Rebuild World: Volume 1 Part 2 E-Book

Nahuse

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Rebuild World
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 444

Beschreibung

Akira has come a long way from his life on the streets. He’s a proper hunter now, with a roof over his head, food on his plate, and cash in his pocket. And under the guidance of the mysterious Alpha, he continues to acquire superior weapons, skills, and gear. But success has its downsides, and unfamiliar threats are hurtling toward him—both in the desert wastelands and in the city streets.
Akira’s deal with aspiring gang leader Sheryl puts him in conflict with the rival bosses eyeing her territory, and it’s going to take more than firepower to navigate the web of schemes and alliances ensnaring the slums. Meanwhile, a massive swarm of monsters bursts out of the ruins, heading straight for Kugamayama City. Rushing to answer the call for help offers Akira a fresh chance for advancement, but the real danger may prove to be his fellow hunters...

Leseprobe

Chapter 15: Thank-yous and Debts

Akira found himself standing in the midst of an endless whiteness, a space as barren as if it had never finished being created. But he felt neither nervous nor surprised; at some dim level of awareness, he realized that he was dreaming.

A gorgeous woman stood beside him. Her face, almost impossibly beautiful, revealed her to be Alpha, the woman he had met under mysterious circumstances back on his first day as a hunter in the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins. Although she looked perfectly real to him, no one could touch her, and almost no one could even see or hear her. But despite her secrets, to him she was his savior. She always wore a cheerful smile for him, except when he was in danger, and so he always thought of her as having that expression.

Which was why he was slow to recognize her now. Her face was blank, and her gaze focused straight ahead, like a puppet without a puppeteer. Yet he could hear her speaking:

“Attempt number one: failure. Destination not reached. Continuation impossible due to death of subject. Support procedures require review.”

She spoke as if she were merely reading through some records. Her voice gave no indication of interest as she continued:

“Attempt number two: failure. Destination not reached. Continuation impossible due to death of subject. Combat support procedures require review.”

She rattled off a few more records. “Attempt number fifteen: failure. Destination not reached. Continuation impossible due to breach of contract. Subject living but declined request due to injury. Guidance procedures require adjustment.

“Attempt number sixteen: failure. Area One reached. Continuation impossible due to death of subject. Combat support procedures require additional review.”

Alpha’s expression never changed. Was she completely oblivious to Akira’s presence?

“Attempt number eighty-seven: failure. Area Seven reached. Continuation impossible due to death of subject. Combat support procedures require additional review.

“Attempt number eighty-eight: failure. Area Four reached. Continuation impossible due to breach of contract. Subject living but declined request due to loss of motivation. Guidance procedures require adjustment.”

She kept droning on, but gradually a pattern emerged from her words, a story of slow but persistent progress toward some unknown goal.

“Attempt number 497: failure. Area Nine reached. Continuation impossible due to death of subject. Combat support procedures require additional review.

“Attempt number 498: failure. Final area reached. Continuation impossible due to breach of contract. Subject entirely hostile. Disposal complete. Overall guidance procedures require additional review.”

And then there was one last item, different from all the ones that came before:

“Attempt number 499: in progress. Destination not reached. Assessing particulars. End of report.”

When Alpha finished speaking, the infinite whiteness vanished. All that was left was her figure, standing out clearly in the total darkness, and even that quickly dimmed, blurred, and melted away. Akira’s consciousness faded with her, until at last all awareness was gone.

Akira woke with the lingering sensation that he’d had a strange dream, but he couldn’t recall what it was about. Then he realized that he was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room, and the shock swept away any trace of the dream from his mind. Not long ago, Akira would have leaped up and begun scanning his surroundings in a panic. But now he was surprised rather than alarmed, his mind still muddled with sleep.

Back in the alleyways of the slums—his old home—this sort of carelessness might have gotten him killed. But he’d been living better since becoming a hunter, and as even the cheapest hotel was far safer than the streets, he no longer woke up on full alert. His greatest source of confidence, however, was the now-familiar person watching him, her usual smile reassuring him that all was well—Alpha.

Good morning, Akira, she said. Did you sleep well?

Akira sat up in bed and attempted to put two and two together.

The room looked too lived-in for a hotel. His body had been wiped clean of the blood and muck of battle, and his clothes had been exchanged for a set of lightweight white pajamas. He was in perfect health—totally rested, refreshed, and free from pain. So his sleepy brain turned to other questions.

Morning, Alpha. Where are we? he asked with evident confusion.

Alpha simply pointed to the door, just as a woman he recognized walked in.

“Akira! I didn’t know you were awake,” said the newcomer, surprised to see him up.

Her name was Sara, and she was one of a pair of female hunters whom Akira had once rescued. But he had kept out of sight at the time and avoided contact with them afterward, so they didn’t recognize him as their savior. Sara used nanomachines to enhance her physical powers; she kept her supply stored in her chest, which grew or shrank accordingly. At the moment, both had definitely been growing. Out in the wasteland, she had to squeeze her swollen breasts into an elastic suit of body armor; at home, however, she wanted to give them some room to breathe. Showing a little skin was a small price to pay for comfort, and so all she wore at the moment was a baggy shirt—large enough for her greatest bust size—and her underwear.

