Tech Hero in Another World
Chapter 158: [157]

Chapter 158: [157]

After completing the electrical installation and ensuring the TPO system was running stably, Ren decided to rest. Night had begun to creep in, and the Kitsune children were already fast asleep in the warm corner of their new base. Only the soft rustling of the wind outside accompanied the quiet of that night.

---

But elsewhere, about a kilometer southeast of the main base—in a natural alcove that served as a temporary home for Alfred, Bella, and their children—the night had not yet settled.

One of the Penal tiger cubs, known to be the most active and curious of the three, slowly opened his eyes. Something had tickled his nose. A firefly glowed softly, perching for a moment before floating gently back into the air.

"Grraa?" he murmured curiously, then rose and began chasing the tiny light with light, agile steps.

He jumped, rolled, slipped between the underbrush, and climbed the roots of massive trees with the deftness of a young hunter. Unaware, he had already strayed far from the cave, beyond the boundaries deemed safe.

In his excitement, he didn’t realize that his tiny footsteps had led him to something far from pleasant.

Bugh!

His small body slammed into something hard—a pair of large, muscular legs.

A towering figure loomed above, staring down with piercing eyes glowing in the dark. Trek.

The bison beastman stood there, his body still smeared with the blood of the monster he had just defeated.

"Aaah... found you," Trek muttered with a low, amused voice.

The tiger cub straightened his back immediately, fur bristling, tiny fangs bared as he growled—a primal show of resistance, despite his body still being so small. His growl might not scare most, but in the dark forest of night... it was the only defiance he had.

"GRRRRR!"

Trek grinned, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "Aaaw... how adorable. Come here, little one... Don’t be scared, I just want to... play..."

His steps were slow. Heavy. Each one thudding into the earth as he approached. Hot steam rose from his beastly frame, fresh from combat. But before his hand could reach the small white-furred cub—

BUAKH!!

Another large figure shot out from the dark underbrush, slamming into Trek with full force from the right. Trek’s massive frame shifted slightly from the blow, though he didn’t fall. He grunted—not entirely surprised, but clearly caught off guard.

Alfred—the male Penal tiger, the cub’s father—stood between Trek and his child. His fur stood on end, his gaze was sharp and filled with fury, and even in his miniaturized form due to a size-restricting artifact, he radiated the aura of an apex predator.

Trek smirked, blood dripping from the edge of his mouth. "Hoo... So you showed up too, stripe-head."

Alfred gave no reply. He only growled low, then lunged again. The two beasts collided—claws met muscle, fangs met bone. Their bodies clashed in a savage, deadly dance beneath the moonlight.

But no matter how fiercely Alfred fought, he knew one thing for certain: his strength in this form was limited. Every strike only pushed Trek back slightly. Even when his claws raked across his opponent’s chest, they left only shallow wounds... and the blood only made Trek more excited.

"COME ON!!" roared Trek, slamming his head forward and smashing Alfred’s jaw.

BUGH!! Alfred was knocked back, his body crashing into a massive tree. The cub cried out, wanting to help, but fear froze his tiny legs.

Alfred rose again, shaky, breath ragged. But he still stood.

Trek walked slowly, patting his chest. "Hohoho... What a pity. This isn’t my first time facing your kind."

Alfred growled, and once again—with what little strength he had—charged to protect his child. But now, every move was sluggish. Every breath came with pain. And Trek knew it.

With one brutal swing, Trek’s arm slammed into Alfred’s body like a hammer into wet clay. The Penal tiger was flung backward, crashing into the ground with a bone-jarring thud, a cloud of dust erupting around him.

"And now..." Trek hissed softly, turning his blood-hungry smile toward the frozen tiger cub, his small body trembling under the predator’s gaze. "...your turn, little one."

But just as Trek was about to step forward, Alfred’s fangs—drawing on his last reserves of strength—clamped down hard on his ankle.

"ARGHH!!"

Trek screamed, jerking back a step as sudden pain shot through him. Blood spurted from his leg, and the roar echoed through the silent night.

Alfred hissed weakly, but in his fading eyes was a clear message: Run.

The tiger cub—though trembling with fear—reacted immediately. He spun around and fled as fast as his little legs would carry him, bounding over roots and crashing through underbrush, putting distance between himself and the nightmare he’d just witnessed. His breath came ragged, but his steps did not falter.

Behind him, Trek growled in annoyance while staring at the injury in his leg. "Aww... I lost him. He was the cutest one," he muttered, sneering.

