The faint sound of metal scraping against metal echoed quietly in the silence of the night.
On the low table in the commander's office, a rough cloth was spread out. Disassembled assault rifles and pistol parts were scattered all over it. Moore meticulously inspected each piece, using a cloth soaked in oil to polish them. He passed a cleaning rod through the gun barrels, continuing the removal of residues and soot that had accumulated during the day. Perhaps due to the passage of time, remnants of these substances clung to the rifling, highlighting their presence. Normally, cleaning like this should have taken several days.
There are countless ways for individuals to gather their thoughts, but for Moore, this activity was the most calming moment. It was ideal for collecting his thoughts too.
"...Nanomachines in the talkative bastard too..."
The abnormal regenerative ability hinted at the possibility of nanomachines. However, whether NIMPH was influenced remained unclear---
.
.
"...Ugh...!"
His headache worsened. It was annoying that even painkillers were ineffective.
As Moore finished most of the maintenance, he threw the cloth onto the rough cloth. To calm himself, he picked up a soft pack he had left on the table, took out a cigarette, and lit it with an oil lighter.
With a metallic sound, the lid closed.
Exia's brain had sustained damage, albeit temporarily, from the fire she started and the shots from the Triangle. It was assumed that a part of her was damaged. However, NIMPH possessed self-repair functions.
It had worked, and she had revived.
If minor anomalies could be repaired by simply leaving them alone, there was a high possibility that these functions were also installed in talkative chatty bastard too.
Moore casually took out a single pistol bullet from the pocket of his combat pants. This bullet contained an Unchained that could destroy only NIMPH's nanomachines mixed in its warhead.
He considered whether he should shoot this at the talkative chatty guy, but then thought, "...No, it's uncertain. The risk is too high."
It was a precious shot. He couldn't use it leaving by chance.
Putting the bullet back into his pocket, he held two cigarettes between his fingers, removed one from his lips, and tapped the ash into the ashtray.
That wasn't what he should be thinking about, at least not now.
Novel had told him in the data center that there were squads encountering Heretics and surviving. Moore had never expected to have such information, and he was surprised.
At least she lives up to her claim of being a private detective. Moore reconsidered his evaluation of her. He put the cigarette back in his mouth and began assembling the disassembled assault rifles and pistols.
"...Absolute and Metis, huh..."
The former was undoubtedly Elysion's proudest squad. The latter was Misillis' flagship squad. Unfortunately, he didn't know about Metis.
As the disassembled assault rifle gradually took its original form, he crushed the shortened cigarette into the ashtray.
Exhaling the lingering purple smoke in his lungs, he began checking the assembled assault rifle for functionality.
"...If Ark had cooperated, the situation wouldn't have become this complicated, huh..."
Suddenly, Rapi's advice came to his mind.
He sighed deeply as he alternated between the trigger and the lever, inspecting if the hammer and firing pin were functioning properly. Everything seemed fine.
If he could talk to both squads, the resolution to his questions would likely progress significantly. However, both squads were under strict control by Elysion and Misillis.
It wouldn't be easy to talk to them. At least, simply bringing a gift wouldn't earn him the privilege of being served tea.
Rapi's suggestion had its merits.
It proposed having Anderson and Ingrid, the Vice Commander and CEO of Elysion respectively, as their backers. This would not only ensure cooperation but also speed up the resolution of the situation.
However...
"...Sigh..."
A deep sigh escaped him. He gently placed the newly assembled assault rifle on the rough cloth and lit a new cigarette with an oil lighter.
He couldn't trust them entirely.
He would likely be teased for becoming paranoid again after Neon's incident. Their personalities - well, he hadn't interacted with Ingrid enough times to form a definitive opinion, but within a certain range, he didn't find her character disagreeable.
However, that was as far as it went. People's true nature often differed from his initial assessment.
"...Having backers, huh..."
Gaining cooperation and establishing support. Moore didn't oppose these two points.
If it was possible, he should do it.
The primary reason he hadn't considered it was obvious - Rapi's memory wipe hadn't worked.
If they formed a cooperative relationship too hastily, there was a high possibility her incident would be exposed. Moreover, Anderson and Ingrid were people on the management side of Nikke.
"...Well, I'm also part of Nikke's management division."
He remembered that he was one of them, and a faint bitter smile escaped him. However, his expression quickly returned to normal.
Fortunately, both Anderson and Ingrid were favorable towards him and the others. Moore acknowledged that.
However, what shouldn't be misunderstood was that neither he nor she were philanthropists.
Anderson was a military man and held the position of Vice Commander overseeing Nikke's management division. Ingrid, the remarkable woman, was, as everyone knew, the CEO of Elysion.
Both of them wouldn't unconditionally agree to cooperate, let alone become backers.
Particularly Ingrid, she would undoubtedly consider the company's interests.
