Became an Evolving Space Monster

Chapter 262:



Chapter 262:

-

Kadun was once a slave.

It’s not all that unusual. Most wolves live as slaves.

Men are turned into combat slaves, women into sex slaves. If they're unlucky, they end up as test subjects for Megacorps or Star Unions, spending their final days in a laboratory.

The only semblance of a better life for a wolf is becoming a space pirate.

What crimes had they committed to deserve such suffering? When young Kadun cried out to his tribe's chieftain, the chieftain replied.

They were once gods who ruled planets, but due to their arrogance and violence, they fought among themselves. After an eternal struggle, the wolves lost their divine power and fell into ruin. Now, their descendants pay the price for their ancestors' sins.

It didn’t take long for Kadun to realize that the chieftain's tale was nonsense.

The chieftain was already dead, and the tribe was scattered across the stars. They were all wrong.

The reason wolves are oppressed is simple. They are weaker than the Cult.

The laws of nature are merciless. Just as predators devour prey without moral scrutiny, it’s only natural for the powerful Cult to trample upon the weak wolves.

To avoid being crushed by the strong, one must become strong oneself. Wandering from one arena to the next, soaking his hands in blood, Kadun became stronger than any other wolf.

The only one who recognized his potential was Montana Marcio, a different kind of strong figure from the Cult. He spared no effort in nurturing Kadun’s growth.

Kadun, too, recognized that serving Montana was in his best interest, so he submitted to him.

It's been ten years since Kadun became the sub-boss of the Marcio Cartel. He even obtained the 'Flesh of the God' that the chieftain once spoke of.

Despite gaining immense power, Kadun felt nothing. To him, the myths of the wolves no longer mattered.

Just as the Cult follows Providence, Kadun worshiped the law of the jungle.

And so, today, he was about to train in his personal arena within the command center—until one of his subordinates burst in.

“There’s fog in the inactive zone?”

“Yes! A patrolling pirate recorded it!”

The tense subordinate handed him a device. As Kadun pressed the button, the recorded footage began playing.

“That’s the Cultists’ religious zone. The life-support manager reported no issues?”

“They said it’s not a mechanical problem. Someone spread it intentionally.”

“Intentionally, huh? Any analysis results?”

“The engineers are gathering to investigate.”

Fog spreading within a sector was a serious matter, but it wasn't something Kadun needed to handle personally. It was more of a technical issue, best left to the engineers.

His subordinate surely knew that, which meant there was another reason he came to Kadun.

“W-Well, it seems there’s a connection between this fog and the drug addicts. Before they died, they spoke of a spider in the mist.”

“A spider in the mist?”

Kadun reviewed the footage again.

He couldn’t see clearly what was within the fog, but something felt off—unnatural, as if it were hiding something.

‘A fog that drives people insane, controlled by a creature.’

A few possible candidates came to mind: the "Angel Spider", which ensnares prey with psychic webs, or the "Red Mist", a beast that emits hallucinogenic pheromones to incapacitate its victims. As the sub-boss of the Marcio Cartel, which brokers pirate transactions, Kadun had encountered many rare creatures.

“Bring me the ones who recorded this footage.”

“W-Well, they’ve started showing symptoms similar to the addicts…”

Kadun didn't know exactly what kind of creature this was, but it was clearly not a trivial threat. No wonder his subordinate had sought him out.

‘What bastard left this thing here?’

Not all pirates who visit the fortress succeed in their smuggling operations. When deals fall through, some pirates abandon rare creatures in the inactive zones to avoid transport fees.

Kadun assumed this incident was another one of those cases.

The problem was that this time, the damage was far worse.

“Grrr, if we’re going to catch this thing, I’d better be there. Prepare everyone who’ll join me.”

“Understood!”

“Before we go in, release gas into the area. Even if it doesn’t kill it, it should weaken it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kadun decided that today’s training would be capturing that creature.

-

"The bait’s been taken."

An hour ago, I received a signal from the parasite linked to my consciousness. Five of my minions sent to lure the enemy—our connection had been severed.

"They must be getting ready by now."

After gathering my forces in the religious zone, I cast the bait to draw out the sub-boss.

The bait was the hint that I might be the source of the virus spreading through this fortress.

Over the past few days, many have lost their sanity because of me. Aside from the few directly controlled by parasites, the rest have been driven mad by the 'Messenger of Mass Confusion'.

Among them, some host a psychic parasite known as the "Madness Bomb". When a host infected with the Madness Bomb dies, it spreads to those nearby, much like how dandelion seeds scatter in the wind.

By now, even the pirates know it isn’t just drugs causing this madness. The problem is they have no idea why it’s happening.

If they let their doctors investigate, they’d eventually discover the cause. But instead, they chose a different path: burning anyone showing abnormal symptoms.

It might seem ignorant, but their decision wasn’t without reason. In any cartel, doctors are rare and valuable in the spaceports. If a doctor were to be infected with an unknown virus, the loss would be tremendous.

