227

“For now, prioritize healing your injuries. We will soon be short on manpower. Make sure you are fully healed by then.”

“I understand,” I said with a nod, and the major nodded back.

My body throbbed with pain, but I knew this body was resistant to pain, so it did not bother me that much.

More importantly, all I could do was laugh at the result of clashing with him at full strength while he remained unscathed.

This was exactly what people meant by “not even worth discussing.”

The difference in our basic specifications was so great that it had not even been a contest.

And since our appearances differed only in size and color, it proved that the difference between projects had created a decisive difference in combat power.

In other words, Type Goliath, the final version of the Genetically Enhanced Soldier Project—meaning me—had naturally been expected to win against test subjects from the Chimera Project.

The spider man’s poison had been somewhat dangerous, but if it turned into a contest of brute force, it was obvious that he would have died first. So there was no doubt that the later the model, the higher its specifications became.

That said, what was with this performance gap?

“Major… are you not Type Goliath?”

I had been beaten badly enough that I unintentionally asked that.

There was still the slight possibility that he only looked the same and was different inside, so I asked just in case… but his answer was exactly what I had expected.

“Strictly speaking, no. I am the completed form of the Ultimate Lifeform Project, which followed the Genetically Enhanced Soldier Project and was adjusted based on Type Goliath. My basic performance is roughly three times that of the base Type Goliath, but…”

“That is only catalog specification, so it cannot be relied upon,” the major snorted.

“Honestly, because things happen that force us to learn the true performance of weapons meant for actual combat only after they are brought into actual combat, I cannot trust a word the weapons development people say.”

At that complaint, I also went, “Ah, yeah,” and sympathized with the major as I remembered the countless bizarre Imperial weapons that had already caused incidents.

Still, even if the catalog specification said there was a threefold difference, I felt that in practice, it would not be strange if the gap was around double.

“My body was created thanks to the contribution of the first successful base case. It is truly unfortunate that he ended in a rampage.”

Come to think of it, Rachel had said of the genetically enhanced soldiers that “they were frozen after repeated loss of control.”

If that was true, did that mean there had been test subjects among the Type Goliaths who had been active while I was asleep?

If so, that would also explain why the major had been able to move naturally immediately after awakening.

(Did they get all the data they needed, so my turn never came and I was left alone?)

I had heard from Lark that both the Chimera Project and the Genetically Enhanced Soldier Project themselves had existed for the sake of the next stage, the Ultimate Lifeform Project.

I never thought I would come to feel the truth of that in this form.

That said, thanks to that, I had been the only one able to survive inside that research facility.

Life really was something where you never knew what might happen, I thought as I somehow sorted out my indescribable feelings.

“Were you active in that form during the Imperial era?”

“Hmm. I do not feel as if two hundred years have passed, but… that is correct. My last memory was going to sleep for adjustments.”

That said, confirming it had been careless.

A careless remark becoming the trigger for suspicion was a standard development.

Especially for an ordinary person like me, I should have been even more careful, but the major readily told me about the situation back then.

“With this power, I thought it would be easy to restore the front lines… but I never imagined I would not be deployed.”

In response to my question of whether the other test subjects had been the same, the major denied it, saying, “I have never heard such a thing.”

In the end, as far as the major knew, the genetically enhanced soldiers had gone to sleep without ever being sent to the battlefield.

“As for the reason, I was told it was because control was incomplete. There was insufficient data to send them to the battlefield. When I saw the Type Behemoth demonstration, I insisted that it should be immediately deployed in actual combat.”

“Ah, come to think of it, I’ve heard that story before,” I thought, remembering Lark’s words.

Type Goliath was the final genetically enhanced soldier, and judging from the recruitment pitch, I had slipped into one of the few remaining slots among them, so I probably had not been chosen for that sort of role.

There was also the possibility that even among the same model, I had been evaluated poorly, but here too, it seemed I had slipped through a judgment where I could not tell whether I had been lucky or unlucky.

