room. Two large fusion reactors stood in the middle of the room, sleekly integrated into the floor as cables ran out from the engines, then in and under the metal plated floor, each plate a panel which could be removed at demand to do repairs. As a couple of lab-coat clad technicians walked around the two massive machines, continually running diagnostics, Pablo and Ronin walked closer.


    ¡°Over there, you can see the name and edition of the engine,¡± the assistant said, pointing towards a corner of one of the machines.


    In small letters, engraved into the metal it read:


    ¡°Westein-3416C-RR¡±


    ¡°A Westein? Aren¡¯t those the old engines used by transport ships?¡±


    Pablo nodded. ¡°True, but these two have been modified by Mr. Ravent. By applying new design solutions, updated software and better materials, these two bad boys have been upgraded from something installed on a rock hauler, into something more commonly seen in a racing ship. You¡¯ll see once we start moving¡±


    As Ronin and Pablo, with the help of one of the technicians, discussed the various engine components, the light in the room turned red as the voice of the captain sounded over the speakers.


    [Prepare for engine activation in T minus 60 seconds.]


    The technician hurried off to help his friend as more and more parts on the engines began turning on and ramping up.


    With a soft HUM, the two machines fully activated and the red light in the room turned orange.


    [Running pre-launch diagnostics. Stand by¡­ Power supply nominal.]


    It was barely noticeable, but Ronin felt a slight shift in movement.


    What kind of internal dampeners have they installed here?! This is crazy! I barely feel the ship moving.


    ¡°Alright kid, where do you wanna go now? The bridge?¡± Pablo asked, waggling his eyebrows.


    ¡°...¡±


    Ronin sat in his cabin, he¡¯d gotten the full tour, from the luxurious bridge, adorned by what must have been hundreds of buttons and levers, to a mess hall filled with sweet tasting nutrient packs, much better than that prison crap he¡¯d been eating for weeks upon weeks now. If prison planet Exodon had taught him one thing, it was the glorious delights of the flavored nutrient pack. Any taste, at this point, was better than the stuff he¡¯d worked his ass off for, as a miner, every day.


    He was currently working on the touch wall of his cabin. It was supposed to turn transparent, letting him view the space outside if he could just get it to work. With no working optical implant however, it turned out to be quite tricky.


    ¡°Come on you!¡± He grumbled, clicking and swiping the lit-up representations of buttons and screens on the wall.


    ¡°Ahh, FINALLY!¡±


    Text appeared on the wall: ¡°Transparent mode activated,¡± and the outside became visible. The Lobar Sector, being located on the very edge of the Centaurus Arm, gave him a clear view of the sea of stars representing the Sagittarius Arm. Beyond it, further out and away from the galactic center, between the Cygnus-, and Orion spur, was the heartland of humanity, Sol.


    The majestic view of the galactic plane got him thinking:


    I wonder what they are doing over there... What do they think about? How¡¯s their lives? Do they look into the skies and wonder¡­ like me?


    He imagined being a designer on a grand ship, traveling into strange nebula, finding new forms of life and technology. He imagined teleporting between planets with but a thought, then visiting galactic megastructures so large he¡¯d have to leave the star system, just to be able to fully see them.


    I¡¯d like to go there once¡­ To see for myself.

 Chapter 17: Homecoming

    Ronin was once again greeted by the familiar grey landscape of deep valleys and high rises as the ship approached Ironglades. As it was still early dawn, when the ship pierced the smog filled clouds, Ronin was greeted by a glittering sea of neon lights. The electrically charged noble gas illuminated countless, closely stacked, gray skyscrapers. The familiar buildings, built so closely they often merged into each other, made the entire city look like a jagged amalgamation of concrete and metal. The pattern was only broken by the large factories and important structures elevated on tall plateaus, occupying the city''s very center.


    [Ding! Connection restored.]


    His optical implant was finally accessible again, as unread message after unread message began announcing their arrival. His holoscreen became increasingly cluttered. Messages of various levels of urgency began sounding out:


    [Message from ¡°Real-World-Gaming¡±: Due to a lack of further contact, we have installed the Virtual reality chamber at a location of our choosing in the designated spaceship factory, Maximus Solutions at district 13, street 25.]


    [Message from ¡°Real-World-Gaming¡±: Urgent! Confirmation of acceptance of VR installation is required.]


    [Ding! Message from ¡°Real-World-Gaming¡±: Urgent! See previous messages. If no response is given, all current contracts will be voided.]


    There was also a slew of messages from others, including his uncle, Simons, the academy as well as some older friends. Waving away the messages for now, Ronin got up and headed for the bridge. After passing through a couple of painted passageways, he reached an open door. As he walked past it, an electronic voice stemming from somewhere on the bridge sounded out.


    [Confirmed entry, Ronin Maximus, disabling neutralization protocol.]


    Good thing they wrote me in as a guest, he thought.


    He could see the captain sitting down, leisurely drinking some sort of black colored hot drink.


    ¡°Oh, the man of the hour. What brings you here?¡± The captain asked.


    ¡°Any chance you could land the ship at my place?¡±


    Jarski scratched his beard. ¡°Hmm, if there¡¯s space, sure, but wasn¡¯t your place destroyed by that attack a few weeks back?¡±


    ¡°I work at a place called Maximus Solutions, It''s a spaceship factory. It has a runway so there should be plenty of room for you to land.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I can¡¯t see why not. Let me check in with the boss.¡±


    The captain''s eyes began flickering as he started texting the professor.


    After a short while, he nodded. ¡°Alright, seems Mr. Ravent¡¯s schedule still has enough room for a short pit stop along the way. Just don¡¯t forget to pick up your new academy uniform outside his office¡±


    The ship altered its path before eventually settling down onto the runway. Ronin¡¯s runway. He still couldn¡¯t get the thought of it out of his head. When he looked at the factory he owned, he almost couldn¡¯t believe it. For something as grand as this to actually be owned by one man. The fact that he was that man, gave him impostor syndrome every time he thought about it.


    As the gangway was lowered down, some assistants, with the help of a trolley, brought out the war suit.


    Raverus Ravent, seemingly completely done with Ronin after his comment on how his ship was perfect, opted to stay in his cabin for the entire trip, not coming out, even when Ronin went to pick up the suitcase containing the academy uniform. All he¡¯d heard from the man was a grunt and a short comment on how this new uniform ¡°didn¡¯t have that ridiculous jet pack module installed¡±.


    After saying goodbye to assistant Pablo, Ronin watched the beautiful ship fire up its thrusters, then begin to take off. What would it feel like to design a spaceship like that? Not just a shuttle but a real ship, a ship which could travel the stars, a ship with an FTL drive, a corvette.


    ¡°...¡±


    After having transported what little baggage he had into his factory, which basically was just his two new suits, he began clearing out the virtual mountain of messages on his Uninet-2000. First, he dealt with the company ¡°Real-World-Gaming¡±, scheduling a final appointment at the factory so as to finalize the agreement.


    He then checked in with Uncle Nagata. Ending up composing quite the message, he informed him of everything that happened. From the treachery of the planetary guard, further details concerning the ruddle filled abandoned part of the city he¡¯d entered, as well as what had happened in prison on Exodon. He¡¯d left out anything related to the Potentia Panorama. Anything related to that technique was simply too dangerous to share over the Concordia Network.


    When that was over and done with, he messaged Simons. He¡¯d just written a short message claiming he¡¯d been on an important company meeting off-world. Simons didn¡¯t need to know. He also decided on a time for them to start working together and set the date to sometime next week. He needed to get his bearings first.


    And on that note, there were his two new suits. The academy uniform, now without a jetpack, was really only made for lab work. There were much better options out there if he wanted something for his own protection. The war suit, on the other hand offered plenty of protection but was illegal to use in civilian areas. That meant, unless he retrofitted it, which he did not know how to do yet, he¡¯d be stopped by the planetary guard.


    I¡¯ve still got a bounty on my head, and until I¡¯ve got the war suit dilemma sorted out, I¡¯ll need something to wear in case of another attack.


    When he¡¯d gotten ambushed in his apartment, he¡¯d been helpless, having to rely purely on instinct to dodge the sniper fire. Laser fire, however, for all of its speed, was relatively weak against shields and armor. He accessed the net and began scanning the public database.


    With my newfound wealth I can disregard the cheaper options.


    With a wave of his hand, Ronin eliminated over 90% of the suits listed.


    Now, what do I truly want?


    A jet pack was a must. He¡¯d also need something that could withstand laser fire and the sort of explosion he¡¯d been subjected to in his apartment. After carefully eliminating more and more of the suits listed, he was eventually left with three options:


    <hr>


    Black Hawk-38D: Bodyguard suit.


    Armor: Can withstand sustained level 2 delta energy


    Shield: Double layered shield. Stable for up to level 4 delta energy and level 2 type explosions. Battery life: 50 hours in standby mode, 30 min in sustained combat.


    Extra: Jetpack


    Weight: 35kg


    Cost: 1.5 million credits


    Frontier-XM13: Exoplanet suit.


    Armor: No value


    Shield: Triple layered shield. Stable for up to level 3 delta energy, level 1 type explosions and level 1 type radiation. Battery life: 130 hours in standby mode, 2 hours in sustained combat.


    Extra: Jetpack, poison filtration, oxygen conversion.


    Weight: 20kg


    Cost: 2 million credits


    Heromaker-99: Luxus suit.


    Armor: Can withstand sustained level 2 delta energy


    Shield: Triple layered shield. Stable for up to level 4 delta energy, level 2 type explosions and level 1 type radiation. Battery life: 100 hours in standby mode, 1 hour in sustained combat.


    Extra: Jetpack, sound dampener, poison filtration, audio system, light projection, exoskeleton, dance routine.


    Weight: 160kg


    Cost: 5 million Credits.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    <hr>


    Ronin considered his options. The Black Hawk suit was cheap and offered good protection. The armor alone would protect against most common laser fire. A sniper rifle would break through, but that''s what the shield was for. On the flip side, its shield didn¡¯t last long and didn¡¯t offer protection against more esoteric types of threats.


    That''s what the frontier suit was for. However, it had no armor and weaker shield protection in general. Compared to his academy suit, it would still fare better against the types of explosions that took out his apartment, but was it really worth the risk?


    Especially when there was that last entry on the list¡­


    Heromaker¡­ Even the name is downright ridiculous.


    Still, it did offer the best overall protection. Being stuffed with so much gear it needed an exoskeleton just to be wearable, it was halfway in between a civilian suit and a war suit, but instead of being equipped with weapons, it was filled with all sorts of ridiculous modules. Light projector? Dance routine? The suit seemed more like something a rich playboy would wear to a party than something actually made for self-defense. It also looked ridiculous, having been painted red with black- and gold-colored flames streaking across the entire thing. There was also the jetpack, which had impractical wings sticking out. To top it off, the suit had a suspiciously shaped gold colored giant codpiece right between its legs.


    Ronin hesitated for a moment, then grumbled inwardly... He knew he had to pick the heromaker, it had better specs, but still...


    I''ll guess I''ll have to look like a clown for a bit, there''s no helping it.


    [Confirm purchase of Heromaker? Yes/No]


    [Yes]


    ¡°...¡±


    After being away from the academy for over a month, there was a lot of homework to go through¡­ He looked further and noticed his latest message¡­


    [You have hereby been accepted into the genius program for spaceship design at the Ironglades Space-Force Academy. These following courses will now be added to your current curriculum: INF: 1003: Introduction to Spacecraft programming languages. MAT: 233: Partial differential equations. PHYS: 220: Introduction to materials science...]


    The list went on. Yeah¡­ He¡¯d be getting really busy from now on. His academy workload had, with that simple message, more than doubled. There were also the instruction manuals for all of the machines in his new factory.


    He ordered some sweet tasty nutrient packs from one of the nearby delivery companies, then got to work:


    The mathematics of orbital dynamics had become surprisingly easy. He knew how well he did in this field, but now¡­ He¡¯d gotten faster. The problems he¡¯d have to think about a bit before were now solved on the spot. Even equations with new concepts were easily solved by reading up a little on the textbooks. He''d gotten much better, and it went beyond him just having a good day or something like that.


    Is this a side effect of the Potentia Panorama?


    He thought about how far he¡¯d progressed in prison. He¡¯d advanced from the middle of the 3rd stance of the Kalvrakian Embrace, all the way to the end of the 8th. This technique, from what he could tell, improved every part of his body. His bones strengthened, his muscle fibers were empowered, and his mind got a little bit clearer after every new stance. If almost everything about him was strengthened, it stood to reason his mind would become better at doing calculations as well.


    Then there was the Battle Soul technique¡­ For all the damage learning it had caused, it had proven remarkably effective at limiting the subconscious brainwashing effect of the alien artifact. But what about the power of the brain itself? Could his Battle soul technique be helping his problem-solving abilities?


    The technique did help him repair his mind¡­ He¡¯d have to study this more closely later. Regardless, he was burning through math equations like no tomorrow, and he couldn¡¯t wait to see how he¡¯d fare in his other subjects.


    "..."


    Turning on the news, Ronin''s surroundings lit up in various holograms showing news anchors, describing, in the pompous false authoritative voice all news casters do, the current happenings of the day:


    [Just in, the recently accused Wing commander Julius denies any involvement with the range of unlawful arrests that have just come to light. With us on the ground is reporter Andrea.]


    The hologram shifted onto a scene of a man dressed in a ruffled uniform, adorned with numerous medals, being dragged out of the planetary guard station by several armored men.


    A blond haired female reporter with a large badge spelling out the word ¡°Press¡±, stood in front of the scene.


    [As you can see, right now, the previously esteemed commander is now being dragged out from his office, towards the shipping station, likely after having been questioned about the recent revelations.]


    The reporter walked up to the bedraggled commander.


    [How do you respond to the recent allegations and what it does to the public trust in the planetary guard? Do you have anything to say for yourself sir?]


    The bedraggled commander looked back at the reporter, his eyes desperate.


    [I didn¡¯t do it! If it''s about those arrests, we all do it! It¡¯s just common practice-]


    The holoscreen abruptly cut back to the newsroom, cutting off and silencing Julius before he could say more...


    [Ahem, it seems we¡¯ve experienced a bit of a technical malfunction there,] one of the news anchors cut in, his eyes rapidly shifting back and forth, likely texting his superiors.


    The other news anchor followed up:


    [You will have to excuse us for that, but while we wait for the technical issue to be solved, let''s discuss the second topic of the day. Now, onto the ruddle menace roaming our city... The employment of flamethrowers has proven remarkably effective against larger swarms. Here we have Mayor Brunstein giving the medal of honor to guardsman Harold.]


    The holoscreen shifted, showing the mayor and a uniformed man standing on a podium in front of thousands of people.


    [It¡¯s reported that Harold not only stood against a swarm of tens of thousands of ruddles, but he also stayed behind after the swarm left, helping civilians, quite the brave individual don¡¯t you think?] The female anchor questioned.


    [Indeed, I sure know I wouldn¡¯t stay around if a horde of those poisonous animals were heading my way¡­]


    Ronin couldn¡¯t help but chuckle darkly.


    Seems this wing commander Julius revealed a little more than he should. Unlawful arrests though¡­ could he have been involved in with what happened to me?


    What had happened to Ronin was an unlawful arrest after all. It might not have felt like it at the time, but he did have an alibi when they shipped him off. They¡¯d also been rather quick about sending him away, no trial, no nothing.


    Beep, Beep, Beep


    His implant signaled an incoming call. Picking up, he was greeted by the bohemian styled room of his uncle. The next instant, he was greeted by a gaunt face with dark circles under his eyes.


    [Did you see Ronin!? We got him! Did you see!? He hid himself well¡­ but I found him. He tried to delete the evidence but now look at him!]


    [What do you mean? Are you talking about that guy in the news? Wing commander Julius?]


    [Yes, Yes, Yes, didn¡¯t you read my message on it?]


    So it was that Julius guy after all, good, hopefully they send him to Exodon.


    [Haven¡¯t found the time yet, got a mountain of homework I¡¯ve got to get through. So¡­It was you?]


    Nagata¡¯s hologram nodded eagerly. [Indeed, found him and what he did to you deep in the planetary guards internal database¡­ though I couldn¡¯t find whoever paid him to go after you-]


    [It was Specter, known as the ghost butcher. Got a guy called Argus working for him as well. Heard of them?]


    Nagata''s face made an abrupt shift, turning grave as he questioned.


    [You''re not joking with me, are you? Don''t tell me you''ve been to district 101?] His tone, now, was completely different.


    [Uh, yeah. That''s how I got the bounty. Don¡¯t worry, I''ll find them all. They¡¯re not getting away with this, I''ll tell you that.]


    Uncle Nagata turned silent, only after a long while, did he finally speak:


    [Ronin¡­ Be careful¡­ I¡¯ve heard of him, true to his name, that man is a demon. Out of everyone out there to anger, for it to be him¡­]


    [What do you know?]


    [Let¡¯s just say that much of the reason no one goes to district 101 is solely due to that one man. It was brutal before, but at least you¡¯d find other shadowy groups going there every now and again. Adventurers would sometimes go there, seeking wealth from the wrong side of the law. You''d also find desperate people there, hiding from debt or persecution. Take the Concordia Liberation Movement for example. From what I¡¯ve heard, they were quite active there some years back. Now though¡­ They don''t go there anymore. They all left due to just a single man. The ghost butcher¡­ That is the type of man you¡¯ve angered. There are plenty of stories... Entire buildings full of people, all just vanishing overnight. It¡¯s horrible. No blood, no shouts in the night, they all just suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from or seen again¡­ One man did that, and nobody knows how. Nobody even knows what he looks like.]


    Nagata shuddered through the holoscreen.


    [What?! They just disappeared? Does he have access to some kind of restricted technology or something?]


    Nagata shrugged. [If he does, I¡¯ve never heard of it.]


    Ronin had always repaid his debts, but this debt might be a little bit too tough to pay back right now.


    [Doesn¡¯t matter how dangerous he is, he put a bounty on me Uncle¡­ But I will be careful, ok? Thanks for the info.]


    Nagata sighed, [alright, I¡¯ll see if I can find some info on Argus. If you want a chance at finding the ghost butcher, your best bet would probably be by finding Argus first.]


    After hanging up, Ronin burned through the rest of the math exercises. As the skies outside turned dark, before calling it quits, he read up on the design studio instruction manual. He''d have to learn how to use the studio sooner or later, might as well learn it now. Besides¡­ if he was going to modify the war suit, why not use the design lab? It was made for ships so a suit shouldn¡¯t be an issue.


    As to how he was going to use Argus to find Specter...


    Perhaps I should check the Potentia Panorama for stealth techniques. If I could place a bug on Argus, he¡¯d lead me straight to Specter- No! Ronin forcibly closed that line of thought. If he looked into stealth techniques, it would be after he fully healed his mind. Argus would have to wait. He wasn¡¯t going to make that mistake again.

 Chapter 18: Suburban debt

    Following a night of sleeping on the metal floor of his spaceship construction factory, Ronin woke up groggily. His back felt sore, and his neck had locked up.


    They say prison hardens a man, but he wasn¡¯t that hard, not by a long shot. He felt like an old man. Stiff, sore and tired. Yeah, he''d be damned if he was going to wake up like that again. He immediately ordered a bed online. Now there¡¯s that debt¡­


    The inmate he¡¯d killed for the breathing apparatus on his first workday on Exodon was named Klepp Tulsi. Though there was a lack of information on what exactly happened to the man''s family after he got locked up, most evidence pointed towards them now living in the slums not too far from their previous apartment.


    After wolfing down a meal, then doing a few warmup exercises, Ronin happily welcomed the arrival of both a new power armor, the Heromaker-99 and a proper bed.


    He put on the armor, walked past the factory¡¯s security system, hailed down a shuttle, then had it take him over to the last seen location of the Tulsi family.


    Scrabby had not found food for two days now. Before, in the dark alleys surrounding his shed, he could compete with the rodents and insects for the odd scrap or nutrient bar, but now? He could not¡­


    The roaming hordes of ruddles ate everything, including naughty children. Scrabby had to be careful, yesterday, they almost broke down the door.


    ¡°Momma, food?¡± he asked hopefully.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry little one, not today. I will look tomorrow, ok?¡±


    Ever since dad was taken, food had been hard to come by. They¡¯d had a whole house before! Momma said it was an apartment, but Scrabby couldn¡¯t spell out the word. His mouth didn¡¯t want to move like that. It was a house to him anyways.


    He laid down.


    When he was hungry, he tried to sleep. If he thought very hard about food, maybe there would be some in his dreams? Maybe, if he dreamt hard enough, there would be some when he woke up later as well?


    ¡°Little one, mommy will have to leave later tonight, ok?¡±


    ¡°¡­ok¡±


    He didn¡¯t like when she left. Not when it was late. She was always so tired when she came back. Many times she had bruises as well, and sometimes she cried. He really hated it when she cried. Was it his fault? Did he eat too much? She always looked so sad and hollow, as if something had been taken from her.


    Knock, knock, knock


    What was that?! Did someone knock on the door? Was it the bad people again? Would they hurt him and his mom again?


    They both kept silent, better if no one thought they were home.


    Knock, knock, knock


    ¡°Is this the house of the Tulsis?¡± A man outside asked.


    Why did he use their last name? Nobody used their last name! Was it not the bad men? Could it be someone else? Someone with food maybe?


    Scrabby looked towards his mom, he could see the same hope in her eyes as well, but she didn¡¯t speak.


    ¡°I''m here because I knew a man named Klepp Tulsi, well¡­ I knew him as Inmate 1437.¡± There was a sigh at the other end of the door.


    What if he really is a good man? If he has food, Scrabby would do anything. He didn¡¯t want to be a burden anymore. He didn¡¯t want to see his mom so sad. Still scared, in a low uncertain voice, he asked.


    ¡°You know daddy, mister?¡±


    ¡°Hehh, I guess you could say that. Is it ok if I open the door?¡±


    Scrabby looked towards his mom. He saw the same fear and hope in her too, but there was something else there as well. She looked at Scrabby with steel in her eyes.


    ¡°Only if you promise not to hurt my son!¡± She said with a shaky but determined voice.


    ¡°Alright, I promise¡±


    The man opened the door.


    What greeted the little family was a young man, clad in bright red armor. The armor was adorned with black and golden flames and the man himself had strange golden eyes. On each side of his face, there were two jagged black scars running down from his forehead, through his eyes, down to where his nose ended. That¡¯s not, however, what caught Scrabby¡¯s attention¡­


    The way he moved, how he scanned the room, his shaking hands. The man seemed to radiate a type of cold lethal energy, as if something, anything could set him off. It was as if he was just about to do something very violent. This was not a nice man. He had the same thing the bad men who broke into their shed before had, only more. Much more.


    His mom drew in a sharp breath in horror. Scrabby had to move every ounce of what little will he had not to curl up into a ball.


    This was a killer.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not here to hurt you¡­I uhh, met your father on Exodon. I made him a promise.¡±


    Scrabby saw the man try to smile, but it just came out wrong.


    ¡°Here, you must be hungry.¡± The man handed out two nutrient packs. One for Scrabby, one for his mom.


    Is he really not here to hurt us?


    ¡°Eat.¡±


    Scrabby didn¡¯t dare disobey, first taking small nibbles to preserve the food for later. That didn¡¯t last long though as he quickly ate the whole bar! The flavor was so good! He just couldn''t stop eating!


    The man scratched his chin, looking awkward. ¡°I have a bit of a medical condition so if you¡¯re scared, it might be because of that.¡±


    Scrabby didn¡¯t care whether or not the man was dangerous anymore. ¡°What can I do for more food? I¡¯ll do anything! I don¡¯t like it when mom''s sad!¡±


    ¡°Uhh, it''s really that bad I see¡­ Tell you what. How about this? I¡¯ll find you two a good place to live. I will pay for the first year, and by then, if you still need help or if there''s anyone bothering you, just call. I¡¯m not planning to stay around forever though, so you will have to become self-sufficient. I plan on leaving this planet soon so you two should find a way to earn credits by yourselves.¡±


    This was too much! What was going on? Scrabby was spellbound.


    ¡°Young sir¡­I mean no offense, but please stop teasing Scrabby, he is still young.¡± His mother said.


    The man frowned. Is he done playing? Will he hurt us now?


    ¡°Scrabby and Elsa was it? Come with me, both of you,¡± the man spoke in an authoritative voice.


    Both Scrabby and his mom shared a glance. He saw it in her eyes, the hopelessness.


    ¡°Mister pl-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this.¡± He interrupted.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to your new home, now! I¡¯m on the clock and I have a favor to repay. Spending hours down here trying to convince you is a waste of time, and frankly, I doubt you¡¯d believe me. Come¡±


    After having hurriedly gathered their things, Scrabby and Elsa left their home scared and flustered.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Outside in the alleyway, Scrabby had to jog just to keep pace with the big man. As they continued on, the multitude of haphazardly made tents and sheds became sparser and sparser.


    So many¡­


    Over half of the tents were broken down. Some had collapsed, maybe because something heavy had walked over? No, many small creatures, he thought, recognizing all the small footprints imprinted into the fabric. Other tents had claw marks and as Scrabby was about to walk over to look into one of the tents openings, his mother stopped him.


    ¡°Why?¡± He asked.


    Elsa simply shook her head.


    ¡°Listen to your mother. You don¡¯t want to see what''s in there.¡± The man agreed.


    ¡°Void, your how old? 6 years? Last thing you need now is witnessing something like that.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    They moved further down the alleyways, turning a new corner every now and again. There were no people outside, but he could see people spying on them from within the sheds.


    ¡°I¡¯ll call down a shuttle once we get out. These alleys are too tight for shuttle taxis, found that out the hard way. Had to jump out mid-flight when coming here.¡±


    ¡°You jumped out of a shuttle?¡± Elsa asked back in confusion.


    ¡°Ah, heh, yeah, this power armors got a jetpack. Though, the driver wasn''t too happy about someone suddenly jumping out of his shuttle. That''s why you don''t tell them before you do it.¡± He chuckled back.


    This man was an enigma. Scrabby couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of him. Nothing about him was normal. He walked and moved like the bad men, talked like a friend and had an amazing suit which could even fly!


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    While Scrabby was still deep in thought, there was a sound. Barely perceptible rumbles and squeaks began emanating from under the alleyway. Then, a series of DUNK, DUNK, DUNK sounds rang out, followed by the rings of rolling manholes.


    The scarred man''s expression changed, abruptly becoming serious.


    ¡°To me!¡± He shouted, unfolding his arms.


    Before Scrabby had time to think, he was embraced along with his mother.


    Gears and hydraulics activated within the armor as servos began moving, shifting and rearranging its various components. Metallic plates, covering the armors surface gave way and small boosters appeared along its arms and legs. Then, the backplates moved as wings grew out from its back.


    ¡°Sorry about this, but prepare yourselves, we¡¯ll be taking a bit of a ride.¡± He heard the man say.


    The power armor bent down, then jumped as the winged jetpack activated and the boosters began firing. Scrabby began rising up from the ground!


    As they started flying further and further up, the narrow passageway below became small. As Scrabby looked over to the side, he could see through the windows of the skyscrapers beside them. There was a family eating inside a tiny apartment, six men standing along the window looking straight back at him and further up, he could see a couple fighting.


    Wow!


    This was incredible!


    Before long, their flight path tilted off to the side, landing on one of the sturdier looking overhangs. As they touched down, the thin metal below them groaned, but fortunately, it held.


    ¡°If you two will excuse me for a moment, I have a bit of a ruddle problem to deal with,¡± the scarred man said, flashing a grin before jumping down again.


    He¡¯s going to fight them? All alone? Nobody can do that!


    Ronin had a sneaking suspicion the reason these ruddles had begun roaming the city in hordes was because of him. He¡¯d been so surprised when he first heard of the large hordes roaming the lower city that he¡¯d written off any connection to himself, but over time, he began connecting the dots.


    There¡¯d never been hordes like that before in the city, ruddles weren¡¯t supposed to group up like that. The only place he¡¯d seen it was in the closed off abandoned part of the city, the place previously shut off due to the leakage of Eisenshaft radiation. The place he¡¯d opened up.


    There were now paths out for the hordes to escape out and onto the wider public. His paths. Just along the valley he¡¯d walked with the mother and son he¡¯d counted over a hundred dead, still rotting inside the collapsed and torn tents they''d lived in.


    BOOM!


    His power armor landed hard back onto the concrete as the sound of his landing was quickly replaced by the increasingly louder cacophony of squeaks.


    I may have created the paths for these rodents to escape, but how was I supposed to know that this would happen? The government covered up the existence of that underground city and The Ghost Butcher pushed me down there by placing a bounty on me. There''s plenty of blame to go around and I''m far from the top of that list.


    As the half a meter large, naked and veiny animals began emerging along the alleyway, he activated the third and final form of his power suit. Gears began turning, his faceguard was lowered, and various support functions started turning on.


    [Combat Mode Activated]


    Boosters emerged along his arms and legs, not for flight this time, but for momentum. The air he breathed became filtered and the armor expanded a little, providing cushioning from impact damage.


    Seems the planned casual test run of the suit, will become a whole lot more than I bargained for, he thought as the dozens of ruddles down the alley turned into hundreds, then thousands. The boosters on his legs activated as he stormed into the forming wall of flesh.


    Squelch!


    The sound of crushed meat sounded out as he smashed into the ruddles, crushing many before his momentum slowed and the cretins began climbing over the suit. His vision disappeared as the ruddles swarmed him, but he wasn''t done yet. There was only him now. Him and the horde.


    Reaching out he grabbed one of the ruddles before slamming it down and crushing it on his knee. Bad idea. His momentary drop in stability gave the horde the room they needed in order to topple him over.


    Crashing down on his back, the swarm viciously clawed their way over him, biting and scratching as they did. He checked his internal display. The suit held up.


    Phew, money well spent


    He tried to move up again, but the sheer weight of all the ruddles on top of him, was too much. His arms barely got a few centimeters off the ground before they got pushed down again.


    Hmm, if sheer mechanical strength is not enough¡­ What about this?


    Acting upon the idea, he activated both the boosters in his arms and his jet pack at the same time. VHOOM! He began sliding backwards across the street. He tried lifting his back while angling his arms towards the ground, letting the boosters lift him. It worked! Not by much, but his previously horizontal position began lifting up. He couldn''t see where he was going, but he felt himself moving faster and faster, crashing harder and harder into the ruddles as he passed them.


    BOOM!


    He violently crashed into a wall, fortunately with ruddles there to cushion the impact. He could now fully angle his arms down towards the ground and with little time to plan, he kicked off the wall, flying upwards as fast as he could. He quickly broke through, giving him his vision back and the scale of the swarm began dawning on him. How can anyone be living in sheds here and expect to survive this? The whole street is flooded! This was an enclosed alley, not the open rooftops of the abandoned city where he''d first seen these swarms. The alleyways funneled the swarm, concentrating it into a pack so dense, no space was unoccupied, and no room was free. He''d seen the rinky-dink shed the Tulsies lived in, just how had they survived? He shelved the thought for later. Now he had to focus on himself. Due to it being illegal, there were no weapons installed on the armor, so, just how was he supposed to fight?


    Well, just rushing the rodents didn¡¯t work.


    The horde, likely over a meter in height, from all the bodies crawling on top of another, covered every inch of the alleyway. This was not something his fists could break alone.


    But I have more than fists, he thought as he continued ascending and when he was about 5 meters above the ground, he turned off the boosters and jet pack. Force = Mass times acceleration, and I have plenty of both.


    Squelch!


    Loud shrieks of dying ruddles rang out as Ronin and the 160 kg heavy power suit crashed heavily into the horde. He activated the jetpack again, flying up while burning vermin along the way. This time he flew 7 meters above the alley before dropping down. With the swarm serving as a cushion, his suit could take it.


    Squelch!


    The mind distorting energy built up inside his body from the alien artifact was getting released with every jump. The feeling was euphoric!


    Not enough! He could go higher! Activating the jet pack again, he rose up, not stopping until he was over 12 meters above the ground.


    Again!


    As he dropped down, however, and began speeding up, he realized he¡¯d maybe out done himself a little too much this time. Crap! I got too cocky!


    With no time to reactivate the jet pack, he slammed into the ground so heavily, he felt the power armor groan. His knees buckled and sharp pain followed, but he¡¯d managed to keep standing. Still, 12 meters was far too much, and his knees did not feel right. The implant aided interface also displayed significant strain on several of the suit''s servos. At least he now knew his new armor''s limits.


    He kept doing the jump squats, this time dialing it down and sticking to at most 10 meters above ground before he made the plunge. As time passed, the pile of ruddle guts kept building up and he noticed the new strategy losing effectiveness.


    Going to need hard ground to really get that good squelch going. I''m not feeling like I¡¯m doing real damage anymore.


    He began moving his jumping spot each time the pile of dead ruddles under him got too tall. Jump after jump, minute after minute, there was a strange type of rhythm to the movement once he got used to it. He became lost in the trance of the repeated jumping. The ruddles couldn¡¯t break through his armor anyways, he wasn''t really in any danger.


    Up and down, up and down, up and¡­-


    BEEP, BEEP


    He checked the interface, only 10% left of the fuel supply. He could still do a few jumps and¡­wait, he still had a debt to repay. Those two were still waiting on the overhang he¡¯d placed them on earlier. If he used up all his fuel, he¡¯d have to go back home for a refill and the mother and son would end up staying there for hours before he got back.


    Shit


    He was still restless; the alien artifact had kept building up energy in his body for weeks now after he learned the battle soul technique.


    Going to have to grind this out the hard way then.


    He steeled himself as he landed for what would probably be his last jump.


    As his vision was once again covered by the hairless veiny rodents, he began grabbing for what he could, squeezing with his hands as the gears and servos worked to squash the vermin. Ronin felt the suit strain to hold back the flood. As he was about to fall over: not again, oh no you don¡¯t! He took a step back, then lowered his position, trying to balance while the swarm stormed over him. There¡­ You can do it Heromaker... like riding a wave buddy¡­riding a wave¡­


    Time passed as he tried to put down whatever mangy beast he could grab, all the while maintaining a very precarious balancing act. This can''t even be considered fighting anymore. It''s more like I''m resisting a force of nature...


    ¡°...¡±


    Ronin, exhausted from the struggle, checked the time: 40 minutes. He¡¯d kept going for so long, he¡¯d spent two thirds of the suit''s battery life. Good thing I didn¡¯t buy the Black Hawk, he sighed, looking over the biological destruction left behind by the horde. The one-hour battery life in sustained combat of the Heromaker model was more than needed, and another model, such as the Black Hawk would have shut down long before it was over.


    He¡¯d barely put a dent into the numbers of the horde as it passed. He¡¯d just been in its way, a nuisance, still, time really flew by when, well, was he having fun? It had at least been exciting if nothing else. He did a casual inspection of his suit: It was dripping with a viscous liquid, and there was more in there than blood¡­ He''d been drenched in poison for sure, probably a range of parasites as well. Ruddles tended to do that.


    As he began wiping off the poison, he looked over the suit''s interface. The jet pack had suffered some minor fractures and there were some damages to the suit''s lower gears and servos. Probably from all the jumping. But besides that? The armor was fine¡­ Well, the paint was scratched, especially the codpiece, the ruddles had seemed quite obsessed with the thing.


    He shivered a little at the thought of what would have happened if he wasn''t armored. ¡°Now¡­ onto the Tulsies,¡± he mumbled, waving up at the pair, stranded up high on the overhang. Surprisingly, Scrabby waved back.


    Flying up to greet the pair, Scrabby¡¯s face lit up in excitement. ¡°Mister, that was incredible! Are you a hero like in the movies!?¡±


    Ronin looked down at the kid, eyes sparkling like they had stars in them. ¡°Hmpf, heroes don¡¯t exist, kid. Listen, there¡¯s a range of reasons as to why I jumped down there to fight those animals, but none of those reasons has anything to do with being a hero.¡± It felt a bit strange to say that, considering the name of his power armor.


    As Scrabby registered what he''d said and the light in the kid''s eyes began dimming, however, he didn¡¯t have the heart to continue.


    ¡°Be good to your mother and when you grow older, I might buy you a power armor just like this one, ok? You can be a hero to your mother. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Really!?¡± Scrabby exclaimed, his little hands shakily balling up in excitement.


    ¡°Sure, now what do you say to us getting out of here?¡±


    Elsa had fortunately warmed up a little to him as well and nodded in agreement.


    Opting out of walking through the now poisonous and parasite filled alleyway, he spent half of his remaining fuel on flying up on one of the taller roofs before calling in a shuttle. Initially not wanting to land on a sketchy rooftop, it took a little convincing and a lot of credits before someone finally came over.


    After boarding the shuttle, they were on their way to the apartment he¡¯d rented for them. The apartment, being located close to his new factory, was maybe not of the highest quality, but it was miles ahead of the shed they''d lived in. It was also located in in a low crime area, far above the deep valleys so commonly associated with the slums. He was sure they¡¯d be more than satisfied with it.


    ¡°What game are you playing? You¡¯re a powerful man, you can do whatever you want with us. Can¡¯t you just be honest?¡± Elsa said, every word dripping with suspicion whilst standing in front of the new apartment.


    ¡°It is just what it looks like, I have a debt to your husband. I know there¡¯s nothing I can say to you that would convince you otherwise, I grew up in the slums myself. When something seems too good to be true, it always is. All I ask is to give it time. As the weeks and months pass by, you will see that it really is just as I''ve said, no strings attached.¡±


    She sighed in resignation and began walking towards the door. Scrabby was about to ask something, but Elsa quickly quieted him down. However, as they walked through the door, the kid quickly turned around, ¡°Just give her time mister, she¡¯ll believe in you!¡±

 Chapter 19: Virtual reality

    [Ironglades, District 101]


    In a luxurious room, filled with guests and hard beating music, sat a bulky man with blond hair. There were politicians here, businessmen of renown, and scientists of high standing. Any casual glance would confirm that this man fit right in. Though a bit bulky, he was dressed in fashionable clothing and had none of the bionic features associated with the criminal world.


    To the more discerning eye however, he was anything but normal. Small scars all over his body spoke of numerous medical procedures. The placement of those scars spoke of one purpose and one purpose alone: lethality.


    Scars along his bones hinted at numerous operations, done in order to enhance his skeletal frame. Under his hair, the scars along his skull implied the implantation of neural enhancers, increasing his reaction speed. Along his neck, faint scars remained from an old endocrine enhancement operation, done to artificially change his body''s chemical balance so as to create a state of hyper awareness when needed.


    The two women on his lap giggled as he moved his hands along their bodies. He would have them tonight, he knew that. He preferred not to pay, even if he was expected to. Status came with all sorts of benefits, including not paying.


    A lustful grin appeared on his face as he thought about how the two girls would react when he would refuse the payment.


    The anger, the indignation, then finally, the resignation as they realized... He had the power.


    When they realized that, he could do whatever he wanted with them and all they could do in response was just to give in and accept their fate.


    In a good mood, he reached for the dope pipe for another puff of fantasia dust.


    ¡°Argus!¡± One of his men called, interrupting his musings.


    ¡°What is it¡­¡± Argus complained, putting down the pipe. They wouldn¡¯t interrupt him like this if it wasn¡¯t important.


    ¡°You know that kid, Ronin¡­ He¡¯s out.¡±


    A hologram of a boy with two lightning shaped facial scars appeared on his mixing table, displaying information on anything from the boy''s past, his achievements, to even his facial tics.


    ¡°Apparently he¡¯s important to some people.¡± The man continued, pointing towards the relevant section along the hologram.


    Argus scratched his chin. ¡°After getting him out of Exodon, they even sacrificed Wing Commander Julius for him¡­¡± He mumbled, glancing over the report.


    ¡°Where is he now? Anyone still willing to take the bounty?¡±


    ¡°No one that matters, apparently he¡¯s working for a respectable company now too.¡± The man said. Swiping up another hologram displaying the Maximus Solutions spaceship factory.


    Specter will not be happy about this¡­Argus inwardly grumbled.


    ¡°Triple the bounty, that should at least bring in some of the big players,¡± he said, his face twisting into a look of annoyance.


    This kid was turning out to be more of a cockroach than he¡¯d thought. Even paying off the planetary guard hadn¡¯t helped!


    ¡°I think you forgot something,¡± one of the women said seductively, attempting to hand him the dope pipe.


    He pushed her off him and she crashed onto the ground. ¡°Damn harlot, learn to read the room,¡± he grumbled.


    As the other girl quickly scurried away. He gave his subordinate a hard look. ¡°Send our guest''s home. I have a call to make.¡±


    ¡°As you can see, the fluid is very viscous.¡± The liaison said as the gaming capsule was being filled.


    ¡°And this liquid actually has all the nutrients the body needs? I won¡¯t even have to eat while I''m in this?¡± Ronin questioned back. Despite having read about this on the ¡°Real-world-gaming¡± website earlier, he still found it hard to believe.


    ¡°Indeed, your body will passively absorb almost everything it needs through skin contact. Though cough, certain nutrients will need a bit more of an active approach.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Well, the nanites in the fluid, does more than facilitate the man-machine connection. In addition to letting you interface with the game world, they also help transfer some of the nutrients properly into your body.¡±


    ¡°So those small machines will have to travel into my body as well?!¡±


    Ronin was not liking where this was going!


    ¡°Where do they go? Do they travel into my brain as well? Is that why the neural resonance affinity of this chamber is so high?¡±


    ¡°No no, I assure you, they only travel into the areas in your body responsible for absorbing and processing critical nutrients. They do not travel into the brain,¡± the liaison hastily defended. ¡°The reason this product gives such an immersive experience within the game world is how closely the chamber simulates what''s happening to you within the game.¡±


    The company liaison pointed towards the gravitic generator. ¡°For instance, the action of jumping, falling and crashing is well simulated by this device here. The difficulty you¡¯d feel breathing while running in the game is simulated with the cardio breather, which is also the thing that makes it possible for you to breathe when fully submerged in the chamber. Now, if you would just sign these papers, confirming you¡¯ve received and confirmed the product-¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright, I''ll sign it,¡± Ronin said, pinging his implant, then sending over his unique signature.


    The way he saw it, he didn¡¯t have much of a choice when it came to this machine.


    He was desperate. The alien energy kept on building up inside his body, not only altering his own subconsciousness, but also causing anything from his blood pressure to his cell division rate to increase. The only way he¡¯d found to decrease the buildup of that energy was to fight, where the more dangerous the fight was, the better.


    If he could use modern technology to essentially create himself a shortcut, where he''d only have to play games in order to reduce that energy? He¡¯d take it in a heartbeat.


    He thought back on what Dr. Leyana Firnesse had said¡­


    ¡°Who knows what might happen if these values continue to increase! You could even suddenly explode! Imagine that! BOOM!¡°


    ¡­Yeah¡­ I¡¯d take nanites in my brain anytime over something like that.


    ¡°...¡±


    As the fluid fully filled the tank, the liaison helped him through the instruction manual: ¡°After setting up your account, you only have to put on the cardio breather then jump into the chamber.¡±


    ¡°I understand, but why does the machine only allow you to experience 50% of the pain you¡¯d feel in real life?¡± Ronin questioned.


    ¡°That¡¯s of course due to the danger it poses to the user. Imagine dying in the game. The overwhelming pain you¡¯d feel would not only severely corrode your psyche, but it can also damage the brain as well. Besides, who in their right mind would want to feel 100% of the pain they¡¯d feel in real life anyways?¡±


    ¡°Is there any way to change that and set the maximum degree of pain felt to 100%?¡±


    The liaison was stunned. ¡°Don-, don¡¯t tell me you really would want something like that!?¡± He stammered.


    ¡°Just tell me. Is it possible or not?¡±


    Ronin had to know. The only reason he¡¯d bought this thing was to deal with the alien energy. If 50% of the pain he''d feel in reality was not enough, he needed the option of turning the pain settings all the way up to 100%, regardless of the danger. The alien energy had already indirectly ended him up in prison and led to his apartment blowing up, and that was only the beginning of what might happen if he continued on as before.


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s illegal to do so but there is a safety filter we¡¯re required to install on all of our machines. The technology base these VR-capsules are built on, naturally has the user feel 100% of all sensations. We install devices deliberately to mute this aspect due to the danger-¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s the safety filter for this chamber?¡± Ronin cut him off.


    Initially a little hesitant, the liaison eventually began instructing him on where the filter was and how to remove it.


    ¡°You understand that you could die if you do this, right?"


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I get it," Ronin said, nodding his head, fully focused on the filter removal process.


    The real-world-gaming liaison furrowed his brows, then shook his head. It was none of his concern anyways.


    ¡°...¡±


    After the liaison left, Ronin stood in front of the VR-chamber, just looking at it. He wasn¡¯t the type of person to feel nervous over what he could control. Be it jumping from tall heights, balancing along beams or climbing steep walls. If he slipped and ended up injured, it was all on him. Giving himself completely over to technology like this, however, was different.


