"Little Ai, Little Ai?" Morin appeared inside his villa and called out immediately.
The feeling was oddly familiar.
Before transmigrating, he had used a Huawei phone.
"I'm here," Little Ai replied.
"Send me all available data on the Predator civilization," Morin said.
"Their writing system and meanings too. The version they're currently using."
"Also, contact the soldier I video-called earlier."
"I've already retrieved the data and placed it on the tablet in this room," Little Ai replied.
"Connecting video now."
The call connected.
Morin entered the room, picked up the tablet, and began browsing while speaking.
"Officer, do you need assistance?" the soldier asked immediately.
"The warship is standing by."
"No," Morin shook his head.
"I've already resolved it."
He didn't give the soldier time to question him.
"If I turn in a Predator civilization warship, completely intact, how much reward would I receive?"
"...What did you say?" The soldier froze.
That reaction was normal.
It had been less than ten minutes since their last call.
Morin had said he'd handle it.
Now he was saying it was done.
Anyone would doubt it.
Morin knew that.
But he had no choice, even if it meant exposing some of his strength.
Because he had finally understood why the massive sum the Red Queen sent him didn't count as experience points.
It wasn't because of any loophole.
And it wasn't the amount.
It was his identity.
In this world, Morin had two identities arranged by the system.
One was a ten-year retired veteran on Earth.
The other was a ten-year retired veteran of the Interstellar Federation's Honor Legion.
The latter was real.
The former was a disguise.
Was money earned under a fake identity legal?
Maybe.
But the system didn't recognize it.
In every world, Morin drew a profession.
And the system provided a matching identity.
If he didn't earn money using that identity properly, it wouldn't convert to experience.
For example, with the [Police] profession, the system placed him in Gotham City.
If he worked as a police officer elsewhere, the money wouldn't count.
In some worlds, identity restrictions were looser.
Like the Now You See Me world.
There, Morin earned experience as an IRS employee.
But he still had to pass the certification first.
The same rule applied here.
If Morin wanted experience using the [Ten-Year Veteran] identity, he had to earn money in line with that profession.
Which meant-
Requesting compensation from the Interstellar Federation.
Because his true identity here was a retired Federation soldier.
As for the Honor Legion...
Morin wasn't sure how the system arranged that.
But with a name like that, it clearly wasn't ordinary.
"I'll look into it later..." Morin thought, then continued.
"I've dealt with the Predators. All of them are dead. If I hand over the warship, what's the reward? Also, after this battle, my condition seems much better. I plan to return to the Federation. Can you arrange that?"
"Of course!" The soldier replied instantly, snapping to attention.
"I'll make the arrangements immediately!"
He felt absurd.
One person wiping out an entire Predator warship?
It shouldn't be possible.
But questioning it wasn't his job.
"That decision will be made by my superiors," he thought.
"If the warship is completely intact..." the soldier added hesitantly,
"it should be worth at least one hundred million Federation coins."
"So you don't know either," Morin sighed.
"Send someone to receive it first. I'm not in a rush."
"Yes, sir!"
The call ended.
"So just how high-ranking is this identity..." Morin muttered.
Anyone else making those requests would've been labeled insane.
But not him.
The soldier followed orders without hesitation.
Even had a warship on standby.
That left only one explanation.
His retired veteran status.
"Honor Legion..." Morin frowned.
He asked Little Ai to project all related data.
Even Little Ai's authority was suspicious.
When Morin had requested Predator data earlier, he'd expected little more than a dictionary.
But the information was extensive.
And clearly classified.
With this level of access, being told he was "just" a retired veteran was laughable.
After scanning the Honor Legion overview, Morin finally understood.
The Honor Legion was the Interstellar Federation's honorary legion.
Membership was reserved for warriors with extraordinary combat achievements.
The threshold was high.
The authority even higher.
That explained everything.
"So that's how it is..." Morin fell silent.
He had always liked using existing resources efficiently.
With an identity like this, not using it would be a waste.
But there were still things to deal with.
Morin headed for the Hive.
Although he could now communicate with the Red Queen through Little Ai, some things required personal confirmation.
Like the xenomorphs.
Where was the xenomorph queen?
Neither Morin nor the Red Queen knew.
All records regarding it were missing.
But it had to be dealt with.
A xenomorph queen was like an ant queen.
As long as it existed, face-huggers would keep appearing.
Face-huggers produced workers.
Workers found hosts.
Exponential growth.
A true plague.
In both reproduction and threat, xenomorphs far surpassed zombies.
