Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 54: Boat to Xerath

A few days had passed since Nioh boarded the illegal ship out of the Daewyth region. These types of ships were labeled illegal because they ignored military safety regulations, discreetly ferrying contraband, criminals, and those without proper identification.

Onboard, money was the only rule—as long as you could pay, anything was fair game.

But the real danger of these ships was their unregulated flight paths. Unlike legal transports, which were protected by the army’s Aerial Protection Division, these vessels had to chart unpredictable routes, leaving them vulnerable to biocore attacks in the open sky.

In just a few days, they had already encountered six rogue biocore flocks. Fortunately, the pilot’s skill and quick evasive maneuvers had kept them unscathed—so far.

Nioh had counted five passengers on board, including himself, alongside a three-man crew:

The Pilot. The Mechanic. The Errand Runner – a young man named Kyle, who handled all the odd jobs.

From what Nioh gathered, Kyle was an orphan who had been part of this business for years. His ultimate dream was to become a pilot, but for now, he was stuck doing everything else—cooking, cleaning, maintenance, and whatever the crew demanded.

Among the passengers, Nioh was the only one who regularly left his cabin to breathe in the fresh air. He hadn’t interacted with the others yet, nor did he particularly care to.

He was lying on his makeshift bed, staring at the rust-streaked ceiling of his cabin, when the intercom crackled to life. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"We are approaching the border of the Daewyth region. This zone is prone to strong winds! Brace yourselves for turbulence."

Nioh raised an eyebrow before calling for Kyle. A few minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing a skinny young man in his early twenties. His rough, wind-beaten face and simple blue work clothes gave him the look of someone who had long accepted hardship. A mop was slung over one shoulder.

"Brother Hion! How can I help you?" Kyle greeted him with a friendly grin.

Hion. That was the alias Nioh had given for the flight—an extra layer of protection for his identity.

Nioh offered a casual nod. "Thanks for coming, Older Brother. You know, it’s my first time flying outside the protected routes. That announcement had me a little worried."

Kyle chuckled. "No need to stress, Brother. This is normal. The Daewyth border is sixty percent of the expanse, and the remaining forty is split between two other regions. To avoid patrols, we’ll be flying over a small section of the expanse."

Nioh hummed thoughtfully. "I heard the expanse is impossible to navigate without a predefined route."

Kyle smirked, tapping his temple. "That’s true for regular pilots. But us clandestine ones? We’ve got our ways. Experience, instincts, and a bit of luck—we make it work."

Nioh watched the younger man’s smug expression, noting the pride in his voice. He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the flickering lightbulb above.

Experience, huh?

"Take cover!" Nioh blurted as he yanked Kyle to the ground.

A deafening explosion rocked the ship, sending a violent tremor through its frame. Metal groaned under the sudden pressure, and alarms erupted in a wailing symphony of chaos. The air filled with the acrid scent of smoke and burning circuitry.

Nioh recovered first, his body still aching from past wounds, but adrenaline numbed the pain. He hauled the stunned Kyle to his feet.

"What the hell was that?!" Kyle gasped, eyes wide with panic.

"An explosion," Nioh said grimly, already assessing their worsening situation. The ship lurched, tilting into a rapid descent.

"The cockpit!" Kyle blurted, spinning on his heels and sprinting toward the front of the ship.

Nioh followed close behind, dodging flickering sparks and unstable debris littering the corridor. The sirens blared louder, their shrill cries battling against the ship’s dying engine.

When they reached the cockpit, the sight was grim. The control panel flickered erratically, wires sizzled, and worst of all—the pilot slumped lifelessly over the console, a deep gash across his temple.

Kyle shoved the pilot’s body aside, his fingers flying across the controls in a desperate attempt to stabilize their descent.

"Mechanic, report! We need a status update!" Kyle barked into the comms.

Only static.

Kyle cursed. "Damn it! We need to soften the landing, or we’ll crash hard."

"What do you need me to do?" Nioh asked, his sharp gaze darting across the flashing red warnings.

"There’s an emergency landing thruster in the engine room! If you can activate it, we might have a chance!" Kyle yelled, gripping the controls as he wrestled against the ship’s erratic movements.

Nioh didn’t waste another second. Ignoring the fire raging in his injured limbs, he sprinted through the ship, dodging broken panels and overturned crates. Smoke curled through the hallways, burning his throat as he reached the engine room.

The mechanic lay sprawled on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head—unconscious or dead, Nioh didn’t have time to check. His sharp gaze swept over the flickering control panels.

"Boiler intact. Tank leaking. Pressure’s holding. Insulation’s shot... there!" His eyes locked onto the emergency landing thruster controls.

With precise movements, he entered a series of commands, fingers slamming down on buttons as the ship gave a violent shudder. Then—stability. The rapid descent slowed.

A breath of relief barely left his lips before he turned to the mechanic. Kneeling, he pressed two fingers to the man’s neck. Nothing.

He exhaled sharply. "No time to grieve."

With a swift motion, he searched the body, grabbing a pocket toolbox and a small knife before rushing back toward Kyle.

But as he turned a corner, he nearly collided with four figures.

Two women. Two men. All armed. One carried a large box strapped to her back, her grip tight on a handgun.

They locked eyes—suspicion thick in the air.

Before anyone could speak, another explosion ripped through the ship. This time, there was no stabilizing.

As the deafening blast tore through the ship, Nioh barely had time to brace himself. The entire vessel lurched violently, sending him hurtling backward. The metal walls groaned and twisted, straining against the force of impact.

For a fleeting moment, gravity lost its grip—the floor tilted sharply, and Nioh felt himself weightless, his body suspended in midair before slamming against a bulkhead. His vision blurred as pain shot through his already wounded limbs..

Sparks erupted from severed wiring, casting flickering red and orange light against the dim interior. Smoke poured from the walls, the acrid scent of burning fuel clogging his lungs.

Somewhere beyond the chaos, he could hear Kyle screaming, but the words were drowned out by the ship’s final death throes. The hull ripped open like paper, exposing the dark expanse of the sky as the ship spun wildly, while coming apart.

Nioh forced himself up, gripping onto whatever he could to steady himself. His muscles screamed in protest, but he had no time for pain. The world outside the shattered hull was a blur of roaring winds and flashing storm lights, the ground below rushing up too fast.

Then—

Impact.

A tremendous shockwave blasted through the remains of the ship as it struck the earth, sending metal shards flying like shrapnel. The ground exploded in a shower of dirt and debris, and for a split second, everything went black.

When Nioh’s eyes fluttered open, he tasted blood in his mouth. The wreckage groaned around him, steam rising from the mangled remains of the ship. His body ached—his burns, his bruises, everything screamed in agony.

He was alive.

But was anyone else?