webnovel

Goddess of Victory : NIKKE -THE Last Kiss-

Ark, the Humanity's last Bastion. They have been pushed to the brink. Most of them never have the chance to bathe in natural sunlight anymore. For the rest of their life. In this turmoil age, 3 Goddesses and one human will change the hopeless situation. ---No matter how much people stab fingers on their back. ---No matter how many setbacks to prove their sincerity. ---No matter how many deaths they have to walk past through. HE WILL NEVER STOP MOVING. . . . . ....Until his very last breath. ------ I'm Gonna Die Someday. 俺はいつか死ぬ. So don't need to pray for me. だから俺への祈りは要らない ---- Author's Twitter(X): https://twitter.com/p2fU5C2HMKb64PK?t=PeTWsCjO8JNuyM1ftzB8AQ&s=09 Original story Link: https://syosetu.org/novel/301895/ Support the original author by following him. His work is amazing!! Illustraion for MC: https://img.syosetu.org/img/user/196574/120267.jpg ------ Please support me on my Patreon: - https://www.patreon.com/user?u=16023962 ------ My Schedule Update: 1 Chapter/day (P.S. My time zone is (GMT+7) ) You can also follow me on Twitter (X): https://twitter.com/home?lang=en (P.S. Depending on the patrons on my Patreons or Ko-Fi, I might post extra chapter.) (P.S.S Also, I'm using Chat GPT with personal edit, so there may be some mistranslation.)

NikkeSimp · Tranh châm biếm
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
190 Chs

Ch 100

08:41.

The echoes of numerous gunshots and the continuous explosions of thrown grenades reverberate through the ruined city. Bullets and buckshots are fired vigorously into the horde of Raptures, and grenades explode where their feet stand still.

In an instant, the swarm of enemy aircraft turns into the wreckage, and the moment they acknowledge the destruction of all aircraft, a young man's voice rises, ordering a cease-fire.

"Alright! This is an excellent level, isn't it?"

"No problems in the combat zone, it seems!"

Anis and Neon, raising cheerful voices, rise from behind a large chunk of reinforced concrete, their makeshift cover, and nod repeatedly as they observe the scene in front of them.

"Damage report."

"No casualties among the personnel."

"No damage understood. ...It's been a while since we've been in combat, but we managed somehow."

Leading the squad, Moore pulls the magazine from his assault rifle, checks the remaining ammunition, inserts the magazine back in, and stands up while securing safety. He nods in response to Rapi's report, capturing with his own eyes the results of the first deployment in combat after Marian's return to the surface. It's also been a while since his last combat. The previous mission, which was supposed to be rehabilitation - the pickup and transport of Ludmila - involved engaging with a few Raptures, but it was about a month since the full-fledged combat of the total battle, partly because Rapi and Anis had already defeated them before Moore fired.

As for his self-evaluation, it would generally be "acceptable."

"Marian. Are you okay?"

He looks again at everyone, acknowledging the absence of injuries regardless of size, before turning his gaze to Marian.

She seems fine, but just to be sure, he asks, but there is no response at all.

In front of his gaze, Marian, dressed in blue and white, and carrying a machine gun, stands still. She stands there in that attire, gazing blankly at the remains of the Raptures that were defeated just moments ago.

"Marian?"

As if realizing what she was doing, Marian, who seemed to be gazing at the wreckage, began to walk slowly.

She walks towards the remains of the Raptures.

Among them, she approaches the enemy aircraft whose only core is blinking. Then, she kneels, leans over, extends her hand, and gently starts to stroke it. Eventually, the light from the core that had been flashing red is lost. It's a gesture as if she closed the eyelids of a comrade who had passed away with open eyes.

"Marian?"

"Eh! ...C-Commander...? ...Uh, what...? I, what am I doing!?"

While still kneeling and stroking the Rapture, her actions are observed by Rapi, Anis, and Neon. As they gaze at her with a somewhat dumbfounded expression, Moore, who has started walking, reaches her and places his hand on her slender shoulder.

At that moment, Marian looks up at him with a start. At the same time, whether she understood what she was doing or not, she hastily stood up.

