Chapter 77 - Incursion

<---Chapter 76 - A Warning|Table of Contents|Chapter 78 - Martyr--->

The first week of operation of the factory proceeded smoothly despite the hiccups in employment and training. Gordon innovated a few other methods of compartmentalizing the assembly process, making it easier for the factory workers to become productive.

Veteran technicians, trade school students and new Seven Snakes recruits alike worked hand-in-hand, filling up the gaps and pumping out rifle after rifle. It soon became second-nature to many of the workers and the foreman, enabling the production teams to slowly perform their own quality control.

At the same time, the durability and strength of the new materials were tested thoroughly, many of the variations and compositions not making the cut. Kyle spent most of his hours figuring out how best to create a new stronger material that could beat the competition.

Yet he could not utilize his previous knowledge of Galactic Era defense systems. Even if he had still retained his cranial implant on resurrection, it would still be nearly impossible to achieve the temperatures and gravitational control parameters required to manufacture some of the more exotic alloys that were commonplace during his time.

After all, he had to remain small as well. The existence of the exosuit spine he had won at the auction and other relics were a clear sign that there were others who may understand Galactic Era technology, and begin to target him.

I'll have to start small. Kyle watched on as a few Seven Snakes associates test-fired the newly produced standard rifles against the prototype materials in a makeshift firing range enclosed within the Aspis Weapons Factory which were propped on wooden crosses, enduring pellet after pellet.

"Sir." The older designer in charge of leading Team A was already there, measuring the depth of impacts on a few specimens. "As we can see in the chainmail variation, it seems to be perfectly aligned with our requirement. Just on penetration alone, it is performing quite well against standard lead and iron bullets."

"Put the specimen up again in lane 12. Have the light-capturers set up." Kyle ordered a few workers while hauling his long briefcase onto an empty table, opening to reveal parts of a special gun that the Team A lead designer had never seen before, his questions only restrained by a glare from Kyle.

Kyle carefully assembled the sniper rifle together, though in his mind it was hardly an sniper rifle. What kind of sniper rifle can only have a range of 500 meters? However, it was by far the most powerful single shot weapon in his arsenal currently - making a new one would have to wait until he was done with the military contract.

The lead designer's face paled as Kyle continued to assemble the elongated barrel piece by piece, the engravings along the side intricate. "By Yual, what the..."

Kyle ignored the stares of the Team A designers who were now crowding around him, instead focusing on fine-tuning the gun, making sure the engravings were all aligned correctly before latching them into place. He heaved the entire rifle with one single arm, resting it at the range aimed right at the target of lane 12, where a thin chainmail already dented with holes was waiting.

With a single pull, the recoil sent a shudder through the makeshift firing range, the temporary partitions vibrating violently from the sudden launch as the pellet tore through the chainmail like a sheet of paper, the wooden cross behind snapping in half.

"Get the captured engraving into a light-thrower."

The recorded flight of the bullet was tabulated, using the marking along the walls and estimating the time of flight by using the frame rate of the light-capturer. With this, Kyle continued putting various iterations of the chainmail specimens, firing shot after shot.

Each of the chainmail prototypes failed to resist the penetration effect, most of them a gaping hole torn through them.

"Not good enough at all. If this armour cannot handle this amount of energy at least more than three times, its a failure."

The designers erupted into a furor at the obvious tall order, some of them clamoring towards the Team A lead designer. "Elder Buron, what the hell are we going to do now?" Yet Lead Designer Buron did not respond, his face glinting with excitement at the prospect of the challenge, only motioning with his hand to another designer to bring out the next testing specimen.

"This next specimen is a steel plate doped with arcite ore as well as a few additional materials. Even with your elongated rifle, there's no way you'll penetrate it!" Buron stuck his chest out with pride. "Countless overtime hours have been put in over the last seven days to find the perfect combination-"

His speech was interrupted by a loud bang, the pellet fired from the rifle whizzing past in a blur, slamming into the steel plate. For a brief moment Buron grinned, half-expected the doped steel plate to hold, only for the pellet to tear through it, albeit less easily than the chainmail. This time, the pellet had disintegrate from the impact, though there was still a clear burnt mark on the wooden cross behind.

