"Dr. Siderial, it has been a long time. I had always wanted to thank you properly in person, but I never had the chance."
In a meeting room at Marine Headquarters, Oran and Mito met once again. Mito had always held a deep respect for Oran, who had given him a new life.
However, Mito had spent the past few years fighting on the front lines, while Oran had no fixed posting, so they had never had an opportunity to meet.
If the World Government had not happened to set him up as a model example, Mito would not have been promoted so quickly. Aside from those monstrous rookies born with extraordinary talent, most Marines advanced slowly in their early years.
Even Zephyr, who had officially entered the battlefield at eighteen, had needed ten years just to become a junior officer. After that, things had sped up considerably. With his strength exploding upward, he had taken another ten years to become the youngest admiral of his era.
"It was nothing. I merely gave you an opportunity. Everything you have today was earned through your own efforts."
"You are too modest. If not for this arm, I would still be wasting away in that little town."
"Wait. Take it off and let me see it."
Looking at Mito's Prosthetic Body, Oran sensed that it had endured plenty of hardship over the years. Compared with its original appearance, so meticulously crafted that it had been indistinguishable from a human arm, it now seemed to have undergone many amateur repairs.
The artificial skin was damaged over a large area, and the patched sections looked distinctly unnatural.
He reached for the metal tube connecting the Prosthetic Body to Mito's body. Zack's body extended along Oran's palm and opened every safety lock within a second.