Chapter Sixty-Five: Another Visitor

When Lakan and the other two taboo figures stepped out of the Corpse Collector’s territory, each was lost in heavy thought.

They had always believed that the Corpse Collector organization was innocuous, harmless to both man and beast. Today, however, they suddenly realized that the one entrenched atop the mountain was no docile sheep awaiting their plunder, but a true and fearsome dragon.

Their hearts brimmed with anxiety. If the Corpse Collectors ever entertained thoughts of unifying the Plati black market, they could lose everything they now possessed at a moment’s notice.

It wasn’t as if no one had ever considered unifying the black market before. Yet such an undertaking was far from simple. First, one had to consider the consequences: if the black market were severely damaged and large numbers of people died or fled, other powers might supplant it as the new gathering place, thereby winning the favor of the alien merchants.

Moreover, even if someone did manage to unify the black market, feeding such a vast population would place immense pressure on any taboo figure. On the other hand, if one tried to reduce their manpower, it would only make them vulnerable to joint incursions by rival factions, leading swiftly to their demise.

It was precisely these tangled checks and balances that had produced a strange equilibrium in the black market. The taboo figures might change, but the territories had remained unchanged for many years.

Now, with the strength the Corpse Collectors had revealed, that balance was being upset. If they took another step—striking deals with the Giant Tree Planet or the Taran Army to secure ample supplies of food and weapons—they would possess the power to swallow all competitors in one gulp.

This shadow loomed constantly over their minds.

As the three taboo figures, flanked by their followers, prepared to return to their respective domains, they were suddenly confronted head-on. Though the newcomers wore the same ragged clothes as the survivors at the foot of the mountain, it was instantly clear they were no such thing.

The survivors, worn by endless toil under the sun and wind, had skin dark and rough, and their spirits were perpetually wilted. These men, though their skin was somewhat coarse, were different. More importantly, they walked with straight-backed confidence, and their gazes contained not the slightest fear, but rather a faint, scornful disdain.

The group halted. The leader, nearly two meters tall, raised his chin and glanced down at them with an air of superiority that irritated the taboo figures deeply. Having just swallowed their pride before Ye Hai, now to be so appraised by strangers made them feel more humiliated than ever in all their years.

“Our general wishes to see the three of you,” the tall man declared.

“Come with me.”

A few of Lakan’s less perceptive men, angered that mere “survivors” would address their boss so, immediately lashed out. But they were met with the muzzles of several high-powered energy pistols. In the blink of an eye, several cold corpses lay at their feet.

Some among the crowd reached for their homemade guns to retaliate, but Lakan and the other taboo figures stopped them with a gesture.

Lakan, face dark, stepped forward and asked, “Which general has graced the Plati black market with their presence? And what business do they have with us?”

The tall man sneered coolly. “You’ll know soon enough.” Noticing Lakan’s broken wrist, he fished a vial of healing agent from his pocket and tossed it over carelessly. “Follow me,” he said flatly.

The three taboo figures exchanged glances. The other party was lavish—a single dose of healing agent could trade for a month’s food for fifty people, or ten automatic rifles and thousands of rounds on the black market. Yet he had tossed it to Lakan as if it were trash.

This blend of intimidation and largesse left them no choice but to comply.

As they walked, Bell began to frown. Their guide was leading them directly toward his own territory. When Bell saw his base’s alloy doors already open, his expression darkened.

For all taboo figures, their base was the last line of safety. Now it had been opened by strangers, and all his guards at the entrance had been replaced. It was clear: if the intruders wished him dead, it would require no effort at all.

Once inside, the alloy doors closed behind them. Following the tall man for about fifty meters, Bell’s pupils contracted—the thirty or so men he had left in the base were all crouched against the wall, hands clasped over their heads. Though no guards could be seen, not a soul dared move.

They walked another fifty meters, deeper into the cave, until they reached what had once been Bell’s quarters and the food storeroom. Now the place was in shambles; apparently, even the generator had been shut down, for the chamber was pitch black.

Suddenly, a burst of fire lit up the darkness. Following the fiery glow, the three taboo figures cried out in alarm and instinctively tried to flee, only to be driven back at gunpoint.

Now they could only watch, trembling, as a human-faced spider clinging to the wall gathered a fireball in its limbs. Worse still, the next moment, a sphere of light shot forth from the depths of the cave, and the fireball simultaneously attacked some unseen spot in the darkness.

By the light of fire and electricity, the three finally saw what was battling the human-faced spider: a gigantic suit of power armor, over three meters tall. In its right hand it wielded a shield, in its left a warhammer over two meters long. Huge energy pistols hung at its waist, and a 500mm high-powered cannon was slung across its back.

When the two psychic attacks struck from different directions, the power armor raised its shield, a pale blue barrier flaring to life. With a mighty swing, it knocked the light sphere aside, then pivoted and smashed the fireball with its hammer.

Then, with astonishing speed, it charged at the spider on the wall. Each step made the entire cave tremble. The human-faced spider tried to scuttle away along the wall, but the power armor holstered its shield, drew one of the massive pistols, and fired at the cave roof. A boulder crashed down, blocking the spider’s path. Forced to slow, the spider tried to climb higher, but in that instant the power armor leaped and brought its hammer down with a deafening crash.

A moment later, the cave fell silent. The lights flickered on. The three taboo figures' eyes widened in shock—the savage human-faced spider’s upper body was now nothing but a mass of flesh smeared across the wall. The severed lower half was stomped into pulp by the power armor’s foot.

The other human-faced spider was caught in the grip of another suit of power armor, this one wielding a massive sword. With a swift motion, it decapitated the creature.

From the shadows stepped a middle-aged man in a deep blue military uniform, clapping his hands. Eight more fearsome suits of power armor followed him out of the darkness.

Bell narrowed his eyes, studying the newcomer carefully. He murmured, “General Kobayashi of Chaos Star, one of the five great warlords... What a day for important guests.”