Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 957: Section 628: Regret (1)

Chapter 957: Section 628: Regret (1)

It seems that this guy named Victor should be a human, but he must have been modified by that military AI.

The modification surgery requires the recipient to have enough ’strength’, a concept Malin still doesn’t understand, because as far as he knows among the known recipients, those children born in the Purple Chamber are all different. Some possess enough Spell Talent, others become high-ranking warriors, and still others have extraordinary business acumen. Malin’s Lulu... this little Night Watcher doesn’t have any remarkable talents or the physical constitution; she doesn’t even... Malin frowned, putting this wise but otherwise talentless girl aside and then turned to the three members of the Dark Guild.

Now, they are Malin’s most troublesome issue to deal with.

Looking at them, Malin spoke: "It seems you don’t want to be enemies with me, why is that?"

This was Malin’s most curious question. After all, if they really fought, even Malin couldn’t squash them all in a blink. Without Raglov and Todd, someone would certainly flee.

The silence of these three young men to Malin’s question was surprising for a while, until finally the one brimming with buckshots spoke: "I have a younger brother and two younger sisters, all serving in the army or logistics... Sir, you should know that your existence has helped my siblings. Although I am an assassin, I understand that without you, my family members would have likely ended up in trouble, as everyone knows how terrifying Chaos is."

"I see... So considering your age, how old are your sisters?" Malin sat down, somewhat unable to comprehend why this young man’s siblings would choose such dangerous jobs. The brother was understandable, but the sisters, even in the logistics camp, that’s still the dangerous front line.

But... it is at least a job.

"My brother is fifteen, the older sister is thirteen, and the younger one is ten. Although the two sisters can’t fight as soldiers like my brother, they can wash clothes, cook, and deliver some food in the logistics camp," the young man said, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand: "I can give them about forty Mowish a month, which is enough for them to live comfortably. But my brother was conscripted before your arrival, and there was nothing I could change. The conscription officer even sent his own son to the front lines. What else can I say? I can’t just kill the guy; he’s just another unfortunate soul."

"What about your sisters?" Malin said, flicking another cigarette to him while feeling some sympathy for his plight—though an assassin who took lives, business is business, but there’s still a shred of conscience left in him.

The young man received the cigarette, lighting it with the butt of the old one.

"Forty Mowish may not be much for the wealthy, but in that place, it’s enough to save a family. With my brother away and the sisters still young, even though the older one understands... Do you know, I fear every day that the younger one might slip up with her words. In these times, life is sometimes worth no more than a silver coin, so I let them join the army. With you around, the army isn’t a man-eating den, and without you and me, they’re just lost souls walking through purgatory, at any moment liable to lose their lives," he said, drawing deeply on the cigarette and then looked at Malin: "We brothers were waiting here for the trackers, wanting to see who handling this affair might draw out. In our imagination, an Assistant Priest shouldn’t attract any terrifying entities, but who would have guessed it would draw you, that Assistant Priest of the Church of the War God, what sort of background does he really have."

"Who knows, someone wanted him dead, Hamil," the obedient young Mica remarked.

"His life is quite valuable, ten thousand Mowish. After the guild takes its cut, the six of us can still get a thousand each," Fisher said, his legs broken halfway, seemingly agitated by his wounds, drawing a sharp intake of breath.

"That guy named V, anything odd about him?" Malin offered cigarettes to the two young men.

"He is quite strange, capricious, accepts any kind of job," Hamil was the first to respond.

"I haven’t really seen him eating out at stores; he’s always eating somewhere unknown," Mica took the cigarette tossed by Malin and sighed.

"I’ve seen him eating the leftovers from the Great Destruction Era, I don’t know how he manages to swallow that wax-tasting stuff," Fisher gave Malin a very interesting answer.

Malin and Jason, after discussing, opined that this guy named Victor really was an Augmented, but the modifications on him were not military but rather the black market modifications Jason spoke of—using all sorts of piecemeal items for a one-time modification to the human body. Such modifications usually don’t last long, five years, maybe ten, at most fifteen—that’s what Jason said. He mentioned that with Victor’s condition and the current material issues, it might be a challenge to even survive seven years.

However, Jason also said that there’s one good thing about these black market modifications: the materials used on these Augmented can be recycled and reused.

In other words, this guy named Victor might very likely not be the first owner of these plugins and modifications on his body.