Chapter 194: The Executioner and The Hacker
Just as Blade's cracked ancient sword was about to descend, a blur of purple threads, fine as spider silk yet strong as steel, appeared from thin air.
ZzzzzT—!
The threads instantly entangled the sword, stopping its momentum just centimeters from your throat. The air crackled with contained energy.
Kafka had appeared between the two of you, her hand raised, the threads wrapped around her fingertips. She didn't look angry; she looked… bored.
"Blade, stop."
The man called "Blade" stopped, his body trembling, not from exertion, but from a deep, agonizing need. His crimson, Mara-touched eyes remained madly fixed on you.
"Kafka… don't block me!" he hissed, his voice a low growl of gravel and pain. "He… He is the man who can kill everything!"
You frowned, your hand still on the hilt of your own blade, every instinct screaming. "No, who is this beast-like guy?"
Firefly immediately stepped in front of you, her own body tense and ready to summon SAM. "Orion, be careful! He is our companion… Blade. It's just... I'm not sure if he's suffering from Mara-struck again."
"Mara-struck..." you repeated thoughtfully, the term jogging no memories.
[Inorin's Note: Mara-struck is a condition affecting the long-life species of the Xianzhou, akin to a spiritual corruption from the Aeon of Abundance. It causes loss of sanity, uncontrollable rage, and eventually, undeath.]
Blade's heavy, ragged breathing filled the restaurant. "Why are you stopping me?" He stared intently at you, his gaze bypassing Firefly completely. His eyes were filled with a terrible, desperate, almost religious longing.
"My wish… it's about to be fulfilled!" he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Those eyes… those eyes that can see through death… they will surely kill me!"
You finally understood. The realization hit you like a physical blow. This man… is seeking death?
After your own agonizing return from the void, after witnessing the deaths of Jiang Li and Neergul, here was someone cursed with the one thing he didn't want: life.
"No. It's not time yet," Kafka walked up to Blade, her voice soft and hypnotic. She gently placed her ungloved hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me… Calm down."
Blade's body trembled violently, as if fighting an invisible war. The terrifying, inhuman madness in his eyes gradually receded, replaced by a cold, familiar despair. He slowly lowered the cracked sword, but his gaze remained fixed on you, filled with a nearly pathological, obsessive hope.
"The time is not right, Blade," Kafka continued, her voice a soothing balm on his fractured mind. "Elio's script is precise. You know this."
Blade was silent for a long, heavy moment. "...Is the time... not right." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of his cursed existence.
Firefly quietly explained to you, her voice low. "Blade… he's immortal. No matter how severe the injury, it will heal instantly. He cannot die. He is trapped in a body that refuses to end, even as his mind is eaten by the Mara. He... he has always been looking for a way to truly kill him."
You looked at Blade, at this tall, broken man. Am I like him? you wondered. Your own regeneration, while powerful, was a blessing of Abundance. His was a curse. The loneliness and pain of being the sole survivor... the pain of being unable to die... you suddenly understood Blade a little.
Blade seemed to read your thoughts. His crimson gaze met yours, and for a moment, you saw not a monster, but a prisoner.
"You… also bear something, don't you?" he rasped. "I saw it in your eyes. That pain of wanting to protect something but being unable to."
You did not deny it. The two of you looked at each other, two souls suffering from the same affliction, though on opposite ends of the spectrum.
A moment later, Blade gave you a deep, final look. He sheathed his sword and turned to leave. At the doorway, he stopped.
"Orion."
You met his gaze.
"Live well. Before that moment comes, you must live well. You are not allowed to die by any other hand." He turned his head, a strange, morbid smile on his lips.
"After all… You are my future executioner. I will protect you. No one can kill you before I die."
With that, he was gone, melting back into the shadows of the ship.
The oppressive, cold tension in the restaurant vanished, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.
"Did he just say… he wants to protect me?" you asked, utterly confused by the interaction.
"Yes," Kafka said, returning to her seat as if nothing had happened. She casually picked up her wine glass. "In a sense, you are now one of the most important people to him. You are the one who can end his suffering. You are his hope."
The restaurant became quiet again, the three of you looking at the remnants of your meal. The absurdity of the situation—a life-and-death confrontation followed by... dinner—was not lost on you.
But the quiet didn't last long.
"Come, have some more of this," Firefly said, her voice a little shaky but determined to break the tension. She placed a piece of grilled fish on your plate. "You must have been terrified. Eating will help."
"This one's good too," Kafka elegantly pushed a delicate-looking dessert in front of you. "He doesn't need fish, Firefly. He needs sugar. For the shock."
Under the continuous, and suddenly competitive, feeding of the two women, your plate quickly piled up into a small mountain. Firefly offered nutritious, practical food. Kafka offered decadent, sweet luxuries.
"Wait, please," you finally said, holding up a hand, completely exasperated. "Are you two trying to stuff me to death? Is this Blade's backup plan?"
Finally, after finishing the last piece of meat—which you'd eaten just to make them stop—you leaned back in your chair, feeling more tired from the meal than the fight.
"Get some good rest," Kafka stood up, dabbing her lips with a napkin. Her demeanor shifted from playful dinner companion back to the efficient leader. "In a couple of days, we'll have a new mission."
"New mission?" you looked up in surprise. "Already?"
"How come the Stellaron Hunters feel a bit like workhorses..." you muttered.
Kafka smiled. "That's quite an apt description. But don't worry, this mission will be very easy. We're going to welcome a new companion."
"Another new person?" Firefly asked, her interest piqued.
"A top-tier hacker," Kafka said, a hint of genuine admiration in her voice. "Throughout the entire known universe, those who can contend with her in the cyber world—the 'Aether-Verse'—can be counted on one hand."
"A hacker?" you frowned. "Why do we need a hacker?"
"Elio's script often requires... alternative entry methods," Kafka explained. "Bypassing planetary blockades, accessing sealed data, manipulating galactic networks. Her skills will be indispensable."
"But why do we need to 'welcome' her?" Firefly asked, catching the nuance. "Is she in trouble?"
"Because her current situation... is a bit special," Kafka shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "After all, she just, by herself, hacked into the Interstellar Peace Corporation's main trade server."
[Inorin's Note: The Interstellar Peace Corporation (IPC) is one of the largest and most powerful factions in the galaxy, a mega-corporation that follows the Aeon of Preservation, Qlipoth. They control galactic trade and finance.]
Kafka continued, "...and she conveniently deleted their entire customer database for the last fiscal quarter. Just for fun."
"..." Orion and Firefly both fell silent. This hacker was truly, audaciously, insane. Hacking the IPC was like spray-painting a god's temple.
"So, as you can imagine, the IPC is rather... displeased," Kafka said, her smile widening. "They've dispatched a significant fleet to her last known location. We need to get to her before they do."
"For now, get some good rest," Kafka said, turning to leave. At the doorway, she turned back, a final, playful thought striking her.
"Oh, and Orion? Remember to prepare a game console. That child's hobby. According to Elio, the key to recruiting her isn't a show of force. It's a rare, limited-edition, vintage handheld game."
Kafka winked. "If you want to get along with her, it's best to cater to her preferences."