Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 59: Obtaining a rare material

"We cannot linger here," Nioh declared, his voice firm despite the exhaustion gnawing at him.

"Let me fix your bandages," Kyle offered, already reaching for the torn fabric across Nioh’s chest. His fingers worked with practiced efficiency, pressing against bruised flesh as he tightened the wrappings. Nioh didn’t resist—his body was too drained to protest, and Kyle’s treatment, though rough, was necessary.

Meanwhile, Brae and Juith moved to scout the perimeter, their weapons at the ready. Trum, still mortified by his reaction from the night before, remained silent, his shoulders hunched under the weight of his shame.

"How far have we strayed from the path?" Nioh asked, breaking the silence.

Kyle glanced up at the sky, his brow furrowing as he scanned the unfamiliar terrain. The land had shifted drastically, its landmarks distorted in the chaotic aftermath of their escape. He exhaled slowly. "I’m not sure. Everything looks different—I might need more time to find the right way."

Brae returned moments later, her expression tense. "There are signs of a struggle not far from here. We’re not alone."

Nioh’s jaw tightened. "We need to get out of spider territory before nightfall."

Without hesitation, the team pressed forward, this time moving at a much faster pace. The horrors of the night still clung to them like a second skin, urging them to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the death traps lurking in the dark. But while the silent spiders ruled the night, daylight brought no solace—mercenaries prowled these lands, and evading them required just as much caution.

Nioh’s wounds throbbed with every step. His biocore energy was being funneled into healing, but the relentless movement hindered the process. The pain dulled, but the exhaustion never left, lingering beneath the surface like a slow-burning ember.

Then—

A sudden harmonic wave pulsed through the air.

Nioh’s body tensed. With a sharp motion, he raised his hand, signaling the team to halt. They obeyed instantly. The events of the previous night had solidified one thing in their minds—Nioh was their lifeline. If they wanted to make it out of this expanse alive, they had to trust his instincts.

He gestured for them to crouch, then moved forward alone, his body slipping into the environment like a shadow. His steps were light, silent, his presence a whisper against the terrain. Guided by the disturbance on his scanner, he advanced toward the source of the noise fluctuation.

When he reached the clearing, his breath hitched.

A group of six mercenaries stood in formation, weapons raised, surrounding a magnificent biocore beast.

It was a fusion of predator and monstrosity—a regal tiger with a muscular, orange-and-black-striped coat, its powerful shoulders rippling with raw strength. Its four powerful legs, tipped with razor-sharp claws, propelled it with effortless grace, the very embodiment of lethal beauty.

But where its tail should have been, a monstrous serpent’s body emerged, thickly scaled and coiling across the ground with unsettling fluidity. The serpent’s head, crowned with venomous fangs and a flickering forked tongue, moved with eerie precision, tasting the air as if sensing its enemies’ every thought.

The mercenaries were struggling. Despite their tactical formation and the constant barrage of gunfire, the beast refused to fall. It dodged with unnatural agility, its dual bodies moving in perfect sync—a seamless blend of feline elegance and reptilian menace.

"This is a three-star level beast. Its biocore should help replenish my energy," Nioh thought, his gaze locked onto the brutal struggle unfolding before him. He decided to play the oriole waiting for the cicada—letting the mercenaries exhaust themselves before striking.

He remained still, watching as they poured everything they had into subduing the creature, using every ounce of strength and every trick in the book. Their formation tightened, their movements sharpened by desperation. Yet, the beast fought fiercely, its powerful frame refusing to yield easily.

As the battle raged, the rest of Nioh’s crew silently joined him. They understood his intent without a word and lay prone, waiting for his signal like predators in the tall grass.

The moment the beast let out its final, agonized roar, Nioh’s hand flicked forward.

Brae and Trum fired in quick succession, their shots cutting through the chaos, providing cover as Nioh and Juith dove into the fray like shadows striking from the dark.

Nioh’s pocket knife vibrated as he slashed across the nearest mercenary. Flesh and bone gave way—his arm exploded in a spray of crimson. Before the man could scream, Juith was already there, her plasma sword humming as it cleaved through him.

Her blade didn’t stop.

It found the next mercenary’s chest, vibrating violently as it lodged deep. A second later, he was gone—reduced to nothing but shattered pieces.

In an instant, half of the enemy force was wiped out.

The remaining mercenaries scrambled, but a rain of energy bullets from behind sealed their fate. Nioh and his team tore through them with ruthless precision, the last survivors falling under their relentless assault.

One remained, panting, his face pale with terror.

Nioh loomed over him, eyes cold. "How many of you are left?"

The mercenary swallowed hard. "I—I don’t know. We split during the night... we lost contact with the others."

A sharp crack cut off any further words. Trum had twisted his neck in a single, fluid motion. The body slumped to the ground.

Nioh exhaled. "It looks like last night’s attack did more damage than we thought. Let’s take a break—finding a fully intact biocore is rare. We can use it for food, and I need the core to replenish my energy."

"Yes, sir." The team answered in unison.

Kyle, eager to be useful, took charge of carving up the massive beast. His hands worked quickly, turning the hulking corpse into something edible. The scent of roasting meat soon filled the air, mixing with the lingering metallic tang of blood.

Meanwhile, Nioh sat in the corner, absorbing the three-star biocore. A warm, refreshing sensation washed over him as the energy coursed through his body, weaving into his veins, soothing his fatigue.

A voice broke the silence.

"Where did you get this biocore?"

Ekoh stirred from his slumber, his voice thick with exhaustion.

"It’s a long story," Nioh replied, barely glancing up. "The real question is—will it help?"

Ekoh let out a dry chuckle. "At this point? I’ll take anything I can get."

"Have at it."

In an instant, the biocore disintegrated into shimmering energy dust, vanishing into the air as Nioh felt a surge of revitalization.

By the time he joined the others, they were already eating. Kyle handed him a slice of roasted meat.

Just before taking a bite, Nioh’s gaze flickered toward the soldier trio. His voice was calm, but the weight behind it was undeniable.

"Have you decided what you’re going to do?"

Brae, Juith, and Trum exchanged uneasy glances. Tension thickened between them like a coiled serpent. They knew the truth—if Nioh decided to take the package by force, there was nothing they could do to stop him.

Their silence stretched.

Nioh took a slow breath. "I’m not in the habit of stealing from people," he said, his tone almost casual. "Although, I admit, the temptation is there. But the truth is... it’s not indispensable to me."

Brae hesitated, then spoke. "We’ve decided to offer it to you."

A slow, wicked grin spread across Nioh’s face. "Good. You’re making the right choice."

Before they could react, he moved.