Chapter 1447
Durban: Forgetting one's roots!
For Frederick the Great and Musashi, it was a feast.
For Choi Myung, that was the beginning of another report.
But at least for now, the sun is shining brightly, the bickering continues, and everything seems so peaceful.
So... it's just a normal day.
Cui Ming has been having a pretty good time lately.
During the day, he helps Megumi with paperwork, accompanies Lindis to the shooting range, helps Saeko Busujima practice her swordsmanship, and goes shopping with Angela and Hilda. Occasionally, he goes back to the Seto team base to cook a nice meal for Kotaro Higashi and Kirisaki. Watching those two gluttons wailing over their bowls, Cui Ming feels that life is pretty good.
Except when I'm sleeping, there are those damn Aliens Empera.
The moment Cui Ming closed his eyes, he was plunged into that desolate dream battlefield. The Alien Ambera charged at him, wielding a battle axe, each punch landing with brutal force. Cui Ming couldn't even get a good night's sleep; waking from the dream, his body ached, his eyes were bloodshot, and sleeping felt more exhausting than being awake.
But at other times, it's nice to spend time with everyone.
At least when he was awake, no one dared to punch him in the base. The Norma were chattering around him, Kaina was recording data, Spike was wandering around with a steel pipe in his mouth, and Tom and Jerry were in the corner boiling that pot of milk that could melt a spoon. Cui Ming leaned back on the sofa, twirling a protein bar in his hand, watching these clowns, a rare smile playing on his lips.
Then he thought of Durban.
The little monster in Durban has been protected by TPC.
Hikari drew its blood for research, and the little guy trembled with fear, but at least it survived. Kaina set up an energy isolation chamber for it, covered with a protective shield, and the monitoring was always on. The logistics department even provided Durban with a soft little nest, although Durban would burrow into the nest whenever it saw Cui Ming, only its eyes showing.
Don't tell me that a circus can protect it!
Cui Ming felt a surge of anger just thinking about that circus. Those guys were still in detention, bruised and battered, muttering that Durban was their friend. Friend? Cui Ming's face remained expressionless upon hearing this. He knew all too well what kind of people they were. Not bad, just stupid. Stupid enough to think that feelings could withstand the claws of aliens.
Anyway, as far as Cui Ming knows, there are quite a few aliens around the circus.
The Pittians have been quieter lately, but their reconnaissance ships are still patrolling Earth's orbit. The Nackleians' stronghold was wiped out, and their remnants are scurrying through the sewers like rats. The Kirieloids are another story; those charlatans were exploited by Cui Ming, but who knows which hothead might try to stir up some trouble. And then there are the extradimensional rabble that Aenemi lured out, drawn by the scent of Earth.
Any one of them could easily beat up the entire circus crew, scattering them all over the place!
Those civilians who can only perform magic tricks and talk big, and don't even know the TPC reporting process? They can't even beat Goblin, they can't stop the Steel Mask, so what makes them think they can protect Durban? With love? Can love stop a beam cannon or a dimensional cut? Durban's abilities are too special. He can neutralize violent electromagnetic waves and counteract mind control. This kind of strategic resource is a piece of fat meat in the hands of the circus, and everyone wants a bite.
Therefore, Durban is at least safer in TPC.
If any aliens dare to come, they'll have to ask Cui Ming's Radiant Device for permission first. Although Durban trembles with fear of Cui Ming, at least here, it won't be captured by some passing alien to be used as a battery or a pet. Cui Ming stands outside the isolation room, looking through the glass at Durban huddled on the mat, tapping its holster with its fingers.
Just being alive is enough.
Actually, life in Durban is pretty good.
It lived in a room specially arranged for it by TPC, a place more than ten times larger than the tent it used to live in at the circus. There was a whole layer of soft cushions, and the temperature was kept in its most comfortable range all year round. There were also colorful lights hanging on the walls, twinkling, which were quite similar to the decorations it used to see in the circus, but obviously much more upscale.
They just need to be protected.
There was an energy barrier outside the room, 24-hour surveillance at the entrance, and guards patrolling the corridors. Wherever Durban went, uniformed people followed, not to monitor, but to escort it. If it wanted to go to the canteen, someone would lead the way; if it wanted to sunbathe on the rooftop, someone would clear the area; if it wanted to see the base's garden, someone would check every shrub beforehand.
It's no wonder TPC is nervous about this; after all, many of their enemies are capable of causing trouble.
Durban may be small, but it's not stupid. It can see the chaos caused by aliens in the news, hear the guards discussing attacks in hushed tones, and smell the occasional unfamiliar odor wafting from the ventilation ducts—the scent of some uninvited guest. The Pitt aliens are still roaming outside, the Kirieloid strongholds have been wiped out but remnants remain, and the Nackle aliens have just had a group killed by Cui Ming. If these guys knew that Durban could neutralize the violent electromagnetic waves and counteract mind control, wouldn't they pounce like sharks smelling blood?
Durban understood this, therefore...
It cooperated well.
It would go back to its room when told to, undergo inspections when told to, and obediently follow the guards when instructed to. It even learned to emit gentle electromagnetic waves from its horns to calm the guards when they were nervous. The guards, who had been stern-faced, softened up after Durban's reassurance, and some would even secretly bring it small snacks.
Life is good.
It's even quite luxurious.
TPC provided Durban with a special recreation room, complete with its favorite colorful balls, a box that plays pleasant music, and a large mirror where Durban can practice the tricks it learned in the circus. The logistics department provides it with customized meals, nutritionally balanced even more meticulously than those for humans; reportedly, Captain Megumi personally approved the budget. While Hikari still occasionally comes to draw blood, it's much gentler now, at least no longer charging at Durban with a syringe thicker than its arm.
Most importantly, it wasn't grounded.
Durban was free to roam the base, as long as it didn't leave without permission. It went to the training field and watched Spike chase after the Victory Team members; it went to the mess hall and watched Tom cook that strange pot of milk; it went to the command center and watched Kena jump around on the screen. It even learned to play video games from Wildra, although it could only nudge the controller with its nose, but Wildra said it had talent.
Durban lay on the cushion, the horn-like parts flashing and emitting a comfortable hum.
This place is nice.
Although he wouldn't see his old friends from the circus, although he would occasionally shudder at Hikari's antics, and although every time Trevor passed by, it would instinctively shrink into its cushion.
But at least here, it can sleep peacefully.
No need to worry about being kidnapped by aliens in the middle of the night, no need to worry about being used as a tool or pet, no need to worry about whether you'll be able to open your eyes tomorrow. (End of Chapter)