Kyle repeated the test, making sure the results were repeatable.Even a doped plate with increases thickness was unable to resist the ballistic impact.

"Slightly better... Anything else?"

Buron's heart sank, having lost hope only for another brave Team B designer to step up. "I have one!"

"Good, bring it up to lane 12. Replace the wooden figure."

As Kyle checked on his rifle, Buron hurriedly grabbed the Team B designer. "What other specimens do we have?! You're not even from our team! Were we not working on the chainmail and the steel arcite alloys?!"

"I've found an interesting concept from Proco during my visit to the markets and when designing the layout of the armour. Just watch!"

Kyle overheard the discussion, slightly intrigued as a similar steel plate was placed on the range. However, instead of it being a simple bland steel plate, this one was a composite, with the middle layer filled to brim with what seemed to be standard sand, sandwiched between two doped steel layers.

"Idiot, what good would sand do agains-" Before Buron could interrogate the designer, Kyle fired another pellet. A loud impact echoed through the range, the friction eroding the silicate particles in an intense fury apart. Yet surprisingly the back armour plate itself was intact, though the dent on the front was severe. Sand poured out of the hole, leaking like a sack of rice.

"Interesting." Kyle was well aware of composite armour - starships in the Galactic Era still relied on it, albeit with the layers numbering in the dozens. This simplifed armour was a step towards the winning formula that they needed to prove their capabilites to the Raktor armed forces. With this, he had plausible deniability to throw off anyone suspecting him of knowing too much, able to shift the heat to the designers.

Just as Buron was about to celebrate and take credit for something he didnt do, Kyle fired yet another shot, the pellet hitting the same spot dead on. In one fell swoop, the pellet tore through the backplate, and the thin steel layers began to fracture rapidly, the entire plate cracked apart from the center, breaking into multiple pieces.

"Combine the concept of the chainmail with this composite armour." Kyle drew up a quick schematic on a rough piece of paper, revealing a honeycomb structure of steel. "Fill the gaps with all types of sand, have them fused up to t

200 degrees. Quench, temper, try everything. Choose the one that has the best impact dispersion. We want to make sure the longitudinal wave is not too severe that the entire structure flexes and cracks."

The designers stared at Kyle, their expressions flabbergasted at what Kyle had just said. Not even Buron had any idea what the hell he was talking about, the words coming out of Kyle's mouth sounding like esoteric ritual spells. They murmured between each other, trying to figure out whether anyone understood what just happened.

Kyle ignored their blank stares, leaving the schematic with them as he went to check on the standard rifles, which were supposed to be improved by Team C. New Seven Snakes recruits were rotated back and forth as they went through vigorous testing of the arcia consumption limits of the new rifle, piles upon piles of struggling bodies trying to recover from arcia exhaustion.

"It seems to be working." A Team C designer reported to Kyle. "The fresh recruits can now fire up to seven times, so a trained soldier should be able to fire ten."

"Money is not made from assumptions, it is made from certainty. Get Baron Cain's knights to test them out."

Overall, the weapon and armour design was improving rapidly, spurred by the high salary and the continuous tips offered by Kyle. On the other side, Gordon still oversaw the production team, which were now arranged into twenty assembly lines. Rows upon rows of arcia etchers that dangled from flimsy steel frames were tightly gripped by workers, carving delicately by following the grooves on the already rounded plates.

The continuous hiss of heat-treated steel breastplates and carved barrels reigned supreme in the air, amdist the never-ending hammering of steel presses and workers hammering the plates into shape. With the process now divided properly, production was as smooth as long as they kept the supply up.

Logistical support staff continuously ferried fresh materials from the Culdao Peaks, keeping stock of each assembly line everyday and making sure they had enough to manufacture their target goals.

