Chapter 16: So, You Aren’t Human Either

Seeing that Senior Ayu was already squaring off with the two aliens and had cornered them, Yuki no longer felt the urgency to join the fray. He simply took out his stun baton, held it firmly, and moved to the side, crouching down to pick up the controller—the one that had slipped from the hand of the man whom Senior Ayu had dispatched in a single blow.

He glanced at the crude screen, where the progress bar was still advancing.

Unhurried, Yuki examined the controller’s structure. There were only two physical buttons, their placement oddly deliberate: one at the top, the other on the right side.

The button at the top was taped over, as if to prevent accidental presses.

So Yuki tried pressing the red button on the right. There was a brief, electronic beep; the HUD screen’s numbers flickered and froze at 42%, and the progress bar ceased to rise.

Yuki exhaled in relief.

This controller was linking with the chip implanted in Little Dot’s brain. Their original plan was to activate the chip, complete the connection, and then remotely control Little Dot’s transformation into a giant, manipulating its movements.

After all, Little Dot had already been modified into a monster weapon. For a weapon, controllability was crucial; otherwise, it would only hinder on the battlefield.

Incidentally, those uncontrollable monsters that fought purely by instinct and feral impulse were mostly used to be dropped directly into enemy ranks, sowing chaos and trouble. Lacking much technical sophistication, their cost was usually quite low.

At this moment, a clamor broke out—the two aliens seemed to have finally made up their minds. Abandoning their leader, they grabbed their metal rods and charged at Ayu, howling.

Senior Ayu rolled his neck left and right, limbering up, clearly ready for the fight.

Yet, just as Ayu finished his warm-up and took a stance with his stun baton, the two aliens suddenly feinted—like a basketball player faking a move—and slipped past Ayu, darting through the gap he’d left.

The scene left Ayu stunned. He’d thought they were coming for a brawl, only to realize they were merely pretending to attack, aiming instead to escape, while he stood there foolishly posing. Frustrated, he spun around and shouted, “Yuki!”

“Out of the way!” the two Raichumians bellowed as well.

As their voices rang out, Yuki tucked the controller into his chest, his gaze sharpening. He seized the stun baton and charged forward.

The two Raichumians barely registered a blur before nearly simultaneously receiving a blow to their necks. They cried out in pain and collapsed to the floor like lifeless logs.

Ayu was struck dumb. If he hadn’t been mistaken, Yuki’s strike had been so swift that it even left a trailing afterimage in his vision.

Yuki, too, was surprised. He had acted as usual, but found his speed had unexpectedly increased—a sense of losing control, unable to brake. Since he couldn’t slow down, Yuki simply went with the momentum, striking the Raichumians down in quick succession, feeling his arm numb from the baton’s recoil.

He glanced at Senior Ayu, who was staring at him in shock, and felt a pang of guilt.

He guessed the cause—a recent increase in his attack speed stat. His speed had improved, and with it the impact of his blows, but his nerves and muscles hadn’t yet adapted to the new velocity. The high-speed attacks’ recoil placed extra strain on his body.

It was reminiscent of early Geed, when Riku couldn’t control his strength and would leap so high he’d crash into the ceiling.

Clearly, after increasing his stats, he’d need to practice on wooden dummies before heading into battle, lest he make a mess of things.

Yuki put away the stun baton, his gaze lingering on the two hapless figures on the ground, and then dialed Officer Sakura’s number, informing him that the three suspicious individuals had been subdued and could be taken in for questioning.

He looked up at Senior Ayu, who still hadn’t recovered from his shock, making Yuki even more uneasy. His hand slid into his pocket, his wrist brushing the Taiga Light Key to activate its screen for confirmation.

Was this boost really so dramatic? A single stat point shouldn’t raise attack speed by more than 0.2%, yet the effect seemed exaggerated. Was he being misled by the Arabic numerals on the interface—were they no longer the ultimate authority?

While Yuki pondered, Ayu approached with a grave expression, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret,” Ayu said.

A secret—what secret? That his attack speed was astonishing?

“I never imagined you were an alien, too, Yuki.”

Yuki was momentarily at a loss for words.

Come to think of it, he was an Earthling—and yet, wasn’t he also an ‘alien’? An indigenous ‘alien’ of Earth, so to speak. Why shouldn’t Earthlings be considered aliens? Was Earth somehow estranged from the universe?

Just then, for the first time, the words ‘Bond Value +1’ appeared above Ayu’s head. This provided a partial answer to Yuki’s earlier confusion. Their bond hadn’t deepened during their previous teamwork or combat, but now it had.

Yuki sensed a faint revelation.

The person with whom Senior Ayu truly shared a deep bond was Yuki—not the stranger who had recently inhabited this body. So, even though they had acted together, any increase in bond would apply to the former Yuki.

Unless.

Unless his actions refreshed Ayu’s perception of ‘Yuki’.

In Ayu’s subconscious, he would now distinguish between the current Yuki and the previous one. If Ayu thought, ‘This Yuki is different from before,’ then ‘different’ didn’t necessarily mean a change in old traits—it could mean new traits, new attributes, new perceptions.

Just as now, Ayu was looking at him with a mix of surprise and delight—who would have guessed that the thick-browed, upright Yuki was an alien, too!

For those struggling to survive as a minority on Earth, meeting a fellow in the same predicament was enough to make Ayu’s eyes shine with joy.