Saiyan stowaways on the Ark

However, the other party demonstrated through their actions that they were not there to cause trouble, and at the same time, they genuinely helped her out of a difficult situation, which is why we are now having a face-to-face conversation.

However, there is still no sign that the matter will be resolved smoothly.

"Logically speaking, your brother shouldn't have the financial resources to command so many mercenaries and sorcerers, not to mention those brand-new experimental devices. That's why I connected him with what I'm investigating."

Tomat held a crudely cut Originium circuit in his hand, which he had "dismantled" with surgical precision from equipment deployed by thugs near the Royal Palace.

"Does it mean 'a certain Columbia company is continuously injecting suspiciously large amounts of funds into Longspring Town'? Indeed, Drucci is the most suspicious person."

After assuming the position of lord, Pigal naturally wanted to learn about some of the cooperation agreements that the old lord had signed in his capacity as king before his death.

If the situation Tomat described really exists, there's no reason why she wouldn't be able to find the relevant information.

Combined with his brother's extravagant use of armed personnel and weaponry, everything became clear.

“You said it yourself, there are rich Originium deposits beneath Longspring Town. I’ve seen firsthand how profit-driven the Columbia capitalists are. Whether it’s a company that approached your brother or your brother who approached the company—destroying this town and mining the Originium beneath it would be a win-win situation for them. Your brother could take revenge and then rightfully succeed as lord, while those merchants could make a fortune.”

A conspiracy with such a compelling motive that it seemed perfectly natural was being laid out.

Both sides in the dialogue share the same goal.

Pigal was to capture his brother, who deserved to die, hang him, and then behead him as a warning to others—regardless of personal or familial grudges, even according to the chieftain's laws, he deserved only this fate.

Thomas needs to finish his own tasks before that.

"While I appreciate your previous support, this is still an internal affair of Longspring Town, or rather, the Sargon region. It's a rebellion between blood relatives. Unless I choose to hire you, you shouldn't get involved in these matters."

Pigal understood the nature of the incident, and despite his fiery temper, he used relatively mild language to emphasize the risks of intervening in internal affairs to Tomat, out of consideration for previous aid.

"It's because you're so stubborn and your brother is shameless enough that you're being suppressed by him. Even though your men are all elite soldiers, they were still suppressed by their numbers and equipment before I arrived."

But Tomat seemed unconcerned by the other party's reminder, and instead, while the guards were still standing guard at the door, she bluntly stated her current unfavorable situation.

"Besides, I came to the chieftain's residence just for convenience and to inquire about the situation. I'm not here to get a permit. If you don't allow it, it has nothing to do with me."

"This is Sargon. I don't care about your personal fighting ability, don't..."

In the past, if someone had spoken to her in such a frivolous tone, and with such disregard for the law, Pigal would have at least given that person a good beating.

But she is still trying her best to suppress the urge to slam her fist on the table and only gives verbal warnings.

"Besides, I'm not here to kill him. I only approached him to 'ask about the situation.' What you do next is none of my business."

"The goals are the same, but the purposes are not conflicting," Thomas emphasized, then looked out the window at the stars that gradually appeared as the night deepened, got up from his seat, and prepared to leave the royal palace.

"I will stay here to continue the investigation. I will let you know if anything happens. I also hope you will not be stingy with information sharing—at least let me know before you hang him. I would be very grateful."

"Walk slowly, don't send."

Dissatisfied yet helpless, even if it helps me, it's just something I do as a favor rather than something I deliberately do to please others.

The hiring that was originally planned has not been successfully implemented.

Pigal saw no reason to convince Tomat to work for him.

A person who walks the world with that kind of strength and attitude might not be tempted even by all the treasures in the old lord's treasury.

After Tomat left, Pigal breathed a sigh of relief. She pondered how to find Druci's trail again and unknowingly fell asleep in the house.

Meanwhile, on the other side, a group of people who had been hiding on the street and sneaking into the Wang Chief's Mansion in the dark had already arrived outside the wall.

[Event] Originium Dust Operation: Chapter Fourteen: The Mine

Most settlements in the Sargon region do not rely on mobile platforms to escape natural disasters, since the most common natural disasters here are just sandstorms that everyone is used to—and large sandstorms that are enough to destroy a city-state have not occurred in this land for a long time.

The same is true of Changquan Town, which has existed in the same location in the Sargon desert for a considerable period of time.