    Enough! He steeled himself, put on the cardio breather and took the plunge.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    As he began sinking into the liquid, nanites began swimming up to, into, then under his hair, finally settling along the top of his head.


    Soon, his whole head was covered, and he heard a voice seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at once:


    [Initializing integration¡­ 3¡­2¡­1]


    His surroundings began changing as the liquid around him turned into a carpeted stone floor, akin to something from the pre-interstellar era. Walls and corridors of stone rose up, then windows appeared, showing a flowing green meadow outside. Finally, a red velvet chair emerged from the floor, right next to a lit fireplace.


    He walked over to the chair, feeling the cozy increase in temperature from the fire as he approached.


    He sat down and a dark blue screen appeared in front of him.


    ¡°Mmm, so this is how it works¡­¡±


    [Welcome new user. Please set new username:]


    He thought it over. ¡°Inevitability,¡± he said. It fit. Both in terms of what was happening to him, as well as what he hoped for his confidence in spite of it to be.


    [Congratulations user! Name has been set. Access to shop granted.]


    A range of games began appearing. From games with dragons and magic, games with starships and laser-fire, to games with outdated projectile weapons, set to a backdrop of dark gothic corridors.


    He chose none of those.


    [Purchase ¡°Glory in the Arena¡± for 500 000 credits? Yes/no]


    ¡°Yes¡±


    This was a pure combat game. You could either pick battles involving weapons and shields or pure bare-knuckle fights where your only weapon was your own body. It had one of the highest ratings for accurately simulating the real world and should work perfectly for what he had in mind.


    He entered the game and picked the bare-knuckles mode.


    ¡°...¡±


    Around him, the castle disappeared, the red velvet chair sank into the ground as the stone tiled floor turned to sand. Around him, large monoliths began rising up. In between them, a stadium began rising, as a new darker voice began announcing:


    [Player now in queue, ranked matchmaking now in progress¡­ Match found! Enter match now?]


    ¡°Yes,¡± he answered in nervous anticipation. The smell of sweat and blood tickled his nostrils as he felt the heat from the mid-sky sun. He looked down at his hands and wrists, now bound tightly in place with hand wrap, as another person began spawning into the arena.


    The other man waved at him as the voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once counted down:


    [4. 3. 2. 1¡­ Combatants fight!]


    As the timer reached zero, they both ran towards the other.


    I guess I¡¯m moving at what the game deems normal human speed now, Ronin thought as he noticed the slow speed of his virtual body.


    His reaction speed, however, was still as fast as in the real world. He easily dodged the wild haymaker the other man threw, letting it easily slide past him as he threw a counter straight into the man''s chin.


    As the man wobbled, Ronin seized the initiative, pummeling the man two more times before his guard went up and a knee strike forced him away.


    As Ronin moved in again, the slower speed of his virtual body started becoming a problem. His mind moved before his body did and one of his strikes missed.


    As he was grabbed, thrown to the ground then pinned in a leg lock, Ronin could see everything as if it was happening in slow motion. Nevertheless, he was powerless to stop it as the man held his leg tight, squeezing it back harder and harder. At this rate, my knee will snap!


    ¡°I yield, I yield!¡± Ronin shouted, and the match was over.


    [Defeat!]


    ¡°...¡±


    Back in the lobby, he immediately rejoined the matchmaking queue. The next match ended just the same. He had a clear advantage in the beginning, but eventually lost later due to a grappling move.


    This time he was beaten by an arm, locked around his neck, choking him until he eventually passed out.


    Ronin continued queuing up, but despite getting accustomed to the slower virtual body, he kept losing. Out of a total of 11 matches, he¡¯d only won twice.


    What is going on¡­?


    He was used to being faster, stronger, better, and his fighting style reflected that, but here¡­ his physique was just like anyone else¡¯s.


    Still, that shouldn''t be enough for him to be losing so badly¡­


    Sitting down, he began thinking. My faster reaction speed should make this a walk in the park, furthermore, I have superhuman instincts compared to baseline humans¡­


    Then realization struck him! My own instincts are working against me!


    You didn¡¯t react to a grapple like you did a punch. It didn¡¯t operate on instincts like a punch did, it was counterintuitive. Any animal could dodge a fast-moving projectile, but the holds, leverage, endurance and positioning of grappling was more akin to a chess match than a traditional fight.


    His instincts, even alien enhanced as they were, were not adapted to this style of fighting. He was essentially competing in a metaphorical chess match, all the while knowing nothing about the actual chess pieces.


    Be it his maladapted instincts or his lack of knowledge, the only way to fix this was by gaining experience.


    It was time to huddle up, buckle down and begin the grind.


    ¡°...¡±


    He continued queuing up, not to win anymore, but to learn.


    He no longer tried avoiding takedowns and grapples, he sought them instead.


    From losing after at most a couple minutes of fighting, he now lost in only a few seconds, but he was learning.


    Every move his opponents made, he memorized, every mistake he made while trying to defend himself, as well as every success, he took note of. Everything was stored and organized in his mind palace.


    As he began to adapt, each new opponent had a new way to deal with him. But¡­ there was only so many moves out there¡­


    Slowly but surely, he was making progress. By the time he was on his 100th match, the few seconds it took to make him tap out, had turned into half a minute.


    By the 200th match, he sometimes held out for as long as a minute and after 300 matches, he even won every now and again.


    ¡°...¡±


    Leaning back with his legs over the opponent''s torso and an outstretched arm firmly gripped in his hands, he laughed in triumph as the opponent tapped out.


    This feeling was incredible, he was finally starting to get it!


    By the time he finished his 500th match, he¡¯d stacked up 70 victories, of which, 68 were won purely through grappling. Being at the bottom of the rankings, the only players he matched with were the worst of the worst.


    That is to say, it didn¡¯t matter how they wanted to fight, since Ronin was better at striking and had faster reflexes, if he wanted to grapple, they had to grapple as well.


    If they didn¡¯t take the initiative, he knocked them down to the ground, then lunged down into the sand after them.


    ¡°...¡±


    After another victory, he checked the time: I¡¯ve already spent 7 hours in this place?! No wonder virtual reality is seen as so addictive.


    Logging out, he slowly opened his eyes as he emerged back in reality. The thick viscous liquid was all around him as he felt the cardio breather around his face. He floated slowly up to the surface then crawled out of the chamber. His entire body felt beat up.


    As the viscous liquid dripped off his body, then recirculated back into the chamber through the newly installed grates below him, he closed his eyes and felt for a reduction in the alien energy within his body.


    There''s been almost no change at all! Out of the amount I''ve built up these past few weeks, at most, about 2% of it is gone¡­ If it has decreased at all, it''s by so little that I might as well not do this at all! He thought.


    Besides fighting, every single thing he¡¯d tried before simply slowed the energy increase. This might decrease the amount of alien energy within him, but 2% was not enough. At this rate he¡¯d have to spend most of his time gaming instead of working. There''s no way he¡¯d become a spaceship designer like this.


    Fuck it


    His body felt beat up, but what of it!? He hadn¡¯t bought this machine to have fun, he¡¯d bought it to survive! Between giving up on his dream and dying by having his own body explode, he chose neither.


    He found the place described by the ¡®real-world-gaming¡¯ liaison and removed the pain limiter from the VR-chamber.


    Steeling himself, he dragged himself back into the chamber.


    ¡°...¡±


    [Player now in queue, ranked matchmaking now in progress¡­ Match found! Enter match now?]


    The implications behind the question, now, held a very different meaning.


    He could really die now¡­


    ¡°Yes,¡± he answered shakily, failing to keep his nervousness at bay.


    As he spawned into the arena, the smell, the hot wind and his sight, now felt so real, it was almost impossible to distinguish from reality.


    As the opponent spawned in as well, the countdown began.


    [4. 3. 2. 1¡­ Combatants fight!]


    As they closed in on each other, the man threw a punch, but to Ronin''s surprise, the punch slowed down.


    The near-death sight!


    It hadn¡¯t worked before, but now with nothing limiting his senses, the technique from the Potentia Panorama had activated!


    Leaning on one foot, Ronin let the punch slip by and with calculated precision advanced forward. Quickly grabbing the man''s head, he then kicked a knee deeply into his stomach.


    As the man tried to distance himself, Ronin swept the man off his feet with a low kick, before mounting him. It was time for the ground and pound. This guy never stood a chance.


    His earlier 7 hours of nonstop practice were showing their worth and considering the fact that Ronin was no longer focusing on grappling as much, let¡¯s just say it was time to put some victories under his belt.


    ¡°...¡±


    Time passed and hours later, Ronin finally dragged himself back out of the VR-chamber. His body felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Every part of it was sore and he barely had the strength to walk. His head felt soar as well, which was a little more worrying, considering the danger of removing the pain limiter from the gaming capsule.


    The first time he died in the game, he¡¯d been terrified. It had felt so real¡­ But he woke up again. Alive. The second time had been a little easier and by the third, most of his initial fear was gone. As he continued dying however, his head had begun hurting. It only became worse the more he died and eventually it had gotten so bad he had to disconnect from the game.


    Nevertheless, Ronin knew he healed fast, and the results spoke for themselves. He¡¯d only spent 3 hours in the game this time and all of the residual energy built up inside his body was now gone.


    He felt as if a great weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.


    It worked, it really worked¡­


    He''d been worrying and despairing over the buildup of that damn alien energy for almost two months now and just like that¡­ he was free!


    To top it off, his near-death-sight was improving with every fight as well.


    Hmm, in the beginning, my perceived time sped up by about 2 times that of real time when fighting¡­ now though? 3 times? No, maybe more. Time moves so slowly when fighting now that it might actually work¡­


    To access his mind palace mid-fight and find the optimal response to every move his opponent made had been all but a pipedream before, now though, he might actually be able to do it!


    He sat down beside the VR-chamber and closed his eyes.


    While letting his body rest and heal, he began repairing his mental palace.


    What is this?


    His battle soul technique had changed. The vague images outside the palace now had new additions. They were even less clear than the other images, but he could faintly make out images of figures grappling.


    He shook at the implication!


    The battle soul, in a way, represented his mind and now he could change it. He could literally do anything in VR. What if he could transform the battle soul technique, and by extension, the Potentia Panorama to serve him, instead of the will of the one who made it? This might very well be his first step in changing the legacy!

 Chapter 20: Transformed employee

    From report on human corruption, by Benedict Aufstar, Professor of economics: ¡°- As a consequence of the booming economic and political corruption, resulting from the never-ending expansion of humanity, several cultural norms emerged as a result. Assassinations became common, leading to more and more resources being spent on defense. Case and point, here''s an interview with the CEO of Universal Genetics, Greg Pentecost:


    ¡°Self-defense you say? HAH! Of our annual net revenue, at least 40% is spent on defense in one form or another. Anything from having to invest into cyber security in order to avoid patent theft, buying battlecruisers in order to protect our shipping lines or installing planetary defense level armaments in order to protect our facilities, we spend so much on defense, we might as well be called a private military company at this point. Want to know what our company actually does? We produce and ship food, but after moving this close to the frontier, I no longer recognize my own company.¡±


    In the dark of night, three figures hid behind a corner, discussing:


    ¡°I¡¯m getting a bad feeling about this,¡± one of the men nervously commented.


    ¡°How many times have I been wrong about something like this?¡± The female in the group excitedly asked.


    ¡°Still, there¡¯s a reason the bounty is 3 million credits. Look at that building! There are still guards patrolling it, and it''s in the middle of the night!¡± The man said back.


    ¡°We¡¯ve already scouted the place plenty, let''s just sneak past the guards, get in, kill the kid, then bolt. Why are you getting cold feet Daktan?¡± The third man whispered, visibly annoyed at the hesitant man.


    Finally, the man nodded, and they began stealthily moving towards the factory.


    ¡°...¡±


    They approached the first fence and began cutting it open.


    Unbeknownst to them however, the act of touching the fence, caused small turrets to begin silently rising from the ground around them¡­


    They continued on ahead, silently reaching the second fence.


    ¡°Told you it was going to be easy,¡± The woman began.


    ¡°-Shhh!¡± The third man cut in.


    ¡°Do you hear that?¡±


    As they sharpened their ears, faint sounds akin to whirling metal could be heard from behind them.


    ¡°Was that sound always there?¡± The woman asked, placing her hand on the fence.


    However, the second the hand touched the fence, blinding torchlights illuminated the trio as lasers began firing from behind.


    A booming alarm began ringing out from the factory as even heavier armaments began rising up from up ahead.


    The woman didn¡¯t even have time to scream as the fence became electrified and an overwhelming current flooded her body, knocking her unconscious.


    "How!? No one said anything about turrets -Argh!" The third man shouted, as a laser shot blasted into his arm.


    "We need to get o-" the hesitant man began, but before he could finish, a burning hot beam pierced through his head, scorching out a hole the size of a thumb as it exited out on the other side.


    Amidst the overwhelming barrage of laser fire, guards, some of which were hidden before, began surrounding the trio, but it was pointless at this point...


    This facility was equipped to fight military grade forces, not upstart assassins...


    The trio was already long dead, lying lifelessly down on the concrete.


    The heavier armaments hadn''t even had the chance to fire before they fell.


    Ronin was abruptly awoken in the middle of the night.


    He''d quickly searched for his security guards. There was a booming alarm blasting his ears out and he needed an answer.


    You could say he''d been quite surprised when his security informed him of the attempted break-in.


    They''d first assumed the trio to be thieves due to how under geared they were... Then they¡¯d found the missive... and the weapons.


    Everyone, his security included, had been baffled at that point.


    Who in their right mind would attack a factory with bolt cutters and laser pistols?


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Regarding more important matters though, Ronin had made great progress.


    There was a mountain of work to do, but with his improved mind, he swiftly burned through his academy exercises.


    As time passed, his sore muscles also recovered quickly, though his head still felt sore.


    Regardless, with the battle soul technique, Ronin could now go on for days without having to worry about the energy from the alien artifact affecting his mind.


    No longer having to worry about his own mind left plenty of time to catch up on schoolwork.


    As for spaceship construction itself, he¡¯d bought the design of a cheap and outdated shuttle model, the Hemsway-D8.


    It probably wasn''t something he''d be able to sell, but the design was more than enough to practice with.


    He looked over at the ship as it stood there, right beside the assembler, partially constructed.


    He¡¯d spent days figuring out how to print the components, then double checked each part with a multiscanner, making sure that everything came out right.


    The ship was one of the smallest shuttle editions out there, only 3 meters long and 2 meters wide. Still, figuring out how to use the factory assembler alone had taken hours, and it would likely take hundreds of hours more before he fully mastered it.


    Fortunately, I didn¡¯t have to use the alloy compressor this time, Ronin inwardly sighed in relief.


    Assembling the shuttle couldn''t purely be done by the factory assembler. There were specific welds that had to be done by hand which the assembler simply wasn¡¯t built for. Wiring could also get very delicate, making it practically impossible to do without highly specialized tools which had to be worked by hand.


    Further, as he continued working on the shuttle, he noticed another feature. He could tune it. He could increase fuel efficiency, but its maximum speed would be reduced. He could enhance its steering sensitivity, but the machine''s robustness would decline as a result.


    All of this was of course way outside of his comfort zone at the moment. He was struggling just with putting the thing together, forget about optimizing it! But, as he learned more, he did notice the different design solutions used in making this thing.


    There was a rhythm to the design, the materials picked, the workarounds chosen, the positioning of the wires etc. Every decision made when designing this ship gave the final design a distinct character.


    Feels like the designers of this ship wanted safety, but why would they skimp out on the internal dampeners... It''s almost as if they wanted a little danger mixed in as well when they designed it, Ronin thought as he looked over the ship''s blueprint.


    Much like when he grappled opponents in ¡°Glory in the Arena¡±, spaceship design was like a puzzle with many different solutions.


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    The path you picked ¡°flavored¡± the design and the sheer range in different types of alloys and parts out there, gave an almost infinite variety of possibilities on how to put a ship together.


    He began operating the assembler, moving the assemblers'' arms towards a certain part of the ship''s combustion engine.


    PING!


    He got a notification on his implant.


    Hmm, so it''s time already.


    After over a month away, it was time to return.


    He stuffed the academy uniform into a bag, then put on his much safer Heromaker suit.


    Calling down a shuttle, he entered it and was met by a couple of raised eyebrows as the shuttle driver noticed his armor.


    "Ehem, Sir, where to?" The driver asked, trying and failing not to stare at the golden codpiece.


    "Ironglades Spaceforce Academy, and yes I know its golden and sticks out, but I would appreciate it if you didn''t glare at it like that."


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As Ronin sat down and glanced out the window, the shuttle lifted off the ground and began swiftly traveling across the city.


    After a short 15-minute ride, the shuttle landed, and a self-conscious Ronin walked out onto the academy plateau.


    However, just as he had begun walking towards the hangar, a voice rang out behind him:


    ¡°Long time no see Mr. Maximus. It must have been quite the business trip,¡± the smooth and deep voice spoke.


    Who?


    Ronin didn¡¯t recognize the voice. Turning around, he saw Simons.


    Startled, he began looking around. Although a bit sudden, it was nice seeing Simons again, but where did that other voice come from?


    ¡°Sir, are you ok? Your eyes are flickering around like crazy¡­¡±


    Ronin did a double take. There it was again! That deep voice.


    What¡¯s this? I think it emerged as Simons moved his mouth! Could it really be?


    ¡°Yeah, it was quite the trip, but it¡¯s good to be back. We¡¯re also going to be working together in a few days, and I¡¯ve already got some ideas on what our first collaborative design should be. I can¡¯t wait to get started!¡± Ronin said, his eyes now squarely fixed on Simons lips.


    ¡°Indeed, I¡¯ve got some thoughts on this as well- ¡°Simons began.


    Ronin was now certain. It was Simons!


    ¡°Before any of that, I¡¯ve noticed some changes in your speech, how did that come about?¡± Ronin broke in. He had to know.


    ¡°Oh, you noticed- ¡°


    Noticed? You¡¯ve suddenly developed the voice of an angel! How could I not notice? I even doubted it was you!


    ¡°The contract for working at Maximus Solutions stated that it required the employees to have the ability to communicate clearly. I¡¯m not the type of man who will gamble on whether or not I get to keep my job. From voice coaches, to liposuction, I did whatever it took to maximize the clarity of my voice. I guess you could call it a maximus solution so to speak.¡± Simons said, chuckling at his own joke.


    Liposuction? Ah, now I see it.


    The bulging neck, which was earlier fused seamlessly into the rotund body, was now gone. The neck was now about the same size as Ronin''s own neck, which on Simons, did not fit at all!


    Ignoring Simons strange new look, Ronin chuckled along, walked up to his new employee and slapped him on the shoulder.


    ¡°A Maximus Solution indeed! Now before we start working, how about a little team building before the big day? We should celebrate our employment after all!¡±


    ¡°Team building?¡± Simons questioned, a little skeptical.


    ¡°Listen, I''m thinking we eat out, a fancy restaurant, a full buffet! No limits, where we eat and drink to our heart''s content on the company¡¯s bill!¡± Ronin grinned back at him.


    ¡°Well, I guess I could set aside some time-¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± Ronin laughed back.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    They continued chatting as they made their way towards the hangar, but before they arrived, every single person on campus seemed to suddenly stop.


    One by one they began staring at the incoming vehicle. Ronin and Simons looked up as well.


    It was a beautiful shuttle, not meant for commuting, it looked more like a carefully crafted machine of power, built for arenas that pushed both pilot and machine to the limit. A racing shuttle maybe? Or a pit fighter?


    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Ronin asked in wonder.


    ¡°You really don¡¯t know? You really do live under a rock!¡±


    Ronin grumbled in response.


    After a short silence Simons spoke again:


    ¡°Cadet Haraken. That¡¯s his name¡­ He¡¯s said to be an unrivaled genius, only seen once a century.¡±


    The shuttle landed as students began swarming around it, forming a crowd.


    As a red-haired boy walked out of the vehicle, several campus guards ran up beside him, holding back the excited mass of people.


    Men were shouting for an autograph and girls were blushing as he moved along. It had to be at least a couple of hundred people circling him as he walked.


    ¡°He could have graduated by now, but the academy held him back. He¡¯s only been here for a year but he''s already better than most graduates.¡± Simons commented as they watched the spectacle.


    ¡°The pilot program?¡± Ronin asked.


    Ship designers earned esteem and renown, but they weren¡¯t treated like idols. Not like that.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Simons nodded as the red-haired youth waved his hand and a wave of shrieks from the girls in the crowd followed.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Today we¡¯ll be working on air lock configuration,¡± professor Raverus Ravent said as the class began their 4th practical this year. Ronin had missed two exercises, but he¡¯d gotten a message from the academy on how to rectify it a few days back.


    As they began working, Ronin teamed up with Simons and it didn¡¯t take long before they got into the groove of things.


    Many had been ambushed by the difficulty of the first exercise, something the whole class had corrected for while Ronin was gone.


    Ronin and Simons quickly got the air seals working properly but the electronics on one of the airlocks took some extra work. Anastasia, as always, was the first to finish, raking in the extra points in the course.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Before the 5-hour mark, everyone was done and the class started leaving the hangar.


    ¡°Mr. Maximus, you will need to stay behind,¡± Professor Ravent said as Ronin was about to leave.


    One of the students snorted in response:


    ¡°Serves him right, it was bad before when he never showed up in class, but at least he showed up for the practicals. Now? The slum rat is even skipping those.¡±


    The haughty student wasn¡¯t alone in his sentiment. Ronin saw several other students agreeing with him.


    Apparently, Ronin Maximus wasn''t very popular with the class.


    He brushed it off. They knew nothing of his circumstances. If they were going to act like that, they could forget about getting employed in his company in the future. Their loss.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    After the last few students left, Raverus Ravent pulled out an electric brush, adjusting his hair and mustache before proceeding further to pull out yet another, new brush, which he started using to brush his uniform. After he was done, he began pulling out a disinfectant bottle, but Ronin quickly broke in before he could begin using it:


    ¡°Professor, I assume you held me back to catch up on the exercises I missed while in prison?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but also, not quite,¡± Mr. Ravent said in his usual monotone voice.


    Pointing towards Ronin, he continued.


    ¡°You have to remember, you¡¯ve been signed into the genius track now, meaning, you¡¯ve got double the workload... For now... We might increase it later if you can handle it.¡±


    I can get even more work? Ronin''s eyes shot up.


    They must be pushing ¡°geniuses¡± as hard as possible in order to maximize their chances of moving up towards higher systems.


    ¡°Double the normal amount of work is more than enough,¡± he said hastily. With the company and the Potentia Panorama, he had more than enough to do at the moment. The last thing he needed now was more work.


    ¡°Anyways, you¡¯ll be doing an extra exercise with me here after the normal ones from now on. And, sorry for keeping your new status in the academy secret. None of your fellow students know you''re currently in the genius program and we¡¯d like to keep it that way.¡±


    ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m actually kind of grateful for that¡­ There¡¯s a lot of heat on me as it is,¡± Ronin sighed back.


    ¡°The bounty?¡± Ravent asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°We here at the academy can actually help with that.¡±


    "Really? How?"


    In answer to the question, the professor''s eyes began moving, working on something with his implant before making a slight swiping motion with his right hand.


    Ronin''s implant pinged, indicating a new message.


    As he opened it, he noticed:


    A contract?!


    Reading further down, he quickly became discouraged. He¡¯d have to give away any and all ownership and intellectual property to the academy for the next 10 years. In addition, the academy even had the right to dictate his life, down to what he was allowed to eat from now on.


    ¡°This is a slave contract. I can¡¯t take this,¡± Ronin said, shaking his head.


    Raverus Ravent simply nodded, giving no indication to whether or not he was happy with the decision.


    Without missing a beat, Ravent began the practical: ¡°Today we¡¯ll be working on heat transfer systems. Getting rid of heat in space has always been a bit of an annoyance in spaceship design, now, let''s start off easy and install a couple of radiators-¡±

 Chapter 21: Shedding the mortal coil

    Following the calendar of old, in the year 1889 Anno Domini, in the German city of Freiburg, there was an attempt to distill the organosulfur compound, Thioacetone. This attempt was followed by instances of nausea, vomiting and unconsciousness from over 700 meters away from the laboratory due to the smell released during the distillation process. From the few remaining witness testimonies still available on record, one word resonates more than any others. Unanimously, every single individual who has come in contact with the smell, has described it as... Fearful. Later records indicate that many attempts have been made in order to protect researchers from the smell, but those willing and able to deal with the chemical, quickly found themselves cast out from social circles due to how badly anyone around them reacted to the remnant odor. - Unknown historian, Compendium on olfactory terrorism.


    Ronin exited the VR chamber. Playing with no pain limiter had not only helped get rid of the insidious energy from the alien artifact, it also helped him learn quicker. He was now winning over 90% of his matches and was steadily making his way towards the silver league.


    The funny thing was, he wasn¡¯t even trying to win. His main focus was still on learning how to fight, copying the moves and style of every opponent as he fought.


    Feeling good, he immediately did some Kalvrakian Embrace stances, pushing his body as his breath harmonized with his being.


    Mmmm, I can get used to this, he thought as he smoothly pushed himself from one stance to another.


    He felt some strain during the 8th stance, but it wasn¡¯t much.


    He could do it.


    In his mind''s eye, plants began growing up from the ground and the fragrance of nature tickled his nose as he reached towards the end of the 8th stance, then pushing further, he finally locked in the 9th.


    Ah, there we go. I''ve been waiting for this!


    He closed his eyes, waiting for the old familiar rush of power that always followed each new stance, but it didn¡¯t come¡­


    ¡°Eh? what!?¡± He scrunched his nose in annoyance. ¡°Well, that''s a bummer!¡± He spoke aloud, alone in the huge open factory.


    But some things did happen to his body...


    Instead of experiencing an increase in visual clarity, there was now the every now and again abrupt muscle twitch, ruining his work on the spaceship assembler.


    Where there was supposed to be an increase in strength, there was now instead, the odd loud joint pop whenever he exerted himself.


    Nevertheless, he had work to do. There was a party waiting for him later today after all. Not only was Simons coming, but he¡¯d also invited Uncle Nagata as well as the Tulsi family he''d sort of forcibly dragged out of the slums.


    Even Speck was coming!


    After Speck had so graciously offered a glass of water a couple of months back as Ronin was making his way towards Nagata, Ronin figured that inviting him to dinner was the least he could do.


    He quickly burned through the mandatory homework for each of the courses, then once again tried working the assembler.


    He did get some work done, at least the engine in the Hemsway-D8 seemed to function properly now, but damn, the joint popping and muscle twitching did not make it easy.


    He checked the time... If he left right now, he should be able to just about make it to the Happy Pearl restaurant before his reservation period began. Yeah, time for the company to finally do some team building!


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Caramelized unitarian Lion from the edge of Lobar, served with Hegelian bruschetta and deep-fried onions.¡± The waiter graciously said as he served the latest dish. It was not the first and certainly not the last dish they would eat tonight.


    As his glass was refilled with wine, locally brewed from planet Hartheim, Speck continued on, in the middle of a story:


    ¡°But, honestly, I couldn¡¯t believe it when I heard you¡¯d joined the space force academy buddy.¡±


    Simon''s eyebrows rose in surprise.


    Speck, noticing Simons'' reaction, followed up:


    ¡°What? You really didn''t know!? Listen, back in the day, I think Ronin was about 15 at the time, I saw him jump 4 meters ahead and 5 meters down to reach a construction pole, which he then, mid fall, promptly used to slide down another 15 meters before reaching the ground. You were part of that¡­ what do you call it?¡±


    ¡°Parkour group,¡± Ronin finished.


    ¡°Yeah, but still, that jump was so scary even those guys didn¡¯t do it. Ronin was a maniac back in the day, so when I heard he¡¯d joined the academy as a designer?! Let''s just say I was a little shocked to say the least... I was sure he''d become a stuntman or join up with the planetary guard or something, but the ISFA? No way!¡±


    "I had no idea, he rarely shows up for class, but his work is always on point. Still, that''s sounds insane, I remember back when I was 15, my father barely even let me out of the house," Simons said, eyes wide.


    ¡°Mr. still jumps from a lot of places. He jumped down to fight the ruddles,¡± Scrabby helpfully added.


    ¡°Nephew, you only did those sorts of things because of all that negative energy building up inside of you, you need to free your mind more often,¡± Uncle Nagata followed up.


    ¡°Enough! I already know what "mind-freeing" alternatives you¡¯re thinking about. I''m never doing that again!¡± Ronin barked back at his uncle.


    He was never taking atom spice again. Ever.


    ¡°By the way,¡± Simons commented, taking a sip of wine. ¡°Why are you wearing a power suit in the middle of a fancy restaurant?¡±


    ¡°Got a bounty,¡± Ronin grumbled back.


    Speck''s eyes lit up. ¡°Bounty!? Look at that, he¡¯s all grown up and I wasn''t even there to see it.¡±


    ¡°Shut it! It''s a big bounty, ok?¡± Ronin sullenly bit back, taking a big swig of wine.


    ¡°Anyways, you said the suit had something called a dance routine?¡± Nagata asked mischievously.


    ¡°Dance routine? Like a victory dance after the hero wins!?¡± Little Scrabby followed up, his eyes sparkling.


    ¡°No no-¡± Ronin began, but before he could gain any momentum, the whole table was chanting for him to dance.


    Even the newly angelic voice of Simons joined into the chorus.


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    ¡°Dance, dance, dance!¡±


    As the group began hammering the table in sync, Ronin, realizing he might have gotten a little too tipsy from all the wine, finally gave in.


    ¡°Alright, alright! But only one dance, ok? I¡¯ve never actually tried this before so bear with me here.¡±


    Internally shaking his head, he got up and walked a little off to the side, receiving strange glances from the guests at the other tables.


    Using his Uninet-2000, he pulled up the dance list from his suit, inspecting the various programs.


    Let''s see¡­ ¡°Mr. Me, I¡¯m the machine¡± sounds a little too corny, ¡°Smooth spinner¡± should probably be left for when I''m sober¡­ Oh, here, this one sounds alright.


    Bracing himself for whatever was to come, he activated the program called ¡°Medley¡± and regretted it immediately after.


    The Heromaker suit began playing loud sensual music in the middle of the restaurant as a soft male voice began singing:


    ¡°I¡¯m juicy, I¡¯m candy, I¡¯m a sexy beast, and I feel dandy,¡±


    The suit, now moving on its own, following a preset program, began thrusting its hips back and forth, the golden codpiece jingling a little with each thrust.


    Oh no! I need to end this now! Ronin thought, frantically trying to shut down the dance routine as fast as possible.


    Every single person he¡¯d invited to the party was laughing hysterically.


    ¡°Do you want the golden? The smoothy gold?-¡° The soft male voice sang before it was finally cut off as Ronin found the ¡°forced shutdown¡± button.


    Many of the other guests at the restaurant were also laughing at this point. He even saw one of the waiters chuckling.


    He cursed, that damn codpiece had to go, it simply looked ridiculous! And what was with these dance programs?


    ¡°You sure you don¡¯t have another dance you could try? I was just starting to enjoy this,¡± Elsa said.


    ¡°Void, you too?¡± Ronin said in exasperation as he made his way back to the table.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The buffet continued on as jokes were made and new exotic foods were eaten.


    It was then, just after the 3rd dish following the unitarian lion, that Ronin noticed something being terribly wrong.


    His joints had kept popping and his limbs twitching the entire day.


    He¡¯d been able to mask the twitching with the power armor, but now? It had all just suddenly stopped. Whatever was happening to him however, had not stopped.


    Replacing the twitching and popping, was now an uncomfortable feeling surrounding his abdomen. His stomach began desperately churning and grumbling, promising an ominous trip to the toilet.


    Ronin knew he couldn¡¯t stay and quickly excused himself from the table, rushing quickly towards the nearest lavatory.


    He quickly locked the door behind him as he exited the suit.


    After sitting himself down on the toilet and powerful cramps began rocketing his body, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder:


    Why did everything become so different after the 9th stance? Don¡¯t tell me!?


    He accessed his mental palace, pulling up the information on what he feared might be happening.


    Kalvrakian embrace: With every 8th small step, the warrior reaches the bounds of mortality and in order to proceed, sheds his mortality, structuring his body closer to the image of gods.


    Was this it? Was he shedding his mortality?


    Ronin''s body violently jerked as he began sweating, apparently there would be A LOT of mortality to shed today.


    Nagata Maximus was having the time of his life when he received the message. His latest hacking escapades, as well as not knowing whether his nephew was alive or dead, had left him with bad sleep for over a month. But Ronin was out of Exodon now and all was well, not to mention the food here, which was simply amazing.


    He looked over the message:


    [The money I¡¯ve sent should pay for the buffet. Pay the waiter, then take everyone with you and leave immediately - Ronin]


    Frowning at the cryptic message, he sent a few new messages back and forth with the kid, but most of what he got back was elusive statements on how there was no danger, but that they had to leave the restaurant fast for some reason.


    Grumbling at his unreliable nephew, Nagata made up some excuse, and after a lot of cajoling, was finally able to bring everyone along into the elevator, then outside where he hailed and paid for the shuttles that would bring them home.


    Shortly after Nagata and the rest of the gang left, a man, fully clad in a Heromaker suit was spotted hastily leaving the premises, hailing a shuttle himself as well, though there had seemed to be a lot of arguing with the shuttle driver before he was finally let inside the ship.


    Scrunching his nose, one of the Happy Pearl waiters walked over to one of the restrooms.


    What was that smell? It was very faint, but still, it was absolutely horrendous. He gently pushed on the door, but it wouldn¡¯t budge.


    Putting his back into it, he pushed hard and with a POP! the door snapped open, and the waiter fell unconscious¡­


    The soft background music in the restaurant suddenly got interrupted when the sound of a man falling over rang out, causing several guests to perk up in confusion.


    The confusion over the sound didn¡¯t last long however, as the smell, which had been too weak to notice before, began rising in intensity.


    ¡°What''s this foul odor!? It smells like something died!¡± One of the female guests shouted.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry miss we¡¯re looking into-Uagh!¡± Before the waiter could finish, he jerked into a violent gag reflex.


    The sound of the unwilling gagging rang out as a siren''s call as multiple people, all over the restaurant, also began gagging.


    ¡°What sort of customer service is this?!¡± One man shouted. ¡°This is the most horrible thing I''ve ever!-¡± Before he could finish, the blue-finned Calamara with Lacroxian caviar ended up back on the same table he¡¯d just eaten from, prompting the rest of the people sitting there to also start emptying their stomachs.


    As the pandemonium continued ramping up, an iron blooded soldier in civilian clothing made a snap decision, bolting for the elevator. He¡¯d seen dead men before, smelled the stench of rotting humans as they¡¯d lain for days to fester in the sun. But this... this was worse, he had to get out of here, no matter what!


    ¡°Ooh Void! the smell! The smell!¡± A voice cried out as people all over the restaurant continued passing out. The soldier entered the elevator and pressed whatever button his hand reached first.


    The elevator door began closing just as others started making their way towards him, desperately trying to get out as well.


    Fortunately, the door closed before they reached him, and he soon reached a lingerie clothing store a couple of floors above.


    Exiting the elevator, the soldier quickly ran deep into the store, seeking shelter.


    The particles emanating the foul odor, had, however, followed along the soldier into the elevator. And when the elevator door opened, these particles had begun spreading across the new floor.


    The prim and proper customers, gallivanting along the aisles, elegantly perusing the merchandise, quickly noticed that something was wrong. And as the odor began conquering the new floor, it became clear that if anything, the dilution of the smell only made the smell worse, not better.


    ¡°Help! Help! We need the planetary guard!¡± One of the shoppers screamed as she started running around hysterically, desperately trying to flee the smell.


    This scene repeated itself many times as the few guests still conscious, continued escaping from the Happy Pearl restaurant.


    Floor by floor, people panicked as more and more people started falling over, unconscious. Before long, be it by elevator, or through the skyscrapers ventilation system, the smell filled the entire building and began breaking out and onto the streets.


    In a matter of minutes, the odor had spread far beyond the skyscraper, covering the nearby buildings, be it shopping centers, Ironglades banking services or hotels, the smell didn¡¯t stop before reaching out kilometers away from its origin point.


    But though the odor may have halted its spread along the upper districts, that was not the case further down. Fortunately, or unfortunately, that day, there was a consistent breeze moving air persistently down from the upper districts, into the lower ones, spreading the panic even further.


    As shuttles began crashing and the local area ground to a halt, the planetary guard arrived¡­


    Their arrival was, however, short lived, as they quickly left again, traveling back towards the guard station in order to gather more gas masks.

 Chapter 22: New techniques

    ¡°Ahh, this is the life,¡± Ronin said as he took a deep swig of taste optimized water, then leaned back into a lazy stretch.


    He felt as if he¡¯d lost weight. His movements were smooth, there was a lightness to his step and his range of motion was better than ever.


    Any old remaining injury he''d had was now gone and that included the headache he often felt after practicing in the VR chamber.


    And on that note, his mind felt great as well. After reaching the 9th stance of the Kalvrakian Embrace, most of the cracks to his mind palace had begun rapidly healing. And though his thinking speed remained the same, his mind felt... lighter somehow, more flexible.


    The only remaining issue was the smell¡­ He¡¯d already been in and out of the biorinser over 10 times at this point, but that damn remnant odor just wouldn¡¯t leave.


    Nevertheless, he had a ship to build. He put the micro-spanner back into his mouth and went back into the Hemsway-D8.


    His arms and face grimy from the delicate work, moved with purpose as bolts and screws were fastened, panels aligned, and electrical sockets installed.


    The hours passed and it wasn''t long before the shuttle was finally finished. Ronin, struggling to contain his excitement, did a final round of pre-flight diagnostics. Everything looked good. The ship was ready for a test flight. He ordered the factory bots to move the ship out onto the runway. Trailing shortly behind the ship, he entered the cockpit the moment the bots left.


    Here goes nothing!


    He activated the engine.


    VHOOM!


    The smooth hum of a healthy engine spread out across the runway.


    The initial boot-up seems good, he thought, a hopeful smile emerging on his lips.


    Ronin had long since memorized how to fly this thing. He''d never flown before and didn''t exactly have a license, but this was his machine, he''d built it, and it needed a test pilot.


    He coupled his implant to the flight controls and began pulling back the control stick.


    The freshly built Hemsway began slowly rising from the ground as he monitored the cockpit for any anomalies.


    This is it! I¡¯m actually doing it! I¡¯m actually doing it! Ronin screamed inwardly as the shuttle rose higher and higher.


    As the ship continued climbing, he slowly started pressing down on the gas pedal, and the ship started slowly moving forward.


    Everything seemed to be in order. He leveled the control stick and pressed the pedal down further. The cockpit still showed everything as nominal.


    A wide grin emerged on his face as he couldn''t hold it in anymore.


    Not hesitating for a moment longer, he clamped down the pedal, pushing it all the way down and accelerated at full speed ahead.


    Rushing forward at maximum acceleration, it didn¡¯t take long before the smoggy air ahead revealed massive skyscrapers, blocking his line of sight.


    Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, he turned, avoiding the first skyscraper, then turned again, dodging the next.


    ¡°Hahaha, yes!¡± He exclaimed as he rushed ahead, leaning into each turn he made as he dodged the incoming obstacles. Once he started approaching the Ironglades speed limit, he took his foot off the gas. Despite the ships speed not actually being that high, it felt fast. In each and every turn, he felt the g-forces pressing him into his seat, it felt exhilarating.


    I get it now, why the designers skimped on the internal dampeners. The ship feels almost alive, each turn, with my entire body, I feel it working, bringing me and the machine closer.


    After some time, he finally did a wide turn, steering the shuttle back towards the factory.


    Though it wasn''t a fast ship, nor a very hard one to drive, it was his. Built with his own two hands. Even better, it worked exactly as described in the blueprint.


    This was not only a confirmation to himself that he knew what he was doing, it was the first full ship he¡¯d ever made. Besides getting accepted into the academy, this was the first real step he¡¯d taken towards his dream of being a designer... and it felt good.


    Simons marveled at the size of the factory as he was guided towards the entrance by security guards.


    To be working at such a large professional facility so early in his career was an incredible opportunity, but the incident a couple of days back, had put a serious dampener on his excitement. Had he just made a deal with the devil?


    The factory gate opened, and he walked inside. From alloy compression machines to a state-of-the-art 3-D printer, the facility was equipped with anything an aspiring designer could wish for, but where was Ronin?


    A soft grunt and a foul smell redirected his attention, and he looked up, noticing a scarred youth doing hanging sit-ups from atop the factory beams.


    ¡°Uh, Ronin?¡±


    The youth turned his head, pausing momentarily before flashing a grin.


    ¡°Just a moment, I¡¯m almost done,¡± Ronin said, then proceeded to do another 20 sit-ups before dropping down.


    Simons was shocked, had his new colleague just dropped down from over 10 meters above ground without even flinching? Ronin didn¡¯t even seem to register it as significant as he walked over.


    ¡°What¡¯s up? Ready to work? I¡¯ve got a couple of designs ready for us to practice with before we-¡°


    ¡°Before any of that,¡± Simons interrupted.


    ¡°A few days back, we all suddenly had to leave right as you entered the toilet,¡± Simons said before signaling his implant, bringing up several holograms showing a range of news reports describing the events that day.


    ¡°They''re calling it an act of bioterrorism you know¡­ Hundreds of cases of unconsciousness, shuttles crashing, stores, restaurants and banks have had to close¡­ just what kind of organization have I signed myself into? I deserve to know.¡±


    As the news reports kept rolling, Ronin raised his hands in surrender, ¡°I guess there is no avoiding this huh? Ok, look, I will neither confirm nor deny any involvement in this,¡± he said, waving one of his hands at the various holograms.


    ¡°But say, purely hypothetically speaking-¡°


    ¡°Hypothetically speaking?¡± Simons echoed.


    ¡°Hypothetically speaking, If I was involved in any way, it would¡¯ve been entirely accidental! I sometimes get a very bad stomachache, and I may have been taken by surprise that day, but never again!¡±


    Simons, still suspicious, nodded hesitantly.


    We did have to leave rather abruptly that day, so it does fit his explanation¡­Also, who knows what''s going on with this guy''s body? He just jumped down from over 10 meters and didn¡¯t even flinch, he thought.


    Having already signed a contract with the company, and invested greatly in surgeries and training, it was a little late to back out now anyways. He¡¯d give Ronin the benefit of the doubt, for now.


    ¡°Now, come, I will let you pick the first design we get to practice on today and I¡¯ve got to tell you, we¡¯ve got some good ones,¡± Ronin said, attempting to place a hand on Simons¡¯ shoulder.


    ¡°Please stay away from me, you stink.¡± Simons said, hastily backing away.


    ¡°Oww, come on! It can¡¯t be that bad, can it?¡±


    ¡°It is, and don¡¯t talk so loud, it makes the smell spread more.¡±


    ¡°Ok, now you¡¯re just screwing with me!¡±


    ¡°You know what they¡¯re calling you on the net now? The Defiler. I think I¡¯m well within my rights to ask for some distance.¡±


    ¡°I said it could be hypothetically me; I didn''t say it was!¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t smell hypothetical.¡±


    The Defiler, previously known as Ronin, guided Simons towards the design studio. Though, the scene looked rather peculiar, considering Ronin had to stay several meters away while doing so. He didn''t want to, but Simons wouldn''t have it any other way.


    The next few weeks passed by fast, fortunately, the smell did as well.


    Between playing ¡°Glory in the Arena¡±, working out, building ships with Simons, doing homework, practicing the Kalvrakian Embrace and dealing with the odd assassination attempt, Ronin barely noticed the improvements to his mental palace.


    He simply didn¡¯t have the time. But when the last crack was gone and his imaginary representation of the goliath class mothership, The Worldmaker, once again became perfect, he was forced to notice.


    As a surge of electricity ran through his body, his eyes opened to a world of unparalleled mental clarity. It felt as if a cloud of fog had just been lifted from his eyes and he could finally see again.


    It¡¯s time, he thought as he, once again, began feeling out the various closed doors occupying his mental palace.


    He''d done this before and was pretty sure which door he''d pick, but he had to be certain.


    Out of all the doors in the Potentia Panorama, very few gave off a feeling of stealth. This was likely due to how domineering the alien who¡¯d gifted him this legacy was. But the fact that there were only a few doors, didn''t mean that there were none.


    He needed a stealth technique, badly. It was his only viable path towards finding Ghost Butcher.


    He walked along the gangways of the giant ship, turning corner after corner, feeling out each and every door related to stealth. Finally, he came to a stop. One of the larger doors stood before him. It demanded a price, but this time, he was ready to pay it.