"...Are you okay?"

"...Y-Yes... I'm fine... No... problems."

"...Good. Let's withdraw."

"...Yes."

Marian nods. Moore also nods back at her and sends a hand signal to Rapi, the leader of the squad, indicating the withdrawal. The nearest elevator is about 20 minutes away. Rapi leads the way as the squad begins to walk back, with Annis and Neon covering the rear. Moore and Marian, who happen to walk in the middle, but she appears troubled, with her face downturned.

"What's wrong?"

While walking side by side with Marian, he glances sideways at her and asks.

She receives the gaze from his deep brown eyes, hesitating on how to explain. Opening and closing her mouth several times, she finally manages to articulate it.

"...I felt sorry for them."

"Pity?"

"Yes."

In other words, it seems to be directed towards the Raptures—the enemy aircraft. Moore, sensing why she hesitated to explain, extends his left arm to Marian's back as they walk, lightly patting it a few times.

"...You're kind."

"No, it's not like that! Before... before this, I would never have..."

Raptures should be sworn enemies. Yet, after receiving attacks and seeing defeated Raptures, Marian explains that a feeling of pity emerged, and before she knew it, she had taken such an attitude.

"...What... have I become?"

"Don't worry too much. It must have been tough with recent inspections and simulation training, right?"

She must be tired. Moore pats her back a few more times to emphasize that there's no need to overthink it.

-----

.

.

.

11:35.

Lunchtime is approaching, and he wonders if it's better to wait before reporting, but in cases like this, it's best to get the report done quickly.

In the Vice Commander's office at the Headquarters building, Moore, in his military uniform, requests entry from the female secretary working in the anteroom. Surprisingly, permission to enter is granted without much hesitation.

Upon entering, he sees two individuals—a man and a woman. Namely, the room's owner, Anderson, and the CEO of Elysion, Ingrid.

Following protocol, Moore salutes Anderson. The Vice Commander responds with a casual nod, and Moore takes off his military cap.

After a perfunctory greeting with Ingrid, he proceeds to report.

The report is about the objective of going to the surface this time—Marian's rehabilitation deployment in actual combat.

He emphasizes following Moore's instructions and not hesitating to attack the Raptures. However, as a point of concern, there is something he must report.

"...Marian sympathized with the Raptures?"

"...It seems to be a conscious sympathy or pity. Rather, it appears to be a latent or unconscious behavior."

Anderson reacts with a furrowed brow to Moore's report.

"...I couldn't have anticipated a case like this."

Next, Ingrid reacts. The formidable woman sits on the sofa, crossing her legs, furrowing her eyebrows as if in thought.

"...Could it be an influence from the fusion with the Raptures?"

"I don't know. Moore, anything else that concerns you?"

"Nothing else."

"Hmm... we'll have to observe the situation."

Ingrid murmurs while resting her finger on her well-defined jaw.

From Nikke to Heretic. And from Heretic back to Nikke—or perhaps Marian returned as something completely different. There are too many things unknown.

"...Captain Moore. In any case... please keep an eye on her."

"I understand."

Not uttering the word "disposal" is satisfying enough. However, she is cooperative and dedicated, just as she was before becoming a Heretic. She is an entity with a body constructed with unknown technology. The Vice Commander and the formidable woman understand that disposing of her easily would be shortsighted.

"But... I don't think it'll happen, but just in case, just in case. If by any chance, by any chance at all, she starts thinking more about the Raptures than us humans... we might need to take action."

"Anderson."

"...This is non-negotiable. Captain Moore, do you understand?"

However, as Vice Commander, Anderson has a duty to address Moore with this. In an instant, the pupils of his deep brown eyes widen.

Ingrid silently prompts the Vice Commander to choose his words carefully, but there is a non-negotiable line that cannot be crossed as long as she grants permission for the squad's reassignment.

"...I understand. In case of an emergency, I am prepared to fulfill my duties and responsibilities as her commander."

"...Understood."

With his pupils still dilated, Anderson nods back at Moore, and Ingrid also shows a slight nod.

"...Captain Moore, let me provide you with one piece of information."

"Madam President, what is it?"

