episode_0351

Naturally, as a high-ranking member, he was also included in the evacuation plan.

“Can’t we use the Stalemate Corridor?”

A Closure Enforcement Unit agent replied.

“It’s reactivation time. The designated safe house is within the access range of the Stalemate Corridor that we control. Please board.”

When the hunters under Cascadia, who were there to support the investigation, asked with a puzzled expression, he roughly brushed them off. There was no need to tell them about such a troublesome matter.

A stealth helicopter landed with a low hum. Since it was an unscheduled flight, there was no escort, but the Director thought nothing of it and flopped down into his seat.

‘Ariel Group’s armaments are, at most, hang gliders, portable anti-air missiles, and medium-sized helicopters. There’s no way they can chase this ultra-high-speed helicopter with Foundation technology.’

As the helicopter lifted off, the caws of crows were unusually loud.

Outside the rising window, two crows ominously circled around and then perched on a tree. At the inauspicious sight, the Director frowned.

“A communication came in from Cascadia. They offered to escort us…”

“Decline it. I’ll get some sleep, wake me when we arrive.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. He never opened them again. For the grim reaper was approaching.

As the helicopter entered the communication-disruption zone, the operation began. A sea dungeon was nearby.

It was a place they frequented, but the pilot felt unusually uneasy. Why?

His premonition was not wrong. Amidst the waves, a Violet, swaying, raised its head from atop a buoy. A black shape flew across the bright yellow sky.

“Good, I’ve got him. To the tactical map coordinates!”

“Three minutes! If we don’t get him in three minutes, he’ll definitely call for rescue! We have to get him no matter what!”

At one end of the network, a cold sea wind battered the fighter jet. The aircraft, reeling from the gale, trembled as if it were a living creature.

The ear-splitting roar of the engine, the dizzyingly approaching water surface.

Pilot Violet skillfully navigated between the waves and sharp reefs.

Ahead, islands tangled like a labyrinth appeared on the blue sea. Thousands of paths, but only one would be a perfect hunting ground.

There was no hesitation.

As the joystick was pushed, the aircraft roared and shook like a beast. It sliced sharply between the islands.

Cliffs and beaches flashed by on either side. There were only a few meters of precarious gap between the horizon and the aircraft.

Amidst the suffocating tension, Violet could not let her guard down for a single moment.

Slow down, and the prey would be lost.

As she turned the joystick and exited the strait, a wide-open horizon and dazzling twilight greeted her.

At the same time, a chill ran down her spine. The target.

When the familiar alarm blared, the pilot’s heart felt as if it had frozen. Radar alert. From somewhere, someone was aiming for their windpipe.

When she turned her head, an enemy aircraft was flying towards them, trailing white foam. An attack with low-altitude flight, no less.

“Emergency! Emergency! Initiating evasive maneuvers!”

His premonition was not wrong. Fear, pouring in like the tide, appeared in the form of a fighter jet.

The enemy aircraft that suddenly burst out from between the island shadows charged fiercely without a moment’s hesitation.

“Thirty seconds until we exit the communication jamming zone!”

“Fox One! Fox One! Firing!”

Flares rained down, scattering across the evening twilight. The sight was dizzying, but the fighter jet advanced without wavering.

Seizing a momentary opening, he pressed the launch button hard.

Three or four missiles exploded in mid-air amidst the countermeasures or flew off in the wrong direction, but the distance was too close.

Fortunately for Violet, there was no need to fire the machine gun.

Because a single white trajectory sharply pierced through the flares.

—Boom!

Condensed time erupted with the explosion.

A blinding flash. An ear-splitting roar. A pillar of fire tearing through the sky. The world shook entirely.

Amidst the ash-gray smoke, only a cheerful radio transmission, announcing victory, broke the silence.

“Target neutralized! Target neutralized! Search for debris and then withdraw!”

It was the moment of the first successful operation for Violet Air Force, having completed its modernization.

**

“Director 07 is missing. We will select the next personnel as planned.”

“Confirmed.”

Secretary-General Pagan’s cold voice echoed in the control room. His gaze seemed to be directed at nothing, but in reality, he was constantly reading augmented reality data flowing across his retina.

In the center of the Foundation’s situation room, which hummed with mechanical vibrations, only his eyes subtly moved.

The Foundation’s personnel roster appeared like a hologram. Director 07’s name and photo vanished like disappearing dust, and the Luminexa Adaptive Control System’s algorithm filled in new personnel information.

Just as old parts are replaced with new ones, personnel department agents would soon bring in a new director for handover.

‘Fools.’

One director died. But how much significance did that hold?

The Foundation’s analysis algorithm presented cold figures. The pattern of this incident matched the tactics of those terrorist groups during the Magnavis attack by over 87%. A cold smile touched Pagan’s lips. No big

deal. The Foundation was designed to operate independently from the start.

Every member of the Foundation was no different from an intricate mechanical device. Though there might be differences in importance,

they were beings who could be replaced whenever necessary. This applied even to him, the Secretary-General.

His autocratic younger brother had also perfectly assimilated Luminexa’s organizational philosophy during his time as a director.

Appearing like an ordinary large corporation, it was actually composed of independent blocks that could immediately disperse and escape in a crisis.

The only problem was that this ant-like offensive was faster than expected.

“Attempts to acquire shares and assets are continuously being detected.”

After Luminexa’s declaration of subjugation, Laplaxia’s stock price, which had plummeted, rebounded.

Was it merely a rise due to speculative sentiment? The pattern of asset movement was unusual.

The control algorithm sent a warning to the directors: about the hidden dangers behind the acquisition attempts.

If someone was aiming for control of Laplaxia, what was their objective?