To get such individuals to support them as backers, something as essential as a price was undoubtedly indispensable.
"...Or perhaps we need to sell something or provide... something."
Options were limited. Moore reached into his pocket while puffing out purple smoke. His fingertips felt the cold touch of metal.
Even that cold, impersonal sensation prompted a thought in his mind.
----
.
.
.
"...In other words... you want both Ingrid and me to be the backing for Captain and the Special Operations Team?"
"Exactly as you say."
The next morning, Moore and the others were in the Vice Commander's office in the Command Headquarters.
Yesterday, Moore had sent a message to Anderson, asking him to attend with Ingrid under the pretext of having important matters to discuss.
Without any deviation from this request, Anderson sat on the reception sofa. Thanks to this, Moore found himself under the direct and penetrating gazes of both Ingrid and Anderson.
The majority of their squad had voiced their approval, leading to this situation. Even at this point, Moore found it difficult to trust Andersen, who sat with his arms folded, and Ingrid, who perched on a chair.
Wearing his military uniform, Moore rested with his cap tucked under his left arm. Behind him, the squad members were lined up in a row.
The proposal for cooperation and the request for backing wasn't solely Moore's opinion; it was the consensus of the squad. Anderson saw this in Moore's eyes.
"...Hmm... Unchained, huh... We've finally arrived at this point."
"In addition to this sudden request, I apologize for the intentional concealment of information... Could you consider it, please?"
Indeed, Anderson began to nod.
He had just told Moore yesterday, "When you obtain information, make sure to share it." Even though he emphasized it, withholding information about the Unchained he had obtained wasn't acceptable.
Despite having stressed it, for this information to be brought up now, while his tongue was practically still wet - Anderson hadn't expected this.
It was a bit - no, quite disappointing.
"...As Elysion Corporation, I don't see any benefit for us in this, do you?"
"...I agree. There doesn't seem to be any benefit."
With that lingering sense of disappointment - of course, as a soldier serving the public, Anderson couldn't overly favor one side, but he also had a certain degree of self-preservation. He aligned himself with Ingrid's words, pursuing profits as a CEO.
"..."
Suddenly, Moore's lips seemed to loosen just slightly.
.
.
.
....Did he smile?
Unable to comprehend, Anderson furrowed his brow in puzzlement.
"...However... it's none other than Captain's request. I'm not heartless enough to brush him off."
"...What do you wish for, then?"
"...A swift resolution to this conversation would be appreciated."
Understanding the need for negotiation, Ingrid, while maintaining her composed demeanor, directed a sharp gaze towards Moore, who remained relaxed.
"Well then... What can you provide?"
"...Information."
"...Information, hmm?"
Not bad, but not enough to pass.
Ingrid, seemingly a bit skeptical, turned her gaze back to Moore, who gave off a wolf-like impression.
"Unfortunately, our information-gathering abilities far surpass what you might imagine, Captain. Even the Unchained you and your team have been struggling to investigate... What's the matter, Captain?"
"...No, please continue..."
Moore's sudden furrowed brow caught Ingrid's attention, but she composed herself and continued.
"If we set our minds to it, we can find out anything at any time. Yet, you're saying you have information that fascinates us, right?"
"...That's odd. It's hard to believe that Elysion, responsible for a part of Nikke's manufacturing, didn't bother investigating the existence of a substance that might jeopardize its performance."
---I see, he's coming from that angle.
Ingrid seemed momentarily cornered by the response. Acknowledging this, Moore attempted to reach into his uniform's chest pocket with his right hand but immediately pulled back.
---
Moore hadn't expected things to progress exactly as he'd planned.
He struggled to keep his lips from unconsciously curling into a smile.
During the previous night, he had simulated the likely reactions of both Anderson and Ingrid and thought about how to respond. So far, his predictions had been almost entirely accurate.
Amidst unfamiliar self-praise passing through his mind, Moore contemplated reaching for the pistol bullet, his trump card, in his uniform pocket.
...No, it won't work.
This approach lacked punch.
Deciding against it, he quickly lowered his hand and clasped it behind his back.
This was a negotiation.
Perhaps this was a chance to prove his worth to them, to showcase his existence and value. Was this a bargaining table to sell himself?
Merely one expendable bullet wouldn't satisfy them. He had a feeling that if Snow White heard this, she'd be furious, but he kept that thought to himself.
This was the decisive moment.
Moore redirected his gaze at Anderson and Ingrid, calming his breathing as the headache subsided.
"I apologize for my lack of clarity earlier. The information I mentioned refers to... my own biological data."
"...!?"
This was an unexpected reaction.
Anderson, his eyes wide with shock, seemed to almost float from his chair. His response didn't align with any of the simulations Moore had run.
"...What's wrong, Anderson?"
