The next morning, the Sperm Whale greeted a quiet dawn.
However, my rest was short-lived.
"President, do you have a minute? I’ve got... a serious problem to discuss."
Mina, dressed in her grease-stained jumpsuit, approached me while I was sipping my morning coffee. Her expression was unusually grim, and she was white-knuckling a data pad.
"...It’s about the Pumpkin in the Engine Room."
Mina furrowed her brows and turned the pad's screen toward me. Displayed there were jagged red graphs and a scrolling wall of warning alerts.
"The current setup has reached its limit. The I/O bandwidth is completely saturated. If we leave it like this, we're looking at more than just processing lag—it might suffer a total system collapse."
"I will provide supplementary details, Master."
Lucia, standing by my side, deployed a holographic window.
"The Bio-core’s calculation domain has expanded by over 400% compared to its initial connection state. This is due to a confluence of factors: the accumulation of learning data from drone control, the influx of emotional parameters from managing background processing, and further activation triggered by last night’s Star Tuna dish. Together, these have caused the neural network to undergo physical growth."
"Physical growth?" I repeated, skeptical.
We headed down to the Engine Room. What I saw there was the unmistakable sight of a Cyber Pumpkin that was "leveling up" in the most literal sense.
It was still housed in the Circulating Culture Medium Tank that Professor Stein had brought aboard, but now, thickened vines were pressing against the inner walls of the tank, expanding outward. Green pulses of light throbbed through them like powerful, rhythmic veins. The bundle of cables for the temporary socket extending to the console was radiating heat, seemingly screaming under the strain.
"...I see. Even the Professor’s tank has become a cramped cage for it."
"Yeah. That thing was only meant for 'preservation.' The circulation pump doesn't have the capacity to keep it running at full power as a processor. It needs a dedicated environment—something deeper and wider."
Mina reached out, stroking the glass of the tank worriedly.
"Is there a solution?" I asked.
"When I was hunting for parts to dismantle the Star Tuna eyeball, I saw a shop that might have what we need. If it’s still there, they should have equipment that’s perfect for this kid."
"How much?" I asked bluntly.
My current balance, including my recent earnings, sat at roughly two million credits.
"...It depends on the quality, but if we find a good used unit, I think we can get it for about 600,000 credits."
"I see."
I crossed my arms. It wasn't a small sum. Considering the reserve funds we needed for the journey ahead, it was a painful hit to the wallet. However, it wasn't an impossible price to pay.
"It’s an investment in the ship’s specs. Besides..." I stared at the Pumpkin. The thing wasn't just a component anymore. It was a comrade that used drones to beg for food and supported our journey. "This is a crew welfare expense. It’s already a member of this ship's crew, after all."
"Really?! Thank you, President!" Mina’s face brightened instantly.
We headed back out into the Oasis market. This time, we skipped the food stalls and headed for "Cyber Street," where electronic components and junk parts were piled in mountain-high stacks.
The Professor and Emulgand had their own business to attend to and were acting separately.
The data storage technology of this world differed slightly from the common sense of my previous life. The mainstream tech utilized "Data Crystals"—crystalline structures that recorded information three-dimensionally as light interference patterns. Compared to electrical recording devices, they had massive capacity and were capable of semi-permanent preservation.
However, we were looking for something far more specialized.
"There. That’s the one."
Mina stopped. She was looking at a black mass of iron that sat apart from the surrounding junk, exuding an aura of heavy, mechanical pressure.
A Liquid Memory Multi-purpose Calculation Tank.
It stood two meters high and a meter and a half wide. Its chassis was covered in matte black armor plating, marked by the scarred spots where management codes had been scraped away. Through the thick, reinforced glass on the front, I could see a sluggish, dark green liquid. Rather than a piece of server room equipment, it looked like something out of the back room of a high-tech aquarium.
"Liquid Memory... Is the fluid itself the storage medium?"
As I peered into the tank, the dark green liquid shimmered, seemingly drawing my gaze into its depths. It wasn't just water; it had the luster of heavy oil and a distinct, biological viscosity.
"Yeah. It’s a mixture of a special Ferroelectric Liquid Crystal and a Conductive Polymer. It’s a Fluidic Element with self-organizing functions."
Mina placed her hand on the glass and began explaining with rapid-fire speed. Her "craftsman switch" had been flipped—her usual shyness replaced by the focused intensity of a professional.