“How do you feel?” she asked, smiling with concern as she approached the boy. “Don’t force yourself out of bed if you’re not feeling up to it yet.”

Akira took her easygoing attitude as a sign that they were in a safe place.

“I’m, uh, fine,” he said truthfully.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Sara replied, relieved to see him in good health. “Welcome to Elena’s and my home. Don’t worry about your stuff; it’s all in the other room. We washed your clothes and put them there too, but I can bring them over if you want to change.”

“Oh, I’ll get them myself.”

“Let me. You’re a guest, so take it easy. I’ll be back with them in a sec.”

Akira had been caught up in the moment until Sara left the room. But once the door closed behind her, he began to panic.

Alpha, what’s going on?! he demanded.

First of all, you’re in a safe place, so calm down, Alpha replied serenely.

Easy for you to say, he grumbled.

They’ll get suspicious if you know too much right after waking up here, and you can’t exactly tell them that you got the details from me. Start by trying to remember as much as you can about what happened before you passed out.

I passed out? Akira repeated uncertainly. Then he remembered. Oh, that’s right. I collapsed in the truck after the fight with all those monsters.

◆

Shortly before Akira fainted, a pack of monsters had attacked him in the desert. The beasts had been pursuing the truck of a merchant named Katsuragi, and poor Akira had gotten caught up in their assault. Even when Akira and the traders had joined forces, they’d stood no chance against the vast horde. There they would have fallen, lost in the billows of dust that arose in the monsters’ wake, had not Sara and her partner Elena come to their rescue, responding to an emergency job request that Katsuragi had posted online during the chase.

The jaded Akira, used to his rotten luck, found it difficult to believe that hunters he had once saved had just happened to save him in turn. Inside the trailer of Katsuragi’s semitruck, which doubled as a mobile store, he bowed to Sara and said, “Thank you so much for saving us. I would have died without you.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m getting paid,” she replied, smiling. “The job turned out easier than we expected because you guys took out so many of them.”

As they chatted, Sara showed Akira her good-luck charm—a pendant fashioned from a rifle cartridge, which she wore nestled in her cleavage. The sight grabbed Akira’s attention, and Alpha was quick to tease him for it. Akira quickly turned their conversation to the trailer’s cargo.

Meanwhile, Elena and Katsuragi negotiated the compensation for the emergency listing.

“You’re broke? Are you kidding me?” Elena demanded.

“No, no—not broke, exactly,” Katsuragi hastily responded, flinching. “Don’t get me wrong: I have every intention of paying you. I’m just a little short on liquid assets at the moment.”

The attractive Elena glared at him even harder. “If you couldn’t pay on the spot, you should have put a special clause in your listing. Do you realize how much our ammo cost?”

“I...I know, but it was an emergency listing,” Katsuragi argued, reflecting privately that it was unwise to anger a beautiful woman—especially one who had just annihilated a swarm of monsters. “You can’t expect me to stop so I can write out those little details while I’m running for my life! I wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on you, I swear! Look at the merchandise we’ve hauled all this way!” Katsuragi made a broad sweep with his arm that indicated his cargo of high-end gear, which he had transported at risk of his life from the Front Line. Such equipment was out of reach of all but the most successful hunters. “A hunter like you ought to know what a fortune all this gear will sell for! Just be patient, and I’ll have your money in next to no time—plus a little extra to sweeten the deal, of course! How does that sound?”

Seeing that the trader wasn’t all talk, Elena calmed down a bit. She eyed the cargo appraisingly, considering the proposal. Katsuragi watched her closely, looking for the right moment to seal the deal.

Akira took the opportunity to examine the goods as well, as did Sara, who—experienced as she was—had rarely seen genuine Front Line gear.

Even Alpha seemed a little impressed by the quality of the equipment. I can hardly wait until you can use advanced weapons like these, Akira, she remarked.

Be patient, I’m working on it, he replied. Which one would you like me to work toward, hypothetically speaking?

Of the selection here? This one, I suppose. Alpha pointed to a cannon that looked far too massive for an ordinary human to carry. The cumbersome barrel, with its enormous dark mouth, looked more appropriate for a humanoid mech. On its side it bore the logo of its manufacturer.

No way in hell could I lug this thing around, Akira protested.

Wait until you get a powered suit. Naturally, a gun like this is out of the question until then.

A powered suit, huh? Sounds pricey. And I can’t even imagine how much one of these guns costs.

That’s true, putting together a set of gear to match this gun won’t be easy, Alpha admitted. I suppose I’ll have to be a little patient after all.

Akira reflected that he would need gear like this someday if he ever hoped to hold up his end of his deal with Alpha. Thinking of how much work it would take to get there, he groaned.

Just then, Sara followed his gaze, and her eye fell upon the same weapon. “Wow! Check this out, Elena!” she cried. “They’ve got a Ragnarok!”

Elena hurried over, equally surprised at finding a weapon they had only ever seen online. “You’re not kidding!” she said. “Doesn’t this thing fire annihilation warheads?”

“You bet it does,” Katsuragi interjected, swaggering up to emphasize his financial prospects. “It’s the cream of this shipment. If you knew what I went through to get my hands on—” The merchant noticed the way Elena was eyeing the gun and suddenly grew apprehensive. “Wait, what do you have in mind?”

