Embryos—or rather, consumables.
Karyl calmly set down the document in his hand.
Thirteen thousand two hundred and forty-one people. Neither many nor few. But for the Eighth Legion aboard the Nightfall, it was a serious problem.
"We currently have no means of settling them," Konrad Curze said bitterly.
"The Nightfall contains only soldiers and weapons. We have no tools or machinery capable of changing Nostramo's environment. Even if we sent every Legionary out to maintain order, we would only be creating a larger violent organization."
"Just as you said, Karyl, they would certainly try to join our 'gang.'"
The master of the Eighth Legion shook his head, his voice soft. "I don't want to see that happen."
Karyl smiled, and Curze's mood settled at that moment as well. His agitation, and that helpless feeling of having no idea where to begin with this matter, temporarily vanished. Before he knew it, he seemed to have become the Night Haunter again.
In response, the Eighth Legion's instructor merely gave him a calm look.
Some things had to be corrected.
"Then think of a way to solve it yourself," Karyl said. "You do not need to come to me for everything, asking for my opinions or advice."
"Are you trying to fob me off with that line again?" Curze frowned in dissatisfaction.
"What line?"
"You are the master of the Eighth Legion," Konrad Curze replied gruffly. His imitation was not very convincing, but he captured the helplessness in that tone perfectly.
Karyl could not help but laugh, but after the brief smile came a deeper emotion.
"If you keep this up, I will be," he said calmly. "If you keep coming to me for instruction in everything, relying on me for everything, then one day, I truly will become the actual master of