"Normal Crystal Memory burns data into physically fixed circuits, right? But that Pumpkin is constantly growing and rewriting its own circuits. A fixed vessel just can't keep up with that level of change."
Mina’s hand moved through the air as if tracing a complex schematic.
"But this is different. The molecular arrangement within the liquid itself becomes the circuit and the memory. No matter how the Pumpkin’s electronic nerves grow, the conductive liquid fills the gaps, maintaining an optimal connection at all times."
I see. A monster that kept growing needed a liquid vessel that could change shape to match. To me, it looked like an eerie pool of sludge, but to the Pumpkin, it would be the ultimate amniotic fluid.
However, the numbers on the price tag were well over our budget. Or so I thought, until—
"...Terrible treatment," Mina whispered, her voice low and dangerous.
She pointed to the side of the chassis. There were jagged marks where thick pipes and cables had been forcibly severed, likely with a blade. The cross-sections were melted and carbonized.
"This wasn't decommissioned properly. It was burned off with a plasma torch. The fixing arms were twisted off, and the base frame is buckled."
Mina’s eyes narrowed into slits. It was the look of a master craftsman who had just witnessed an unforgivable crime against machinery.
"This was ripped out of a sunken warship or a scrapped vessel, wasn't it? This is the work of a looter."
At those words, the shopkeeper emerged from the shadows of the store, his face pale and startled.
"H-Hey, watch your mouth! This thing was... it was procured from a legitimate recycler!"
"A recycler? Since when do recyclers destroy connection ports like this?" Mina cornered him relentlessly. "The main bus board probably has cracks because of this. I bet the airtightness is shot, too. To fix this, I’ll have to strip it to the frame and redo the welding. Considering the labor costs, this is practically scrap metal."
"Guh... S-Still, the liquid inside is pristine! This is a military-grade, high-end model!"
"400,000. I’m not paying a credit more. By the time I fix it, I’ll barely be breaking even."
"4-400,000?! Look at the original retail price! Give me at least 800,000..."
"600,000. That's my final offer. If you don't like it, we'll walk."
"...Tch, fine! Just take the damn thing!"
In the end, we secured the purchase for 600,000 credits. The potential of the unit was high, but it would take a massive amount of work to bring it back to life. Then again, with Mina’s skills, she’d likely have it running better than a new model. We arranged for a delivery drone and left the shop, feeling quite satisfied with our haul.
Back on the ship, the installation began immediately.
We cleared a corner of the Engine Room, straightened the warped frame, and reconnected the severed pipes. It took an entire day to repair and set up the Liquid Memory tank, but we eventually got it into shape. Once the power and cooling lines were secured, we filled the tank with an eerie green solution used for replenishment.
"Alright, starting the transplant. Lucia, synchronize the system backup."
"Link established. Maintaining consciousness-level synchronization while I switch the physical connections."
Mina lifted the Pumpkin with steady, reverent hands. The roots pulled from the Professor’s culture tank—a mass of fibers where electronic terminals and plant matter had fused—wriggled slowly in the air. She immersed them into the dark green sea of the Liquid Memory tank.
She didn't use a temporary socket this time. She connected the custom-built cables one by one, her movements precise. The Pumpkin sank into the solution, its roots spreading out through the viscous liquid.
In that instant, the indicators on the black chassis flared to life, glowing a vibrant green.
『——<<CONNECTION>>...<<SECTOR EXPANDED>>...<<COMFORTABLE>>!!』
A digital roar of joy echoed through the Engine Room speakers. The Pumpkin’s flickering pulse became stronger and more rhythmic than ever before. Bubbles rose through the solution as the data processing speed began to climb.
"Yeah... processing efficiency is up by several percent. It’s not a total overhaul, but the bottleneck is gone. We can stably process Lucia’s emotional data now, and the risk of a system collapse is zero."
Mina let out a long sigh of relief, her eyes fixed on the monitor. The previously strained resources now had breathing room, and the ship's entire system felt a little more responsive.
"Good work. That’s another upgrade for the Sperm Whale."
I looked up at the Pumpkin, which was now glowing with an eerie, beautiful light inside its tank. It was a strange sight, but it seemed to fit the ship perfectly.
Now that its living conditions were settled, it was finally time for us to depart.
Technical chapters take a while because I can't rely as much on my own knowledge for feedback. Please enjoy the atmosphere! If I only did food chapters, I'd run out of menus to cook...
If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a "★"! It might just help Akito's dinner get a little upgrade tomorrow. Thank you!