"So, you set your sights on the countless Destroyed Worlds within the Sea of Quanta described in Miss Herta's writings."
Destroyed Worlds.
A fleeting mention in Herta's works on the Sea of Quanta.
It seemed like nothing worth paying attention to.
But anyone capable of making a name in the cosmos is never an ordinary person.
Destroyed Worlds, could they actually be worlds whose conditions are like this, worlds proven by there entire realms being destroyed!?
And in that deep sea, full of strange and alluring mystery, there are countless such worlds!
No one doubts Miss Herta's research results.
She is someone who has twice spoken to the Aeon of Erudition, the 83rd seat of the Genius Society. Even a random research project piled up in her warehouse could shock the universe.
A genius who walked too fast, too far ahead, to the point that some unknown force forcibly intervened in her work!
Combined with her proud and unyielding personality, no one would ever suspect her of falsifying research. A genius disdains fabrication.
That's what the Intelligentsia Guild would do.
Any faction in the galaxy with the means has begun investigating this unfamiliar field.
Unfortunately, to this day, not a single faction has made significant progress.
Many want to seek Herta's help, but for this eccentric genius, simply letting others know such a magnificent, miraculous place exists is already more effort than she cares to spend.
How could she possibly agree to help people with mixed motives?
"Destroyed Worlds."
Dr. Primitive slowly closed his eyes, lifted his head, as though feeling a sensation he had never experienced before.
"No, those are not failures. That is their unwillingness to stagnate, the process of self-repair, and I ..."
"Bang!!!"
This time, before Dr. Primitive could finish his words, a gunshot broke the atmosphere.
Gunpowder smoke curled from the barrel. Boothill lifted the brim of his hat, a mocking smile on his face.
"What nonsense are you spouting? In the end, isn't it still this thing that decides who has the right to speak? Come on then, bastard! If Galaxy Rangers can corner you once, he can corner you twice!"
Boothill more or less understood. This guy came all the way here just to spout meaningless words, maybe even something meant to confuse their minds?
"Ninja Silvergun Shura is correct. No matter how enticing your tunes are Evil Ninja Osaru, they are all false, illusions built atop the suffering of all beings, fleeting as dreams. I, for one, will never allow a wicked Ninja like you to continue harming the world!"
Facing the firm stance of the two Galaxy Rangers, Dr. Primitive did not respond. He simply smiled at them, and from the spot where Boothill's bullet had pierced him, his virtual projection began to slowly fade.
Until it vanished completely.
"Tch." Clicking his tongue, Boothill looked toward Silver Wolf, who was rhythmically tapping her virtual keyboard.
"Hey, sis, you done yet? Any later and we won't even know where that guy's buried himself. Bana"
"Calm down. He can't run from me."
Suddenly, Silver Wolf's eyes lit up. She hit the final key with a sharp whoosh.
"Found him! It's just that the location is a little..." Silver Wolf's expression became strange, puzzled.
"What's wrong?" Seeing her expression, Kafka leaned in curiously.
"It's nothing. Just didn't expect his escape point to be there."
Shaking her head lightly, Silver Wolf exhaled and revealed the answer everyone was waiting for.
"The Family's Court of Harmony ."
Upon hearing the words, Kafka's face showed obvious surprise.
"The Court of Harmony? If I recall, that's where the Family first rose to prominence. Ever since the Family's formal establishment, it's always been a heavily fortified zone." Blade explained for those unfamiliar.
He too was confused. Why would Dr. Primitive be there? He could appear anywhere, yet he was in the Family's core territory, as though deliberately making some kind of statement.
The Family... could it be that their research on the Sea of Quanta has already reached the forefront of the universe, second only to Miss Herta?
Impossible to know. Nor did they need to know.
All they needed to do was strike Dr. Primitive down when he was most pleased with himself, preventing the major event Elio foretold.
Speaking of which, whether that shocking impact that Boothill felt from Dr. Primitive was positive or negative, all choices lay in their hands.
....
A single hand holding up an entire world. Sun and moon in the palm.
Within it, faint figures could be seen scattering in all directions, trying to find the boundary of this world, yet always at the critical moment, they would be shifted, repositioned, rotated away as the stars turned.
He placed it down gently. As if it were a precious collectible.
This was the Family's heartland, the Court of Harmony.
And yet now it was occupied by someone who absolutely did not belong here.
"Truly beautiful..." Dr. Primitive couldn't help but sigh. He lifted his head slightly. Before him were layer upon layer of underground vaults.
