Chapter 19 - Your Kaiju Are Too Small:-Chapter 19: Sneak Attack!

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Inside the Shatterdome, every Jaeger had more than just its pilots—it came with an entire support team.

At mealtimes, these crews usually stuck together.

Around the long dining table for the Striker Eureka team, several mech technicians had already taken their seats, along with the Jaeger's other pilot: Chuck Hansen.

The younger Hansen was practically carved from the same mold as his father, though he looked younger, his features sharper. In his early twenties, he wore a fitted gray T-shirt.

His gaze landed on his father as Herc led the two newcomers over.

"Biggest perk of being on base? Three square meals a day." Herc set his tray down on the table, speaking casually to Natsuki and Raleigh.

"After all, you can't win fights on an empty stomach when you're piloting a Jaeger."

The three of them sat down.

Hearing his father's words, Chuck chimed in.

"We just won a fight yesterday. In Sydney."

When it came to his combat record, Chuck never missed a chance to boast.

"Category-Four Kaiju, codename Virus. Tore through that useless wall in under an hour. Echo Saber and Vulcan Specter couldn't handle it either."

"In the end, it was my Striker Eureka that took the beast down."

He flashed a grin, holding up both index fingers to form an X. "Number ten. We just broke our own record."

"We're 10-0 now."

As the most advanced Jaeger currently in service, Striker Eureka's combat record was nothing short of dazzling—ten deployments, ten kills, undefeated.

"That's impressive." Hearing that record, even Raleigh had to give him credit.

He twirled spaghetti onto his fork, offering genuine praise.

When Raleigh had been Chuck's age, he'd only taken down five Kaiju. Setting aside the kid's cocky attitude, that record really was worth acknowledging.

Natsuki kept his head down, focused on his meal. He listened but didn't respond.

Now that he'd gotten Raleigh talking, Chuck seized the opportunity to say what was really on his mind.

"Honestly, there's a reason that idiotic wall plan got approved in the first place." Chuck's gaze shifted to Raleigh, taking on an edge. "It's because there were too many useless Jaeger pilots. Made those UN idiots think all pilots were like that."

The Jaeger Program had started with the UN's full confidence, but as the number of scrapped mechs kept climbing, that trust evaporated.

Five years ago, the destruction of Gipsy Danger had been the final straw.

After that mission, the UN decided to push the Wall of Life initiative and cut off funding to Marshal Pentecost.

Hearing this, Raleigh's fork stopped midair. His expression darkened.

He got it now.

The kid was picking a fight.

The atmosphere suddenly grew tense.

"You disappeared for five whole years. What made you decide to come back now?" Chuck raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with mockery. "What, couldn't get enough to eat building that wall out there, Xiao Luo?"

That last bit—Xiao Luo—he'd deliberately said in Mandarin, mimicking the Crimson Typhoon pilots.

The provocation was thick enough to taste.

Faced with such blatant hostility, Raleigh—whose temperament had mellowed considerably over five years—didn't immediately fire back. Instead, he glanced at Herc.

Seeing the apology in the older Hansen's eyes, Raleigh weighed his options. After a brief pause, he gave a small nod.

He chose not to argue with the kid.

But seeing Raleigh stay silent only emboldened Chuck. He pressed his advantage, jabbing a finger toward Raleigh's face.

"I find it hard to believe some guy who's been drifting around for five years can still pilot a Jaeger."

"If you drag me down on the next mission, I guarantee you'll regret it."

Raleigh's jaw tightened. His grip on the fork unconsciously clenched, and a flicker of aggression entered his eyes.

Five years ago, with his old temper, he would've beaten this punk into the ground without a second thought.

But these five years had taught him to endure taunts like these.

Back at the construction site, foreman Miles and some of the workers constantly made him the butt of their jokes—it had practically become part of daily life.

Compared to them, Chuck's barbs weren't even that sharp.

Raleigh thought it over. Whatever else he was, this kid actually got in a Jaeger and fought Kaiju, saving countless lives. Plus, he owed Herc some respect. In the end, he swallowed his anger and kept his hands to himself.

"Fine." Seeing Raleigh still wouldn't bite, Chuck felt like he was punching cotton.

Provocation unsuccessful, he turned his attention to Natsuki, who was busy demolishing his meal.

In the span of two minutes, Natsuki had already cleared three plates. Now the food on his fourth plate was vanishing at chopstick-speed, disappearing into his mouth in a blur.

Damn, the guy looked skinny—how could he eat so much?

"You know what's even more baffling than bringing back some guy who's been gone for five years?" He shot a look at Natsuki, addressing the others at the table.

"What I can't wrap my head around is that our base now has an alien in it!"

"Good God, look what alien monsters have done to our planet! And now we've got an alien sitting right here among us like it's nothing?"

He turned fully toward Natsuki, gesturing accusingly. "They say this guy saved the Marshal's life?"

"I'm more inclined to think it's all part of his scheme—a ploy to infiltrate the base!"

"If you ask me, if an alien really wanted to help us, he should be lying on a lab table getting dissected and studied, not sitting here dressed like he's on vacation—"

Chuck's mouth ran like a Gatling gun, unleashing a torrent of vitriol at Natsuki, expressing his deep-seated hatred of aliens.

Herc opened his mouth to intervene.

But before he could, a round plate of mashed potatoes suddenly lifted off the table and—smack—slammed into Chuck's face.

"F—!"

"Wha—what the—?!"

The plate plastered to his face, stunning him completely.

He clawed at it with all his strength, trying to pry the metal dish off, but no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn't budge.

Sitting nearby, Natsuki calmly finished the last of his meal, his gaze still on his food—but his eyes now glowed faintly gold.

No question—this was Natsuki's doing.

"I really hate being interrupted while I'm eating," Natsuki said quietly, his tone flat.

The already tense atmosphere instantly escalated. The people around the table felt the temperature drop several degrees—literally.

"Damn—it!"

"Th—this is—a sneak—attack!" Chuck's voice squeezed out through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

The next second—

"I can't—breathe—!"

"Mmph—mmph!"

The mashed potatoes on the plate seemed to come alive, surging toward his throat and blocking his airway. He couldn't make a sound—only muffled, choking noises.

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