Ultraman Legend of the Light Chaser

Dahti said, "Those who live in the deep sea also paid with their lives in the war against the evil god. If Lord Samuel were here, he would go to even more distant places to gather resources, no matter how much effort it would take."

"They saved you before, have you forgotten?" Daheti slowly recounted, "When the evil god returned, Lord Samuel was seriously injured and fell into the sea. It was they who brought you back to shore while you were unconscious."

“But I need to conserve my power,” Muchini said. “In case our ship encounters danger, you know there are many monsters in the universe that are no less powerful than the minions of evil gods.”

"What is the purpose of power? We can discuss things with them, and they can be mobilized to find resources. You always treat them as heretics, but they see you as a hero of Vitamori." Daheti gently stroked the Light Chaser's Medal, which had turned to stone. In the chaos of a few days ago, it must have been stained with the blood of countless deep-sea races.

Muchini gripped the "stone" tightly, pulled it back from Dahti's hand, and put it back in his pocket: "You want me to sacrifice 'Vitamori' to care for the lives of infidels?"

Daheti looked at him with a complicated expression. Her eyes, which always smiled when she picked up shells on the beach, were filled with sadness: "Vitamori is gone. Its ocean is about to disappear. Don't you understand? The gods have not favored us, or rather... the only 'god' who was once by our side has left. We are no longer clearly separated from the deep-sea race. On this journey, we are all drifters."

"Although they are different from the gods we worship, they revere you just the same. One lives in the deep sea, the other on land. We don't actually have a conflict of interest, as long as we find a new home—sometimes I think, everyone is here, let's go..."

Occasionally, you can hear their singing at sea…that’s the complete Vitamori.

Muchini turned away angrily and said she was not a devout believer.

Dahti, on the other hand, said he was a loyal "god."

Muchini couldn't understand why the loyal "son of God," who had followed his unwavering faith to protect and resurrect Vitamori, had turned into a "monster."

She's not even as good as that powerless human woman named Sakuma Sakura?

The Lightbringer's Medal doesn't acknowledge him, Daheti doesn't understand him, and even Lord Samuel doesn't respond to him; this is worse than reliving the "nightmare."

He returned to the abandoned shrine's stronghold like a puppet, sat cross-legged on the cliff top, and watched the dawn break.

The black robe enveloped him, blocking out all light. He squinted, pulled the hood back up, and then tugged it hard, plunging his entire face into shadow.

"Lord Samuel cannot abandon Muchini." He firmly believed this, just as he firmly believed that Vitamori's faith was inviolable.

But why is Lord Samuel still on the Earthlings' side?

"Being 'bewitched' is just an excuse you made for him," the "Lord's" voice rang out, pointing out to the lost cultivator: "This is another world. Things that look similar are not the same as your world."

“You mean…” Like a drowning man grasping at a straw, the “wooden man” sitting listlessly on the cliff top suddenly came to life once he was awakened: “Yes, this is not my world, not the world where Lord Samuel is!”

"How could Lord Samuel not respond to me? This Lord Samuel... no matter how similar he may be, it can't be him!"

Muchini felt much lighter, and his mind, which had been sluggish due to confusion, became active again: "Lord Samuel is dead, so what's here is obviously fake! It's just a misleading counterpart. This must be a test for me. As long as I see through the illusion, I can be even more determined to resurrect Vitamori!"

The Lord was pleased with the believer's awakening and said, "Now that you understand, go and bring back Dark Mephistopheles."

The man in black robes stood up; he moved swiftly and regained his precise execution.

“Defeated by a dying compatible and a night raiding squad, what a useless ‘puppet,’” the “master” sighed. “It will soon fall into human hands.”

"That's really terrible." Muchini closed his eyes, opened his senses, confirmed a direction, and then disappeared from the top of the cliff.

……

On the other side, upon receiving the search order from the CIC, the "white-clad cleaners" entered the mountains in small groups after confirming the target area and completing their operations.

Like termites searching for food, they carried instruments and carefully explored every place they went, not letting go of even the slightest remnant of the alien beast.

