Neville had barely taken three steps past the entrance of the mecha bay when a wall of muscle appeared in front of him.

"This area is off-limits." The voice was flat and hostile.

When he looked up, it was a tall man with a huge build like an oversized thug, borderline yakuza aura. However, looking at his uniform and the glimpses of the people behind him, it seemed that he was one of the maintenance crew.

Neville blinked and then deliberately widened his eyes behind his nerd glasses.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t know that," he said respectfully but with a note of innocence. "But I’m part of the inspection team from—"

"I don’t care who you’re from." The man’s lip curled in a sneer. "No unauthorized personnel. Turn around and come back where you came from."

Neville was instantly irritated at the attitude of this man. He hadn’t even handed over his ID, but he was already turning away someone. Back on Earth, he had dealt with people like this and trampled their pride one by one in a small corner between the buildings.

Before he could decide what to do with this man, they heard footsteps from behind.

"Hendricks." A calm, authoritative voice made the man’s spine straighten involuntarily. "Stand down."

It seemed that this woman was his supervisor. Neville thought as he watched the woman reach for her scanner.

"ID." She said.

Neville showed his QR ID from Maxwell Corporation. The woman waited for a second for the results.

"We’ve confirmed his identity," she continued, addressing both Hendricks and Neville simultaneously. "He’s cleared for the inspection tour."

Her gaze settled on Neville. "I’ll escort you personally."

Hendricks’ face cycled through several emotions before complying. "Ma’am."

"Apologize to our guest."

"...I apologize," Hendricks said with utter reluctance. "For the misunderstanding."

Neville just smiled, but it wasn’t a nice one. Sometimes he just liked to reel in to this feeling of being on a moral high ground.

"It’s fine," he said sweetly, his voice dripping with magnanimity he absolutely did not feel. "You were just doing your job. Your diligence is admirable."

Hendricks’ eye twitched.

The tour that followed was everything Neville had hoped for and more. The supervisor, Chief Technician Luna, as she introduced herself, proved to be a treasure trove of information.

He learned practical information about mechas, how many mechas a standard passenger starship should have. This mecha bay in particular housed twelve of them. One was being refitted for guard purposes, and the other beside it was being inspected for maintenance.

She also said that there were a lot of unspoken and unwritten rules in these places. It seemed that Chief Luna was asking those things to be overlooked since it couldn’t be helped.

Neville didn’t say anything much but took note of it. Now, he had a choice: not to mention it or just ask Bryan if these were true. If it was and the company approved of it, then nothing was really inherently wrong about it unless something went wrong because of it.

Chief Luna introduced him to the only three mecha whose interior had the same neural sync tube. But she said that it was highly inadvisable to use because it takes a lot of toll on the body.

What toll? He had Shelly. Neville thought as he dreamed of piloting one of these mechas.

Neville absorbed every detail, asking questions that walked the line between eager enthusiasm and professional interest. Chief Luna seemed to appreciate his genuine curiosity, warming to the conversation as they moved deeper into the bay.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

As he left the mecha bay, Neville decided to return to the executive floor. He stood in the grav-lift, watching the deck numbers climb. He was still floating in utter excitement.

But when the grav-lift chimed softly and slid its doors open, his good mood instantly evaporated.

The corridor stretched before him, dimly lit by ambient panels that cast long shadows across the polished floor.

He took a step out of the grav-lift and murmured, "...It’s quiet."

Too quiet.

Neville glanced around, taking in the whole corridor, and felt something was off.

Was it the temperature? Or just his gut feeling? It was bizarre nonetheless.

A sweat dripped down Neville’s spine, slow and cold.

’Shelly?’ he called.

Shelly appeared beside him and noticed his mood. She asked carefully, [Host?]

’Something’s... wrong.’

[Define wrong?]

Then he finally pinpointed what was missing.

Footsteps.

There were no footsteps.

There was also no noise of chatting from the other rooms or the staff.

Just... silence.

Usually, these were things that he could barely ignore and had to dull his senses over time. He eventually managed to treat it as white noise and got used to it in the office. But due to the rooms being next to each other, it was inevitably noisier than ever.

Neville hesitated, then made a decision.

He closed his eyes and properly concentrated his senses around him. The world became sharper than before. What used to be hidden in the soundproofed rooms was clear to his ears. The engines, which were hidden in the gaps of the starship, became louder.

And beneath all of that... footsteps.

Several footsteps, quietly moving around.

He had already heard Julius’s and his people’s footsteps before. Judging from how clumsy these footsteps were, it didn’t sound like them. However, it was still measured and seemed to be trained. There were a lot of people with these kinds of footsteps around, and they were moving in slightly coordinated and quiet movements.

’I’m hearing footsteps,’ he said as he tried to concentrate more. ’I don’t think I’ve heard of these footsteps before. It’s certainly not from Julius’s team. But there were... There were a lot of them scattered.’

[Host— should we alert the chief secretary and your target?]

Neville took a step forward, then another, his heart hammering against his ribs.

’I... I think it’s too late.’

Because now, with his heightened senses fully extended, he could hear it—

A strangled shout, muffled but unmistakable. It was coming from the direction of the executive room.

It was Bryan.