“You could just barely handle it, couldn’t you, Sara?” Elena murmured, wearing the smile she reserved for haggling.

“Hang on! Let’s not rush things!” Katsuragi pleaded frantically. “Don’t ask the impossible! I can’t give that up!”

“But unless you have money, we’ll just have to select our payment from your stock.”

“Be reasonable! That gun’s worth way more than I owe you!”

“You’re the one being unreasonable here,” Elena snapped, spearing the merchant with a glare. “Do you expect us to sit around waiting for our money? You haven’t covered our ammo or our fee, and we don’t know when—or even if—you’ll be able to. We have lives to live too, you know.”

Katsuragi recognized that Elena’s anger was partly a negotiating tactic, but he was still at a loss to respond. As a businessman, he knew that it was his fault if he couldn’t pay. He himself had had no scruples about taking the money, goods, rights, and sometimes even lives of defaulting customers in the past. Realizing that he didn’t have a leg to stand on, and sensing that Akira and Elena were acquainted, he cast a pleading look at the boy.

Does he expect me to bail him out? Akira wondered.

I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but don’t butt in and get yourself mixed up in their business, Alpha cautioned.

I know. Akira held his peace and looked away from the trader. If he sided with anyone, it would be with the hunters who had just saved his life.

Katsuragi looked glum, as if hurt by a close companion—all a ploy to solicit sympathy, of course. Elena, however, seemed utterly unmoved, so he sighed and grimly persevered in bargaining from a position of weakness. In the end, thanks in part to his heartfelt pleas, he managed to strike a deal: Elena and Sara would stay on as the merchant’s bodyguards—for an additional fee, of course—and he would forfeit the Ragnarok to them if he failed to pay up by a set date. The hunters agreed, as much to keep an eye on the traders as for the money.

I guess negotiating’s harder than it looks, Akira commented, impressed by their cutthroat bargaining.

With all that money on the line? Absolutely, Alpha replied brightly. You risk your life hunting to get paid too, remember? They put everything on the line for the things they’re haggling over, so it’s no surprise that they brought out every trick in the book.

I get that. I was just thinking that I could never argue like that. Although I guess I’ll have to someday. He had just witnessed a clash between veterans, and the skirmish—so different from the kind of fighting he was used to—had shaken his confidence.

Have no fear, Alpha responded with self-assurance. You’ve got my support! So don’t worry about trap clauses or tricky contracts—just leave that side of things to me.

Thanks. You’re a real lifesaver. Suddenly, the boy’s vision blurred. Huh?

Is something wrong?

Not really, but my eyesight’s a little off.

Everything around him began to swim and fade out. His strength gave out, and he collapsed on the spot, unable to pick himself up. Vaguely, he saw Elena and Sara rushing toward him. He thought that they were saying something, but he couldn’t make out the words—only that they seemed frantic.

Yet somehow he could still see and hear Alpha clearly. The difference did not strike him as strange.

Well, you’re bound to be physically and mentally exhausted after going up against that many monsters, she said, smiling down at him as usual. It’s all right now, so get some rest.

Her reassurance helped calm his muddled thoughts, and he promptly blacked out.

◆

Despite remembering everything leading up to that moment, Akira still didn’t understand how he’d ended up sleeping in Elena and Sara’s home.

Is some of it coming back to you now? Try asking Sara for the details next, Alpha said, seeing his look of confusion return. I’ll fill you in on the rest later, okay?

All right, Akira agreed. But it proved impossible for him to wait calmly for Sara’s return. He knew he was safe, yet felt nervous anyway—and the paradox made him feel even more agitated. So he was hardly at ease when Sara returned with his clothes. The fact that she remained watching as he dressed himself did nothing to help.

“Would you like a hand?” Sara asked kindly, mistaking his awkward movements for signs that he was not fully recovered.

“I...I’m good,” he managed to say.

“Are you sure? You shouldn’t push yourself when you’re just getting back on your feet.”

It felt so strange to Akira to have someone sounding concerned for him that he found himself struggling even more with his clothes—until he noticed Alpha laughing at him. After that, he took care to stay calm and quickly finished changing.

“Um, Sara, would you mind bringing me up to speed?” he asked, pulling himself together. “I remember everything until I passed out in Katsuragi’s truck, but, uh, nothing after that.”

“Of course,” Sara replied, nodding sympathetically, and sat down beside him. “For starters, you’ve been out of it for three days.”

Akira started. Sara looked him in the eye and gently recounted what he had missed out on. As soon as he had collapsed, she and Elena had checked to make sure he didn’t have any major external injuries. Stains on his clothes showed that he’d suffered considerable blood loss, but the medicine he’d taken preemptively had fully closed his wounds and kept his breathing and pulse stable. The massive doses that he’d taken in quick succession had healed his injuries so rapidly that they’d left scars, but that was all—nothing worse. So the hunters had concluded, to their relief, that his condition was stable and that, even in the worst case, his life was in no danger.

“You really frightened me when you collapsed,” Sara added. “I’m glad you’re all right. And I’m sorry for pushing you to stay on your feet when you were that worn out from fighting.”

“Don’t be,” Akira replied. “I thought I was fine too, right up until everything suddenly went black. Sorry I startled you.”

