With Amond and Daiz on either side, practically carrying Turles between them, they managed to drag him out of the training room.
"Lord Turles, are you all right?"
Turles leaned back in his chair, the muscles all over his body still twitching slightly beyond his control.
"Huff... huff..."
But there was no pain on his face. Instead, he was exhilarated after conquering his limits.
After catching his breath for a while, he ignored the concerned looks on Amond's and Daiz's faces and turned straight toward Reiz and his brother Lakasei, who stood on the other side of the console.
"Very good."
"Even better than I imagined."
Turles raised his wrist and pointed to the control panel on his wristband.
"The weight adjustment system responds quickly."
"Good work."
Reiz and Lakasei exchanged a glance, their faces showing the pride peculiar to tech geeks.
"We modified it using the legion's latest energy stabilization technology. In theory, it allows seamless adjustment." Lakasei pushed up his goggles.
"Lord Turles, the weight you just endured was already the theoretical limit for this suit," Reiz added. "Any higher, and the material's structure might become unstable."
Turles nodded, very satisfied with the result.
He looked around at everyone in the main control room, not including Tights, of course.
"Make a custom-fitted one for each of them, and make one for each of you brothers too."
"Make them look like our usual standard Battle Suits, with no visible difference from the outside."
The concern on Amond's face instantly turned to shock, and he dug a finger into his ear.
Daiz froze too, instinctively glancing at the "torture device" Turles was still wearing, with heat rising from it in waves.
"W-what?!"
"Lord Turles! We have to wear that too?!"
"You can't be serious! That thing... that thing is a torture device!"
The mere thought of putting it on made Amond feel as if every bone in his body were creaking.
He had seen perfectly clearly how half-dead the boss had looked just now.
Though Daiz said nothing, his deeply furrowed brow showed how he felt.
He even felt that this was no longer training. It was torture.
Reiz and Lakasei shrank back in fright. They were technicians, not fighters. If they put those things on, they might be flattened into meat patties on the spot.
Only Cacao had no reaction.
"Lord Turles, this..." Daiz tried to speak, hoping to persuade him tactfully.
However, Turles merely gave him a cold glance.
That single glance made Daiz swallow everything else he had been about to say.
He slowly rose from his chair.
"If you still want to get stronger, put away your doubts."
He looked around at them, and the fatigue had vanished from his bright eyes, leaving only unfathomable calculation and authority.
"We won't have the fruit of the Tree of Might to rely on in the future."
They all lowered their resistant heads like deflated balloons.
"...Yes, Lord Turles."
The atmosphere in the main control room was a little strange.
At Turles's urging, Reiz and Lakasei headed for the workshop as if resigned to their fate.
Amond and Daiz also left, both full of apprehension.
They were going to face what Turles called the "new Battle Suits," and the expressions on their faces were worse than if they were heading to an execution ground.
Soon, only Turles and Tights remained in the vast main control room.
Turles leaned back in the commander's chair, finally recovering a little.
The excruciating pain of every muscle in his body being torn apart and rebuilt still lingered, but he could clearly feel his body adapting and recovering at an astonishing speed.
He picked up a food container from the table beside him and opened the lid. The high-energy synthetic food inside was still steaming.
Turles picked up a spoon and began eating, paying no attention to anything else.
On the other side, Tights held her own food container, putting small mouthfuls of food into her mouth while glancing at Turles from time to time.
The entire room was so quiet that only the sounds of the two chewing and swallowing could be heard.
After eating her last bite, Tights set the empty container aside. She hesitated for a long time, but finally stood up.
She crept over to Turles one step at a time, looking just like a cat that wanted to steal a fish but was afraid its owner would catch it.
Turles didn't even look up, his spoon scraping noisily against the food container.
"If you have something to say, just say it."
Even so, she mustered her courage, her voice as faint as a mosquito's hum.
"Th-that... you said before... that you already had Earth's coordinates?"
"Is that true?"
So that was it.
Turles stopped eating and finally looked up.
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Are you scared?"
Turles studied Tights with interest.
"Are you afraid I'll actually invade Earth and destroy your home?"
"Or are you afraid... that you're no longer of any use to me, and I'll kill you while I'm at it?"
Boom!
Those two questions struck Tights squarely in the forehead like a bolt from the blue.
Her face turned deathly pale in an instant.
She opened her mouth and stammered, but in the end she couldn't get a single word out.
Seeing how scared out of her wits she was, Turles found it somewhat funny.
Teasing this older single woman from Earth was one of his few forms of entertainment during the dull voyage through space.
"Relax."
Turles waved a hand.
"Let me give you some good news."
"I'm not planning to go to Earth for the time being."
Tights froze.
Then she came to her senses, but her face showed that she didn't quite believe him.
"W-why?"
Turles spread his hands, looking as if the answer were obvious.
"Because it's too far away."
He pointed at the vast sea of stars beyond the porthole.
Hearing Turles's explanation, Tights couldn't find any fault with it.
It sounded perfectly reasonable.
A rush of joy at having survived swept over her, and her taut nerves instantly relaxed.
Though she only half believed Turles's nonsense, at least the immediate crisis was over.
She let out a soft breath.
Turles suddenly changed the subject.
"However, you might not get to stay idle either."
Tights's heart leaped back into her throat.
Her face was full of question marks.
Turles stood up, went around the console, and walked over to her.
"When I reported on my work to Lord Frieza, I happened to mention something."
"I said there was a talented, universe-renowned novelist on my team."
He reached out and tapped Tights on the forehead.
"So, Ms. Tights, congratulations."
"You have a new job."