Chapter 260:

Chapter 260:

‘A mirror, huh?’

I picked up the blood-stained mirror shard, watching the spider-like monster’s form appear on the cracked surface before it turned blurry.

The ‘Mimic Organ’, enhanced by the ‘Form Dominator’, was designed to make sure I wouldn’t be caught even by cameras. It emits pheromones and psychic power from micro-holes spread across my body, disrupting the sensors of advanced machinery.

Thanks to that, whenever a camera captures me, it ends up looking like the light's been distorted, resulting in a foggy image. But if needed, the ‘Gremlin Moss’—something I could disperse in a mist-like form thanks to the ‘Great Infector’—could fully disable those cameras.

‘Of course, using it too often would eventually get me caught.’

But that’s a problem I can manage by being careful. What’s more troubling is the mirror itself. I can’t hide how I look when reflected.

‘Still, how often would anyone carry a mirror around?’

The Mimic Organ induces a sense of unease in those around me. It’s only natural—after all, trying to mimic something one-tenth of my actual size, given my over 20-meter body, would raise suspicions.

But the Cyborg I just devoured, Gidequ, felt nothing off about my appearance. The pheromones and psychic power combined to perfectly replicate the image of the ‘green-haired pirate’ he knew.

‘Too bad I can’t mimic objects.’

While the Mimic Organ’s capabilities have improved, it still can’t mimic inanimate objects. During my earlier visit to the slave market before coming to Kesha Arma, I got away with many things, but when pretending to be a pirate, lacking weapons always gave me away.

This time, too, Gidequ realized something was off because I didn’t have a flashlight. Claiming to search for something in the dark without proper equipment would naturally arouse suspicion.

In short, the two primary weaknesses of the enhanced Mimic Organ are: the foggy appearance on cameras and the inability to replicate objects perfectly.

That said, it’s already far better than how it functioned in the game. Expecting it to improve further might be asking too much.

“Well, that was an interesting experiment. And I’m glad you turned out to be useful.”

I licked the blood off the mirror, and the insect-like creature perched on my wing-arm twitched.

Six clawed legs, a body resembling a cross between a mantis and a fly, and two wings on its back. Nothing out of the ordinary for an insect monster—except for one key detail.

“■ ■■■!”

Instead of an insect’s head, a human head was attached, uttering incomprehensible sounds. It bore a striking resemblance to the pirate I’d just devoured.

The Cyborg Gidequ had become a parasitic chimera under my control.

Initially, I’d considered letting him live as a host, but he’d gone and called for backup without my orders.

‘No reason to keep him around then.’

The irony was palpable—he’d taken quick action to save his life, yet that’s precisely what shortened it.

‘It’s about time his comrades arrived.’

I summoned my minions scattered around the area.

‘Guests are coming. Get ready to welcome them.’

My loyal servants, who find happiness only in obeying my will, began hiding within the abandoned buildings to prepare for the ambush.

‘I have five parasites left.’

Those who longed to serve me were already on their way.

“You have a task to complete,” I said.

As the voice of the once-called Jason the Cultist emerged from my throat, the parasitic chimera bowed.

-

“Damn junkies. What kind of mess is this at night?”

“The higher-ups want this dealt with ASAP.”

Ten pirates entered the Dockyard District.

Uncharacteristically well-equipped for outlaws, they wore mid-grade power armor, wielding gauss rifles or psychic rifles. Some even carried psychic shields and medical kits typically used by Cult Warrior squads.

The reason these pirates had such high-quality gear was that the Marcio Cartel had seized weapons left behind by the Cult Empire Army. Using credits earned from selling those weapons, Montana Marcio had bulk-purchased the power armor.

As a result, even common pirates now had access to mid-grade power armor, usually reserved for corporate enforcers or low-ranking officers.

“Where did Gidequ say he was?”

“Just a bit farther.”

“Wasn’t he a cyborg? He should be able to handle a bunch of junkies himself.”

“Don’t you remember what happened to Jonas? He got taken out even in power armor.”

“Tch, that’s just because he was an idiot. If it were me, I would’ve dodged like this when that bastard charged at—”

While exchanging idle chatter, the pirate at the forefront raised his hand, signaling that someone was approaching ahead.

The pirates immediately raised their weapons and scanned their surroundings. Being veterans of pillage and crime, if there was one thing they excelled at, it was combat experience.

In an instant, these pirates transformed into seasoned soldiers, focusing on the shadows cast by the abandoned buildings. Something was lurking there.

It certainly wasn’t Gidequ. After all, that cyborg pirate was just one person, not the group now emerging from the shadows.

“It’s them!”

As if the pirate’s shout were a signal flare, figures hidden in the darkness rushed toward the armored pirates.