With Akira out cold, Elena and Sara had urged Katsuragi and Darius to hurry back to the city, and the merchants had raised no objections. Since Akira had shown no sign of waking, the hunters had decided to bring him to their home and put him on bed rest until he recovered on his own. As far as they could tell, he was suffering from an overdose of medicine—not fatal, but probably requiring several days of sleep.

“Elena, Katsuragi, Darius, and I all talked it over and decided that you weren’t in bad enough shape to need a hospital visit,” Sara added.

Most of the first-aid pills floating around the east contained a mixture of medical nanomachines and various drugs—in essence, a set of materials and tools to patch up a hole in a wall. The nanomachines in some high-end medicines even closed wounds by acting as substitute cells. But, as convenient as they were, the capsules were not without their side effects. Rapid cycles of damaging and healing cells could result in sudden aging, while malfunctioning nanomachines could misdiagnose an injured state as normal and actually get in the way of healing. In Akira’s case, he’d taken medicine primarily intended to treat injuries in order to restore his stamina instead; he was hardly the first person to drop unconscious after trying such a stunt. Most people who suffered this effect remained in a coma until the nanomachines they’d overdosed on settled down.

“If we really wanted to play it safe, we should’ve taken you to a clinic,” Sara explained. “But you know how those places are. You could’ve ended up with an exam fee, and needing to update your insurance, and who knows what else? We didn’t want to risk it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You made the right call,” Akira said, brushing off her concern with an awkward grin. They both knew what it was like to be strapped for cash.

Confident that a few days of rest were all Akira needed, Elena and Sara had settled him into a bed at their place. Sure enough, he’d finally woken up three days later.

Akira listened to Sara’s whole story, and when she finished, he bowed politely and said, “I can’t thank you enough for saving my life, and for taking care of me afterward.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sara replied.

Touched by her kindness, Akira smiled slightly, but his face soon turned apologetic. “You, um, technically rescued me as part of that emergency listing, right?” he asked. “I hate to say this after all you’ve done for me, but, well...” He hesitated. “I’m broke. How am I supposed to pay you?”

Had it been up to Akira, he would have paid what he owed at once, but his wallet was of a different opinion. Yet he realized right away that his words could be taken to mean she shouldn’t expect him to pay her back at all. Embarrassed, he dropped his eyes.

Sara, however, immediately shook her head. “Like I told you earlier, don’t sweat it. You didn’t ask for our help, and we’re not planning to ask you for money.”

“Are you sure? But, well, I mean...” Akira faltered. He was grateful, but also reluctant to accept Elena and Sara’s help gratis. Of course, he couldn’t pay them mere gratitude either.

Seeing his worried look, Sara grew more serious. “If you want to give us something for our trouble, Akira, how about answering a question for me?” she suggested. “Honestly, if you can.”

“Sure. What do you want to know?” Akira responded, his face lighting up. He couldn’t guess what her question would be, but it sounded like a small price to pay. Even so, he grew nervous under Sara’s intent gaze.

She hesitated for just an instant, then braced herself and said, “You were the one who bailed us out in the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins, weren’t you?”

Akira went rigid.

◆

A short time earlier, while Akira was still out cold at her home, Sara paid a visit to Shizuka’s store alone. The boy’s misfortune came up in the course of their usual small talk.

“It sounds like Akira’s had a rough time of it too, getting mixed up in a fight with that many monsters,” the manager remarked, smiling sadly.

“And twice in one day,” Sara agreed, with the same expression. “I bet not many people can say that. I don’t know if the bad luck came from Akira, that Katsuragi guy and his partner, or all of the above, but there was plenty to go around. Of course, no one died, so we can laugh about it now.”

“Still, he must be a good hunter if he survived more or less unscathed. I won’t comment on the merchants’ performance, since I’m in the same line of work,” Shizuka quipped, though her tone suggested she could add a few choice comments about Katsuragi and Darius if she wished.

“You’re right that those traders couldn’t catch a break. First they got chased by monsters, then shaken down by Elena,” Sara chuckled. She knew what Shizuka was getting at: the ammunition she had used to save the merchants hadn’t been free, and it had come from Shizuka’s store. Sara admitted as much as she went on, “Not that we can afford to cut them any slack—we invested some pricey ammo into that rescue operation, and we’ve got our own livelihoods to worry about. Katsuragi whined about us eating up his profits from the trip to the Front Line, but, well, them’s the breaks. Am I wrong?”

“Not really.”

On the surface, it sounded like a typical conversation between the owner of a shop catering to hunters and one of her regular customers, but Shizuka felt that Sara was beating about the bush.

“So, where’s Elena?” Shizuka asked.

“She’s nearby, guarding Katsuragi and keeping an eye on him,” Sara replied. “I’m on a quick break.”

“I see.” Shizuka switched from lighthearted banter to serious discussion in a mere moment. “Now, why are you really here?” she asked, though she’d guessed the truth.

Surprise flicked across Sara’s face; then she gave a resigned smile and likewise grew serious. “I’ve told you about the time someone saved us in the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins, right?”

“Yes. So many times that I remember every detail.”

“Shizuka, are you sure you don’t know who that someone was?” Sara asked. She kept her gaze fixed on her friend, but the shopkeeper’s face gave nothing away.