"...No, it's nothing. Captain, I don't understand, but... you mean your biological data...?"
"Exactly as it sounds."
"...I'm sorry, Captain. Could you explain a bit more plainly?"
Anderson unconsciously swallowed hard.
As his concern flitted through his mind, he spoke up.
"My biological data... to put it modestly, would be useful for Ark's or humanity's development. Feel free to utilize it as you please."
Those words... Anderson let out a small sigh, tinged with relief. His fears had been groundless, and he felt reassured.
(Tl Notes: Hmm... and now the mystery deepens.)
"Captain's biological data?"
On the other hand, Ingrid furrowed her brows in suspicion. Implicitly, she indicated that Moore should elaborate further.
"...Given Ark's scientific and technological capabilities, creating a clone wouldn't be difficult. Of course, it would require significant resources, and the cost-effectiveness would be lower than Nikke's methods... However, if a replica of myself could be produced, a substantial military force could be organized. I pondered this notion."
A clone of Shaw Moore.
That's what Ingrid anticipated.
She had read about his physical abilities, combat skills, and command capabilities in the data. He was a talent surpassing ordinary commanders and soldiers. Plus, he could effortlessly use anti-Rapture weaponry designed for Nikke.
Such clones could be organized into squads of dozens, battalions of hundreds, or regiments of thousands.
Physical capabilities were a given, even compared to the original. As for mentality... that depended on education.
Still, honestly, it was frightening. But it was reliable too. These conflicting thoughts raced through her mind.
Of course, unlike Nikke, they would still require necessities like food and sleep. But if cooperative operations with Nikke were possible... the prospect of reclaiming the surface seemed closer. At least within the next century, there might be hope.
"...From the standpoint of bioethics, there are problems. It's rejected."
Cloning wouldn't be particularly challenging with Ark's current technology, probably. However, whether it would be accepted is a different matter.
Ingrid voiced her rejection based on common sense, but upon hearing that, Moore openly sneered at her, or rather, scoffed. Well, more like derisivve.
"...Well, well... Quite an unexpected statement from the CEO of a company that performs surgeries on teenage girls to turn them into Nikkes."
Ingrid's brow furrowed in discomfort. It was undoubtedly true, and she wasn't in a position to talk about the ethics of life.
—Then what about you, the commander operating that Nikke?
She nearly blurted it out, but Moore reined in his rising laughter and returned to his usual poker face.
"...I might have overstepped my bounds. I sincerely apologize."
"...No, it's fine."
It was undoubtedly his genuine sentiment, but even so, the Iron Lady couldn't help but replay his earlier sharp words in her mind.
Simultaneously, she found herself unable to refute her own existence.
"...If my biological data isn't an acceptable price... then so be it."
Feeling cornered, Ingrid felt a tinge of disappointment in Moore's words. She had clung to these words, even if they were just words. She wanted to see a bit more courage from him, but—
"—Then let me sell myself."
"...What?"
"The price is myself, as I said. You're free to use me or kill me. Whether you want to chop me up, use me for target practice, or even... give me some dirty work that can't be spoken of. How about that?"
His words were so casual that both Ingrid and Anderson were taken aback.
Frankly, it sounded insane.
Ingrid shifted her gaze to the women standing behind him. They all seemed visibly disturbed, their eyes widening as they focused on Moore's back.
"—Empty threats are—"
"Are you calling this an empty threat?"
Ingrid felt the intensity in Moore's deep brown eyes. It made her feel as if she were facing a wolf.
"I remember you saying you could attract us. This is more than just information. It's something beyond that."
A living human with physical and combat abilities rivaling Nikke's. Moreover, even if his limbs were severed, his will to fight wouldn't waver, and he wouldn't hesitate to engage in combat. More importantly, he didn't have a limiter.
He could easily commit murder, too. If ordered, he would unquestionably carry it out. That was likely impossible for Nikke due to principles.
There was an entity capable of such actions right before her eyes.
—She wanted it. Ingrid found herself thinking that straightforwardly.
"...Hmmm..."
However, she didn't show her surprise and simply responded with deep contemplation.
The response seems favorable.
At least, Moore thought Ingrid could be convinced. As for Anderson, it was still unclear.
"...So, you're saying... you'll become a part of my private army and Ingrid's?"
"You can interpret it that way. However, there's one condition."
"...Go on."
"I won't dismiss the commander positions of the Special Operations Unit and the Counters Squad, as well as the Outpost Base Commander's role. That's the only condition."
This condition was quite reasonable. Anderson found himself contemplating it. Taking advantage of Moore, who possessed abilities on par with Nikke, was a smart move.
It seemed Moore's calculations were right. He felt a surge of self-affirmation.
—With this, I can protect my subordinates somehow.
He was a person who would do anything to protect his own team.