The Marcio Cartel, at least, is wealthy enough to base themselves on a space fortress, so they likely have plenty of doctors and researchers. However, timing is the issue. They're preparing for a massive auction, with many distinguished guests arriving soon. Losing a doctor now would be catastrophic.

‘Losing a few hundred underlings is preferable to losing even one doctor.’

In a place where the lives of crew members are as insignificant as flies, it’s a rational choice.

Of course, this method is only a temporary fix. The best solution is to eliminate the root cause.

So, what would happen if someone suspicious like me, shrouded in fog, showed up? Especially if those who captured my image started displaying abnormal symptoms? They would undoubtedly see me as the source of the contamination.

‘A mere performance, though.’

The fog is simply an enhanced effect of Gremlin Moss, and the madness among the people is caused by the Messenger of Mass Confusion and enhanced parasite effects.

They wouldn’t know they’re being deceived. And even if they did, by that time, the fortress would already be on the brink of collapse.

‘Hm?’

As I waited for them to arrive, I suddenly caught an unusual scent.

I lifted my head, still crouched in a half-ruined church. The Auxiliary Organs under my chin quickly detected the changes in the environment.

‘So that’s how they want to play it?’

Toxic gas had mixed with the air. They must be trying to weaken me by dispersing it into the area before moving in.

‘Not that it’ll do them any good.’

Unless it’s as lethal as the swamps on that Cult holy planet we visited before, it won’t cause us any real harm.

‘Number 26 can withstand this much, and Adhai has grown stronger, so she won’t be affected.’

PS-111, being a machine lifeform, is naturally immune. The only one who might be slightly affected is the Mother of the Sky.

I extended the tentacle of the hidden creature and sent a pulse to her.

[ZZZ ZZZZ ZZ ZZZ (They're deploying toxic gas.)]

「Don’t worry. I’ve already transformed.」

“Large amounts of chemicals have been detected in the air. The ‘Middle One’ should exercise caution.”

「…It would’ve been nice if you hadn’t called me ‘Middle One.’」

「What’s wrong?」

「The sky is wriggling. It's strange.」

「Wriggling?」 「I don't understand.」

「I need to gather the wriggling parts.」

「I can't see you.」 「Where are you?」

"A Gallagon cannot visually detect the flow of gas."

Everyone was hiding in their own way, spread out in different locations. Although the entire area was filled with toxic gas, none of them seemed to be in pain.

"They thought they were being clever, but…"

Unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong opponent.

I listened to the chatter of my companions, waiting for our enemies to arrive.

About an hour later, the toxic gas that had spread throughout the area began to thin. It seemed they were getting ready to move in.

Before long, I felt faint vibrations in the air. Three patrol ships loaded with pirates were approaching from above.

"They’ve arrived."

The pirates on board were equipped with mid-grade exosuits, psychic rifles, and Gauss rifles. On top of that, the sub-boss, a mere wolf, was even wearing a high-grade exosuit.

"Pretty impressive specs for pirates."

Not even Muriel's underlings were this well-armed. It’s fitting for pirates who manage an orbital habitat.

"The problem is, I’ve read them like a book."

I still had three minions who hadn’t been discovered. Each of them was aboard one of the patrol ships, feeding me information.

The pirates thought that the five who had served as bait were all there was. They had no idea that three of my spies were among them.

"Alright, time to begin."

I organized the gathered intel and sent out pulses to my companions. We’d fought together dozens of times, and they understood my signals instantly, moving into action.

Following their lead, I crawled out from the church. My massive winged arms crushed the cult's symbols beneath me.

"The distance to them is 1 km."

One of the patrol ships was attempting to land in the plaza just a kilometer away. At my movement speed, that’s hardly a distant target.

I moved my winged and combat arms in sync, charging toward their position.

Alloy structures blocked my path, but my body pierced through them effortlessly. As I tore through the buildings, the pirates' ship came into view.

With just a few dozen meters left before the patrol ship landed, I revealed the parasitic tendrils hidden on my back.

Six colossal tendrils shot toward the ship, resembling a mythical serpent. The patrol ship's turrets quickly adjusted, caught off guard by the unexpected attack.

But that was the wrong move. They should have tried evasive maneuvers to avoid my tendrils.

My tendrils wrapped around the rear of the patrol ship. The vessel shook violently, and its gunfire went completely off target.

Having seized the ship, I pulled it toward me with my tendrils. Realizing they were in a dire situation, the pirates opened the rear hatch. With their mid-grade exosuits, they could survive a drop from several dozen meters.

Another wrong move. My parasitic tendrils were gripping the rear, and some tendrils lashed out, snatching the pirates in mid-air.

"Watch out!"

"Goddamn it!"

"Aahhhh!"

Unfortunately, my tendrils couldn’t capture them all. Only four pirates were devoured, while the rest managed to land safely.

"It’s not over yet."

"Everyone, scatter!"

"Crazy monster bird… huh?!"

"The ship’s falling! Get out of the way!"

I slammed the patrol ship I had gripped with my tendrils down on top of them.

An explosion, the smell of gunpowder, and the scent of blood.

Elements familiar to the Amorph announced the beginning of the hunt.


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