「Who Is Instructor J? The Hero of Mercato Shrouded in Mystery!」
「Who is the instructor who made the Empire tremble, the Human Composite State shudder, and even the Council of Mercato cling to his pant leg while begging him through tears to stay until the very end?」
The media was in a frenzy, but Jin Crow knew better than anyone that it was nothing more than a brief spectacle.
Naturally.
The more sensational the news, the more quickly it would be buried beneath something even more sensational.
Sure enough.
Whether it was the military's intention or that of the politicians, the media that had been shining the spotlight on him soon died down just as quickly, swept away by entertainment gossip and various incidents.
「Successive Stock Market Crashes. Investment Expert Buffet Musk... “Prepare for Winter.”」
「Creature and Defense Stocks Soar, Retail Investors Laughing and Crying.」
Moreover, one of the reasons was the massive economic aftershock that would later be recorded in history textbooks as the Creature Crisis, causing stock prices to fluctuate wildly.
It was hardly strange.
Most people were, after all, ruthlessly indifferent and cold toward matters that did not concern them personally, forever wandering in search of fresh stimulation like slaves to dopamine.
“...In recognition of the aforementioned achievements, Major Jin Crow is hereby awarded the First-Class Iron Cross Knight Medal.”
Of course, that did not mean his achievements were ignored or undervalued simply because public attention had faded.
Using the Second-Class Iron Cross Knight Medal he had previously received for dealing with Rank-2 wanted criminal Liberto as a stepping stone, he was now awarded the First-Class Iron Cross Knight Medal, an honor typically reserved for wartime.
On top of that came a generous and completely legitimate bonus.
Although his rank remained unchanged, this assignment had been a thoroughly satisfying one for Jin Crow.
Aside from the fact that it was an absolute nightmare.
He returned to the academy with Ner.
Naturally, the first thing he intended to do was resume teaching, but unexpectedly, Ideale stopped him.
“Take about a week off before returning.”
“Understood.”
For a moment, he nearly asked, Why?
But he held it back.
To be fair, this time he really did need the rest.
...He had been worked to the bone.
He had spent roughly two weeks in the Free Planet Alliance, then another two weeks after everything happened.
For nearly a month, he had done nothing but work without getting any proper rest.
“Unexpected. I thought someone like you would say rest is a luxury.”
“What exactly do you take me for?”
“...Ahem.”
He did not bother waiting for an answer.
The moment he saw the awkwardness flicker across Ideale's usually composed eyes, he instinctively knew it would not be anything flattering.
Thus, he unexpectedly found himself with a week's vacation.
He headed straight to the dormitory he considered home, gave the small room to Ner, and collapsed onto his own bed.
“Haa—.”
It was a breath too light to be called a sigh, yet too heavy to be called a murmur.
Closing his eyes, he finally realized how mentally exhausted he truly was.
He had not noticed while returning and moving around, but the moment he received his leave, the accumulated fatigue and soreness crashed over him.
“...I don't even have the strength to shower.”
No matter how much he had ignored and suppressed it, the damage to his body remained.
Considering he had relied almost entirely on painkiller patches while consuming awakening drugs like water, it was only natural.
Rustle.
He casually removed the black gloves from his hands and stuffed them into the pocket of his military uniform.
Lifting himself halfway, he took off the black dress uniform draped over him and hung it over a chair.
With rough movements, he loosened his tie and tossed it aside before undoing several buttons of the shirt constricting his neck.
“Haa.”
Having finally stripped away everything weighing him down, he surrendered himself to the overwhelming drowsiness.
As if it had been waiting all along, his consciousness sank into profound darkness.
Please... no nightmares this time.
Holding on to that small wish, he let go of the last thread of consciousness.
「Colony Planet, Area-4」
Originally a planet where criminals had been relocated to mine resources during the early colonial era, it gradually lost its economic viability.
The governor-general's incompetence, followed by riots that ultimately escalated into nuclear detonations, had effectively condemned the planet to abandonment.
A planet of death.
Of course, not everyone had been able to leave.
Relocating to another planet required an enormous amount of money.
Those who could not afford it even after gathering every last possession, or those left behind for unavoidable reasons, had no choice but to build lives amid the barren, abandoned wasteland.
“I heard Eta-6 fell this time. Apparently it used to belong to the Empire.”
“I heard it changed hands several times. That's probably why people from there are so tough.”
“What good is being tough? They'll all get drafted anyway.”
“Heh. True enough.”
Hiss—
Psssh—
“How much for this?”
“Ten thousand dollars per kilogram. No bargaining.”
“Tsk. You're firm.”
The breathing of gas masks, worn to survive the sandstorms laced with radiation, filled the streets.
Beneath the ruined city left behind by war, another city had been built.
Estimated population:
One billion.
Though abandoned by their homeland, they stubbornly continued living.
In the end, their only consolation was that they had fallen beyond the Human Composite State's attention.
However, there was one thing they did not know.
The Human Composite State had abandoned them.
That did not mean they were no longer useful.
Vroooom—
A convoy of trucks entered a deep valley, using the sandstorm as cover.
