"So you're Ikoma?"
In the dimly lit prison cell, footsteps approached as a black-clad man stopped outside, observing the gray-green-haired youth within.
Ikoma exchanged glances with Mumei before nodding. "That's me."
"Come out."
"May I ask where we're going?"
The black-clad man gave him an impassive look. "The base commander's office. Senior Director Addison wants to see you."
"I... alright."
Though surprised, Ikoma nodded and stepped out, patting Mumei's shoulder reassuringly as he passed. Only Amatori Biba remained frowning, lost in thought.
"Ikoma..." Mumei bit her lip hard as she watched his retreating figure, her heart filled with self-loathing at her own helplessness. "Brother was right sometimes. If only I were strong enough now, I could take them away from here."
Ikoma followed the black-clad man down a long, dark corridor. When they emerged from the prison gates, blinding sunlight forced him to squint until his eyes adjusted.
Along the way, he saw squads of Army soldiers and black-clad figures occasionally darting past with blurred speed. But what dominated the view were rows of exquisite wooden buildings topped with unfamiliar flags—white backgrounds featuring five black circles connected by a cross pattern.
What could they represent?
With this question in mind, Ikoma was led to the tallest building at the center. In the top-floor office, he met Senior Director Addison.
"Please, have a seat."
Addison smiled genially from behind the desk. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee perhaps? Oh wait, you'd prefer tea, wouldn't you?"
"I—"
Before the flustered Ikoma could decline, Addison had already instructed his secretary outside: "Get him some matcha."
"Right away."
Ikoma found himself at a loss—this man was overwhelmingly assertive. But his attention soon fixed on a yellow object on the desk.
"This is..."
"Indeed," Addison chuckled. "This is precisely why I summoned you. Could you explain it? My subordinates tell me its firepower is extraordinary—it can pierce through three stacked Kabane chests simultaneously."
The Senior Director smiled while inwardly marveling: This rivals anti-materiel rifles. How can a steam weapon be this absurd?
After a hesitant pause, Ikoma decided to explain: "When ordinary steam guns couldn't penetrate the Kabane's Heart Membrane, my friend Takumi and I developed this more penetrative and impactful 'Piercing Gun.'"
"'Piercing Gun'?"
"Yes. Essentially, we modified the Steam Rifle's ammunition. We discovered that when gunpowder explosions hit metal plates, they create a metal jet phenomenon. Based on this, I invented a special warhead that generates metal jets—I call them 'Jet-Stream Projectiles.'"
As Ikoma spoke, his excitement grew, his voice rising with pride as if presenting his masterpiece.
"Because we're just station maintenance workers and couldn't get our hands on proper steam rifles, I modified the firing mechanism of a rivet gun to shoot 'jet-stream projectiles'—I call it the 'Piercing Gun'!"
After hearing this, Senior Manager Addison's gaze toward Ikoma changed completely, no longer viewing him as just an ordinary Kabaneri test subject.
"It seems you have considerable talent in weapon development, especially in bullet modifications. Congratulations, you've proven your worth. Now please review this document."
He pulled out a relatively thin file from his drawer and placed it before Ikoma, who picked it up with confusion and began reading.
As he read, the expression of this 'world's protagonist' grew increasingly shocked, his pupils contracting violently.
"Another world... World Government..."
To be honest, the content wasn't extensive, yet he reread it several times. Senior Manager Addison didn't rush him, patiently waiting for him to process the information.
After a while.
"Sorry, I've finished." Ikoma set down the document, though his voice still trembled.
Addison looked at him in surprise. "Calmed down so quickly? You really are research material. It's just your Kabaneri body that's problematic."
After all, the Academy of Science couldn't possibly accept a researcher who might suddenly crave human blood, could they?
Ikoma smiled bitterly. "I'm also trying to find a way to turn myself back into a human. Mumei too..."
"You want to return to being normal?"
"Isn't having a superhuman body advantageous?" Addison teased.
"No, I just want to become human again with Mumei, no matter what!" Ikoma raised his head with determination.
"That might not be impossible. The key is whether you're worth it."
These meaningful words filled Ikoma with sudden hope. He quickly asked, "You have a way to turn me back to normal?"
"Right! You're from another world—maybe you really have some special method!"
Senior Manager Addison spread his hands and smiled. "You misunderstand. Our world might have solutions, but the possibility I mentioned actually comes from your own world's creation—it just happens to be in our possession now."
"What?!" Ikoma was stunned.
"Remember Dr. Shoei who came with you? His invention, 'White Plasma,' is a serum that effectively eliminates the Kabane Virus."
"It's said that for ordinary Kabaneri like you, one dose has a 50-60% chance of fully restoring you to normal. However, there are only two vials of it."
Hearing this, Ikoma sprang to his feet, looking at Addison with excitement. "That's perfect for Mumei and me! Please, you must let us become human again!"
He pressed his palms together and bowed deeply with utmost sincerity, but Senior Manager Addison remained unmoved, calmly observing him.
"Why should we?"
"Huh?"
"Can you explain why we should use our only two precious vials of serum on you?"
"Well..."
Ikoma was at a loss, growing increasingly anxious. He hurriedly asked, "Is there anything I can do?"
"Now we're talking."
Senior Director Addison nodded in satisfaction. "Don't think about taking without giving anything in return. Instead, consider what you can offer to gain something."
"Please advise me!"
"Right now, you clearly have nothing to exchange for 'White Plasma.' But you can work for us—for example, by manufacturing the 'Jet-Stream Projectile' you mentioned. Moreover, you'll need to modify it so that ordinary firearms can also use it. You might even figure out how to develop a larger 'Jet-Stream Armor-Piercing Shell'!"
Senior Director Addison let his imagination run wild, outlining potential research directions for Ikoma, who listened in stunned silence.
"As long as you demonstrate sufficient value in this field, you'll have the opportunity to apply for a 'White Plasma' injection. By then, perhaps the Biochemical Research Institute will have achieved mass production of 'White Plasma.'"
"So, what do you say? Will you accept?"
But Ikoma hesitated and asked, "Are the 'Jet-Stream Projectile' and the 'Jet-Stream Shell' you just mentioned meant to be used against Kabane... or also to kill people?"
"Is there a difference?" Senior Director Addison looked at him, puzzled.
"I'm sorry... I don't want to kill people. I don't want the things I create to be used for killing either." Ikoma lowered his head, clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth, gripping his pants tightly.
His words, however, caused the former's expression to turn cold.
"Oh, is that so?"
"Then go back to your cell and think it over. Come back when you've changed your mind!"