Of course, the most suitable candidate is the one who is best positioned as the primary target.

According to the report from Team A of the Night Raid, they had gone through a fierce battle, which seemed to be a great opportunity to capture the suitable candidate and study the source of their power.

The Night Raid's Chrome Chester was damaged and unable to fly back to base independently, awaiting support from the maintenance crew. They called for the medical team. Saijo Nagi and Komon Kazuki were injured in the battle; when the canopy was sheared off by Mephisto, the molten skeleton slammed into their helmets, but fortunately, they weren't directly hit.

In this way, the search could not rely on the support of the night raid team that was near the target location, so CIC let He Cang Yingfu lead the exhausted team members to rest on the spot.

Shiori Hiraki, huddled with Deva, used a tree root as a pillow in a contorted position. Mitsuhiko Ishibori, having asked for leave, also fell asleep with his head down. Eiji Wakura could only keep his eyes open to check on Nagi Saijo and Kazuki Komon's condition, hoping for support from the rear.

Jun Sakuma lay on the ground, which had been melted and left bare.

Jun Himeya no longer had the strength to lift the Shockwave Gun. Just taking it out of his pocket took him almost until dawn, and before he could fire it, he passed out again.

A man dressed in a black suit, but carrying a shovel that seemed completely out of place, walked up to the unconscious Jun Sakuma.

Before the "white-clad cleaner" arrived, no one knew how he had entered the mountains and forests and appeared here so accurately, as if guided by a navigation system.

“Senior, if you keep being so careless, I won’t be able to help you anymore.” The man in the black suit said rudely, dragging him from the bare ground into the woods like a sack of potatoes, stuffing a small device and a note into his pocket, and then picking up a shovel to start digging.

He dug the hole very quickly, clearly a highly professional civil engineer. After pushing his dead-looking senior into the hole, he immediately backfilled it, even carefully leaving a breathing hole.

While complaining that "we're always fighting in the deep mountains and forests where cars can't even get here," they acted extremely quickly. After burying one, they would sprinkle some topsoil, stomp on it a few times, cover it with grass, and then rush to deal with the next one.

When the white-clad cleaners arrived at the battlefield, they found only an open field devoid of any human hair.

The data in the search instrument was completely silent; not a single vibration wave from the alien beast could be detected.

Chapter Sixty-Six: The Link of Transmission

When Jun Sakuma woke up, it was still "night" before his eyes.

He felt as if he were in a sealed box, and every movement of his hands and feet encountered tremendous resistance.

More importantly... he had barely opened his eyes a crack when he found himself covered by something. When he tried to open his mouth, something like sand or dirt immediately crawled into it, leaving him with a mouthful of mud.

micro-

The wonderfully burnt, rotten smell is heavenly to my taste buds. I can't spit it out, or I'll get it all over my face. Breathing is a little difficult but not a problem; there seems to be a tiny gap under my nose.

"Damn it, am I buried alive?" The thought flashed through his mind, and Jun Sakuma began to dig at the loose soil around him.

Did the "white-coated strainer" already do some research on itself and decide it was non-recyclable waste, so it simply returned to nature by being buried? It couldn't even afford to roll up a straw mat; what a piece of trash.

He struggled until he was covered in sweat, finally managing to get himself out, only to find his eyes covered with overlapping plastic wrap. The person who buried him was quite meticulous, afraid that sand would get into his eyes if he woke up? Was wrapping his face with plastic wrap really not the next step to chop him up and put him in the microwave? He sat half-reclined in the pit, blankly spitting out a short twig.

Ah…the familiar deep mountains and forests. I can feel my muscles, sore from the trail running, screaming warnings.

"Gululu..."

A familiar feeling of hunger.

He touched his stomach, not having time to feel sorry for his clothes, when he suddenly realized there was something extra in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, it was a small, black, cube-shaped device, quite sophisticated, with a crumpled piece of paper inside. He didn't remember having a habit of putting scrap paper in his pocket. He casually opened it, and after reading only a couple of lines, his hands started shaking like he had Parkinson's.

