Chapter 397: Bonds (1)

Ricardo was still quick on the uptake.

After clearing his throat lightly, he said,

“Broken~?”

“Yes.”

Both Yehyeon’s and Ricardo’s were unusable now.

The form-changing weapon cost far more than I’d expected. Well over a hundred million. If I’d destroyed one back during the Colosseum incident, I would’ve been buried under a truly terrifying amount of debt.

And now, weapons that expensive had been rendered useless by the Creature infiltration at headquarters.

They said it was possible to make new ones. You just had to buy them from outside.

The problem was the budget....

With two-thirds of headquarters wrecked, there simply wasn’t any money to spend on such pricey weapons.

There were countless urgent purchases to be made—ammunition, turrets, trench-use Core devices.

And beyond that, there were mountains of other expenses. Even though remote work had been recommended due to the danger, I’d heard that every single employee in the Planning and Coordination Team was coming in anyway, tearing their hair out at their desks.

So in Yehyeon’s case, he said he’d just buy a new one out of pocket.

Because he had absurd amounts of money....

“I’ll just buy one too~.”

As I stared uneasily at the pale hand without its ring, and the IV line stuck into the back of it, Ricardo said it as if it were nothing.

My eyes went wide.

“You’re going to buy another one?”

“I bought the last one with my own money too....”

Good lord.

So Ricardo was rich too.

It was true that certain Black Badger positions came with high salaries, but that weapon was really expensive.

And he’d paid for the previous one himself.

I blinked.

“Is that weapon your favorite?”

“Well.... Probably~?”

“When did you learn to use it? I’ve always thought it was fascinating every time I saw it.”

It hadn’t existed before the First War.

So every time I saw Yehyeon and Ricardo using one, I found it intriguing. I’m the type who doesn’t really care about how things work—just like I don’t bother questioning the principles behind magic.

But even for someone like me, it was a fascinating weapon.

Ricardo shrugged, then spoke in a hoarse voice.

“They say it originally started as an assistive device for quadriplegic patients.... You know it uses brainwaves to change form, right~?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard.”

“I learned right before the Second War broke out.... cough. The operation is really cumbersome, and it has quite a few drawbacks, so there aren’t many actual users....”

“But its portability is excellent.”

I love my sword dearly, but even if I had two mouths, I couldn’t honestly call it convenient to carry around.

It was heavy, and its presence was overwhelming—hard to bring along to official settings.

By contrast, a form-changing weapon looked more like an accessory than a weapon.

Which made me wonder why Yun—who chased efficiency to the extreme—didn’t use one.

Was it not that he didn’t use it, but that he couldn’t?

“No. That sunbae probably knows how to use it~. I’ve seen him change a shared form-changing weapon once or twice.... But like I said, it’s annoying, so more people choose not to use it~. To use it in a specific form, you have to be able to express the blueprint inside your head as brainwaves....”

“What? I thought if you just imagined a spear in your head, it would turn into a spear.”

Ricardo shot me a look that clearly said, Do I really have to answer this idiotic question?

I smiled faintly.

I should stop pestering him and just focus on nursing.

Even if I asked in detail, I wouldn’t understand the principles anyway.

Standing up, I handed water to the man coughing weakly with a pale face.

Then I checked on Jonathan, who was dozing off.

Since no one knew when another Creature outbreak might occur, the number of medical staff stationed in the isolation ward had been reduced.

That was why I’d joined in to help with nursing. It wasn’t like I could do anything impressive, but still.

Hoping to help, even a little, with the recovery of people I cared about, I took away Ricardo’s empty cup.

And I began urging my senior to rest.

Just like he so often did to me.

***

The temporarily constructed isolation ward.

Built in a rush by a large number of general staff, it was larger than the previous one. And more sturdily defended.

The shortage of supplies was severe, so it couldn’t be called an ironclad defense by any means.

But still, the trench-use Cores were ready to activate at any moment, and ventilation, heating, and cooling were all functioning well.

In other words, it was fairly comfortable.

“Hey.”

After ten at night, silence usually settled in, and all the patients lowered their voices.

Since some people tended to worsen in the early morning hours, night-shift medical staff were always present.

Still, lights-out was at nine thirty. And I’d move around quietly, then return to my tent around eleven.

So today as well, just as I was about to head back to my tent, a senior called out to me.

“Taleb.”

“Yes?”

A senior whose face I recognized, but nothing more.

I’d been helping him clean up snack crumbs as he dragged his heavy body around, and was just about to leave. Ricardo had passed the critical point, and Yun was gradually recovering too, so I finally had some leeway to visit other people’s tents.

That’s why I’d gone around checking in on a few others....

I turned back toward the voice and looked at the unfamiliar senior.

“What do you need?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Head lowered, he mumbled as if the words wouldn’t come out easily.

Was he about to ask for something difficult?

Maybe he was having trouble getting to the bathroom. Even I found requests like that a bit hard to make.

Rather than rush him, I figured it was better to wait, so I stood there quietly.

After I waited patiently, the senior spoke in a voice that nearly crawled along the ground.

“I’m sorry.”

I stared at him.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I... I was there too.”

He muttered, eyes fixed on his own hands.

“You remember when you got really angry and stormed out.”

“Ah.”

He was talking about the time I beat Jaeyeon.

The memory surfaced immediately. Even after everything that had happened, my anger toward Jaeyeon and Colton hadn’t faded, so recalling that moment made the rage smoldering in my chest flare up again.

I didn’t show it, though.

Anyway.

He must’ve been one of the Badgers who’d participated in the leadership’s Q&A.

