Bad Born Blood

Chapter 227

Our homeland is Earth. However, longing for Earth remains only faintly at the genetic level.  

No, even that trace of nostalgia wouldn’t exist for me. My ancestor’s ancestor wasn’t even from Earth.  

My people and I are of the bloodline of a desolate exile planet called Arc. To survive in an environment barren and far from life, the forebears of the Empire chose augmentation through prosthetics as their means of adaptation.  

……I'm rambling, Luka.  

Earth, Arc—no, that’s not what’s important right now.  

The cradle of modern humanity is Planet Novus. Here, the universe’s melting pot, where humanity mingles with all kinds of alien species, and at its very heart lay Border City.  

Kinuan, Kinuan, Kinuan…  

That man stood among the crowd as if he were the very core of Border City.  

If Border City was the center of Planet Novus, and Kinuan was its nucleus… then did that mean the protagonist of Planet Novus was Kinuan?  

An absurd thought crossed my mind.  

And if I took the delusion a step further—if Planet Novus was the central stage of this universe?  

The universe, Planet Novus, Border City, Kinuan.  

Moving toward the center, being the center, becoming the center, as if it were always meant to be.  

At the center of my universe, a single point was marked—Kinuan. My universe revolved around his gravity.  

Was I really thinking that the universe was turning around Kinuan?  

Yeah, it was a ridiculous, maddening delusion. That was how much his presence was suffocating me.  

The moment I saw Kinuan, my thoughts spiraled out of control. It was as if my brain had malfunctioned—there wasn’t even a single combat reaction. Neither reason nor instinct knew how to respond.  

Even my specialty, aggression, refused to surface. It felt like my hormonal glands had shut down entirely, dried up and barren.  

I forcibly roused my mechanical combat responses. The output of my prosthetics was rising.  

I had expected myself to go berserk the moment I met Kinuan.  

But I didn’t. There was too much—too many complex emotions between Kinuan and me. Even the moment and timing of our encounter felt bizarre.  

Grit.  

I strode toward Kinuan. No one else existed in my vision. I pushed forward, shoving people out of my way.  

“You—ugh, crack! Aaaagh! Aaack!”  

The wrist of someone grabbing me snapped. I ruthlessly cast them aside, advancing forward.  

A dull blade named Luka was closing in on Kinuan.  

I—I—I…  

Through trembling lips, I muttered to myself.  

Don’t let Kinuan control your emotions and thoughts. Don’t think the way he wants you to—!!

Kinuan pointed to a food stall packed with people. I didn’t know what they were selling, but a pungent aroma filled the air.  

"We’re not exactly in the kind of relationship where we sit down for a meal and reminisce…"  

"Don’t be so cold. Giselle used to love the noodle dish from that stall."  

Ah, finally. That name rolled off Kinuan’s tongue. My hair stood on end, one strand at a time.  

I closed my eyes.  

…Reach out and twist Kinuan’s neck. Pop his skull open like a canned good and extract his brain. Slice up that pink mass and carve out the whereabouts of Giselle.  

Alright. I imagined it that far. It was a sweet fantasy, one that nearly made my mouth water.  

Then I opened my eyes, shattering the illusion.  

Let’s be realistic. Even if I took Kinuan’s brain intact right now, I wouldn’t be able to extract his memories or information. Not because of any technical limitation—I just had a gut feeling.  

And I was confident that my own memories couldn’t be extracted either. Kinuan? Even more so.  

"…Now that I think about it, maybe we can share a meal. You’re paying, Instructor."  

I grinned viciously.  

"Even though I’m unemployed, I’m not shameless enough to mooch off my own student."  

We approached the stall.  

Murmur, murmur. Slurp. Chomp.  

The stall was so packed that there were no empty seats.  

"Oh? Look at that—exactly two seats left. Doesn't it feel like the universe set them aside just for us?"  

Kinuan gestured with his chin.  

"What a coincidence. Exactly two seats left."  

I placed my hands on the shoulders of the two men sitting there. They had the right kind of rough look—smart enough to read the mood.  

Crack.  

My prosthetic fingers tightened. My grip dug into their flesh.  

"Looks like you just finished your meal, huh? These places need high turnover, you know. Hurry up and clear out."  

I leaned in between them and spoke. Bloodstains spread on their shoulders.  

"Guh… Kgh…! F-Finished eating!"  

"Tch… Fuck! That hurts! We’re getting up, alright?! Damn it!"  

The two men grabbed their bowls and chopsticks and scrambled up. Though they grumbled, they had the sense to recognize the danger radiating from me and Kinuan. As expected, street punks like them knew when to back down.  

Tap, tap.  

The stall owner brushed off some boiled noodles and looked at us indifferently, as if this kind of thing happened all the time.  

"Two Fire Rat Stir-Fried Noodles."  

Kinuan ordered as he sat down first.  

