***

When Ga-on entered the cargo hold with the girl, an overwhelming amount of luggage met his eyes.

The storage racks rose like towers and were divided by section, appearing orderly at first glance, but to Ga-on who lacked the relevant information, it felt like an endless ocean.

Moreover, it wasn't just passenger luggage.

Most interstellar passenger ships doubled as cargo carriers. There were quite a few packaged deliveries as well.

In fact, that's what Ga-on had been counting on.

There's so much here. With luck, there should be one or two items that made it through customs.

As he was examining the more tightly sealed items, the girl approached and asked.

"What are you looking for?"

"Anything that could be used as a weapon."

"I'll help look too."

The two immediately began searching but couldn't find anything noteworthy.

"I thought there'd be at least one smuggled weapon, but they're surprisingly thorough."

"Getting blocked in the most useless place."

Well, it was a government-operated passenger ship. Getting involved halfway would be nothing short of suicidal.

"Still, there must be something. It'll just take time for the two of us to find it."

That's when his temples started tingling.

Someone was coming.

If they stayed put, they'd cross paths.

Ga-on grabbed the girl and threw himself into a shadowy corner.

"Why..."

"Shh."

Just as he covered the girl's mouth, someone entered the cargo hold.

Four people in total.

'A pregnant woman, a young couple, and an elderly man.'

All faces he'd seen in the passenger cabin. They were the group that had helped the boy hijack the passenger ship.

With practiced steps, they went to one of the storage racks and opened one of the cases lined up in a row.

Inside was high-end equipment.

Not only was there a MUG-1 grade combat coat, but it was also fully equipped with weaponry.

He could rush out and force hand-to-hand combat to take them down, but he had to consider the possibility that what was visible wasn't everything.

Hadn't the boy committed murder using slots installed in his own body?

For Ga-on, erasing traces of his passage was just as important as subduing the rampaging group.

Unfortunately, the 'Nuclease' - a drug that breaks down specific DNA sequences - was in his trunk.

For now, all he could do was watch without acting rashly. Once they achieved their goal, they'd leave.

But contrary to Ga-on's expectations, the four people instead began methodically moving through the storage racks, taking out other cases.

Ga-on frowned at the contents piling up neatly.

'Units?'

If 'slots' was the general term for internally implanted devices, 'units' referred to externally attached equipment. Broadly speaking, prosthetic limbs and swords could be considered types of units, but few people actually made that distinction.

It gave a strong impression of being an extension of cutting-edge equipment.

The unit the four people were assembling was exactly that.

Finally, the joints fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces, forming a single shape.

A ball-jointed doll that traced beautiful curves as if following the formula of the human body. At first glance it looked like an objet d'art, but what was built into it was undoubtedly the fruit of highly advanced civilization.

'A full-body prosthesis?'

The mechanically constructed body was equipped with formidable gear.

But the crucial head was missing.

Just as he wondered if one of the four would volunteer themselves, unexpectedly, a fifth person appeared from an unexpected place.

When the pregnant woman opened her swollen belly, a man's head emerged from inside. He had apparently been waiting for this moment, sustained by life support systems.

Click.

The moment the final piece was fitted, a hot wind blew through the hold.

The appearance of a passenger not on the manifest.

In some ways, it was clever.

If you brought in a full-body prosthesis completely disassembled into the cargo hold, it would be registered as parts.

Sure enough, he could sense the girl's shock.

Ga-on wasn't much different.

'A cyborg.'

A being who had replaced over 90 percent of their body with machines through cybernetic surgery.

Initially considered as a way to overcome disabilities, it had become a rare approach by now.

Entrusting one's mind to machinery rather than organic matter wasn't as simple as it sounded. Besides having to endure all sorts of mental illnesses due to an indescribable sense of alienation, ethical issues had also emerged.

Moreover, wasn't there genetic modification as an alternative technology?

Becoming a cyborg could be said to be the worst possible choice.

But the reason it maintained its existence was because there were advantages that outweighed such disadvantages.

That was the ability to transcend human limitations.

It was ironic that technology developed to maintain a human-like life ultimately led to abandoning that human-like existence.

That's when a monotone voice flowed from the cyborg's mouth.

"The clothing?"

"Here it is."

The pregnant woman, her belly now deflated, held out the combat coat.

The cyborg accepted the gesture as if it were natural and checked the armaments without even a glance. A scene that clearly showed the hierarchy between the two.

"The plan?"

In response to the cyborg's words, the man answered.

"Going smoothly. As expected, those rats are all holed up in the bridge staging their sit-in."

"Good."

That's when the woman added with a sigh.

"However, it seems one passenger has escaped. We're currently searching."

"No time for hide and seek. Communications are cut anyway, so they can't call for help."

The cyborg shook his head as if it wasn't worth considering and ordered a return.

"Wasting time will only create variables. Once we achieve our objective, we'll blow up this passenger ship anyway."

Even the elite Mars Defense Force wouldn't be able to figure out what happened without witnesses or evidence.

