"Cory has also been sacrificed."
The Predator Gus reported in a subdued tone to the Predator Elder.
"That human... displayed instantaneous movement. He crossed a long distance and killed Cory in a single strike."
"Instantaneous movement..." The Predator Elder fell silent, thinking.
He wasn't surprised that Morin had killed a Predator in one blow.
From the way Morin had toyed with Ike earlier, it was already clear that his strength posed a crushing threat to ordinary Predators.
What truly concerned him was the nature of that movement.
"Did you detect any high-energy reaction?"
"No," Gus replied.
"That means the jump-like movement wasn't caused by high-tech equipment," the Elder said slowly. "It's an innate ability. One related to space itself."
Based on the information so far, the Predator Elder analyzed Morin's abilities.
In his eyes, Morin was already extremely dangerous.
But now, his threat level had far exceeded expectations.
At first, upon realizing Morin's power, he had ordered Gus to remotely detonate the miniature computer, intending to end things directly rather than sending more warriors to die.
Hypocritical, perhaps.
But as long as he didn't think of it that way, it wasn't.
What he hadn't expected was this.
Not only did Morin survive, he completely neutralized their final trump card-the miniature computer with nuclear-level destructive power.
"So before, he likely used that same ability to send the miniature computer outside our monitoring range before detonation," the Predator Elder said grimly.
"This is becoming troublesome."
"If he can continue using that ability, we have no way to deal with him."
Gus hesitated, then spoke. "Should we recall the other Predators for now?"
"No." The Predator Elder shook his head. "A Predator never retreats. Not even before a powerful enemy."
"Equip them."
"This is no longer a hunt. It's a battle."
"Search the database. All humanoid species with spatial abilities."
"Yes!" Gus responded.
Moments later, every Predator glanced at the multifunctional miniature computer on their wrist.
A new directive appeared.
[Mission temporarily suspended.]
[New mission assigned to all members: Powerful Enemy.]
[This enemy does not follow the warrior code. He will use all means, including humiliation of our warriors.]
[To ensure a fair battle, all Predators are authorized to receive high-grade weapon support.]
Below the message were coordinates.
Equipment drop locations.
Predators were not limited to melee weapons.
As an advanced civilization, they possessed high-tech arms.
However, during hunts or coming-of-age rituals, such weapons were forbidden until a Predator proved their worth. Otherwise, bravery could not be demonstrated.
The issued weapons were not top-tier.
Shoulder-mounted plasma casters.
Plasma pistols.
Laser designators.
The plasma caster had appeared in Alien vs. Predator. It could instantly kill an Alien, but required lock-on and charge time, making it far from decisive.
Along with the equipment data, the Predators also received holographic footage.
Recordings of Morin killing two of their warriors.
The purpose was clear.
Understand his attack methods.
...
That understanding was nearly useless.
After the second kill, Morin's methods became brutally simple.
Speed.
In martial combat, nothing is unbreakable-only something that can't be outrun.
If you can't even see him move, how do you fight back?
They could only rely on technology to bridge the gap.
After killing the second Predator, Morin didn't immediately move on.
He dealt with the corpse.
He had no habit of respecting enemies.
But this was a corpse that could explode.
Few people in Umbrella Corporation were innocent.
But the miniature nuclear device carried by the Predator was too dangerous.
And the base was underground.
A detonation here would cause catastrophic collapse.
Radiation.
Heat.
Pressure.
Toxic gas.
And the countless viruses stored within Umbrella.
Though, in that situation, the viruses would likely be annihilated.
Most Umbrella research facilities had cities above them.
Morin wasn't a saint.
But he wasn't cruel either.
In this situation, saving lives was the obvious choice.
He wouldn't leave millions of lives in the hands of Predators-especially when Predators viewed humans as slaves.
So Morin removed the miniature computer from the corpse and stored it in his system space.
A different space.
Signal completely cut.
Remote detonation was impossible.
Just in case there was a "loss-of-control self-destruct" protocol, Morin inspected it briefly.
Then realized how pointless that was.
His system space was time-stopped.
To test it, he'd need another world.
He wasn't in a hurry.
As for the corpse itself, it didn't receive the same treatment.
Morin had mild germaphobia.
He hid it somewhere the Red Queen could manage.
Before leaving, he placed a timed briefcase nuclear bomb.
It was New Year's.
Since he'd come, and since they were still "kids"...
Not bringing a gift would be rude.
Not leaving one would be worse.
Morin was very polite.