[Sir, I have your updated report on the other gangs..] Adrian spoke on the radio while Kyle inspected the produced rifles.

"Go ahead."

[First, an update on the Ardent Cretins. It is confirmed that both Sebastian and Ares are out of town in Kregol, but they will be returning shortly in a few days. The information is outdated, so they could very well be back in Raktor.]

"Understood." Kyle understood what Sebastian was trying to do - expand outwards instead of contesting within the city. Just like how he had occupied the Culdao Peaks and ousted the Violet Demon's bandits from the forest, the Ardent Cretins were now doing the same with Kregol. Yet Kyle felt that it was not worth it - if he were Sebastian, he would immediately leverage his ability to crush the remaining three gangs in the South Sector without hesitation. Unless he is planning for something else...

[The Wretches have been closed off, it's hard to get information on them. They are keeping a tight lid on anyone or anything going out of their districts, but they don't seem to be taking any offensive actions.]

"Got it."

[As for the Red Lions.... Wrent hasn't been seen for quite some time. The last known location was deep in the Red Lions' district, near their headquarters.]

"Then they must have already caught on to what is happening. Is there an imminent attack?"

[No sir, none of the Red Lions are making a move. Instead, they are pulling back all of their members from the contested streets between us.]

"Weird. No mobilization?" Kyle half-expected the Red Lions to react to the brain-drain in a similar fashion as the Ilysian Punks. Most gangs would immediately attempt to antagonize him to keep the pressure high and prevent their own district residents from migrating over.

[Nothing at all boss. Although, because of the retreat, there are more people coming to apply for our housing program now.]

"Hmm..." Kyle sensed a plot brewing, but he still could not put his finger on what was happening. "Have Gordon and Keith ensure that a proper background check is performed. Anyone coming from the Red Lions district should be thoroughly investigated. We don't want any surprises."

[Understood.]

If the Red Lions plan is to try and steal the engravings so as to establish their own industry, they will be sorely disappointed.

The temporary job distribution center was packed to the brim, with new applicants from all over the South Sector jostling for a chance to get in.

They had to, for the housing complex did not have infinite capacity - it was clear to anyone who had even paid attention to the sheer public media push by the Golden Snakes Construction Company.

Originally derided as an unsafe district ran by hooligans, the former Versian District was now the land of dreams for anyone looking to get a better life.

The applicants came from everywhere - villagers from afar looking to start anew, homeless families seeking a chance again, addicts wanting to coast by on a simple job and many others. Some of them had already been rejected by the trade school due to their illiteracy.

At the helm of the swarm of people elbowing each other to squeeze in through the doors, Guang Hwa desparately tried to control the situation from getting out of control.

Shit, I thought being a company head meant a good life. Yet I'm out here trying to reign in idiots! Guang Hwa naturally had no loyalty to Kyle nor the Seven Snakes, which is why he had two veteran cobras acting as his 'bodyguards', both of them able to activate the slave collar in an instant if Guang Hwa ever tried to betray them.

He sighed, resigned to his fate as he continued speaking through the microphone. [Everyone, there are more than enough houses to go around! Please queue up!]

The surge of applicants hardly heeded his pleas, instead choosing to push even harder, a few of them even getting into scuffles, throwing punches with their children cries neverending.

[Stop fighting, there's enough for everyone!] Guang Hwa headed down the stage, trying to break up one of the fights, only to get hit right in the chin by a stray elbow from an angry applicant.

Instead of apologizing to Guang Hwa, the angry applicant continue forcing his way through before finally being restrained by two Seven Snakes recruits, both of whom were already showing clear signs of disdain for the rowdy applicants as they dragged him away.

The other recruits who served as guards gritted their teeth as they continuously shoved belligerent applicants back.

"Where the hell are the enforcers?" One of the fresher recruits grumbled as he forcibly restrained a struggling applicant to the ground. "I signed up to be a gangster, not some security dog!"