    It was about the size of the one he¡¯d opened earlier, the one containing the battle soul technique.


    Out of all the ones at this size or smaller, this door gave off the closest feeling to what he wanted. As he leaned up to it and focused, he got the distinct feeling of sneaking, hiding, deception and evasion.


    Centering himself, making sure he was absolutely ready, he gave the door a firm push and with a POP, it blasted open, flooding his mind with knowledge.


    Back in the real world, Ronin was laying down on the ground, his eyes flickering around uncontrollably as his eyelids fluttered up and down in rapid succession.


    As he lay there, completely out of it, the minutes ticked by. Suddenly, it stopped, and Ronin''s eyes snapped open. He checked his mindscape. There were cracks, but nothing serious.


    This should work perfectly, he thought.


    He began organizing the new memories:


    Snapshot: any opponent needs senses to interact with the world. Take advantage of the moment their senses lose focus to attack. On the fields of strife, inattention means death, but inattention is unavoidable, this is the realm of the snapshot.


    There were plenty of moves and tricks here to work on, but most relevant to him right now, was the human eyeblink. If he could move efficiently enough and to the right position every time the other person blinked their eyes, he could effectively become invisible.


    But to continually remain invisible, he needed more. Snapshot wasn''t enough. That''s where the second technique came in:


    Presenceless: By dawning a mental mask strong enough, anyone around the warrior can either be forced to look at the warrior or somewhere else. Deceive the opponent and forcibly create a snapshot when there is none.


    A more advanced technique, Presenceless, seemed to rely a lot on psychology. The sheer amount of information the door contained on different forms of alien subconscious body languages and how to influence it was astonishing to say the least.


    With these two techniques, as well as with the little bit of extra know-how he¡¯d just gained, it should be possible to put a tracker on Argus.


    He accessed his implant and updated his status table:


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9696%; background-color: rgba(2, 7, 40, 1); border-style: double" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Name</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Ronin Maximus</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Paradigm</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Potentia Panorama</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Gates</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Great gates (0/9), Major gates (0/2187), Minor gates (3/17487)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Body strengthening</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Stances: Kalvrakian Embrace vol.1 (10/108)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Mind strengthening</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Battle soul</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Combat techniques</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Near-Death-Sight (3.5x/??), enhanced instincts, Snapshot, Presenceless</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°Alright, time to get to work,¡± Ronin said aloud, rolling his shoulders.


    He may have acquired the basic knowledge on how to do the two techniques, but he needed practice if he wanted to master them.


    Fortunately, there was a whole city of people out there to practice on.


    If I''m going to head out without armor, I''ll need a disguise, he thought as he started looking around the factory.


    As a first order of business, he began scouring the building for rare clothes he rarely wore, then, after that was done, he accessed the net, shopping for whatever else he lacked. And after a fervent search, jumping from site to site as he shopped, he was finally done.


    Somehow, he''d ended up browsing several female websites along the way, but with what he''d gotten, he should be able to pass any casual inspection, easily.


    As the merchandise arrived, Ronin carefully put on the new makeup. After, he changed into a new set of clothing. He''d chosen a set of concrete gray overalls as well as a gray hoodie. Finally, he dropped liquid gel onto his eyes, changing his golden colored irises into mundane black.


    He brought up a hologram of himself, inspecting his new look. He looked like a completely different person, but that was the point. He was going out today, and without any protection at that. With a bounty like his, the last thing he wanted was to get recognized without his armor on.


    He entered his Hemsway-D8, started the engine, then headed towards one of the deeper valleys of Ironglades.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The blue and green neon lights of restaurants, nutrient pack stores and shopping centers, changed into the more unsavory red as he flew deeper and deeper into the valley.


    Before long, the light from the sun faded into dusky dimness, and nearly every store around, flickered in bright red.


    This was the land of pubs, casinos and brothels.


    It was perfect.


    Finding a gated parking lot, Ronin paid for a spot, then left for one of the more crowded pubs.


    I guess I should first dawn a mental mask, let¡¯s see¡­ what sort of image would be the most effective?


    The more terrifying of an image he imagined, the more his own body would subconsciously react, affecting the people around him. He needed to believe in the mental image he conjured, but what sort of image would be enough?


    He thought about the fear he¡¯d felt when he realized that his breathing mask didn¡¯t work back on Exodon.


    No, the fear of not being able to breathe is not direct enough. It has to be something concrete, like a man, creature, or an event...


    He thought about the terror he¡¯d felt in the abandoned city, when the Eizenshaft radiation mutated Arguses hunters into monsters.


    It could work but¡­


    There was this one memory in his mind. It wasn¡¯t his, but if he could use it, it could be more effective than anything...


    ¡°¡­¡±


    He entered the pub, quietly finding a wall to lean on amidst a group of rowdy pub dwellers.


    ¡°Finally, we¡¯re free of those damn ruddles! I never thought it would end!¡± A man near him shouted.


    ¡°Hrugh! That¡¯s just media propaganda!¡± Another broke in. He continued, ¡°we all know the expression¡­Uh, how did it go again¡­ Ah, now I remember! How do you know when the media is lying?¡±


    Several others followed up in unison, ¡°When they open their mouths!¡±


    The crowd broke into laughter.


    ¡°Still-,¡± the first man near Ronin continued after the laughter died down, ¡°People seem less worried lately. Stores are open and people walk around outside, it must have gotten a little bit better at least.¡±


    Several others around him nodded in agreement.


    Trying to ignore the rowdy atmosphere, Ronin recalled the moment he possessed the four-armed alien.


    He focused on the feelings the alien had felt¡­ he''d felt, when the alien punched the giant fractal gate, and that dark foul energy rushed out.


    The pub goers continued shouting and laughing.


    Ronin closed his eyes¡­ The mental image became clearer. As if the universe itself was ending, feelings of horror, fear and desperation washed over him. He wavered on the brink of collapse as he tried to focus on those negative emotions¡­ To strengthen them.


    More¡­ MORE!


    He was about to die... everything was about to die!


    ¡°Apocalypse,¡± Ronin wordlessly muttered as he compressed everything into a singular image.


    The energy from the alien artifact was always within him. It needed to be released every now and again, but it never truly ran out, not completely.


    Tiny motes of this energy, now, began compressing, almost turning liquid as it entered his brain.


    He looked towards the bar, attempting to place the image of the apocalypse itself onto the bar counter¡­


    There. He locked the image firmly in place.


    Now, let¡¯s see if this thing will work as the Potentia Panorama described. Humans were never really mentioned, so I wasn¡¯t able to use any of the supplementary techniques. I guess I¡¯ll just have to wait and see.


    In the wake of a heated discussion, a pub dweller briefly looked towards one of the walls. His eyes saw a figure leaning against said wall, but his mind didn¡¯t register it. Instead, for some reason, his entire focus was drawn towards the bar counter.


    The conversation around him picked up again, but it became difficult for the man to follow along. His eyes kept wandering over to the bar, again and again. Why was that?


    Others around him began noticing. As they looked at the man, they, also, started unconsciously looking over towards the bar counter.


    Be it by noticing Ronin, or by noticing the guests already affected, more and more people became distracted.


    Presenceless spread across the pub like an unseen pandemic, and before long, the once rowdy atmosphere, died down to short grunts and snippets of half-formed conversations.


    As Ronin finally pushed himself off from the wall and began walking out, not a single soul noticed. They didn¡¯t even register his existence, or that he had ever existed for that matter. There was something else on their mind¡­ The bar counter¡­and the funny thing was, not a single one of them had any clue as to why¡­

 Chapter 23: Shadow in the alley

    Outside the pub, Ronin quickly found a bench to sit down on. Leaning back, he let out a deep breath.


    I never imagined it to be this draining.


    The technique took too long to set up and couldn¡¯t be maintained for long either.


    He inwardly sighed, well, I guess that''s why people practice.


    He could choose an easier mental image, but that would reduce the potency of the technique. Argus was an influential member of the underworld and likely had plenty of guards. If he was going to sneak up to such a man and place a tracker on him, he¡¯d want as strong of a mental mask as he could muster. There¡¯s no way he¡¯d half ass something like this.


    Continuing to breathe, heavily, in, then out, in, then out, he gathered his strength, all the while, carefully watching his surroundings.


    As time passed, his breath lightened and his head cleared up, and by the time about 30 minutes had gone by, he felt ready.


    Now how in the world do I train Snapshot?


    He¡¯d look like a total weirdo if he ran around trying to jump in and out of people''s eyesight here. People would notice. No, that was not stealth, he needed somewhere less crowded, like an alleyway.


    Looking around, he spotted a dark passage behind the pub. There were people around the passage, but none nearby actually seemed to be walking towards it.


    Doesn''t seem like it''s used much...Yeah, this should do just nicely.


    Pulling the hood over his head, he rose and began casually making his way over.


    Nothing to see here, just your normal¡­ Well, who DOES hang around a pub in the middle of the day anyways?


    Before Ronin could find the answer, the badly lit passageway was before him.


    It was empty, for now, but that could change. He walked in and found a spot to hide.


    Hopefully, he wouldn¡¯t have to wait long...


    Step, step, step


    ¡°You¡¯ve been hyping up this place for weeks now, you''re sure this place is for real? I know how your memory gets when on a bender,¡± a voice rang out across the empty alleyway.


    ¡°Listen, the red velvet ain¡¯t just cheap, it''s one of the best brothels in the valley! Just wait! They¡¯ve got this new girl, Starly, and I¡¯m telling you, her skills with her hands are legendary, to say nothing of her looks,¡± another voice argued in response.


    As the two inebriated middle-aged men made their way along the alley, Ronin walked out.


    Spotting the gray clothed, hooded stranger, the men became nervous, but the moment they blinked, he disappeared.


    ¡°Di-did you see that? I''m getting a bad feeling about this,¡± one of the men asked nervously.


    ¡°I-I saw it too, let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    However, as they continued walking, they began noticing a rising ominous feeling, like an indistinct tingling at the back of their necks. With every step, it kept rising, getting worse.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Their steps became hurried.


    One of the men moved his hand back, trying to scratch the feeling away. It didn''t work. The feeling was still there. Should they move faster maybe? They needed to leave. He turned his head toward his friend to ask-


    There... mere centimeters behind his friends balding head, literally breathing down the man''s neck, was the stranger!


    He blinked. The man was gone again.


    He couldn¡¯t contain himself anymore. ¡°RUN!¡± He shouted, sprinting out of the alleyway with all he had.


    Tsk!


    Frustrated, Ronin headed back towards his hiding spot.


    He¡¯d failed.


    Snapshot became harder to do with more people around. He''d messed up his predictions of one of the men, causing him to be spotted and the rest was history. The two men had run out of the alley like kids fleeing a rogue horde of ruddles.


    It appears I¡¯ll have to spend some time mastering this as well, Ronin thought.


    He went back to his old hiding spot and waited until more people entered the alleyway.


    The minutes passed as he sat there, crouched down in anticipation.


    Slowly, but surely, he heard it. Faint sound of approaching steps beckoned the arrival of a new practice target.


    Yes! This time I''ll do it.


    This time it was a lone stranger.


    As the lone figure approached, he once again, walked up to the man, waited for the man''s eyes to blink, then moved.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As the minutes turned to hours, Ronin altered between the pub and the alleyway. He didn''t notice much improvement in the beginning, but as the hours passed, he got better.


    He became more proficient in Presenceless, lessening the price of putting on the mental mask.


    He could also consistently stay hidden from up to 2 people with Snapshot now.


    As for using both techniques at once? He hadn¡¯t tried it, yet, it was too costly.


    But when I do use both techniques? I¡¯ve got a feeling that would be VERY overpowered, he thought to himself, his lips curving into a slight smile.


    But now, it was time to call it quits. He''d been practicing for hours and needed rest. He headed back towards his shuttle. Reaching the gated parking lot, he flashed his parking ticket and was let inside. Stepping into the ship, he entered the cockpit, turned on the engine and made a call to Nagata.


    As the call connected, his implant''s projection function activated, and a screen of the more than likely, high, uncle appeared.


    [Yes?] Nagata asked.


    Ronin pulled the control stick back and the shuttle began rising up from the ground.


    [How¡¯s the progress on Argus?] He asked.


    The hologram of the older man could be seen nervously rubbing its hands together, [is this really the only way? I¡¯m sure there are many out there who would help.]


    Ronin chuckled in response, [now that you mention it, I did get an offer.] He transferred over the contract he¡¯d gotten from the academy.


    Nagata began reading, likely a little slower due to the drugs running through his system, but his eyes quickly shot up once he reached the relevant section.


    [This¡­ This is-]


    [A slave contract,] Ronin finished. [I¡¯d have to give up everything I¡¯ve achieved. All the funds I¡¯ve accumulated, all future patents, my personal freedom, everything¡­ 10 years of my life. That''s the price.]


    Only the soft hum of the engine could be heard as Nagata took it all in.


    [Huuh, maybe I¡¯ve grown soft over the years, but I never thought the academy would be this domineering. Part of Tar¡¯s genius strategy is about fostering good will between the chosen candidates and the state. It¡¯s what makes geniuses still want to help Tar after they leave for higher systems. To shackle them instead¡­]


    [Maybe they saw a unique opportunity with me. Regardless, I won¡¯t sign it. So, will you help me?]


    [Alright, let¡¯s do this,] his uncle said, then began compiling the target package.


    As the shuttle reached the higher sections of the valley and the dim, smog-blanketed light outside began brightening up, Nagata sent the documents over.


    Ending the call, Ronin drove the final leg of the journey before landing back at Maximum solutions. It was time to see what had gotten his uncle so scared. Ronin pulled up the documents.


    The holographic image of a blond-haired burly man appeared on the factory floor as his Uninet began projecting. Besides the man, was data on homes of residence, travel routes, surveillance systems, subordinates and more.


    He scratched his chin, ¡°Argus huh, so that''s what you look like.¡±


    He thought back on the time his apartment blew up, the harrowing hunt, his time in prison¡­


    ¡°I have a feeling we will be meeting very soon¡­¡±

 Chapter 24: Tracking a predator

    Work had been called off, academy work had been postponed and exercise had been kept to a minimum.


    These last few days, Ronin had gotten so engrossed in training his stealth techniques, his life had pretty much been put on hold.


    Currently in the middle of a rundown pub, Ronin used Presenceless to direct a crowd''s attention. The entire pub began repeatedly glancing over at an image of some long dead idol on the wall. Apparently, the girl in the image had once visited this place and had a drink.


    Ronin somewhat doubted that. Would an idol really visit this kind of neighborhood?


    The attention of the crowd moved over to an old jackhammer.


    After getting accustomed to the feeling of horror he¡¯d bring up every time he donned the mental mask, he¡¯d found he could move the image.


    Ronin narrowed his eyes again, moving the image of the broken fractal gate towards a wolfram enriched rock sample, displayed at the back of the pub. The pub dwellers subconsciously followed along.


    Feeling his focus begin to falter, he walked outside and released the technique.


    Phew, he let out a deep breath, checking his timer.


    2 minutes¡­ It will have to do, he thought.


    It was the same as last time. Maybe, if he really tried, he could hold the mental mask a few seconds longer, but he''d pretty much reached a bottleneck at this point. Progress had been fast in the beginning. From holding the mask for 30 seconds, he had rapidly improved to a minute, then 1.5 minutes. Those last 30 seconds though, had taken a lot of work.


    Perhaps my mind would have to be stronger first?


    He might have to complete more stances in the Kalvrakian Embrace to move further along with Presenceless. Regardless, it was time to pay Argus a visit. Any further work on the technique would take too long.


    He headed back towards his ship, the Hemsway, but he wouldn¡¯t be driving towards the factory this time. Not today.


    Argus slouched back on the couch as subordinates ran back and forth within the room.


    ¡°The CLM has been getting more aggressive, boss,¡± one man said, gesturing towards a hologram in the middle of the room.


    ¡°They¡¯ve begun claiming territory around the northern front and we¡¯ve lost 6 blocks already.¡±


    ¡°How are our defenses?¡± Argus asked.


    ¡°We reduced them after the CLM went silent, but those revolutionary bastards are back in full force! From rocket launchers to military grade spaceships, they¡¯ve got everything!¡±


    His subordinates always liked to exaggerate. Military grade spaceships? No. Those ships were modified commercial shuttles. They had weapons, sure, but were nothing compared to the real deal.


    ¡°How¡¯s the takeover of the south going?¡± Argus asked.


    ¡°Sir, 20% of district 104 belongs to us, and though there''s been some minor resistance from the local gangs, its being handled,¡± another man reported.


    ¡°Alright, move the newly pledged gangs from the south, north. They can prove their loyalty on the front lines while we gather stronger weapons.¡± Argus said, his face breaking into a slight smirk at the thought of the coming bloodbath.


    As his men got to work implementing the new plan, he couldn''t help but think of the annoying brat he¡¯d been ordered to, again, deal with.


    ¡°By the way, what''s the status on the bounty?¡± He asked.


    He¡¯d been heavily chewed out by Specter, and it had not so subtly been implied that his head might leave his body should this continue.


    Though they had plenty of ongoing bounties up at the moment, everyone in the room knew who Argus asked for. The "Bounty" only referred to one person and one person alone.


    ¡°The only ones taking the bounty are low grade assassins and adventurers who don¡¯t know any better.¡± A third man said.


    ¡°Only some greedy upstarts? Why none of the bigger players?¡±


    ¡°Sir, they¡¯ve all said the factory is too heavily fortified and Ronin almost never leaves the building. There is only one window of opportunity. He regularly travels towards the spaceship academy, but even then, he makes it very difficult to set something up.¡±


    The man paused, a bit nervous, before continuing: ¡°The mercenary group Executive Actions have reached out, but they want more credits...¡±


    ¡°Greedy bastards!¡± Argus exclaimed, shocked at the audacity.


    3 million credits were stretching it, even for him, and now they wanted more?!


    ¡°Hold off on that, let¡¯s revisit it after we¡¯ve secured the north,¡± he said. If he lost the north due to having insufficient funds, it would be even worse than failing at taking down the brat.


    Not too far away, the brat was quickly making his way towards district 101. A couple of hundred meters away from the 10-meter-wide chute leading into the district, he landed the ship.


    Hopefully it''s still here by the time I get back, he thought, exiting the ship and heading into the chute.


    After climbing down into the fog-filled streets, he began sneaking along the walls, heading towards one of Argus''s compounds.


    It was the one place Argus had been seen repeatedly entering every week, so it was his best bet by far.


    The weakly acidic fog helped hide him as he moved along, using Snapshot every now and again, avoiding anyone getting too close for comfort.


    This place¡­ It must have been hit harder by the ruddle outbreak than anywhere else¡­ There¡¯s so much destruction here, half the people in the district might be gone.


    The streets were filled with trash, long dead residents, animal remains and the occasionally scattered groupings of drug dealers, pimps and harlots. As he continued sneaking towards the compound, over time, the landscape changed. Organized armed patrols began appearing, becoming more and more frequent the closer he got.


    As a group of partially bionic men, armed with laser rifles, breathing masks and shock grenades passed by, he spotted the compound.


    Finally, one of the bastards who¡¯d ordered him dead was within reach... ARGUS!


    Ronin had to forcibly reign in his hands from shaking. He couldn¡¯t kill him¡­ not today. He took out the injector he¡¯d prepared for this. Utterly illegal and unreasonably expensive, the injector was filled with nanobots. Designed to be virtually undetectable, these bots not only tracked the location of the target. They picked up and recorded the audio registered along the target''s eardrums, then sent it all out to an anonymous server every time the host connected to the net.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Nagata had said something about the bots piggybacking off implant signals when he handed it over, but Ronin was simply happy with the fact that the thing worked. He didn¡¯t need the specifics, just the knowledge on how to use it.


    Shadowing a group of guards, he approached. Any closer now and they¡¯d see him. The place was packed. Be it guards or people simply working there, they filled the place to the point that it looked crowded. As dozens of figures, both men and women could be seen walking in and out of the building, several small shuttles arrived. After a few minutes they left again, only for new shuttles to take their place.


    Ahead was a 100-meter stretch filled with fences, turrets and possibly mines. He had to run that distance, get into the compound and inject Argus. Time to get to work, he thought, donning his grey hood. He took a deep breath and activated Presenceless.


    Apocalypse¡­


    He had 2 minutes.


    Running with all he had, he jumped the first fence, flying over it, arms and head first, before landing in a dive roll. He quickly got up, bolting forward while keeping a watchful eye for land mines. The next fence was even taller... He chose the gate this time.


    As the gate began opening for a couple of men, both riding monowheels, he squeezed through the gap, having only centimeters to spare between himself and the gate as he passed. He was finally through and could see the large building ahead. He would enter through the front door; he lacked the time for anything else.


    1 minute 40 seconds remaining.


    An all-out sprint rapidly brought him through the large door, and he immediately took in his new surroundings. The report sent by Nagata was sparse from this point on. There were people moving in all kinds of directions, but from the facial expressions of the various gang members, the ones heading upstairs looked more serious, they also wore more expensive clothing.


    With no choice but to gamble, he followed them up.


    1 minute 10 seconds remaining.


    Floor after floor passed. Was it this floor? Or the next? He made a snap decision and continued upwards. There! Scanning his surroundings, he spotted a door with more people than any of the previous floors.


    40 seconds remaining.


    He ran along the corridor, swinging into the new room feet first, his right hand firmly gripping the door frame as he slowed and shifted his momentum.


    ¡°How are the newly pledged gangs doing?¡± He heard a man say.


    The man, sitting in the middle of the room, had blond hair and a muscular body. It had to be him, Argus!


    ¡°Well, sort of as you¡¯d expect. They¡¯re getting hammered and probably won''t hold on for long,¡± another man said as Ronin approached.


    Strange¡­ Why did it feel like Argus was looking at him? He still had a firm grasp on his mental mask. The image of approaching foul apocalyptic energy bursting out of the fractal gate, was placed firmly behind the man¡­ But why did it seem like he was not affected?


    20 seconds remaining.


    He ignored the uncanny feeling of maybe being looked at, running towards the blond haired man.


    As he got closer, however, it became clear. He¡¯d definitely been seen. Argus¡¯s eyes were following his movements! Halfway there-


    Argus blinked. Ronin moved. The toll of using both Presenceless and Snapshot simultaneously was brutal, his focus wavered and his mental mask shook.


    But the man''s lapse of focus had been enough. Ronin was out of eyesight. Hiding behind subordinate after subordinate, Ronin moved each time the man blinked.


    This was really pushing it. His mind wasn¡¯t strong enough for this yet.


    10 seconds remaining.


    Moving quickly, he finally arrived behind Argus. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of gravel he¡¯d brought before coming here, then, threw it out the door. As the rock flew out of the room and into the corridor beyond, he lifted the injector in preparation for the coming sound.


    PING!


    The sound of the rock hitting the wall, was perfectly timed to the stab of the injector into Argus¡¯s neck.


    But, with inhuman speed, almost as fast as Ronin¡¯s own, the man turned his head, ignoring the sound. Blink. Ronin moved.


    ¡°Huh!? What''s going on here!?¡± Argus roared, looking confused.


    5 seconds remaining.


    He scanned the room, no windows¡­ It was too late to get out. There were too many people in the compound. Without Presenceless, Ronin would be spotted. That was the last thing he needed. He needed to hide!


    Where, where, come on!


    Then he spotted it. The sofa! There wasn¡¯t much space, but he was still fairly skinny. He could fit.


    He had 3 seconds left, but Argus still hadn¡¯t blinked. Should he take the chance? Argus was still looking around, confused, he might be able too-


    1 second remaining¡­ and Argus blinked!


    He ran for the sofa, then lay himself flat on his stomach as he slid under.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Did any of you see that?¡± A bewildered Argus shouted into the room.


    ¡°Sir?¡± A man asked, confused.


    ¡°Someone was here! I¡¯m sure of it!¡± Argus continued.


    From beneath the couch, Ronin felt it move as the muscular crime boss above him rose and began stalking around the room.


    ¡°Come out! Come out now!¡± Argus shouted.


    Trying his best to keep his own heavy breathing quiet, Ronin could literally hear the tension in the room.


    ¡°Boss, I think you¡¯re the only person who saw¡­ whatever you saw,¡± someone commented.


    ¡°No, it can¡¯t be, can it? Did I imagine it?¡±


    The unsettling shuffling of feet around the room was all Ronin could hear as an awkward silence descended.


    ¡°Hah, look at that, I¡¯m acting like a maniac. Hehehe,¡± Argus finally chuckled.


    Ronin could hear footsteps approaching. He held his breath, waiting. The sofa sank down as the big man finally sat back down again.


    Thank the void. I¡¯m still hidden, Ronin wordlessly breathed out as he waited. He needed to recuperate and couldn¡¯t stay here long. Hiding under a sofa might be an unorthodox choice, but it was by no means safe. Sooner or later, he¡¯d be discovered if this went on.


    ¡°Check with the guards if there¡¯s been any sign of intrusion,¡± Argus said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± a little confused, someone answered.


    ¡°-And check if there¡¯s been any reports on something being strange, out of order, anything like that the last hour as well,¡± Argus finished, not specifying further.


    ¡°Now where were we¡­ ahh, yes, the newcomers were getting hammered you said? Hmm¡­ Let¡¯s be generous today. Give the gangs that have been fighting the hardest some SK-89 series laser rifles. It should make their battles a little easier from now on.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Ronin hid under that couch for what must have been over 20 minutes, listening to the conversations above as he rested.


    He heard talk about what he speculated to be politicians and businessmen, what they''d be willing to do and how much they¡¯d cost to bribe. He also heard about war plans, the status of the gang''s drug trade, their brothels. But¡­ never even once did they mention The Ghost Butcher. Any conversation that might naturally mention the man, stopped as soon as they reached that point. The way in which every conversation somehow avoided mentioning him sounded... unnatural, discordant.


    Regardless, it was time. Ronin would have loved it if he could have some more rest, but he felt ready enough. Time to leave.


    Apocalypse, he wordlessly whispered, donning the mental mask again.


    With both hands, he grabbed two of the legs supporting the sofa and pulled hard, rapidly sliding out. As he pushed himself up from the floor, rising to his feet, he did a quick scan of the room. Yup, Argus was still here.


    Better move fast, that bastard isn''t normal. Who knows if he¡¯ll see me, Ronin thought as he moved behind a man nearby, shielding himself from Argus¡¯s eyesight.


    After using Snapshot a couple of times, he was out.


    Phew, that room nearly gave me a heart attack


    Ronin knew the way back now, making his way back out of the compound shouldn''t pose much difficulty. He ran.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The toxic fog once again greeted him as he made his way out of the building and past the two fences. It was also at this point that he noticed the soles on his shoes almost falling off.


    How fast must I have run for my shoes to fall apart!? He mentally added a to-do list for the next time he went shopping.


    High quality footwear. Got it. I''m not making that mistake again.


    As he snuck back out of district 101, he finally arrived at the 40-meter-long chute leading out.


    He began climbing. One of his soles eventually gave in, falling off his left shoe and dropping down, landing 30 meters further down the chute. He continued.


    Finally, out of the chute, he looked around. Where was his shuttle?


    He walked over to where he¡¯d parked it... Nothing, there was nothing here!


    My Hemsway! They took you didn¡¯t they!


    And just like that, the first ship he¡¯d ever made, was heartlessly stolen away.

 Chapter 25: Industrial Industriousness

    On the factory floor lay two suits. One of these suits was a massive bulky power armor. The massive conglomeration of wires, plates, gears and servos made up an over 3 meters tall machine, stuffed to the brim with lasers, missiles and fragmentation grenades. All of it illegal of course.


    The other suit, smaller in size, had no weapons, but it did have an overly gaudy golden codpiece.


    Ronin was staring both these suits down, trying to figure out what to do:


    I could repaint the codpiece on the Heromaker to make it less visible¡­ no, it would still stick out. People will still be able to see it, Ronin thought, shaking his head.


    With every day that passed, he¡¯d gotten more and more self-conscious about it. The constant stares, awkward expressions and chuckles, made putting on the Heromaker a nightmare. No, he had no doubts, the codpiece had to go, no matter what.


    As for the war suit¡­


    Should I really remove all of its weapons?


    It would be such a waste. All of that potential, to just throw it away¡­ After all, who knows what could happen? Why shouldn¡¯t he deserve some real protection? It was his suit after all. It belonged to him, his possession, all his own, his-


    ¡°Ronin! Why aren¡¯t you studying for the exams?¡± A deep voice rang out. ¡°Simons?¡± Ronin said, interrupted from his musings. ¡°And what''s with that scary expression you were making?¡± Simons followed up.


    ¡°Scary expression? No no no, I¡¯ve just been thinking about removing the codpiece from the Heromaker suit.¡±


    ¡°Uhh, ok,¡± Simons said, looking at Ronin skeptically. ¡°But we both know you''re not as innocent as you claim¡­ Defiler.¡±


    ¡°I hate that name,¡± Ronin breathed out, shaking his head.


    After a short pause, he raised his hand to his chin, shifting the conversation onto a more comfortable topic, ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking lately, about how we¡¯ve only been constructing small spaceships until now. At this point, we¡¯re both fairly adept at both the printer and the assembler, and it might be time for us to make something bigger.¡±


    Simons¡¯ eyes lit up, ¡°Really!? But it will have to be after the exams.¡±


    Ronin smirked, ¡°you sure about that? Seems I¡¯ll get a head start then.¡±


    He already owned his own company, why would he bother about exam results? As long as he learned and understood the curriculum, it didn¡¯t matter what grades he got. What he needed was access to the academy''s resources. Be it their books, texts or research papers, if he wasn''t affiliated with the ISFA like he was now, getting access could get, difficult.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As Simons went off on his own to cram for the upcoming exams, Ronin gathered his tools to begin working on the Heromaker.


    After walking back to the suit, he crouched down, inspecting the codpiece. It was for the most part just fastened to the suit via screws and bolts. No problem, he picked up a miniaturized power tool and began removing them. In short order, the screws and bolts piled up beside him, and after the last screw was loose, he popped off the golden codpiece. After laying down the codpiece beside the screws, he was greeted by a cluster of wires and a battery. He''d have to stuff all of that deeper into the suit if he was going to place a flat plate over it. At this point though... it didn''t exactly look like brute force was going to work.


    So as to not damage the power armor, he began drilling out more screws, opening and removing more plating as he traced the wires. Interestingly, the wires connected to several different circuit boards. Two of the wires connected to the circuit boards on the suit''s lower legs. He disconnected those wires, then turned the Heromaker on to see what changed.


    The silent mode of the suit is showing error messages now. These circuit boards must be related to the soundproofing system!


    He turned off the Heromaker and reconnected the wires, then moved on, following another set of wires up towards the suit''s chest area. Then, after removing another set of armor plates, he reached a large central circuit board. This must be important.


    He removed the wires and turned on the suit again. This time it was the dance routine that showed error messages.


    So that''s where that void forbidden dance program came from!


    He began redirecting the wires and after a lot of testing, he managed to connect the battery under the codpiece up to the energy shield system.


    With a little bit of brute force and some rearranging of the internals, he also managed to stuff the bulging wires and battery deeper into the suit. He finished the session off by smelting down the codpiece, then, by funneling that very same liquid metal into the 3-D printer, he printed a new flat plate to replace it.


    Switching on the Heromaker, it showed an estimated battery time of 1.1 hours of continuous combat.


    That''s a 10% increase in battery life! And all I had to do was give up some dance routines!


    ¡°Hahaha, I¡¯ve done it!¡± Ronin laughed in delight.


    Simons, who''d been busy doing exam related sub-light propulsion calculations, walked over.


    ¡°Wow! 5 hours of work to replace a codpiece, congratulations sir. Consider me impressed!¡±


    ¡°Stop with the sarcasm already, I did more than that. It¡¯s not visible, but underneath this armor here-¡± Ronin laughed, slapping the Heromakers chest plate, ¡°I¡¯ve rearranged maybe a third of the wiring in this suit. I¡¯ve pretty much boosted this thing¡¯s longevity by 10%.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that actually is kind of impressive.¡± Simons said, eyes widening.


    ¡°By the way, why are you here at the factory? I mean, I don¡¯t mind the company, but you''re not really working, you¡¯re just cramming for school,¡± Ronin asked.


    Simons awkwardly scratched the back of his head.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave if it''s a problem, but... I don¡¯t know, I kind of just like the freedom here. Back home, everything operates on a schedule. I¡¯m rarely allowed out of the house, every friend I have was chosen by my father and I¡¯m only allowed to eat when my family does.¡±


    ¡°Really!?¡± Ronin was shocked. He and Simons apparently lived two completely opposite lives. Whereas he himself could basically do whatever he wanted, for good or for bad, Simons had no freedom at all.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°What about when a friend asks you to stay over? What about just hanging out outside? Everyone does that.¡±


    ¡°No, never. Not me. My father says there''s no point in spending too much time with friends. The only friend''s worth making are those who either are or provide useful connections. The friends you can benefit from, the friends who help you rise up, further along the social ladder. There¡¯s no value in wasting your time on nothing.¡±


    Ronin''s shock only grew. No wonder he mentions his father so much. He barely has any other relations; his father takes up his whole life.


    ¡°Well, I guess you can consider me a valuable connection at least. I¡¯m sure your father also sees it that way as well, so there shouldn¡¯t be any issues with you staying here, whether there¡¯s actually any work to do or not.¡±


    Simons, looking a little embarrassed, nodded in agreement, ¡°yeah, that¡¯s what I was thinking too. It just feels good to be out of the house, you know.¡±


    ¡°Sure man, stay as much as you want. I can even arrange for another bed here if you¡¯d like. Doesn¡¯t matter to me. I mean, heh, void knows, if there¡¯s one thing this place doesn¡¯t lack, it¡¯s space.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, though I think you can hold off on that extra bed. I doubt I¡¯d be able to convince my father to actually let me live here.¡±


    Ronin flashed a grin, ¡°no problem man. But don¡¯t be too sure about that. This is a top-of-the-line factory, and when we get commissions, we might have to pull a few all-nighters here in the future.¡±


    For a factory to feel like a place of freedom, he almost felt a little bad for the guy. Either way, this was an issue between Simons and his father, not something for him to bulldoze his way into. He had a ship to build, a big one at that.


    Ronin rose up and stretched his back. ¡°Ahh, now If you¡¯ll excuse me, there¡¯s a very big ship out there, just waiting to be built. Too bad there¡¯s a poor soul here who¡¯d rather bury his head in texts, instead of bringing this large ship to life.¡± "A sad thing indeed, a sad thing indeed," Ronin said, shaking his head theatrically, sounding like a sad old man.


    ¡°Come on! Can¡¯t we wait for the exams first- ¡°


    ¡°Nope, time¡¯s precious and I intend to squeeze it for every second it has,¡± Ronin finished, heading over towards the design studio.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    In order to properly flex his designer muscles, Ronin decided on a landbound cargo vessel. The ship type was not what made this difficult, no. What made this a challenge was the sheer size of the ship.


    The big thing was 10 meters long from stern to bow, 3 meters tall and 5 meters in width. It had a much larger cockpit than his old Hemsway and a hallway you could walk through to get to the cargo hold. Finally, it had a small engineering deck as well as a tiny sleeping quarters.


    It was essentially halfway between a corvette and shuttle in terms of what it had to offer, and a perfect ship to train on. He was, after all, not going to settle for shuttles, when he was ready, he¡¯d be making proper interstellar spaceships.


    Ronin forked over a million credits for the blueprint, then walked over to the 3-D printer to begin printing out parts. Turning on the printer, he uploaded the blueprint he¡¯d just bought and waited for the metal ingots in storage to heat up. He started with the parts belonging to the lower section of the hull.


    First, he printed out the landing gear, watching as the microscopic needles of the printer rapidly moved around, building each piece, millimeter by millimeter. As each piece was done, it moved along conveyor belts until it reached the oil station. He walked over and, by hand, applied the friction oil. He then put the pieces together, and injected oil into the hydraulic components. He hadn¡¯t quite worked out how to do this with the assembler yet.


    He then began printing the base which he would connect the landing gear to. After that, he started on the rest of the lower hull, not stopping until every piece was printed. Finally, as the freshly printed parts cooled down, he checked his storage for ingots.


    Yeah¡­ I¡¯ll be needing a lot more metal for this ship, he thought.


    After contacting a couple of local suppliers, ordering in a new shipment of ingots, he turned to the assembler.


    However, as he began walking towards the assembler''s control panel, he saw a familiar figure rapidly making his way over.


    ¡°Changed your mind?¡± Ronin asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Stop teasing, you know damn well I¡¯d never miss something like this!¡± Simons breathed out. With both hands on his knees, after some heavy breathing, he continued, ¡°can you send over the blueprint?¡±


    ¡°Already on it,¡± Ronin chuckled as the design of the heavy cargo vessel was transferred over.


    Simons read over the blueprint, ¡°oh my! This thing is a monster! 10 meters!? Really?¡± He erupted, taking a hold of Ronin, shaking him back and forth.


    ¡°So, about this exam that''s coming up?¡±


    ¡°Eherm, if we can¡¯t wait for the exam, the exam will have to wait for us. Some things are simply more important,¡± Simons said, puffing up and tapping his chest in an act of importance.


    ¡°Alright, let''s do this then,¡± Ronin said.


    He connected his optical implant to the assembler''s control panel and a virtual interface appeared. On it was a virtual display of the newly printed ship parts, the assembler arms, lifts and bots. To the side, the virtual display showed levers, diagrams and lines of text representing various assembly programs.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the stern first, I¡¯ll move the parts over while you do the welding,¡± Ronin said, receiving a nod from Simons.


    Taking hold of two of the virtual levers, he began moving two of the assembler arms over towards the conveyor belts. The arms gripped a couple of hull parts and moved them over towards the building station.


    Simons quickly followed up, and soon four assembler arms were working in tandem, moving and welding together plates and parts as the ship began taking shape.


    As they continued on, the hours passed, and the stern of the ship was slowly but surely being completed.


    ¡°Alright, that''s the welding done, you take a breather while I fully seal the welds with the polymer,¡± Ronin said, gripping another set of levers.


    ¡°I-I can still go on, we¡¯re just getting to the good part,¡° Simons tiredly complained.


    As another set of assembler arms began injecting polymer sealant, Ronin chuckled back, ¡°-and that¡¯s why I¡¯m doing it. Now go, rest.¡±


    Simons was a great employee who had more than enough work ethic and enthusiasm, but he couldn¡¯t work him to the bone. Ronin was different though. If he progressed far enough along with the Kalvrakian Embrace, perhaps he could one day work forever?


    He shuddered, ok, on second thought, that doesn¡¯t actually sound good at all!


    On a faraway planet, along the arm of Orion, deep into the domain of mankind, a silver haired girl, lazily snapped her finger. The anti-gravity machine slowly raised her from her bed as tables and kitchenware exited the wall, then floated over. The room changed as a soft breeze began blowing, the smell of summer emerged as a field of impossibly beautiful flowers replaced the white walls of the room.


    All of it chosen by the central AI to precisely fit the girl¡¯s preferences of course. All perfect. All of it fake.


    ¡°Is the setting to your liking young mistress?¡± An old man asked, walking into the room with the natural grace of a butler.


    ¡°Hueh, it¡¯s fine,¡± the girl breathed out.


    She was growing tired of this superficial world around her.


    Noticing her expression, the old man added, ¡°We could arrange for some music to be played if you¡¯d like miss?¡±


    ¡°No need,¡± she said, carefully beginning to sample the food.


    ¡°If you are to inherit the company and become the clan matriarch, an optimal mood is better when learning. Your father-¡°


    ¡°Not today, Ludvig,¡± she interrupted. ¡°Leave me.¡±


    ¡°Very well, young mistress.¡± The older man, not showing the slightest reaction to his dismissal, walked back out of the room¡­ But he didn¡¯t go far, staying right outside her room, waiting, listening.


    The girl looked over towards the VR-capsule at the other end of the room. That world was also fake, but at least the people within were real. The strength she gained from this world was real. It was better than nothing.

 Chapter 26: The Exam

    After wolfing down some nutrient packs, Ronin and Simons finished the lower hull of the cargo ship. Having worked long hours yesterday, it had not taken much to finish the last few welds. The metal ingots he¡¯d ordered yesterday had also arrived, but right now, there was something more important at the front of his mind.


    Ronin, currently busy looking at a holographic screen, made a short grunt in discontent. The central screen was displaying Argus¡¯s position, and off to the side, was an ever-increasing list of words. The list contained every word recorded by the nanobots since their injection into Argus''s neck.


    Strange, it''s been two days, but not a single mention of Specter. Nothing. What could make a hardened criminal like Argus so cautious?


    ¡°By the way, why did you buy such an expensive license? I get that it''s good to practice on a bigger ship, but 1 million credits? Are you sure the higher ups are ok with this?¡± Simons asked, looking at the new metal ingots with anticipation.


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    Ronin glanced up from the holographic display, scrunched his eyebrows and thought about the question for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s not about the ship itself per se, but all the parts that come with it. With that one license, we¡¯ve got a new engine we can legally make, we can make new landing gear, a new air lock, it goes on. When we start designing ships of our own, all of these licenses will be our building blocks, so the more licenses we have, the better ships we can design.¡±


    As for what the higher ups thought about this? Well, they didn¡¯t exist to begin with. But if Ronin was going to explain how actually he was the owner, he would also have to explain how he suddenly came upon enough credits to buy a state-of-the-art factory, and if the secret went out and the CLM found out?


    ¡°The higher ups are totally fine with it,¡± Ronin lied.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yup, absolutely!¡±


    He¡¯d never admit to being the real boss behind the scenes. Not if he could help it. Especially not to Simons who, not long ago, underwent liposuction for the job.


    Simons looked over the newly arrived metal ingots. ¡°What do you think we should start with next? Should we just complete the whole hull, or make some other modules first?¡±


    Ronin thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do as much as we can before completing the hull, the more access we give the assembler during construction, the better. If we build the hull now, how are the assembler arms supposed to enter? We¡¯d just be creating more work for ourselves. But you should focus on the exams for the rest of the day. There probably won¡¯t be any more work on the ship before tomorrow morning.¡±


    The alien artifact was getting restless, Ronin could feel it.


    As a disappointed Simons began changing out of his work clothes, getting ready to head back home, Ronin headed towards the VR-chamber. But as he began undressing, getting ready to jump into the nutrient fluid, Simons words stopped him:


    ¡°It may be a bit rude for me to be asking this, but your back¡­ no, it¡¯s all over your body, all those scars. What happened to you?¡±


    Ronin glanced nonchalantly over his shoulder, but after a short moment, his usually carefree attitude was replaced with signs of exhaustion. His shoulders lowered slightly, and his eyes lost a bit of their spark. ¡°¡­Life man, life.¡±


    ¡°Some injuries I got from parkour, but most of these are from fights I didn¡¯t start.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Simons said, staring at the floor while shuffling his feet in discomfort.


    Ronin continued, ¡°I don¡¯t know much about others, but me? After mom and dad passed, I had to fight for everything. Be it keeping a part-time job while walking around on a broken leg, protecting my food as I was walking home, or fighting off some bastard, just out and about and looking for trouble.¡±


    "I-I didn''t know it was that bad," Simons stammered.


    "People have different lives. To me it''s normal."


    Ronin ended the conversation there, quickly entering the VR-chamber. It was one thing to talk about the injuries he''d gotten before acquiring the Potentia Panorama, but if Simons began asking about the other more recent scars, such as the white patches left behind after getting shot by laser fire? Yeah, things could get complicated real fast.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As he sank into the chamber, it didn''t take long for his entire body to be submerged.


    [Initializing integration¡­ 3¡­2¡­1]


    The nutrient fluid around him changed into the familiar pre-interstellar era stone floor and he walked over to the red velvet chair.


    [Welcome Inevitability.]


    He selected the game ¡°Glory in the Arena¡± and entered.


    The familiar arena rose up as the hot sun bathed his body. He crouched down and scooped up a handful of sand from the arena floor. As the bloodstained sand fell through his fingers, teeth and nails became visible.


    Ronin thought about the time his apartment was blown up. After he¡¯d blacked out, the voice in the dark had talked about the ladder of ascension, the fields of strife.


    That voice might be right, he thought as he looked at the nails and teeth. In a sense, this really is the fields of strife¡­


    He queued up for a match.


    Ylestri Ivannos floated through the illustrious hallway as she made her way back towards her room. Ahead, servants bowed their heads as she approached.


    ¡°Young mistress,¡± the first said as she passed.


    ¡°Young mistress,¡± another one echoed.