“Why ask me?” Shizuka replied after considering how to respond.

“Because you have good instincts.”

“Oh. In that case, I have no idea.”

“Shizuka.” Sara spoke sternly and looked the other woman in the eye. Hunters naturally developed an intimidating air, and Sara unconsciously let hers start seeping out.

But Shizuka was unfazed; she did business with hunters, and their threats no longer rattled her. Moreover, she knew Sara too well to panic. “That’s what I’d tell you, regardless of what I know,” she calmly admonished her friend. “If I didn’t have a clue, I’d be honest; and if I did have a hunch about who it was, and I turned out to be wrong, I’d be making trouble for them and for you.” Remembering another friend of hers, she added, “If I did know, and whoever it was had asked me to keep quiet, I couldn’t tell you without betraying their trust.”

Then the businesswoman in her came to the fore: “Even if they hadn’t asked me to keep quiet, I wouldn’t tell you if I thought that they wouldn’t want you to know. It’s none of my business, and I don’t want a reputation for spreading gossip about my customers. In any case, the answer is ‘I don’t know.’”

Sara frowned, finding herself unable to respond.

“Besides,” Shizuka continued without changing her expression, “that’s not really why you came here, is it?”

Sara started. “How do you figure?” she asked, confused.

“You think you know exactly who helped you. Your intuition tells you that you’re right, but your reason and experience disagree. So, you want me to clear away your doubts for you, even if I’m only guessing. Am I wrong?”

Shizuka was exactly right, although Sara herself hadn’t realized it until the shopkeeper pointed it out. The childish scrawl on the note from their rescuer, Akira’s reaction to her rifle-cartridge pendant, and the powerful medicine that the boy carried all led Sara to suspect that Akira had been their savior in the ruins. The medicine she’d found while sorting through his belongings had been especially convincing—perfectly matching the package they’d received—but none of her evidence was definitive. And Sara’s experience as a hunter told her that Akira lacked the skill to pull off a rescue in the face of such overwhelming odds.

So she had come to Shizuka hoping that the latter would resolve her doubts. Both Sara and Elena respected their friend’s insight and knew that her keen intuition could sometimes be a better guide than rational evidence. The hunter now realized, to her dismay, that she had been hoping for Shizuka to confirm that Akira was their benefactor.

“Now,” Shizuka said, “how much do you want to know? Are you just curious about who helped you, or are you dying to know every last detail?”

“W-Well...” Sara didn’t know what to say. She could think of any number of questions, but how many of those did she really need answers to? Only a handful.

“Think it over and, once you’ve figured out what you truly want to know, ask whoever it is you suspect. Ask sincerely, and if they lie to you...” She shrugged. “Well, that’s life.”

Sara was silent as Shizuka’s point sunk in. What if Akira told her that he didn’t know what she was talking about? If he was telling the truth, then she had made a mistake. And if he was lying, then either he really didn’t want to talk about it, or he wanted to avoid getting too involved with her and Elena. Regardless, asking the boy once he woke up would settle the issue. Yet Sara hesitated—at some level, she really didn’t want him to say no. And she finally perceived that this desire was the only thing holding her back.

She still didn’t know why the thought of a negative response bothered her, although she suspected that Shizuka might. The shopkeeper had, after all, probably seen through her motivations long before she had. Even so, she refrained from asking—this was a question she ought to answer for herself.

“You win,” Sara acquiesced, content for the time being. “I’ll do the asking when the time comes. Thanks, Shizuka.”

“You’re welcome,” Shizuka replied, equally satisfied. Then her eyes sparkled. “Now, let me tell you my hunch, just for reference. Do you know what an Old Domain User is?”

“Not really, although I think I’ve heard the term.”

“Ask Elena for the details—I’m sure she knows all about it. In simple terms, it means someone who can connect to Old World networks in a way we don’t really understand.”

Sara couldn’t see what this information had to do with Akira, so Shizuka added, “I hear that some of them can access data that shows them the layout of a ruin and the exact position of every person and monster inside it. It’s a handy ability, but most Users have to put up with a lot as a result.”

Sara began to connect the dots. If Shizuka’s information was correct, it would explain how someone with Akira’s limited ability had been able to help them. If the boy could tell precisely where everyone was, despite the colorless fog, then his opponents might as well have been blindfolded. And now she also understood why he wanted to stay concealed: if someone suspected he was an Old Domain User, it might cost him his life.

Sara fixed Shizuka with a reproachful stare. “That’s a hell of a hunch. Couldn’t you have told me that up front?”

“While you still weren’t sure what exactly it was you wanted to know?” Shizuka replied cheerfully. “Anyway, good luck.”

Sara groaned. She found herself agreeing with the shopkeeper, but she wasn’t happy about it.

“Elena, what do you know about Old Domain Users?” Sara abruptly asked that night, when her partner entered their living room, still dripping from the bath and doing something on a head-mounted data terminal.

She was naked apart from her towel. Not as curvy as Sara, whose figure tended to draw men’s eyes, Elena’s charm took a different form. She was lithe and graceful, with well-cared-for skin, and possessed an aura of life and sensuality even at the worst of times. Now, with the last droplets of water trickling down her body, she seemed positively irresistible.