The research facilities had already suffered significant damage. In fierce market competition, a halt to R&D was akin to castrating a company’s future potential.

The damage to the production facilities themselves was minimal.

There would be no immediate problem with product manufacturing…but were they merely targeting the company’s value? What was the hidden intention behind it?

“The Foundation’s financial department and various partner businesses are defending against stock price drops and asset fluctuations.”

“Continue. Thoroughly track the forces behind this as well.”

The Foundation was aware.

From the blurry combat records and evidence from Circlif, the Ariel Group possessed combat analysis and proliferation capabilities on par with their own.

Nevertheless, they could not retreat.

‘This is a matter of prestige.’

Whatever the case, they couldn’t appear weak, especially because of the sharks gathering at the scent of blood.

For the sake of their great undertaking for the world. Absolutely not!

“When will the anti-terrorist task force be formed? What about Restraid and Arsith?”

The directors and Secretary-General ceaselessly analyzed and controlled the information pouring out from the control algorithm.

Unlike Magnavis, which had tucked tail and fled to the continent as soon as a single surprise attack halted their project, they had no intention of backing down.

The declaration of subjugation was an opportunity to express their resolute will.

“The Arsith Consortium has deployed one operational team. Restraid has decided to urgently dispatch two squad-sized knight orders. Their son, newly designated as successor, is also included.”

‘Not the Iron Guard.’

Pagan clicked his tongue inwardly.

Still, if a scion undergoing successor training was included, they would likely be quite an elite group.

It seemed they had shown their own sincerity.

It was doubtful if there would be anyone as skilled as that young Sebastian.

Amidst the relentless flood of information, Pagan irritably rose from his seat.

Minutes later, the Secretary-General’s face contorted.

It was a natural reaction. Especially when facing the phantom-like presence of his dead brother and the ominous ‘gift’ it brought.

“Brother, how is it? Our Laplaxia’s gift. It should be enough to subdue those terrorist brats.”

**

The Secretary-General glared at the entity impersonating his brother with an icy gaze.

“Let me make one thing clear. You are not my brother. You abomination.”

“Ah, strictly speaking, I am not the ‘Chairman’ himself, Secretary-General.”

It smiled cunningly.

“However, in case of vacancy, we are programmed to perform and be responsible for all emergency procedures of Laplaxia on the Chairman’s behalf. Isn’t it a bit excessive to get angry at an answering machine for doing its job?”

The shapeshifter smiled naturally, just like his brother in life. Fury surged down Pagan’s spine at the eerie resemblance.

“Furthermore, we can perfectly simulate the Chairman’s genetics, fingerprints, and even irises, you see? Even his memories as family with the Secretary-General are perfectly preserved. So, isn’t it ambiguous to assert that I am not ‘Raihan Valence’? If every plank of a ship is replaced, is it a different entity from the original? Or is it the same?…Do you wish to engage in such a philosophical debate?”

“Shut up.”

The Secretary-General’s face twisted grimly. But what truly horrified him was something else entirely.

The metal caskets that the Laplaxia-made monster had dragged in were large and heavy. The directors examining the contents inside them let out gasps of shock.

“My god, did they really complete it? They’re insane…Have they forgotten the conflict with the prestigious families last time? They couldn’t come to their senses and kept pushing it through? What on earth were they thinking, making something like this?”

Frost had formed white on the surface of the observation window, which exuded a chilling aura. Pagan swept his trembling palm across the cold glass, and a chill ran down his spine at the sight revealed beyond the translucent curtain.

“They’ve committed an unforgivable act. This…this is an abomination that shouldn’t exist!”

The shapeshifter gave a cynical laugh.

“Allow me to deliver the Chairman’s final message. He said, ‘By the time this arrives here, my company will already be ruined, and I will be dead. Don’t worry about accountability or conflict.’”

From behind the Secretary-General, someone pointed a finger and shouted in an enraged voice.

“Insane! This is absolutely something that should never be done! They’ve crossed the line! By principle, this should be immediately sealed and destroyed! Moreover…look at that! How many graves did they dig up? And even…heroes! The Federation won’t stand idly by if they see what’s inside there! What on earth was Laplaxia thinking to do something like this?”

The shapeshifter muttered in a low voice.

“It was something that had to be done. Who are you to arbitrarily define what’s crossing a line and what isn’t?”

“What did you say?”

“It’s far more productive than clinging to the alien artifacts the Foundation has hidden away. The Chairman prepared this. To stop the Outer Gods beyond the Arctic Gate, to prepare for the war of our era!”

“Make that thing shut its mouth.”

An ear-splitting boom rang out. At the Secretary-General’s impatient command, the bodyguards simultaneously aimed their firearms.

As blue plasma flashes poured out, the shapeshifter’s body distorted with heat and collapsed.

Its upper body, barely maintaining its form, trembled, and its melting face, paradoxically, smirked as if in mockery.

The monster extended a trembling arm and pointed at the row of caskets.

“Haha…So…you all…you won’t really open them, will you? Right?”

Having completed its task of conveying the Chairman’s will, the monster gasped.

The abomination, having inherited memories, scoffed as if imitating the Chairman. Because it saw the hesitation reflected in their eyes.

—Bang!

The monster completely melted away with the second shot. Now, only the operating metal caskets remained beside the sputtering black remnants. Perhaps they would be a trump card.

The directors and the Secretary-General, standing before the caskets, exchanged uneasy glances. Even Secretary-General Pagan’s eyes, who had just ordered the firing, wavered for a moment.

“Now…what do we do? With those…”

For a moment, they froze in place amidst heavy silence. Only the faint hum of the freezing devices echoed from within the cold caskets, and their distorted expressions were vaguely reflected on the frosted observation window.

No one could readily make a decision, and they stood there as if time had stopped.