    It was all the same. She really only had 3 people she could speak to frankly. Her father, her mother and her uncle. Anyone else either treated her as someone to scheme against, or as some sort of holy creature. Being only 47 years old, she still had 15 more years before she could be given any sort of real responsibility. It didn¡¯t stop anyone else from treating her like a god though. Reaching her room, she immediately headed for her VR-capsule and entered her favorite game, ¡°Glory in the Arena.¡±


    [Welcome Sleeping Empress]


    To start off, she entered spectator mode looking to see if there were any interesting matches going on. She spotted a name: Thousand Palms-3. Weren¡¯t those guys supposed to be in the diamond league? Why was he currently in the silver league, and his rank was dropping? What was going on?


    She¡¯d fought Thousand palms-1 before and had struggled quite a bit before beating him. Could this Thousand Palms-3 be a fake?


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Curious, she entered the match, watching the battle from one of the seats in the colosseum. There were quite a few others here as well, commenting back and forth as they watched the fight. Upon seeing the two combatants, she couldn¡¯t help but blurt out: ¡°What!? There¡¯s two of them!?¡±


    The two combatants were practically mirror images of each other. Every move, gesture and cadence were the same.


    ¡°They¡¯ve been going at it for almost an hour now,¡± a man next to her commented. ¡°In the beginning, Inevitability kept losing, but the Thousand Palms guy kept requesting rematches, insulted that someone would try to beat him with his own style.¡±


    ¡°And this... Inevitability, how long did it take him to start winning?¡± She asked, fascinated.


    ¡°After about 7 matches, this... COUGH! battle of pride I guess? began turning in Inevitability¡¯s favor, but I don¡¯t think Thousand Palms-3 would agree, he keeps requesting rematch after rematch despite losing each and every one,¡± the man laughed.


    Another rematch was about to begin. She watched in wonder how this man called Inevitability, mirrored the famous Koshijutsu style, striking pressure points one by one in the same manner all the other Thousand Palms did. As the battle raged, the opponent became more and more crippled, eventually leading to another win for Inevitability.


    Interesting¡­ he might be special... special like her... Interesting indeed.


    She sent him a friend request, which was automatically blocked right after.


    ¡°I would have expected as much,¡± She murmured, having also used the automatic block function herself as she climbed the ladder. But she was a challenger now, and that meant having certain privileges when it came to this sort of thing. Using her status, she forced the friend request.


    [You have been forcibly befriended by challenger Sleeping Empress]


    ¡°Huh?¡± Ronin, baffled, looked at the new name in his friends list.


    ¡°Was something like that even possible?¡± He said to himself as he returned to the lobby. He¡¯d been issued another rematch by the pressure point guy, but this... forceful befriending was so distracting, he¡¯d failed to respond before the timer ran out.


    Staring at the new name in his friends list, he waited, then, waited some more. There were no messages, no requests for battle, nothing. Shaking his head, he queued up for another match. There were still a few hours to go before his brain gassed out.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The next few days were spent on filling out the framework of the cargo ship''s lower hull. Aerogel intermixed with polarized nanofilms were first glued into the hull as a matter of extra protection. Wires were connected to the films in order to generate electromagnetic fields which would protect the ship from radiation during interplanetary trips. After finishing with the aerogel, more, thin metallic plates with grooves fitted in were then laid over, allowing for new cables to be easily laid down. These cables, when connected up to the central power system, would power anything from thrusters to the gravitic shock absorbers in the inertial dampener system.


    Getting the electronics right was crucial and hours upon hours were spent on double-, and sometimes triple checking their work. Both Ronin and Simons learned much, and by the time the exams were but a night away, they''d finished installing most of the lower hull¡¯s internals. They¡¯d done so well they''d even begun printing the components that would later be used to build the ship''s sleeping quarters.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Waking up early, Ronin checked his implant. It was time. The exams were about to begin. He walked up to the now more modest looking Heromaker suit, put it on, then ordered a security detail. With a bounty of 3 million credits, he''d eventually bitten the proverbial bullet and begun investing more in security. It kind of defeated the purpose of having military grade turrets at the factory if he flew around using everyday normal commuter shuttles.


    In short order, the security detail arrived, and he was swiftly driven to the academy. After arriving, he, along with the other students, was led down under one of the academy¡¯s study halls. Walking down the stairs in the brightly lit white corridor, the smell of nanitic sterility tainted the air, evidenced by the faint scent of ozone.


    There would be no cheating today. Nanitic disinfectants killed anything small and mechanical. Every little spying gadget that reached out, would soon discover that its electromagnetic touch was a two-way bridge to far more than the expected cheat sheet.


    Fortunately, my implant is well protected behind my eye, Ronin thought as he felt the hairs along his arms rise from the electrical field silently crackling through the corridor.


    As the procession of students came to halt, the man leading the group, Principal Armstrong, opened a special access door and the white of the hallway was replaced by an expansive dark room, denoted by numerous circular depressions, lit up in neon blue.


    The principal turned towards the students. ¡°Each of you, walk into your respective exam pits.¡±


    As the group of nervous students began moving into the room, Ronin, following closely behind, opened up the interface on his Uninet-2000. Instead of the Concordia Network, the only thing available was a version of the academy''s local net. With a nudge of his head, he established a connection, and a virtual path lit up along the floor, showing him his respective exam pit.


    Entering the 2-meters deep pit, he noticed all surrounding sound disappearing and a flat, slightly robotic voice began asking questions. ¡°What are the key practical differences between quantum teleportation and spatial folding when traveling faster than light?¡±


    Ronin thought about it for a moment¡­ This question was actually rather easy! ¡°Quantum teleportation has severe restrictions on having a stable environment. It has to be done at specific space stations, placed along clean Lagrange points, of which, there are few. Our own solar system only has one such place. Further, in order to teleport, your own station needs to link up to the station at the place you want to travel to. This makes it impossible to use quantum teleportation if you want to travel to a new undeveloped system. Space folding drives has none of those issues and can be used almost anywhere. They are, however, slower, their fuel is more expensive, and they spend more of it. Simply put, quantum jumps are cheap but restrictive, whereas space folding is expensive but free.¡±


    A blue text box appeared along the wall of the pit, typing down every word he''d just said. He pressed the ¡°Finalize¡± button and the flat voice began asking a new question.


    This went on for hours and Ronin was asked about anything from FTL theory to which programming language to use when processing raw sensory data. Fortunately, despite the exam being long and tedious, most questions proved easy to answer, and after solving a final equation on orbital dynamics, he was quickly given his exam results:


    <hr>


    Candidate: Ronin Maximus


    MAT 1002: mathematics of orbital dynamics:   A


    PHYD 1032: introduction to sub-light propulsion:   A


    PHYD 1045: introduction to FTL engines:    A


    SPD 101: introduction to spaceship construction:   A


    INF: 1003: Introduction to spacecraft programming languages: B


    MAT: 233: Partial differential equations:    A


    PHYS: 220: Introduction to materials science:   B


    SPD 102: Spaceship construction, addon course: A


    <hr>


    Having done twice as many courses as everyone else, he was one of the last out of the pit.


    [Got an A in every course!] Simons¡¯ text pinged him as he exited the building.


    [See, told you we should prioritize ship building! Got sort of the same result myself,] Ronin texted back, before immediately receiving a voice call. Simons¡¯ animated hologram immediately popped up in front of his face. [DID YOU GET THE MYTHICAL S-GRADE!?].


    Ronin, rolling his eyes, groaned back, [No I didn¡¯t, and for the love of The Void, would you calm down?]


    [Anastasia got an S in introduction to spaceship construction!] Simons continued, most definitely not calmed down.


    [Hmm, figured] Ronin nodded back. [She keeps scoring points in every class, if anyone was going to get an S-grade, it would be her.]


    [We need to get that grade Ronin! What if Anastasia gets it next semester as well, and we don''t? We''d be left in the dust!]


    [Yeah yeah sure, anyways, let¡¯s talk later back at the factory,] Ronin finished before ending the call.


    As for the S-grade? He didn¡¯t particularly care either way. Although an S-grade was impressive, what he wanted, was first and foremost to design spaceships. Answering questions in class and hoarding in extra points was not really all that important in the grand scheme of things. What he needed from the academy was knowledge, and on that note, he''d just passed the exams and there were now 8 new courses available!

 Chapter 27: Rat Revealed

    So, despite antimatter drives being known as one of the most efficient engines out there, most smaller ships instead prefer combustion based xenofuel? Ronin thought as he read the document, one of his latest bounties from his recently completed exams.


    Xenofuel, something only found in the sea of shattered stars at the edge of human expansion, functioned much like oil from the age of old. It was primitive, but somehow packed so much energy, it, in certain cases even beat out antimatter. In contrast to most other energy sources, it decreased in price the closer you got to the frontier. That is to say, on Concordia, xenofuel was the go-to source of energy if you wanted a fast ship.


    From his resting spot along the bed, Ronin glanced over to his right. The partially constructed cargo ship stood there like a lumbering giant. Soon it would be ready to carry heavy loads to wherever its driver desired. What would some xenofuel do for this thing? The strain from the acceleration alone, would tear the ship apart. As for driving slowly on xenofuel? It''ll just be a waste of credit.


    Ronin¡¯s expanded mind immediately did the calculations. He knew the answer almost the moment he asked the question. Cargo ships were only sturdy and reliable when driven at normal speeds.


    The 10-meters long hulking ship only lacked an air lock, an engine and a cockpit now. He felt a budding smile forming along the corners of his lips. Only one or two good sessions left now, and the ship will be done.


    Rising up, Ronin did a long stretch, raising his arms towards the ceiling, then went to work. Walking up to the 3-D printer, he began printing engine parts. The engine, being a scaled down version of the established Westein series, was one of the easier ones to build. The Westein company had been around for over a century and their fusion drives, though not the fastest, nor strongest, lasted forever. They were easy to maintain and used common parts that could be found anywhere.


    As part after part came out of the printer, Ronin walked back and forth between the printing station and the control station. Holding the handheld multiscanner, he scanned every component before he printed a new one. Some of the components were so small, he had to redo them a couple of times after they came out a few micrometers too long or short. There were many parts to account for, but he stuck to the blueprint and made good time.


    After around 4 hours, he was done, and every part was printed and ready.


    Ronin moved over to the assembler control panel and activated the conveyor belt. The drive parts began moving along the belt and he gripped two of the virtual levers, moving around the assembler arms. It was time to begin putting this thing together!


    ¡°...¡±


    2 hours later, and he was standing before a perfectly functional fusion drive. Between wires, magnets, heat buffers and more, the engine had represented quite the puzzle. Unlike with the outer hull plating, this was actually detailed work. To think that just 3 months ago, Simons spent just under 3 hours putting together a KGC-fusion reactor... Though I''m not sure which of the two engines is easier to build, at that time, I didn''t even know how to operate an assembler. Ronin had improved, if he dared say so himself.


    ¡°Hey! Why did you start without me?¡± A clear voice rang throughout the factory.


    ¡°Hey man, it¡¯s only the engine, ok? I haven¡¯t even put it into the ship yet,¡± Ronin said, holding up his hands defensively.


    ¡°Always working when I¡¯m not around, it¡¯s as if he''s doing it on purpose,¡± the figure grumbled. Ronin only heard it thanks to his enhanced hearing.


    Seeing the angry bulbous man making his way over, Ronin just couldn¡¯t help himself:


    ¡°Hey Simons,¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    Ronin, with a mischievous grin, held up two fingers, then mouthed out each word slowly: ¡°Two hours.¡±


    Simons, knowing Ronin, knew exactly what he meant by that gesture.


    ¡°Bastard, now you''re just angering me on purpose!¡±


    ¡°Hehehe, what are you talking about?¡± Ronin asked innocently, trying, and failing to suppress his laughter.


    ¡°Defiler, you know that my record on fusion drive assembly is 2 and a half hours! If you keep acting like that, I¡¯ll tell everyone it was you who stank out The Happy Pearl!¡±


    ¡°Ok, hold on now, I¡¯m only joking, only joking! No need to escalate like that. You can build the cockpit if you¡¯d like? That would be an even bigger job than the engine.¡±


    Receiving a grunt in response, Ronin had a few bots help him bring the Westein drive into the ship as Simons made his way over to the 3D-printer.


    After entering the ship, he followed the bots until they reached the engineering deck. As the bots gently placed down the engine, he entered the room, hooked up the fuel injector, and began connecting cables. If he had to be honest with himself, calling this an engineering deck was a little like sprinkling a nutrient bar over a rock and calling it food. It was really just a small room, sectioned off at the end of the cargo bay.


    Most of the cables were already clearly marked, so in short order the engine was installed, then firmly secured to the floor with the help of a power tool. The only thing left now was the airlock. He thought of his last ship, the Hemsway-D8, which, not long ago, had been ruthlessly stolen away, right outside district 101. Yeah, I¡¯m not letting that happen again, not with this ship.


    In order to protect his ship from thieves, he''d need an anti-intrusion system, and an anti-intrusion system needed weapons. Though making weapons was generally illegal, both his factory and his uncle had a security system with plenty of weapons installed. There clearly was a way for companies to get weapons in spite of them being illegal to most commoners. Perhaps¡­


    Accessing the Concordia net, he searched up the various regulations on this and low and behold, after a little bit of looking, he found a loophole. According to the law, it was possible for certain types of companies to not only have weapons, but to make them. As for his own company, Maximum Solutions? Just the right type. He could even make weapons if he wanted. He''d need a permit first though. Also, every weapon made, had to be registered and tracked. If he bought a weapon, he''d need to report it. If he made a weapon and sold it to the wrong people? Well, he''d be in some DEEP trouble.


    He wasn''t planning on selling weapons though; he was going to use them himself.


    Using the company name, he sent an application for a weapons permit. That only left an intruder detection system. He thought back on the day he first visited Nagata, as several turrets descended the moment he touched the man''s front door¡­ Wouldn¡¯t that be something. The moment a thief breaks into my airlock, a turret descends and begins blasting.


    He quickly found his uncle''s contact ID and made a call.


    The fog blanketing the dusky streets thinned as lights from rapidly moving monowheels began illuminating the desolate slum. As the electrically powered bikes drove out from a nearby tunnel, the sound of large singular wheels, rapidly rolling across concrete could be heard next. Finally, as the bikes approached further, the several men riding the bikes became visible. Covered in black market bionics and tattoos, it was evident that these men, were not men of the law. And leading the charge, was a bulky, blond-haired figure, noticeably different from the rest. His body had a clear lack of both tattoos and bionics, and though he''d normally wear a confident expression, right now, his face was tense.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Argus never liked traveling this way. He¡¯d been recognized as a king before, and his words had been law. The underworld had belonged to him, but then that man had appeared. Like out of the ether, he''d snatched everything, like it was nothing. Everything that had once belonged to Argus, suddenly, now belonged to that man. Argus still felt shivers travelling down his back when he thought about those days. How unstoppable Specter had been. This road was a constant reminder of that past.


    As they drove along, an eerie silence pressed down on the gang, muffling their will to go on. This heavy atmosphere, led to a subconscious release off the gas pedal and their bikes slowed down. As the slower speed made the surrounding streets more visible, several men and women could be seen. They were all bound and dragged along by Isamellos and his crew. All moving in the same direction. The heart of this place. Specter''s lair.


    Eventually, Argus''s group arrived in front of a large facility, and one by one, the group parked their bikes and entered the building.


    After a short 5-minute walk, Argus left his men behind. They weren''t allowed past this point.


    As he traversed the last few corridors of the building, more and more guards could be seen along the walls, watching his every step.


    Eventually, he found himself in front of an old familiar door. Only he and Isamellos was allowed past this point...


    ¡°Argus, you¡¯ve come,¡± a voice from above spoke as he entered the room.


    He bent over in a deep bow, eyes locked onto the gray metal floor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the delay master.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s the war?¡± the voice asked, seemingly satisfied with his act of subservience.


    ¡°We¡¯re doing well. The CLM has been halted and we are now in the process of pushing them back¡±


    ¡°Very well, and that other matter?¡±


    Argus felt the tension seize him. This was it. Would he make it out? Before the mounting fear could break his composure, he spoke.


    ¡°The brat is still alive. The 3 million credits bounty is not enough.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, you couldn¡¯t do it? Well, why didn''t you raise the bounty?¡±


    Through gritted teeth, Argus pushed out each word: ¡°We¡¯re, fighting, a war¡­ we need, the money.¡±


    The dark room seemed to become even darker and a rising killing intent broke Argus''s composure. He began shivering as Specter spoke.


    ¡°I¡¯ve changed my mind¡­ you will capture that brat alive instead. Pay whatever it takes. You will also win the war... And Argus?"


    "Y-Yes?"


    "Cut off a finger."


    There it was. The punishment.


    Argus took out a small knife, placed his left hand on the floor, then pressed down the knife.


    "You are lucky to still have your life Argus, but my grace is not endless¡­ Do not fail me again.¡±


    With gritted teeth, Argus rose up, then left the room, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he walked. He really hated this place.


    [Alright, I¡¯ll send over a few tactile sensors. Meanwhile, here, take a look at this information package. There should be enough data on the sensors here for you to install them on your own.] Nagata said over the holoscreen.


    Ronin nodded back in appreciation. [Thank you.]


    [Sorry for not having a blueprint for them. Blueprints cost way more than their worth, especially for me.] Nagata gave a slight shrug in apology, but to Ronin, the eccentric uncle had already done more than enough.


    [No worries. I¡¯ll get those blueprints on my own later. Right now, I just need a defense system for the new ship we¡¯re building.]


    Ronin wasn¡¯t in any particular hurry and had plenty of time to look for sensor blueprints on his own. But why wait? He was so close to finishing the ship! He also really wanted to try integrating new sensors into the airlock. In a way, this would be his first modification to a design, ever. He couldn''t wait to get started.


    Suddenly, Nagata''s expression changed, [Ronin? Have you checked the latest update from the trackers you injected into Argus?]


    [No¡­] Ronin mumbled, accessing the site recording the nanites transmissions.


    Then he saw it. The conversation between Specter and Argus. He checked the accompanying locational data, to see where the two had been when they talked. A map opened up, showing Argus''s position, but¡­ the blinking red dot, representing Argus, showed him as being inside the ground. Wherever Argus was, this was not a place covered by any of the maps he knew. What in the world?


    [How do you plan to do this?] Nagata asked.


    [Well based on this,] Ronin said, pointing at the virtual map, [I think it¡¯s obvious I¡¯d have to do some scouting first, but before any of that, why do you have access to my site? I''m the only person who''s supposed to be able to use it!]


    [Before any of that, may I suggest hiring help before going through with this?] Nagata said, smoothly brushing over the issue.


    [Hrmh,] Ronin grumbled, he really didn¡¯t like being spied on. I guess he¡¯s called Psyrat for a reason. But what did he say? Hire help? Where was Nagata going with this? Now he was curious, [what do you mean?] Ronin asked.


    [Despite your more recent... advantages,] Nagata began, [Specter is in a league of his own, and you¡¯re alone. Why not hire mercenaries? You have the money. I can help you look for a reliable group if you want?]


    Ronin thought about it for a moment. There weren¡¯t really any downsides to hiring help. He¡¯d have to keep his identity hidden, and it would cost him, but his recent technique, Presenceless, had been seen through by Argus. What then about Specter, who was said to be even more dangerous? Further, what if he chose to attack Specter''s facility directly, and he encountered a security system equal to, or greater than his own?


    Yeah, not taking that risk, he thought.


    [Alright, you look for a reliable agency while I do the scouting, but don¡¯t hire anyone before I''m done, ok?]


    Nagata nodded, then closed the call.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As Nagata searched for mercenaries, Ronin walked over to the design studio and began going over the airlock design. He had to somehow modify the blueprint to allow for the installation of tactile sensors.


    He began by increasing the thickness of the airlock door as well as the floor by a few millimeters. This way, he could install pressure plates without reducing the integrity of the airlock. The extra weight of the door led to its automatic opening and locking mechanism needing a little extra power, but he could easily solve that.


    It was the same with the overall balance of the ship, which would have become slightly tilted towards the side due to the extra metal. But in both cases, the changes he¡¯d need to make to the design were so small, he barely had to do anything at all. In fact, if he just left it as it is, the cargo ship, although it wouldn''t be running at optimal efficiency, would fly just fine. Cargo ships were built with this kind of redundancy in mind in the first place.


    The increased height of the airlock floor however¡­Yeah, that would cause some problems.


    He¡¯d have to change the height of the walls, the elevation of the wires embedded into the walls and the height of the airlock door. There was also the extra wires and electronics needed to run both the sensor system, and the weapon system.


    I''m only changing the airlock and it''s already getting this complicated¡­ How hard would it be to design a ship from the bottom up?! No wonder there''s so few real designers out there!


    Ronin could feel his excitement rising! This was exactly the kind of challenge he yearned for. And in the future, there were no limits to how difficult he could make this for himself.


    He looked over at Simons who was still busy printing cockpit components. With the continual increase in intelligence he¡¯d been getting from the Kalvrakian Embrace, who knows what he¡¯d be able to make in the future?


    As he saw Simons fumbling a component, then begin reprinting it, he thought, we just might be in for the journey of a lifetime buddy.


    He dove into the design work, carefully studying the blueprint. Then, after making a few alterations, he plugged the changed design into the simulation program.


    The holoscreen lit up as he was asked the question:


    [Run simulation? Yes/No]


    With a big grin plastered across his face, Ronin answered: "Yes!"

 Chapter 28: Hammers of Fortune

    Standing in front of a large holoscreen, Ronin once again ran a virtual stress test of the new airlock design.


    [Modification equals 96% of original blueprints performance. Expand for more details?]


    For a mere airlock to reduce the overall capability of the entire ship by 4% is a bit much... Ronin scratched the back of his head, thinking for a moment, then changed the small projectile based turret he¡¯d been using with a laser-based one instead.


    [Modification equals 95 % of original blueprints performance. Expand for more details?]


    The performance went down by 1%? Oh right, lasers require more electrical power. Frowning, he began changing out wires. He also had to move around some of the existing wires, but eventually, the airlock design was¡ªfor maybe the 100th time today¡ªredesigned and modified. Here goes nothing! He promptly loaded the design into the simulation program and ran the test.


    [Modification equals 98% of original blueprints performance. Expand for more details?]


    He''d finally gotten something above 96%! Hastily voicing out a ¡°yes!¡±, he watched as the simulation data began appearing on screen. A wall of text with hundreds of figures intermixed began slowly scrolling past his eyes. Be it various forms of analyses, graphs or stress test models, he ignored them, continuing his search. This was not what he was after.


    Finally, half-way down the document, he found what he was looking for and tapped the air. Promptly, the holoscreen changed, and everything else disappeared. Only the data on the laser-based turret was left now:


    <hr>


    Double-Barreled Lasgun Turret:


    - Estimated reload time: 2 seconds.


    - Firing rate: 60 shots per minute.


    - Penetration grade: Level 3 delta energy


    Modelled performance at - 100%


    <hr>


    It would have to do. He could probably increase the overall percentage more. Perhaps by half a percent, from 98% to 98.5%? But after redesigning and virtually debugging the airlock blueprint for who knows how long, he¡¯d had enough.


    With a penetration grade of level 3 delta energy, the laser turret was capable of burning through most metals. Even his obscenely expensive Heromaker suit would soon find its armor melted into slag with this gun. Provided it didn¡¯t have the shield active of course.


    Losing 2% of overall ship performance in exchange for a security system like this, was well worth it in his eyes. The next thief thinking they can steal from me will be in for a rude awakening, he snickered to himself. If they thought they could steal this cargo ship like they did his Hemsway, he¡¯d welcome them to try!


    As for getting a weapons manufacturing permit? The government had practically thrown one at him. Not even a full day had passed before he received the notification. It was quite surprising how fast the government would give out permits when they thought you were a big company.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty much done with the cockpit, you¡¯re the only one left holding us back now,¡± Simons commented as he walked over.


    ¡°Take a look at this.¡± Ronin gestured at the new design.


    ¡°W-we can make, weapons?¡± Wide eyed, Simons looked back and forth between Ronin and the holoscreen.


    ¡°Naturally! Any respectable company can do this,¡± Ronin bragged. He¡¯d only just gotten the permit today, but Simons didn''t need to know that.


    ¡°A double barreled lasgun turret¡­¡± his thin necked employee murmured.


    ¡°We can build it together if you¡¯d like?¡±


    Ronin didn¡¯t mind sharing.


    The air around Simons changed as the bald youth seemed to gain a sense of dignity.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Simons said, clearing his throat. ¡°What spaceship designer doesn¡¯t know how to build weapon systems? We can¡¯t let our future customers fly around in space defenseless.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Ronin exclaimed, flashing a grin while giving Simons a couple of hearty claps on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll start printing first, while you use the multiscanner. Let¡¯s switch every 30 minutes or so?¡±


    After receiving a nod from Simons in response, they headed over towards the printer.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The duo busied themselves with the framework of the airlock first, printing out the modified design. This was the easy part, and in short order, the freshly printed pieces were steadily traveling down the conveyor belt. Next came the hydraulics and electronics¡ªRonin scanned those. Work became a little harder, but they''d both done this kind of printing plenty of times before. After a short couple of hours, those parts were moving around on the conveyor belt as well.


    Finally, it was time for the hard part.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never made something like this before, not even at home,¡± Simons muttered as he looked over the laser turret blueprint. It was the only thing left now... the lasgun.


    ¡°This is how we learn. Not everything can be learned from someone else, or read in some step-by-step guide,¡± Ronin commented, shaking his head.


    ¡°Yeah, I know that¡­ I just didn¡¯t think it¡¯d happen so soon, you know?¡±


    A short silence followed as they both just stared at the blueprint. Ronin''s learning experience had been vastly different from Simons. He''d had no private printer at his home growing up. No father to teach him the ropes. But... he still sort of understood Simons''s sentiment... Making weapons, was something else entirely...


    "This is really happening, isn''t it?" Simons muttered, breaking the silence.


    "What are you getting so melodramatic for?" With a smirk, Ronin bumped Simons on the arm, tilting his head slightly before asking, "now what do you say? Ready to make some weapons?¡±


    A decisive glint flashed past Simons''s eyes as he nodded. ¡°Yeah, let''s do this.¡±


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The lasgun was based on fiber optic technology and rare earth element doping. All the elements required to make this was something any normal factory would naturally have in storage. One would think you''d have to make some kind of special order or acquire some specific material before making a weapon, but nope, besides the permit, there really wasn''t much else.


    As part after part was printed, one micrometer at a time, the advantages of having a more precise 3-D printer quickly came into play. Some components¡ªsuch as the fiber optic rod¡ªwere extremely demanding on how precise their dimensions had to be. If you were but a micrometer off, you''d have to do it all over again. Still, despite having a good printer, getting the dimensions right, wasn''t exactly easy.


    The increasingly larger pile of defective parts kept growing as they worked. Fortunately, however, there wasn''t actually that much they had to print. The lasgun, at most, couldn''t weigh more than a few kilograms. And as time passed, it didn''t take long before only the capacitors were left. They''d now reached the dangerous part of the printing process.


    Ronin and Simons made sure to have a chamber ready for emergency ejections should one of the capacitors explode. The insulating material in the capacitor had to be perfect. With the amount of current required to fire a high-powered laser, the slightest imperfection would rapidly cause the capacitor to overheat. In other words, BOOM!


    Fortunately, despite having a few close calls, they were extremely careful, and no explosions occurred.


    After every part was manufactured, Ronin and Simons quickly assembled the framework. With both of them working together, both hydraulics and wires were swiftly fitted as well. The weapons system took a little longer, but not by much. Within half an hour, all that was left to do, was to test the lasgun...


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Hiding behind a cargo container, the two professional designers watched as a small bot began heading towards the airlock.


    In between nervous laughs, Simons asked: ¡°Are you sure this is ok? Bots cost money, you know?¡±


    ¡°Hehehe, just wait and watch. Wait¡­ and watch.¡±


    Ronin, just as giddy as Simons, waited in nervous anticipation as the bot got closer and closer to the airlock.


    The bot crossed the final few meters up the ramp, then entered. In swift response, the sound of moving gears followed, and the turret descended from the roof, blasting the bot with burning light. The bot made a series of stuttering sounds, then fell over, a large, melted hole appearing through its center mass.


    ¡°Dude! That was awesome!¡± Simons exclaimed, being uncharacteristically informal.


    ¡°Right!?¡± Ronin, while fervently nodding along, began looking around the factory. Now, what else do we have here that we can test?


    ¡°Ooh! I know!" He erupted.


    "What?" Simons asked, eyes still wide in excitement.


    "Let¡¯s have a bot throw something into the airlock!¡±


    Whatever inhibitions his big friend had had before, they were long gone by now, and the duo eagerly started looking for something for a new bot to throw.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Having, Cough, thoroughly tested the weapons system, it was time to paint the ship. Ronin walked over to the assembler and picked a color. He chose dark green as the base for the ship. Dozens of spray guns activated and began coloring. Next, he chose a grayish colored paint, painting every blocky, rectangular part on the hull that stuck out.


    To finish it off, he moved one of the assembler arms to the left side of the ship and wrote, in big black letters: Heidenreich-B786.


    Now, there¡¯s only one little thing left to do before its done, he thought.


    The next step might be small, but it made up for that with significance. Walking up to the 3-D printer, he printed a mechanically engraved plate in brass. Taking the plate, he walked up the ramp and entered the freshly painted ship. With a few quick steps, he was in the cockpit. Finding a suitable spot under the captain''s seat, he brought out a power tool, then drilled the plate in place.


    Ronin looked at the words imprinted into the brass plate, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction as he read them.


    [Manufacturer: Maximus Solutions, Ronin Maximus & Bartholomew Simons]


    Now... it''s done.


    As for test flying the ship? I might be able to handle a small Hemsway without a license, but this thing?


    There was no way he¡¯d risk it. He was a designer, not a pilot, and there were limits to what one could do with only an instruction manual as guidance. He asked Simons to find him a test driver, changed his appearance, then left for district 101. With the ship done, it was time to do some reconnaissance.


    After reaching out to his various contacts, Nagata searched everywhere he could think of. Eventually, through the collaboration with an old hacker buddy of his, he¡¯d found a group that fit. The Hammers of Fortune. They were expensive but had a reputation of keeping their word. Unlike other mercenary companies, they didn''t flee or abandon jobs, even when the fighting got tough.


    Normally they''d do war commissions. Be it sabotaging military installations, surveillance, or taking out high value targets, they did it all. But lately, they¡¯d hit a bit of a dry spot and were resting over at planet Hartheim while waiting for the next war.


    It will cost him, but I¡¯ll be damned if I let another family member pass like 3 years ago. If push comes to shove, I¡¯ll pay for it myself, Nagata thought.


    He sent them a request, then began arranging for a meeting.


    After scouring around district 101 for what must have been over an hour, Ronin finally found the tunnel entrance. It lined up with the path Argus had taken and was heavily guarded, so it was likely the path to the Ghost Butcher.


    Activating Presenceless, Ronin ran past the guard posts and entered the tunnel. He grumbled inwardly, by the number of times I¡¯ve been to this district by now, it¡¯s beginning to feel like a second home¡­


    The tunnel was pretty much empty and dark, and had it not been for his enhanced sight, he would have been running blind in this place. As he ran, he looked for traps, signs of surveillance, anything. There was nothing¡­ Only the empty echoes of his own footsteps accompanied him.


    Eventually he reached the other side, but aside from various shacks and buildings, there was nothing here either. No people. At least the space feels more open, he thought. Checking the locational data he¡¯d gotten off Argus, he moved along the streets. The eerie silence continued for several minutes as he moved. Then he heard something...


    step, step, step...


    It was faint, but it sounded like footsteps? He moved closer, quietly following the sounds.


    Then he saw it. Ahead, there was a long procession of people, slowly making their way forward.


    With care, he snuck up even closer. He could make out more details now. The people making up the procession were all bound and chained. Everyone, besides the guards watching them, were bruised and scarred. All had empty eyes, looking as if they¡¯d lost all hope. Ronin just stared... These people didn''t talk, laugh, look around, nothing. They simply walked... slowly, step by step, shuffling their way forward. What in the world?


    He followed them.


    As the procession trudged along the empty streets, eventually something changed. Guards began appearing. Next, Ronin started noticing turrets and mines. Things were beginning to get a little dicey. He closed his eyes and imagined the foul energy escaping the fractal gate, whispering, ¡°apocalypse,¡± and the mental image formed. This should distract the guards for a while.


    Making it past another couple of buildings, he spotted a large facility. Protected by embankments with heavy lasers installed every 15 meters, this had to be it. The location of this place also fit the data he¡¯d gotten off Argus. He sighed to himself, yeah, it seems hiring mercenaries was the right call all along. There¡¯s no way I can take on something like this alone.

 Chapter 29: Blood for blood I

    ¡°Here''s the data I¡¯ve been able to gather on the targets,¡± a man fully clad in power armor said over the holoscreen.


    ¡°Hmm, I see,¡± a figure replied back. The dark room somewhat hid the figure''s face, but some features were too distinct for even this room to hide. The spotty gray hair and an old burn wound¡ªcovering half the man''s face¡ªtold a story involving many years of military service.


    The data package he¡¯d just been sent was detailed, more so than usual. It spread out before him like a holographic map, showing the buildings they¡¯d been asked to hit. The map also displayed the locations of various defensive installations, as well as the locations of a number of guards.


    Studying the map like an old practiced general, the scarred man commented, ¡°from how well these two facilities are fortified, and the amount of hostiles we¡¯re expected to encounter, I estimate this job would cost about 16-20 million Tar credits.¡±


    The man in the 3 meters tall power armor stayed silent for a while, then nodded, ¡°I¡¯m fine with that, but, -¡± he raised an arm, closing finger after finger until only one remained. ¡°There is one condition I¡¯d like to raise for such a high price. Classify the operation as black.¡±


    Captain Dravenic thought about it for a moment. If the operation was classified as black, and they bailed, they¡¯d lose their reputation as mercenaries forever. He¡¯d have to dissolve the company, but... this was a lot of money¡­


    ¡°We¡¯ll do some of our own surveillance of the two sites, if it is as your report claims, we have ourselves a deal,¡± he finally said.


    After hammering out a few more details regarding this new, and potentially very lucrative job, the connection was cut, and he walked out from the transmissions center. Before him was the naked sky, the warm embrace of a red tinted sun, and vast fields of crops stretching as far as the eye could see.


    As the grains ahead swayed like waves upon an endless ocean, he shouted to his comrades, ¡°everyone! Vacation is over! We¡¯ve just landed ourselves a big one boys!¡±


    Men sitting beside campfires, upon weapon crates and besides shuttles began standing up and making their way over.


    ¡°After this job, we¡¯ll be set for years. We¡¯re all getting paid after this one! Now, it¡¯s a one-week job, we do a little scouting first, and if it looks good, we launch a full operation and make our money. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°Specifics?¡± one of the men asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re taking out a couple of crime lords at their homes. Anyone else?¡±


    ¡°When do we leave?¡± Another asked.


    Chuckles and laughter could be heard amongst the company, whilst Captain Dravenic only smiled. He looked over at his men, all 278 of them, then shouted, ¡°Now, who¡¯s ready to make some money!?¡±


    The air seemed to boil, and like a volcanic eruption, every single one of his battle brothers shouted in unison, ¡°YEAAHHH!!!¡±


    It was time. Time for the Hammers of Fortune to once again enter the storm.


    Ronin had to wait three days before the mercenaries confirmed they¡¯d do the job and were ready to move. They¡¯d been informed that he would join the assault, and he was currently sitting in the back of the Heidenreich¡¯s cargo bay.


    The Hammers of Fortune had happily made the deal. In exchange for driving Ronin out, the mercenary company had been allowed to borrow his cargo ship for the duration of the mission. They''d said something about needing the extra space for the transport of certain mission critical components.


    Ronin didn¡¯t mind, the ship shouldn¡¯t see much fighting anyways, being stationed at the back lines and all.


    As the Hammers headed for the chute leading to district 101, Ronin heard the captain of the company speak over the intercom, [We¡¯re approaching the conflict zone. Expect some light engagements after we enter. But stay alert! The closer to the targets we get, the tougher the fighting will be!]


    Ronin checked his warsuits HUD, and a virtual model of the suit began rotating before him. Lit up in bright green, the model showed the suit as undamaged.


    It was a handy feature, if Ronin had to say so himself. Instead of having to study a stat sheet in the middle of combat, you¡¯d see parts of the model change from green to yellow when the suit was damaged¡ªor red when broken.


    Ronin¡¯s eyes shifted over towards his weapons loadout. The HUD showed him as having 5 fragmentation grenades, 20 shoulder mounted missiles, 2 knee-mounted scatter-missiles and two rapid fire lasers in his arms. His right arm also had something called an ion plasma blaster, whatever that meant.


    He hadn¡¯t properly tested this suit before this. In fact, he¡¯d planned to modify it, it being illegal and all. Now he was thankful he hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As the ship reached the 40 meters deep chute, then entered, the direction of gravity shifted. Ronin grabbed a handle on the wall, attempting to stabilize himself. While cursing himself for not having installed better internal dampeners, the ship, now flying completely vertically, continued on downwards...


    Finally, the ship righted itself again and the sounds of explosions began rumbling out ahead.


    [Minor contact up front. Proceed as planned,] the captain said over the intercom.


    The strike force continued on as the sounds of fighting outside became louder and louder. After some time, Ronin felt the ship begin to slow down, and soft sounds of machinery began reverberating throughout the hull. There was a release of gas, movements of hydraulics, before finally, with a deep clang, the ship touched down.


    Ronin rose up, walked over towards the airlock, then began descending down the ramp.


    ¡°After clearing out the guard station, we¡¯re only left with some minor skirmishes on this side. We¡¯re pretty much ready to go!¡± a man shouted, running up besides Ronin.


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    Around them, scattered laser beams lit up the fog and sounds of projectile fire could be heard.


    Giving a curt nod in response, Ronin asked, ¡°the tunnel, is it secure?¡±


    ¡°Yeap, all that''s left is to move on through, though we will have to leave some ships behind. There''s no way all of them will fit through that gap.¡± The man looked Ronin up and down before chuckling, ¡°if you were any bigger, you wouldn¡¯t fit either.¡±


    Around him, Ronin saw figures running in and out of his cargo ship, collecting supplies.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he replied and began heading towards the dark passage ahead. ¡°Fly my ship back to the factory after you¡¯ve taken what you need.¡± Ronin wasn''t in the mood for jokes. Not now. Not when vengeance was at hand.


    As for the cargo ship? There was no way that huge thing would fit through that tunnel. Either way, it didn¡¯t matter much at this point, his suit had more than enough power in it for the fight to come. He could walk.


    Entering the tunnel, he thought, did you expect something like this when you blew up my apartment, Specter? What will your face be when we finally meet?


    Unbeknownst to the Hammers of Fortune, another group was following them closely from behind. Being hired to capture Ronin alive, they¡¯d taken note of the large ship leaving the Maximus Solutions factory. Following it, they¡¯d been quite surprised to find a war band, at least twice the size of their own, flying over to accompany it.


    At the head of a round table, sat a bearded man in militaristic clothing. The beard, however, couldn''t hide the man''s frown, growing more and more pronounced the more he thought about the dilemma they were in. The situation was deteriorating, and the hologram hovering above the round table, only made that fact clearer with every passing second.


    ¡°Boss, Argus said nothing about this! We were supposed to grab a kid. A well protected kid, sure. But this? This feels more like we¡¯re joining a war!¡± A female voice broke in, cutting through the dour atmosphere.


    "Hmpf!" The bearded man grumbled. ¡°Let¡¯s follow them for now¡­We¡¯ll have to attack sooner or later if this goes on though. If that war band, or whomever they are, kills our employer... We can forget about getting paid, whether we capture that kid or not.¡±


    Exiting the tunnel, Ronin continued jogging, making his way towards Specter¡¯s compound. Above, starfighters could be seen circling the area, protecting the men below.


    A BOOM! sounded out as a missile crashed into a nearby building, taking out both men and equipment inside. Large sections of the upper wall began falling down, and Ronin had to move out of the way so as to not be squashed under the rubble.


    [Heavy contact ahead! Prioritize using long range missiles,] someone shouted over the intercom. It made sense. Heavy fog didn¡¯t exactly provide good conditions for light-based weaponry. The issue, as with light traveling through any kind of medium, came in the form of particles. Water droplets¡ªto be more precise¡ªcaused the laser to diffract, in turn crippling its long-range effectiveness.


    Amidst the increasingly heavy fighting, he advanced further until he eventually reached the battlefront. High powered lasers were exchanged back and forth, and missiles struck both buildings and people. A starfighter crashed onto the street in front of him, plowing up the ground as it began rapidly sliding towards him.


    Running up to a half-destroyed building, he hid behind one of the walls, narrowly dodging the incoming ship.


    ¡°We can¡¯t move forward unless something is done about those large guns! Their lasers are specialized for this kind of environment. We¡¯re getting outgunned down here!¡± A nearby mercenary shouted, looking up at the towering figure that was Ronin''s suit. As if to punctuate the statement, a section of the wall between them melted as a bright red beam pierced through.


    "Alright, I''ll see what I can do!" Ronin shouted back over the weapons fire.


    He began moving along the wall after finding a suitable spot 15 meters ahead. Most of the wall here had collapsed and only his head and shoulders reached above the crumbled concrete. It should suffice for his shoulder-mounted missiles. Once he was at the opening, he tried getting a target lock on one of the large laser guns.


    The target lock kept moving around, but did not lock in. He cursed inwardly. There was just too much fog and there was only one way left he could think of.


    I¡¯ll have to eyeball it, he thought.


    Squinting his eyes, he positioned himself carefully and aimed. Here goes nothing! A sharp fizzling sound was followed by a short thump as the rocket left the chamber, flying into the mist. Ronin already knew the answer before the missile even arrived.


    BOOM!


    It missed the large laser gun by tens of meters, blowing up a part of the road running parallel to the embankment. He fired another missile, then another¡­It wasn¡¯t until he¡¯d fired his 6th shot that he had to, once again, hide. He¡¯d been spotted, and anything from missiles to lasers were being aimed his way.


    As he ducked out of the way, the barrage of weapons fire hit, and the crumbled wall crumbled even further. He moved quickly along the foundations of the broken building, leaving before one of Specter''s men had a chance to get lucky.


    My missiles won''t reach those guns, not with the visibility as bad as it is. He needed to do something, but what?


    Just then, he heard Captain Darvenic shout over the intercom, [we¡¯ve got a large number of hostiles coming up from behind! Divert the starfighters to the backline!]


    The situation just went from bad to worse. With a new force attacking them from behind, they were now surrounded and unable to move. His mind raced as he thought of a way out of the stalemate. One side has to break, if someone doesn¡¯t get rid of those guns, we¡¯ll end up stuck here, squeezed between two forces.


    Just sitting here, waiting for rescue, sounded less and less appealing the more he thought about it. Especially now, with their air support gone. There had to be a way out of this! There just¡ª


    Then it struck him. His warsuit! Though its shielding wasn¡¯t strong enough to stop those lasers, the suit was still strong enough to lift something that could!


    He did a quick surface level scan of his surroundings... There! A large broken pillar lay about 30 meters away from him. He should be able to pick that up, maybe?


    Walking over, he bent down, spread his arms and gripped the slab of concrete with all he had. Gears and servos strained as he attempted to lift the big thing. Come on big boy, you''re not that heavy, are you?


    The pillar was barely off the ground before Ronin had to shift his position in order not to fall over. The lift would not be easy, but it was possible. Slowly but surely, the broken pillar rose.


    ¡°Void dammit! We¡¯re losing cover! We need those lasers gone¡ªNOW!¡± someone close by roared over the gunfire.


    The sensors within his suit began cracking as he pushed the machine beyond its limits, adding his own strength into the mix.


    With a force of will, he brought the broken pillar into position, and shouted out, notifying the Hammers, ¡°prepare to storm the hill! I will clear you a way!¡±


    He began moving, and heavy thumps rang out along each step his warsuit made. Exiting cover, he picked up speed as red lights flashed past his vision.


    Thump, thump, thump, thump


    A missile crashed into the ground ahead of him, detonating. Pieces of concrete and metal erupted out, colliding with the broken pillar, but he barely felt it.


    As he got closer, some of the enemy combatants began shouting out frantically and the lasers began turning. The large stationary guns were now targeting him. As they began firing, the pillar heated up rapidly, but he was close now.


    Reaching the embankments upwards incline, with a quickstep, he maneuvered the suit further under the pillar, allowing for more servos to work. It gave the warsuit the little extra power it needed, and with a final push, Ronin, along with the half-melted pillar, flew over the embankment, taking several of Specter''s men along with them in the fall.

 Chapter 30: Blood for blood II

    Ronin and the pillar flew over the embankment, only to be met by a 3-meters drop right after. In order to give themselves more cover, Specter''s men had apparently dug themselves an entrenchment at the other side of the hill. It''s a good idea, but did they really have to dig it so deep? Ronin internally sighed as plumes of dust puffed up all around him.