“Apparently, the most troublesome thing was the program left behind by Dr. Zeta, the creator of this genetic modification technology. I was told that unless they dealt with it somehow, deployment in actual combat would be impossible.”

At those words, I tilted my head.

Was this some kind of bluff?

“You mean the Nemesis Code, right?”

The words slipped out without thinking, and I thought, “Damn it,” but my expression did not change.

My facial muscles, which usually did no work, were useful once in a while.

“…Tell me the details of this Nemesis Code.”

The major asked for an explanation of my words as if the term was unfamiliar to him.

(Wait. What does this mean?)

I had no time to think.

So I decided to tell him only the official reason I had heard from Lark.

“The Nemesis Code is a self-destruct program created by Dr. Zeta. Genetic modification technology was apparently originally intended for medical purposes, and he was opposed to its military use.”

“Where did you learn that?”

If I said something careless, he would realize that I had eaten other test subjects.

Even I understood that there was no reason that would turn out well.

“…A person who had undergone the procedure for its original purpose awakened in another research facility.”

“Who was it?”

“Count Lark Adamas.”

Perhaps it was the name of someone he knew, because the major’s eyes opened wide.

“He was alive?”

At the major’s words, I silently shook my head.

Then I told him.

I spoke of Lark’s final moments and described Lark as someone who had remained a fitting Imperial noble until the very end.

“…I see. So that was how Lark met his end.”

“Did you know him?”

At my words, the major nodded and said, “Yes.”

“For all that I may look like this, I was involved with the project from its early stages, beginning with the Chimera Project. He was one of its investors, and as fellow Imperial nobles, even though our aims differed, we recognized each other’s passion for this project.”

He had been involved from the beginning, yet he had not been informed about the Nemesis Code.

Was that because he was a soldier?

Or was it because the major had been a candidate for the Ultimate Lifeform Project from the very beginning?

If so, did the Nemesis Code exist inside the major?

Various speculations flew through my head, and I regretted not having the brains to organize them.

“Two hundred years was too long, then…”

At the major’s murmur, I silently nodded.

For a while, the major lowered his face in silence as if offering a silent prayer.

“Major, why did you…”

I swallowed the words I had started to say.

Why had he become a test subject?

Careless words could become the trigger for suspicion—I had just reminded myself of that, only to nearly blunder immediately afterward. But after falling silent, I realized it was not such an unnatural flow after all.

“…It is a story found anywhere. I was removed from the front lines due to injury, even though my comrades were still fighting. So I grew impatient. If this technology advanced, I thought I could return to the battlefield, even if it meant abandoning my humanity.”

I had not asked that much, but with what he told me, his image as a person was starting to settle in my mind.

(This is extremely bad. Just as I first felt, he is the very picture of an Imperial soldier.)

He could very well restart a war in this era.

And I would be dragged into it.

But in a sense, this flow was convenient.

I could ask now.

Having judged that, I asked the major what I had wanted to know most.

“Could you tell me about the laboratories of the other test subjects from the Chimera Project and the Genetically Enhanced Soldier Project?”

The major had said manpower was necessary.

Then at this very moment, I could ask their locations for the purpose of gathering fellow genetically enhanced soldiers.

Sensing my intent, the major nodded and looked around.

Then he began gathering nearby fragments of the floor.

“Let this be the Imperial Capital.”

He placed the first piece to represent the Imperial Capital, then began setting down more fragments one after another.

“The Chimera Project was, so to speak, an experiment. There is a high probability that they no longer retain even human reason, so we will exclude those.”

“No, please tell me everything you know.”

Sitting on the floor with a fragment in hand, the major turned toward me.

His eyes silently pressed me, asking, “What happened?”

“I fought a test subject who seemed to belong to the Chimera Project, and I killed him without realizing it.”

After I explained the opponent, the major put a hand to his chin, seemed to think for a moment, then opened his mouth.

