Chapter 255

Chapter 255

Let’s take a moment to talk about the past.  

As I focused, the faded memories regained their colors as if they had never been dull.  

My past was a dark red recollection, as if blood left to rot had frozen over.  

I recalled my cadet days.  

A ceiling and walls devoid of any decoration, furniture with sharp angles that seemed ready to pierce the skin at the slightest touch, steel chairs that left my buttocks and thighs numb after sitting for too long.  

Everywhere in the training facility, the only colors to be seen were shades of violet, blue, black, red, and silver-gray—a combination that could push even a sane person into the depths of despair.  

The training facility was filled with boys just like me.  

Child prodigies in the art of murder, selected through rigorous screening.  

High levels of aggression toward others. Low aversion to killing. Despite their lack of morality, they had a strong acceptance of hierarchical structures. Able to withstand neurological chemical processing… and so on.  

Only those who met the Empire’s criteria for a perfect killing machine could become Imperial Guard cadets.  

In the Imperial Guard, killing was not condemned. We were not taught to restrain our violence. Instead, our innate aggression was further amplified through chemical enhancements and psychological conditioning.  

Our bloated aggression swelled to the brink, and the Imperial Guard taught us how to release it effectively.  

Cadets like me funneled our oversized aggression outward, unleashing it in controlled bursts.  

‘I don’t know if the method that worked for me will also work on the Crawler, Boyan.’  

But all I knew was what I had been taught and what I had experienced. I had no knowledge of any other way.  

‘Just as muscles develop with use, control over aggression grows the more it is unleashed and wielded.’  

Simply suppressing it did not lead to control. Through the cycle of filling and emptying, we learned how to regulate ourselves.  

‘Come, Boyan.’  

Boyan charged at me, half-lost in his rage. His large frame lunged forward, throwing a heavy punch in my direction.  

Thud!  

His fist clashed against my forearm with brutal force. A normal human body would not have been able to withstand such an impact.  

‘No matter how exceptional his natural physique and reflexes are…’  

Boyan lacked both combat experience and proper training. He was simple, easy to read.  

In my eyes, I saw countless ways to kill him instantly. Dozens of afterimages of his death flickered through my mind.  

‘A lack of ability to gauge an opponent’s strength.’  

He charged in, purely driven by emotion. If he ever faced someone stronger than himself, he would die.

Boyan was intoxicated by his own violence. He was subconsciously aware of his own strength. It was a petty defense mechanism, deceiving even himself in his desire to prove that he was different from the other Crawlers.  

During my cadet days, my instructors and superiors had personally demonstrated their overwhelming superiority. Because of that, I had no choice but to respect, admire, and follow them.  

‘It’s not enough to simply subdue him. I have to receive everything he throws at me with composure.’  

Boyan wouldn’t be able to sustain his excessive aggression forever. His nervous system would wear out from the overload, and his body would accumulate damage.  

Beep!  

I deflected Boyan’s consecutive strikes to the side. I could have landed a punch to his abdomen right then, but I held back.  

For living beings, an aggressive stance is ‘unnatural.’ Attack posture is an act of expelling energy at an unsustainable rate. Prolonging it is also part of training.  

‘He’s slowing down. His momentum is fading.’  

The killing intent in his attacks was becoming faint. His strikes lacked vitality and had turned mechanical.  

The battle spirit that Boyan exuded was beginning to wane.  

Whoosh!  

I grabbed Boyan’s arm and swept my leg into his thigh.  

“Kaak!”  

A sharp sound of tearing flesh rang out. He’d be limping for a few days.  

‘Since he needs to study, I’ll leave his right arm intact.’  

I seized Boyan’s left arm and struck it hard with my knee. No matter how tough a Crawler was, they weren’t stronger than metal.  

Crack!  

A clean fracture resounded. Since he was still young, it would heal quickly.  

Thud!  

I followed up by striking Boyan’s chin with the base of my palm. The consecutive attacks left him disoriented, staggering in place.  

‘He really is tough. Just like Regor’s kid.’  

I had intended for that last blow to take him down, yet Boyan stubbornly endured.  

But this next strike would end it.  

