Could I Really Go SEED?

Of course, it wasn't all bad news.

The good news was that, thanks to his outstanding performance, the academy had given him special consideration and sent him into the MS Training Class.

At the same time, his body was not beyond recovery. Because of that whole series of reckless stunts, his cellular activity was considerably stronger than that of ordinary Coordinators.

So in theory, as long as he kept taking medication regularly, there was still a chance he could recover completely.

It would just take a rather long time, and the medication was quite expensive, saddling the already impoverished Noer with another massive debt.

"Damn it, did I step in shit when I transmigrated?"

Lying on the bed, Noer cursed furiously. He had to be the unluckiest transmigrator ever!

How could every damn misfortune find its way to him?

First, he had transmigrated to Junius 7, which was about to be nuked flat. Then he had somehow taken Gene Potion No. 4, leaving his body with all sorts of lingering side effects.

Then, in order to repay his medical debts and stay alive, he had no choice but to enroll in the Z.A.F.T school as a student.

After much difficulty, he had managed to get into the Mecha Maintenance Class, thinking he could at least lie low for a while.

Yet on his very first time piloting one, he had run into an MS rampage, forcing him to...

"Wait, why can I pilot an MS?"

Noer suddenly realized something.

Logically speaking, he was only a Pseudo-Coordinator. Why could he pilot an MS?

And pilot it so well, at that.

"That feeling of it moving like an extension of my limbs... I... I couldn't possibly be able to go SEED..."

He recalled the scene of piloting the MS, its smooth controls from his memories, and that ability that had seemed almost like precognition.

A faint glint flashed in Noer's eyes as he lay in the hospital bed.

At the same time, inside a building somewhere on Earth.

A blond-haired man in a suit was intently reading a report on his computer.

"This really is help in a time of need..."

As he spoke, the man shut down the computer and pressed a button beside it.

Bang~

Before long, the door opened, and several men in Earth Alliance uniforms entered.

"Deliver this to the biological research institute. Tell them I want an enhanced version!"

The man removed the data storage disk and tossed it over.

"Yes, sir!"

The soldiers hurriedly saluted, then turned and left the room with the data storage disk.

"Noel Cassia..."

"What an interesting world."

Beep~

Whoosh~

The following morning, the door to the PLANT hospital room slowly opened.

Noer, who was lying in bed questioning his entire life, looked over at the sound.

"Cruze?"

The familiar blond hair, familiar white uniform, and familiar mask—who else could it be but Cruze?

"It seems you and hospitals are fated," Cruze said with a chuckle as he walked over carrying a black briefcase and placed it on the cabinet beside Noer's bed.

"I'd rather not have this kind of fate." Noer was utterly speechless. Fated, his ass.

Click~

A sound like a lock opening rang out.

"What is this?" Noer frowned as he looked at the medicine inside the black briefcase.

One look was enough to tell him it was nothing good.

"Don't you already know?" Cruze took out a vial, then, under Noer's watchful gaze, filled a syringe with it.

"What are you doing?" Watching Cruze's movements, Noer felt a chill rise from the bottom of his heart and hurriedly shouted at him.

Cruze said nothing. He merely glanced calmly at Noer before walking toward the IV drip beside his bed with the syringe.

"Stop! What the hell is that stuff?!"

Sitting bolt upright from his sickbed, Noer somehow forced his battered body upright. He quickly reached out and shoved Cruze away. "I have no grudge against you, sir. Why are you trying to hurt me?!"

"Do you really not know what this is?" Cruze looked startled as he held the syringe. He had thought Noer knew.

"Isn't that fucking obvious?!" Noer was speechless. He had never even seen this thing before. How could he possibly know what it was?

"This is a Gene repair agent specially developed for you. You should have been injected with it before," Cruze explained.

"What do you mean?" Noer frowned. A Gene repair agent specially developed for him? Why did that sound so suspicious?

Did the research institute have nothing else to do? Why were they developing medicine for him every day? Was there...

"You said this is a Gene repair agent?" Noer suddenly caught on. Could this be that addictive stuff?

"Of course," Cruze replied with a nod.

"Can... can I not use it?" Noer felt like his whole world had fallen apart. He was panicking badly.

According to what those people had said yesterday, this stuff was a bit like drugs, perhaps even an extremely potent kind. Once someone absorbed it for the first time, they would become heavily dependent on it.

Just imagining himself suffering over a tiny vial of medicine for the rest of his life made Noer's skin crawl.

"If you wish, I can actually help you apply for euthanasia." Cruze did not force Noer to take it. Instead, he stood to the side and spoke in a somber tone.

"Euthanasia? What... what do you mean?" Noer's pupils contracted. Something about that did not sound right.

"Have you ever seen what Earthlings look like when drugs control them?"

"You mean I'll become like those addicts?!"

"No. I mean you'll have it even worse than they do. So if you aren't willing, euthanasia may be a better choice."

"..."

Two minutes later~

Noer lay in bed, feeling the comfort spreading through his limbs, his heart filled with complicated emotions.

The stuff was good... no, damn it.

Its effects really were excellent—immediate and obvious.

But whenever he thought about its side effects... Noer felt as though ants were gnawing at his limbs, and fear rose uncontrollably within him.

Mixed in with it was a trace of existential doubt.

In his previous life, he had never touched gambling or drugs.

Yet not long after arriving in this life, he had gotten hooked on them—an even more powerful, super-enhanced version at that. The key was that he could not survive without it!

Just thinking about it exhausted him.

"This is your medication from now on. Once every five days. If you run out, you can go to the PLANT research institute or apply directly through me."

As Cruze spoke, he took several vials from a hidden compartment in the briefcase and placed them on the table.

"You... forget it."

Noer had wanted to ask whether everything that had happened to him was Cruze's doing.

But on second thought, that made no sense at all.

What could possibly make Cruze value a test-tube baby so highly?

Or was there something especially unusual about him?

But how unusual could a test-tube baby be?

Or had Cruze discovered that he could go SEED?

"Hehe, get some rest. You should be able to leave the hospital in a few more days."

Cruze did not press the matter. He simply turned around, picked up the briefcase, and left the ward with the attendants waiting outside.

"Ah, is this fate?"

Thinking back on everything that had happened recently, Noer could not help letting out a long sigh toward the ceiling.

Other transmigrators wielded kitchen knives and hacked at power lines, sparks and lightning flying all the way. They showed off, soared through the world, and had countless beautiful women in their harems.

Why was his life such a mess? Forget beautiful women and harems—whether he could even stay alive peacefully was a problem.

What Noer did not know was that just as Cruze walked out of the hospital entrance, a sedan pulled up in front of him. Its window rolled down, revealing a handsome, long-haired face.

It was the long-haired man who had appeared in Noer's hospital room earlier.

"Care to talk?" the man asked Cruze with a smile.

After pondering for a moment, Cruze waved his attendants away, opened the passenger-side door, and got in.

Then, under the watchful eyes of the two attendants, the car merged into the traffic.