Seeing Beatrix say nothing, Aurelia couldn't help but smile.
"Ha, you're worried about psychological side effects, aren't you? Don't worry—our memory-erasure technique is quite advanced. We can remove specific memories based on keywords, and it generally doesn't affect unrelated memories."
Beatrix noticed the use of the phrase "under normal conditions," and instinctively sensed something was off.
"So what about abnormal conditions?" he asked.
"Well… nothing's absolute. No matter how advanced the technology, mistakes can happen," Aurelia admitted, thinking for a moment. "There was one time I remember—some guy had his memories wiped, and afterward, he forgot he was even a guy. His sense of gender just... vanished."
Beatrix: "…"
"Well, it's not a big deal," Aurelia continued casually. "First off, the odds are really low—usually the procedure is flawless."
"Besides, being a bit in touch with your feminine side isn't so bad. Boys who dress well are even cuter than girls these days!"
Beatrix's face darkened.
Luckily, he had already decided to join them. This dangerous task of "wearing women's clothes" would have to fall to someone else with… destiny.
"That said," he glanced around at the people in the vehicle, "are all of you... peculiar?"
"Exactly," Aurelia nodded.
"So, are you all... gifted?" Beatrix asked.
"Hah! If only it were that easy," Aurelia laughed. "Being 'special' doesn't mean you're automatically stronger, and it doesn't mean the anomaly will infect others."
"In fact, the infection rate among 'specials' is much lower than in regular humans. Only a few rare individuals reach an infection coefficient above 90%—that's considered high."
"My average is about 52%. Bernica's is around 30%. And our driver over there—"
She glanced at the man behind the wheel.
"Twenty-seven," he replied, expressionless.
"Ah, right, 27%. I remembered that."
Beatrix realized he wasn't the only one who thought this guy had a bit of a "blank slate" vibe.
"The highest among us is Agent Cid—87%," Aurelia continued, pointing at the bald man humming quietly.
Beatrix peeked at him. Sure enough, Cid was still humming the same strange tune he'd been humming earlier.
He'd never heard it before, but it felt like some old, haunting lullaby.
"This coefficient reflects how strongly one is affected. The higher the value, the more pronounced the 'special' traits become. Higher numbers usually mean greater power."
"But of course, combat ability also depends on things like training, technique, weapon use, instincts, and strategy."
"With enough skill, even someone with a lower infection rate can defeat someone stronger."
Beatrix nodded. Sounded just like the classic shonen logic in novels.
He mentally simplified it using a school analogy:
It's like a first-grader fighting a second-grader.
There's an undeniable gap in raw stats—second graders know multiplication; first graders just count on their fingers.
But if the first-grade protagonist has talent, he could use "fifteen years of battle memory" to punch way above his level. Maybe he's got a brain-linked supercomputer no one else dares use—pulling it out would basically let him "flex" in front of the whole school.
Soon, the vehicle stopped in front of a modest two-story building hidden by thick greenery.
Beatrix followed the others through the front entrance.
"Disappointed?" Aurelia teased. "Were you expecting something cooler for our headquarters?"
Beatrix didn't answer, but truthfully… yes.
After all their bragging about being the last line of defense, this plain little office looked more like the community center than a top-secret organization.
Aurelia smirked, not explaining.
They entered.
Next to the door was a reception booth. A guard sat there with his feet up, reading a newspaper. He glanced lazily at the group, then went back to his paper.
After walking down a long corridor, they reached an elevator.
Strangely, it only had buttons for 1 and 2.
Aurelia ignored them.
Instead, she pressed her fingers against a hidden panel—
A section of the metal wall flipped open, revealing a complex code interface.
Her fingers danced over the keypad.
Then, without selecting any floor, the elevator started to move—downward.
Beatrix guessed the truth.
Classic spy movie setup.
A secret base disguised by an ordinary surface. Like the tailor shop in Kingsman, or the bakery from The Matrix.
He felt proud to have figured it out.
But then the elevator… shifted direction.
It started moving forward.
Beatrix blinked.
Wait. Can elevators even go sideways underground?!
Eventually, the door opened.
He was greeted by a long metal corridor, glowing with cool white LED-like lights embedded into the alloy walls.
He felt like he'd walked into a sci-fi film.
As they moved deeper, sliding doors automatically opened, revealing a massive room filled with floating screens, futuristic interfaces, and people in sleek uniforms.
Men and women moved briskly, monitoring displays and typing away at holograms.
Beatrix stared.
"Is this your underground base?" he asked.
Aurelia smiled mysteriously.
"Not quite."
---
A few minutes later.
The calm surface of a lake rippled gently.
Suddenly, the water surged upward.
Something massive broke the surface like a beast rising from the deep.
A giant black structure—part battleship, part fortress—emerged from the depths.
It resembled an aircraft carrier… except it could fly.
Six massive turbine engines roared to life, vaporizing water into steam as flames burst downward, lifting the enormous ship into the sky like some kind of floating fortress.
Beatrix stood inside the main control deck, watching through a huge window as waves crashed below them.
His lips twitched.
"How's this for a surprise?" Aurelia grinned. "This is one of only five mobile command towers in the world. Think of it as an aircraft carrier… in the sky."
Beatrix: "…"
He looked again.
No, seriously—wasn't this just S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier?!
And if he remembered correctly… those things crashed all the time.
Even Maria Hill once said in a Marvel film:
"This thing goes down at least three times a year."
Come to think of it, these flying battleships were cursed in every sci-fi story.
Cool on paper. But in the end?
Doomed to fall.
Beatrix had seen too many movies to feel excited.
He didn't see a high-tech marvel.
He saw a flying death trap.