Chapter 1518: NO．134：At the racetrack, everyone has their own business to attend to

NO．134：At the racetrack, everyone has their own business to attend to.

Slumped against the collapsed metal staircase, the Baltan alien panted violently; its cicada-like eyes, lacking any sense of liveliness, were full of genuine stupidity.

He came from another universe; as a member of the Beast Cult, he wielded several different monster powers, and his own background was illustrious——

——Although Baltan aliens have always been called 'utterly loyal' for being wiped out by the first generation, the Baltan aliens who fully embraced militarism are, like many invaders who once visited Earth, a prestigious family in the field of invasion.

The entire race, each individual could be called a 'cosmic ninja'; born to gather alien intelligence and exterminate alien life, they regard this as their foremost life goal and honor.

But precisely because of this culture and education, their intense invasions everywhere eventually ended——they kicked an iron plate.

When an Ultraman appears in the story, there's no need to elaborate further.

With high frequency of appearances and high intensity of being counter‑killed, in the end they merely added to some Ultraman's tally of victories; even if a few individuals survived, they still learned nothing, and finally withdrew completely from the cosmic stage.

By this point, the story of the Baltan aliens in Sai Luo's universe could be considered finished, but since the concept of the multiverse has been brought up, the Baltan aliens' story is obviously not over.

In fact, even the universe where Diga resides has Baltan aliens reappearing in the comics, let alone the Holy Terra Federation, which readily accepts trans‑universal and otherworldly things—it's more like a trash‑heap cosmic bubble compared to the cemetery hub.

Under normal impressions they are nearly extinct; even when they reappear they must be cosmic ninjas from other universes, yet here they still display a presence no less than that of the Barosa aliens, and not only in the Federation's current cosmic bubble but also in parallel worlds—just as they add difficulty to the Federation's census!

Yes, increase the difficulty.

Compared to the wavering Black Commander, who once hesitated whether to persist in invasion, and compared to Abru, who simply went into stable business, the Baltan aliens present in the Federation show an astonishing consistency in stance——they all adhere to the ancestral way of life, mingling in gray and even black‑zone areas, living a life where invasion activities are unrealistic yet they still cannot honestly do business.

This Beast Cult Baltan alien is no exception.

Even this Baltan alien once felt quite fortunate.

Because, unlike many comrades who were driven to desperation and had to rely on monster power—a force strictly banned by the Federation—he was a criminal from the start.

From the outset he sought weapons that worked fast and posed a big threat, legality be damned, and what he finally found was still the old family's neighboring trade.

Biological weapons, that is, monsters.

Although he did not neglect racial techniques such as invisibility, instant movement, possession, regeneration, flight, light bullets, transformation, and duplication, after enjoying the benefits of using monsters, monster‑material weapons, and power itself, he indeed somewhat neglected cultivating those techniques.

Thus, now that he is forbidden to directly release monsters or to enlarge them, he can only fight at his own size……

He and his team were blasted through by a long‑eared woman dressed entirely in green, even her helmet green, leaving him somewhat dazed.

No, it's also hard to say whether she is a woman.

He poked his head out from behind the steel frame, revealing his imitation‑new‑Baltan‑alien‑shaped horn, custom‑modified to twist like a beetle's double mandibles; with his orange eyes he watched the 'ah‑ya', 'ya‑ba', 'gu‑wa' etc. weakling hit sounds as cheap colleagues were beaten up, yet he could likewise hear the opponent's low shouts of exertion when they fought.

Although the voice sounded like a typical female of this world, and she had what seemed like horse ears and a horse tail—features of a horse girl—the outline drawn by her tight suit studded with metal plates was so slender it hardly seemed feminine.

How can it be so flat?

The Baltan alien believes he understands the Federation's infiltration of both universes quite deeply, and he has carefully considered humanity, knowing that whether a human woman or a horse girl, no matter their deviation value, their performance is merely a matter of how high or low their chest rises and falls.

Even if low, there should at least be some curvature! That guy really is rare……

"Oh ya, oh ya oh ya, since we've already called in reinforcements, I thought it was a very urgent situation—how is there still a gentleman sitting here resting?"

"Po… Poltardo?"

The sudden sound's fright made the Baltan alien shiver; turning his head, he saw a gloomy helmet and his heart turned cold—then it rose again.

After all, such a gloomy helmet doesn't match the enemy's style; it must be one of our own.

And the identification function he instantly activated on his instrument did indeed give out a completed identity certificate, which he still read as unfamiliar.

This name is not in the club member list he had previously looked through; it's said to be……reinforcement?

Really?

He glanced at the distant chaos of chickens flying and dogs jumping, then at the helmet nearby which at first glance looked like a space‑person's guy, and without further thought he grabbed the pliers and pointed at the distance: "You—you look over there first, no, can you handle her?"

He didn't lower his voice, but lowering it wouldn't have helped anyway; far off, the double ears covered by the helmet and further wrapped in some pliable metal twitched, and the helmet's eye sockets glowing with green light immediately loomed over.

"Any more enemies—are they reinforcements?"

"Ah, right! Exactly!" Far off, standing behind Carrot Hero‑Grass‑cutting, Nishizaki Yutaka, who was applying a fairly standard joint lock to choke someone out, looked over, hesitated, then hurriedly emphasized confirmation.

"We need to deal with it quickly!"

The statement, seemingly emphasized by its wording, made Carrot Hero a bit concerned, whereas the tall, steady helmet‑man in the distance had already begun to chant:

"Fargaress."/Reaching for the Moon

In an instant, it shot out and expanded from his wrist into a black, net‑like encircling expansion, already lunging to strangle her; she reacted instantly, slashing her wrist at astonishing speed and drawing a dark‑green longsword from the carrot‑shaped light curtain.

Consecutive slashes! Only an instant needed!

Five blades of light shattered the great net, and at the moment her vision cleared she released steam from her running boots, stepping forward with an impact—yet saw no one there.

When she turned back, she was even more astonished.

"They're all gone."

After Nishizaki Yutaka finished speaking, having just crouched and plucked an identity pin from between bloodstains and grime, he stood up and glanced around the empty mess.

The bodies that should have been strewn about were nowhere to be found, all swallowed by that earlier strange ground hollow.

Separating people from objects, the strange black hole that hadn't swallowed everything left Nishizaki Yutaka feeling novel; he couldn't tell at once whether this was Aomo's micro‑control ability growing stronger or simply his having mastered a new skill.

But these matters aren't suitable for discussion now, and they must even remain secret, so facing the girl's inquisitive gaze he simply raised his hand forward.

"Let's keep moving; these people were never the focus anyway."

Walking down the passage behind the mostly broken Golden Ancient Bridge component, Nishizaki Yutaka eagerly hoped to see more astonishing evidence of collusion, and he believed Aomo felt the same.

But unfortunately, that guy has his own business to attend to.

Just thinking of this, he slipped his hand into his pocket, feigning calm while actually feeling the newly bulging hard object, somewhat angular, like a……box?

"?!"

He immediately pulled his hand out, staring at the silver metal box engraved with a ferocious demon skull, crescent moon, and serpentine pattern; tapping the usual press‑switch on the edge, his eyes widened.

This……this is his deck?

But why was it stuffed into his pocket?