"Fire rat?"  

I echoed, sitting next to him.  

Though the conversation was mundane, my mind raced with thousands of thoughts.

"Border City is known for its rat meat delicacies. Looks like you haven’t tried it before."  

The food arrived quickly.  

Noodles were coated in a fiery sauce, with chunks of rat meat laid on top.  

At first glance, it looked less like food and more like something used for torture. I barely dipped the tip of my chopsticks into it and took a small bite—immediately, a burning heat surged across my tongue.  

"This isn’t taste. This is pure pain."  

"Did you know? The brain’s regions for processing pain and pleasure are closely connected. You could even say they’re practically the same organ. Pain creates pleasure, and pleasure creates pain. Look at them." Kinuan gestured toward the other diners. "They’re getting high on nothing but physical sensation."  

Even in a situation like this, Kinuan played the teacher. I narrowed my eyes and picked at the food with small bites.  

"Enough with the lecture. Now answer my questions. We’re not far from Jafa’s corporate headquarters. A man of your caliber wouldn’t rely on the mercy or sentiment of an old student to guarantee your safety. If that’s the naïve thought you had in mind, then today marks the end of Kinuan’s journey."  

I increased my prosthetic output. It wouldn’t take even a second to crush him.  

Drdrdrdrdr…  

The sheer force radiating from me made the stall tremble.  

"You want to know about Giselle’s wherea—"  

"I told you, I ask the questions, Kinuan. That was my final warning."  

"I only have one thing to say. Giselle’s wherea—"  

Kinuan deliberately provoked me.  

I reached for the back of his neck, intending to slam his head into the stall. But before I could, a chill sliced down my spine.  

Sssssss.  

I followed my instincts and shifted my gaze.  

Clatter.  

The hands of the diners froze in mid-motion. Chopsticks slipped from fingers, landing on bowls, the stall counter, or the floor.  

Creak.  

Even the stall owner, in the middle of slicing rat meat, had stopped. His cleaver remained embedded in a moldy cutting board, completely still.  

Wuuuung… Wuuuuuung… Wuuuung…  

A faint high-frequency hum resonated.  

Drip.  

A crimson line spread across the necks of the stall owner and the other diners.  

‘They’re all dead.’

Among the crowds moving around the stall, there were assassins so skilled that even I had difficulty detecting them. Their presence was so faint it was nearly nonexistent.  

No—this wasn’t just skill. Their presence was unnaturally transparent.  

I didn’t know why. Not yet.  

I always say this—Akies Victima does not create something from nothing. It is a technique that operates strictly within the limits of my knowledge.

"You’re right. Even if I’ve aged, I haven’t grown weak enough to rely on your sentiment."  

Kinuan spoke as he picked up a piece of rat meat and ate it. The quiet chewing sounds spread through the silence.  

"You lied about growing weaker? Well, I know it’s a meaningless question. There’s no need to distinguish between falsehood and truth. For someone who has become a lie itself, it’s a pointless act."  

"Excellent. You truly are a student who understands ten when taught one. Among all the Akies Victima users I’ve trained, none surpass you. That is an undeniable truth."  

"You’re still as generous with your praise as ever."  

I twisted my lips indifferently, then twitched my nose.  

The smell of blood was thickening.  

The bloodlines on the stall owner’s and customers’ necks grew longer and wider, and soon, their wounds were splitting open.  

With just the slightest impact, their heads would detach from their bodies and roll onto the ground. Until that moment, conversation was still an option.  

"They’re Dead Ronin. Even you wouldn’t detect them easily. They’re unique in many ways."  

I knew the term Dead Ronin.  

It was a name I had come across when I investigated Kinuan in the lower districts. Back then, it was mentioned as a security company. Of course, these people weren’t from that company. More likely, Dead Ronin was just one of Kinuan’s favorite terms.  

"Valek too?"  

"Hmm, ah, Valek, Valek. Right, I had forgotten. Valek was the weakest among the Dead Ronin."  

A faint chuckle rippled through the passing crowd. Unpleasant bastards, every one of them.  

Drip.  

The stall owner’s head looked as if it would slip off at any moment. The bloodline on his neck had darkened into something like a choker, and his chest was becoming completely soaked in blood.  

There were many things I wanted to ask Kinuan. But I had already wasted too much time in this probing match.  

"The ones you trained seem quite troublesome, Instructor, but let’s see how this plays out… The Equessian mercenaries seem fairly capable as well."  

I stood up as I spoke. My fingers inside my coat had already slipped around the trigger of my auto-tracking pistol.  

‘A risky gamble, but one worth taking.’  

Noticing my shift in intent, Kinuan set down his chopsticks and looked up at me.  

"…Exchange information on Giselle for Paolo Kwan’s legacy."  

At last, Kinuan revealed the true purpose he had been holding back until the very end.