Chapter 55

“What’s that...? What is that?” Majia asked, sounding dazed.

“It’s an ID tag.”

I should’ve had auxiliary gear installed in my jaw too. I wish he’d just shut up.

Erabelle frowned as she slid the ID tag back into place before it could detonate.

Her torn flesh squelched like kneaded meat as the tag clicked into its socket. After checking the time, Erabelle raised her eyes to the thick concrete wall.

About four hours left.

The wall completely blocked any outgoing signal.

***

“Lieutenant Vermilion’s signal has been cut off.”

Dezeb received the report while leafing through the latest performance test results for an experimental weapon.

If the two princes were going to fight each other in earnest, they needed enormous logistical support. That meant more work for him, and Dezeb was perpetually busy.

“What, did she rip out her ID tag and run off?”

It happened sometimes.

“She appears to be in Molin City.”

“Why would Erabelle be there?”

Dezeb asked without looking up from the report.

“It seems she may have gone there on her own.”

At the cautious reply, he gave a short laugh.

“What are the people there doing?”

“They seem to be standing by because they can’t contact us.”

“Yeah?”

Aries Cider squeezed his eyes shut.

There were quite a few agents of the second prince scattered throughout the 80 Colony. One in particular had planted himself right beside the company commander. They were constantly on the 41st Division’s heels, and in most cycles, the 41st Division ended up admitting to supply mismanagement.

That would sap some of the 41st Division’s momentum and bring the balance between the emperor-backed thirteenth prince and the second prince a little closer to even.

But somewhere along the way, one member of the squad would usually be sacrificed during interrogation.

Normally, the one suffering from severe depression and lacking any motivation would be the one saddled with the role in this cycle, dropping out early.

But this time...

This time, it was Erabelle.

“So we won’t get caught this time?”

Erabelle would never confess.

And if she did, that would actually be better.

“And our prince won’t have to look at me with those pitying eyes this time.”

The prince could never bring himself to abandon him.

So Dezeb would suffer even greater losses, and still the prince always understood.

Dezeb wasn’t the true heir to the marquessate, so the prince understood his desire to build up private funds.

He even gave him more afterward.

It was absurd.

Dezeb found it so amusing that he never stopped the squad from going to the 80 Colony.

“How much time is left?”

The ID tag was programmed to detonate automatically if its signal remained cut off for six hours.

“Four hours.”

Four hours.

In roughly four hours, Lieutenant Erabelle Vermilion would be dead.

***

I’m going to die.

Erabelle once again confirmed the conclusion she had reached three weeks ago.

There was still time, so finding some way to transmit a signal wasn’t entirely impossible.

But even if she escaped and managed to send one, she would die anyway.

Because I’ve been captured.

The ID tag could transmit through the waves of the quaternary system and even through interference from the non-physical dead swarm.

But it couldn’t penetrate four meters of concrete and a signal jammer built by humans.

Once you were captured, you had to explode.

Whether it happened before the time limit or after made no difference.

Once your identity as an ID tag user was exposed, you were eliminated.

Even if they never discovered that much, the result was the same.

They would decide you were no longer useful and dispose of you.

That was the fate of an ID tag user.

The only exception was the prince from the original storyline.

He could be injured, but he never died.

His circumstances were completely different from mine.

I was useful.

Not indispensable.

Now that I’d been exposed and attracted unwanted attention, the Dogs wouldn’t let me go.

If I didn’t explode here, the Dogs would take care of it later.

And they’d probably stand over what was left of me, talking about getting burgers afterward.

I wasn’t planning to survive anyway, but thinking about it still pisses me off...

Erabelle pushed herself upright and linked the APU units in her ankle and knee.

The shattered bones in her ankle were forcibly pulled back into alignment.

“Lieutenant!!”

Majia turned deathly pale when he saw her set the broken bones without so much as a groan.

“Keep your voice down. If someone comes, things will get harder for both of us.”

She activated every APU in her body.

Once they were fully engaged, the pain would be far worse than setting her ankle.

But by then, it wouldn’t matter.

“What... what exactly is going to be hard for me?”

Majia asked with a scowl, his head turned aside as though he had to force the words out.

“Why? You thought they were going to send you home safe?”

