Bermuda

The commanders, including Liner Molten, Commander of the 9th Battalion, gathered once again at the center for the hastily convened meeting. Liner appeared much calmer than before, perhaps because the short break had steadied him.

However, upon hearing the investigator’s briefing, he frowned again in disbelief at the results and asked,

“If there are matching traits between different species, does that mean interspecies mating is possible for ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) monsters?”

“Hm, unlike animals, monsters can willingly engage in interspecies mating, and they can indeed reproduce naturally. But they usually don’t bother unless under special circumstances. In this case as well, the possibility of interspecies mating among monsters is considered low.”

“What’s the reason?”

“It’s because while some monsters are capable of interspecies mating, others are not. A typical example is the Worm...”

The assistant investigators quickly brought out a diagram of the Worm’s reproductive organs and fixed it on a stand. The chief investigator pointed at it and continued,

“As shown here, the Worm’s reproductive structure is completely different from other monsters. Therefore, mating is only possible within its own species. However, among the recently discovered mutants, one individual was found that possessed both the Worm’s adhesion function and the unique traits of other monsters.”

Liner, who had been listening intently, narrowed his eyes. The investigator flipped to another page on the stand and went on,

“In other words, rather than saying a Worm and another monster species mated and produced a mutant, it would be more accurate to say that there is some species—or individual—on this peninsula that carries both Worm traits and those of other monsters, and the mutants were born from that origin.”

At this, the commanders stirred. Flynn quietly observed them, waiting for his turn to ask the question he had been holding back, recalling his earlier conversation with Leonardo.

When Hugo lightly tapped him on the shoulder, Flynn glanced back once, then quickly raised his hand and asked the investigator,

“Investigator, what about the monsters originally known to inhabit the peninsula, not the mutant individuals? For instance, monsters like the Dermocas or Ilaptors. Do they also share matching traits?”

“Ah, I was just about to mention that.”

The chief investigator, who had nearly been overwhelmed by Liner’s questions, seemed relieved by Flynn’s. He picked up a sample beside him, showed it to the commanders, and explained,

“First, before I explain the matching of traits, I should note that the results differ because of changes in research methods between the previous study and this one. The earlier research examined only one or two randomly selected individuals from the monsters long known to inhabit the peninsula.”

Flynn recalled reading something similar in the earlier report. That study had been limited by a much smaller number of specimens, which had made its results unreliable. The investigator’s next words mirrored that thought.

“Back then, the traits and components appeared so different that no connection was found, and the conclusion was that there was almost no correlation. But in this study, the number of specimens was greatly increased, and the results revealed a definite pattern in the genetic trait matching of existing individuals.”

“A pattern?”

“Yes. The older the individual and the fewer generations of reproduction it has undergone, the more similar its traits are to those of other species.”

The investigator took a sip of water and continued.

“Our investigators speculate that this difference comes from the older individuals reproducing only within their own species for many years, developing unique genetic traits to adapt to the peninsula’s environment. The younger the individual, the more pronounced these unique traits became, creating sharper differences. That’s why in the past, it was thought there were almost no cases of trait-matching across species.”

“...”

“However, conversely, the closer to first-generation and the older the individual, the more shared traits were found with other species, which was confirmed this time by the large number of specimens collected. And this applies not only to the Dermocas and Ilaptors Deputy Flynn asked about, but to all monster species discovered on the peninsula so far.”

In short, the investigator’s words meant that the further back the generations, the greater the similarity between monsters—suggesting that all monsters originally inhabiting the peninsula once shared common genetic traits.

Hugo organized the explanation in his mind and shifted his gaze to the document in his hand.

Leonardo had said he had visited the Elder Millie Peninsula before. He had known the native individuals better than anyone, yet even he seemed to know little about the mutants. This meant the mutant individuals now appearing had likely not existed when Leonardo last came here.

If that visit had been about five years ago, then the new mutants must have begun emerging within the last five years—quite recently.

Moreover, high-ranking monsters were generally known to live at least twenty years, barring outside interference. They became capable of reproduction after about ten percent of their lifespan and remained fertile until seventy percent. Taking this into account...