Selling himself was nothing compared to betraying his subordinates, his comrades.
If it meant protecting them, he would sell his soul to the devil.
He didn't believe in an afterlife. But even if it existed, he was probably going to hell anyway.
"...If you could consider this positively..."
.
.
.
.
.
.
"—I cannot be subjected to memory erasure."
......Who said that just now?
Moore distinctly heard the clear voice interrupting him, echoing in the Deputy Commander's office.
His words got stuck in his throat. Instinctively, Moore glanced over his shoulder.
—Why are you saying this?
When he turned around, he saw Rapi, her hands still clasped behind her back, just like him.
Anise and Neon stared at her in astonishment.
"I had a memory wipe before, but I remember everything."
"—Rapi, stand down. You're interfering with our conversation."
While maintaining his composure, he reprimanded Rapi, then turned his face back to the front.
In front of him, Anderson and Ingrid had turned their attention from Moore to Rapi. Both wore expressions of utter shock.
"I'll say it again. I had a memory wipe before, but I remember everything."
"...Shut up... please..."
"—I should have reported it earlier. I take full responsibility."
"—I told you to shut up!! Didn't you hear my order?!!"
Moore's shout reverberated through the Deputy Commander's office.
Quivering shoulders, ragged breaths—Moore, having lost his calm, once again directed his gaze toward Rapi.
His narrowed eyes were sharp. He was glaring at her. But even then, Rapi did not avert her gaze from Anderson and Ingrid.
"...That's absurd..."
"...Do you have any idea what might have caused it?"
"We don't need to concern ourselves with this. It's obviously a lie."
"Yes, Your Excellency, you're absolutely right. Please don't worry about—"
"---I don't remember raising someone like that. —Let me ask again. Do you have any idea what might have caused it?"
Rapi, who had stepped forward, hinted that the cause was unknown but suggested exposure to the Unchained. This revelation would explain why NIMPH was destroyed and why the memory wipe didn't work.
Anderson suddenly glanced at Moore.
His hands were clenched tightly, and his right hand was almost devoid of color due to the strength of his grip. He seemed to be clenching his back teeth too hard. His lips were tightly sealed, and his deep brown eyes were shining brightly.
Only his shoulders were trembling slightly—a clear sign that he was struggling to control immediate impulse.
"If there's a result, you can identify any number of causes. The opposite is true as well. —I was taught that by the instructor."
"—You remember it, don't you?"
"If you promise to cooperate, I'll offer my body. If necessary, you can even open my brain."
As Rapi continued speaking, a dull, crunching sound, as if someone were grinding their back teeth too hard, emanated from Moore. It was a sound like something breaking.
Ingrid, hearing this, stole a quick glance at his profile. Then, she returned her gaze to Rapi.
"—I'll allow a meeting with the Absolute Squad. No, I'll permit a joint operation."
Ingrid, her footsteps rhythmic, walked back toward the sofa where Anderson was seated, aligning with their intentions.
"Go to the location where you had the encounter with the Heretic, and see it for yourself. It's more reliable than just hearing about it."
"...Area H is off-limits."
"You have the authority to allow it."
When Anderson retorted with a bitter remark, the Deputy Commander fell into a thoughtful silence.
"...Understood. I'll allow it."
"Did you hear that? Then depart immediately. I'll send you the coordinates for the rendezvous point later."
Under the gaze of Anderson and Ingrid, Moore, wearing his military cap low to cover his eyes, stood with a deliberately crisp salute.
He nodded calmly, intending to return the salute, but before he could do so, Moore mechanically pivoted and left the room.
"Commander."
As they passed by the group, Rapi called out to Moore. But there was no response.
They followed him after he passed through the open door.
.
.
*BANG!!*
.
.
Watching them leave, Anderson and Ingrid were caught off guard by a loud noise from outside, just one bang, followed by a faint vibration.
It came from right outside the room where the Deputy Commander's secretary was waiting.
"Is something wrong?"
Anderson pressed the button on the hands-free receiver and summoned the secretary, receiving a response tinged with confusion.
"...When Captain Moore was leaving, he punched the wall... There's a slight dent... Shall I send a repair bill...?"
"No, there's no need for that. I'll cover the repair costs from my own pocket."
With a sigh, Anderson conveyed the message to the secretary and then hung up the phone.
"...To trample on a man's resolve like that... It doesn't sit right with me."
"That's an arrogant thought. Know that a man's resolve is nothing compared to a woman's determination."
It was a sharp remark. But when it came from the Lady Commander, it carried an unparalleled persuasive power.
Anderson couldn't help but give a wry smile. Eventually, he settled back into the backrest of the sofa, then, slowly, he spoke.
"How ironic... —That the wolf was about to stake his life, only for the Red Hood to stop him."
-----
"A wolf has to die at the bottom of the well."
