Chapter 204

"Scattered across the galaxy throughout every era... sounds like some bargain-bin urban legend to me. We had superstitions like that back on Earth, too. Some immortal Count or whatever."

Teiro figured Phantom probably wasn’t joking, but he couldn't help the look of pure "you’ve got to be kidding me" plastered across his face. In response, Phantom silently offered him a silver, palm-sized card.

"What’s this? Some kind of super-rare metal?"

The card was as blank as a fresh slab of tofu, but it shimmered with a weirdly oily, beautiful sheen when the light caught it.

"No, the metal itself is trash," Phantom said dismissively. "The paint is the special part. It reacts when you do... this."

Phantom peeled off the black glove he always wore and pinched the card between his thumb and index finger.

"Whoa, look at the text pop up! Is this like an ID card? Also, what the hell is 'Naraza'?"

The holographic name Naraza flickered into existence on the card’s surface. The moment Phantom let go, the letters vanished into the void.

"Naraza is the name of a mutual aid organization for Outsiders. Formally, it's the Naraza Association. It’s officially registered with the Galactic Empire, so literally anyone could look it up. We’ve got about eighty million members scattered across the stars. I think we’re celebrating our thousandth anniversary this year? We mostly just swap info, though we occasionally do volunteer work or run non-profits. Think of it as a support group for people society would rather pretend don't exist."

Phantom reached into a drawer and pulled out a handful of data chips. Teiro took them and quickly confirmed that the Naraza Association was, for all intents and purposes, just another ubiquitous, boring non-governmental organization.

"It looks... suspiciously normal," Teiro grumbled to himself. "But I guess that’s the point. This is your secret source of intel, isn't it?"

With eighty million spies—er, 'members'—scattered across the galaxy, Teiro realized you could probably find out anything from the best brand of space-coffee to the Emperor's favorite socks.

"Heh, effectively. Though members are strictly forbidden from doing anything that puts their own necks on the line. The worst-case scenario is the Association being branded a public enemy, after all. Obviously, I haven't leaked any Rising Sun secrets, nor do I plan to. I’d appreciate it if you believed me on that... though I might have mentioned a few general impressions that anyone with eyes could have figured out."

"I mean, sure, I believe you, but is info gathered that casually even worth anything?"

"Of course it is. For example, if you look at me as a source, anything regarding the RS Alliance or Rising Sun is a total no-go. Off-limits. But what if I had dirt on, say, EAP?"

"I get it. Corporate espionage within the 'safe' zone where it doesn't hurt us." Teiro crossed his arms, his brain gears finally turning. "But wait, that only works if the members are high-ranking enough to actually know things. Are you telling me eighty million people are all secret agents? I thought most of them were just Outsiders."

Phantom let out a soft chuckle.

"Hardly. Most are just your average salarymen. As for their positions... well, if you want access to sensitive info, you just work hard and get promoted, don't you? Use the legitimate channels to climb the ladder. Though, as you noted, that’s a bit of a tall order for your average Outsider. Most are too busy just trying not to starve."

"Right. But that’s a ridiculously long-term play... Ah, wait—"

Teiro waved a hand dismissively and slumped back into the sofa, the realization hitting him with a satisfying thud.

Wait, the guy who actually pulled that off is standing right in front of me.

"So that’s why you’ve been 'cooperating' with me. But there’s an exception to that 'only info that doesn't affect me' rule, isn't there?"

Teiro shot him a knowing look. Phantom closed his eyes and gave a small nod.

"If the information could negatively impact Outsiders as a whole, the gloves come off. As long as I don't compromise the organization, I’m allowed to go rogue."

Teiro pointed a triumphant finger at the ceiling. "So, in other words, you’ve been babysitting me?"

His tone was half-accusatory, half-probing. Phantom actually looked a little embarrassed for once.

"I didn't approach you only for that, but it was certainly on the list. Most Outsiders live in outer space, you know. For self-defense, we have to keep a very close watch on any rising powers."

Teiro nodded, satisfied. "Well, I guess I passed the test then? My head is still attached to my shoulders, at least."

Phantom shrugged, spreading his hands in a 'what can you do?' gesture.

"Give me a break. I knew the moment we met that you weren't on our assassination list. To be honest, I wasn't just watching you—I wanted to place a bet on your potential."

Teiro blinked. "Potential?"

"Exactly. You might not realize it, but a CEO who chases things like righteous indignation, justice, camaraderie, and philanthropy without looking at the bottom line is a rare specimen. Rarer still is one who doesn't treat Outsiders like dirt. The modern network is designed to ruthlessly accelerate natural selection; companies that talk about 'naivety' usually go extinct."

Phantom paused, then added, "Though things might be different now."

Teiro thought about the collapse of the Old Neural Network and the chaotic era of diversity that was surely coming.

"I don't think I'm that special... Back on Earth, my way of thinking was pretty much the standard. Probably."

"Oh? Well, that makes me even more excited for the future."

