Volume 2 Chapter 45: News
Garde fell silent.
He had to admit—for just a split second, he was tempted.
But then, he looked at the creature on his shoulder.
If he were being generous, he could call it a slime.
If he were being blunt… it was just a pile of stinking muck.
There was no point in hoping.
Seaborn had zero sense of aesthetics.
Did it even know what "white-haired, red-eyed, beautiful girl" meant?
Since they were inherently incompatible—sworn enemies, destined to kill each other—Garde didn't even bother answering the question about the Seaborn's god.
He made no effort to hide the Seaborn on his shoulder.
Some people were definitely getting the wrong idea.
But he didn't care.
Columbia was a nation, and nations had rules.
Within those rules, Rhine Lab was a well-known, powerful corporation.
A simple investigation wouldn't faze them.
Outside of those rules?
What was Columbia going to do? Send a high-speed warship after him?
A cheap trick like that could only work once.
Most people assumed that taking down a single Head of Defense was easier than taking down an entire corporation.
No matter how strong an individual was, could he possibly be stronger than an entire squad of well-trained mercenaries?
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Meanwhile, back in an alley—
After Garde left, the Forte man finally gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the ground.
Still sore from the fight, he dialed a number on his communicator.
"Boss, that guy's strong. Ordinary people won't be able to handle him."
"I know," the voice on the other end replied. "But we don't need to take him down. We just needed to confirm one thing—Rhine Lab is hiding something from us. Now we know."
"You mean…?"
"As long as we're sure the thing is in Rhine Lab's hands, we can force them to hand it over. Our main priority now is making sure that creature doesn't fall into someone else's hands."
"So… does that mean we're supposed to protect him now?"
"Doesn't matter. You're in the Middle District right now, close to Rhine Lab's headquarters. As long as he returns to Rhine Lab, we won't have to worry about any accidents. No one dares cause trouble in Trimounts's Higher District."
No matter which mobile city you were in, the Higher District always had the best security.
Because only the rich and powerful lived there—nobles, tycoons, and corporate elites.
You could run into an old man taking a casual stroll, and he might be a billionaire.
If he yelled, an entire security squad could show up in seconds.
Under those circumstances, no one in their right mind would dare cause trouble in the Higher District.
But the Forte man couldn't hide the bitter expression on his face.
"Boss…"
He glanced toward the direction Garde had left.
"That Adakrys guy… looks like he's heading toward the Lower District instead."
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BOOM!
The moment Garde set foot in Lower District, an explosion erupted.
In mobile cities, the Lower District was often called the slums.
These old, worn-out city sectors were overrun with shantytowns.
For most mobile city administrators, Lower District was a lost cause—too much effort, not enough reward.
Compared to other cities, Trimounts's Lower District was actually one of the better ones.
Not just because Trimounts's economy was booming and the city had spare funds to support its lower-class citizens, but because corporations and shell companies had turned Lower District into a maze of secret research facilities.
The security they stationed here wasn't overwhelming, but it wasn't weak, either.
However, order was nothing more than a mask worn by the privileged to justify their rule.
When necessary, they had no qualms about tearing that mask off, revealing their bloody, ruthless true selves.
Originium bombs, crossbows, siege lances…
Weapons that were supposedly banned within mobile cities now appeared openly in the hands of corporate mercenaries.
"Hunter, they… want to harm… my kin."
"I won't let them."
"Why?"
The Seaborn on Garde's shoulder asked in confusion.
"Hunter… you and I… enemies. You are strong… you hunt us. We are weak… we are prey."
Garde didn't really understand how the Seaborn's "god" determined strength.
Logically, it should have encountered far more terrifying creatures before—
After all, the ocean was filled with giants, and many of them were far more monstrous than any Feranmut.
Yet, when it came to those sea beasts, this "god" never showed the same patience it had with him.
Was it because of Ascension Power?
Garde didn't answer the Seaborn's question.
He wasn't about to tell it the real reason—that he simply didn't want the Seaborn to step onto land and destroy everything he held dear.
That would be the same as handing over his greatest weakness.
Ring ring—
His communicator buzzed in his pocket.
A mercenary sniper had already climbed up a high-rise, taking position on the ninth floor.
As soon as Garde stepped into view, a crossbow bolt shot toward his face.
Garde tilted his head slightly.
The arrow missed entirely, not even leaving a scratch.
He reached up, grabbed the sniper, and casually tossed him out the window.
Then, he pulled out his communicator and checked the screen.
Hah.
