Beneath a thin layer of reinforced glass, blue electrons and green particles from the emergency power supply surge, relaying the state of the ruins. The vast data archive, responsible for collecting, storing, and preserving information, silently amasses immense volumes of data within each lime-green pillar that stands in orderly rows.

  The information from the ruins is a valuable commodity, traded at high prices among the tower's intelligentsia. Those who seek the truth and history of the ruins commission relic hunters to retrieve this data, only to buy it for a pittance. Ignorance is mocked as a sin, but those who sell off valuable information without understanding its worth are equally at fault.

  Walking among the lime-green pillars of electronic data storage, Danan searches for a specific column, his mechanical arm humming as he pries open the metal hatch concealing its control panel.

  If the control panel has a console socket, he can use the hacking cable on his mechanical arm to extract the data. Without such a port, he has no choice but to move on. Clicking his tongue in frustration each time he encounters a dead end, Danan methodically removes metal hatches, searching for a pillar he can access.

  For relic hunters devoid of knowledge, life is a hand-to-mouth existence. For the average lower-class hunter, unaware of tomorrow's meals or even their own survival, the value of information is beyond their grasp. Unless someone explains its importance, their priorities lie with the tangible relics of the ruins, far outweighing abstract data.

  Relics can be retrieved and sold at exchange posts for decent credits, or kept as valuable tools or weapons. But information requires scrutiny, forcing the hunter to interpret its contents and determine if it matches the client’s needs. If it doesn’t, they must dive back into the ruins to search again.

  Ignorance is a sin. Those who embrace it are punished, lamenting the misfortune that befalls them. Recalling a passage from a book an old man once read to him, Danan nods in agreement—there is no lie in those words.

  Knowledge and wisdom are tools for survival, but they can also serve as weapons to protect oneself. If ignorance is a sin that invites punishment, then knowledge is an invisible shield that wards off sin and purifies its consequences.

  But alas, in the lower strata, those who can read and write are few and far between. Even if a hunter retrieves the requested data, they’re often swindled by literate intermediaries who deduct from their reward or abscond with the payment entirely. For this reason, data retrieval jobs are shunned by most relic hunters.

  Fortunately, Danan was taught to read and write by the old man who raised him, so he has never failed a data-related commission.

  As a top-tier relic hunter, Danan ventures into the ruins alone, relying on no one. The old man, his surrogate father, instilled in him a wealth of knowledge before passing away, his identity and origins unknown. Danan lives by the teachings of this enigmatic figure, whose death left unanswered questions. Standing before the small grave where the old man’s body lies, Danan, now a young man, repeatedly asks himself who the old man was and why he took him in. Behind the wrinkled iron mask the old man wore, Danan could never discern his thoughts or emotions.

  “…”

  These memories of their time together are irrelevant to survival. Thinking about them now is pointless. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Danan approaches a pillar, pries open its metal hatch, and plugs his hacking cable into the console socket.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  A cascade of text fills his vision through his goggles, displaying a detailed timeline and weather data for the day. Cursing his carelessness for forgetting to ask Lilth for specifics about the data she needed, Danan sifts through the information based on her usual preferences.

  One second, two seconds, three… He scans and analyzes the data, but none of it pertains to the ruins. His vision overwhelmed by logs, Danan deems it futile and unplugs the cable, turning his gaze to the stark white dome at the center of the data archive.

  Finding the right pillar among countless others by trial and error is a daunting task. Hacking each one individually would take an eternity.

  So, he decides to go to the source. Approaching the dome, he plans to operate its terminal to locate the distributed data—information about the ruins’ past and the tower.

  Gripping his rifle, Danan reaches for the dome’s door handle, praying it isn’t electronically locked. He turns it slowly.

  To his surprise—whether fortunate or not—the door opens easily. Slipping inside, Danan exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

  “Canaan, I wasn’t told there’d be intruders here,” a voice says.

  “Kaas, I didn’t expect anyone to have business in a place like this either,” another replies.

  A tall man clad in black body armor and a long black coat, and a petite girl dressed in a white outfit reminiscent of a bridal gown, glance at Danan, who has his rifle raised.

  “Kill him?” the man asks.

  “Do as you please,” the girl responds.

  They immediately shift into combat stances.

  “Canaan, prioritize erasing the data. I’ll deal with him,” the man orders.

  “Understood. Take care of the pest, Kaas,” the girl replies.

  “Got it.”

  In an instant, the man called Kaas flickers, moving with the agility of a tiger and the ferocity of a wolf, closing the distance to Danan and glaring at him with raptor-like eyes.

  A sharp metallic clang rings out as their mechanical arm blades clash, sparks flying. After trading blows, Danan’s assault rifle roars, shattering Kaas’s armor and piercing his side.

  Blood and flesh splatter through the air, droplets staining the white tiles. Danan knows this won’t be enough to kill him. He needs a decisive, lethal strike.

  “I can see it,” Kaas growls. “I can see everything you’re thinking, relic hunter. What’s that grenade in your hand?”

  “?!”

  Kaas’s gaze pierces the grenade hidden in Danan’s belt pouch, his finger already on the pin. The man’s words throw him off balance.

  “Don’t hesitate, relic hunter.”

  A gleaming blade slashes Danan’s cheek, slicing through his ear.

  Close combat is disadvantageous. Danan needs distance to land bullets in Kaas’s gut. Dodging a blade aimed at his neck by a hair’s breadth, he fires 9mm Parabellum rounds from the fingertips of his mechanical arm, only to see Kaas deflect every bullet, prompting another frustrated click of Danan’s tongue.

  What kind of dynamic vision does this man have to parry bullets? Wiping the warm blood trickling down his cheek, Danan dodges a flurry of attacks, searching for an opening. His eyes catch the girl called Canaan, and he swings his rifle toward her, pulling the trigger.

  The sound of gunfire and the sickening splatter of flesh fill the air. The moment Danan aims at Canaan, Kaas throws himself in front of her, taking the rifle rounds in her place.

  “What’s that? You care for that kid so much?” Danan taunts. “Then you shouldn’t have brought her here. She’s your weakness.”

  Kaas’s armor is shattered, exposing raw flesh through the broken steel. Spitting blood, he covers his mouth to shield Canaan’s silver hair from the splatter, letting tiny insects crawl over his wounds.

  “…”

  His crimson eyes burn with hatred and rage-fueled intent to kill.

  “No comeback, huh? Then I’ll kill you and that kid together.”

  Danan pulls a grenade from his pouch, yanks the pin, and tosses it. He shoots the airborne grenade with precision, engulfing Kaas and Canaan in a fiery explosion.

  “This girl is my weakness?” Kaas’s voice echoes from the flames.

  The grenade, packed with excessive explosives, is designed to kill with ease.

  “Relic hunter… I’ve decided. I’ll kill you without leaving a single bone behind.”

  No human could survive that inferno in one piece.

  “Canaan, authorize the use of Lumina.”

  “Very well. Pierce, devour, and crush, beast of Nib.”

  Charred and blistered, with burst muscle fibers exposed, Kaas rips off his gas mask, revealing a ferocious grin.

  “Code: Nib… Release.”

  Baring teeth like a starved beast, he unleashes black thread-like worms from his heart.