As he stood up, his complaints earned him a smack from Niko."Idiot, this is our territory! And why are you still relying on enforcers?"

The bruised Guang Hwa internally snapped, immediately getting up and screaming into the microphone. [THIS IS YOUR LAST FUCKING WARNING! WE HAVE LIGHT-CAPTURERS ALL OVER THE CENTER - ANYONE WHO IS STILL FIGHTING WILL BE ARRESTED! YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE!]

The ragged crowd halted for a brief moment, contemplating their next move when a few smarter folks snuck in through the confusion, cutting the queue and forcing their way into the center.

Without hesitation, an uproar rose through the queue, as the fighting and chaos became even worse.

[FINE! EVERYONE BEYOND THIS LINE IS OUT! LEAVE IN THIRTY SECONDS OR YOU WILL BE ARRESTED!]

"By who? I don't see any enforcers around here!" One of the more oblivious applicants from beyond the city hollered, expecting the others around him to join in.

Instead he turned to only see more than half of the crowd disperse like rats scampering away from an ensuing flood. "What the..."

The oblivious applicant had no time to think, an impact driving deep into his ribs as he was tackled to the ground by Niko.

Guang Hwa grinned as he saw them scurry away like ants, relishing in the power. Yet the nagging reminder that Kyle had him as a slave put a damper to that.

While the queue was brought back under control, a ragged homeless man stood in line, seemingly compliant. Yet the glint in his eyes betrayed his clear intellect for anyone keen enough to spot him. Both Niko and Guang Hwa did not see the man, the two focused on making sure everything else ran smoothly.

As the man approached the front of the queue, he exchanged a knowing glance with one of the processing clerks, before revealing the tip of a jade bracelet.

"Next, please. Yes, you over there." The processing clerk motioned to the same ragged homeless man, who shuffled over with a conspicuous limb. "Please, take a seat."

The man sat carefully, his arms resting on the counter to reveal multiple bruises and cuts that were just healing.

The processing clerk slid over a glass of water on a coaster, the man quickly grabbing it and gulping hurriedly as though he had just crossed a desert. "Name?"

"Gunther." The man wiped a trickle off his chin, his energetic eyes already locking onto the two bodyguards for a brief moment.

"Occupation?"

"Farmer."

"Farmer? From which part?"

"Near Ocra. Had a few pigs I hold dear, but sold them to make my way here in hopes of a better life."

"I'm sure the pigs still miss you." The processing clerk penned the information down onto a template form. "We may have a few jobs in that area that would suffice. How good are you with your hands?"

"Not as good as my mouth, I am afraid. Nothing compared to my brother, of course."

The two shared a laugh, though if anyone was looking closely, it was a mirthless laughter.

"You mentioned you had a brother. Any other family members?"

"17 brothers and sisters blessed by those above and my master, but all of them have scattered into the wind ever since our home had been burned down. It pains me to have yet to find them, but I am confident that I am close to one. Very close."

"I too, wish you the very best in your endeavors. So, any preference in jobs?"

"I would like to apply to be a technician in the Aspis Weapons Factory."

"The weapons factory has a stringent background check. It may take a few days before you are cleared."

"The road to a better future is always long and narrow."

"Indeed." The processing clerk finished up the documentation, drafting up a temporary pass. "The Golden Snakes Construction Company welcomes you. You'll be assigned a temporary waiting location until your apartment has been prepared. You may or may not be sharing rooms with others."

"Not a problem, I am ready to work for my future, no matter how hard it gets."

"That's the spirit." The processing clerk grinned, stamping a seal of approval on the documents, the name written down clearly different from what was said. "Looking forward to work you, Ki Hwang. The Society welcomes your help."

The man grabbed the coaster under the glass, keeping it in-between the layers of shabby cloths covering his body before reaching over for a firm handshake. "Of course. Together we will strike against tyranny. For the Goddess."

<---Chapter 76 - A Warning|Table of Contents|Chapter 78 - Martyr--->