“That was Type Gorgon. A serial killer who became a test subject in the Chimera Project. Killing him was the right decision. Do not let it trouble you.”

“He targeted civilians and enjoyed tormenting people. I thought someone like that could not possibly be an Imperial soldier…”

“I was the one who made him a test subject. The responsibility that lies beyond what troubles you rests with me. Do not brood over it any further.”

Saying that, the major gently patted my shoulder.

After that, I heard the locations of all the laboratories he knew—in short, I wished I had never asked.

“—That is all of them. First, I will visit the facilities around the Imperial Capital to secure personnel. I will not return for several days, but if you are Type Goliath, you will have no problem going five days without food. I will look for usable water here. Endure it for a while.”

I watched the major stand, then, still lying on the floor, I glanced sideways at the fragments placed there and exhaled while covering my face with my arm.

My hope had been crushed.

The major had said he knew everything.

Among them, there had indeed been research facilities I did not know about.

“If they’re around the Imperial Capital, there’s no point.”

My uninjured arm blocked my vision, and I learned the fact that the Chimera Project test subjects had all been wiped out, while of the remaining genetically enhanced soldiers, I was the last.

After some time, the major brought drinking water in a plastic tank. I thanked him, and without seeing him off, I would go to sleep… but I could not sleep now.

After judging that he had moved far enough away from the laboratory, I stood and began walking.

I had been told to prioritize healing, but there was something I had to do.

“If it’s this facility, there has to be something.”

The major had not known about the Nemesis Code.

Dragging my still-painful body, I walked down the corridor.

What I was searching for was a document room with only a human-sized entrance. Hoping that records from that time remained there, I slowly proceeded through the hallway.

Then I searched every room I found, and in the cramped document room I finally discovered, I gathered bundles of paper and began reading them in the corridor.

What I needed were details on the Ultimate Lifeform Project and information on the major himself.

As I read on, the purpose of the Ultimate Lifeform Project became clear.

“New Humanity… a new human race with manipulated genes, robust bodies, and even conquered lifespans.”

It was insanity.

But written there were the words: “War is not something waged by the sane.”

What had triggered the Empire to go this mad?

The more the documents I finished reading piled up, the heavier my heart became.

I was able to confirm the specifications of the ultimate lifeform, but… its appearance was indeed Type Goliath.

However, I learned that its contents were closer to Type Behemoth as the standard.

It lacked the ability to switch modes like I could, but it pursued pure combat ability alone. The completed form of the Ultimate Lifeform Project seemed to be something that added Behemoth’s power and toughness, Goliath’s speed, and several traits from a type I did not know, “Angel.”

“What the hell is that, cherry-picking all the best parts?” I nearly complained.

What exactly had a genetically enhanced soldier born from the latest Imperial technology like me even been?

Then, as I continued reading through the bundle of documents in my hand, I came across a certain sentence.

“…Suspicion of rebellious intent in the test subject, Captain Estorque?”

That rigid soldier of a major… in this case, had some sort of scandal occurred when he was a captain?

However, as I continued reading beyond that point, a bad feeling welled up inside me.

And it proved correct.

“—Therefore, it has been decided that the Nemesis Code will also be applied to the Ultimate Lifeform Project.”

There lay certain hope.

However, the scales tilted greatly toward despair.

There was no prospect of victory.

In fact, I could see no future except one where I lost and was eaten.

“…No, that’s not it.”

The problem was that it was now certain the major would eventually lose his reason and become a monster.

Of the Empire’s survivors who had undergone genetic modification technology continuing from the Chimera Project, only the major and I remained.

Would I kill and eat the major and survive, or would the major devour me, eventually become a monster, and trample the world?

If there was anyone who could defeat that major—then I could not imagine the premise needed to hold on to hope.

“What are you telling me to do?”

A new purpose born just before I died.

But achieving it was far too difficult, and I did not even know whether it was possible in the first place.

“What should I do?”

I looked up at the ceiling and murmured as the bundle of papers slipped from my hand.