Each one a world. Every single one of them, worlds!!
They were Dr. Primitive's meticulously prepared welcoming ceremony.
Waiting only for the right moment to harvest them all in one sweep.
And now, the moment of that long-awaited season was nearly upon him.
As he eagerly savored this rare moment of accomplishment, an alien fluctuation came from behind.
"Let me see... mm, yep, this is the place. Hey, you over there! You've been caught!"
Silver Wolf planted one hand on her hip, pointing arrogantly at Dr. Primitive, who seemed lost in admiration.
Before Silver Wolf could continue. Boothill vanished from his spot, whipping up a fierce wind as he charged.
"Get over here, you banana-brained clown!"
Perhaps drawn by Boothill's shout, Dr. Primitive turned slightly. His face was handsome, faintly tinged with melancholy, as though mourning for all beings in the universe.
Boothill's pupils trembled.
He didn't care about appearances, well, although good looks do add some points, but what bothered him now was another problem.
He... couldn't move forward.
No matter how much strength he used, he couldn't advance even an inch. He stomped the ground fiercely, raising his twin pistols toward Dr. Primitive.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two deafening gunshots. Boothill was stunned to see the bullets suspended midair right where he had stalled!
Unable to move.
Boothill finally understood the literal meaning of those words.
"Galaxy Ranger Boothill. A pleasure to meet you."
"A pleasure your bana head!!"
Even though certain modifications to his synesthetic beacon had once again changed him, nothing could stop the real Boothill from expressing himself.
Sometimes, body language hurts more than words.
Dr. Primitive no longer carried the passionate tone he used earlier when speaking with them. Now he felt more like a young man weighed down by some inner melancholy.
Damn it, who knew what kind of surgery this guy performed on himself, to leave such an impression. Boothill's sudden assault failing was expected.
Rappa took a step forward, his gaze settling on the thing before Dr. Primitive.
"Evil Ninja Osaru, what is that?!"
What sort of evil object was this, able to trap people within it? Completely unheard of.
Even the barriers she had encountered in the past had never possessed such frightening power. The Evil Ninja had indeed become as strong as Master Kucha described,
No, stronger. Rappa's expression grew grim.
Dealing with such evil ninja really does require caution. A single misstep and everything will be lost.
But as long as I join forces with the other ninja heroes, no matter how many hardships or dangers we face, there will always be a chance.
Against the Evil Ninja Osaru, it is our duty to fight!
"Something feels… off." Kafka whispered softly, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Seeing this, Blade stepped forward, slowly drawing the his sword.
Cold light flickered along its edge, even across several divine ranks, one could still sense the chilling aura clinging to it.
Those were the lingering souls that perished against the his sword. Thick, scarlet blood stained its blade; every swing demanded a price the enemy could hardly endure.
"Everyone says Dr. Primitive is notoriously infamous, yet across the cosmos, there are very few records of the methods you've left behind. Today, let me test you."
His left hand formed a sword-sign, gently wiping along the edge. The sword's surface reflected Blade's eyes, eyes brimming with murderous intent.
He charged in without hesitation!
....
What methods does Dr. Primitive have?
Few truly know. Even if someone witnessed the Doctor's attacks with their own eyes, escaping his overwhelming perception was nearly impossible.
The prestige of am Emanator of Erudition did not come solely from research that shocked the universe time and time again, it also came from power great enough to shake all.
Each Emanator had different areas of expertise, but one thing was known across all the cosmos:
Even if an Emanator wasn't skilled in combat, their vast sea-like Imaginary energy and the might of their path energy could forcibly tear a person apart.
And if such an Emanator learned to wield that power properly... then the cosmos would gain yet another being standing at its peak.
"Bang!"
"Splurt!"
Blood scattered. No one paid it any mind.
At first Rappa worried for Blade, but after witnessing him die again and again, several times without even a trace of a corpse left, only for him to return perfectly intact, her concern faded.
Instead, she shifted to asking when she would finally be allowed to act.
At the front now was Blade alone. Boothill still not able to act.
Blade repeatedly launched suicidal assaults relying solely on his own overwhelming strength and immortality, while Boothill tried to observe the weaknesses in Dr. Primitive's bizarre abilities for a single decisive strike.
But Dr. Primitive was like an old tortoise hiding in the bushes, unmoving. No matter how they approached, nothing worked.
Ahead lay countless weapons developed by the Doctor, blocking their advance and even tearing apart his bodies.