The trucks soon passed through a holographic wall and drove beyond a checkpoint.
The soldier behind the wheel spoke to the man beside him.
“How many times has this been now?”
“The fourteenth.”
“Tsk. It's getting harder and harder to acquire 'resources.'”
“Can't be helped. Too many died during the Second Galactic War, but the demand for Special-duty officers hasn't gone away.”
Eventually, the convoy reached a hangar.
Creeeak—
On a planet where even the Human Composite State's governor-general's office had officially withdrawn, groups of soldiers moved busily about.
Every single one wore a black gas mask and brown military uniforms devoid of insignia or rank.
Brown uniforms symbolized a planetary defense force.
However, anyone with a keen eye would realize they were merely disguises suited for operations in the wasteland.
“Haa.”
The soldiers climbed out of their vehicles, letting out short breaths before grimacing at the researchers approaching them with eager expressions.
Mad scientist bastards.
The soldiers themselves were only carrying out orders from above.
But every time they saw those delighted faces, they felt an overwhelming urge to punch them.
Still, it remained only a thought.
Silently, he handed over the truck's security key.
The researchers, acting as though conversation was unnecessary, immediately headed for the rear of the truck.
“How many were scheduled to arrive this time?”
“Forty-two.”
The female researcher following behind answered the senior researcher's question in an indifferent voice.
She did not sound excited.
Nor did she sound as though she felt anything at all.
“Hmm. Hmm-hmm...”
The man paid no attention and opened the cargo compartment.
Inside, he saw the faint silhouettes of boys and girls curled up tightly within rows of iron cages.
“Well then. Greetings, my adorable little lab rats.”
Senior researcher Theodor Morell looked upon the "resources" now in his possession with unmistakable satisfaction.
Among them sat a young boy with black hair and black eyes, quietly hugging his knees.
“...Mom.”
A single word escaped his cracked lips.
It was the final whisper of longing for someone he would never see again.
“...This feels awful.”
Jin Crow woke nearly ten hours later.
Without even bothering to straighten his slightly disheveled hair, he tried to identify the source of the strange, unpleasant feeling lingering within him.
Nothing came to mind.
“Did I have a nightmare without realizing it?”
At least the previous nightmares had left behind vague memories.
This one left nothing.
After pondering it for quite some time, he eventually shook his head, got out of bed, and stepped out of the room.
He reached into his pocket and placed a cigarette between his lips.
Then, just as he sat down on the sofa and instinctively reached to light it—
“You're awake.”
“...Damn.”
Seeing Ner carefully emerge from the room, he bit down on the cigarette filter before pulling it from his mouth with his fingers.
After a brief moment of thought, he looked at Ner, who was wearing an oversized white military shirt, and asked,
“Would you prefer I treat you as an adult?”
It was not a strange question.
Outwardly, she was unquestionably a young girl.
But inside was Mother AI, who had lived for centuries.
Perhaps because she knew he was consciously taking her into consideration, Ner blinked her distinctive golden eyes before giving an exceedingly textbook answer.
“Mentally, I certainly exceed the standards of an ordinary adult. However, my physical condition corresponds to that of an adolescent of the same age. Secondhand smoke has an extremely harmful effect on physical development...”
“God damn it.”
Perhaps the original Jin Crow would not have cared.
But having lived in the twenty-first century while trying, at the very least, to observe proper smoking etiquette, smoking in front of what looked like a ten-year-old girl felt only a step removed from being human trash.
With half-hearted resignation, he snapped the cigarette—its filter already thoroughly chewed—in half.
“So, have you organized what you can tell me?”
The cigarette could wait.
Taking the hip flask from his pocket and raising it to his lips, he asked.
It was hardly an abrupt question.
The brief conversation they had previously shared had not ended because he was satisfied with it.
It had merely been a preliminary step before having a deeper and more serious discussion.
Ner understood that as well, so she answered without much hesitation.
“I do not know very much either.”
Unfortunately, that opening was not the answer Jin Crow had hoped for.
His brow twitched involuntarily.
Ner, however, continued without paying it much attention.
“However, after calculating the possible outcomes, I believe I can answer your question regarding the designation 'Irregular.'”
Irregular.
By definition, it referred to something abnormal, unconventional, and outside the established order.
If he claimed the word did not strike a nerve, he would be lying.
Unlike Baek Hui-young, who was a Regressor, he was an unwelcome intruder thrust into this world by some godlike existence.
How could he not be tense?
If even the smallest fragment of the truth about himself came from Ner's lips...
How am I supposed to respond?
Remaining silent, he waited for her to continue.
The aroma of whiskey resting in his mouth gently pressed against the back of his throat.
Then Ner's lips slowly parted.
“You are the one who twisted fate with your own hands. The one who, through wrath, sought to cast off the shackles of the avenger and bound yourself instead.”
Though Jin Crow was reflected in Ner's golden eyes, her gaze was fixed beyond him.
It was but a tiny fragment of a truth buried so deeply and sealed so tightly that it could not yet be spoken aloud.
“EVE is waiting for you.”
Hiding the growing confusion within himself, Jin Crow emptied the rest of the whiskey into his mouth.
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