He looked down at Alfred, now lying helpless on the ground, trembling lightly from deep wounds and exhaustion. Trek approached and—with no shred of gentleness—lifted the massive tiger’s body as if it were a sack of potatoes, slinging it over his shoulder.

"But hey... good enough," he said, shrugging. "After all, you’re friends with that coward... so you can help drag him out of his hole."

Clearly referring to Ren.

Trek walked slowly toward a towering tree near the battle site, then slammed his hand into its trunk. With a single clawed finger, he began scratching crude letters into the bark. Each jagged mark sounded rough, harsh—like an axe gouging wood.

The writing was messy—like a child learning to write—but legible. A challenge, simple yet unmistakable threat:

"If you want the striped one alive, come to the arena. Bring the Miko. On the full moon night. – T."

He tapped the bark with satisfaction, then grunted while shouldering the unconscious Alfred.

"Yeah... they call me a barbaric champion. But who says beastmen can’t write, huh?"

Trek chuckled, his voice echoing beneath the trees. Then he turned and disappeared into the forest shadows, carrying Alfred’s limp body toward familiar ground—where blood and brutal fights were routine.

---

Dawn just barely touched the sky above the Penal Plains. Thin fog still clung between the trees, shrouding the cavern that had become Ren’s emergency base. The humid air still carried the faint scent of scorched metal from last night’s work. In the stillness, Ren was already awake—earlier than usual, as always.

After completing his morning routine—standing at the edge of the ravine to breathe deeply, stretching his stiff muscles, washing his face with water piped from a nearby stream—Ren returned to the cave and took his place at a makeshift workbench. The metal desk, fashioned from parts of his van, was scattered with unfinished components.

He picked up one circuit panel, exhaling slowly.

"Haaa... I’m really out of materials now," he muttered, staring at a worn scrap of metal he’d used repeatedly.

A mechanical voice—flat yet familiar—cracked from the corner.

[You’re low on essential raw materials: titanium, iron, and aluminum, in significant quantities.]

Ren looked over slightly, seeing Ultro—now in humanoid-drone form—standing beside a display that projected current material status. A soft blue glow emitted from the AI’s artificial eyes.

"Yeah, I know," Ren replied, leaning back. "Yesterday we tore half the van apart to supply materials for the TPO system... that van was my last wheeled treasure, and now half of it’s powering the electricity. Ridiculous."

[You called it a sacrifice for progress.]

"Or a reckless decision fueled by perfectionism," Ren sneered quietly. "If this continues, we need a long‑term solution. We must move into—industrial‑scale."

[I anticipated this.] Ultro raised a hand and projected a holographic topographic map of the surrounding area. [Two scout drones were dispatched last night. According to terrain and mineral composition analysis, this region is exceptionally rich in extractable mining resources.]

Ren leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he examined the color layers on the map.

"Hmm... iron here, metamorphic rock veins rich in aluminum... and this?" He pointed to a softly glowing golden-yellow trace on Ultro’s three-dimensional holographic projection.

That trace most likely indicates pure titanium deposits. If accurate, the resources there could sustain a full six months of operations.

Ren whistled softly. "That’s the best news since the TPO went online."

He stepped back from the desk, stretching his shoulders as he stood. His gaze drifted toward the back passage of the cave—the corridor he had engineered as a logistics route toward the mining zone.

"Make sure that area truly is safe. I don’t want to intrude on someone else’s territory—especially if it’s vital to the local ecosystem."

[Confirmed, Master. The location is arid rock terrain with high temperatures and extreme humidity. No signs of active ecosystem—only inhabited by "Galdra," mineral‑eating monster species. They are not endangered and are common in similar environments.]

Ren nodded thoughtfully. "Then there’s no reason to delay."

He tapped the holographic interface to issue orders: activate mining drones, open a new access channel, begin initial drilling. Everything proceeded as planned. For a moment, he allowed himself a flicker of satisfaction.

But it didn’t last.

Suddenly, a deep roar erupted from the cave entrance, echoing through the stone corridor.

"GRRRRROAAAAWR!!!"

Ren pivoted sharply, every muscle tensing. He recognized the sound.

It was unmistakably the roar of a Penal Tiger.

It didn’t take long for the Kitsune children asleep in the rear chamber to awaken, blinking in confusion. One of them even stood, tail bristling, ears quivering, while the other two pressed close together, eyes wide.