At least for humans on Blue Star.
Since he was already involved, Morin decided to clear them all.
After all.
He was Blue Star's administrative officer.
Whether that earned him extra rewards later was secondary.
Of course, that wasn't why he was doing this.
Absolutely not.
"How did you do it?" Morin asked when he saw Alice.
"I killed him," Alice replied.
Her voice trembled slightly.
"And Spence... he released the T-virus, right?"
"Yes," Morin nodded.
"You already know."
"But there should be one more person," he added.
"What about Ms. Alicia?"
"She said her weakness nearly destroyed the world," Alice said quietly.
"She chose to stay below and die with the Hive."
"She also gave me all the memories I was missing..."
With her memories complete, was she still a clone?
Alice couldn't answer that.
"You need time," Morin said.
"But congratulations on your new beginning."
"I still need to speak with her," he continued.
"She's down there?"
"Yes," Alice nodded.
"What do you want to ask?"
"About something worse than the T-virus," Morin said.
"The alien species I mentioned. Xenomorphs."
"There should be a massive one. A queen."
"If we don't deal with it, they'll spread again."
"They're far more dangerous than zombies."
"I think I remember something..." Alice frowned.
"You do?" Morin asked.
"A desert," she said slowly.
"But my memories aren't fully sorted yet. Some are missing."
"We should ask Alicia."
They descended to the core control area.
Along the way, dignitaries and Umbrella's top executives lay in hibernation pods.
Waiting for the end of their "Apocalypse" plan.
Waiting to wake up and rule a new world.
They didn't know the plan had ended.
Just not the way they imagined.
They would never wake up.
In two days, nuclear fire would erase them.
Their clones-created to replace them-
would become the only versions left.
Morin and Alice reached the final level.
Alicia waited there.
She looked like elderly Alice, despite being only in her twenties.
The T-virus slowed her aging.
But each injection worked less.
Eventually, it would turn her into a zombie.
Knowing that, Alicia chose to stop.
Now, she waited for death.
Morin didn't persuade her.
They weren't close.
And she was one of the people responsible.
Right and wrong weren't always clear.
Morin didn't need them to be.
"I remember that creature," Alicia said after listening.
"In the center of the Nevada desert."
"There's a secret Umbrella base."
"It isn't under the Red Queen."
"That AI should be... the White Queen."
"I understand," Morin nodded.
"Thank you."
"No," Alicia said, bowing slightly from her wheelchair.
"I should thank you."
Her body was failing.
Even slight movement could kill her.
"If not for you," she said softly,
"this world would've ended because of my cowardice."
She could've stopped Isaacs.
She didn't.
"No problem," Morin replied.
"I just don't like seeing tragedies I can prevent."
Then he asked,
"Would you like me to send you on your way?"
"That would be wonderful," Alicia smiled.
"It's an honor to die by your hand."
"Farewell, Ms. Alicia Marcus," Morin said solemnly.
"Farewell, Mr. Morin."
She never lifted her head again.
Morin ended her suffering.
"Let's go," he said to Alice.
They left together.
"What will you do now?" Morin asked.
"I... don't know," Alice admitted, staring at her hands.
"My body's strengthened. I won't become a zombie."
"But living a normal life seems impossible."
"I see..." Morin paused.
"I have a position that suits you."
"What is it?"
"Would you like to be the administrative officer of this planet?"
Alice froze.
"For now, you'd be my secretary."
"I'll leave later."
"You can take over then."
"Planetary... administrative officer?" Alice was stunned.
Morin explained.
His Interstellar Federation identity.
Blue Star as a life experience.
The outbreak and invasion were unexpected.
But the idea worked.
Morin would leave.
The position couldn't remain empty.
Alice had the ability.
And no clear path.
"...I agree," Alice said immediately.
A vast universe opened before her.
Who could resist that?
Especially someone who could never be ordinary again.
"Good," Morin nodded.
"Go to my villa and wait."
"I'll deal with the xenomorphs in Nevada."
"Shouldn't I come with you?" Alice asked.
"If I'm taking over later, shouldn't I train?"
"No," Morin waved his hand.
"Planetary administrative officers don't do what I do."
"Otherwise, 9,999 out of 10,000 would die."
"I'm an exception."
Alice frowned.
"But I'm not ordinary either."
"My abilities-"
"That's true," Morin admitted.
Her potential was real.
Developing it wasn't a bad idea.
"Alright," he agreed.
They boarded a special aircraft arranged by the Red Queen.
Destination-
The Nevada desert.
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