So this woman finally decided to call me.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end belonged to Kristen.
"Garde, where are you right now?"
"Lower District."
Garde barely glanced around as he suddenly accelerated.
Leaping straight down from the ninth floor, he landed lightly and strode toward the city gate.
He reached into his pocket and handed his ID to the gate guards.
"Apologies, Mr. Garde."
One of the gate officials—a fat, sweaty military officer—came jogging over, gasping for breath.
"Given the current unrest, you are temporarily restricted from leaving the city. We will arrange a safe location for you to stay."
The officer stole a glance behind Garde—
At the trail of destruction he had left in his wake.
The man wiped the sweat off his forehead, looking utterly terrified.
From his vantage point on the city walls, he had seen everything.
This Adakrys man had single-handedly torn through an entire mercenary defensive line.
Even though the corporate mercenaries had been disorganized, and Garde had moved too fast for them to coordinate properly—
He had still gone through three full squads, plus countless hidden snipers.
Yet…
He hadn't suffered so much as a single scratch.
The officer couldn't help but wonder—
Was Garde really just a person?
Or was he actually some bioweapon engineered by Rhine Lab?
Meanwhile, Kristen's voice continued through the communicator.
"Garde, are you trying to leave Trimounts? There's no need. Director Parvis already explained—"
"The creature you have is just a biological sample he cultivated from some tissue found along the Sargon coast."
"He's very sorry for the trouble it caused. If the Columbian government demands it, we're willing to hand it over—"
"So it really was that old bastard."
"We'll talk when I get back. I expect you to have an answer for me by then."
"Garde, what are you planning?"
"Leaving. For now."
Holding his communicator in one hand, Garde pressed his other hand against the city wall.
As if testing its structure.
"No! You can't do this! If you leave now, it will confirm that the creature in your possession is problematic. The entire Rhine Lab will be put at a disadvantage!"
"That's your problem."
Garde cut Kristen off.
His gaze swept across the towering city wall in front of him, completely ignoring the tense city guards watching him from the gate.
"I don't care if you throw Parvis under the bus or do something else—"
"If you truly understood what this creature is, you'd understand why I have to do this."
"If the creature in your hands is dangerous, then you should hand it over to the Columbian authorities." Kristen pressed on.
"If Columbia wants it, then let them have it. We don't need to bear the risks of studying it ourselves."
Kristen wouldn't normally waste this much effort trying to persuade someone.
But Garde was different.
He was someone Saria acknowledged.
He could afford to get into trouble elsewhere—
But not in Trimounts.
"Kristen, this is exactly why I can't stand you."
Garde finally let his irritation show.
"You only care about your own interests. You only think about what you can gain, but never about the responsibilities that come with it."
"Has Saria been spoiling you too much?"
Listening to Garde word, Kristen began to talk, "If Saria were here—"
"If Saria were here, she'd make the same decision I did!"
Garde declared without hesitation.
"My only concern is taking this Seaborn away from here."
"Parvis created this mess—he should be the one to clean it up."
"Rhine Lab approved his research, so they should take responsibility for whatever consequences it brings."
Before the stunned guards, Garde began climbing the several-hundred-meter-high city wall.
From the top, he gazed out at the endless wilderness beyond.
"Don't expect someone to clean up after you every time."
"I don't want to spend time with Saria only for her to be running around fixing your messes all day."
Garde didn't want to have a conflict with Kristen.
He didn't want to put Saria in a difficult position.
But that didn't mean he was going to indulge Kristen's every decision.
There were things he needed to discuss with Saria when she returned.
Ignoring Kristen's continued protests, Garde hung up.
Then, from the hundreds-of-meters-high city wall—
He jumped.
Just before hitting the ground, he grabbed onto the wall's surface to slow his descent.
Not that he needed to.
Even if he landed at full force, he would've been fine.
But what if he hit someone?
The city guards stood frozen in shock.
He had just jumped off a wall hundreds of meters high—
And landed unscathed.
They never even considered that refusing him at the gate would result in this.
Who could've guessed that this Adakrys man was such a monster?
Meanwhile—
Columbia's Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Arts Units and Originium.
A high-priority document landed on the desk of Trimounts Branch Director, Charles.
Upon reading it, Charles' expression darkened.
One order after another left his lips.
"All units, prepare to place all Rhine Lab personnel under strict control. We need to determine exactly how much they know about Foehn Hotlands."
"Additionally, begin covert operations to apprehend Priority Target One—Garde."
"If necessary, contact the military."
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