After all, Blade couldn't die, and actually wanted to die. He too wanted to test this Stellaron Hunter.
Boothill breaking free from his position, immediately shot at Dr. Primitive. But as before, they bounced without a single scratch.
"What the hell is wrong with this guy? I never heard he was this troublesome."
Staring at the still-smoking gun barrels, Boothill couldn't help clicking his tongue.
Was Dr. Primitive always this powerful? As expected, the dose last time had been too low.
He really should have planted antimatter bombs across that entire star system. Dr. Primitive had already turned the place into a monkey planet anyway, blowing it up would've been pure profit.
But now wasn't the time for nostalgia. His gun was practically overheating, and the guy still wasn't moving at all. It was hard to associate him with those energetic monkeys of his.
Blade said nothing, simply continued swinging his sword.
Behind them, Kafka asked Silver Wolf: "Foundd a breakthrough yet?"
"Nope. Something's wrong with that guy. The Imaginary-energy readings here are massively over the limit. I seriously don't know what Dr. Primitive set up in this place. Is his entire body made of sleep-engineers or what!?"
This time Silver Wolf was genuinely losing her composure.
She was a well-known "gaming expert" on the rankings, after all.
And such gaming experts usually had one common trait, they understood a bit of tech.
Silver Wolf wanted to wiggle her fingers and disable Dr. Primitive's defenses, but the layers surrounding him were endless. She had already cracked ten, yet still hadn't touched the core. Judging by his posture, he could probably keep this up all day!
Damn… why did no one tell her beforehand that she'd be dealing with this kind of thing!?
Still, complaints were complaints, the job had to be done.
Otherwise, if Elio docked her pay, she wouldn't be able to afford next season's game and would have to borrow food from Kafka again.
Rappa didn't understand Silver Wolf's tech. Ether-editing was high-tier even by galactic standards.
But although she didn't understand the details, her genes, gathered from dozens of planets, allowed her to sense some things.
"Why is the Ninjutsu there so stable yet so chaotic?"
Hearing Rappa's question, Silver Wolf answered without looking up: "That spot is an Imaginary-energy extraction point set by Dr. Primitive. I'm trying to break through it right now. Tch, I've finally met a real opponent."
A barrier, huh… Rappa fell into thought.
If it was a barrier, she did have a bit of experience. Maybe she could help Gamer ninja.
Thinking while observing the battlefield, she prepared to join the fight at any time.
Another volley of bullets from Boothill failed to break through the Imaginary-constructed defenses, and Blade was killed once again by an invisible blade. Suddenly Rappa's pupils trembled.
She quickly turned her head, voice urgent: "Gamer Ninja! Did the barrier set by the Evil Ninja Osaru fluctuate just now!?"
"Nope, it's stable."
Silver Wolf lifted her head in confusion, about to tell Rappa not to distract her, when Rappa urgently said: "What if the Evil Ninja Osaru never set a barrier at all, but instead used the special environment here to achieve the same effect?!"
The moment those words fell, it was like thunder striking. Silver Wolf froze for several seconds before blinking.
"Why didn't I think of that earlier!?" Dr. Primitive was strong, his tech unmatched.
His defences could perfectly block the power of a Stellaron Hunter, with the support of a Galaxy Ranger.
But they should not have been without any fluctuation. This universe, most of the time, still obeyed the laws of energy conservation.
Even the Aeons respected that. So where did Dr. Primitive obtain a device capable of stable output without any fluctuation in attack or defense?
With that hint, Silver Wolf got to work, and it was like clouds clearing to reveal the sky.
Moments later she stopped, an expression of I knew it on her face.
"As expected, his Imaginary energy is being drawn entirely from one place! He just wrapped a shell around it!!"
Kafka leaned forward slightly, looking at the scene unfolding on Silver Wolf's screen. Her tone was faintly puzzled, "This place… looks a little familiar?"
....
"What's going on over there?"
On the Imaginary Tree, as the days of eating and drinking well increased, Godzilla's size once again grew, including his size in reality.
Truly sky-blotting, land-covering, overwhelmingly massive.
But in reality, Godzilla consciously suppressed that growth. He could expand anytime with a single thought. If he grew without restraint, would he just drift across the universe like debris?
He'd rather sleep comfortably.
At this moment, Godzilla's gaze fell upon one of the far reaches.
It was the place he accidentally punched through earlier when subduing the Cocoon of Finality.
Normally the Imaginary Tree would mend such spots on its own, so he never bothered.
But now… something strange seemed to be happening there again…