“...”

Majia clamped his mouth shut.

“Don’t believe that crap. Stay here long enough and you’ll die like a dog too. I’m being completely honest right now. Courtesy of the truth serum.”

“You talk pretty well for someone who just had their teeth knocked out.”

“That’s the stimulatory effect of the auxiliary gear.”

Majia glanced at Erabelle’s face, where darkened veins bulged beneath the skin, then quickly lowered his gaze.

“What are you really? Who the hell are you, Lieutenant?”

“Supply officer. Fifth year. 41st Division. Erabelle Vermilion. Twenty-seven. Now stop yelling.”

“You’re really with the 41st Division...? I thought you transferred in...”

His eyes trembled as he stared at her.

Then he added,

“How much did you pay for that Volya beer you sold me?”

“1.5cp.”

“You charged me 6cp!”

“If you’ve got more questions, ask them while we move. Just don’t shout. You’re level 4, right? Keep up.”

Majia’s eyes widened when he saw Erabelle open a signum channel.

All external signals were being blocked.

The fact that she could still establish a channel meant she had to be at least A-rank.

“S-S-rank...?”

Even within the Empire, S-rank users were placed under special management.

They commanded overwhelming wealth and prestige.

Some were even granted peerage.

“Let me tell you this now. Don’t ask questions. You’re going to anyway, but the answers won’t do you any good. I warned you.”

“You’re S-rank, Lieutenant?!”

“Yeah.”

“Then you really are a candidate for division commander...”

“Yeah.”

“Unbelievable... Unbelievable.”

Majia kept muttering the word as he hurried after Erabelle, who was already moving silently ahead.

She navigated the passageways without hesitation, as though the place belonged to her.

That frightened him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Someone like her—an S-rank, a candidate for division commander—had no reason to be selling weapons on the side.

But perhaps Jagon had been right.

Perhaps she wasn’t the person Majia thought she was.

That fear soon became reality.

They reached the exit.

It was little more than a transport-drone launch port, barely a meter wide, but large enough for a person to squeeze through.

Without taking a single wrong turn, Erabelle had brought him straight to it.

Then she opened the heavy iron door as if it weighed nothing.

Majia watched her pull a spare key from the control box, use it, then toss it back into its hidden compartment.

He lowered his head.

“There should be a shuttle nearby. I was conscious when they brought me in, so I can find it. I can reach a nearby colony and... Ah. The coordinates might be a problem...”

“447-63. There isn’t a nearby colony. Molin City is under the second prince’s jurisdiction, so the whole area is locked down. That’s the coordinate for a temporary base: 447-63. Go there first.”

“W-where exactly is that?”

“I just told you. A temporary base. And don’t even think about wandering outside recklessly. A short-range shuttle can’t get through the gravitational field. You know that, right? Don’t touch any of the ships either. And don’t use the gate. You’ll be detected. If that happens, the best you can hope for is a quick execution.”

Erabelle rattled off the warnings.

“There are supplies in the second underground room at the base. Password is 3337b. There’s no biometric lock, so you’ll be fine. Hold out for a few years, then maybe try sending a rescue signal.”

“What does that even mean...?”

“I don’t know. Grow potatoes or something. It’s not like you’ll have much else to do.”

Erabelle gave him a crooked grin.

“Stay alive.”

“Lieutenant...?”

She shoved the still-bewildered Majia through the launch port.

The APU was powerful enough that even a level 4 like him could be sent stumbling backward with a single hand.

Erabelle gave a quiet snort.

“Lieutenant!”

“Seriously, stop yelling. Why not call the whole neighborhood while you’re at it?”

Still grumbling, she pulled the triple-layered iron door shut.

It closed faster than expected.

Majia flinched and reached toward her, but Erabelle had already stepped back.

“L-Lieutenant! Lieutenant!”

His cries vanished behind the thick steel.

Erabelle remained where she was for a moment.

Even the hazy, smog-choked sky she had glimpsed outside was gone now.

And once she realized she would never see it again, even that felt like something she had lost.

Standing before the thick iron door and concrete wall, Erabelle lowered her head.

She felt a little guilty admitting it.

But the filthy, smog-laden air outside lingered in her mind far longer than Majia ever would.