This wasn't hypocrisy.
A protagonist's actions can't be called hypocrisy.
He set the timer so detonation would only occur after the Red Queen evacuated the city and surrounding areas.
A grand fireworks display.
He didn't rush the process.
So when he used Instantaneous Movement again and arrived at another branch facility-
He froze.
He understood everything.
Except one thing.
Why was that Predator crouched with its butt in the air?
Morin stared.
Then realized.
It wasn't a king's ♂ invitation.
It was inspecting an airdropped equipment crate.
Morin exhaled in relief.
For a moment, he'd seriously wondered if Predators had some bizarre surrender custom.
Morin had arrived in stealth mode.
The Predator hadn't noticed him.
It was excitedly equipping itself.
Morin stepped closer, curiosity briefly winning out.
Then he stabbed it in the back.
Main reason?
Language barrier.
Otherwise, a conversation like-
"What are you doing?"
"Installing weapons."
"What for?"
"To deal with that enemy-wait, you're-RGH!"
-might have been entertaining.
The outcome wouldn't change.
TRIPLE KILL!
After repeating the process-removing the miniature computer, hiding the body, planting the bomb-
Morin continued.
For the Predators, this became a death cycle.
Each completed cycle meant one more dead.
QUADRA KILL!
PENTA KILL!
...
LEGENDARY!
While Morin was thoroughly enjoying himself, the Predator Elder finally couldn't remain seated.
Or rather, the constant glances from the others forced him to move.
Anyone with eyes could see it.
In Morin's hands, the Predators were helpless.
Like livestock awaiting slaughter.
Their reliance on high-tech weapons had failed.
Well.
Not completely.
The laser grid forced Morin to change tactics.
From stabbing...
to throwing.
That was all.
And every time a Predator died, the miniature computer vanished with the corpse.
Remote detonation was impossible.
"Did you find anything?" the Elder asked Gus.
"No matching data," Gus replied.
"But if we broaden the parameters... there is one."
"What?"
"Space Ancient Beast."
The Predator Elder fell silent.
"...Are you calling me blind? Or stupid?"
"The juvenile form of a Space Ancient Beast is larger than this planet. It's a myth. How could it look human?"
"I apologize!" Gus bowed in panic.
"Forget it." The Elder waved him off.
Anger solved nothing.
"Our homeworld is too far," the Elder said thoughtfully. "Requesting direct reinforcement would damage my reputation..."
Unlike younger warriors, the Predator Elder was calm.
He understood the value of life.
Those who had walked the line between life and death always did.
Naturally, his own life was the most valuable.
Which was why he had no intention of personally entering the battlefield.
To be honest, after observing Morin, he wasn't confident.
Even if he fought, he would only last slightly longer.
Experience.
Better physique.
Better equipment.
That was it.
And there was a rule.
If the Elder hadn't fought, he couldn't send a distress signal.
Predator culture revered unreserved combat.
Until the strongest fought, everything was considered reserved.
And he didn't want to die.
Deep down, he felt that if he went, he wouldn't return.
"...What if I shift the problem to someone else?"
The thought surfaced.
He didn't know that Morin couldn't teleport onto their ship.
In his mind, Morin could do it.
He was just choosing to eliminate all Predators on Earth first.
In reality, Morin couldn't.
Teleportation required precise coordinates.
Only the first world entry allowed vague targeting.
After that, every jump required exact time and location.
The stealth battleship was constantly moving.
Unobservable.
Untouchable.
So teleportation was impossible.
"This is Interstellar Federation territory, correct?" the Elder asked.
"Yes," Gus replied. "It was incorporated a hundred years ago."
"Then it's inappropriate for us to act here," the Elder said after a pause.
"This human-this human-like creature-is likely a new species. Closely tied to the natives."
"Since this is not our jurisdiction, Interstellar Law dictates we lack authority."
Gus fell silent.
The logic sounded flawless.
Yet... something felt off.
"Our last visit was two thousand years ago," the Elder continued. "We returned to erase our influence, since the planet is no longer uninhabited."
"But accidents occurred. Heavy losses."
"Let the rulers of this place handle it."
"Notify the Interstellar Federation. No-I'll explain personally."
Cowardice?
Of course not.
This was compliance with the law.
There was merely a procedural oversight earlier.
A minor one.
Now a problem had arisen.
He had no choice.
He was simply obeying the law.
Following the guidance of his righteous heart.
In short-
Being cautious.
The Predator Elder nodded to himself, fully convinced.
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