    As he shook himself, waiting for the dust to clear, he glanced below. The three men he''d taken along with him in the fall lay there, under the pillar. What hadn''t been crushed by the pillars weight, had burned and melted from its heat. There weren''t much left of the men. Some partially bionic limbs, a couple of organic parts. Many of their tattoos could still be seen though. The tattoos depicted gang affiliations as well as... well, various conquests so to speak.


    It was one thing to commit a murder, but to tattoo the act onto one''s own body after? Now that was something else.


    It didn¡¯t matter now anyways. There would be no new tattoos for these guys.


    As the dust cleared, he turned his gaze upwards. He could see the large stationary laser guns on top of the embankment behind him. They weren¡¯t far away. Fortunately, none of them had been turned his way yet.


    He looked from one end of the trench to the other and saw more guards emerging from behind the corners. Well, that certainly wasn''t good. As they noticed Ronin, they began shouting and gesturing. They would begin raising their weapons soon. They would begin firing...


    I didn''t come here to fight in some trench, Ronin inwardly grumbled.


    As the guards came closer, he threw a couple of grenades at them, hoping to slow them down. He came here to take out their laser-based artillery, not to fight random gangsters. And on that note, with a firm pull, he climbed up the trench and began heading up towards the nearest gun available.


    Fortunately, the laser-based artillery was only a few steps away, and it did not take him long to reach it. A man, looking almost delirious as he fired laser round after laser round into the fog, was currently operating the gun. Ronin reached out his hand and grabbed him.


    ¡°Hey, what are you-,¡±


    Before the man had a chance to finish, with a firm grip, Ronin yanked him out of his seat and threw him aside. With little time to spare, he positioned his warsuit''s arm in for a shot, then ended the man with a laser round of his own.


    With that minor inconvenience out of the way, Ronin took a hold of the large stationary gun, attempting to move it. Loud shrieks of metal grinding against metal rang out as he slowly began turning the weapon. Apparently, these stationary guns weren¡¯t supposed to be moved like that. It didn''t matter. His warsuit was more than strong enough to line up a shot, regardless of whether the laser gun wanted to or not.


    His HUD flickered.


    [Shield stability at 61%.]


    He was taking fire. With little time to spare, he aimed the massive gun towards the other stationary lasers, then pressed the trigger. A hot beam of light shot out, and the entire left side of the embankment flared up in a blaze of destruction.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As Ronin turned to see who was firing at him, time slowed down. What could cause the near-death-sight to activate while I''m in the middle of a warsuit?


    Everything around him was now moving in slow motion...


    He could see the trail of flames left from the shot he¡¯d just fired. The flames flickered in mesmerizingly slow detail as they danced back and forth. Among the flames, he saw melted metal. And there was a lot of it. That one shot must have taken out at least half the enemy''s artillery, he thought in shock.


    He shifted his gaze towards the trench below. There were more guards there now. Looking at him with fear and anger in their eyes, they readied their weapons, no doubt aiming to take his life. One of those guards held something large upon his shoulders. It was smoking. That meant he¡¯d already fired something.


    Ronin felt an ominous tingling at the back of his neck. That weapon was pointed directly towards him... What had that man shot out just now?


    As he traced the path the shot would have taken¡­ he saw it. Just there, 2 meters away from him, was a large missile!


    Moving in quickly, the missile was too close to dodge. Ronin needed a solution, and he needed it now!


    Think, predict, adapt, act, think, predict, adapt¡­


    Moving as fast as the power armor would allow, he reached out his hand and caught the missile!


    Before it had the chance to detonate, he quickly moved his wrist, changing the missile¡¯s path, then released.


    Time sped up as the missile flew past his shoulder, exploding shortly after.


    [Shield stability at 2%]


    The missile had gone off too early. His HUD showed minor damages to servos and armor plating, lighting up as yellow in several spots. No doubt, carrying that pillar earlier had played a role in the servo damage, but the armor plating? No, he''d be toast if they fired another one of those missiles at him. He had to fight back.


    Before anyone had a chance to fire again, Ronin launched a couple missiles of his own towards the guards. With a resounding BOOM, the missiles struck. And the guards, not possessing shield generators, did more than just die. As the missiles detonated, they were torn apart into little more than limbs and viscera, then scattered out across the trench.


    Sorry guys, but better me than you, Ronin breathed out as he looked upon the devastation.


    Suddenly, there was another loud rumble. To his right, Ronin saw two more of those big stationary laser guns explode. This time, however, it wasn¡¯t Ronin''s doing. Out of the fog, he saw the Hammers of Fortune. They were advancing. With half their artillery missing, Specters forces had been crippled and the Hammers were turning the tide.


    His charge across enemy lines and the destruction that followed, had done its work... They were winning.


    With his energy shield nearly depleted, Ronin entered the trench again. Though, he did make sure to stay far away from where the guards had been. Holding his rapid-fire lasers at the ready, he waited for the shield to recharge.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The rumbles of battle continued above, but after a while, other sounds began mixing in as well. Ronin could hear men shouting and cheering as they approached.


    A few men wearing the distinct black clothing of the Hammers of Fortune entered the trench.


    ¡°There, it''s the madman! You really saved our hides back there!¡± One of the men laughed.


    ¡°When you began running with that pillar, I almost started thinking someone was playing a joke on us, but to think you actually did it!¡± Another to the side said, his face flushed with excitement.


    Ronin chuckled in response, ¡°you know, I did try shooting down one of those guns first, but when that failed... I mean, what else was I supposed to do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, nothing at all! What you did was perfect!¡± The second man laughed.


    Walking up to Ronin, he held out his hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Haxel by the way. I might not know your name, or face, but I do know your heart. Regardless of who you are behind that helmet, from today on, to us, you''re a brother.¡±


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    The warsuit''s large metal hand clasped Haxel''s own as Ronin heartfully replied, ¡°Thank you, you fight pretty well yourselves. I¡¯d be honored to be called a brother of the Hammers.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    With most of the enemy artillery gone, it did not take long before the forces outside were defeated. All that was left now, was Specter''s lair.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Haxel asked as they stood by the wall, waiting to breach the door.


    Ronin gave a firm nod in response, and they activated the laser cutter. After the laser cutter made a full rotation, Ronin stepped out in front and kicked down the door. Readying himself for another firefight, he raised both arms. However, what greeted him was not the gang members he''d expected. Instead, what he saw was a small girl, probably no more than 6 years old, running out of the door opening with tears in her eyes. What in the? -


    ¡°Hold your fire!¡± Haxel shouted.


    As the little girl ran out, the entire assault force had a dumbfounded expression. This was simply too absurd. Why would a little child be at the front gate of a place like this?


    ¡°Someone bring her away,¡± Haxel commented, and one of the men jogged over and caught her.


    As the man carried the girl away, Haxel shook his head, baffled. ¡°When you think you''ve seen it all, something new comes along and grabs you by the balls.¡±


    A couple of chuckles could be heard amongst the men, but the minor distraction did not delay them long.


    ¡°¡ªAlright, we''re not paid by the hour.¡± someone broke in. ¡°Let''s get this going.¡± And with Ronin in the lead, they entered the building.


    Faint smells of old sweat and rust greeted them as they entered. It tainted the air, becoming thicker and thicker the further they moved. As they reached deeper, they began finding traps. There was a high-grade explosive strapped to the wall in one corridor, an automatic turret installed onto the ceiling in another. And that was only the beginning. Tripwires began showing up, triggering who knows what, and EMP mines started showing up under the floor plates.


    Fortunately, the Hammers of Fortune knew what they were doing, and they swiftly disabled every single trap with practiced ease. It wasn¡¯t until they were halfway into the facility that they actually encountered other people.


    ¡°Grenade!¡± Haxel shouted as they approached the next corner. A round black ball bounced off the wall, landing in the middle of their group.


    Everybody jumped away, and as the black ball went off, the room reverberated with a BOOM. One of the Hammers reacted late, and got his left leg mangled in the explosion.


    ¡°You guys take care of the injured, I¡¯ll handle the goons,¡± Ronin said.


    With his energy shield back up to 100%, a grenade or two wasn''t an issue. He walked up and around the corner, but he saw nothing of Specter''s men. He did see a tiny hole along the ceiling though. Faint whispers sounded out from the tiny hole as another grenade was thrown out of it. He swiftly kicked away the small explosive. How in the world was he supposed to deal with this?


    My missiles won''t fit, my grenades could get thrown back out but... Didn''t he have that one thing? The ion plasma blaster? It couldn''t hurt to blast some plasma into the opening, right?


    He readied the weapon as the gears and servos along his right arm began moving. Armor plating slid to the side, making way, and something akin to a long tube rose up along his arm. After the weapon was primed, he stuck it into the tiny hole, activating it. Blue bars began lighting up along the tube and he smelled a strong metallic scent of ozone. But that was it. Nothing else happened.


    By the time Ronin was halfway into a frown, however, something changed. As the last blue bar along the weapon was filled, he felt a sudden jolt to his arm, and a loud sonic boom akin to thunder rang out. A thick lightning bolt burst out from the weapon, instantly filling the room above. By the loud screams emanating from the room, he could literally hear the white bolt reach out, spreading its dendritic tendrils around.


    He¡¯d at least hit something, but was it enough? Just to make sure, he stuffed one of his 3 remaining frag grenades into the hole as well.


    That should do the job, he thought as he heard the grenade go off.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As the injured member of the Hammers was given first aid and helped back out of the building, Ronin, along with the rest of the vanguard continued on.


    ¡°Just where did you find that armor?¡± Haxel asked after passing the hole in the ceiling. He was not alone in his enthusiasm.


    ¡°Well, actually the government gave it to me,¡± Ronin replied vaguely.


    ¡°They actually give out power armors like that!?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it, at least not normally,¡± Ronin began as they headed deeper into the corridor. ¡°In my case, they gave it to me as a means of apology, and how often does a government do something like that?¡±


    Haxel made a disappointed expression. ¡°A shame. If Bargas had had armor like yours, he¡¯d still have a leg to walk on.¡±


    A solemn air fell upon the group as the rest of the vanguard nodded in agreement.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Continuing on, deeper into the compound, they encountered more guards. But with Ronin eagerly using the ion plasma blaster every chance he got, they made swift progress. After finishing clearing traps from one particularly tricky corridor, they arrived in front of a large circular door. The rusty thing was distinct from any of the other doors they''d come across. And it was more than just its shape that was different...It felt... older.


    Bringing out the laser cutter, they began slowly melting it open. The rusty door must have been over a meter thick, with how much the cutter struggled. Eventually they managed to remove both locks and hinges, and on cue, Ronin walked up and began pushing.


    The door fell inwards with a loud metallic rattle, and they were greeted by a vast dark room. As their eyes adjusted to the dark, they could see innumerable silhouettes of skeletal remains. The bones were everywhere. Stacked up upon each other, they formed mounds and ridges several men tall. Ronin¡¯s golden eyes, being uniquely suited for this sort of environment, saw more.


    The skeletal remains still had skin, it was just so closely bound to the bones beneath, the remains looked as if they had no skin at all. It was almost as if something had drained all remaining fluid out of these¡ª


    Humans. These are all remains from human beings¡­he realized as he saw the distinct shapes of the bodies.


    Stacked up along the walls, there had to have been thousands of people who¡¯d died here. Realization struck him then! The people he¡¯d seen before. All those figures, looking hopeless as they shuffled along in the direction of this very building. Had this been what they walked towards? Had they all been walking towards their own deaths?


    No wonder they¡¯d looked so hopeless.


    His gaze shifted upwards. Above it all, was a gallery housing nothing but a single chair. On it, sat a gaunt man. Despite sitting down, it was evident that the man was tall. The man''s face was pale, and it wore a restless expression as it looked down upon them.


    ¡°You guys leave the room. I will deal with this myself,¡± Ronin said, his voice low.


    The vanguard, some of which looked sick from what they¡¯d just seen, walked back, giving him thankful glances as they left. He didn¡¯t blame them. He was feeling quite ill himself as well. Whatever had happened here, was so horrible, any man would¡¯ve been affected.


    As the group began leaving the room one by one, soon, only Haxel was left.


    ¡°Make sure he suffers,¡± he said as he passed, his voice hoarse with emotion.


    Eventually, every single member of the Hammers was out of the room. Only Ronin and the man in the gallery were left now.


    Looking up, Ronin narrowed his eyes and shouted, ¡°get down here Specter!¡±


    The man lazily stretched, arching his back as his hands reached for the ceiling.


    ¡°You think you''re the boss now?¡± The man chuckled. But as Ronin raised his arm, readying a laser gun, the chuckling quickly became strained.


    ¡°GET, DOWN!¡±


    The gaunt man slowly began descending the stairs as Ronin looked on, his warsuit unmoving. As he reached the floor and Ronin was certain the man had a clear view of himself, he removed his faceguard.


    ¡°Did you ever think we¡¯d meet like this Specter?¡±


    The man looked confused¡­ didn¡¯t he know? He¡¯d ordered his death, sent him to prison, blown up his apartment¡­ and he didn¡¯t know?


    ¡°What is my name?¡± Ronin asked, his expression turning ferocious.


    ¡°Why would I bother myself with every little rat¡ª¡± the figure began. Before finishing the sentence however, his hand twitched as he reached for something behind his back. When the man¡¯s hand returned, it held a gun.


    Ronin didn¡¯t give him a chance to fire it, burning a hole through the man''s head the moment he saw what the man was holding.


    As a new corpse was added to the already enormous collection that was this room, Ronin couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of disappointment. The way Specter had been talked up by his uncle, it shouldn¡¯t have been this easy¡­This whole thing felt wrong somehow.


    Nevertheless, the Ghost Butcher had been dealt with, and there was still one more crime lord left¡­


    As for making Specter suffer? Ronin didn¡¯t see the point. To torture someone already destined for death seemed meaningless. An act like that would, if anything, be more for the man inflicting the pain than the one suffering it.


    Putting his faceguard back on, he exited the haunting room.


    ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± he said as he reached the waiting Hammers. Now, it was time to deal with Argus¡­

 Chapter 31: A reasonable man

    Returning back outside the building, Ronin and the assault team were immediately informed on the battle against the unknown force.


    The Hammers of Fortune had been attacked from behind, ambushed without knowing what was going on. It had also happened at the worst possible moment, right as they were assaulting Specter''s lair. Further, with the enemy force mostly attacking from the air, the Hammers had been forced to divert most of their supporting starfighters. This had caused massive disruptions to their assault on Specter. Safe to say, the Hammers had been on the back foot.


    But this mercenary group was famous for a reason. After their starfighters turned around, the unknown force were now the ones struggling. And now? With Specter''s lair conquered? The question of if they''d win, had turned into a question of when they''d win.


    [We¡¯ve got aerial superiority, but they¡¯re fighting like cowards. Every time we advance, they retreat. It''s almost as if they¡¯re intentionally stalling us!] The wing commander of the Hammers shouted over the intercom.


    [I¡¯m at ground level and have visual contact with one of the downed enemy ships,] a female voice broke in.


    After a brief pause, she continued, [I see an insignia on the ship now. Hang on, isn¡¯t that the insignia of Executive Actions?]


    The wing commander guffawed back, [Executive Actions?! They''re still in business?] Laughter could be heard over the intercom before he continued, his voice now clearly more confident, [no wonder they were behaving so cowardly! Let¡¯s throw everything we have at these buffoons!]


    Ronin looked over at Haxel. ¡°Have you met those guys before?¡±


    Haxel flashed a grin, ¡°nope, but we know of them. Executive Actions are a mercenary company known for fleeing the battlefield. Very few even hire them anymore. The wing commander must have held back our forces in fear of another ambush, or a scheme of some sort. But if it''s Executive Actions however...¡± The black clothed man chuckled, shaking his head. "It''s more likely they''ve accepted a bad contract and are now just stalling. Their probably just dragging it out in an attempt to salvage what little reputation they have left."


    As the Hammers of Fortune¡¯s starfighters began ramping up the battle in the air, the newly freed up ground forces advanced as well. After dealing with Specter''s defenses, plenty of members were now free to aid the forces fighting at the backlines.


    As Haxel and the rest of the vanguard moved back through the tunnel towards district 101, Ronin followed. But he did not follow them towards their battlefield. There was another battlefield waiting for him, and time was of the essence. The two mercenary companies could have their fight... His grudge was... it was with someone else.


    Argus was sitting down on the old couch, trying and failing to remain calm. How could this happen? Someone had literally just started a full-blown war against them out of nowhere. On top of that, the bases that were supposed to have been veiled to the uninitiated, had been directly attacked the moment the enemy showed up!


    Fortunately, they¡¯d attacked Specter¡¯s facility first, but after?


    A jolt of pain from his missing finger brought him back to reality. The air in the room felt¡­ frantic. People were quickly moving around, talking in hushed voices as they passed.


    ¡°What¡¯s the latest update on the situation?¡± He asked, lifting himself up from the couch.


    Egil, his head of intelligence, walked over. Meekly rubbing his hands together, he began, ¡°sir¡­ as you know, shortly after the group we believe to be the Hammers of Fortune attacked, the group you hired to grab Ronin, engaged the Hammers.¡±


    ¡°Yes? I know what Executive Actions did, why are you stalling? What¡¯s changed?¡±


    ¡°About two minutes ago, I was informed that Executive Actions lost the battle. The entirety of the Hammers of Fortune¡¯s remaining forces, after taking Specter''s base, turned their focus on them. Executive Actions were forced to flee shortly after.¡±


    Argus knew where this was going. Still, he had to ask, ¡°And now?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re coming, sir. All of them. We estimate it will take about 20 minutes before they arrive.¡±


    Argus had his answer. His forces wouldn''t stand a chance against the Hammers. It was time to leave. ¡°Ready a shuttle a soon as poss¡ª¡±


    BOOM!


    A loud explosion shook the entire building. He looked at Egil, only to see his head of security being just as surprised as himself. Didn¡¯t they have 20 minutes?


    After launching a few missiles at the shuttles surrounding Argus¡¯s compound, Ronin waited around outside. After storming Specter¡¯s defenses and nearly dying in the process, he¡¯d chosen a more conservative strategy this time.


    The important thing here was to prevent anyone from escaping. And there''s no way I¡¯m letting that happen, he thought, reminded of the 18 million credits he¡¯d spent on this. He wouldn¡¯t be hiring mercenaries again. Not with that amount of credits as the price. What they managed to clean up today, that would be it.


    Time passed as guards began exiting the compound. But it didn¡¯t end there. Men came out from foggy alleyways, down the road on monowheels, out from nearby buildings¡­ all of them, searching for him. Turns out, people got a little antsy when you launched missiles at them.


    The guards didn''t have to search long. Ronin wasn¡¯t hard to find. As opposed to his Heromaker, the warsuit had no soundproofing. Every step the power armor made, could easily be heard by anyone nearby.


    I¡¯ll only have to stall for a few minutes. How hard can it be? He thought as he saw the guards coming closer.


    Opting for a hit and run strategy, he began circling the surrounding buildings. He made sure to vary his route so as to remain unpredictable. Wouldn¡¯t do him much good to get ambushed around the next corner.


    The one-wheeled bikes these guys always seemed so fond of however, were much faster than his warsuit. Men on bikes attempted to pull up alongside him, firing weapons the moment they were in range. He fired back with weapons of his own, either scaring them off, or putting them down. His rapid-fire lasers worked wonders here and with the surrounding buildings providing cover, the chase wouldn¡¯t be ending anytime soon...


    Time passed, and he saw more and more guards begin popping up around him. They''d begun encircling him and in response, Ronin started getting more... creative.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    This is actually kind of fun, he thought as he ran through another building. A drug den of some sorts by the looks of it. Men and women fled to the side screaming as he bulldozed his way ahead. Tables toppled over and the white powder on them was knocked into the air. His nose picked up faint traces of fantasia dust through the helmet. Yeah, definitely a drug den.


    Being inside of a 3-meters tall warsuit, he¡¯d been forced to run in a bent over position so as to not touch the ceiling. He probably looked ridiculous, running around in a halfway crouch, bent over like a kyphotic hunchback as he bumbled his way through the rooms. But hey, if it worked, it worked.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Exiting the building, he was met by a couple of guards, waiting. They¡¯d probably just gotten lucky, or unlucky depending on how you looked at it. Not that it mattered much to Ronin. Their lasguns barely managed to put a dent in his energy shield before he fired back, neutralizing the threat, then moved on.


    The cat and mouse game continued, and the guards attempted, several times, to set up a blockade. But with how randomly Ronin moved, as well as how often his pot shots hit their targets, they never managed to stop him.


    Eventually, their chase was interrupted by starfighters flying in from above, reigning down fire on anyone out in the open. All the ships bore a similar logo of a hammer, smashing open a chest of gold. The Hammers of Fortune had arrived.


    With all of Argus¡¯s ships already taken out, and his men out in the open, the starfighters made quick work of the compound''s defenses.


    Shockwaves from nearby explosions boomed across the battlefield and fog lit up in bright yellow flashes of light. Buildings collapsed; their burning rubble spreading across the streets.


    Amidst the destruction, dark silhouettes began emerging. At least a hundred strong, they moved in 5-man teams, spreading smoothly across the battlefield as they circumvented the rubble. Flowing in perfect coordination as they did so, they went from door to door, clearing out the few buildings left standing.


    ¡°Tin can! Hey, tin can¡ª over here!¡± One of those dark silhouettes shouted over the chaos.


    Ronin turned, spotting a figure waving at him amidst the black clothed men.


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve decided to come early! Nice of you to leave some for the rest of us!¡± The figure continued, his voice not lowering at all. If anything, he just became louder and louder as he went on.


    ¡°Haxel!? You¡¯re at the front lines again?!¡± Ronin roared back.


    ¡°No rest for the wicked, tin can! No rest for the wicked!¡±


    Ronin made his way over. ¡°Couldn¡¯t let Argus escape,¡± he breathed out as he reached the man. He looked over the battlefield, gathering himself for a moment. ¡°I knew they had shuttles here, ready to go. Didn¡¯t want to chance him running off while you guys dealt with Executive Actions.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I get that. Those guys came out of nowhere. You guys weren¡¯t holding back on the intel you gave us, right?¡± Haxel replied, raising an eyebrow.


    Ronin shook his head. ¡°No way. Payment is not an issue for our company. We¡¯d never do something like that. Heart of hearts, we were as clueless as you about these guys.¡±


    ¡°Uh Huh?¡± Haxel did not look convinced.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    While the two of them talked, it did not take long before the area was cleared. Only Argus¡¯s compound was left now.


    With its subpar defenses, the Hammers quickly breached the compound and began clearing out the last remaining dregs of resistance. Ronin chose to hang back, although, judging from the buzz over the intercom, it would not be for long:


    [Alright¡ª contractor, we¡¯re going to need your eyes on this. We¡¯ve got a bit of a situation here which might be of interest to you guys,] the leader of the company said, sounding amused.


    Why would Dravenic call me over? Could they have found something? If so, what? Ronin wondered as he made his way up the stairs and into Argus¡¯s room.


    In front of him, he was met by something he¡¯d never imagine even in his wildest dreams. Argus, on his knees, was currently loudly begging for his life: ¡°I have information, crucial information about Specter! Just please spare my life!¡±


    A shadow of his previously confident self, Argus looked like a completely different person.


    ¡°Thought you¡¯d want to see this,¡± Captain Dravenic said, his lips curved into a slight smirk as he looked down upon the begging man.


    Behind his faceguard, Ronin couldn¡¯t help but do the same, ¡°Oooh, I do. I do indeed.¡±


    Walking over to the blonde muscular man, Ronin asked, ¡°I killed that man myself less than an hour ago. What use could your information possibly have now?¡±


    Argus seemed to have expected that question, as he continued, ¡°whomever you¡¯ve killed, I doubt it¡¯s Specter. That''s why I¡¯m saying I have valuable information!¡±


    Ronin gave the man a skeptical look, but inside, he was shocked. It did feel a little too easy. Specter is infamous for being something akin to a ghost, and for him to just be sitting there, waiting for us as his base was being overrun? It didn¡¯t make sense.


    ¡°Alright Argus, you¡¯ll have to excuse me, but I¡¯m going to need a little more information first, if I am to spare you. Considering what you¡¯ve done, you can understand right?¡±


    ¡°Yes yes, I understand,¡± the begging man said, seemingly saying whatever he could to survive.


    On Ronin''s request, the Hammers brought out a projection device. He promptly uploaded an image his suit had recorded into the device, and the image began materializing in front of Argus.


    As the hologram became clearer, the gaunt man from the haunting, bone-filled room, also became visible. There was a shift in Argus¡¯s expression the moment he saw the man. ¡°No, that''s not Specter. That''s Isamellos. He''s the one in charge of internal supply,¡± he broke in.


    ¡°Internal supply?¡± Ronin felt a shiver run through him as he thought about the possible implications behind those two words.


    ¡°Y-yes, he mainly dealt with the people being supplied to the boss,¡± Argus said, confirming Ronin¡¯s suspicions.


    Supplied to the boss, huh...


    All of those hopeless eyes, men and women shuffling towards their doom, only to be added onto the pile, slowly building upon the mountains of human suffering already there.


    Ronin made up his mind, ¡°Okay Argus. You have yourself a deal. We will spare your life in return for your information. Now, start talking.¡±


    If there was even a hint of a possibility that the Ghost Butcher was still around, Ronin needed to know.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Time passed as Argus began laying out anything from Specter''s rise, his connections, to even his speech patterns and general cadence as a person. The Ghost Butcher''s appearance was supposedly that of a short, stout figure with white hair. He looked young, but the way he talked was completely different from what one would expect from someone that age.


    Argus kept on emphasizing that point. Specter didn¡¯t sound human. The way he thought and reasoned was completely different from anything he¡¯d ever encountered. It was impossible to guess what was on his mind at any given time. Argus went on and on about it.


    Eventually though, Ronin had had enough.


    ¡°Alright, say no more. I think we¡¯ve gone over everything at this point,¡± he breathed out.


    ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ll spare my life?¡± Argus asked, looking up at him with expectant eyes.


    ¡°Yes, but first¡ª everyone here, leave the room. I want some alone time with this guy,¡± Ronin said, sweeping his gaze over the Hammers.


    Like the professionals they were, the mercenaries quickly exited, leaving Ronin to finish his business. Fear could be seen dawning on Argus¡¯s face.


    ¡°What are you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut it.¡± Ronin cut him off, then began exiting his armor. ¡°Do you remember this face?¡± he asked as the gears and servos worked. The faceguard lifted, revealing his head.


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re the brat¡ª I-I mean Ronin,¡± Argus stammered.


    The armor opened up, and Ronin walked out.


    ¡°I said I¡¯d spare your life, and I aim to keep that promise. As to what shape you will be in once you leave this room however¡­¡± Ronin cracked his knuckles as he approached. ¡°It will depend on how well you fight...¡±


    Argus seemed confused as he stared at the boy voluntarily exiting his own armor. Was this kid really going to fight him with his own bare hands?


    ¡°Rise up Argus! Rise up! It''s time to fight for your body! It''s time to fight for your health!¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    30 minutes later, and Argus was laying down on the floor, his body showing severe signs of being beaten.


    To Ronin¡¯s surprise, Argus had been incredibly strong. After reaching the 11th stance in the Kalvrakian embrace, Ronin¡¯s strength had already far surpassed what was possible for baseline humans. In spite of that however, Argus had actually somewhat managed to keep up with him in the beginning.


    ¡°Now, you don¡¯t blame me, do you?¡± Ronin asked, squatting down besides the beaten man.


    Argus¡¯s swollen face squinted up at Ronin¡¯s in indignation.


    ¡°Listen, you¡¯ve ordered my death on multiple occasions¡­ I spent a month on Exodon, where I had to fight for my life¡ªmore than once, by the way¡ªbecause of you. Put yourself in my shoes. What would you have done if I did something like that to you?¡±


    Argus didn¡¯t answer, but Ronin already had the answer he was looking for.


    ¡°Would you have spared my life? I think not. You''re not crippled in any way, you''re alive. You¡¯re not even in prison. I¡¯m a reasonable man if you think about it. If anything, I¡¯m the most reasonable man in the city.¡±


    ¡°What more do you want?¡± Argus croaked out.


    ¡°Well, how about this? If you call off that bounty you¡¯ve placed on my head right now, I''ll let it go. This grudge was between me and Specter to begin with.¡±


    With great effort, Argus made the calls needed, lisped out the required words, and canceled the bounty.

 Chapter 32: Scouting the market

    After having spent hours in the warsuit, waging a private war against Specter, Ronin returned to the factory, exhausted. The constant tension from knowing he might die at any second had completely drained him. Collapsing onto his bed, he surrendered to the mattress, beginning to drift away to sleep.


    As darkness began encroaching along the edges of his vision, and the surrounding noise dimmed into obscurity, he sunk into the realm of dreams.


    But... something was different this time. He noticed himself standing inside a familiar space. It was a place he''d been before. Vast stretches of pure darkness surrounded him, and all of his senses were muffled. This... Isn''t this the place I entered when my apartment blew up? When I blacked out?


    He felt it then. There was something else there with him. A presence he''d felt before.


    ¡°Such a weak soul...¡± the presence spoke, and the world itself shuddered. Ronin felt as if his mind was tearing itself apart, every word boring into him, seeking to prove themselves true.


    ¡°Why am I here?¡± Ronin thought as he struggled against the pressure. The question rippled out, almost undetectable amidst the roiling waves... But... something did listen, something did respond.


    ¡°The chains of fate forge purpose, yet chains are not enough. The ladder of ascension demands... inspiration!¡±


    As reality itself boomed, the realm of nothingness twisted into something real. In place of vast blackness, mountains of corpses rose, rising up until Ronin saw nothing else. The bony mounds looked eerily similar to the ones from Specter''s lair, only larger... much larger.


    Before he could come to grips with what was happening, he felt something pull him under.


    He began sinking, deeper and deeper until he became fully submerged under the mountains of bones. Whispers of despair and pleading began tearing at him from within the depths, and he felt himself weakening.


    He was drowning.


    Realization struck him then... I''m dying. I''m really dying, aren''t I?


    A force began pulling out the very essence that made him, him, and he felt his own sense of individuality begin to disperse.


    Something else began boring its way in, replacing him. The very idea of who he was as an individual became twisted into something foreign... Something alien.


    Inwardly gritting his teeth, he roared as loud as his mind would allow, no! I won''t let it end like this!


    His battle soul activated and every single part of him remaining began wrestling for control. Utilizing the lessons he''d learned from Glory in the Arena, he grappled with the ephemeral force, fighting for every piece of himself left. Each time he lost, he adapted, changing how he fought. Every time he won out, he memorized how, applying his newly gained knowledge when he could.


    As if in an endless struggle, the battle waged.


    Time disappeared. Thoughts faded. All that was left was the desperation born from the need to continue one''s own existence.


    Sometimes he managed to regain a part of himself. At other times, he felt parts of himself turn, as if infected by a virus, twisting into the alien forces allegiance.


    At some point, though he did not know how long he''d been fighting inside the corpse mountain, he''d stopped losing parts of himself.


    The tide was turning.


    As he began claiming back the parts he''d lost, he was also taking more. His very being had at one point ended up so scattered, it was impossible to fully regain himself. But there was more out there to grab. Previously, it had been the force that bored into him. Now, it was his turn. Twisting his very essence into the foreign force, he infected it back, tearing out parts of its own individuality. He began forcibly incorporating those parts into himself, attempting to make himself whole.


    After what might have been an eternity, or no time at all. Somehow, he''d finally fully regained himself.


    And just like that, he woke up.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Ronin opened his eyes. His head felt heavy, and the bed was soaked. He noticed himself being covered in cold sweat. What¡¯s going on? Did I really have a nightmare? No, it can¡¯t be¡­


    This dream had left him shaken, more so than he''d been in years. He shuddered as he thought about what had happened back there. The desperation he¡¯d felt when he was fighting for his life. That couldn''t have just been a dream, right? It had felt so real.


    Lately, he¡¯d felt like he¡¯d gotten some control over the Potentia Panorama. He was making steady progress with the Kalvrakian embrace and was no longer affected by the legacy¡¯s mental influence. This dream however¡­ Did he really know anything at all about the artifact inside of him?


    Attempting to calm himself, he closed his eyes again and entered his mindscape. The walls, corridors and halls of the massive spaceship that was his mind palace, showed cracks from his most recent gate opening. Compared to before however, the damage was minimal.


    He''d expected there to be some changes to the place, considering what he''d just gone through. But nope, it was the same Worldmaker mothership it had always been.


    He got to work and began repairing the cracks along the wall. Lifting a plate, he placed it over a crack and began to weld. As he''d expected, fortunately, the uncomfort he''d felt waking up, slowly started fading away as he completed the weld. Before, he¡¯d simply been working on his mindscape in order to fix his headache, as well as to open more gates from the Potentia Panorama. Now, he considered changing that. Maybe he should make this a routine every morning?


    He lifted another plate, welded it onto a crack, then picked up yet another. As if in a meditative trance, he continued. Plate by plate, weld by weld. The cracks slowly began closing. He didn¡¯t hurry, taking his time to feel out every plate before positioning it carefully. The way the tension slowly left him felt incredible. He lost track of time as he immersed himself in the feeling of just¡ª letting go.


    At some point, all of the negative emotions were gone, and the only thing that he was left with, was a warm comfortable feeling of content.


    Good, I''m ready, he thought, exiting his mindscape.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As he opened his eyes and rose from his bed, he looked over at his cargo ship, the Heidenreich-B786.


    Squinting his eyes, he inspected the ship closely. It appeared undamaged. Seems the Hammers of Fortune kept their word and flew it back to the factory before the ambush. That''s good. I should find some way to thank them properly in the future.


    He took stock of his current situation. He was free from the bounty that¡¯d been placed on his head. The organization that had gone after him had been crushed. And with the academy now backing him, he wouldn¡¯t get siderailed into prison again. Life was good.


    Ronin scratched his chin, thinking. There¡¯s still the issue of money though¡­


    Receiving 80% of the 800 million credits he and Nagata had taken from the CLM, he¡¯d originally started with 640 million. Buying the factory, the heromaker, patents, mercenaries and a range of other things, had shrunken his fortune down to 530 million credits. In other words, he''d lost over 100 million credits in 3 months.


    If he kept this up, he''d eventually run out of money. He needed a new design project; one he could make credits from.


    Just as Ronin began planning for the future, Simons, along with a security guard, entered the factory.


    ¡°Good morning, you¡¯ve just woken up?¡±


    ¡°Yeah... Well, sort of. Had a rough day yesterday,¡± Ronin grunted back.


    ¡°You do look rather disheveled,¡± Simons said, nodding to himself. ¡°My father always emphasizes the importance of grooming yourself properly, no matter where you are, you always need to¡ª¡± As Simons started going on about his father, like he often did, Ronin tuned him out, pinging his implant.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Do I really look that bad?


    He did a quick scan of his body, then pulled up a hologram of himself. Yeah... he looked terrible, but he also noticed something else... His height, had changed¡­ He was now 175 centimeters tall, 1 centimeter taller than before. It wasn¡¯t much, but still, he¡¯d supposedly stopped growing years ago. For him to suddenly start growing taller again?


    This shouldn¡¯t be happening. Could it be the Kalvrakian embrace? Are the stances making me grow somehow?


    ¡°¡ªSo, what do you think? A racing ship sounds good, yes? err, Ronin?¡± Simons asked, apparently having moved on from talking about his father.


    Shaken out of his pondering, Ronin apologized, ¡°s-sorry, y-you were saying?¡±


    ¡°You really are tired,¡± Simons breathed out. ¡°You shouldn''t be pushing yourself so hard. Though you''ve been catching up to me fast in terms of design skills, it won''t do you any good if you burn out before reaching your full potential.¡±


    ¡°No no no, don''t worry about that. There''s plenty of fuel left in this tank,¡± Ronin chuckled, looking at Simons mischievously. ¡°Perhaps you should worry about yourself instead? I''ve seen how you get after a few hours on the assembler.¡±


    Ignoring the verbal jab, Simons restated his earlier question, ¡°listen, as I was saying earlier, I¡¯ve been thinking about a new design project, and I think a racing ship is the way to go.¡±


    Furrowing his brows, Ronin worked the idea over¡­The professional racing circuit is extremely expensive, but it also has high margins if your brand makes it. There is no way, however, for a small company like ours to compete in such a competitive market¡­ Don¡¯t tell me. Does Simons just want to¡­


    A slight smile formed on Ronin''s lips. ¡°Simons¡­ you just want to design a racing ship, don¡¯t you? There¡¯s no way we¡¯d be able to sell something like that.¡±


    Simons bald head began rapidly shaking, ¡°Eherm, no, I would never have such selfish thoughts¡ª¡±


    Ronin raised an arm, ¡°¡ªRelaax¡­ Hmm, besides¡­ there might just be a way to design a racing ship and to actually be able to sell it as well¡­ Though, the way to do it will have to be a little unorthodox.¡±


    Simons perked up. ¡°Oh?¡±


    The guard following Simons began laughing, ¡°Ronin was right! Although I''d have to admit, racing ships are kind of cool. If I was a designer like you, Simons, I''d want to make one myself as well.¡±


    As the bald designer was busy getting embarrassed for trying to push company policy for personal benefit, Ronin added, ¡°If we are to make a racing ship, we''ll first have to visit someplace first. You alright with that? You can come too Nimitri, if you¡¯d like?¡±


    Receiving a nod in response from the both of them, Ronin sent them the time and location of the event, then headed for the biorinser.


    Reaching the familiar chamber, he chose the standard chemical package, and the biorinser activated. Tiny holes inside the chamber opened up and began spraying him with all kinds of different chemicals.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Shortly after, a new and refreshed Ronin was sitting on a couch, lazily flipping through a document on materials science.


    If he was going to make a racing ship, two things quickly became evident. First, he''d need to use a strong material for the frame of the ship. A racing ship would be exposed to much higher strains compared to other types of ships and if he skimped out on this, the ship would tear itself apart.


    Secondly, he''d also need to use as light of a material as possible. Racing ships had to accelerate fast and make rapid turns, and the lighter the ship was, the faster it would be.


    Hours passed as he continued looking into all kinds of different materials. One section in the text in particular, described a type of carbon nanotube-based alloy. Looking further into how the material functioned and was made, he opened up a 900-page long document.


    As he began reading through the tome, it became evident that the carbon-alloy was neither the lightest, nor the strongest material out there, but it was cheap. It was also something he had the equipment to make. Though it required a complicated process to manufacture, he didn¡¯t mind the challenge.


    He almost lost track of time as he delved further into the wonders of this material. For a technology, thousands of years old to still be relevant to this day is almost unheard of. Carbon truly is the most incredible element in the universe. Not only is it the crucial ingredient for life, but it''s also essential to materials science as well.


    After reaching halfway through the tome, he checked the time. It wasn''t long until that special event would take place.


    Accessing his implant, he sent Simons and Nimitri a message:


    [Alright, you guys ready!?]


    Simons walked over from the design studio and the guard, Nimitri, soon walked over as well.


    ¡°We''ve been waiting for this thing for quite a few hours now, hopefully it doesn''t disappoint,¡± Simons said, receiving a nod of agreement from Nimitri.


    Ronin shrugged his shoulders, but the shameless grin he gave them, gave it away. ¡°You¡¯ll see once we get there.¡±


    He called a shuttle, and they headed for district 92. The place they were heading to wasn''t far from Ronin''s previous home. It¡¯s why he even knew it existed in the first place. You had to be in the know to find a place like this¡ª or, get an invite if you had the right friends. One thing was certain, you¡¯d never hear of a place like this on the net.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As the shuttle flew across the city, descending into the deep, sunless valley of district 92, a stream of neon lights, loud groovy music, laughs and the revving of engines met the trio.


    Ronin could see people dancing, whilst others stood off to the side with drinks in their hands. Some just drank in the atmosphere, vibing along with the mood. There were people sitting upon shuttles, others on top of overhangs. To the side, people were grilling and selling food, adding in new scents to the air.


    ¡°Kiboris, fresh kiboris! Come have a taste!¡± Someone shouted from a stall.


    Shuttles colored with all kinds of unique and personalized designs filled the street. From super black ships, stylized with bold fat orange text, to saturated, red-colored ships, covered in intricate designs. Every ship had a personality. Every ship had a name.


    ¡°What sort of place is this?¡± Simons asked.


    ¡°You wanted to make a racing ship, right?¡± Ronin began as he started walking towards one of the stalls. ¡°This here is the place where enthusiasts gather to discuss, look at, and compete. If you¡¯ve got a cool ship, this is the place to show it. If you¡¯ve got a fast ship, this is where you race.¡±


    As Ronin started ordering a couple sticks of kibori, Simons erupted, ¡°don¡¯t tell me¡­ is this a gathering for illegal street racing!?¡±


    ¡°¡ªShhh, not so loud!¡± Ronin hushed. ¡°If you shout like that, we¡¯ll all be thrown out.¡±


    ¡°I would have to somewhat agree with Simons on this,¡± Nimitri said, his voice turning stern. ¡°I did not expect I¡¯d be guarding a company involved with crime when I was assigned here.¡±


    Shaking his head, Ronin breathed out in exasperation, ¡°Listen, this was never about designing illegal ships. Look at those ships displayed along the street. Were they illegal when their owners bought them?¡±


    Simons eyes shot up, ¡°don¡¯t tell me¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ every single one of these ships are illegal only because the people who bought them, modified them. The companies who originally made them, followed the law perfectly. Think about it! What if we made a racing ship, perfectly in line with today''s regulations, but we deliberately made it easy to modify.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that could actually work! Extra space for additional boosters, an engine that can be easily replaced or modified¡­¡± Simons began, getting more and more excited as he talked.


    Ronin nodded eagerly, then handed Simons one of the kibori sticks he¡¯d just bought. ¡°Now you¡¯re catching on. Here, some food before the show starts.¡±


    Chomping down on the freely offered stick of food, loud crunching sounds rang out as Simons closed his eyes in delight. ¡°What an incredible flavor! Where in the world did you learn about this Ronin? For it to have such a unique taste¡­¡±


    Off to the side, Nimitri made an awkward expression as Ronin began explaining. ¡°I agree, kibori is far above the average nutrient pack. I¡¯d imagine it¡¯d normally be hard to come by now as well, considering there''ve been so many ruddles roaming around lately.¡±


    ¡°Ruddles? What do you mean?¡± Simons mumbled out; his mouth filled with food.


    Before Ronin had the chance to, Nimitri coughed awkwardly and replied, ¡°kibori is made from six legged yellowish insectoids about the size of a man¡¯s palm. They¡¯re one of the few remaining creatures endemic to the planet and a favorite snack of ruddles.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Simons nearly spat out the food he was eating. ¡°I¡¯m eating bugs?!¡± He looked outraged ¡ª though, that being said, it did not stop him from continuing to chew. Ronin spotted him swallowing another mouthful. He really must have liked that kibori, and Ronin could see why.


    ¡°What are you getting so descriptive for Nimitri? It¡¯s tasty!¡± Ronin mumbled out in between mouthfuls, having already begun eating his own stick of kibori.


    Nimitri was about to respond but was interrupted by the commotion happening down the street.


    A gray colored rinky-dink shuttle was descending amongst the racing ships. It stuck out like a sore thumb as it landed next to the other, much fancier ships, but the crowd forming around it, did not seem to mind.


    ¡°Look, it¡¯s the speed demon!¡± Ronin heard someone shout over the music.


    Speed demon?


    The door of the gray shuttle opened, and a red-haired man dressed in a red and black racing suit walked out. From behind, Ronin could hear Simons, his melodic voice sounding baffled as he asked, ¡°Hey, doesn¡¯t that look like¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­Yeah, I think it is,¡± Ronin finished.


    Walking out of the gray shuttle was none other than Cadet Haraken!


    ¡°He¡¯s the shining star of the space-force academy, why in the world would he be here!?¡± Simons¡¯s voice sounded shaky.


    Raising his eyebrows, Ronin glanced back at his bald companion. ¡°Why don¡¯t we find out?¡±


    ¡°Hey, Haraken! Over here!" He shouted, waving at the man.


    Whereas Nimitri only looked confused, unaware of how famous Haraken really was, Simons was busy hiding behind Ronin. ¡°Put your hand down. Are you crazy? Don¡¯t call him over!¡± he hissed.


    It was too late however, as Haraken had already turned his head, beginning to make his way towards the trio in a hurry.

 Chapter 33: Cadet Haraken

    Cadet Haraken rapidly approached Ronin and his two companions. As he reached them, it was apparent the man was angry. Stepping up close in a threatening manner, he immediately began questioning them:


    ¡°Who are you people? Why would you use that name!?¡±


    Ronin could feel Simons shrinking back behind him.