"Is that so? Wait... are you actually expecting something from Earth?"

"Of course. Based on your stories, every single person on Earth is an Outsider, right? A society built entirely by Outsiders. It sounds like a utopia to us. Even if they have to deal with BISHOP being OVERRIDDEN in the next generation, it’ll be a fascinating case study. Planet Nuke was... well, a bit of a half-baked attempt."

Phantom sounded genuinely disappointed. Teiro offered a wry smile and stuck out his hand. Phantom tilted his head, confused.

"I'm saying I look forward to working with you. That was a lot of bombshells, but it's not like Rising Sun is losing out. If anything, considering everything you've done for us, I think we're the ones in debt to Naraza."

Teiro waited, hand outstretched. Phantom stared at him blankly for a few seconds before finally cracking a smile and taking the hand.

"Good grief... you really are a 'good person.' I look forward to it too. However, it’s a bit early for handshakes."

Phantom used his free hand to pull his usual glove from his belt and started sliding it onto Teiro’s right hand. It was a heavy, high-tech mitten made of impact-reactive hardening material.

"What the heck is this for?" Teiro asked, squeezing the thick fabric.

"There is still one question you haven't asked," Phantom said flatly.

Teiro looked at him, then looked down at the floor.

"Yeah, I guess there is... Fine, I'll bite."

Teiro took a breath, wondering if he really wanted to pull this thread.

"Why did you have to tell me all this right now? I get the Coleman stuff, but the Naraza reveal makes no sense. It’s got a 'secret society' vibe—shouldn’t you have just kept it under your hat? You’ve been doing fine so far."

It was a simple question. Phantom didn't seem like the type to confess out of a guilty conscience, nor was he the type to waste time on small talk. There had to be a catch.

"...You should know, that glove is made of a material that hardens upon impact. Your hand might go a little numb, but you won't break your knuckles even if you punch a steel wall."

Phantom pointed at Teiro's hand. Teiro tilted his head, utterly lost, until Phantom spoke again.

"It’s to buy your sympathy, Master Teiro. And maybe a little threat for flavor. The Naraza Association wants to save that station, but a mutual aid group doesn't have that kind of muscle. We don't even own a single Warship... but you do."

Phantom narrowed his eyes. Teiro opened his mouth to tell him he’d already planned on doing it, so why the theatrics—

"Dr. Arzimof has calculated the approximate coordinates of Earth," Phantom interrupted.

Teiro froze.

"The data is highly credible. The research team concluded from the Nuke Ruins that the ships of that era couldn't use OVERDRIVE without extreme particle density. By cross-referencing the decay rate of DRIVE PARTICLES with the specs of the ship found on Nuke, they back-calculated a realistic flight path. All you have to do is follow the breadcrumbs."

Phantom shoved the table between them aside and stood up. "And one more thing."

"In a few moments, the Mercenaries are going to send a proposal. They’ll offer to lift the economic blockade and cancel the declaration of war if you agree to walk away from that station. They’re even willing to notarize the contract through the Imperial Military. It’s a legitimate deal. Realistically speaking, you should take it. You should abandon the station and focus entirely on finding Earth."

Phantom’s voice was a cold, emotionless void. Teiro processed this, stood up, and let out a long, weary sigh.

"I see. So if I take the deal, you’re screwed. That’s why you’re playing the 'villain' to get my sympathy and 'threaten' me into staying... Fine. Since you went to all the trouble of asking, I'll give you what you want. But don't expect a masterpiece; I haven't been in a real scrap in years."

Teiro wound up and punched Phantom right in the face. A sharp clink of hardening fabric meeting an iron chin echoed through the room. Phantom stumbled back a step. Teiro yanked the glove off his vibrating, numb hand and tossed it onto the sofa.

"I didn't need your little performance to know I’m not taking the Mercenaries' deal. Isn't a 'good person' someone who can't just ignore a mess like that?"

Teiro turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving Phantom to wipe a trickle of blood from his lip.

"Oh, Teiro! Are you done? You took forever... Wait, what happened?"

Marl was leaning against the wall with Koume, waiting for him. She took one look at his face and practically recoiled. "You look like you’ve swallowed a bag of nails!"

"I’m fine... just holding back a lot of crap," Teiro muttered, avoiding her eyes as he started walking. The girls scrambled to keep up. After a few paces of heavy silence, Teiro finally spoke.

"The Doctor found a lead on Earth. And the Mercenaries are about to offer us a peace deal if we ditch that station. Any sane person would take the deal, but Phantom practically begged me not to."

Teiro looked down, clutching his chest. Marl and Koume stayed quiet, sensing the storm.

"Like I wasn't going to do that anyway... But if we fight the Mercenaries, people are going to die. A lot of them. That idiot... he tried to make himself the bad guy so I could blame him for the guilt and responsibility I'm going to feel... Dammit, why is everyone around here so annoyingly kind?"

Teiro kicked the ground, furiously wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.