Hugo closed the document, handed it back to the investigator, and said,

“To summarize, the monsters on this peninsula all share the same bloodline, which is why some genetic traits match. And there is a possibility that a progenitor—or a group of breeding individuals—responsible for them until recently is still somewhere on this peninsula.”

At Hugo’s words, silence fell. The investigator broke it as he received the document back.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Flynn’s mouth slowly fell open at the exchange. The other commanders were the same. And in that moment, a possibility dawned on them.

The reproductive methods of monsters were highly diverse, so it wasn’t a perfect solution, but if they could locate the individual carrying all the genetic traits, they might find a new strategy for subjugation—one that could drastically shorten the endless campaign against the swamp of monsters.

As the commanders murmured about this possibility, Charlotte, deputy commander of the 9th Battalion, who had been quietly observing, glanced at the eggshells gathered in the corner and raised a question.

“As a result of the subjugations so far, a food chain has clearly been established among the monsters of the peninsula. But based on what we’ve just discussed, even if they share the same bloodline, they still prey on each other...”

She stepped forward, pointed to the shells, and continued,

“Then why would the Dermocas, at the very top of the food chain, try to protect an egg that doesn’t even perfectly match their own species—instead of simply eating it? What exactly is that egg, that it made them act this way?”

At her words, Hugo and Flynn immediately paid attention. It was a question they had not yet received a clear answer to.

As all eyes turned to him, the chief investigator hesitated, falling briefly into thought, before carefully voicing his view.

“In the current situation, I can’t say for certain what the egg is. But if I were forced to define it, I would say the individual inside the egg has not yet been determined to become anything—that is the closest answer.”

At those cryptic words, Charlotte frowned in confusion and asked,

“What does that mean?”

“This egg had a slightly different nature from typical monster eggs.”

He gestured, and an assistant investigator brought over a cross-section specimen of the egg Charlotte had recovered, cut in half and preserved. In the center, something white was fixed in place, also cut in half.

“Looking at the cross-section, you can see this egg is much larger than others, and the shell is extremely thick. Its surface is also unusually hard, clearly to protect the embryo inside more securely. While all monster eggs serve a protective function, this egg’s hardness is in a league of its own.”

Flynn was inwardly astonished at the thickness as he examined the cut shell. It seemed difficult to pierce even with great force.

And if it were truly a Dermocas egg, the body at the center should have been dark in color, similar to their skin. But what they saw now was almost white, with a form quite unlike it.

“The transparent layer beneath the shell is the mucous substance, hardened into specimen form. It is slightly acidic, though not enough to dissolve human skin.”

The investigator pressed litmus paper against it; the small trace of liquid on the surface turned the paper red.

“This layer likely protects the embryo from bacteria, but more importantly, it contains condensed high-grade nutrients. In other words, the embryo inside this egg was receiving protection and nourishment of a completely different order compared to other monster offspring.”

After finishing the long explanation, the chief investigator drew a breath and added,

“Perhaps the reason the Dermocas tried to protect this egg is because the individual inside is the next progenitor.”

“...The next progenitor?”

“Yes. Usually, when creating the next progenitor—”

Boom—!

At that moment, a massive roar echoed from beyond several ridges. Though far away, the sound rolled quickly through the air, making everyone turn toward its source.

They saw a hazy cloud of dust rising as if a landslide had struck a distant peak. Since ominous signs like this had preceded the Dermocas horde a few hours ago, the commanders tensed, wondering if it was happening again.

Flynn, startled, gauged the location of the rising dust and muttered,

“The 1st Battalion should be over there...”

At the mention of the 1st Battalion, Hugo’s eyes widened slightly.

As the sounds of earth sliding and cliffs collapsing followed one after another, Hugo’s face hardened coldly. The ominous feeling that rose within him evoked a single name.

“...Leonardo.”

Flynn, hearing that faintly spoken name carried on a breeze, turned toward where Hugo should have been standing.

But with a puzzled face, he looked around.

“Commander?”

Hugo, who had been right beside him only moments ago, was gone.

Liner, commander of the 9th Battalion, who also sensed the strangeness, had been looking toward the roar but turned to call to the Council Commander.

“Council Commander, support—”

His eyes met Flynn’s, who was still searching, and he cut himself off.

The Commander had already vanished.