I curled my outstretched hand into a fist and caught it with my opposite palm. Then, with a short swing of my elbow, I struck Boyan’s temple.  

Crack!  

Boyan staggered as if he’d been shot before collapsing to the ground.  

“As a warm-up, that wasn’t too bad, Boyan.”  

I stepped back. The unconscious Boyan was left gasping for breath.  

Thud.  

I sat down on a bench installed along the wall and drank some water.  

‘Boyan needs combat training. Even if he doesn’t want to be a warrior, he can’t deny his innate instincts.’  

The same applied to humans. The ancient ancestors of humanity were relentless hunters. They pursued their prey by walking and running for hours. That’s why, even now, if humans don’t move continuously, their physical functions deteriorate.

‘Intense combat will be beneficial for Boyan’s mental health. If he keeps suppressing his desires, they’ll manifest in a terrible way.’  

I knew the nobles of the Empire. Those who had fully replaced their bodies with prosthetics denied their human emotions, repressing them deep inside. The emotions they failed to release in time festered, and eventually, they seeped out in a sticky, putrid stench.  

‘I’m no different in the grand scheme of things. If I don’t properly release my aggression, my mind will start to warp.’  

By the time I had emptied half my water bottle, Boyan stirred. I poured the remaining water over his head.  

“Boyan, no matter what anyone says, you’re drawn to fighting and struggle. Instincts aren’t meant to be denied—they’re meant to be controlled. If you understand that, come to me for training.”  

I said my piece, whether he was listening or not, and turned to leave the training room.  

Then, from Boyan, who had been sprawled on the ground as if dead, came a faint groan.  

“Th…ank you, Luka.”  

*         *         *  

Two more days passed after I had beaten Boyan down. My terminal rang with rare good news.  

Beep.  

Lapis Lazuli had regained consciousness. She had lost her left arm and left leg in the explosion, had hovered on the brink of death, but had ultimately returned to the land of the living.  

‘A lot of people came to visit her.’  

Sitting on a bench, I watched her hospital room from a distance, waiting for my turn.  

Employees and executives from Jafa Company had come before me. Many visitors had no connection to Jafa Company at all—acquaintances of Lapis, members of various species, including her fellow Tarfa. The sheer number of people attested to her character and popularity.  

Beep.  

The elevator at the end of the hallway opened. The acrid scent that drifted out told me exactly who had arrived.  

‘Son Seok-jae.’  

Son Seok-jae had come to visit Lapis after hearing about her recovery. The young male secretary beside him was holding a bouquet—probably a get-well gift.  

“Oh, Luka, you’re here too. That’s perfect. I was feeling a bit awkward about going in alone.”  

Son Seok-jae casually sat down in front of me.  

“Lapis isn’t going to welcome your visit.”  

“Whether she welcomes it or not, I have to do my duty. It was my subordinate who caused this incident.”  

I scoffed and leaned my head against the wall.  

“You’re an effortlessly shameless villain. It’s almost admirable.”  

Despite my jab, Son Seok-jae didn’t so much as blink.  

“I’m used to being vilified.”  

I didn’t bother engaging with him any further and simply waited for my turn. Eventually, all the earlier visitors left.  

Creak.  

I stepped into the hospital room first. Son Seok-jae followed behind me.  

“Lu…”

Lapis greeted me warmly, but when she saw Son Seok-jae, her expression twisted into a frown.  

“Should I beat him up and throw him out?”  

At my words, Lapis shook her head.  

“No, it’s fine.”  

Seated beside Lapis, Son Seok-jae and I discussed the culprit behind the explosion. It was about Deputy Manager Oh.  

“Deputy Manager Oh has already been dealt with on our end. Luka here is a witness.”  

At the mention of revenge, Lapis let out a bitter smile and gazed out the window.  

“The tree harboring great evil grows taller by the day. What meaning is there in merely cutting off a branch?”  

“That’s a misunderstanding, Miss Lapis.”  

Lapis glared at Son Seok-jae.  

“You cover up your sordid past, push the blame for the remaining crimes onto your subordinates, and plan to climb higher yourself. People won’t tolerate your shamelessness forever.”  