But to Sara, for whom familiarity had bred contempt, Elena just looked sloppy. Sara had warned her not to be careless before, but Elena, unruffled, had simply replied that the device on her head was waterproof. So Sara gave up.

“That’s an unusual question, coming from you,” Elena replied, startled.

“I’m just curious,” Sara explained. “Shizuka said you’d be the person to ask.”

“What do you want to know, exactly? Since you’re making a point to ask me, I assume you’re looking for more than what a quick online search would tell you.”

In fact, an online search would have given Sara exactly what she was looking for, but she didn’t want to annoy Elena. So she rephrased her question: “I’m interested in the risks and benefits, both to the User themselves and to their associates.”

“Ah, interesting. I’ll start with the benefits to the User.” Elena happily launched into her explanation.

Although being an Old Domain User came with a wide range of advantages, the greatest was the ability to access the Old Domain—an Old World information network which still preserved vast quantities of data. The value of the wisdom stored in the Old Domain was incalculable, but it was difficult to even connect to the network using existing technology. Generally speaking, access was possible only by means of special terminals unearthed in ruins. Old Domain Users, however, could use the network without any mechanical assistance. Despite the best efforts of corporate researchers, the way Users gained access remained an enigma.

Transmissions via the Old Domain also seemed totally impervious to the jamming effects of the colorless fog.

“Is that really such a big deal?” Sara interjected, perplexed.

“It’s incredible,” Elena replied, shocked at her partner’s obtuseness. “The density of the fog varies, but it covers the whole East all the time. Long-distance transmissions between cities only work because they use the Old Domain.”

While no one knew what caused the colorless fog, they did know that the Eastern phenomenon obstructed wireless transmissions—and even light and sound. In extremely high concentrations, it limited clear visibility to little more than ten meters and produced a silence that swallowed up the most raucous clamor. Even wired communications suffered.

But the Old Domain, built with the marvelous technology of a lost age, seemed impervious to the fog’s effects. At the very least, transmission over this Old World network had been confirmed to function perfectly in situations where current communications technology failed.

“Even the messages you send with your terminal?” Sara asked, looking confused. “I thought those stopped working when the colorless fog gets bad.”

“Those operate on a different system. Short-range transmissions like that use the city as a relay, so they don’t work in the fog,” Elena explained. As the team’s information specialist, she’d struggled with the fog more times than she cared to remember, and her tone grew wistful. “Can you imagine how useful fog-proof communications for data terminals would be? It would make exploring ruins that are always fogged over so much easier.”

The Old Domain networks linked numerous ruins, including still-functional facilities; here could be found the databases that housed the advanced technical knowledge of the Old World. If someone could successfully obtain that priceless data, and recreate the technology it described, they could in theory bring incredible prosperity to the whole human race.

When, as happened on occasion, a hunter exploring a ruin died suddenly and with no external injuries, it was generally assumed that they had unwittingly accessed the Old Domain. Those who, for whatever reason, became Users without realizing it could find themselves overwhelmed by uncontrolled surges of information from the ruins. Brain death was the result.

“It can kill you just like that?” Sara interrupted, starting to get agitated. “Are we at risk too?”

“There’s almost no chance of that happening just from visiting ruins,” Elena reassured her. “Especially not compared to the odds of dying from a monster attack. Who would go to the ruins if people dropped dead like that all the time?”

“Well, you have a point.”

“And I’ve also heard of Old Domain Users being able to locate and map out ruins using Old World networks. According to rumor, some corporations are so desperate to track down Users that they abduct surveyors who sell exceptionally detailed maps. So, I don’t think even Users run much risk of dying from information overload.” Elena laughed. “Unless you’re literally too unlucky to live, of course.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” Sara said, looking relieved. But then her face fell. “Still, it sounds like being an Old Domain User has its downsides.”

“More like its upsides are so good that everyone wants a piece of them. Of course, when a User falls into the clutches of a governing corporation, they probably end up with a pretty nice life—at the cost of their freedom.”

“And what if someone else snaps them up?”

“Well, your average underground operators would probably put them through hell. Of course, some major corporation might catch wind of the situation and send in a strike force to ‘rescue’ them.”

Elena was delighted, albeit surprised, that Sara was taking an interest in her field of expertise. She was happy to keep talking, and her partner got to know a lot about Old Domain Users—including how difficult it would be to earn one’s trust. Sara wondered briefly whether she really ought to ask Akira when he woke up.

◆

Sara’s unexpected question—“You were the one who bailed us out in the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins, weren’t you?”—left Akira rooted to the spot.

Once he recovered from his shock, he cradled his head in his hands—the cat was out of the bag. Not that he was really all that worried. As far as he was concerned, he was only hiding his involvement from Elena and Sara because his motives and methods would be difficult to explain.

Akira had no idea that he was an Old Domain User—he didn’t even know the term. All he knew was that only a handful of people could perceive Alpha, and he was one of them.

How could he explain what he’d done without revealing the secret of Alpha? He was just starting to worry when he noticed Sara looking at him so intently that he stopped thinking and said nothing.

Sara mistook his silence for distrust and sought to dispel it with a sincere look. “I’m sure you have a lot on your plate, so I won’t pry,” she said. “I just want to know if you’re the person who helped us. I won’t ask why or how you did it, and I definitely won’t tell anyone else what you tell me.”

