My Players Are So Fierce

It will record the various changes you go through next, and then you can leave this place.

When necessary, you’ll need to return to Base R-9 for a series of tests and follow-up enhancement procedures.

But I must remind you, Mr. Fraser, once that precious and dangerous Symbiotic Crystal entered your body, you gained, beyond your identity as a Mortal General, an additional identity and duty as part of the ‘creator faction’.

You have received power, and I hope you will use it properly.

If our information monitoring ever detects signs of you degenerating into a monster, then I will personally execute you on the grounds of staining the creator’s honor.

I hope you’ll keep that firmly in mind.”

“I get it!”

Fraser jumped down from the hospital bed.

That lithe movement was nothing like someone who had just crawled back from the gates of Hell; he was still so thin that a gust of wind could knock him over, yet even if Murphy only used his vampiric senses, he could easily perceive the terrifyingly abundant vitality now surging inside Fraser’s body.

He was definitely starving, needing to eat a huge amount to supply the energy consumption of organs that had been modified by the Symbiote.

Yet the guy still maintained his excellent manners and habits, trying hard to present himself as decent and polite. He very earnestly promised Murphy and Mosna:

“Many of my friends died in the wars driven by Dusk; my Guards and subordinates likewise fell in such disasters, and I myself almost stepped into Hell because of it. I know who the real enemy is! I also know how I should deal with them. I don’t know much about the legends of the creator, but now I bear the creator’s blessing. I promise I will resolutely fulfill His expectations for this world and His suppression and expulsion of evil. When my years of war are over, I will step into this eternal service. Only, for now, I must ask you two to allow me to withdraw for a while. My stomach is struggling, demanding more food—if I keep suppressing its craving, I fear it will launch a rebellion to seize control of my mind.”

Fraser touched his forehead somewhat awkwardly and said:

“You both know people do terrible things when they’re hungry. To be frank, I can even smell the scent on you and it makes me drool. Mr. Morphy, you really smell… delicious… sorry! Having that kind of thought is really too horrifying.”

“Then go eat. Your father will be coming over in a bit, and I’d like you to face him in decent shape.”

Murphy, with genuine understanding, patted Fraser on the shoulder.

The gesture made Fraser’s throat bob up and down, and in his eyes that hungry look of “brother, you smell so good” resurfaced, startling the Governor enough that he subconsciously stepped back. Then he saw Fraser accelerate and vanish down the corridor, rushing into the kitchen to wolf down food.

“His statement just now was a bit…”

Murphy looked back at Mosna and said:

“Has Fraser’s Spirit been twisted?”

“Calling it ‘guided’ might be more appropriate.”

Mosna explained softly:

“Because you personally purified the Symbiote into the form of a creation-tool, the part of its genetic design concerning absolute Loyalty to the creator has reactivated. During the fusion of Symbiote and host, it will naturally guide the host’s thinking to lean in that direction. From what we can see so far, the Brigadier General still retains clear thought and sanity, but his mind has indeed already taken on the shape of a qualified Creator’s Servant. So you need not doubt Mr. Fraser’s support for and steadfastness toward the creator’s cause. He cannot resist the ‘mental steel seal’ imprinted upon his soul. Alas, the creator Himself does not demand such Loyalty from His children, yet the researchers of the Eden District could not free themselves from convention. They wrote this obedience into the genes of creations just like the mental shaping of the Wolf People. From this alone you can tell that Project No. 27 was not evil in its initial intent; the only pity is how the experiment ultimately ran out of control.”

“Then what about the feasibility of using this kind of Symbiote for organ-enhancement trials?”

Murphy asked while taking off his sterile protective suit:

“Has Old Flynn’s research made any breakthroughs?”

“Allow me to answer that, Governor.”

He Lu, wearing laser-eye-style glasses, spoke softly:

“Our mentor has already collected valuable data. Although, due to the Brigadier General’s weakness and the Symbiote’s interference, we weren’t able to complete the transplants of the Burning Eye and the Ear of Hess, the mentor is certain that the Brigadier General’s vital signs are now entirely sufficient for multiple organ modifications. The supercharged immune system brought by the Symbiote can also prevent a series of life-threatening rejection reactions. Thus we can conclude that the blueprint for the ‘Creator War General’ you laid out for us is now close at hand. As long as we obtain enough Symbiotic Crystals, we can, in the name of the creator, forge for our faction true ‘Super Soldiers’ in every sense of the word!”

“Excellent, that’s exactly what I was hoping to see.”

Murphy nodded with satisfaction and said:

“It seems that after turning the ‘Feast of Mad Fish’ into a permanent event, we’ll need to add another heavyweight ‘hidden reward’ to subsequent operations—making the hunt for the Daguan Holy Child and the search for polluted Symbiotes the covert main storyline. That way, the Mermaid Sisters can gain peace, and we can obtain precious ‘gene seeds’. Mm, we’ll call this one a win-win!”