    ¡°Whoa! Calm down! Is that not your name?¡± Ronin asked, a bit bewildered by the sudden aggression.


    The red-haired young man, leaning in even closer, silently hissed, ¡°listen man, I don¡¯t know what your problem is, but don¡¯t use that name around here. This is the only fun I get to have for myself when I¡¯m not at the academy. Don¡¯t think I lack the power to ruin your lives. One word from me and nobody will ever be willing to hire you ever again!¡±


    So that''s what got him so worked up. Ronin mentally slapped himself. Haraken was likely using a code name in order to stay under the radar. And if it was discovered that the space-force academy''s star student spent his free time engaging in illegal street racing, it would likely cause a scandal for the academy. With how famous Haraken was, his code name was probably the only shield he had against government surveillance.


    ¡°I¡¯m from the academy too, and I don¡¯t use a code name,¡± Ronin began, attempting to explain himself.


    Well, he did have something akin to a code name, but being called the defiler was not exactly the same as being called Speed demon. Not to mention that the individual known as the defiler was currently wanted by the government for engaging in bioterrorism.


    As Haraken furrowed his brows, Ronin hastily continued, ¡°¡ªwe just didn¡¯t know it was a big deal, okay?¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± The legendary genius asked, still suspicious.


    ¡°Of course!¡± Ronin nodded then reached out for a handshake. ¡°Name''s Ronin Maximus by the way, nice to meet you.¡±


    Haraken didn''t shake his hand, but he at least seemed to calm down a little. Looking over the trio, he asked, ¡°what are you guys here for anyways? Are you planning to join the race as well?¡±


    Simons, having worked up his courage to talk, began answering in that melodic voice of his he was swiftly becoming known for. ¡°No no, we¡¯d never compete with one such as yourself, eherm, Speed demon. We¡¯re here because we plan to design a racing ship, and you fine gentlemen are just the type of customers we¡¯re looking for.¡±


    ¡°Hang on... You''re from the Simons family?¡± Haraken seemed to have noticed something and was staring intently at the bald designer. Simons began shuffling his feet, looking down at the ground as Haraken continued, ¡°to think a member of one of the 10 great families would be here of all places.¡± His face broke into a knowing smirk. ¡°I see I¡¯m not the only one skirting the law to get what I want. Perhaps we could come to an agreement?¡±


    Before Simons had the chance to answer, Ronin stepped in. ¡°Absolutely! In fact, we¡¯ll even happily hand over the first ship we make to you, free of charge.¡±


    Haraken looked pleasantly surprised, probably not expecting to be offered a racing ship right out of the gate. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly what I had in mind, but it sounds like a very generous offer. In fact, it sounds a little bit too generous... there''s a catch, right?¡±


    ¡°There is,¡± Ronin agreed. ¡°It¡¯s a minor thing really. Just fly our ship when you race. We want brand recognition, and if our ships win races, more people will buy them.¡±


    Haraken nodded in understanding.


    All in all, this chance encounter was turning out rather well. As they began negotiating a deal for the upcoming design project, Ronin could tell Haraken really wanted a new ship. He was also being very specific about the ship being untraceable and off the books, and Ronin exploited that for all it was worth. Before long, they''d finalized an agreement, and it was time for the race to start.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Did that really happen just now?!¡± Simons exclaimed, giddy with excitement. ¡°That¡¯s cadet freaking Haraken! And you not only got him to fly our brand, but to act as a test pilot as well!?¡±


    They looked at the retreating back of the famous pilot as he reached the gray ship, then entered.


    ¡°He¡¯s a thrill seeker. I¡¯ve known quite a few people like that over the years. Once I knew what he was like, it wasn¡¯t hard to convince him,¡± Ronin replied.


    Simons glanced back at Ronin. ¡°You mean to say¡ªhe¡¯s a thrill seeker like yourself? I heard how you fought those ruddles. You literally jumped into a swarm of them.¡±


    ¡°Sigh¡­ Yeah I guess,¡± Ronin begrudgingly admitted. It was a part of him as well, that need for adrenaline, that tiny spark, just waiting for something to come along and ignite it.


    ¡°¡ªGuys, something seems to be happening!¡± Nimitri interrupted.


    Along the skyscrapers lining the street, huge holoscreens descended. Covering the entire side of each building, they spanned maybe a hundred meters in length and twice that in height. In fact, the screens were so enormous, the entire venue lit up, and Ronin could see several people covering their eyes.


    A voice, amplified with the aid of speakers, began announcing over the music: [To the old familiars¡ªyou know what to expect, the betting pools are open!] Chuckles could be heard amongst the crowd filling the street, and the announcer continued, [¡ªand to our new arrivals¡ªwelcome to our humble event! We have ourselves quite the lineup today!]


    The announcer began listing up ships and their respective drivers, and the massive screens, as if following along with the man''s every word, displayed each craft the moment its name was called.


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    More and more types of ships began filling the massive screen. From elongated, thin crafts, specialized in cutting through the air as efficiently as possible, to crafts with oversized thrusters, looking more like a rocket than something someone would drive. Every new racing ship was simply bursting with personality, and Ronin couldn''t get enough of it.


    Time passed as the holoscreens filled up, and eventually, it was Harakens turn.


    [Up next, we have todays favorite, the Zabura-B9 and its driver¡ªSpeed demon!]


    The matt-gray shuttle came up on screen, not looking like it had been modified at all. In fact, it looked like something someone''s grandmother would drive. It didn¡¯t belong here. The excitement building in the air however, told a different story. People began raising their hands and the crowd roared as the atmosphere seemed to ignite.


    In response, Haraken revved the engine, and the already crazed crowd, went even wilder.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    A few more ships were listed. But it did not take long before the last ship was called, and it was time for the race to start.


    [Are you ready?] the announcer shouted over the speakers and the crowd cheered back in anticipation.


    [3. 2. 1. Go!]


    The race was on, and the ships took off, their drive plumes burning long scorch marks along the ground.


    As the ships shot ahead at full speed; it did not take long before they were out of sight... but the giant holoscreens were there for a reason.


    Cameras, each installed onto a racing ship for just this very moment, turned on as films began streaming. Everyone got to see in clear detail how each ship moved, turning corner after corner whilst doing their best to dodge the oncoming civilian traffic. The racing track was essentially a giant maze of neon lights and concrete, and the ships had to climb up several tens of kilometers as they moved up and out from the deep valley. Ronin quickly spotted the unremarkable, gray hulk belonging to Haraken.


    The screen did show him lagging behind the hundred or so other competitors in the beginning, but with every turn, he maintained more speed, catching up little by little.


    The real upset, however, did not occur until they reached the halfway point, and were turning back towards district 92.


    Harakens ship, right before turning around, suddenly activated thrusters installed at the lower end of its hull, gaining enormous speed along the turn. The gray hulk began passing both ships and skyscrapers with only centimeters to spare.


    As the crowd cheered, Ronin, Simons and Nimitri only stared at each other.


    ¡°Alright, now I see why he¡¯s famous,¡± Nimitri said, shaking his head at the absurdity of what had just happened.


    Nobody in their right mind flew that close. He should have crashed...He was supposed to have crashed... At those speeds, calculating how to drive through such a small gap was supposed to be impossible.


    But the craziness of the race didn¡¯t end there. Shortly after turning around, the ships began descending back down into the valley. Now flying downwards, Haraken could maintain much higher speeds. He began utilizing the ship''s side thrusters, narrowly avoiding both the competition as well as the nearby civilian crafts as he headed for the finish line.


    [Speed demon has taken the lead, but can he maintain it until the end!?] The announcer shouted as Haraken passed yet another ship.


    The rest of the track was downhill and with how Harakens lead just kept on increasing, that question was pretty much moot at this point.


    Simons looked over at his two companions. ¡°Getting Haraken on as a test pilot is pretty much the best decision we¡¯ve ever made.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­We''ve got to employ this guy permanently somehow,¡± Ronin agreed. ¡°I mean, I know why you called me a thrill seeker Simons, but this guy¡­ Void, I don¡¯t compare at all. Imagine what he could do with a proper ship.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As the race finished up, the giant holoscreens showed Speed demon clearly securing first place, being several seconds ahead of the rest. Haraken exited his shuttle to a cheering crowd, and Ronin¡¯s group went up to meet him.


    ¡°That was incredible sir!¡± Simons shouted after they¡¯d pushed through the crowd.


    ¡°Hahaha, I just love to race man! Did you see that turn halfway through the race?¡± Haraken laughed back.


    ¡°How did you even do that? I¡¯ve never seen anyone do something like that before, not even in the professional circuit!¡±


    The star pilot rolled his eyes, sighing, ¡°the maneuver is banned. It¡¯s actually part of the reason why I ended up here in the first place. These events are really the only places left where I actually get to challenge myself.¡± After thinking for a moment, Haraken followed up, ¡°By the way, want a tour around the place? I know a few of the drivers here. I¡¯m sure they¡¯d let you have a look at their ships if you¡¯d like?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be perfect, thanks,¡± Ronin said, clenching his fists in anticipation.


    The star pilot flashed a grin. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the ones making me a ship. The more you know about this stuff, the better my ship will be, right?¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    What followed was a grand tour of maybe 20 racing ships. Nimitri got bored after the first two, leaving Simons and Ronin alone to nerd out for hours.


    They got to see examples of anything from computer system overrides to turbo boosters and xenofuel drives. Eventually, Ronin almost had to be dragged away from an exhaust pipe he¡¯d found. Whomever modified that ship, had for some reason removed every single safety filter from the thing. It was as dirty as a mine spill, but he had to know how they¡¯d done it.


    With his violet-black academy suit covered in soot, they¡¯d walked up and stopped him before he could begin dismantling the pipe. Even Simons had gotten angry at him when they caught him in the act.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you; I could have easily put it back together again,¡± Ronin complained as they left the event.


    ¡°Maybe, but even with Haraken vouching for us, it¡¯s their ships. If we make him look bad, do you really think he¡¯d want to work for our company in the future?¡±


    Simons was right of course, but Ronin didn¡¯t think much of it. This day had been just what he¡¯d needed to take his mind of that eerily real dream. Working on his mental palace had helped a lot, of course. Getting neck deep in ship modifications though? Now that was a distraction!


    As they waited for a shuttle to pick them up, Simons seemed to be deep in thought, and the conversation died down.


    ¡°Thanks...¡± he finally said. ¡°My family¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don''t want to hear it,¡± Ronin cut him off. ¡°Whatever you choose to say, do so willingly. The company contract never involved you gushing out about your family.¡±


    Simons did a weak chuckle as he gave Ronin a thankful glance, but no more words were said on the topic.


    Ronin had been quite surprised at the revelation that Simons was from one of the most influential families in the kingdom. The kingdom of Tar had billions of citizens, but only 10 great families. Naturally, the influence of these families was enormous, and they controlled major sections of both the political landscape as well as industry. If Simons was affiliated with one of those families, even if it was one of their smaller branches, it could be of great benefit to Ronin.


    Still, this was Simons''s story to tell, and Ronin had plenty of secrets himself. If he acted like some sort of hypocrite and began pestering Simons for answers, he could lose what little friendship they''d built. Ronin wasn''t that kind of man, and he knew the importance of respecting other people''s boundaries.


    As the transport shuttle finally arrived, Ronin wiped some soot off his face, and they entered the airlock.

 Chapter 34: The stronger party

    Over the next few days, when not working on the new design project, Ronin spent his free time investigating his body and mind. That nightmare had left him with a bad feeling in his stomach and he needed to know what it meant.


    In order to inspect his body properly, he''d headed over to the black-market doctor Leyana Firnesse. She''d been very enthusiastic about helping him out. Maybe a little too enthusiastic. After having his entire body scanned with all kinds of equipment, she''d also taken blood and skin samples. He didn''t mind, as long as she destroyed the samples afterwards. But when she''d started asking for bone-marrow samples, running off to find some giant syringe she''d just bought, he''d had to put a stop to it. He might be desperate, but even desperation had its limits.


    Fortunately, the thorough bodily inspection had not revealed much. As with the last time he visited this place, they''d found elevated levels of anything from blood pressure to cell activity, but as for anything relating to that eerily real dream he''d had?


    No, there was nothing.


    When it came to his mind, however. Well... that was a different story. After spending hours going over his mindscape, surveying both his mind palace, as well as what lay beyond, he¡¯d noticed changes. More specifically, he''d noticed changes to his battle soul technique. The images of the figures guarding the edges of his mindscape had changed, becoming more distinct. But that was only the beginning of it.


    Upon closer inspection, he''d noticed thin, black, wiry strands now twisting around each and every one of those figures. For the lack of a better term, the figures felt more alive now. It was almost as if the black strands were infusing a form of life into them, turning them more real in the process.


    His battle soul technique had been the only thing protecting him in that place and for it to change like that, it could only mean one thing. That so-called dream had been real, and his death in that place would have meant death in reality as well.


    But though the battle soul technique had somehow saved his life, it had not been enough. Not by a long shot. He''d been a hairs breath away from dying in that place and if something like that happened again?


    No, never again, Ronin inwardly promised, walking up to his VR-chamber.


    This was a threat which could not be shoved aside, and the only way out, was through. But to get through, he needed to become stronger... much stronger.


    He put on the breathing mask and lowered himself into the nutrient-rich liquid, letting himself sink down into the chamber. As his vision shifted to the gothic-styled castle that was his VR-lobby, he quickly entered Glory in the Arena.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Arriving in the familiar colosseum, he felt the heat from the sunbaked sand below his feet, but he did not pay it any mind. He immediately began queuing up for matches. Not wasting any time in between each battle, he spent all his time, either in queue, or in combat. With his main focus still being on learning new moves, he hovered around a win rate of about 80%, and by the time he''d finished his 600th match, 5 hours had gone by.


    Feeling a slight strain on his mind, he thought about what to do next. Glancing over at his friends list, he saw the golden letters representing the girl who''d, not so long ago, had forcibly befriended him. Sleeping Empress.


    Such arrogance.


    What sort of person brute forces a friend request, only to ignore the man right after?


    He sent her a message, informing her of just that. Hopefully she¡¯d learn from her mistake and act less brazenly in the future.


    However, just as Ronin was looking away, a ding! sounded out, informing him of an incoming message.


    She responded? That was quick, he thought in surprise.


    Then the message began playing, and an arrogant female voice started speaking:


    [Inevitability, huh? They call you the copy warrior. How about it? Do you think you could copy me, little man?]


    Her every word was dripping with condescension, and he could practically feel her looking down on him. He immediately sent her a request for a match. This girl needed to be taught a lesson. Despite having just reached the early gold rank, he had already beaten some opponents in brackets above that, and this Sleeping Empress would be no different.


    Shortly after, Ronin saw a screen appear before him, but it was different from the normal azure-blue text boxes he¡¯d gotten used to by now. This one was golden.


    [Sleeping Empress has accepted your challenge.]


    [Enter match now? Yes/No?]


    Ronin was a bit taken aback. Golden text box? Could she be a high ranker or something?


    A little over a week ago, he¡¯d fought an opponent who struck the nerve points along the human body, crippling it in the process. It was an incredible style, and he''d been happily accepting every rematch the opponent offered as he attempted to learn it. But this... what could he learn from someone with the power to forcibly befriend other players? Someone the game gave golden text boxes? He couldn¡¯t wait to find out, choosing to enter the match right away.


    ¡°¡­¡±


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    Ronin¡¯s surroundings changed as the colosseum around him descended back into the ground. The sandy arena turned into a flowery field and a wooden fence rose up around him.


    Is this some sort of private arena? He wondered. He¡¯d never seen anything like this before.


    In front of him, a silver haired girl emerged, looking no older than 20. Her face was something out of a fairytale. Brown skin, green sparkling eyes, a perfectly fitted nose, and cheekbones so complimenting, they could have been sculpted by a master craftsman. She was so beautiful he struggled taking his eyes off her.


    But the arrogant girl had to be taught a lesson.


    The dark voice, distinctive to Glory in the Arena, began counting down as Ronin readied himself for the fight. Lowering himself down, he relaxed his muscles, and as the count finally reached zero, every single muscle in his body tensed at the same time as he bolted forward. He quickly reached the girl, throwing out a couple of probing jabs first to test the waters. Tilting her head, she dodged the strikes gracefully with only millimeters to spare.


    She¡¯s good, he admitted.


    Changing his approach, he opted for his new nerve point striking technique, opening up his fists as he tried striking a pressure point along her shoulder.


    CRACK!


    One of his fingers was intercepted by an elbow, breaking in the process and he heard her scoff arrogantly:


    ¡°I¡¯ve fought men much better than you in Koshijutsu!¡±


    They could talk during battle now? Another new development.


    Closing the distance, he attempted to bring her down with a takedown, but as he was about to grab her, he noticed a closed fist. Is she planning to strike me from this distance? We¡¯re not even half a meter apart! It couldn¡¯t possibly¡ª


    BOOM!


    As the fist connected with his stomach, the impossible happened. His entire body bent over as it flew across the field, not stopping until he crashed into the fence.


    [Defeat!]


    ¡°...¡±


    Waking up in the same flowery field soon after, Ronin immediately requested a rematch. As the dark voice of the arena once again counted down towards zero, the 2nd battle commenced. He tried fighting at a distance this time, using every trick he could think of to bring her down. It, however, quickly became evident he wouldn¡¯t be winning this one either. Sleeping Empress somehow closed the distance between them in an instant, and just like last time, Ronin found himself flying across the field.


    Back first, he crashed into the hardwood fence, defeated for the 2nd time in a row today.


    But this wasn¡¯t even the worst of it. Every move the girl made was generic and styleless. There was nothing for him to learn from or improve upon. The only real technique he could learn from her was that short distance punch she¡¯d used, but¡­ A punch that strong was an impossibility no matter which way he looked at it. Be it torque, acceleration or the weight of the human body, with the limitations of the game, you simply couldn¡¯t generate that much force, no matter what.


    He glared at her with suspicion in his eyes. If she could set up these special battle arenas, talk mid-fight, perhaps she could make herself stronger than the opponent as well?


    ¡°No,¡± the frowning girl''s voice broke through his musings as if she could read his mind.


    ¡°Then how!¡± He groaned back. He needed to know.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Sleeping Empress smiled playfully, leaning forward as she poked her own body. ¡°If you can touch me first, I might consider telling you, but you...¡± She let out a breath in disappointment, ¡°¡ªcan''t even do that, can you?¡±


    Frustrated, Ronin requested another rematch. The only cards left to play were Presenceless and Snapshot. He¡¯d never attempted these techniques in VR before, and he wasn¡¯t sure they¡¯d work. But if they did work¡­ how large would the strain on his mind become? He wasn¡¯t exactly using this machine responsibly, having removed its safety filters and all.


    As the game¡¯s omnipresent voice, once again, started counting down, Ronin silently murmured, ¡°Apocalypse,¡± and the match began.


    Not too far away from Ronin¡¯s factory, Elsa Tulsi was walking home from yet another job interview. She¡¯d found an add on the concordia net seeking a secretary position for a marketing company. This wasn''t her first rodeo this month. She¡¯d been turned down in several previous interviews, but with this job, she really might get the position!


    Not that she¡¯d give up if she was turned down. She¡¯d never stop looking. Ronin had saved both her and her son''s life, giving them a second chance. Never again would she have to sell her body for food, never again would she starve. Her small family finally had the possibility of a real life ahead of them.


    A life of hope, she inwardly whispered to herself.


    As Ronin had said, she¡¯d waited for him to demand something of her. To play her like all the others. A helping hand always came with a cost, but in this case¡­ it seemed he''d really just wanted to help. She felt her heart warm every time she thought about it.


    I will have to thank him the next time I see him, but how do you thank a man who has already given so much?


    The sound of a crying child broke her out of her thoughts. What was that? It was coming from the alleyway¡­


    She turned, then started walking towards the narrow passage. Why would a small child be left alone like that? It would have been normal in the slums, but here?


    As she entered the passage, Elsa saw a small, brown-haired girl no more than maybe 6 or 7 years old. Tears fell down the small girls freckled cheeks as she seemed to be in great pain.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter little one? Where are your parents?¡± Elsa asked, moving closer.


    ¡°I¡­I, help,¡± the small girl replied, her words coming out as unclear amidst the tears.


    Elsa put her hand on the little girl''s shoulder, feeling a sense of weakness befall her as she did.


    Strange... What was going on? Why would she feel tired all of a sudden? She¡¯d just slept a few hours ago¡­


    The child stopped crying, and its weak snuffles were replaced by a hoarse cackling only something much older could make.


    Elsa now had to fight just to stay conscious. She looked down at the hand touching the girl''s shoulder. It had turned wrinkled and old. She tried to pull it away, but it wouldn¡¯t move.


    The tiny brown-haired girl began changing, growing larger. Elsa, on the other hand, only felt herself growing weaker and weaker...was she dying? When she saw what the small girl was turning into however, a far greater fear than death overcame her.


    Her son¡ªScrabby¡ªwas in grave danger!


    In front of the now wrinkled Elsa stood a woman, looking exactly as she had before she''d entered the passage. The creature, now a mirror image of Elsa, flashed a hungry grin as it licked its lips. "Soon Ronin... soon," it whispered to itself, exiting the narrow street.

 Chapter 35: Transcendence

    ¡°Have you ever heard of the phenomenon where a person is somehow able to use more strength than they should? More than should be possible?¡± Sleeping Empress asked, her previously perfect face now showing faint swelling.


    Trying his best to ignore the piercing headache, Ronin considered the question. ¡°No¡­ I can¡¯t say I have.¡±


    During their match, Ronin had somehow managed to land a punch on the girl. His Presenceless technique had worked. Though it had only distracted her briefly, it had created the opening he needed, letting him momentarily slip past her guard.


    He wouldn¡¯t be fighting any more in VR today though ¡ª not with the state his mind was in now.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Sleeping Empress pondered, daintily stroking her chin.


    After a short moment, she exclaimed: ¡°Oh, this should serve as an adequate example!¡±


    She began gesturing with her hands: ¡°Imagine a shuttle toppling over a child. Now, the child''s mother should not be able to lift this heavy shuttle. It should by all accounts be impossible, but in a desperate attempt to save her own child, she does.¡±


    Ronin''s eyes shot up. ¡°Wait! So that''s what you''re talking about? Isn''t that just some old folk tale?¡± He furrowed his brows tentatively, ¡°you mean to say it is not a myth?¡±


    Sleeping Empress gently nodded her head. ¡°It''s far more than a myth. In fact, we''ve known about this for a long time, and there''s been plenty of explanations for it over the years.¡± The beautiful girl wet her lips, then began explaining: ¡°Long ago scientists believed themselves to have found the solution. They argued that, when faced with the extreme situation of, for example, losing one''s own child under a crashed shuttle, the fight-or-flight response of the person would activate. This would, in turn, lead to their body being flooded with adrenaline, thus giving them enough strength to lift the shuttle.¡±


    Ronin was confused. ¡°¡ªBut this is a virtual game. A little adrenaline flooding your body in real space shouldn¡¯t affect anything relating to your strength here.¡±


    The girl acknowledged the statement with a slight nod. ¡°Indeed, that would have been true if the science had been right, but as time passed, we soon discovered many cases of individuals breaking the fight-or-flight theory. Some people simply displayed too much strength for just adrenaline to be enough¡­ so, we came up with new theories.¡±


    She began raising her fingers, one by one as she continued: ¡°We came up with the rare gene theory, which claims that the increase in strength can also come from some individuals possessing rare genes. But, alas, that also wasn¡¯t enough, and we began claiming that this impossible strength, came from some people overriding their own mind''s self-preservation instincts. This would effectively allow them to use 100% of their body''s innate strength ¡ª in spite of their own body''s destruction.¡±


    Ronin, now entirely transfixed by the conversation, couldn''t help but blurt out: ¡°But using 100% of the body¡¯s innate strength wasn¡¯t enough either, was it? None of these theories explains how a virtual body in a game can become stronger.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ this dilemma of finding explanations for this strange increase in human strength, then later finding out that the theories are insufficient, has been going on for millennia. We call this the human potential paradox and there¡¯s still no scientific answer for this.¡±


    ¡°You said scientific, but what about other explanations?¡± He asked.


    When he received the Potentia Panorama, in his vision, he¡¯d seen planets destroyed from the mere aftershocks left behind by the four-armed alien¡¯s fight.


    Could this be another path to power?


    The girl closed one of her fists, then stared intently into Ronin''s eyes, her voice blazing with passion: ¡°Willpower! It all has to do with the mind, but what we tap into isn¡¯t neurons, adrenaline, genes or anything like that. Those things are merely side effects. Willpower is a force in and of itself that can directly affect the physical world, and it doesn''t end with just an increase in bodily strength. That is only the beginning.¡±


    ¡°Affect the physical world!? Do you mean like moving objects with your mind or something?¡± This was it! There were others out there, just like himself. People with powers!


    ¡°I¡¯ve already said enough. In this world, knowledge is a resource, and resources can only be exchanged for other resources, but¡ª¡± she paused, did something with her hands and a ping sounded out, notifying Ronin of an incoming message.


    ¡°Plug this address into your quantum net portal and it will lead you to the Transhumanist Collective. It¡¯s a group that organizes and shares all kinds of knowledge relating to human transcendence. If you have star coins, or knowledge of your own, you can find what you¡¯re looking for there.¡±


    With that, she ended the conversation, closing her fingers into a fist as she cocked back her arm.


    ¡°Wait! What are you¡ª¡± Ronin began before a powerful punch crashed onto his head, ending the temporarily halted match.


    Ronin, now with his face solidly planted into the ground, heard the game voice announce his defeat, then was promptly kicked from the lobby.


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    ¡°¡­¡±


    When he came to, he was once again back in the standard sandy colosseum.


    Ugh, couldn¡¯t she have just cancelled the match? He grumbled, rubbing his head.


    Regarding what she¡¯d said though¡­ perhaps he should pay that site a visit. This was the first piece of information he¡¯d heard of something related to the alien artifact. Though his abilities didn¡¯t seem to come from willpower, they, at least, should operate on something similar.


    The Transhumanist collective, huh?


    Doing his best to ignore the worsening headache, he exited the game and entered in the address he''d been given. Within seconds, the dark-blue interface before him queried him on the change:


    [Unregistered URL detected]


    [Proceed? Yes/No]


    He quickly affirmed his decision and entered the new site as his lobby began changing.


    The carpeted stone floor was replaced by an ebony-colored continuous surface, the walls shifted into a faintly yellowish-white material, his red-velvet chair changed into a stylish white ball chair, and the swaying meadow outside his windows was replaced by a sea of stars scattered within a purple-colored nebula.


    Finally, intermixed black and white futuristic-looking stations with rounded edges rose up from the ground, and the several screens placed within them, turned on. Every screen showed a double helix, rotating under a row of bold letters. The letters only spelled out two words:


    Transhumanist collective...So, she wasn''t lying...


    Walking up to a station, Ronin entered the database and began looking for information. Rows upon rows of articles appeared, but they all seemed to cost star coins to read.


    Looking into this new currency, Ronin found he could exchange other currencies for star coins, but not the other way around. Tar credits, however, could not be exchanged. It was not even listed.


    Seems Tar truly is a backwaters kingdom... Ronin thought, frowning as he began looking for something he actually could read.


    Scrolling down the lists of posts, he eventually happened upon a free article. It seemed to be some sort of general introduction on the paths to human transcendence.


    He skimmed through the article, and, at least from what the author claimed, there were two main paths one could take:


    One of these paths, were, as Sleeping Empress had said, through willpower. The other path was related to intuition and what some would call the 6th sense, allowing for abilities involving things such as psychometry and retrocognition. Ronin, however, found nothing related to the Potentia Panorama.


    There was no mention of anything resembling the anomalous energy emanating from the alien artifact. In fact, there did not seem to be any mention of any energy whatsoever. Ronin frowned. Seems I¡¯ll have to start earning star coins if I want something more relevant.


    He decided to write a couple of texts describing how Presenceless and the Kalvrakian embrace worked. It was unlikely the techniques would work without the alien artifact, but if someone out there was actually stupid enough to buy the information, he¡¯d at least get the funds needed to begin his own research.


    After writing how the techniques worked, how to perform them, as well as some detailed illustrations where needed, he set the price to 1 star coin per article, then pressed publish.


    What''s the worst that can happen? He thought, rubbing his hands together as he exited VR. Some bad customer reviews? Technically, he hadn¡¯t written anything false.


    Somewhere along the spur of Cygnus, within the W51 nebula, a desperate man entered VR. He¡¯d been logging in here every day for months now. Being from an old aristocratic family, Conrad had lost everything he''d ever cared about during the revolution. He¡¯d seen his mother, father and sister being hauled off for an interrogation they¡¯d never returned from, and he was angry. No. Something far beyond that. He knew no words which could describe the rage he was feeling. But he did know one thing ¡ª he would stop at nothing for his vengeance.


    He once again entered the Transhumanist collective¡¯s information site, looking for anything new that could help him make things right.


    That was when he spotted it. Two new articles, listed for only a single star coin each.


    He could afford that¡­


    The two articles'' abstract not only promised greater physical strength, but stealth as well. It was the perfect techniques for a would-be assassin. The perfect techniques for vengeance. Physical strength was not something some random detector would pick up. He would appear as unassuming as any random passerby. He wouldn''t be stopped as he approached the nations false leaders. It would be the last thing they''d look out for when he made the killing blow.


    He purchased the techniques, left VR, then immediately began training according to the illustrations, feeling euphoric as he made the first stance. The very energies of the universe itself seemed to flow into him, entering his body as they began strengthening every part of it¡­


    It was then he noticed something else entering him as well...


    Something parasitic that most definitely did not belong. Along with those magical energies, there was¡­something foul¡­something rotten.


    A defilement.


    He bent over, dry heaving at the horrific thing inside of him, but the strength he¡¯d felt¡­


    The feeling of doing those stances was too addictive, he needed more! If he got his vengeance, he could bear the rot. No, he would bear it.


    Unbeknownst to Conrad, his need for vengeance, which was already almost all consuming, swelled, becoming even greater.


    He quickly entered VR again, leaving a positive review under one of the articles. He wasn¡¯t quite sure why, but he felt that more people needed to know about this new path to power.


    It needed to spread¡­

 Chapter 36: Skinwalker

    Exiting the VR-chamber, Ronin dried himself off, then headed over towards his weightlifting area. The VR-chamber, which had previously been enough to tire him out, was no longer sufficient and his body now needed more punishment for him to progress with his stances.


    Weight plates, power lifting machines and barbells littered the floor, occupying a large section besides his bed. Originally, the area had been used to house ship construction equipment, but this building was his home now, and he needed the space.


    If push comes to shove, I¡¯ll just expand the factory, Ronin thought, walking over to the squat rack.


    He wasn''t planning on moving out anytime soon and, for now, he had all the equipment he needed and space enough to house it anyways.


    He began loading large 100-kilogram plates onto the barbell upon the rack. He¡¯d had to personally 3-D print those weights himself as his body grew stronger. And as for his barbells? After his normal steel ones began bending, he¡¯d been forced to print the new ones out of Kangdarium alloy, the same material his warsuit was made from. In addition, to make sure the weightlifting rods wouldn''t bend; he''d even chemically treated them after, hardening them even further.


    After placing 7 plates on each side of the bar, he fastened them tight with clamps, then placed his shoulders under the now 1.4-ton heavy weight. With a push from his legs, he lifted it off the rack, then began doing squats.


    While exercising, he pinged his Uninet-2000, pulling up the racing ships he and Simons had been considering modifying. There was design work to do, and if they didn''t make a ship quick, Haraken might back out of the deal.


    No way I''m letting that happen, Ronin promised, inspecting the hologram before him. Hmm, considering Haraken''s tendency of making sharp turns, the Eluvian might be better...


    By now, they¡¯d narrowed the candidates down to two ships: A Penroxian-G54 model, 6 meters in length and about 3 meters wide at the tail end. It got a bit wide there at the end due to the heavy thruster installed on it, but its designers had done a good job, and it fit in with the overall form of the ship.


    The other candidate, the Eluvian-A7 was smaller and had less engine space. In return, it could easily accommodate side thrusters. Though this ship was slower than the Penrox, it had much higher mobility, and if Ronin knew Haraken, he''d drive fast enough by himself anyways.


    He bought the patent for the Eluvian, then finished up the set of squats. Putting on a 350 kilograms heavy body vest, he headed for the pull up rack ¡ª now, it was time for the upper body to take some punishment¡­


    Returning from school, Scrabby tried his best to show a happy face. No matter how hard things got, his mother always showered him with hugs and kisses if he smiled when he came back home. Though embarrassing, he secretly enjoyed it ¡ª not that he would ever admit to that. Heroes like Ronin stood brave in the face of the scary and sad things and most assuredly did not need a mother to hug them!


    Though he didn¡¯t fit in at school for now, he¡¯d been told that things would eventually get better. He hoped that meant soon.


    Opening the door and entering his new house, he did his best to smile, but his mother... Why was she standing alongside the wall like that, vacantly staring into the air?


    Strange¡­ she always came to him with a warm smile when he entered. With the rest of her body still unmoving, his mother turned her head eerily as a smile began slowly forming across her lips.


    But this smile was different.


    Scrabby started shivering as dread and confusion filled him. Was this his mother?


    ¡°Come here little one,¡± the woman said.


    No, it couldn''t be! Though the sound of her voice was the same, the way she¡¯d said it¡­


    ¡°If you don¡¯t come to me¡­ I¡¯ll come to YOU!¡±


    Scrabby began hyperventilating as confusion turned to terror.


    step, step, step, step


    The woman moved unnaturally fast, reaching him in an instant. Swiftly, he was grabbed by the neck, and he heard her sharply draw breath as she did. It was almost as if she was holding herself back for some reason. She lifted his tiny form up into the air and he smelled a strong stench of old sweat ooze off the woman. It was thick and oily in texture, almost entering his nose like a liquid as it enveloped him. She drew him in close and Scrabby could feel a wet tongue travelling up the side of his chin.


    ¡°Yesss, you will do just nicely,¡± the woman hummed softly in pleasure, any similarity to his real mother now completely gone.


    Ronin was in the middle of doing his Kalvrakian embrace stances when he got the message.


    Apparently, something was wrong with Scrabby, and from Elsa''s message, she''d sounded really worried about it. She didn¡¯t go into details on what it could be though. She''d also warned him not to contact the authorities.


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    What could cause her to act like that? This was her own son they were talking about. And why would she send me such a cryptic message? He wondered, walking over to the heromaker suit.


    As he walked into the flame-patterned armor, its gears and servos worked as it closed in around him. Stepping out onto the runway, he entered a shuttle he''d called down earlier, then paid the driver as he leaned back into a seat.


    Hopefully this was only some minor thing, and Elsa was worrying over nothing.


    The peaceful, open streets common to the higher districts, passed by underneath as the ship took off. He saw neighbors greeting neighbors, people smiling and children playing outside. There was a casual ease in the way people moved here, very much unlike his old apartment down in district 91.


    As the shuttle landed, he walked up a couple of floors, arriving in front of the small family¡¯s apartment.


    He tapped the door a few times:


    Knock, knock, knock


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there in a second!¡± He heard Elsa shout from within the apartment.


    She did sound a little distressed, but he¡¯d expected more ¡ª considering the situation. After some tussle and bustle, the door opened, and he was met by a woman who could only be described as a shadow of her former self. There was a foul smell following her and she looked bedraggled and tired. There was a flicker in her eyes as she saw his suit, but with his headache being the way it was, he didn¡¯t notice.


    ¡°I can¡¯t express how happy I am that you came over!¡± Elsa said with a shaky voice.


    ¡°I told you to call if something ever came up. Now, how is he?¡±


    ¡°It would be better for you to come in and see for yourself.¡± She made way, allowing him entrance into the home.


    As he stepped in, then exited the power armor, he saw him. Scrabby¡¯s small body was laying down on the living room table, eyes vacant and unresponsive as they stared up at the ceiling. The child¡¯s skin was deathly pale, looking as if he''d already passed away. Fortunately, Ronin could see that the kid''s chest was still moving.


    At least he¡¯s breathing, Ronin inwardly sighed.


    ¡°Please, sit,¡± Elsa said, gesturing at the sofa besides Scrabby.


    As Ronin lowered himself down, sinking into the soft cushions, she came over with a couple of hot drinks, handing one over to Ronin before sitting down herself.


    Taking a sip from the cup, he tapped the table a couple of times as he stared at the mother questioningly.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m here now. Why haven¡¯t you called a medical professional? I¡¯ve already told you I¡¯ll pay for these sorts of things.¡±


    Elsa caressed her cup nervously, then began: ¡°before he became like this, as he was progressively getting worse, he kept repeating that the school doctor had given him something bad. When I pressed for him to tell me more, he said that the doctor had mentioned something about a vaccine...¡±


    Ronin wasn¡¯t exactly a fan of the authorities, but this sounded farfetched, even to him. Dangerous medical trials on children from the higher districts? No, there were plenty enough test subjects in the slums for that.


    ¡°I would have been suspicious too,¡± Elsa argued, noticing Ronin¡¯s skepticism. ¡°¡ª but Scrabby¡¯s wise beyond his years. You have to be if you are to survive where we came from.¡±


    Ronin shook his head. ¡°You could have called a private clinic. To just let him deteriorate like this¡­¡±


    He felt himself becoming lightheaded and a sense of numbness followed as he placed the cup back on the table.


    Elsa rose up and walked over, touching him on the shoulder. ¡°Thats why I called you, Ronin. I knew you¡¯d know what to do in a situation like this.¡±


    Ronin felt himself becoming weaker, it felt almost as if something was leaving him. What was this? The way Elsa had spoken¡­ her cadence. Her arguments for not calling the authorities. The way he seemed to be weakening right now. He ran back everything that had happened from the moment he''d knocked on the door¡­


    Something was wrong with all of this.


    He rose up, attempting to push Elsa¡¯s hand away from his shoulder. It wouldn¡¯t budge.


    Every other thought was cast aside, and he gave the woman a hard look.


    ¡°Who are you?!¡± He snarled, grabbing the woman''s neck, then began squeezing.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re not just a brute after all,¡± the impostor chuckled, her voice now raspy. ¡°Though I¡¯d have to say... I¡¯m quite surprised. I put enough sedatives into that drink to put down a dozen men... For you to still be standing.¡±


    Ronin felt as if his hand was weakening, and he tried pulling it away.


    No! It''s like with her hand on my shoulder. It¡¯s stuck! A terrifying realization began dawning on him as memories began locking into place, forming a picture of what was going on. The small girl he and the Hammers encountered as they breached Spectre''s compound. The strange and inexplicable actions of Elsa. His uncle and Argus¡¯s warnings¡­


    That little girl, it was Ghost Butcher ¡ª it has to be. And he¡¯s here right now, wearing Elsa''s skin!


    Ronin¡¯s mind raced as all kinds of various techniques flashed past his eyes. There had to be something suitable in his repertoire. A way out of this.


    Hadn¡¯t Sleeping Empress used a pretty effective punch at close distances like this? That could work. He didn¡¯t have willpower like her to aid him, but he¡¯d seen the basic movements of the technique, and it should be feasible.


    As Ronin felt himself weakening further, he took a deep breath, then let it out as he relaxed every single muscle he had. Imagining his body to be a fluid, he reached the highest state of relaxation he could, then, in an instant, strained every single muscle he had as he exploded into action.


    Twisting his back leg, he generated movement, accelerating it further as he twisted his hips. His core moved, his upper body moved, his shoulders moved, his arm moved, his wrist moved. Almost every single muscle in his body flowed with coordination as they all worked together for one purpose, and one purpose alone ¡ª to make his punch stronger.


    BOOM!


    As the closed fist hit its mark, Specter lost his grip, flying across the room, then crashed heavily into the wall. Ronin could see a big wound right below the man¡¯s ribcage, right where his punch had landed.


    He took a step towards Specter, but faltered, his leg giving out as he fell down on one knee.


    Not good, how much of me did he take, he thought, reminded of the dark room at the end of Specter''s lair. This man ¡ª no, this creature wasn¡¯t human. He looked at the hand which had held Specter''s neck. It was covered in microscopically small holes.


    ¡°You¡¯re a skinwalker,¡± Ronin said, looking at the wounded alien with contempt.

 Chapter 37: Dark Humanity

    ¡°Skinwalker!?¡± Specter snarled. ¡°That''s rich, coming from the filthy plague race itself.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Ronin asked, stalling for time.


    ¡°What do I mean!?¡± Specter screamed in incredulity, his voice now sounding more like a man¡¯s than that of Elsa. ¡°The galaxy was filled with life and diversity before you came along! Countless species coexisted in harmony. We, the Safeer, were highly respected ambassadors, famous for our ability to communicate. Everywhere our race travelled, we were welcomed.¡±


    Ronin felt some of his strength returning, but he needed more time.


    ¡°Wait, ¡ª¡± Ronin said back in wry amusement, ¡°you literally have to devour the species you wish to turn into. So, if I am getting this right, you ate other sentient life, then turned around claiming you were ambassadors to the very same race you were eating? Those are the acts of a predator, not an ambassador.¡±


    ¡°That is the cycle of life, but you¡­ humans.¡± Specter spat, showing clear disgust at the mention of humanity. ¡°You killed everything. You left nothing behind in your endless need for expansion. All that life. All that potential. Wiped out, gone forever, never to see the light of day again. No, there is only one species in this galaxy that deserves damnation, and it is not mine ¡ª filth!¡±


    To Ronin''s horror, Specter''s wound began healing and within that wound, he saw golden flickers of light.


    That was the alien artifact¡¯s energy.


    Ronin had not been the only one stalling for time it seemed. Specter had taken a part of what made him, him. And the strength he''d gained from the alien artifact, was also a part of that. The very same thing that had made him strong, was now about to be turned against him.


    ¡°I knew I was right about you.¡± Specter said as he began moving. ¡°There truly was something special inside of you. Now... GIVE IT TO ME!¡±


    Specter launched forward in a sprint, and Ronin rose up, narrowly moving out of the way as Specter attempted to grab him. Slamming into the other end of the room, the alien turned, then immediately rushed for him again.


    What followed was a wild melee where one party, repeatedly tried grabbing the other, whereas the other party, continually did its best to dodge. Not being able to make any prolonged contact with the alien, Ronin was forced into only using strikes, throwing in the odd kick or punch when he saw the chance.


    Whatever damage he did manage to inflict on the alien though, was swiftly healed soon after. More so than healing, Specter was becoming faster.


    ¡°It is inevitable,¡± Specter chuckled in between another failed charge. ¡°Now that I¡¯ve already had a taste, it''s only a matter of time before I manage to catch you.¡±


    Ronin spared a quick glance towards Scrabby. Fortunately, the child was still breathing, but this couldn¡¯t continue. Sooner or later, something was bound to happen. Either he¡¯d get caught, or Scrabby would end up dead.


    Ronin flashed Specter a wide smirk. ¡°I called the authorities the moment I realized what you were. Time is the one thing you do not have¡­ skinwalker.¡±


    Specter spread his arms wide and charged him, but it was different this time. There was a sense of urgency to his charge ¡ª a desperation. The dynamics of the battle changed after that. Ronin had to struggle harder and harder not to get caught, but eventually, the inevitable happened.


    One of the alien¡¯s wild charges ¡ª hit.


    BOOM!


    Miscalculating his speed, Specter hit Ronin so fast he was knocked back before Specter could grab him. But the direction Ronin moved was not into some random wall. Instead, what Ronin flew towards, was a peculiar looking flame patterned suit, standing open and ready for entry along the wall. The Heromaker.


    Ronin had been hit on purpose.


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    ¡°No!¡± Specter shouted, but it was too late.


    As the suit closed in around Ronin, he made some light movements, feeling out the suit. ¡°Yes, this should do just nicely,¡± he said slowly, the sounds of twirling gears and working servos accompanying his words. Boosters emerged along the Heromaker''s legs as he spoke through the faceguard, his voice now tinged with metal:


    ¡°My turn.¡±


    The thumps of metal striking floor rang out as Ronin stormed the Alien, grabbing him in an iron grip as they crashed into the wall, then broke through the wall, plunging into another apartment. As concrete and plastic blew out around them, Ronin stabilized himself, then continued charging, blowing through yet another wall, exiting the building itself.


    With no new room to brace them, they began falling down from the 3rd floor. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for this! You have an uncle, right? Nagata, was it?¡± Specter screamed as they closed in on the street below.


    The duo slammed into the ground and the impact from the fall separated them. Specter, now with a crushed leg, caved in chest and a partially split skull, rose up and ran. The alien''s physique clearly operated on a very different set of rules compared to humans. Those were mortal wounds ¡ª to a man that is. But a skinwalker?