Akira felt overwhelmed. His silence and rigid expression masked panic, but Sara interpreted them as a sign of rejection.

“If you really don’t want to tell me, I’ll give up for good,” she continued, earnestly and a little sadly. “But let me ask you one last time: You were the one who bailed us out in the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins, weren’t you?”

Akira owed Sara his life, and here she was practically pleading with him. Sensing her desperation, he gave in and admitted, “Yes, it was me.”

The tension in the room vanished. Sara’s expression softened, while Akira looked apologetic.

“Sorry I kept quiet about it,” he said. “It’s, um, kind of hard to explain.”

“Don’t be. And like I promised, I won’t pry. More importantly”—Sara shook her head slightly, then gripped Akira’s hand and smiled—“thank you so, so much for rescuing Elena and me. There—I finally got to tell you how grateful I am.” Guiltily, she added, “Sorry I was so pushy. Not being able to thank the person who saved my life was really bugging me.” She sighed. “Though I guess that’s my problem. I should’ve been more considerate.”

“Please, don’t sweat it. I owe you my life too,” the flustered Akira replied. “We both got lucky. Let’s leave it at that.”

“You think so? Well, if that’s how you want it, I won’t argue. And thanks—I mean it.” Sara grinned, her mind finally at ease.

“You’re welcome.” Akira returned her smile, but his face showed the faintest hint of gloom—too slight for Sara to detect. When he heard her words of gratitude, he felt something pierce his innermost heart, but he resisted the pain, desperate to keep his anguish from showing.

◆

Akira’s stomach, which had remained empty through his days of sleep, marked the end of the discussion with a growl. Sara laughed at the sound and suggested a meal, and Akira could not turn down the invitation, especially from someone he owed so much to.

Sara told Akira to wait at the table, and less than thirty minutes later, she set down a beautiful plate in front of him. The food heaped on it was obviously a cut above the frozen meals that he’d been surviving on recently. He thought that he recognized some of the noises he’d heard while waiting, but any curiosity he might have had about her cooking vanished as soon as she placed the dish in front of him. As it turned out, the meal tasted every bit as good as it looked.

They sat across from each other and chatted amiably as they ate. At one point, Sara turned the conversation to the time that Akira had rescued them, including the surprisingly high profit that she and Elena had gotten from selling their attackers’ belongings. Since money stored in bank accounts was prone to legal seizure by debt collectors or other claimants, some hunters who operated out of hotels or otherwise lacked a fixed address carried their whole fortunes on their persons at all times. The men who had attacked Elena and Sara had done so too.

The unexpected windfall had almost completely solved the pair’s financial difficulties. New equipment led to more successful hunts, which resulted in increased earnings, which allowed them to purchase even better gear. Thanks to this upward spiral, they had put their slump behind them and were now bringing in even more money than they had before.

Once Sara finished her explanation—punctuated with further expressions of gratitude—she offered to pay Akira a sum equal to what she and Elena had made on the sale, but he declined.

“Are you sure?” she asked, incredulous. “You were the one who took them out, and it’s an awful lot of money.”

“I’m sure,” he replied. “I left their stuff on them, so I’m not going to make a fuss about it now.”

“Hm, well, that kind of puts me in a bind. I don’t like being unable to repay you after you saved our lives and even got us back on track financially.” Sara groaned. Akira didn’t seem likely to accept her money, and forcing a gift on him would be missing the point. Even so, she wanted to do something for him.

“In that case, consider it an advance payment for saving me when you answered that emergency listing,” Akira suggested. “Of course, I don’t know the going rate, so I’ve got no idea if that would cover it.”

“I don’t know—I mean, like I said earlier, we weren’t planning on asking you to pay.”

“I don’t like doing nothing for you and Elena either. You’ve done so much for me too. Please, let them cancel out.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Sara admitted. “All right.”

And just like that, as they exchanged awkward smiles, their debts were settled.

Sara next related how Elena had forced her to stock up on nanomachines as soon as they’d had money to spend. This naturally led to the subject of nanomachine augmentation in general.

“So, a lot of people with nanomachine augmentation store a backup supply in part of their body. I keep mine in my chest,” Sara explained, pointing to her breasts, which brimmed with nanomachines and sex appeal. “Some people prefer an external cartridge, but I avoid those because, hey, what if you lose them? There are also ways of distributing nanomachines throughout your whole body, but they’ll only get you so far. In most cases, burning through nanomachines affects our figures, and that means big changes in clothing size. So, cut me some slack if I don’t look exactly decent.”

Sara’s outfit left little to the imagination. Her underwear had a lot of adjustable straps and ties, which allowed her to easily adjust its size; her baggy shirt displayed her cleavage. Both were sized to fit her largest possible measurements; at the moment, they hung so loosely that every movement revealed more glimpses of skin. She felt so comfortable in this attire, and was so unguarded around Akira, that she didn’t think twice about being dressed this way around him. Not that she had to worry about men feeling her up, as any creep who got too handsy around her quickly discovered her enhanced strength. It had happened before.

“No, I don’t really mind,” Akira mumbled. He did his best to look composed in front of such an enticing woman, but Sara still picked up on his darting glances.