The faint sound of metal scraping against metal echoed quietly in the silence of the night.
On the low table in the commander's office, a rough cloth was spread out. Disassembled assault rifles and pistol parts were scattered all over it. Moore meticulously inspected each piece, using a cloth soaked in oil to polish them. He passed a cleaning rod through the gun barrels, continuing the removal of residues and soot that had accumulated during the day. Perhaps due to the passage of time, remnants of these substances clung to the rifling, highlighting their presence. Normally, cleaning like this should have taken several days.
There are countless ways for individuals to gather their thoughts, but for Moore, this activity was the most calming moment. It was ideal for collecting his thoughts too.
"...Nanomachines in the talkative bastard too..."
The abnormal regenerative ability hinted at the possibility of nanomachines. However, whether NIMPH was influenced remained unclear---
.
.
"...Ugh...!"
His headache worsened. It was annoying that even painkillers were ineffective.
As Moore finished most of the maintenance, he threw the cloth onto the rough cloth. To calm himself, he picked up a soft pack he had left on the table, took out a cigarette, and lit it with an oil lighter.
With a metallic sound, the lid closed.
Exia's brain had sustained damage, albeit temporarily, from the fire she started and the shots from the Triangle. It was assumed that a part of her was damaged. However, NIMPH possessed self-repair functions.
It had worked, and she had revived.
If minor anomalies could be repaired by simply leaving them alone, there was a high possibility that these functions were also installed in talkative chatty bastard too.
Moore casually took out a single pistol bullet from the pocket of his combat pants. This bullet contained an Unchained that could destroy only NIMPH's nanomachines mixed in its warhead.
He considered whether he should shoot this at the talkative chatty guy, but then thought, "...No, it's uncertain. The risk is too high."
It was a precious shot. He couldn't use it leaving by chance.
Putting the bullet back into his pocket, he held two cigarettes between his fingers, removed one from his lips, and tapped the ash into the ashtray.
That wasn't what he should be thinking about, at least not now.
Novel had told him in the data center that there were squads encountering Heretics and surviving. Moore had never expected to have such information, and he was surprised.
At least she lives up to her claim of being a private detective. Moore reconsidered his evaluation of her. He put the cigarette back in his mouth and began assembling the disassembled assault rifles and pistols.
"...Absolute and Metis, huh..."
The former was undoubtedly Elysion's proudest squad. The latter was Misillis' flagship squad. Unfortunately, he didn't know about Metis.
As the disassembled assault rifle gradually took its original form, he crushed the shortened cigarette into the ashtray.
Exhaling the lingering purple smoke in his lungs, he began checking the assembled assault rifle for functionality.
"...If Ark had cooperated, the situation wouldn't have become this complicated, huh..."
Suddenly, Rapi's advice came to his mind.
He sighed deeply as he alternated between the trigger and the lever, inspecting if the hammer and firing pin were functioning properly. Everything seemed fine.
If he could talk to both squads, the resolution to his questions would likely progress significantly. However, both squads were under strict control by Elysion and Misillis.
It wouldn't be easy to talk to them. At least, simply bringing a gift wouldn't earn him the privilege of being served tea.
Rapi's suggestion had its merits.
It proposed having Anderson and Ingrid, the Vice Commander and CEO of Elysion respectively, as their backers. This would not only ensure cooperation but also speed up the resolution of the situation.
However...
"...Sigh..."
A deep sigh escaped him. He gently placed the newly assembled assault rifle on the rough cloth and lit a new cigarette with an oil lighter.
He couldn't trust them entirely.
He would likely be teased for becoming paranoid again after Neon's incident. Their personalities - well, he hadn't interacted with Ingrid enough times to form a definitive opinion, but within a certain range, he didn't find her character disagreeable.
However, that was as far as it went. People's true nature often differed from his initial assessment.
"...Having backers, huh..."
Gaining cooperation and establishing support. Moore didn't oppose these two points.
If it was possible, he should do it.
The primary reason he hadn't considered it was obvious - Rapi's memory wipe hadn't worked.
If they formed a cooperative relationship too hastily, there was a high possibility her incident would be exposed. Moreover, Anderson and Ingrid were people on the management side of Nikke.
"...Well, I'm also part of Nikke's management division."
He remembered that he was one of them, and a faint bitter smile escaped him. However, his expression quickly returned to normal.
Fortunately, both Anderson and Ingrid were favorable towards him and the others. Moore acknowledged that.
However, what shouldn't be misunderstood was that neither he nor she were philanthropists.
Anderson was a military man and held the position of Vice Commander overseeing Nikke's management division. Ingrid, the remarkable woman, was, as everyone knew, the CEO of Elysion.
Both of them wouldn't unconditionally agree to cooperate, let alone become backers.