However, the reason why its position has remained unchanged is not only due to the adherence to tradition by successive lords, but also due to the rich Originium deposits beneath it.

Even though mining would bring enormous risks, and even if it led to a large-scale infection and mining was banned, its existence would still be a great asset to the chieftain, and he would not easily give it up.

The mine shaft, weathered by sand and dust for a long time, is still located not far from Changquan Town. Usually, only a very few people guard the entrance, making it an extremely dangerous restricted area for the locals.

But whether due to some oversight or overconfidence in the negligible number of guards, Pigal, the current lord, even though he realized that his brother's return was likely a ploy to collude with the Colombians and covet the mines and the lord's position, still failed to pay the necessary attention to the mines.

Or, to put it in common sense, Pigal did not think that his pampered but twisted brother would allow him to work in a mine with a high risk of infection.

Of course, she might simply be too busy dealing with her own life to attend to anything else.

——Yuanshi Mine in the northern part of Changquan Town——

The cold desert wind howled under the moonlight, and whenever it blew against the entrance of the cave, it made a weeping sound that echoed across the entire desolate land, just like the mournful cries of the miners who had perished here due to mining accidents and who had not received timely rescue.

But amidst this eerie sound, faint whispers of language not native to Sargon could be heard emanating from the mine.

It was not a very fluent Colombian language, and the voice was angrily rebuking him.

"You're the only one who came back from the people we sent out!? What about the Sarkaz? What about those who attacked the royal palace with their new weapons? Where are their weapons? Where is that guy's monster?"

The Rebba man, dressed in a suit and tie, looked out of place compared to the locals. Tall and dark-skinned, the Rebba man stared with bloodshot eyes, and beneath his bourgeois mustache, his incessant mouth was spitting saliva mercilessly in front of another person.

The Rebobarian sorcerer, trembling with fear and wearing only a robe covering a thin layer of light armor, could only suppress the trauma of his past experiences as he clutched his head and said to his arrogant kin:

"I don't know...! Everyone died, everyone was thrown into the air in an instant, weapons exploded, monsters were torn to pieces... Only I escaped from the royal palace. I quit, I want to terminate my contract!"

He rambled on incoherently—but managed to give the audience a general idea that he had been subjected to an unexpected and sudden attack, and was quite frightened.

It's unclear whether what drove him back here was a simple survival instinct to find the main force, or the "spirit of contract" that still lingered even in the face of death.

"Tsk, what other tricks is that stupid sister hiding that I don't know about?" After pondering the warlock's explanation for a moment, the man in the suit and tie, Reboba, spat in the warlock's face and was about to kick him when he yelled, "You fucking wake up! Speak like a human being! What exactly happened?!"

But before he could kick the still-dazed warlock, another tall figure blocked his way, speaking in a low, serious tone in Colombian:

“Boss Drucchi, beating him won’t do any good. He’s practically gone mad with fear. You can’t expect him to say anything. Something’s happened at your father’s house, and the mercenaries who went to the quarantine zone to get ‘materials’ can’t be contacted either. Something must have happened to them. This doesn’t match the information you provided at all. With our armed forces, we can easily deal with everyone except your sister. You’re the one who should be explaining.”

That was another Sarkaz strongman with two horns on his head, and also one of the Sarkaz mercenaries hired by Drucci.

However, the original employment relationship, which was based on receiving money and not asking about anything else, is gradually collapsing due to various changes not mentioned in the contract.

It started with a mysterious armed group that intervened in the conflict during the day, and later it turned into unexpected resistance activities and hidden combat forces.

"Hmph hmph hmph..."

Druci, already filled with resentment and extremely irritable, heard another laugh that made him even more agitated.

"why are you laughing!?"

He cast his venomous gaze toward the direction from which the sound came—a metal structure that seemed out of place in this underground space surrounded by uneven rock walls.

The perfectly round sphere emitted an eerie glow that illuminated the surrounding space, and a dazzling array of equipment, densely packed with buttons and displays, was laid out inside.

All around were glass containers filled with a viscous, semi-transparent liquid, in which many humanoid figures could be clearly seen floating up and down.

The source of the voice, a middle-aged man with gray hair wearing a white robe, was facing away from Druch, watching the various data displayed on the screen with great interest while emitting a sinister and terrifying laugh.