I had no idea.

“It’s fine.”

I said that because it genuinely was.

“If someone like me showed up, I’d be suspicious too. And it’s not like you threw a punch at me or anything.”

“At the time, I asked about the legitimacy of your recruitment. That was the official line, but honestly, I didn’t like you and just grabbed a justification to go with it.”

“Is that so?”

I laughed quietly, amused by his unnecessary honesty.

“But I don’t remember any of the questions from back then. So it really is fine. You’re not in great shape—get some sleep.... Ah, and thank you for apologizing.”

“No, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know anything, but I imagined what kind of guy you were and hated you for it.”

“That’s understandable. But people who actually apologize, like you, are rare.”

“Honestly.... I thought you wouldn’t fight for us.”

The senior finally lifted his head.

Judging by how slowly he’d been moving, his condition didn’t seem good at all.

He must’ve been exhausted, yet he looked at me with clear eyes.

“You were so angry when you left. I thought you were quitting.... Even if you didn’t quit, I figured you’d only see enemies in the organization. I thought you’d lost all affection for it.”

“The organization?”

“For humans.”

I drew a gentle curve at the corner of my lips without saying anything.

I understood what he was getting at.

When I only smiled instead of answering, the senior murmured without taking his eyes off me.

“If it were me, I’d have scoffed and disappeared, saying ‘See how well you do without me.’”

“I’m not here solely out of love for humanity.”

“There are people who absolutely wouldn’t have come to the Creature infiltration site.”

“That’s true.”

No organization could exist where every single member was upright and decent.

I was about to say that when the senior added,

“I want to say sorry—and thank you—to your people as well....”

I let out a small laugh.

“I know it’s shameless....”

“No. I’ll pass it along for you. Or if you prefer, you can tell them yourself.”

“If possible, I’ll do it myself. Thank you.”

He studied me closely, then added heavily,

“And fuck, don’t worry about the other guys who were there back then. Most of them saw you get angry and got scared shitless. They can’t even open their mouths in front of you now.”

I really hadn’t been affected at all.

They should’ve heard the absurd rumors I’d been subjected to back in the Empire. I’d been famous to an embarrassing degree, and in the Empire, once a rumor got distorted, it was hard to correct.

Compared to those wild stories, the speculation I’d heard here was downright cute.

Still.

I was genuinely grateful for his apology.

After accepting it, we exchanged names, and I returned to my tent.

Then I briefly relayed the story to my subordinates.

The strategist, who’d recently been hearing things like, “Being nursed by Blackjack!” smiled faintly.

“That’s how reputations work. You wouldn’t care, but I’m glad public opinion seems to be shifting.”

“Wow, he was honest. He could’ve made excuses, saying he was actually on your side.”

“Is there really anyone still talking shit?”

Beside a touched Deltei, Yoow scowled deeply.

I gathered a towel and clothes to head for the shower booth.

I’d nagged Deltei and Rose to go home every time, but they never listened, so I’d carved out separate areas for the two of them inside our booth.

Rose was out right now on an errand I’d asked her to handle, though.

“No. There are hardly any seniors saying anything anymore.”

After answering Yoow, I scolded Deltei, who was chewing on vitamin gummies.

“Del. If anyone gives you trouble over nothing, tell me right away.”

“They mostly swung over to the female Badgers’ side, so it’s fine.”

“Good. And go to bed early. You’ll get mouth ulcers again at this rate.”

“I told you I’m fine!”

“When you’re done washing, let us know. I have things to pass along.”

So after I washed up and came back, Yoow delivered something fairly important.

A progress report from Heath.

William Walker really did seem to be mixed-blood.

“I’m ashamed to say we couldn’t determine who his parents were.”

“What’s there to be ashamed of?”

“...Still, I kept trying to hear news about our kin. But I couldn’t fully trace it.”

“Isn’t it better that they’ve blended in so completely you can’t tell? That’s what we wished for from the start.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

Yoow asked.

I turned toward the strategist while wiping the water from my hair with a towel.

Yoow waited for my answer, tense.

He looked a little scared.

The one who’d broken down trying to bear my absence spoke.

“There are still those who live together. Like a small tribe.... Will you go see them?”

I smiled quietly.

Standing between the tent and the isolation ward wall, I murmured,

“Not yet. If I go looking for them now, Falcon will definitely try to use them as leverage.”

“He’ll do that even if you don’t meet them.”

“True. But it’ll be safer to clear that away first.”

Honestly, I was happy that William Walker had been identified as mixed-blood.

It felt like proof that we’d blended into Earth so thoroughly that you had to dig this hard to trace our ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) origins.

Guilt welled up too. He’d said he’d grown up an orphan.

If I’d returned sooner, maybe he wouldn’t have had to live like that.

The grizzly bear–like giant of a man suddenly felt like a cute child to me.

He’d probably be disgusted if he knew I felt this kind of one-sided fondness.

Anyway....

“Can you tell them to wait a little longer?”

“Yes.”

Answering stiffly, the man let out a heavy breath, like someone who’d finally spilled something he’d been too afraid to ask.

Ah.

I placed my hand lightly on the strategist’s head as he scrubbed his face dry.

I’d been planning to go apologize to Hesh and Tom, who’d been hospitalized yesterday, but that would have to wait.

The strategist didn’t move for a while.

Then, just as I bent down in concern, he murmured,

“Eve.”

“Hm?”

“Open the drive she gave you.”

Ah.

“I think it’s time.”

***

I stared at the file title stored on Eve’s drive.

‘Bond.’