Particularly Ingrid, she would undoubtedly consider the company's interests.
To get such individuals to support them as backers, something as essential as a price was undoubtedly indispensable.
"...Or perhaps we need to sell something or provide... something."
Options were limited. Moore reached into his pocket while puffing out purple smoke. His fingertips felt the cold touch of metal.
Even that cold, impersonal sensation prompted a thought in his mind.
----
.
.
.
"...In other words... you want both Ingrid and me to be the backing for Captain and the Special Operations Team?"
"Exactly as you say."
The next morning, Moore and the others were in the Vice Commander's office in the Command Headquarters.
Yesterday, Moore had sent a message to Anderson, asking him to attend with Ingrid under the pretext of having important matters to discuss.
Without any deviation from this request, Anderson sat on the reception sofa. Thanks to this, Moore found himself under the direct and penetrating gazes of both Ingrid and Anderson.
The majority of their squad had voiced their approval, leading to this situation. Even at this point, Moore found it difficult to trust Andersen, who sat with his arms folded, and Ingrid, who perched on a chair.
Wearing his military uniform, Moore rested with his cap tucked under his left arm. Behind him, the squad members were lined up in a row.
The proposal for cooperation and the request for backing wasn't solely Moore's opinion; it was the consensus of the squad. Anderson saw this in Moore's eyes.
"...Hmm... Unchained, huh... We've finally arrived at this point."
"In addition to this sudden request, I apologize for the intentional concealment of information... Could you consider it, please?"
Indeed, Anderson began to nod.
He had just told Moore yesterday, "When you obtain information, make sure to share it." Even though he emphasized it, withholding information about the Unchained he had obtained wasn't acceptable.
Despite having stressed it, for this information to be brought up now, while his tongue was practically still wet - Anderson hadn't expected this.
It was a bit - no, quite disappointing.
"...As Elysion Corporation, I don't see any benefit for us in this, do you?"
"...I agree. There doesn't seem to be any benefit."
With that lingering sense of disappointment - of course, as a soldier serving the public, Anderson couldn't overly favor one side, but he also had a certain degree of self-preservation. He aligned himself with Ingrid's words, pursuing profits as a CEO.
"..."
Suddenly, Moore's lips seemed to loosen just slightly.
.
.
.
....Did he smile?
Unable to comprehend, Anderson furrowed his brow in puzzlement.
"...However... it's none other than Captain's request. I'm not heartless enough to brush him off."
"...What do you wish for, then?"
"...A swift resolution to this conversation would be appreciated."
Understanding the need for negotiation, Ingrid, while maintaining her composed demeanor, directed a sharp gaze towards Moore, who remained relaxed.
"Well then... What can you provide?"
"...Information."
"...Information, hmm?"
Not bad, but not enough to pass.
Ingrid, seemingly a bit skeptical, turned her gaze back to Moore, who gave off a wolf-like impression.
"Unfortunately, our information-gathering abilities far surpass what you might imagine, Captain. Even the Unchained you and your team have been struggling to investigate... What's the matter, Captain?"
"...No, please continue..."
Moore's sudden furrowed brow caught Ingrid's attention, but she composed herself and continued.
"If we set our minds to it, we can find out anything at any time. Yet, you're saying you have information that fascinates us, right?"
"...That's odd. It's hard to believe that Elysion, responsible for a part of Nikke's manufacturing, didn't bother investigating the existence of a substance that might jeopardize its performance."
---I see, he's coming from that angle.
Ingrid seemed momentarily cornered by the response. Acknowledging this, Moore attempted to reach into his uniform's chest pocket with his right hand but immediately pulled back.
---
Moore hadn't expected things to progress exactly as he'd planned.
He struggled to keep his lips from unconsciously curling into a smile.
During the previous night, he had simulated the likely reactions of both Anderson and Ingrid and thought about how to respond. So far, his predictions had been almost entirely accurate.
Amidst unfamiliar self-praise passing through his mind, Moore contemplated reaching for the pistol bullet, his trump card, in his uniform pocket.
...No, it won't work.
This approach lacked punch.
Deciding against it, he quickly lowered his hand and clasped it behind his back.
This was a negotiation.
Perhaps this was a chance to prove his worth to them, to showcase his existence and value. Was this a bargaining table to sell himself?
Merely one expendable bullet wouldn't satisfy them. He had a feeling that if Snow White heard this, she'd be furious, but he kept that thought to himself.
This was the decisive moment.
Moore redirected his gaze at Anderson and Ingrid, calming his breathing as the headache subsided.
"I apologize for my lack of clarity earlier. The information I mentioned refers to... my own biological data."
"...!?"
This was an unexpected reaction.
Anderson, his eyes wide with shock, seemed to almost float from his chair. His response didn't align with any of the simulations Moore had run.