The lead pirate pulled the trigger on his gauss rifle. The expensive and immensely destructive tungsten rounds tore through the enemy’s abdomen with ruthless force.

No human could survive with a fist-sized hole in their chest. Thinking he had dealt with the enemy, the pirate prepared to assist his comrades—but that was a mistake.

The junkie, who had staggered from the impact of the tungsten bullet, lunged at him again, still wearing that eerie grin.

“What the hell?!”

The pirate hastily swung his rifle, smashing it into the grinning madman’s face. A sickening sound of flesh being crushed echoed as the assailant fell backward. The pirate fired multiple rounds into the enemy, ensuring he stayed down.

"Crazy bastard. Could you be more specific?!"

The voice was coming from the broken staircase, and all four of them climbed up to the next floor.

"This way! This way!"

"Look over here!"

There was no sign of Gidequ, only his voice echoing around them like some eerie chorus. Intermixed with his words was the faint buzzing of large insect wings.

That’s when the pirates finally realized that something was seriously wrong.

The owner of that voice... it wasn’t Gidequ.

"W-We need to get out of here! Now!"

"What the hell is going on?! This is messed up!"

"H-Hey, why are there only three of us? Where’s the fourth guy?"

"What the hell are you talking abou—huh?"

"S-Shit!"

There were four of them when they climbed the stairs, but now only three remained.

"Why are you all acting weird?"

"I’m right here!"

Gidequ's voice continued to echo through the abandoned building, where no one else but them should have been. And the buzzing sound between the words grew steadily louder.

"Stick together!"

Thick fog, an unknown voice, and a missing comrade. The remaining three suppressed the urge to scream, raising their guns.

They stood back-to-back, their eyes darting around incessantly. Their fingers trembled slightly on the triggers.

As if aware of their wariness, the building fell into an eerie silence.

"I-Is it gone?"

"Get a grip, idiot!"

"It’s still here."

The most timid among them swallowed nervously, and in that instant, the floor beneath them gave way.

They were so tense that they couldn’t even muster a scream as they fell to the floor below.

"Everyone, be careful—!"

The veteran pirate, barely regaining his senses, tried to warn them, but before he could finish, a long, black arm shot out from the mist and snatched him up.

"H-Hiiiick!"

"Uwaaah!"

The two remaining pirates, who witnessed this, screamed in terror, their cries nearly turning into sobs. One of them raised his gauss rifle and began firing wildly into the fog.

The timid pirate, unlike his comrades, chose to flee rather than fight. In a panic, he stumbled out of the building, scrambling on all fours as he dashed through the streets.

"Aaaah... ah?!"

The sound of gunfire abruptly ceased behind him. He knew all too well what that meant.

Using every ounce of strength left in his body, the frightened pirate sprinted through the darkened streets.

Even when he’d faced the underboss of the Marcio Cartel, he hadn’t felt fear like this. After all, that man was something he could comprehend—a source of terror within the limits of his understanding.

But the being lurking within this fog was different. It was an unnamable fear, an unholy, mud-like terror. Faced with such an incomprehensible presence, all he could do was run away, sobbing like a child.

As he continued to flee, he suddenly realized the fog was thinning. In the distance, he saw the boundary sign that marked the entrance to the entertainment district. Just beyond it lay the luxurious pleasure facilities—places where he could find other cartel members to help him.

A glimmer of hope pierced his fear-clouded mind. He took a determined step forward. If only his legs would move.

"...?"

Had fear paralyzed him completely? Confused, he tried to move his legs, but they wouldn’t budge.

At the same time, a warm sensation began to spread inside his ear. He tried to reach up and touch it, but his arm refused to obey. He wanted to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t open.

Completely immobilized, he could only listen as a familiar buzzing sound filled his ears. The creature that had mimicked Gidequ’s voice landed before him.

Cold sweat poured from his entire body as he saw it.

Just moments ago, he thought the terror of the unknown was the true embodiment of fear, but he was wrong. The universe held things far beyond what he could even begin to imagine.

Like the insect standing before him, wearing his comrade Gidequ's head.

"Master, this one has connections with the life support system’s administrator", the creature spoke in Gidequ's voice.

Then, a rifle fell from above, landing on the ground with a dull thud that echoed like thunder in his ears.

It was the gauss rifle his fellow pirate had used to fight off the monster.

And he could feel it—the sickening, warm breath on the back of his neck. Even paralyzed, his senses remained painfully sharp, allowing him to recognize the strong scent of blood mixed within that breath.

"You seem to have your uses."

The voice that followed was that of a man, calm and almost gentle.

But the timid pirate couldn’t find any comfort in it.

He didn’t know what awaited him next.

Yet he could imagine, even with his meager imagination, that what was about to happen to him would be something beyond the limits of horror—a nightmare so terrible that even the word "horrific" would be an understatement.