Son Seok-jae gestured to his secretary. The secretary placed a fragrant bouquet on the table.  

“Our company may not have the wealth and power of Jafa Company, but we will support your rehabilitation and treatment to the best of our ability. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact us.”  

Son Seok-jae tucked a business card into the bouquet and rose to his feet. Like a gentleman, he bid farewell to both Lapis and me before vanishing from sight.  

Crumple.  

The moment he disappeared, I crumpled his business card and tossed it into the trash.  

“Should I throw away the flowers too?”  

“Just leave them. The flowers didn’t do anything wrong.”  

Lapis gave a faint smile.  

“I’ve already heard a rough account of what happened. And Jafa…”  

“Just like you woke up, Jafa will recover soon. She’s already waking up occasionally to set the company’s policies.”  

Lapis stared at the places where her left arm and left leg should have been. The stumps were tightly wrapped in bandages.  

“This might be a good opportunity for me to try out a prosthetic arm and leg myself. If I use them firsthand, I can develop even better ones. With a prosthetic hand, I could also work on more precise tasks.”  

“In this day and age, missing a limb or two isn’t even considered a flaw.”  

Lapis placed a hand over her lips and chuckled. We talked about various things for a while.  

Before I left, Lapis offered me a warning.  

“Luka, be careful. One of my Tarfa friends who visited today has large horns. He told me he’s been having a persistent sense of foreboding lately. He said the entire Border City is shrouded in the omens of disaster. He even advised me to leave Border City for a while. I turned him down, though.”  

I searched my memory.

The Tarfa race had several distinct physical traits—youthful features due to delayed maturation, black eyes without visible whites, blue skin, and a pair of blunt horns.  

‘Tarfans with large horns are respected among their own. Horns hold deep significance for them.’  

Even in Noel Mullizcane’s memories, there had been a Tarfa with large horns.  

“Tarfans with bigger horns have a more developed intuition, bordering on precognition. You could call it a mystical sixth sense.”  

Lapis tapped her own horns as she spoke. She had caught on to my curiosity right away.  

“I’ll keep that in mind. And I’ll always leave the communication line open for you. Call me immediately if anything happens.”  

With that, I finished my visit and stepped out of the hospital. The streets were dimly lit.  

I wandered briefly through an alley lined with food stalls, as if just looking for a late-night snack.  

‘Who is it?’  

I had felt someone’s gaze on me ever since leaving the hospital. Someone was tailing me through the crowd.  

I stopped at a skewer vendor. Through the vendor’s old, cracked mirror, I observed the movement of the people behind me.  

‘The one with the strongest scent.’  

I picked the skewer that smelled the most pungent.  

Beep.  

After paying with a credit chip, I took the skewer loaded with unidentifiable chunks of meat and walked into a side alley.  

Thud. Thunk.  

I plucked a chunk of meat off the skewer and tossed it deeper inside before rolling in the opposite direction. The strong scent was now moving away from me.  

If they were tracking by scent, they’d think I was heading farther away.  

‘One, two, three…’  

I pressed my back against the wall and counted in my head, ready to grab the collar of whoever entered the alley.  

Whoosh!  

But my target was quick—they caught my wrist with both hands, twisting sharply in an attempt to break my hold.  

I feigned pulling my arm away and instead aimed for their knee. Sensing the attack, they quickly stepped back.  

‘Their reaction speed is impressive.’  

I was surprised. Their skill was considerable.  

‘Should I draw my weapon?’  

My original plan of subduing them barehanded for interrogation had failed.  

“…Lukaus Custoria. I have no intention of fighting you.”  

The man took a step back and spoke. Then, he pulled back his hood, revealing his face.  

I narrowed my eyes. His face felt oddly familiar.  

The synthetic skin he hadn’t replaced in time was rough and cracked in places. Wrinkles folded at the corners of his mouth and eyes.  

“A former Imperial Guard? No, wait… Were you one of the Commander’s close aides?”  

My memory and intuition overlapped faintly.  

His presence reminded me of one of the close confidants who had once stood beside Hemillas.  

“So it really is you.”

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