"...What's wrong, Anderson?"
"...No, it's nothing. Captain, I don't understand, but... you mean your biological data...?"
"Exactly as it sounds."
"...I'm sorry, Captain. Could you explain a bit more plainly?"
Anderson unconsciously swallowed hard.
As his concern flitted through his mind, he spoke up.
"My biological data... to put it modestly, would be useful for Ark's or humanity's development. Feel free to utilize it as you please."
Those words... Anderson let out a small sigh, tinged with relief. His fears had been groundless, and he felt reassured.
(Tl Notes: Hmm... and now the mystery deepens.)
"Captain's biological data?"
On the other hand, Ingrid furrowed her brows in suspicion. Implicitly, she indicated that Moore should elaborate further.
"...Given Ark's scientific and technological capabilities, creating a clone wouldn't be difficult. Of course, it would require significant resources, and the cost-effectiveness would be lower than Nikke's methods... However, if a replica of myself could be produced, a substantial military force could be organized. I pondered this notion."
A clone of Shaw Moore.
That's what Ingrid anticipated.
She had read about his physical abilities, combat skills, and command capabilities in the data. He was a talent surpassing ordinary commanders and soldiers. Plus, he could effortlessly use anti-Rapture weaponry designed for Nikke.
Such clones could be organized into squads of dozens, battalions of hundreds, or regiments of thousands.
Physical capabilities were a given, even compared to the original. As for mentality... that depended on education.
Still, honestly, it was frightening. But it was reliable too. These conflicting thoughts raced through her mind.
Of course, unlike Nikke, they would still require necessities like food and sleep. But if cooperative operations with Nikke were possible... the prospect of reclaiming the surface seemed closer. At least within the next century, there might be hope.
"...From the standpoint of bioethics, there are problems. It's rejected."
Cloning wouldn't be particularly challenging with Ark's current technology, probably. However, whether it would be accepted is a different matter.
Ingrid voiced her rejection based on common sense, but upon hearing that, Moore openly sneered at her, or rather, scoffed. Well, more like derisivve.
"...Well, well... Quite an unexpected statement from the CEO of a company that performs surgeries on teenage girls to turn them into Nikkes."
Ingrid's brow furrowed in discomfort. It was undoubtedly true, and she wasn't in a position to talk about the ethics of life.
—Then what about you, the commander operating that Nikke?
She nearly blurted it out, but Moore reined in his rising laughter and returned to his usual poker face.
"...I might have overstepped my bounds. I sincerely apologize."
"...No, it's fine."
It was undoubtedly his genuine sentiment, but even so, the Iron Lady couldn't help but replay his earlier sharp words in her mind.
Simultaneously, she found herself unable to refute her own existence.
"...If my biological data isn't an acceptable price... then so be it."
Feeling cornered, Ingrid felt a tinge of disappointment in Moore's words. She had clung to these words, even if they were just words. She wanted to see a bit more courage from him, but—
"—Then let me sell myself."
"...What?"
"The price is myself, as I said. You're free to use me or kill me. Whether you want to chop me up, use me for target practice, or even... give me some dirty work that can't be spoken of. How about that?"
His words were so casual that both Ingrid and Anderson were taken aback.
Frankly, it sounded insane.
Ingrid shifted her gaze to the women standing behind him. They all seemed visibly disturbed, their eyes widening as they focused on Moore's back.
"—Empty threats are—"
"Are you calling this an empty threat?"
Ingrid felt the intensity in Moore's deep brown eyes. It made her feel as if she were facing a wolf.
"I remember you saying you could attract us. This is more than just information. It's something beyond that."
A living human with physical and combat abilities rivaling Nikke's. Moreover, even if his limbs were severed, his will to fight wouldn't waver, and he wouldn't hesitate to engage in combat. More importantly, he didn't have a limiter.
He could easily commit murder, too. If ordered, he would unquestionably carry it out. That was likely impossible for Nikke due to principles.
There was an entity capable of such actions right before her eyes.
—She wanted it. Ingrid found herself thinking that straightforwardly.
"...Hmmm..."
However, she didn't show her surprise and simply responded with deep contemplation.
The response seems favorable.
At least, Moore thought Ingrid could be convinced. As for Anderson, it was still unclear.
"...So, you're saying... you'll become a part of my private army and Ingrid's?"
"You can interpret it that way. However, there's one condition."
"...Go on."
"I won't dismiss the commander positions of the Special Operations Unit and the Counters Squad, as well as the Outpost Base Commander's role. That's the only condition."
This condition was quite reasonable. Anderson found himself contemplating it. Taking advantage of Moore, who possessed abilities on par with Nikke, was a smart move.
It seemed Moore's calculations were right. He felt a surge of self-affirmation.
—With this, I can protect my subordinates somehow.
He was a person who would do anything to protect his own team.