"Senior, don't throw away the little black cube. It's something that can mask bio-waves, such as the vibration waves of alien beasts or thermal infrared rays." The first line reads like this. Judging from the address and handwriting... it's undoubtedly Shintaro Hirata.

He could almost see his juniors smiling and waving documents filled with writing at him.

“You guys will probably have to sleep for a day or two. The ‘white-coated sieve’ has probably missed us again. I’ll bury the other one too. If you didn’t see him, you’ll have to search everywhere.”

What the hell? Who did you bury?

"If you don't have the strength, you might starve to death. There's nothing I can do about it; I'm too far away to help. I can only wish you good luck and hope you can see this note."

I'm starving right now. You know how to shove some high-tech stuff in here, but you don't even know how to slip some chocolates to the old folks?

"Oh, right, remember to prepare a self-criticism when you get back. My explanation is that we went to an izakaya and got you drunk, the owner's secret aged liquor! You said you missed your wife, so we reminisced about your youth, which turned into a nostalgic singing session about college life. You danced with the owner's head in your arms and threw up all over him. The owner thought it was dangerous for you to go back, so he let you stay. Whether you do the laundry or sleep until the next day is up to you. Make sure you rehearse your story carefully, Commander Shudo is very meticulous."

A towering question mark slowly appeared in Jun Sakuma's mind.

"Keep it up, senior! Whether it's fighting alien beasts or writing news, you're the best!"

“（￣▽￣）／”

Finally, there's that charming little tilde; I wonder who he consulted for that.

Jun Sakuma never expected that, after being a savage in the deep mountains last time, he would have to dig out his savage teammates before he could become a savage again.

But where is he buried? Himeya Jun, did you hear me? Tap the burial cover.

Where did Shintaro learn to bury people alive?!

……

The Third Base includes the Memory Police Office Building.

Shuto Saya quietly scrutinized the trembling young man before her with a critical gaze.

"sorry!"

With a standard 90-degree bow, legs ramrod straight, and a high level of proficiency, the bow is sincere and the pronunciation is clear; the bower is a true "I'm sorry" machine.

"I got along so well with Jun-senpai that we drank a bit too much. I got a little tipsy myself, and he's probably still not awake..." Shintaro Hirata stared at his toes, having mastered the art of lying through his teeth: "The izakaya owner brought me his secret-recipe daiginjo, and to be honest, it's got quite a kick."

He glanced up slightly at his superior, then immediately lowered his head again: "You can check the spending records, Senior Chun really didn't skip work on purpose!"

"Self-criticism".

Upon hearing this, Shintaro Hirata secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Only when Saya Shuto asked them to submit their self-criticisms did he realize that he truly believed their explanation.

"Still two thousand words?" The young man couldn't contain his joy. He grinned and looked up, only to meet Shudo Saya's gloomy face. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt his facial muscles suddenly stiffen.

“Trillion,” Shuto Saya tossed him the izakaya bill she had already retrieved, which clearly showed Hirata Shintaro’s credit card transaction history. “If I find out you’re drinking on weekdays again, you’re packing your bags and going home! You know we’ve lost track of Negi Jinzo? And there are a huge increase in mission targets waiting for us!”

Shintaro Hirata saw the receipt smeared on his shoes, but he didn't dare to move it. He just kept bowing and apologizing.

“Erase your memories and leave, or work hard, the choice is yours,” Shuto Saya snapped. “If you’re dissatisfied with this job, submit your resignation and I can approve it immediately.”

"I've only been here a short time, how could I be dissatisfied!" Shintaro Hirata felt a pain in his lower back from bowing for too long: "To be honest, it's because Jun-senpai was missing his wife again, so we drank a little longer... We didn't intend to get ourselves drunk!"

“That would be best,” Shudo Saya turned her gaze back to the notebook in front of her. “Go back and call Misawa.”

The young employee, having weathered the storm, quickly retreated to call for the next unlucky soul.

Hiroyuki Misawa was still lost in the pile of files, completely unaware that his superior was looking for him.

……

When Jun Himeya is awake, it is also nighttime—in the true sense of the word.

Jun Sakuma dug himself