"Laugh? Oh, my dear Mr. Druitch, how could I laugh? My painstakingly created mutants were wiped out by a foolish offensive decision. How could I possibly laugh? Oh, and those mercenaries who probably won't be coming back. I also feel sorry for their wasted lives. Of course, if someone can recover their bodies, I can still make them useful..."

"I advise you not to do anything to their bodies. I will take care of their disposal and burial."

The Sarkaz mercenary warned, but he knew his words would not be heeded by the madman before him.

Meanwhile, Druitch also issued a warning, but he was merely using it for his own benefit, making a routine daily threat against this person he found extremely annoying yet had no choice but to continue cooperating with:

"I'm warning you, stop with the sarcastic remarks. I really don't understand why I gave you so much funding back then. Money, equipment, materials, I gave you everything, and what did you give me in return? A bunch of useless people who are just killing each other without a warlock in command, and those monsters are not as powerful as you promised."

"It needs a short production cycle, strong combat capabilities, a robust physique, and a terrifying appearance—if you want to satisfy all these requirements, I not only don't owe you anything, but you'll actually have to pay me even more. I guarantee the wait will be worthwhile. As long as you continue to let me conduct research, once that complete and perfect life form is born, I guarantee you will find all of this worthwhile."

The gray-haired middle-aged man turned around, revealing a sickly smile, and looked up at the container fixed in the very center of this space.

Inside, a pitch-black sphere covered with the textures of flesh and blood was constantly pulsating.

[Event] Originium Dust Operation: Chapter 15 "Ultimate Life Form"

"However, I still feel a little disappointed. I don't mean that my mutants were wiped out under your stupid command. To be honest, that's not surprising."

The gray-haired middle-aged man was speaking to Dudruch in Sargon, a local language that was clear but not very fluent.

Behind his glasses, his squinting eyes held a mocking and sarcastic smile, meeting Druitch's angry gaze without flinching, repeatedly emphasizing the incompetence of this "sponsor."

"Your repeated mockery only strengthens my desire to withdraw my investment, Levy. I advise you to think twice..."

"But I thought my creation had already amazed you enough, yet some people are still so frightened by other things."

The man, who reeked of a pungent medicinal smell, was unfazed by Druch's response. He simply interrupted him and continued speaking as he walked toward the dazed Reberba sorcerer.

"Tell me, what terrifying thing did you see? Was it an even larger monster, or a powerful warrior wielding what you call Originium Arts?"

The man called Levy completely disregarded the fact that the other person's mental state was far from being able to give a logically sound answer, and went straight to asking.

"I...I don't know! That thing fell from the sky, then exploded, burst into flames, and turned into pieces..."

"My connection with the infected creature has been severed, my brain... my brain feels like it's trembling...!!"

Warlocks generally avoid close combat with enemies, especially those who use drones or infected creatures to launch a siege.

This is one of the reasons why he was able to become a "survivor".

However, the backlash from controlling a large number of infected organisms—which were also the aberrations Levi spoke of—and enduring the instantaneous annihilation of all those he controlled was enough to cause considerable damage to his nervous system.

"Calm down, scholar, don't push him!"

The mercenary, who had already decided to terminate his cooperation with Druitch, shouted at Levi, but received an even colder response in return:

"Force him? He's practically a cripple now. It's better to get some information out of him. Aren't you curious? What killed your men? And what turned the only survivor into this state?"

He ignored the mercenary's warnings, and he also disregarded Druitch's threats.

Levy had no intention of dwelling on the previous losses; he was simply driven by curiosity.

Originium Arts are indeed amazing.

However, the most "powerful Originium Arts" I've ever seen in this remote and impoverished place are nothing more than adding power to weapons and splitting rocks—effects that are negligible in modern industry. They are also far inferior to the communication and detection capabilities of conventional radio or radar, or perhaps they are simply used to make life more convenient.

But now, there seems to be something far more interesting than the Originium Arts that Drucci, this vulgar and down-on-his-luck nobleman in Levi's eyes, is showing him.

This information was far more valuable to him than the half-mad Riboba sorcerer.

"A tail...a tail with short brown fur..."

"...Tail?"

Upon hearing this description from the warlock, the Sarkaz mercenary captain was stunned for a moment.

Although they were mercenaries, they came from a large city-state like Colombia and had seen a lot of things on the market, from cutting-edge new weapons to trivial rumors forgotten in the alleys.