    With the aid of his armor, Ronin picked himself up, readying himself for the hunt. He felt beaten and battered, strained in ways he hadn¡¯t thought possible, but the Ghost Butcher was far too dangerous to let go.


    He even threatened my family¡­ Ronin inwardly grumbled.


    As Specter picked up speed, the boosters along Ronin''s legs activated and he chased after.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    The pursuit continued throughout the district. Specter, whilst fleeing, did what a skinwalker did best, repeatedly attacking and draining anyone he came upon. By the time Ronin caught up, Specter was halfway up a building, holding a man by the neck in one arm, and climbing the wall with the other.


    Ronin activated the jetpack as every single booster along his suit began firing. He jumped, flying up to meet the climbing alien.


    ¡°What! It can fly?!¡± Specter shouted as Ronin crashed into him, knee first, knocking him off the side of the building.


    Grabbing Specter''s two arms, Ronin placed him under him as the two plunged towards the ground. He then utilized his suit¡¯s boosters, angling their fall more horizontally. As a result, this time when the two landed, Specter ended up sliding across several tens of meters of rough concrete ¡ª but it didn¡¯t end there. Ronin, whilst wearing 160 kilograms worth of heavy power armor, had ridden Specter like a board as they slid, pressing him harder into the ground. By the time they came to a stop, there was a long strip of blood behind them, and large sections of Specter''s body had been shaved off.


    ¡°#$@&%*!¡±


    Despite missing large parts of his face, Specter still acted lively as he attempted to speak. Ronin couldn¡¯t understand a word of it, but at this point, words were meaningless.


    Ronin had won.


    He stepped on the skinwalkers back, then with both hands, grasped its legs as he pulled as hard as the suit would allow.


    The alien screamed as it began tearing apart. Blood and guts began flowing out as tendons snapped and bones sundered.


    FLOMP!


    The legs and torso separated, but Specter was still alive. From the two separated body parts, Ronin could still see its microscopic tubes reaching out for him, attempting to suck out his essence.


    Placing one part of the alien upon another, he bundled the two sections together as he embraced them with both hands, squeezing with all he had.


    CRUNCH!


    All movement stilled, and the tubes fell limp. Specter, the infamous Ghost Butcher, after everything he¡¯d done, was dead.


    Ronin felt some of his vigor return as the energy he¡¯d lost to Specter earlier travelled back. Exiting dying flesh, it passed through the suit''s armor before returning to the artifact.


    Unbeknownst to Ronin however, something else followed along as well. Circling the edge of the artifact, there was now a tint of black intermixed, tainting the normally clear gold.


    ¡°...¡±


    Allowing himself a few moments of rest, he stood silently above the dead Specter. Blood slowly dripped off his power armor, adding to the growing pool beneath him. Ronin looked up at the sky. It seemed more red today somehow...


    The booming alarm characteristic to the planetary guard began entering the district, and Ronin knew he couldn''t stay long if he was to see Scrabby. Before the guard could arrive, he moved back to the Tulsi family apartment. Too exhausted to walk himself, he let his armor do most of the work. Entering the ruined and broken room, he tiredly sat down on the sofa, sinking deeply into the cushions.


    Scrabby was still breathing, fortunately. But Elsa? At least he¡¯d brought Specter outside, saving one of them.


    Ronin continued sitting there, not moving, just staring into the air.


    Today had been a rough day. He¡¯d made himself a promise back on Exodon. To protect two people. Now, one of the two he¡¯d promised to protect were gone ¡ª because of him.


    Tilting his head back towards the ceiling, he sighed:


    ¡°Shit.¡±

 Chapter 38: Aftermath

    As several ships in the shape of gray triagonal prisms entered district 13, the situation quieted down. Several people had been hysterically running around, causing all kinds of trouble. Some had taken this opportunity to break into buildings, looking for valuables to steal. Others, having lost their heads, had funneled themselves together into a stampeding crowd as they ran, trampling innocent bystanders.


    All of this, however, had stopped the moment the iconic ships of the planetary guard arrived. Of brutalist architecture, the gray ships ranged in sizes from 5 to 20 meters, and on the side of every ship was a symbol of two lasguns crossing barrels. Above the lasguns, in bold white, were the letters "P" and "G", letting everyone watching know that these ships represented the military arm of the government.


    Most of the Planetary Guard''s forces spread out throughout the district, taking control of the area. Their investigative branch, however, moved in deeper. With a different assignment, these ships headed directly for the place all of this mayhem had originally started.


    As they approached, the first thing they saw was a trail of destruction spanning hundreds of meters. There were patches of blood everywhere and numerous bodies littered the streets. The gray ships landed, and several forensic investigators began exiting, carrying survey equipment as they walked down the ramps.


    "W-what in the world?" One of them stammered as he saw the bodies.


    The victims, had skin, so closely draped to the bones below, their entire skeletal frame became visible. It looked as if these people had been starved for months. But to the investigators surprise, many of these victims were still alive. With Ronin chasing him, Specter had not been given enough time to properly drain his victims. Not completely.


    "Someone quickly call over some paramedics!" A woman shouted with an authoritative tone. Most of the dried-up bodies were only hanging on by a thread and a moment of indecision could mean the difference between life and death.


    "No need, they''re already on their way," another forensic specialist replied, looking up at several new incoming ships. These ships did not belong to the planetary guard.


    "Out of every emergency service, we have the fastest response time. Who could have called them so early?" The woman said, her brows furrowing in suspicion. One of the medical ships, was heading off in a different direction from the rest. She followed it closely with her gaze as it landed next to one of the apartment complexes nearby.


    "¡ªAnd just who might you be?"


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Leaning back into the couch, Ronin looked over his call log. Good thing I called an ambulance earlier, he thought, thinking back on his fight with Specter. He hadn''t lied when he''d told the skinwalker he''d called the authorities. He had however left out the specifics of whom he''d called.


    As medical personnel entered the apartment, they swiftly brought Scrabby away. But as soon as they left, what entered the room next was not men of medicine... At least a dozen individuals clad in black and yellow uniforms, entered the room with weapons at the ready.


    "Whoa! I''m the victim here!" Ronin said, raising his metal encased arms as they began surrounding him.


    "We''ll see about that at the station," one of the guards replied in a feminine tone.


    Ronin was then promptly directed to exit his suit, after which he was taken to the planetary guard station. Locked up in a dark room, he was then forced to undergo repeated questioning for hours. Fortunately, they eventually had to let him go. Being recognized as a genius by the government apparently had its benefits at times. Already running on fumes, after returning to the factory, he collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep the moment he reached it.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    By the time he woke up, Ronin''s surroundings were spinning and his body felt weak. Rubbing his forehead, he groggily looked over the factory.


    Simons, seemingly just having finished up with something, was walking over from the design studio.


    ¡°You alright there?¡± He asked, noticing Ronin being awake. ¡°You¡¯ve been sleeping through three entire design sessions.¡±


    Ronin checked the time. He''d been asleep for over 50 hours...


    ¡°Ugh, fought an alien yesterday,¡± he groaned.


    ¡°Good one,¡± Simons laughed, giving Ronin a couple of hearty claps on the stomach. ¡°More like you¡¯ve caused another happy pearl incident. If you don¡¯t want to talk about it, just say so, alright? No need to lie.¡±


    ¡°If that was true¡­, what are you doing so close to me?¡±


    ¡°Ow, that''s right,¡± Simons said, feigning disgust as he covered his nose. ¡°Just get back in shape quickly, alright? Been doing some rerouting on the Eluvian¡¯s power supply, and it would help a lot if you could take a look at it.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Ronin tiredly nodded back.


    Simons had thought he¡¯d been joking about the alien. Ronin didn¡¯t have the energy to convince him, nor did he have the need for that matter. His thin-necked friend would find out sooner or later anyways, well, providing the government didn¡¯t cover it up of course.


    Closing his eyes, Ronin entered his mindscape, beginning the slow and monotonous repair work of his mind palace. He was close now, very close, but what door should he open this time? He considered his options for a moment: Perhaps I should check out the Transhumanist collective again first. After all, who knows, I might have earned a coin or two.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    2 hours later, and Ronin was greedily stumbling into the VR-chamber, looking for star coins.


    [Do you wish to boost post? Yes/No?] The screen queried as he entered the transhumanist lobby.


    Boost post? Ronin wondered. So, something like this was possible?


    Maybe he should have helped Simons first, but recent events had clarified things for him. Nothing was more important than strength.


    The screen blinked, waiting for him to make a decision.


    Surprisingly, his two articles had earned him 36-star coins in one day. The comments below the two posts however¡­ Well, they were worrying.


    Almost every single person who¡¯d bought the articles had left comments. They ranged from statements such as: ¡°Embrace the demon!¡± To glowing reviews expounding on how many people you¡¯d be able to kill if you learned the techniques.


    If he chose to boost the two articles, they¡¯d be prioritized in searches and become more visible to anyone visiting the site. That meant more people would buy them. These comments though¡­ people on this site don¡¯t normally write like this. Could there be an issue with the techniques?


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t as if Ronin was in a position to be picky at this point. He desperately needed star coins to figure out what was going on with him, and if the boost post function helped with that, he¡¯d do it.


    He pressed the button for [Yes], paying 20-star coins to boost both articles.


    With the remaining coins, he bought an article on energy circulation. It claimed that the human body consisted of certain points which could absorb energy, then showed several diagrams on how that energy could potentially be circulated. There was no mention of what that energy could be though, nor were there any examples of people using it.


    A purely theoretical exercise, or is there something more to this? Ronin wondered.


    He looked through the comment section. The article seemed to be legitimate. But the commenters had the same issue. It almost seemed as if these pressure points were biological remnants from a bygone era that was no longer relevant. Why else would humans have the biology to circulate a mysterious sort of energy if no one even knew what it was.


    Was it the energy he was using? No, unlikely. He was the only one with access to it and humans would not evolutionarily develop to fit something that was not common to everyone.


    So¡­ could the world have looked different before? Did humanity once have access to something that was now lost?


    Leaving VR, he entered his mind palace, the question turning in his brain as he placed his hands along the numerous closed gates. The Potentia Panorama had not been designed for humans, but it did deal with energy. Perhaps he could find an answer here?


    Somewhere along in his search, he found something. A sectioned off packet of memory that gave off a vague feeling akin to circulation.


    He could open this gate. It wasn¡¯t that large¡­ but was it worth it?


    It could take months to repair his mind palace again¡­ But if this worked, he might actually be able to master the energy within him. Up until now, he¡¯d only concerned himself with releasing it before he lost control. But if he could master it, instead of it being a threat, it could become a boon, something which could aid him in ways he couldn¡¯t even imagine yet.


    If there¡¯s even a chance, I will have to take it, he thought, then pushed the gate.


    The familiar rush of new memories flowed through him as the outline of a technique began forming.


    Meridian forging: To master the rules of reality, a warrior needs worthy meridians. This makes it possible to craft your own. No true warrior submits to inborn mediocrity. This allows one to forge one¡¯s own fate.


    As the inflow of memories stopped, Ronin closely inspected the technique. From the looks of it, a fusion of the alien energy and his own flesh would allow him to create a new organ. A channel.


    According to the article from the Transhumanist Collective, humans might have been supposed to absorb energy through the various pressure points found along the body. Ronin did not need to absorb energy, but what if he connected his channels, or meridians as the Potentia Panorama called it to the alien artifact?


    Perhaps, instead of absorbing energy, he could release it out of his body instead. And what sort of effect would that have?


    He walked over to the design studio and began reconstructing the various diagrams from the post he¡¯d just read. He began modifying them. As he would with electronics in a ship, he altered paths, changed the power source, switched input channels for output channels, all the while making sure the meridians stayed connected to every organ.


    Before he could finish however, Simons walked over.


    ¡°What are you working on?¡±


    Ronin knew what he was here for. This was about his earlier promise to help Simons out.


    ¡°Ehem,¡± Ronin awkwardly coughed, swiping away the diagram he¡¯d been building. ¡°Been doing some power supply rerouting. Didn¡¯t you have something similar you wanted checked? How about you send it over?¡±


    Technically, he had been doing a sort of power supply rerouting, just not on a spaceship.


    ¡°Really? Thanks! I''ve been waiting for several hours now for a second pair of eyes on this.¡±


    Ronin spotted a tinge of bitterness in those words. Better help him out right away, he thought, realizing he might have gotten a little too carried away with his research.


    The two began going over the modifications to the Eluvian design. Ronin could finish his meridian circulation model later. Although strength was important, he still had obligations afterall.


    Not far from district 13, within the central meeting room of the Ironglades Space-Force Academy, sat 4 figures in deep discussion.


    ¡°So, he didn¡¯t take the contract? You¡¯re supposed to be the head of ISFA ship design, and we only have one genius in that branch. How could you screw up something so simple?¡± Minister Bladia Ungtari questioned.


    Petrov Bjerksson shifted in his seat. ¡°Some of our personality estimates were wrong.¡± Swiping his hand, a hologram appeared upon the table.


    Above the black table¡¯s surface, projections of light began showing detailed information regarding every single decision the subject of discussion had taken over the years. Accompanying every action, were psychological evaluations, temperament estimates, and probability calculations on the likelihoods of which choice the subject would make.


    The list went on, detailing anything from which type of food the subject would choose to eat, to how they would react when insulted by a colleague. The further down the list went, the more accurate it became. It was only after the recent CLM terrorist attack near the academy that the list got spotty, disappearing completely when Ronin removed his government issued implant.


    ¡°We have here a record of every single decision Ronin Maximus has made for the last 10 years. Based on this and various predictive algorithms, we predicted a 93% likelihood that he would take the contract after finding out he¡¯d been targeted by Argus.¡±


    ¡°¡ª But something must have changed after he switched it out, right? Something large enough to cause a drastic shift in personality,¡± Principal Armstrong broke in.


    ¡°I believe we, for all intents and purposes, are dealing with a completely different individual at this point.¡± Petrov echoed. ¡°However, the change didn¡¯t happen after he changed the implant¡­no, it was earlier than that. If you look at the data here¡ª¡± He scrolled down the list, showing the latest recordings.


    ¡°Ever since the CLM terrorist attack nearby, there have been gaps in what information we were able to gather. It¡¯s almost as if he intentionally hid his actions from his own implant. I doubt it''s a coincidence he just happened to switch out his implant soon after either. Though we don¡¯t know how he did it, he¡¯s got himself a Uninet now, a brand which is pretty much impossible to monitor.¡±


    ¡°You mean to say he¡¯s gotten paranoid?¡± Armstrong asked.


    ¡°It goes far beyond just becoming paranoid. We¡¯ve been in contact with the planetary guard on this and, if the sparse data we have is correct, instead of taking our contract, Ronin launched a private war against Argus. This latest report is merely the aftermath of this war.¡±


    Petrov made another swipe with his hand, and a new hologram appeared on the table. This time it showed details regarding Ronin¡¯s fight with Specter, revealing anything from preliminary crime scene investigations, to records regarding Ronin''s questioning by the planetary guard.


    Bladia Ungtari gasped.


    ¡°HAH!¡± Anatova Li laughed, slapping the table. ¡°This kid should have been in the pilot program instead. He¡¯s almost as daring as Haraken!¡±


    ¡°¡ªThis is not the time to be joking around,¡± Armstrong rumbled in annoyance. ¡°Based on this report, and if we read a little between the lines, this genius candidate is likely to defect the moment he sees the chance. And the fact that we offered the sort of contract we did earlier, only stripped away the little bit of loyalty he might have had left for us!¡±


    Petrov gave a curt nod in agreement. ¡°He bet his life on his fight with this Specter. All to avoid our contract¡­ It''s likely he¡¯d rather risk death than submit to Tar.¡±


    ¡°This is unacceptable. A genius within ship design is too rare of an opportunity to let go of. We need to bind him to Tar ¡ª firmly.¡± Minister Bladia finally spoke up, her eyes hard.


    Anatova Li grunted in response, not happy with the decision, but they all knew of the potential costs should they fumbled this.


    The discussion continued, but at this point, the overall course of it, was set.

 Chapter 39: Gimmick

    ¡°He¡¯s been like this since he was admitted,¡± the nurse said, looking down at the pale boy upon the bed.


    Both her clothes and the white room were sterile, making sure any and all possibility of infection was gone.


    ¡°Will he recover?¡± Ronin asked, steeling himself for what was to come.


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t gotten any worse. But when it comes to something like this¡­ You will have to understand, we¡¯re not equipped to deal with this sort of injury, we simply don¡¯t have the expertise.¡±


    Ronin''s hands clenched into fists. ¡±You mean a skinwalker attack?¡±


    The nurse looked up at him, then placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sure he will bounce back from this, he¡¯s still young.¡±


    A large machine surrounded the child, and numerous tubes were entering and exiting the small body. Scrabby looked more like a transhumanist experiment gone wrong than a child on the path to recovery. Be it injecting nutrients, stabilizing the heart, or filtering blood ¡ª the machine did it all. Hopefully, it would be enough.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Ronin sighed. ¡°Call me if anything changes.¡± With that, he left the hospital, heading back towards Maximus Solutions. Whatever he had to pay to make Scrabby whole again, he¡¯d do it.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As he returned to the factory, Ronin completed some academy exercises then began working on the modifications to the racing ship, the Eluvian. This was not a small job like what he''d done with the cargo ship. He''d be redesigning the whole ship this time and it would take plenty of hours before it was done.


    As he and Simons worked on the design, time passed quickly. Before long, days had passed by, and Ronin''s life became routine. When not doing academy exercises, or working on the racing ship design, he lifted weights. When not lifting weights, he constructed the meridians he''d learned about in his newest technique, beginning by creating paths from the alien artifact to the palms of his hands. Every other day or so, he visited the hospital, checking up on Scrabby.


    A week passed, then that week turned into more weeks...


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you looking at?¡± Simons asked.


    The planet was approaching winter, and this was one of those particular days when just every factor in nature seemed to add up in such a way to make the day as cold as possible. No doubt, the neighborhoods down in the valleys would be hard pressed to pay for heating today. Ronin would have been one of those people had it not been for the generous donation by the CLM.


    And as for the people actually living in the slums? Many would likely never wake up tomorrow.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you see it?¡± Ronin asked back, looking at the golden flame flickering back and forth above his palm


    Simons gave a slight smile then shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re playing another one of those jokes on me, aren¡¯t you? Give it up, I won¡¯t fall for it.¡±


    Apparently, only Ronin could see it.


    Another new observation to note down, he thought.


    Having completed two of the meridians leading from the artifact to his hands, Ronin had been testing out the energy''s various effects. For now, this little flame was the limit of what he could do. It couldn¡¯t burn anything, heck, it wasn¡¯t even visible to normal people by the looks of it.


    ¡°Whatever, let¡¯s just finish up the design,¡± he said, walking up to the interface.


    By now, most of the design¡¯s first draft was finished and what remained were only some minor adjustments before it was time to build the ship.


    They¡¯d picked a design scheme of a xenofuel-based engine. It should provide all the power needed to win races. With both the ship''s side thrusters as well its central drive needing a lot of energy, Xenofuel was pretty much the best thing available to them at the moment.


    The biggest challenge with this design had in fact been the modifications to the ship''s internal framework. It was essentially the ship¡¯s skeleton and whether the ship held together or broke apart, it all depended on how strong these frames were. By constructing them using a carbon nanotube-based alloy, Ronin and Simons had reduced the weight of the ship, making it faster. But the material, though light in weight, was not Kangdarium. With the ship now also having a more powerful engine, the weaker carbon-alloy had put the whole ship at risk of breaking apart. Ronin and Simons had had to get creative.


    They came up with 3 variables to control for:


    First, a ship''s inertial dampeners could insulate its passengers from the resulting g-forces associated with rapid acceleration, but force could not be eliminated, only transferred over to something else. In this case, that meant the ship''s internal frames. So, the more inertial dampeners they used, the more strain the ship would feel.


    Second, a heavier ship would have more momentum when moving and subsequently, experience more strain. So, the lighter they could make the Eluvian, the less strain it would feel.


    Finally, by changing the shape and form of the ship''s internal framework, they could increase the load it could handle, regardless of which material they used.


    This all accumulated into the current design having thick internal frames, reinforced by secondary frames where possible. Further, half the ship was made from carbon nanotubes and anything that could be considered redundant had been thrown out.


    To make the ship easier to modify by racers, Simons and Ronin had also retrofitted every single cable and outlet it had. The design now made it possible to plug in almost any add-on you could think of. Be it turbo boosters or obnoxiously loud subwoofers, the modified Eluvian could take it. And if someone wanted to jury-rig something illegal onto it, there was plenty of infrastructure available to make this easier as well. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    After spending a couple hours finalizing the design, they both celebrated a job well done with a well-deserved lunch break.


    ¡°Let me do the printing this time,¡± Simons said eagerly, chomping down on a nutrient bar, its gelatinous texture causing his mouth to smack as he chewed.


    ¡°Sure, why not,¡± Ronin chuckled, taking a bite out of his own bar. "By the way, this will be the first real design of our own that we build. After this, we can actually call ourselves designers."


    ¡°Yeah, but that is only if the ship works. We''ve changed so many things, we''re practically fully reliant on the simulation program now.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, true," Ronin agreed. "Good thing Haraken agreed to be a test pilot. Let''s just hope he doesn''t die in the process.¡±


    ¡°Don''t even joke about that!¡± Simons replied, pointing a finger at him.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Finishing the meal, Ronin walked over to the 3-D printer, pulling out a multiscanner as he waited for Simons to begin printing. There was something he wanted to test out today. He knew that although the alien energy didn''t seem to interact much with the real world, it could. Just based on how his own body had been strengthened by it, that fact was undeniable.


    ¡°Ronin, which components do we start with¡­?¡± Simons asked, uncertain.


    ¡°¡ªthe carbon nanotube alloy of course.¡±


    ¡°Alright, some of the components may come out wrong though.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s expected anyways, just get going.¡± Ronin replied with finality.


    Neither of them had made a material like this before, but they had to take the plunge at some point. Considering half the ship was made out of this stuff, there simply wasn¡¯t any way around this.


    As Simons began the printing process, Ronin scanned the components, then sent the data quickly over to Simons who compared the values to the blueprint. But Ronin also did something else as well. As the hot carbon mixture came out of the printer, he extended one of his palms, releasing the alien artifact energy onto it.


    This is¡­? It¡¯s actually working!? He thought in shock.


    Most of the energy just passed right through, but some stayed behind in the material as it cooled. What could this mean?


    He needed to test this. Staying quiet, he continued infusing energy into every new component Simons made, alternating the time at which he infused the energy and how much he poured in.


    As new components came out, he began experimenting further, utilizing the mental image technique from presenceless. Before releasing the energy from his palm, he envisioned an image of toughness and resilience, drawing upon the strongest memories he had of the two concepts. He used an older memory of himself going to work at his part time job with a broken leg for resilience. And for toughness, a memory of his fight with Specter. Bundling the two memories together, he focused them into a singular mental image which he then placed inside the forming carbon alloy.


    As time passed, and more components were printed, several of the ones on the conveyor belt became cold enough to touch. It was time to check if his little experiment had worked. Grabbing several of the cooler components, he quickly ran over towards the testing area.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Simons shouted.


    ¡°Getting some anomalous readings here,¡± Ronin mumbled as he began placing the various parts into the different testing chambers. He closed the transparent chambers shut, then activated a series of different programs.


    The multiscanner could pick up a lot, but far from enough when it came to something like this. Ronin had already used the scanner on himself and no, the artifact energy could not be measured. To make sure whether what he¡¯d done had had an effect, the material needed a true physical test.


    Inside some of the sealed off chambers, lasers began blasting the carbon compound. In others, drills bore through it and pliers tore it apart. Ronin, now eagerly observing the process with rapt attention, barely noticed Simons coming over.


    ¡°Why would you test the material so early¡ª wait, what¡¯s this?¡±


    Ronin gave Simons a knowing glance. ¡°Told you something was strange with these nanotubes. You sure you don¡¯t have magic fingers or something? These values are outside anything I¡¯ve ever seen on this stuff.¡±


    His thin-necked colleague looked confused. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know.¡±


    The components he¡¯d simply infused energy into had barely changed at all. Some of them had a 2% increase or decrease in performance, but that was within normal variance when making alloys.


    But the ones he''d used the mental image technique on? These were different. The readings showed a drastic improvement in the material''s mechanical properties. From tensile strength to elasticity, they were all much higher than they should be. Some even showed tensile strengths of over 20% above the theoretical maximum.


    This could no longer be explained by a normal variance in the printing process, not anymore.


    This is it! He thought.


    He¡¯d been worrying about making it as a spaceship designer before, but those worries evaporated the moment he saw these values. He could make stronger materials than anybody else, which meant, his ships would be able to do things which no one else could. He could also make more for less, and he would always have an edge over the competition. This was his gimmick; this was what would draw in customers!


    But more importantly than anything else, he could use the potentia panorama to something other than fighting now. He¡¯d found nothing in it about creating something new, only knowledge on how to gain the strength needed for destruction. This was a different path, not one that resided in the so-called fields of strife. The presence had spoken of a path of conflict, but this was something else.


    A path of creation.


    The words resonated out like an iron gong inside his mind. This was what he wanted to do. This was how he would use what he''d been given.


    ¡°Ronin, please tell me the measuring equipment is working properly.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It is.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what this means?¡±


    Ronin looked back at Simons. ¡°I do.¡±


    Simons wet his lips hesitantly: ¡°If we can make the internal frames this strong, the things we can add¡­¡±


    Ronin couldn¡¯t stop himself from grinning. ¡°We can pretty much do whatever we want.¡±


    His rotund friend couldn¡¯t hold it in anymore. ¡°THIS WILL BE THE COOLEST RACING SHIP EVER! WE CAN EVEN SELL IT IN THE PROFESSIONAL CIRCUIT!¡±


    Ronin laughed out loud. ¡°IT¡¯S HAPPENING SIMONS! AND WITH HARAKEN HELPING US¡ª¡±


    ¡°LET¡¯S BUILD IT NOW!¡± Simons shouted, interrupting him, his whole face turning red from excitement.


    They ran back to the printer¡ª well, Simons did something more akin to a quick walk, but they made it back to their stations in mere seconds before beginning to print out more components again.


    There was greatness in the air today, and now, all they had to do was to help bring it out.

 Chapter 40: The Omni-Bolt

    As Simons printed out more internal frames, Ronin continued infusing the artifact energy. With every new component that came out, there was now a new sort of energy within, strengthening the material in unseen ways. Though initially, Simons struggled getting the nanotube alloy to come out right, fortunately, to Ronin''s relief, after a few failures, he got the technique down and the printing process picked up speed. As frame after frame was printed, Ronin began feeling the strain.


    Ronin not only had to channel the potent energy through his body, but he also had to constantly maintain a mental image of resilience and toughness. For every new component, he then had to place this image into the cooling carbon. Fortunately, this was easier to do when compared to using presenceless for stealth, but, that in no way meant it was easy.


    Every 5 minutes or so, Ronin needed a break, and Simons, though frustrated at first, swiftly caught on to the fact that there was something suspicious going on.


    ¡°Didn''t you say something about having magic fingers? Are you sure you were not talking about yourself?¡± Simons asked, his eyes narrowing. Nobody got that tired from using a multiscanner.


    ¡°Eherm, j-just stop the conveyor belt for a moment. I promise you won''t regret it.¡± Ronin replied, breathing heavily.


    ¡°You know... you could just tell me.¡±


    Ronin didn''t respond. Something like this was simply too impactful to risk coming out. Who knew what the government might do if they found out? Images of Scrabby laying down on the hospital bed flashed past Ronin''s mind. All of those tubes going in and out of that tiny body.


    No, he thought. For me, it will be even worse, probably. They''d dissect me, piece by piece to figure out what makes me tick.


    ¡°...¡±


    After a short rest, the on again, off again printing continued, and the last few frames were infused. By the time the last internal frame came out, almost two hours had gone by.


    At this point though, Ronin felt like he''d been pushed to the limit. With the number of mental images he''d been making, there was no way he''d be thinking clearly for the rest of the day. Several times already, he''d caught himself losing focus, zoning out as he just stared up at the ceiling, having forgotten what he was doing. Not to mention his arms, which felt like they¡¯d been dunked in acid with all the energy he¡¯d been pouring through them.


    If he was going to infuse more components in the future, he either needed to become stronger first, or use less powerful memories. With the way things were now, he wouldn''t be doing any more infusions today. Anyways, the stronger frames of the ship should play a huge impact on its performance. The internal frames were the bedrock of any ship and determined how far you could push them. What he''d done should be more than enough.


    Before Simons could begin printing the outer hull, Ronin had them switch positions. And as he arrived before the printer''s control panel, a big grin began forming across his face. He might be tired, but he''d be damned if he was going to miss out on something as exciting as this!


    ¡°...¡±


    The two continued on, switching positions every two hours or so. And with the Eluvian being of a much smaller size than their earlier ship, the Heidenreich, it was also much faster to make. As more and more graphite and raw metal was converted into spaceship parts, it became clear they''d be able to finish this ship before the day''s end. Before long, the only components missing were the Eluvian¡¯s engine and thrusters.


    ¡°Let me take over,¡± Simons said.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Ronin looked sideways at the guy, his eyes bloodshot from fatigue.


    ¡°Just hand over the controls already. You¡¯re barely standing up at this point.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯re so close¡ª,¡± Ronin began.


    Simons made an amused expression. ¡°We¡¯re still planning on assembling it later today, right? We¡¯re just about half-way done at this point. You really think you¡¯re up for that in your condition?¡±


    Simons was right, of course. He needed to recharge. Still, Ronin was no fool. There was a reason Simons had waited for this particular moment to come over.


    Ever since Ronin printed the Westein-series based fusion drive, then bragged about getting a faster time to Simons, the guy had become obstinate. Whenever the topic came up, Simons began loudly declaring how he should be the one to make the engines from now on.


    ¡°Alright, you can take over, but I won¡¯t be doing any scanning for a while,¡± Ronin said.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± Simons replied, his face dawning a serious demeanor as he gave a firm nod. ¡°I knew you¡¯d do the right thing Ronin. I was right to put my faith in you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just an engine. Aren¡¯t you making this out to be a little bit more than it is?¡± Ronin chuckled back.


    ¡°You, of all people, should know the importance of this! 2 hours Ronin, 2 hours! If it¡¯s the last thing I do, I''ll beat that time!¡±


    Ronin shook his head in bemusement, then began waddling his way over towards the bed. The journey had him swaying back and forth like a drunkard, but he made it over without incident. Laying down to rest, he began thinking...


    There would be tweaks to several components as they built this ship now. With the stronger internal frames, they could increase the engine output. A faster ship would also need adjustments to its inertial dampeners. Ronin¡¯s mind kept spinning as he thought about all of the new exciting changes. He didn''t know how fast this new ship would be, but one thing was certain. It would be fast, very fast.


    Whilst Ronin was resting, in a different part of Ironglades, Principal Armstrong and Minister Bladia Ungtari stood before a wooden door.


    This door was the only thing currently separating them from Mayor Brunsteins office, and for what they wanted to do, they would need his cooperation.


    A finely dressed man silently walked up to them. ¡°He''s ready for you now,¡± the man said, his voice quiet.


    The two walked in slowly, though Bladia a little more slowly than Armstrong. She was getting on in her years, and simply walking had become challenging. Nevertheless, they both needed this. It was for the future of Tar after all. It was for their legacy as patriots.


    As they reached the desk, they could see the mayor busily tapping the air, likely finishing up some work on the holoscreen.


    Armstrong cleared his throat. ¡°Eherm, Mayor?¡±


    Quickly finishing up, the mayor''s eyes regained focus. ¡°So, what seems to be the issue?¡± He asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s about the genius candidate, there¡¯s some issues with his... loyalty,¡± Minister Bladia said.


    Brunstein scratched his chin and leaned back in the chair. ¡°The one we pulled out from Exodon?¡±


    ¡°Yes, him,¡± Bladia nodded. ¡°He¡¯s shown clear distrust towards authority and when we offered him a helping hand, he practically spat on it.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­ and you¡¯ve come to me because?¡±


    ¡°¡ªHe needs to be reined in, mayor,¡± Armstrong grunted. ¡°The problem is that, from what we¡¯ve been able to ascertain, only something¡­ very drastic at this point will do the job.¡±


    Brunstein leaned forward, his eyes widening. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­ You¡¯re thinking about bringing that old process back? We¡¯d need the Prime minister''s go-ahead for something like this.¡±


    Both Armstrong and Bladia showed a resolute expression. ¡°It is exactly what you¡¯re thinking of, Mayor,¡± Bladia said. ¡°We need a tribunal.¡±


    Back at the factory, after Ronin had had some rest, it was Simons''s turn getting tired. They''d been at it for 14 hours now, but with a project like this? There''s no way they''d quit. This ship, was getting made ¡ª today.


    As they assembled the modified Eluvian, the hull, frames, wiring, insulation and so on was easily slotted together. After all, the ship had been designed that way to begin with. Every component was modular and made to be as intuitive as possible. With regards to the sorts of customers they¡¯d designed this ship for, an easy assembly was pretty much a given.


    Boosting both the inertial dampeners and the engine however, now that took a little more work. The enormous power of xenofuel drives made them rather volatile, so Ronin and Simons had to make sure nothing could go wrong. For every change they made, they double, and triple checked everything.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Ronin, currently down on his back, halfway under the engine, reached out his hand.


    ¡°Hand me the DX-9 micro-spanner,¡± He mumbled.


    Before he¡¯d even finished the sentence, Simons tiredly grabbed a spanner off to the side and handed it over. Over time the two had developed an almost instinctual flow to how they worked together when assembling. A couple of times, Ronin had even been given tools without asking, only to realize later, he''d actually needed that tool at that exact moment.


    Bringing the micro-spanner in under the engine, he guided it into a narrow gap, skillfully avoiding the nearby electrical wiring. When he reached a loose bolt, he pressed a button, and the head of the spanner began rotating as the millimeter small bolt fastened.


    ¡°That should be the last of it,¡± he said as he carefully pulled the spanner back out.


    ¡°This is the engine we¡¯re talking about. Are you sure we¡¯ve got them all?¡± Simons asked.


    Ronin thought about it for a moment. ¡°Can¡¯t think of anything we¡¯ve missed¡­ How about you?¡±


    Simons shook his head. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Well, if none of us can think of anything, there¡¯s really not much we can do. Come, let¡¯s finish it,¡± Ronin said, then slid out from under the engine.


    These last-minute adjustments to the design, had been based on physical stress test results and had not been simulated. Simons was right to be worried, Ronin was too.


    They exited the mostly finished ship, and Ronin headed over towards the assembler. It was time to paint the ship!


    Ronin operated the control panel, and several spray guns emerged along the factory''s floor and ceiling. They''d picked dark midnight blue as the color for the ships base, and the spray guns began quickly moving around, painting the ship''s every nook and cranny with inhuman speed.


    The paint dried almost immediately, allowing Ronin to quickly move on to the next part. Picking a neo-fluorescent bright blue color, he painted on two thick lightning bolts, one along each side of the ship. Above one of the bolts, in large white letters, he wrote: [Maximus Solutions.] And above the other, he wrote the ship''s new name: [Omni-Bolt.]


    Calling it the Eluvian-A07 didn¡¯t quite fit anymore. With the number of changes they¡¯d made to the ship, it deserved a new name.


    Whilst Ronin had been applying paint, Simons, on the other hand, had been working the printer. By the time Ronin was done, Simons came over with an engraved plate in golden brass.


    It was time to finish it.


    They brought the plate into the racing ship, then drilled it in below the pilot''s chair. Ronin read the engraving, and his face stretched into a wide smile. After almost a month of work¡ªIt was done.


    [1St. Edition, Omni-Bolt. Manufacturer: Maximus Solutions, Ronin Maximus & Bartholomew Simons]


    ¡°Should we call over Haraken now?¡± Simons asked.


    ¡°I already have. He should be here any second now,¡± Ronin replied.


    Along the runway outside the factory, a stylish racing ship descended. Characterized by sharp angles, two fins at the back, and an intermix of green and black colors, it made quite the presence as it landed.


    Inside the ship, there were three men, one visibly younger than the others.


    ¡°We¡¯ve arrived, sir,¡± one of the older men said.


    The door of the racing ship opened and the fresh air common to the higher districts wafted in. Stepping outside, the younger, red-haired man was met by a large facility spanning hundreds of meters. Immediately struck by the large number of guards patrolling the building, he paused for a moment. Every single one of these guards were carrying weapons, and it didn''t end with lasguns. Plasma rifles, rocket launchers, and weapons he didn''t recognize, was being openly paraded around like it was nothing.


    One of his men stepped to the side. ¡°I believe it to be this way, sir,¡± he said, pointing the way with an open palm.


    They walked down the runway, eventually reaching the first checkpoint. Some of the factory''s security personnel came over and began questioning them. It didn''t take long however, because as soon as they realized who the red-haired youth was, their group was swiftly let through.


    ¡°Mr. Maximus is expecting you,¡± one of the factory''s security guards said, before taking the lead and guiding them the rest of the way.


    Haraken saw turrets, more fences, barricades and more. It looked as if this place had been fortified for war. With the attention the academy gave him, he knew quite a lot about how a home could be fortified, and how a security detail operated. But here¡­ he¡¯d at least spotted 20 men just walking up to this place. This was far beyond what he was used to.


    As he entered the factory he was met by the scent of oil, metal and cleaning supplies, but there was something else in the air as well. To Haraken, it was one of the best scents in the world.


    The smell of a new ship!


    He looked around. Where did the smell come from? Could this be his new ship? He saw numerous conveyor belts, raisable platforms, assembler arms and bots, but¡­


    ¡°Ah, there it is,¡± he said, his nose and eyes locking onto the target.


    Just beside one of the raisable platforms, was a ship so dark blue, it looked black. On its side, he saw a thick lightning bolt, bright blue in color.


    The ship looked roughly four meters in length and around two to three meters in both height and width. It was a small thing, but its massive thrusters spoke of power. Narrow at the bow, as racing ships should be, it widened out further back. It was characterized by smooth and rounded forms, likely there to make the ship more aerodynamic. As for thrusters, Haraken not only spotted a large one at the back, but numerous ones along the sides of the ship as well.


    ¡°Come, Mr. Maximus is right this way,¡± the man leading them said, pointing towards a figure besides the ship.


    Haraken remembered that figure, it was pretty hard not to. The two black scars running down the figure''s face and those two golden pupils were unmistakable. He¡¯d been quite surprised when the man began negotiating in place of Simons a month back, but he hadn¡¯t thought much of it at the time.


    Now though, with the way things were going¡­ had this Mr. Maximus been the one in charge all along?


    Casually leaning against a workbench, the man wore a sort of nonchalant expression. Between his lips, there was a thin metal cylinder hanging out, likely some kind of tool that mechanics liked to use.


    His body posture was one of laziness ¡ª or tiredness maybe?


    One of Haraken''s own guards leaned in. ¡°Sir, I would like to advise caution. Every move that man makes, maintains his center of gravity. From what I can tell, he''s continuously keeping his body in an optimal position for attack.¡±


    Earlier, when Haraken participated in that underground race, he hadn''t brought his bodyguards with him, so he hadn''t noticed. Still, as he looked over at one of his guards and saw the man begin perspiring, he couldn''t help but get a little worried.


    ¡°It can''t be that bad, can it? You''re sweating,¡± he asked the guard.


    ¡°Sir, that scarred youth possesses a sort of casual ferocity I''ve never seen before. Be it my own colleagues, or the men I''ve seen in the planetary guard, they''ve all been men of violence... but this? This is something different.¡±


    Haraken noticed the guard''s fingers. They kept twitching near his waist ¡ª where his gun was. It was almost as if something had spooked the guy.


    ¡°Welcome!¡± Ronin said, flashing a big grin as he spread his arms.


    ¡°Happy to be here,¡± Haraken replied shakily. ¡°So¡­ is this the ship?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Ronin nodded back, then took the metal cylinder out of his mouth. ¡°As for your request¡­ You wanted it to be untraceable, right? Well, it¡¯s illegal for us to sell, or gift a ship without registering it first and all ships need transponders.¡± The scarred youth paused for a moment, then smirked. ¡°But¡­ regulations state nothing about registering a ship that was never complete to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Not bad, so you''ve left out some small irrelevant component before handing it over,¡± Haraken said. He was beginning to like where this was going. ¡°But that still leaves the transponder... Did you come up with something with regards to that?¡± He asked.


    Ronin made a tilt with his head towards the ship. ¡°I think it would be better if you come see for yourself.¡±


    After much protest from his own security, Haraken followed and the two entered the ship. If Ronin had actually wanted to attack, he could have done so the moment Haraken landed on the runway. The way Haraken saw it, there was no sense in attacking now.


    As the two stepped into the airlock, Haraken spotted a lasgun mounted onto the ceiling. Noticing his gaze, Ronin began explaining. ¡°We here at Maximus Solutions always care about customer comfort. That includes the comfort of not having to worry about having your ship stolen. This weapon makes sure of that.¡±


    Haraken hummed in agreement. Mounting a laser to the ceiling was a bit on the nose, but it should deter most thieves.


    As he fully entered the ship''s interior, he was met by one of the most modular looking designs he¡¯d ever seen.


    Most critical components could be taken out and replaced, and there were clear markings along the floor and walls on how to do it.


    ¡°Here it is,¡± Ronin said, pointing towards an arm-thick cylindrical object sticking halfway out of the wall. Around it, in clear white letters, it read: [Remove transponder by turning left]. There was also an arrow there, pointing out the direction in which to turn.


    ¡°This makes it so easy to remove this thing, it''s almost as if you want the buyer to do it,¡± Haraken commented.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you see? That¡¯s the point! It should be up to the customer whether they wish to be tracked or not, not us here at the factory. Afterall, it¡¯s the buyer''s property.¡±


    Haraken chuckled. If this wasn¡¯t illegal, it was so close to illegal, it would be ¡ª if these ships ever got popular. Maximus Solutions must have been balancing a legal tight rope in order to craft this thing.


    ¡°Here.¡± Ronin handed him the tiny object he¡¯d previously had in his mouth. ¡°It¡¯s the final piece needed to complete the ship. It has no real purpose, but according to regulations, I have to hand this to you before gifting you the ship.¡±


    As Haraken accepted the small cylinder, Ronin asked: ¡°So, ready to take her for a spin, test pilot?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    20 minutes later, Ronin and Simons were standing beside the factory runway, watching as the Omni-Bolt steadily rose up in the air. After transferring over the security controls to Haraken, they''d immediately moved the ship outside. They really wanted to see the Omni-bolt in the air today, and Haraken had seemed thrilled at the opportunity.


    ¡°It''s time for the moment of truth,¡± Simons said as he saw the ship climb higher and higher.


    Finally, the ship reached the point at which it could begin moving forward.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Ronin echoed as he saw the ship powering up.


    Suddenly, the ship disappeared.


    BOOM!


    ¡°What in the world!? Did it explode?¡± Simons shouted over the noise.


    ¡°No,¡± Ronin said. ¡°The Omni-Bolt just accelerated so fast, it broke the sound barrier before you had the chance to react.¡±


    Simons looked shakily over at his employer. ¡°Ronin¡­ did we just create a monster?¡±


    Ronin glanced back, his face expressionless. ¡°If we did, It''s one fine monster indeed.¡±

 Chapter 41: Product Launch

    After a rather extreme test flight of the Omni-Bolt, Haraken left in good spirits. He did tell them about a couple of problems before he left though. One of them was the inertial dampeners. They were too weak, and the g-forces could get brutal when fully accelerating. There was also the noise the ship made. It was loud to begin with, but with the sonic boom it made as it broke the sound barrier... Well, let''s just say you wouldn''t want it passing by at a funeral.


    Haraken didn''t seem to care that much though, seeing as he''d brought the ship with him when he left. Besides, the two issues with the ship could be fixed later. This day, they''d done enough. Both Ronin and Simons were tired, and the moment Haraken left, Simons headed home. Ronin, on the other hand, hit the bed, opting for a good night''s sleep. Void knows he sure needed it.


    As he woke up the next day however, Ronin still felt as if his arms were burning. Apparently, meridians didn''t heal that quick. His arms were better than yesterday but... he wouldn''t mind speeding the healing process up a little. Luckily, he had just the right thing for this sort of problem.


    ¡°Guess it can''t be helped,¡± he said as he rose up. ¡°It''s about time I got in a good session anyways.¡±


    It was time for the tried and trusted Kalvrakian Embrace. If there was one thing that could heal him quick, it was this. Every time he broke through, he healed. So, why should meridians be any different?


    After a couple of stretches, Ronin felt ready, and got to it, quickly progressing through the stances.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Huuuuh...¡± Letting out a deep breath, Ronin moved his legs, then spread out his arms.