"...There's a suspicious activity within the Ark. Personnel movement has been confirmed."

"...Personnel... meaning military forces?"

Ingrid, with her arms crossed below her chest, provides Moore with information she obtained from Elysion. He furrows his brow even more, looking puzzled.

"Central Government Military, perhaps?"

"It seems so. Any ideas?"

"...None, to say would be a lie."

"...I see. I hope it's just a false alarm... but be cautious."

----

.

.

.

13:15.

The Central Government Military is on the move. Ingrid mentioned that the primary target is likely Marian.

Anderson and Ingrid, both prominent figures as the Vice Commander and CEO of Elysion, support the special operations squad tasked with capturing her.

Emphasizing that it's almost impossible to casually intervene is almost like emphasizing the point that they should not easily lay hands on her. Still, there are individuals who want to secure her by any means and subject her to experiments.

However, the CEO of Elysion is concerned about the scale of the military movement to such an extent—how many personnel are mobilized. Whether it follows the proper procedures and has official approval for the operation are points of concern.

Inside the command office of the forward base, Moore exhales deeply.

Finishing a slightly delayed combat ration as a late lunch, he tidies up the empty pouches and throws them into the trash bin. He then takes out a cigarette for a post-meal smoke.

Opening the lid of the oil lighter with a metallic sound, he rotates the wheel.

The scattered sparks ignite the volatile oil, and as the fire starts, he brings the tip of the cigarette closer to it. Thin purple smoke rises from the charred tip of the cigarette. Inhaling it deeply into every corner of his lungs, he exhales the light purple smoke while closing the lid.

"Now, what to do?"

For contemplation, Moore walks to the window, exhaling the purple smoke through the open window.

Fortunately, the enemy—or the simulated enemy, to be precise—has only one place to infiltrate the outpost. That is the elevator.

Infiltration or penetration—either way, the simulated enemy needs to use the elevator to transport troops and deploy its operations within the outpost.

It's fortunate that the point of entry is limited. Dealing with it is also relatively easy.

The problem arises if this point is destroyed. It would lead to later issues such as resupply and various other logistical problems. Destruction is not an option.

On top of allowing reinforcements, the most significant concern remains with the base personnel, including the mass-produced Nikké staff, who, as a rule, cannot attack humans.

If needed, it might be possible. If the NIMPH, instilled with those restrictions, doesn't exist—Rapi or Marian could be included in the calculation for defense forces.

"...No, it's impossible."

Moore immediately dismisses the thought that crossed his mind.

He doesn't uphold grandiose humanitarian ideals. The enemy is the enemy. There's no border between Rapture and humans.

However, he doesn't want to subject them—born to protect humans—to such a thing.

Attacking humans would cause the principle and principle of protecting human life, the reason for their existence, to collapse, leading to contradictions. That's the truth behind the poorly constructed and loophole-ridden rationale used to complete the arsenal.

Simultaneously releasing a deep sigh, he watches the purple smoke flow out of the window.

When nonchalantly following the direction of the purple smoke, wrinkles form on Moore's forehead.

"...Inspection?"

From a distance, a few figures are visible in the shadows of an abandoned building under construction.

He initially thought it might be the patrol time for the guard squad, but today's guard squad commander is Eagle. It's too early for the scheduled 3 p.m. patrol. It's not characteristic of him to conduct patrols ahead of time.

"...Then, who are those figures?"

Holding the cigarette in his mouth, Moore picks up the receiver of the telephone placed beside the desktop in the corner of the command room.

The assault rifle that was about to be serviced is waiting on a makeshift table with a woolen blanket.

Tapping the number connecting to the guard post, he attempts to make a call.

...No answer.

This is unthinkable.

The phone on the guard squad commander's desk should ring, and Eagle, who is on duty, should answer without letting it ring several times.

It's a clear sign of abnormality.

Next, Moore walks towards the radio microphone that connects to the entire outpost and activates it.

As soon as he presses the switch—

"...Tch!"

Numerous gunshots ring out from outside the headquarters building, and instinctively, he drops to the floor.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

NikkeSimpcreators' thoughts