Selling himself was nothing compared to betraying his subordinates, his comrades.
If it meant protecting them, he would sell his soul to the devil.
He didn't believe in an afterlife. But even if it existed, he was probably going to hell anyway.
"...If you could consider this positively..."
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"—I cannot be subjected to memory erasure."
......Who said that just now?
Moore distinctly heard the clear voice interrupting him, echoing in the Deputy Commander's office.
His words got stuck in his throat. Instinctively, Moore glanced over his shoulder.
—Why are you saying this?
When he turned around, he saw Rapi, her hands still clasped behind her back, just like him.
Anise and Neon stared at her in astonishment.
"I had a memory wipe before, but I remember everything."
"—Rapi, stand down. You're interfering with our conversation."
While maintaining his composure, he reprimanded Rapi, then turned his face back to the front.
In front of him, Anderson and Ingrid had turned their attention from Moore to Rapi. Both wore expressions of utter shock.
"I'll say it again. I had a memory wipe before, but I remember everything."
"...Shut up... please..."
"—I should have reported it earlier. I take full responsibility."
"—I told you to shut up!! Didn't you hear my order?!!"
Moore's shout reverberated through the Deputy Commander's office.
Quivering shoulders, ragged breaths—Moore, having lost his calm, once again directed his gaze toward Rapi.
His narrowed eyes were sharp. He was glaring at her. But even then, Rapi did not avert her gaze from Anderson and Ingrid.
"...That's absurd..."
"...Do you have any idea what might have caused it?"
"We don't need to concern ourselves with this. It's obviously a lie."
"Yes, Your Excellency, you're absolutely right. Please don't worry about—"
"---I don't remember raising someone like that. —Let me ask again. Do you have any idea what might have caused it?"
Rapi, who had stepped forward, hinted that the cause was unknown but suggested exposure to the Unchained. This revelation would explain why NIMPH was destroyed and why the memory wipe didn't work.
Anderson suddenly glanced at Moore.
His hands were clenched tightly, and his right hand was almost devoid of color due to the strength of his grip. He seemed to be clenching his back teeth too hard. His lips were tightly sealed, and his deep brown eyes were shining brightly.
Only his shoulders were trembling slightly—a clear sign that he was struggling to control immediate impulse.
"If there's a result, you can identify any number of causes. The opposite is true as well. —I was taught that by the instructor."
"—You remember it, don't you?"
"If you promise to cooperate, I'll offer my body. If necessary, you can even open my brain."
As Rapi continued speaking, a dull, crunching sound, as if someone were grinding their back teeth too hard, emanated from Moore. It was a sound like something breaking.
Ingrid, hearing this, stole a quick glance at his profile. Then, she returned her gaze to Rapi.
"—I'll allow a meeting with the Absolute Squad. No, I'll permit a joint operation."
Ingrid, her footsteps rhythmic, walked back toward the sofa where Anderson was seated, aligning with their intentions.
"Go to the location where you had the encounter with the Heretic, and see it for yourself. It's more reliable than just hearing about it."
"...Area H is off-limits."
"You have the authority to allow it."
When Anderson retorted with a bitter remark, the Deputy Commander fell into a thoughtful silence.
"...Understood. I'll allow it."
"Did you hear that? Then depart immediately. I'll send you the coordinates for the rendezvous point later."
Under the gaze of Anderson and Ingrid, Moore, wearing his military cap low to cover his eyes, stood with a deliberately crisp salute.
He nodded calmly, intending to return the salute, but before he could do so, Moore mechanically pivoted and left the room.
"Commander."
As they passed by the group, Rapi called out to Moore. But there was no response.
They followed him after he passed through the open door.
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*BANG!!*
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Watching them leave, Anderson and Ingrid were caught off guard by a loud noise from outside, just one bang, followed by a faint vibration.
It came from right outside the room where the Deputy Commander's secretary was waiting.
"Is something wrong?"
Anderson pressed the button on the hands-free receiver and summoned the secretary, receiving a response tinged with confusion.
"...When Captain Moore was leaving, he punched the wall... There's a slight dent... Shall I send a repair bill...?"
"No, there's no need for that. I'll cover the repair costs from my own pocket."
With a sigh, Anderson conveyed the message to the secretary and then hung up the phone.
"...To trample on a man's resolve like that... It doesn't sit right with me."
"That's an arrogant thought. Know that a man's resolve is nothing compared to a woman's determination."
It was a sharp remark. But when it came from the Lady Commander, it carried an unparalleled persuasive power.
Anderson couldn't help but give a wry smile. Eventually, he settled back into the backrest of the sofa, then, slowly, he spoke.
"How ironic... —That the wolf was about to stake his life, only for the Red Hood to stop him."
-----
"A wolf has to die at the bottom of the well."