    The 10th stance was where the struggle began. He held the position, letting the artifact energy settle into his body. With his eyes closed, he attuned more deeply with the technique, feeling out the minute changes happening to him.


    Gathering himself, he then switched positions, locking in the 11th stance. The energy was more potent now, heavier, and he felt a tingling sensation as it moved. Flowing deeper into his organs, the energy entered anything from bone marrow to blood vessels.


    At least that¡¯s how he envisioned it. The meditative mindset that followed the technique, required a form of inner visualization, and these images was what Ronin felt helped best.


    What he did not visualize, however, was the illusory plant life rising up around him. That came from someplace else. Probably, it was an aspect of the technique itself. Afterall, most of the flora surrounding him consisted of plants he¡¯d never seen before, be it online or in real life. He saw anything from thick thorny stems, cupped by massive flowers, to green glowing moss. With every new stance he made, he was met by something different.


    He moved on to the 12th stance and the older flora around him, turned more real. With his eyes still closed, he saw a tree grow before him. It grew fast, reaching adulthood in mere seconds, and long vines began descending from its canopy.


    After some thought, Ronin had come to the conclusion that this technique, in a sense, was about life. The name: Kalvrakian embrace, meant something, and though he did not know what the term Kalvrakian was about, the other half of the name was clear.


    He was embracing life itself.


    His spread arms, the positions of his legs, the angle at which his head was tilted... it was an open welcome to all aspects of life, and as he embraced it, it in turn, changed him.


    He transitioned into the 13th stance, feeling himself begin shaking. The energy was becoming increasingly more violent now.


    This was his limit, but with all the practice he''d put in over the weeks, not to mention his fight with Specter, he should be able to reach it.


    The 14th stance.


    Ronin did his best to visualize the energy as he drew upon his insights on life, pushing his body into the new position, one centimeter at a time.


    With agonizingly slow progress, he squeezed out the last centimeter, locking the 14th stance into place.


    Good, he thought, satisfied. He was already beginning to feel better... though maybe that was just the placebo effect kicking in.


    Either way, this technique was incredible, and on that note, there was a little something he had to check out.


    Ending his practice for now, Ronin headed for the VR-chamber.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Reaching the small basin, he undressed, then jumped in. And as the familiar nanite rich fluid submerged him, he entered the transhumanist lobby.


    [Current balance: 982 star coins]


    Almost a thousand coins? He thought. Are my articles that popular?


    Surprised, Ronin looked down below at his reviews and what he saw, shocked him.


    Half the reviews now, were just a random mishmash of letters, not making any sense whatsoever. The other half, the coherent half, had turned even more unhinged, consisting only of words such as slaughter, death and kill. Last time he¡¯d checked them, although unnerving, at least the reviews had made sense. Now though?


    I really can¡¯t drag this out any longer, he thought. He swiftly cancelled the articles, removing them from the site. He had no clue what had happened, but something seemed to have gone seriously wrong with the people buying his techniques.


    Could it be due to them lacking an artifact? If anything, that should just make it impossible to practice the techniques, not change the people practicing them. He shook his head, shelving the question for later. Right now, he had a huge sum of star coins to spend.


    Browsing the site, he found articles on all sorts of things but found little relating to his own condition. After about an hour of looking around, all he''d found was an article speculating on the power of dreams. Considering his recent, rather horrifying experience in that area, he swiftly bought the article. He also bought a couple of texts on the basics of willpower and retrocognition, spending 50-star coins in total.


    The article on dreams didn¡¯t say much. It claimed that dreams and reality were connected somehow but it lacked the evidence to prove it.


    The texts on willpower, on the other hand, were clear. In order to awaken the ability, one needed more than just the right genes. Only under extreme circumstances which pushed one to the absolute limit, then beyond, was there a chance. A small chance at that. At the end of the day, this was not an ability which could be learned, only happened upon.


    Just as bizarre a talent as willpower, Retrocognition was awakened in individuals possessing extreme amounts of empathy. It required an absolute obsession for detail and a deep love for an object. Only then was it possible for a person to feel the object''s past. The method was by no means foolproof either, involving a lot of guesswork. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    For example, when testing if someone had the talent, the person was first made to guess an object''s past. Say, take a lasgun for instance. Where had it been? Was its previous location the factory it was made in, maybe? Had the object been buried underground before? Or perhaps, it had been in the shopping center down the street?


    If it was found that the person was statistically more accurate with his guesses than the average man, he had the talent. Safe to say, due to how this ability was measured, this was a field rife with people pretending to have the gift, when in fact, they did not. Even the articles warned of how many fakes and liars there were out there.


    Nevertheless, this was all useful information to Ronin. Perhaps he could use this to his benefit in the future somehow? He spent some time memorizing everything he¡¯d bought, then left the transhumanist lobby.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    As he exited the VR-chamber, Ronin pinged his implant, calling Nagata.


    His company had just made its first commercial ship after all. If he was going to sell the Omni-Bolt, he first needed to make sure the company website was up and running.


    [Ronin? Ah, it¡¯s good that you¡¯ve called, I''m just about to finish up,] his uncle began. The older man was dressed in nothing but a long bohemian robe and some underwear. Seemed he¡¯d been in the middle of something.


    Ronin arched an eyebrow in amusement. [I¡¯m not interrupting, am I?]


    [I should be the one asking you that! What are you doing? You¡¯re literally stark naked!] Nagata replied.


    Ronin, having just exited the VR-chamber, was currently drying himself off above the grates. Naturally, he still hadn¡¯t put anything on.


    [Touch¨¦, so how¡¯s the company website?] He quickly asked, changing the subject.


    [It¡¯s up and running, but there¡¯s still a lot of work to do if you want it looking properly. You really should hire some people. I¡¯m an old man and you¡¯re working me to the bone here. Worst of all, I¡¯m not even getting paid for this!]


    Having only begun setting up a website halfway into the design of the Omni-Bolt, Ronin had been a little late. Any respectable company would''ve already had a site ready for customers to order from, but Ronin wasn¡¯t exactly experienced when it came to things like this. Fortunately, he just happened to have an uncle who was an expert in anything relating to the online world.


    [Yeah, sorry about that. I will hire some people later,] Ronin said.


    Nagata nodded but kept quiet, the silence stretching as the older man became more serious.


    [To think it¡¯s finally over,] Nagata eventually said.


    [You mean the conflict with Specter?] It was not the first time his uncle had brought this up.


    [Yeah¡­ I really thought¡­ Well, never mind. It¡¯s over now.]


    [I almost died,] Ronin said after a slight pause. [To think that one man, or rather alien, would be more dangerous than the entire organization backing him.] Shaking his head, Ronin continued. [Many things have happened since my contact with that artifact, but if there¡¯s one thing I regret, it''s taking that breathing mask from Klepp Tulsi. To think one of the people I decided to protect to make up for that, is now dead... and it''s because of me¡­]


    Nagata¡¯s expression became conflicted. [Remember to hold onto that feeling,] he said. [Never forget it. It¡¯s what makes us who we are. Use what you¡¯re feeling right now to make sure nothing like that ever happens again.]


    Although Nagata was acting a little strange, Ronin gave a nod in agreement. What he¡¯d said made sense.


    [¡ªAnd put on some clothes next time you call! People will think you¡¯re some sort of pervert if you call people looking like that! You¡ª] Ronin ended the call before Nagata could finish. Some things were better left unsaid, or in this case, unheard.


    ¡°...¡±


    Putting on some clothes, Ronin noticed he had some unread messages from Haraken. Opening them up, he immediately bolted up as he began reading.


    ¡°What!?¡±


    Haraken had not only taken the liberty to sign up for a race with the Omni-Bolt today, but he''d also told the organizers of that race, that Maximus Solutions would begin selling this ship after this race was over.


    Ronin went into panic mode. This was too soon. They needed a promotional video. Heck, their ship wasn''t even ready yet.


    ¡°Damn you Haraken,¡± he grumbled through gritted teeth.


    He immediately called Simons. There were only a few hours left before the race was set to start, meaning, there was no time to cancel. They had to work fast. Haraken would showcase the Omni-Bolt regardless of what they did, so they sort of had to show up. At least the daredevil had convinced the organizers to give his company some time to speak after the race, but things were not looking good...


    ¡°...¡±


    A few hours later, and the two designers arrived at the venue. Hastily exiting the shuttle that brought them here, the two regarded the area. The race was located along a dark street far down in district 87 and there were thousands of people packing the street.


    Nimitri, one of the factory¡¯s security guards, had followed along as well. And as Simons quickly snuck off to one of the stalls selling kiboris, Nimitri disappeared into the crowd of people to socialize.


    Spotting Haraken, Ronin immediately headed in that direction. He had a few words to say.


    ¡°Speed Demon!¡± he shouted over the music.


    ¡°Mr. Maximus! Took you long enough! Get over here!¡± Haraken laughed back, seemingly having no idea of what he''d just done.


    As the crowd surrounding Haraken parted, the two clasped hands.


    ¡°You bastard, why did you sign up like that without telling us?¡± Ronin asked angrily as he drew in close.


    ¡°Whoa, hold on here! Isn''t this a good thing? I was helping you guys,¡± Haraken replied, backing away.


    Ronin shook his head. ¡°Well, it''s already done anyways. Just don''t do anything like this again in the future, okay?¡± Not that he was planning to give Haraken the chance to, to begin with. From now on, every unfinished ship would have to stay at the factory. ¡°By the way, ¡ª¡± Ronin began. ¡°How''s the Omni-Bolt been treating you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s quite the beast you¡¯ve made and, not that I mind but, what was going on in your head when you made this thing? I nearly passed out yesterday.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we need a test pilot,¡± Ronin said, then gave the red-haired pilot a knowing look. ¡°Let me guess¡­ you pressed the accelerator too hard? But you did know that there was a problem with the inertial dampeners... So, you know, that''s kind of on you.¡±


    Haraken made a weak shrug. ¡°Yeah¡­I know.¡±


    Ronin wasn''t finished though: ¡°¡ªAlso, that''s why we were supposed to wait with the product launch! Don''t willy nilly just sign up to things!¡±


    Before they had the chance to talk more, large holoscreens began descending along the skyscrapers. Next, the announcer for the race began talking, and Ronin noticed Haraken becoming antsy. The red-head kept glancing over at the Omni-Bolt, so, Ronin figured that was his cue to leave.


    ¡°I guess our time¡¯s up, good luck out there! I will be watching from the sidelines,¡± Ronin finished, then made for one of the stalls selling kiboris.


    Meeting up with Simons, the bulging man tried hiding the insect-covered stick he''d been eating¡­ He failed. In fact, he was so bad at hiding the stick, and his act was so obvious, anyone bothering to look would''ve noticed.


    ¡°Shut it,¡± Simons said, noticing Ronin''s gaze.


    Ronin held up his hands defensively. ¡°Wasn¡¯t going to say anything. It''s good food.¡±


    As the two designers talked, the announcer started hyping up the crowd, building more excitement with each new contestant he called. The rising anticipation turned the atmosphere electric, and by the time the last contestant was called out, people had begun shouting.


    It was time.


    [Are you ready!?] The announcer shouted over the speakers. Several hands went up in the air and the crowd roared back.


    [3. 2. 1. Go!]


    ¡°...¡±


    Drive plumes scorched the street as ships took off. One ship, however, was not quite like the others.


    BOOM!


    A loud sonic boom sounded out as the ship broke the sound barrier. Several people amongst the crowd ducked down, fearing they were under attack.


    Ronin facepalmed. ¡°Seems we¡¯ve frightened them,¡± he said.


    Simons simply continued to eat his stick of kibori, his face now grim as he looked upon the holoscreens.


    As the ships sped through the track, the Omni-Bolt quickly took the lead, only pulling further and further ahead the more time passed. What however made this race different, and not in a good way at that, was the oncoming traffic. At this speed, the noise the ship made, and the wind pressure it generated, caused windows to break, and shuttles to swerve and crash.


    Whilst the earlier races had been somewhat dangerous, for the most part, few civilians got hurt. That was not the case with the Omni-Bolt. The obnoxiously loud sound that now followed Haraken''s ship, had people fleeing and screaming in terror as more and more accidents kept piling up in its wake.


    Ronin, who''d previously only been embarrassed, began turning pale. He looked over at his hairless colleague, his voice now shaky:


    ¡°Simons¡­ we might need to modify our sales pitch a little.¡±

 Chapter 42: Tribunal I

    As the race finished up, amidst the cheering crowd, there was a notable amount of people booing. Unfortunately, there was simply no way around this. Haraken had caused too much of a commotion this time. He might have won, but in exchange, he''d terrorized half the district.


    Hoping to salvage the situation, Ronin headed for the speaker podium. Earlier, he''d separated the Omni-Bolt into two models: the ones with infused frames, and the ones without. After Haraken¡¯s display though...? He was going to need a third option, a silent one.


    Climbing up on the overhang where the announcer stood, Ronin linked up his implant to the audio system, then took over the role as speaker:


    [Ahem, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Speed Demon!]


    The speakers amplified his voice across the venue and the rowdy crowd stilled. Some people even began clapping.


    Good, he thought. At least they don''t seem too negative about the race.


    He continued: [As many of you might have noticed, Speed Demon was driving a bit of a different ship today.]


    ¡°A bloody loud one, yes!¡± A heckler from the audience shouted.


    [A loud one indeed.] Ronin agreed. [But also, a bloody fast one. You guys all saw the speed of that thing. What do you think a ship like that would normally cost? 200 000 credits? Maybe you¡¯re lucky and get a used ship with those specifications for 150 000, but what do you think the Omni-Bolt Extreme costs?]


    He paused, allowing for the anticipation to build¡­ Then¡­ he erupted!


    [NO! WE AT MAXIMUS SOLUTIONS BELIEVE THAT THE CUSTOMER COMES FIRST! 90 000 credits and you can drive the same ship as Speed Demon. And if you don¡¯t want to make yourself known, say, if you''re faint of heart, a little bit cowardly maybe. Just say you want the quiet version when you place an order on our site. Our company will happily send you that version for the same price as the brave edition.]


    Now that got some reactions. Ronin could hear some people whistling whereas others widened their eyes in surprise. They¡¯d taken the bait, now it was time to reel them in. With a shark-like grin, he spread his arms wide, then gestured towards the crowd:


    [If you¡¯re short on credits, however, we have the standard edition Omni-Bolt available for half the price. That¡¯s 45 000 credits for one of the fastest ships around. It can¡¯t reach the speeds that the premium editions can, but it¡¯s not far away¡­] Next, Ronin lowered his voice, sounding like a man revealing a deep secret. [We¡¯d also like to add that every ship is specifically built to be easily modified. You could add whatever you want onto it, and with that, I mean whatever... It''s so easy to do, even a baby could do it.]


    A promotional video of Haraken''s premium edition Omni-Bolt began playing across some of the massive holoscreens. The video went through anything from acceleration graphs, to turn velocity data, fully showcasing the ship''s strengths.


    Ronin stayed upon the overhang, and after the video finished, he took questions from the audience. Some asked about ship modifications, others, about the performance of the standard edition. Most however, wanted to know about the silent version of the Omni-Bolt. The one that didn¡¯t exist.


    Having come up with the idea during the race, Ronin struggled a bit to come up with satisfying answers... Hopefully, nobody caught on to what he was doing.


    After his time was up, the questioning ended, and he descended from the podium.


    ¡°So¡­a silent edition?¡± Simons asked, having walked over a few minutes earlier.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± Ronin grunted back. ¡°Something had to be done.¡±


    Simons furrowed his brows. ¡°Well, I guess things will get pretty busy in the next few days. To make the Omni-Bolt silent, we''re going to have to make a lot of changes... Though, that being said, it might be better to just stop selling the noisy version all together.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Ronin agreed.


    Just then, they both heard a ping. A message? Ronin wondered, accessing his implant.


    As he opened up the message, he saw that it had come from the company website.


    Could it be?


    As he began reading, he saw what it was. An order for the standard model of the Omni-Bolt. Ronin had just sold his first ship ¡ª just like that. Subtracting the 10000 credits the raw materials would cost, that left 35 000 credits in net profit for less than a day¡¯s work!


    Ronin and Simons just stared at each other. With how ill-prepared they¡¯d been for this product launch, neither expected someone to order a ship that early. Seemingly, the low price and the ship''s modular design had paid off more than expected.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    PING!


    There was another order. The standard model again. PING! Another. It didn¡¯t stop. More and more orders began coming in.


    Ronin¡¯s face stretched itself into a foolish smile, and as he looked over at Simons, he saw the same smile on him. How many at their age had done something like this before? It couldn''t have been many! With this, he was not only one step closer to becoming a successful designer. He was also one step closer to leaving Ironglades.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think working overtime is going to be enough anymore,¡± said Simons, so excited he was shaking at this point.


    ¡°Mhm,¡± Ronin replied, his entire body rocking back and forth as he nodded. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to hire a lot more people now¡­ You know, we might even need more factories!¡±


    Some distance away from the racing venue, a small body jostled. The small movement triggered a signal to be sent from the machine monitoring the boy. Shortly after, a nurse came running into the room. She immediately began inspecting the medical equipment. All its readings showed the same thing. The child was waking up!


    As she was about to inform the man who¡¯d paid for this treatment, however, she was interrupted.


    A holoscreen appeared before her, informing her that the usage of her implant had been forcibly restricted. This shouldn¡¯t be possible. Implants were extremely personal and were not only supposed to be un-hackable... they were supposed to be entirely under the control of their owners. For them to be influenced like this...


    Suddenly, right at the center of her vision, a new message appeared:


    [Do not move. Someone will arrive shortly to explain the situation.]


    Along with the message, there was a symbol of two lasguns crossing barrels. She recognized that symbol... ¡°T-the planetary guard?¡± She stammered.


    Whilst Ronin and Simons were celebrating their launch of the Omni-Bolt, Ronin suddenly received another message. To his surprise, it wasn¡¯t a new order this time. As he brought the message up with his implant, his heart jumped.


    The hospital?


    As he started reading, the exhilaration he was already feeling from the product launch, rose even higher.


    ¡°Scrabby¡¯s awake,¡± he muttered aloud. He couldn¡¯t believe it. Just when he thought the day couldn¡¯t get any better¡ª


    ¡°What was that? Scrabby?¡± Simons broke in, leaning over.


    ¡°I need to go,¡± Ronin said, turning around to leave. There was no way he¡¯d let the kid spend his first day awake alone. Not after what had happened.


    As Ronin began walking however, a hand firmly gripped his shoulder. ¡°Not without me!¡± Said Simons. ¡°This is a great day, and we¡¯re celebrating, be it here or¡ª Ow, hang on!¡±


    Simons began sliding across the ground as Ronin walked, not affected by the man¡¯s grip at all. Having to release his hold before his arm gave out, Simons started walking briskly to keep pace.


    ¡°This is a personal matter,¡± Ronin said with implication.


    ¡°Scrabby¡¯s that child we met at the Happy Pearl restaurant, right? I know.¡±


    Ronin thought about it for a moment, before eventually giving in: ¡°Alright, if you want to follow, you can ¡ª but keep what you see to yourself.¡±


    The two walked up to a parked shuttle, entered it, then headed for the hospital.


    ¡°...¡±


    As the two arrived before the hospital, something seemed off to Ronin. He''d been here before and this place was usually packed with people. Now though? There was barely anyone around, and the people he did see... looked frightened. As they entered the building, things turned even weirder. The closer the two got to Scrabby, the less people they saw. And those they did see, quickly scurried away the moment they saw them.


    A short 5 minutes of walking later, they reached the final corridor. There was not a single soul left now. Everyone was gone. It was almost as if this entire section of the hospital had been abandoned.


    ¡°Is this really normal?¡± Asked Simons, his voice echoing across the hall.


    Ronin slowly shook his head, his eyes turning vigilant. ¡°No¡­It is most definitely not.¡±


    They walked up to the door leading to Scrabby''s room, and Ronin, now cautious, opened the door carefully. First, he spotted Scrabby. The kid was awake, and there were bandages all over his body. Ronin breathed out a sigh of relief. It seemed the nurse had done a good job taking care of the boy.


    Next, he saw a man standing upright besides Scrabby. Dressed in a decorated black and yellow uniform, the man held a stiff posture as he talked silently with the child. The man had a thick gray beard, sharp eyebrows and a powerful physique. And as he turned towards them, the man showed a morose expression.


    ¡°So, you¡¯ve actually decided to come, Ronin,¡± he growled. ¡°I would have thought the father and mother would have been enough for you, but it seems you want the child as well.¡±


    Ronin had a feeling he¡¯d missed something. That black and yellow uniform was what the planetary guard wore. Why would someone like that come for a slum-rat like Scrabby? The answer was, he wouldn''t. He was here for Ronin.


    ¡°Who are you, really?¡± Ronin demanded.


    ¡°I am the one who''s been cleaning up your mess. Tens of thousands of people have died because of the ruddles you released upon this city. Someone like you shouldn¡¯t have the right to know, but in consideration of the one you¡¯ve brought along¡ª¡± The man gave a respectful nod towards Simons. ¡°It¡¯s an honor to be graced by one of the 10 great families.¡±


    ¡°Just answer the question,¡± Simons said.


    The older man sighed. ¡°I¡¯m Sima Hui of the planetary guard¡­ and I¡¯m here to inform you, Ronin Maximus, you¡¯ve been summoned for a tribunal.¡±


    Ronin¡¯s implant notified him of an incoming message. And as he pulled it up, and began reading, the gravity of his situation became clear: Citizen of Tar, Ronin Maximus, you have hereby been summoned for a tribunal to answer for your crimes against the people of Concordia. On the document, there were signatures from the planetary guard Marshal, the Mayor, the Minister of Education, heck, even the Prime Minister had signed it.


    Just then, Scrabby spoke up with tears in his eyes: ¡°Ronin¡­ Is it true? Did you really kill my father?¡±

 Chapter 43: Tribunal II

    Caught off guard, Ronin tried explaining himself: ¡°I¡­Yes, but I didn¡¯t have a choice, they made us¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough from you,¡± Sima Hui interrupted. ¡°You killed Klepp Tulsi in cold blood. Are you really going to try justifying yourself to his son? You killed his father Ronin! Don¡¯t make things worse than they already are.¡±


    The planetary guardsman snorted as he began mumbling off curse words to himself. Only after visibly reigning himself in, did he continue: ¡°The tribunal will begin shortly... It would be in your best interest to behave... Now, follow me.¡±


    Striding off past Ronin as if expecting him to follow without question, the older military man exited the room with Scrabby in tow. Ronin could tell; this was a man so used to other people''s obedience; it had become part of who he was.


    Still, it wasn''t as if Ronin could refuse.


    He reluctantly followed the man out, and to his surprise, Simons came along as well. The guy was not only an excellent employee, but he was also fun to have around, not to mention loyal. A true friend. But... that being said... Simons wasn¡¯t exactly the type of person to hang around someone accused of murder. As he walked out the door, Ronin looked up at the ceiling, sighing. Hopefully, after all of this was done, he and Simons could still call each other friends.


    As they walked along the corridors, Ronin tried explaining himself to Scrabby again, but every time he did, Sima Hui stepped in, interrupting him. As for what reason the military man would do something like this? Ronin had no idea, but he doubted it was anything good. For one, Sima Hui had told Scrabby about Exodon, but, what else had he told the kid? More importantly, what had he left out?


    Every time Scrabby looked at Ronin now, it was with hatred in his eyes. He could understand Scrabby hating him, but for that hatred to be based on lies? No, that was unacceptable. Hopefully, he would have the chance to explain himself to the boy later.


    ¡°...¡±


    As Ronin, Scrabby and Simons stepped outside the hospital, they were led towards a gray triagonal ship, stationed a few hundred meters away.


    A rather large craft, Ronin noted as he stood before it. It had to be at least 10 meters tall, and though it was but 2-3 meters wide at the bottom, at the top, it was 5 times that, spanning maybe a dozen meters or so. He''d seen this type of craft before, after his fight with Specter. This ship was larger, but if anything, that only made it more...


    Impractical, he spat.


    The ship''s triagonal shape, would''ve had it break under its own weight, had it not been for its support. Only the hydraulically powered landing gear made actual contact with the ground. It was probably the only way the ship could land. A ramp began lowering down, and he saw Sima Hui stepping out before it.


    ¡°Alright, get in,¡± the older man said.


    Hurriedly, they moved up the ramp and into an airlock as the ship''s crew prepared it for launch. Finally, after the airlock closed, the ship rose up from the ground then began moving forward.


    Ronin looked outside the window. Skyscraper after skyscraper passed by underneath, transitioning into a blur of gray neon as the ship picked up speed. Apparently, they were not stopping at Ironglades. At a certain point, the gray skyscrapers below, were replaced by reddish-brown soil, and buildings more common to the outskirts of cities. There were waste-processing plants, fuel-refineries... then, after they disappeared, he saw abandoned dig-sites.


    The further out they went, the less and less signs of human activity there were, and by the time the ship slowed down, they''d left Ironglades so far behind, there was almost nothing left around.


    No humans, no animals, no signs of life. The only thing visible at this point was a huge iron dome, blotting out the landscape like a misplaced bearing ball. Whatever this thing was, it did not fit.


    Tens of kilometers across, the massive dome was surrounded by dilapidated streets and foundations of what had once been buildings¡­ It seemed everything but the dome had been weathered down to memory as nature took hold.


    The ship descended and a section of the dome began opening up. All the way from the ship, Ronin could hear the heavy sounds of metal grinding against metal. The massive plates moved as large amounts of white gas was ejected, and with a loud rumble, the gate opened.


    This place looks like a giant airlock, Ronin realized as the ship moved into the dome wall.


    He looked to Simons for answers, and after getting his attention, he gestured towards the metallic wall outside. Perhaps Simons knew what this was¡­


    The plump man, noticing Ronin, began rubbing his chin. He seemed to think it over for a second, then, he made up his mind and began speaking:


    ¡°My father once told me about our past. How in the early days of settling these planets, our culture had been different. The capital cities had looked beautiful back then, he¡¯d said¡­ We had little to no crime, artists flourished, everyone had a purpose¡­ but over time¡­ all of this changed. The areas of economic prosperity moved, the planet''s atmosphere became polluted, and better trade hubs were found. Eventually, all of those cities died.¡±


    ¡°And what does that have to do with this dome?¡± Ronin asked.


    ¡°I was getting to that,¡± replied Simons. ¡°You see the higher ups weren¡¯t exactly thrilled with our history being wiped out, so, before the cities fell completely, it was decided that parts of these older cities should be preserved.¡± Simons gestured to the window. ¡°I think this might be one of those preserved parts.¡±


    The outside wall closed back up, and a series of vents activated as the air outside was filtered. There was more movement, and another section of the wall opened up ¡ª this one, leading into the dome¡¯s interior.


    ¡°...¡±


    As they flew into the big iron ball, what met them, might as well have been a different world. Through the window, Ronin saw green plants and trees everywhere. Further ahead, he saw high-arched ornate buildings, ranging in colors from brown to white, silver and gold. The sky was a clear blue too. Not that it was real, of course. Most likely, this sky was a projection of sorts, created by tech installed along the dome¡¯s interior wall. Still, even though it was artificial...Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    It is beautiful... Ronin thought. I never imagined we even had a place like this on Concordia. But... if we had something like this around before, how did we end up with gray skyscrapers? What changed?


    The ship touched down.


    ¡°This way,¡± Sima Hui grunted.


    With his back strait, the man marched out of the airlock, then began leading them into the city.


    Walking them down one of the larger streets, Sima Hui guided them to a tall white building. It had a giant archway, so large it looked as if it had been made for giants. They passed through, entering a large hallway as the floor changed from gray concrete into gigantic blocks of polished stone.


    Looking around, Ronin first saw a multitude of white pillars, lining up along each side of the hall. And the inner walls, were packed with paintings. All of them showing different landscapes, none of which he recognized. Interspaced between the paintings, he saw densely traced arching windows, illuminating the hall in colors as the fake sun shone through.


    This whole place had an old feel to it, and every single part of it seemed to possess meaning and significance. It felt a little like the inside of Raverus Ravent''s ship. Only more.


    Continuing down the wide hallway, they encountered more and more people. Every single one of them, walked up to Sima Hui and saluted the man, standing stock still as they stood at attention.


    A well-respected man, Ronin remarked.


    Based on the clothes these people wore, many belonged to the planetary guard, though not all.


    More and more people began lining up as they walked, forming two long lines behind them.


    Simons looked to Ronin. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to regret coming along with you,¡± he said, giving a quick glance to the growing procession forming behind them.


    ¡°No Shit.¡± replied Ronin. ¡°This is starting to feel like an execution, not a trial.¡±


    Everywhere he looked, people stared at him with hard eyes. Had it only been Sima Hui, that would have been one thing, but everyone here seemed to look at him like an enemy.


    An enemy of the people, Ronin¡¯s mind echoed. Someone you can easily justify doing anything to and not feel bad about it afterwards.


    At a certain point, the hall widened out into a huge circular room, marked by three more halls leading into it. In between the halls, were seats. There were hundreds of them, placed progressively higher up the further back they went. At the center of the room, clear for all to see, was a podium, and before it, a raised tribune, several meters in height.


    This has to be the heart of this place, Ronin thought.


    One of the men lined up beside them, broke his salute, then marched up to Sima Hui. ¡°Everything¡¯s ready for the tribunal, sir. What are your orders?¡±


    ¡°Proceed as planned,¡± the older man replied, then turned towards Ronin. ¡°Get up on that podium, criminal, it''s time to answer for your crimes.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Whilst Ronin moved up and onto the stand, a number of the people around, approached the surrounding seats. Simons walked off to the side, whereas Scrabby was led someplace out of sight by Sima Hui.


    Next, an older balding figure emerged from the crowd, walking past Ronin as he approached the tribune. The man ascended the raised platform, then sat down, giving Ronin a contemptful glare as he did.


    I see, Ronin realized. So, this is my judge.


    ¡°Let us begin!¡± The balding man said in a raspy voice, then slammed down the gavel. Every single person around, sat down on their respective seats, and the room became so silent, you could hear a pin drop.


    ¡°You have been charged with the crimes of colluding with aliens, deliberately releasing beasts of terror onto the populus, and multiple counts of murder! How do you plead?¡± The judge asked, looking down upon Ronin.


    ¡°I¡¯m innocent, I didn¡¯t do any of that!¡± Ronin shouted, realization beginning to dawn on him. Does the government want me back on Exodon?


    It made sense. He hadn¡¯t exactly been quiet since he came back from that planet. Still, for it to happen so suddenly.


    ¡°Let¡¯s call out the first witness, Group Captain Sima Hui,¡± the judge said. The grizzled man stepped out, and the judge continued:


    ¡°What first arose your interest in this... Ronin Maximus?¡±


    Puffing out his chest, Sima Hui cleared his throat, then began speaking: ¡°Our first reports on the acts of this monster was about 4 months ago, a little over half a year ago according to the galactic calendar. After several outbreaks of ruddle swarms all across Ironglades, we did an investigation of our internal database. Low and behold, before being shipped off to Exodon, this man admitted to releasing those beasts. But it didn¡¯t end there, he bragged about doing it, smiling as he talked about how many people would die.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t true at all! Ronin remembered that interrogation perfectly, and there had been no talk about ruddles. No bragging. No smiling. No nothing.


    ¡°He deliberately let those ruddles loose upon the city? How much misery and terror do you estimate he caused?¡± the judge asked.


    Sima Hui¡¯s beard quivered as he struggled containing himself. ¡°We estimate that upwards of 60 000 people have died as a direct result of his actions. As for indirect? I''m not sure, but... it''s many times higher than that.¡±


    Several in the room gasped, and the previously orderly atmosphere broke as numerous people began speaking in hushed voices.


    ¡°¡ªQuiet!¡± The judge said, slamming down the gavel. And as the room quieted down, he looked to Ronin. ¡°What do you have to say for yourself!?¡±


    Trying his best to remain calm, Ronin began: ¡°My apartment was blown to bits, damnation, the entire building blew up. I barely survived! I was hunted by numerous men, and only by sheer luck did I find a way out in the sewers. How was I supposed to know that the place I escaped to would be infested with those vermin? I didn¡¯t even know that place existed before I broke down the door! It''s your fault for not informing the public. Had I known that place was so dangerous, I never would have entered. Don''t put this all on me!¡±


    The judge slammed down the gavel again, silencing him. ¡°You lie!¡± He roared. ¡°Before this trial, the planetary guard sent us plenty of evidence relating to this. There were no men, that explosion came from your apartment and besides¡­¡± Ronin could swear he saw the man smirk for a moment. ¡°You¡¯ve already admitted to releasing those ruddles on purpose ¡ª haven¡¯t you? What¡¯s the point in lying now?¡±


    A video began playing before the audience, showing Ronin, with a big fat grin on his face, gloating over how much death he¡¯d cause now that those ruddles were free.


    They¡¯d really done it ¡ª hadn''t they. They¡¯d brought in a fake video in order to frame him.


    At that moment, a switch flipped in Ronin¡¯s mind. This wasn¡¯t a trial. This wasn¡¯t an attempt to judge him. This wasn¡¯t about the truth. His own government had turned on him, and there was nothing they wouldn¡¯t do in order to bring him down.


    A part of him which he thought he¡¯d long suppressed, began rumbling under the surface. Do it! They¡¯ve played their games long enough, a voice in his mind said. After all, if they were going to be this ruthless. If they were going to destroy him like this¡­ Why shouldn¡¯t he? Why shouldn¡¯t he just end them all? He could be ruthless too.


    No! He forcibly suppressed himself, burying the voice deep down where it belonged. He was a spaceship designer, not some violent brute, that was the alien artifact talking. He would face this with patience and a solution-oriented mindset, whatever might come. That was who he was.


    ¡°I know my own memory,¡± Ronin said, after the video finished. ¡°That video is fake. I never said those things.¡±


    The judge, once again, slammed down the gavel and began calling him a liar.


    Ronin sighed. This was going to be a long day.

 Chapter 44: Light in the dark (B1: end)

    Be it claims of him murdering anything from people he¡¯d never seen before; to people he¡¯d fought in prison, Ronin had to listen to it all. He tried defending himself, but every time he did, the judge brought up some false evidence to prove him wrong.


    This tribunal, from the very beginning, had been nothing but a sick perversion of justice. But Ronin could take it, he could keep himself in check, all the way until the last witness was called¡­


    The balding judge coughed, before saying in a raspy voice: ¡°As our next witness, we call Scrabby Tulsi. Please step forward.¡±


    The sickly-sweet smile on the judge''s face, told Ronin, they knew. They¡¯d called up Scrabby deliberately in order to target him.


    The small boy walked up before the tribune and the judge leaned forward, his voice dripping with sickening sweetness:


    ¡°Go on, child. Tell us how you met this man. What did he do?¡±


    Scrabby shuffled uncomfortably, but as he looked upon Ronin, his expression firmed.


    ¡°I met him after he came from Exodon. He killed many men when he came.¡±


    Scrabby¡¯s eyes shifted about as he talked. He did not sound believable at all. The way the boy looked back and forth between Sima Hui and the judge, made it obvious he was looking for approval.


    So that''s why Sima Hui kept whispering into his ear, Ronin inwardly cursed.


    Scrabby had been fed half truths about him, then, after his hate towards him had been sufficiently stoked, he¡¯d been coached on how to lie when called as a witness.


    ¡°Good,¡± the judge said. ¡°And what about the¡­ incident at your new apartment?¡±


    Scrabby furrowed his brows, as if thinking of what to say. ¡°Ronin entered our apartment with the alien, then asked it to eat mom. He then tried to hurt me.¡±


    The judge leaned back in feigned shock. ¡°He colluded with an alien!?¡±


    Ronin grit his teeth as he tried holding himself back. This was getting ridiculous!


    ¡°Scrabby, they¡¯re lying to you!¡± He shouted. ¡°They¡¯re only using you to get to me! Don¡¯t listen to them!¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡± The balding judge slammed down the gavel. ¡°That is enough from you. If you do not calm down, we will be forced to restrain you. This will be your last and final warning.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Scrabby had to answer more questions, but, fortunately, it didn''t last long. There was a limit to the number of words a small child could be made to memorize. So, when he began going off script, stuttering as he began talking about things that were too crazy even for this court, he was guided out by someone nearby.


    The judge looked to the audience:


    ¡°Is there anything anyone would like to add before we conclude?¡± he asked.


    The room remained silent. Not a single person stood up.


    Ronin let out a breath in relief. At last, the tribunal was about to end.


    ¡°Very well, then...¡±


    ¡°¡ªWait!¡± A voice shouted from the crowd.


    ¡°Bartholomew Simons?¡± The judge seemed taken aback. ¡°That¡¯s quite the surprise. You do realize that what you say here will reflect back on your family, right?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± replied Simons. ¡°But I do have some words to share before you condemn this man.¡±


    Ronin¡¯s mind began spinning. Why had Simons, of all people come out? Was he about to tell them what happened at the Happy Pearl restaurant? Was that why he¡¯d come along, to expose him as the Defiler, the bioterrorist? Every man had a limit and Ronin felt he was getting close to his. Void help him if he did.


    Simons walked out in front of the crowd, then began speaking:


    ¡°I¡¯ve known Ronin Maximus for a few months now and have been working with him closely. I have seen much of how he behaves and who he is as a person. Now let me tell you, and I want to make this perfectly clear. I have never seen Ronin act in any way like you¡¯ve been describing him here today. He may be many things, but he¡¯s not a heartless killer, he¡¯s not an alien sympathizer, and he is not a terrorist. Make of that what you will.¡±


    The judge shook his head. ¡°Strong words, but the evidence is clear. Let us take a short break as we settle upon a verdict.¡±


    Ronin felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. Simons, like a ray of light in the dark, had stepped out to defend him. When the whole world called him an enemy, one man stepped out and stood by his side. It may not be much, but to Ronin ¡ª it was enough.


    A few minutes passed by as the room buzzed with quiet discussion. Finally, it seemed a verdict had been made and the older judge walked up the tribune.


    ¡°After much discussion, we have settled upon two possible outcomes,¡± he said. ¡°By any normal account, you should have gotten the death penalty, but many have argued that you can still be of use. That, due to your particular... situation, instead of spreading misery, you can use your gifts for good. We will therefore make a rare exception and offer you two choices. Ronin, you can either sign this contract or face execution, the choice is yours.¡±


    Ronin was notified of an incoming message on his optical implant. He opened it.


    Ahh, now I understand. All the puzzle pieces clicked into place as he looked upon the document before him.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    This was a slave contract.


    He¡¯d received one of these before¡­ When Raverus Ravent offered to help him with his bounty problem, the condition had also been a contract like this.


    Unlike the last contract, however, this one was even more restrictive, but that was only the beginning of it. Whereas Professor Ravent¡¯s contract required him to sign away his rights for 10 years, this one¡­ lasted for a lifetime.


    He would be a slave for as long as he lived.


    This all probably happened because I refused to sign the first contract, Ronin reasoned.


    But it was too late to go back now. He had to sign it. Still, now that he knew what this tribunal was really about, he should be able to change a few things.


    ¡°I will only sign this thing under two conditions,¡± Ronin said.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid you''re in no position to negotiate,¡± replied the judge, lazily.


    ¡°You have only begun to see how useful I will be to the state. To be frank, up until now, I have only shown you a fraction of what I am really capable of. If you grant me my two small conditions, I will do everything in my power to help Tar.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± The judge sighed. ¡°Speak.¡±


    ¡°My conditions are simple. First, I will not replace my implant with a government issued one like you¡¯ve stated in the contract. Also, I wish to continue working at my current job. If these conditions cannot be met, execute me right now, because these terms are non-negotiable.¡±


    The judge gave him a sardonic smile. ¡°Do you really mean that? Very well. Guards, prepare to fire!¡±


    Several in the room stepped out, then pointed their lasguns at him.


    Ronin inwardly grit his teeth. Here goes nothing.


    Pretending to be calm, he spread his arms, then closed his eyes. His act had to be perfect. They needed to believe he was willing to die. He only hoped he¡¯d read the situation correctly. If he hadn¡¯t¡­


    ¡°Sigh, hold your fire.¡±


    Ronin almost collapsed from relief as he heard the judge speak. It had worked!


    After pondering for a moment, the judge continued:


    ¡°I¡¯m sure we can arrange for some minor changes... For a criminal such as yourself though, such freedoms would need certain¡­ safeguards. To make sure the people are safe, we will therefore make this tribunal public. Everyone will now know what kind of a person you are Ronin. They will all know what you''ve done. The people deserve the truth after all... With you loose on the streets, at least now they can keep themselves away.¡±


    He¡¯d bet his life on it, and it had paid off. At least he had some privacy now, as well as a factory. He still didn¡¯t know how to use these things to get out of this situation, but at least there was a chance now.


    After a few minutes of adjustments, the contract was changed, and Ronin signed down his name. As he typed the final letter, however, he noticed a drop of blood on his hand. He brought his hand to his nose, noticing even more blood on it. A nosebleed? That was strange, he hadn''t had issues like this ever since he absorbed the alien artifact...


    ¡°...¡±


    Wiping his nose, Ronin walked over to Simons as the tribunal wound down. He couldn¡¯t not thank him after what he¡¯d done.


    Bowing his head, Ronin spoke with a heavy voice: ¡°Thank you. Your words may not have affected the trial, but they meant the world to me.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± Simons said, then winked his eyebrows. ¡°But I expect first priority on every engine made from now on.¡±


    Ronin chuckled but soon became serious again. ¡°That decision, to make the tribunal public. It was probably decided before this thing even began. Are you sure you still want to stay with the company?¡±


    ¡°They slipped up the moment they insinuated you blew up your apartment, Ronin, and to have Scrabby testify on top of that? No, I know you¡¯re innocent, that is enough for me.¡± Simons replied.


    There was a lull in the conversation as Ronin could see Simons struggle with something. He kept quiet. Whatever internal struggle his friend was having, it was not for him to influence.


    ¡°You know...¡± Simons finally said. ¡°People always keep telling me how it''s an honor to meet me, they bow, show me reverence, but it''s all hollow. Me and my father, we''re exiles. We''ve been cast out from the family, stripped of all our influence and wealth. Its why we live down here and not up there.¡± He pointed towards the sky. ¡°We are still treated as if we''re nobility, but that feels more like a curse now, it''s like a constant reminder of our banishment... My time at Maximus Solutions, however, has made me feel like what I do matter again.¡±


    Ronin sighed, then looked upon the circular courtroom. ¡°Again, thank you, but you should hold off on that decision. A lot of things are about to change right now. This tribunal will make me a social pariah, it will take away the key needed to take part in society¡­If my guess is correct, they did this to make me so hated by the public, I''d do anything for redemption¡­The fact that the government so openly took away my social key based on false pretenses, only means they could just as easily give it back.¡±


    Ronin tsked, continuing:


    ¡°Destitute, isolated, hated... who wouldn''t cling to hope if there was a chance to get their old life back? That hope could''ve made me the perfect slave, and they''d use the people to do it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why you demanded keeping your current job!¡± Simons erupted.


    ¡°Yeah, in part. If I keep working at Maximus Solutions, it doesn¡¯t matter how much I¡¯m hated. If we announce we''re looking for workers, people will come. There''s probably some who will reject us, but for every rejection, there''s at least ten people out there willing to jump at the opportunity for a job ¡ª I know I would''ve.¡± Ronin gave a slight smile. ¡°No, the dream isn¡¯t over, not yet. Just don¡¯t tell anyone about this, alright?¡±


    Simons nodded back.


    He had not only backed Ronin up at the tribunal, but he¡¯d also kept a dangerous secret. Simons deserved the truth.


    It was faint, but Ronin felt hope fill him. There was sure to be a path out of this, and if there wasn¡¯t, he¡¯d build one with his own two hands.


    Just then, Simons¡¯s expression changed.


    ¡°Ronin,¡± he said. ¡°You''re the real owner of Maximus Solutions, aren''t you? It was you who added that clause into the contract, right?¡±


    Ronin coughed in surprise. ¡°C-Clause?¡±


    Simons pointed towards his neck as he began reciting:


    ¡°The employee is required to possess or develop a strong ability to communicate. I GOT LIPOSUCTION BECAUSE OF THAT CLAUSE YOU BASTARD!¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Status table:


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9696%; background-color: rgba(2, 7, 40, 1); border-style: double" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Name</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Ronin Maximus</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Paradigm</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Potentia Panorama</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Gates</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Great gates (0/9), Major gates (0/2187), Minor gates (4/17487)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Body strengthening</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Kalvrakian Embrace vol.1: (14/108), Meridian Forging: (2 / N/A)</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Mind strengthening</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Battle soul</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 13.8069%">Combat techniques</td>


    <td style="width: 86.1716%">Near-Death-Sight (4.1x / unknown), enhanced instincts, Snapshot, Presenceless</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    End of Arc 1/Book1