"Vintelo, you stay behind and plant bombs in the cargo hold."

"Got it."

In an instant, only the old man Vintelo remained while the four others disappeared. The cargo hold that had been bustling just moments ago was now steeped in silence.

The girl's shoulders trembled slightly, perhaps from the release of the taut string of tension. The vague presence of death had now become tangibly close.

Unfortunately, this time even Ga-on couldn't help but feel the terror acutely.

If the spaceship exploded, he would become a space orphan.

For someone who couldn't die, this was a fate more horrifying than death.

He would likely spend an almost eternal life drifting through endless space. All while experiencing pain to the absolute limits that his nervous system could endure.

There was no doubt that a despair incomparable to anything he had experienced before awaited him.

'So this is why they killed so mercilessly.'

They never intended to let anyone live from the start. What difference would one or two more make when the end was already determined?

Ga-on let out a hollow laugh as he rose from his position.

He had to stop them before they achieved their objective. That was the only way out.

Fortunately, one old man remained alone, working. He would make a suitable signal flare for the counterattack.

Ga-on hunched his upper body forward and suddenly sprinted.

Tap!

The old man Vintelo turned his head at the unexpected presence, but it was already too late. Ga-on had already closed in to point-blank range.

Despite the sudden situation, Vintelo showed no signs of agitation as he placed his index finger on the trigger. He was a battle-hardened veteran. His body reacted before his mind could process it.

However, Ga-on, as if he had been waiting for this, inserted his finger between the trigger guard to suppress the weapon about to fire.

Then with his remaining hand, he grabbed the barrel.

Creak.

"What..."

After throwing away the rifle that had twisted like clay, Vintelo tried to draw the combat knife strapped to his thigh, but—

"Not a bad idea to confiscate this."

It had already been seized by Ga-on.

But Vintelo didn't cower. The clothing he wore was MUG-1 grade equipment. It wasn't something that could be penetrated by ordinary blades.

Because of this, Vintelo charged forward, but Ga-on roughly grabbed and pinned him down.

"Ugh."

In an instant, the veteran was forced to his knees with his head bowed.

Ga-on twisted Vintelo's arm behind his back and drove the combat knife through to keep the two body parts from separating.

Only after the outcome was clearly decided did the girl appear and chatter.

"That was dangerous. That person was trying to contact his companions through his device. If I hadn't blocked it beforehand, we would have been in big trouble."

Ga-on smirked and threw the object he had been clutching to the girl.

Clatter.

It was the device he had torn off immediately after getting close.

"...Just saying."

Realizing her worry had been unnecessary, the girl sheepishly scratched her nose.

Vintelo looked back and forth between the two people, assessed the situation, and let out a sigh.

"Not one but two people, this was unexpected. What kind of magic did you use?"

"Consider it punishment for not double-checking what you thought was a dead fire."

"Ha, are you forces dispatched by the city government? But it's too late. That person has already awakened."

Though his tone suggested he was seriously misunderstanding something, Ga-on didn't refute.

After all, it was Vintelo who needed to provide answers, not him.

Ga-on stepped on the combat knife and smiled brightly.

"Well then, let's have a little chat since we're already late. How many of you came in, and what are you after?"

*

Captain Aion Rowell of the E-401 spaceship heaved a sigh. It had already been an hour since the ship was taken over by an unidentifiable group.

He wanted to check the situation outside, but the tuner's interference made it impossible.

"The Mars Defense Force? Still no contact?"

"No, even attempts to route through the emergency communication network aren't connecting."

It seemed they would have to go out and remove the source of the problem directly. But that was the worst option. The moment they opened the firmly locked door, the hostile group would rush into the bridge.

Fortunately, the bridge was designed to survive even if the spaceship exploded. Setting aside secondary concerns like oxygen, food, and gravity.

Meaning they were safe as long as they didn't open it.

"Still holding out?"

Suddenly, a boy's voice flowed through the speaker.

"That makes seven now. How many more passengers have to die before you're satisfied?"

"We don't negotiate with terrorists. Though, who knows? If you just restore communications to normal, we might be able to make a petition to the city government."

"Ah, right."

A scream followed the tone that suggested loss of interest.

Even without seeing it directly, he could guess what had happened, and his eyes squeezed shut.

"May future generations never forgive me."

Though another life had vanished in vain, Aion didn't yield. It was because of the space marshal's advice sent immediately after the incident broke out.

What they were after was—

"Unidentified object approaching."

At the operator's report, Aion rose from his seat, snapping out of his thoughts.

Simultaneously, a hologram appeared above the omnidirectional awareness panel.

Length 60 meters, displacement 80,000 tons, cruising speed 340,000 knots.

"Out-of-grade assessment, vessel not recorded in database."

A spaceship drifting outside Mars without an identification number?

Since this could only mean one thing, gasps escaped from the crew members' mouths.

What was approaching wasn't the Mars Defense Force.

'Space pirates?'