Ch.256Cursed Vessel (1)

In the past, there were sentient beings who ventured into space before humanity.

Though physically frail, they were a race blessed by gods with special powers.

Following the guidance of the divine “Providence,” they ventured into space and called themselves “Cult.”

At first, they could barely travel between satellites, as divine protection didn’t extend to space exploration.

But the Cult didn’t give up. Not relying solely on their innate psychic powers, they focused on technological development.

Satellite travel led to colonizing other planets and exploring their own star system. These sentient beings, born on a small planet, eventually established a vast empire spanning multiple star systems.

Of course, this was merely a fleeting moment by cosmic standards. Many civilizations had risen and fallen before them, and they would be no different.

The Cult Empire’s prosperity didn’t last long. Internal strife, corruption among rulers, and endless wars drastically shortened the empire’s lifespan. As a result, it has now declined to less than half its former glory.

The Kesha Arma space fortress was one of the shadows left by the once-glorious empire.

Translated into Megacorp language, this space fortress named “Wealthy King” was established to protect a mining planet.

During the empire’s prosperous era, countless mining vessels used this fortress. True to its name, it was a place where the empire’s wealth concentrated.

Had the planet’s minerals not been depleted, it would still be that way today.

After the planet’s resources were exhausted, Kesha Arma’s importance plummeted. Unlike in the past, the gradually collapsing empire couldn’t afford to maintain a space fortress that only generated losses. A place that was a strategic imperial location just 100 years ago had now become a complete burden.

When maintenance costs far exceeded profits, the empire’s choice was simple: abandon the fortress.

With the withdrawal of all stationed Cult warships, Kesha Arma became unclaimed territory. It remained administratively part of the Cult Empire, but without administrators or military presence.

Only those who had made their living serving miners and vagrants needing shelter remained. A city without owners inevitably becoming a slum was unavoidable.

Thus, Kesha Arma became one of the abysses of space.

Those who occupied the fallen Wealthy King were the Martio Cartel.

A cartel powerful enough to rank among the top five throughout all Space Dogs.

Generally, Space Dog cartels avoid settling on planets or space cities, as they have many enemies and never know when extermination forces might arrive. Instead, they focus more on arming their cartel ships.

In contrast, the Martio Cartel bosses chose a completely different approach.

They earned credits by “facilitating” other pirates’ crimes. Setting up black markets for smugglers, or connecting cartels specializing in human trafficking with high-ranking Megacorp officials, and so on.

Just as they once made money mediating between mining planets and excavation ships, they now profited by mediating between pirates and crime.

Paradoxically, this approach allowed both Kesha Arma and the Martio Cartel to survive. Even Megacorps and the Star Union, who grind their teeth at Space Dogs, were their clients.

A lawless zone tolerated by the cosmic powers – that was today’s Kesha Arma.

And today, as always, crime runs rampant throughout the pirate fortress.

“Fuck! Smash his head! His head!”

“You, I’m counting on you! I bet all my credits on you!”

“Aaaaargh! You fucking bitch! Why are you cutting off his arm there?!”

A place once known as the Fifth Armory.

Where all kinds of weapons were once stationed was now filled with an angry crowd.

Humans, cyborgs, Volfs, Coldbloods. Sentient beings raised in different cultures all shouted while focusing on just one thing.

Where their gazes were directed, two naked men were fighting inside an iron cage.

Their appearances, skin colors, and weapons differed, but they had two things in common. Both wore heavy restraints around their necks, and their entire bodies were covered in blood.

This was an arena run by pirates. One of the city’s common abysses.

“Yeah! Just a little more effort! You piece of shit, you can do it!”

“Wh-what?! Why is that bastard doing that? Aaaah! Fuck!”

“Woooooah! He won! He won!”

“Uwaaaaah! My credits! Aaaaargh!”

The brutal bloodbath ended with the axe-wielder beheading the spear-wielder.

The contrasting emotions of life and death weren’t confined to the cage. The arena crowd also shuddered with feelings of joy and despair.

Gidcue, a cyborg who recently joined the Martio Cartel, was among those cheering.

“Hehe, how much is this?”

He rarely bet against the odds, but he never expected such a jackpot.

Gidcue plugged his terminal into the settlement machine placed in the arena. Seeing two zeros instantly added to his credits, his lips curled up involuntarily.

“Wow. Fucking against the odds.”

“…So damn envious.”

The surrounding gazes were far from friendly, but no one dared to confront him. Everyone knew he was a member of the Martio Cartel.

Enjoying the mixed gazes of hatred and envy, he left the arena.

What greeted the cyborg, who had replaced half his body with machinery, was light so intense it hurt the eyes.

An artificial light show from neon signs of entertainment establishments. Red, blue, yellow, green – all kinds of lights filled the streets.

The buildings were as chaotically mixed as the billboards. Some reflected strong traditional Cult architecture, while others were flimsy structures built by incoming outsiders.

In front of shops that looked like they might collapse at any moment, all sorts of figures roamed – pirates, vagrants, slaves, mercenaries.

In this slum-like place where nothing was unified, if you wanted to feel a fragment of the past, you just needed to look up.

Above their heads, “another ground” looked down on them.

Kesha Arma is a space fortress moving along a planetary orbit. Beyond the transparent outer wall, the abandoned mining planet gazes down at the fortress residents. Wherever you go, you can observe the desolate star.

Despite facing the pinnacle of Cult civilization, Gidcue felt nothing. Not only had he seen it countless times, but the credits displayed on his terminal were more important to him.

“Maybe I’ll get a drink.”

Having enjoyed enough entertainment, it was time to oil his stomach. He headed to a bar he frequented.

Entering the establishment, he found others like him passing time by downing synthetic alcohol.

“Synthetic alcohol all around this table.”

Gidcue naturally joined their table. The other pirates looked at him with surprise.

“Oh, what brings Tin Can here?”

“That bastard, always broke, must have hit a reverse bet jackpot.”

Glasses were exchanged several times. The pirates, including Gidcue, quickly became drunk.

“Tin Can, let me ask you one thing. Is it true that in the Star Union, they don’t even let you masturbate alone?”

“Yeah. It’s illegal because of population control policy or production policy or something. They do regular memory checks every year, and if you get caught…”

When Gidcue made a scissor shape with his index and middle fingers, the other pirates grimaced.

“Oh shit, that’s probably the scariest thing I’ve heard so far.”

“Can’t have sex freely, can’t jerk off. Living in such a country for decades is terrifying in itself. Fuck.”

“Speaking of scary stories, have you heard the recent rumor? About the Satua Cartel.”

“Satua? Those lunatics? What about them?”

“My friend knows some guys from the Satua Cartel, and he says all contact with them has been completely cut off for two months.”

“Ugh, shit. I’m more shocked that you know those Satua bastards. Get away from me right now.”

The other pirates jeered at the fox Volf pirate who claimed to know the Satua Cartel. Then a human pirate with a scar over his eye joined the conversation.

“I heard a similar story.”

“What?”

“They say the Satua Cartel’s slave market disappeared without a trace. I heard the cartel itself was annihilated because of it.”

Gidcue was slightly surprised by the human pirate’s words.

The Satua Cartel was quite infamous. Their main business was capturing and selling primitives from unexplored planets. They were powerful enough to maintain a large slave market on an unclaimed planet.

“I don’t care whether those Satua bastards are fucked or whatever, but there have been many unsettling things lately.”

“Right. The T&C Special Trade Center collapsed, so there’s nowhere to play.”

“You crazy bastard, that place collapsed ages ago and you’re still whining?”

“These days, they say Outspacers are rampant again.”

“Thanks to that, my income has been juicy lately. There are tons of people looking for mercenaries.”

“You idiot, you talk shit because you haven’t fought those bugs?”

“Are Outspacers tasty?”

“Your mom probably tastes better.”

“Tsk. Is the universe really going to shit?”

The scarred pirate’s quiet remark made the table atmosphere strange.

As pirates who travel dozens or hundreds of star systems daily, they’re quicker than most to notice changes in the universe.

The scarred pirate was right. The universe was becoming more chaotic than ever before.

Gidcue frowned at the mood-killing atmosphere. On a lucky day like today, he didn’t want to hear such ominous stories.

But his companions seemed quite interested in the randomly emerging ghost stories. They each started sharing stories they knew.

“Do you know why the Dvara Cartel collapsed? Actually, they encountered a ghost ship…”

“More than that, I heard from some Humanity guys…”

Rumors of black ghost ships that devour spaceships, secret stories related to the destruction of space cities, tales of demons who wear human skin and pretend to be that person, and so on.

The more Gidcue listened to the pirates, the more exasperated he became.

They all seemed to forget where they were. This is a fortress built in the middle of space. Talking about superstitions on top of the embodiment of technology and science.

Let alone mysterious monsters. About half the pirates visiting this fortress capture and sell those “mysterious monsters.”

Gidcue couldn’t understand which part of their stories he was supposed to enjoy.

“I’m leaving first.”

He paid the android for his drinks and left the establishment.

‘Monsters my ass.’

In the space age, monsters aren’t unknown creatures or ghost ships that devour vessels. Having been human, then a Star Union cyborg, and now a pirate, he knows what real monsters are.

“…Let’s just go get some sleep.”

He needs to go back to work in a few hours. The lone cyborg blended into the crowd on the street.

–

While Gidcue was wasting his life at the bar, the fortress’s military port was welcoming new visitors.

Befitting a city ruled by the disorderly Space Dogs, the visitors also lacked consistency.

Pirate assault ships with cartel emblems, clean and efficiency-focused Megacorp warships, Star Union cargo ships with a rugged image contrary to Megacorps, and various civilian-operated vessels.

Different types of ships were entering and leaving the city with ease. Since the purpose of visiting a pirate fortress was obvious, intensive inspections were unnecessary. It would be ridiculous for a criminal organization to prevent others from committing crimes anyway.

Among the hundreds of ships coming and going at the military port, one particularly stood out.

“Hey. That looks like one of those Satua bastards’ ships.”

“Weren’t they in hiding? Why are they here?”

The Satua Cartel’s assault ships were famous for their unique shape – elongated hulls with widely spread rear sections. Made by modifying retired Megacorp vessels, they had an uncommon appearance.

An anchor-like Satua assault ship had just docked at the military port. A few pirates disembarked and were talking with the port guards.

Other pirates watching from a distance tilted their heads in confusion.

“What? There’s a Volf among the Satua pirates?”

The Satua Cartel consists entirely of humans. They view other sentient beings as potential kidnapping targets. Because of this, they’re considered oddballs even among the Space Dogs, where various races operate.

But among the crew members disembarking now was a Volf with a white raptor head and amber eyes. Moreover, this Volf appeared to be commanding the Satua members.

“Isn’t that fake? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Look at that. The guard bastards are going in.”

The military port guards felt the same strangeness. What should have been a cursory inspection turned into a search of the ship’s interior.

Seeing them enter the assault ship following the Volf, the pirates thought that the fake Satua assault ship would be expelled from the fortress.

But the search results were completely different from their expectations.

The guards who entered the ship took no action upon exiting.

Instead, they treated the Volf with the respect due to a cartel boss. Whether they received bribes or not, the guards even helped the Satua members.

Only after moving two containers from the ship to the military port did they return to their regular duties.

“…What kind of nonsense is this?”

“What’s on that ship to cause such a fuss?”

It’s the first time they’ve seen guards behave like this. The pirates’ gazes turned toward the assault ship.

For most, it ended with curiosity, but some were thinking one step further.

That they needed to find out for themselves what was on that ship.