“If you’re interested, I suppose I could give you a peek,” she said invitingly. “I do owe you.”

“Please, no more teasing,” Akira begged. Sara laughed when she saw him blush.

You never act that way with me, Alpha grumbled, displeased. I know I’ve got a better figure, so what gives? Is it because she’s not technically naked? Is that your kink?

Shut up, Akira snapped, taking care not to alter his expression.

“If your body changes that much, what do you do for combat gear when you’re out in the wasteland?” he asked out loud, hoping to change the subject. “Don’t a lot of those suits need individualized tuning? Do you adjust yours every time you go out?”

“I wear the most elastic, flexible body armor I can get, and then put on extra protection and other gear over that,” Sara replied. “Your clothes are, um, technically body armor, I guess?”

“Technically, yeah.” Akira explained how he had gotten his outfit from Shizuka. As he did so, he subtly steered the topic of conversation to the qualities of body armor, and then why they wore it.

Generally speaking, the farther east one went, the more powerful the monsters one encountered. Those roaming the Front Line were almost impossible to engage with anything short of a tank or a mech, while a handgun was enough to dispatch most monsters on the western frontier. But both sides of the East were home to a great diversity of creatures—including threats that seemed like someone’s poor excuse for a joke.

“Robots like fuel tanks with legs?” Akira repeated, only half believing Sara’s description. “Do those really exist? And do they even count as monsters?”

“You bet they do,” Sara replied. “They’ll run up to any person or vehicle that gets too close and detonate their tanks of flammable liquid fuel. I used to hunt them all the time; if you take them out without blowing them up, that fuel sells for a decent price.” Her fond reminiscences yielded vivid descriptions that surprised Akira.

“I wonder where something like that came from,” he mused.

“Someone told me that some Old World factory gone haywire makes them. Supposedly, they run up to cars to try and refuel them.”

“Why do they attack people, then?”

“A bug in their programming, I guess. They might not even mean it as an attack. I heard of one hunter who ran out of fuel and got stranded in the middle of the desert. As the story goes, some of those things ran up, refueled the car, and left without any trouble, so the hunter made it back safe and sound. Not sure how much of that I believe, though.”

They kept chatting for quite a while. The rookie hunter listened eagerly to the veteran’s somewhat rambling accounts of her experiences, and both thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

◆

“Thank you for everything,” Akira said, bowing to Sara in the entryway. He was ready to depart. “Goodbye. I’ll be going now.”

“You just got back on your feet, so be careful,” Sara cautioned.

“I will.”

Sara hesitated for a moment, then asked the departing boy, “Um, Akira, do you mind if I tell Elena about today? I’ll make sure she keeps it to herself, obviously.”

“I don’t mind, as long as you don’t spread it around too much. Shizuka already knows, anyway.”

“I knew it,” Sara muttered, grimacing.

“She kind of tricked me into telling her,” Akira admitted, matching her reaction.

“Did she, now? A word of advice: Shizuka has great instincts, including when it comes to gear. So if you’re ever debating what to buy, go with her recommendations.”

“I’ll do that. Thank you, Sara. Please thank Elena for me too.” Akira bowed slightly and left the hunters’ home.

Back in his hotel room, Akira looked a little dejected. Eating and talking with Sara had felt rather exciting; returning to the closest thing he had to a home calmed him down. As he settled in, he became aware of the emotions he’d been suppressing—a complex blend of guilt and obligation.

Are you all right? Alpha asked, looking concerned.

Akira didn’t respond at once. When he did, his muttered “Yeah” was thoroughly unconvincing.

There’s no point trying to keep secrets from me, you know, Alpha responded in a firmer tone. I’m always with you, and I will find out. Tenderly, she continued, So don’t hold it in. Tell me what’s on your mind, and you’ll feel a lot better. I doubt keeping it to yourself is in your best interests.

Akira stared at Alpha’s gentle smile in silence. At last, he murmured, “I didn’t know how bad being thanked can feel.”

He hadn’t cared about rescuing Elena and Sara—he had merely used them as an excuse to murder their attackers. Then the pair had saved his life and had shown their deep gratitude to him for saving theirs. Undeserved thanks, coming from the rescuers he had used as a pretext, tormented him with guilt and a sense of his own indebtedness.

Alpha pondered this. She knew that Akira judged the world by some internal standard, but what that standard was still baffled her. But it was at least clear that he viewed this latest development not as a cancellation of debts but as a cause for depression—a point of view she found inscrutable. Yet she had to make sense of his standards if she hoped to grasp what made him tick. That, she believed, was the key to guiding and controlling the boy more effectively. No one was more invested than Alpha was in understanding Akira—a goal she pursued for her own sake, first and foremost.

Nevertheless, she set the question aside for the present.

I see, she said gently. In that case, save them for real next time. I’d say that’s the best solution.

“You think so?” Akira replied.

I do. That would cancel out this rescue in your mind, right? You’ll feel better, and they’ll get out of a jam. I don’t see any problems. Do you?

Akira thought it over for a few moments. Then, he grinned.

“I guess not. You’ve got it all figured out,” he said, nodding emphatically, as if to convince himself. “Thanks. I feel a lot better now.”

I’m glad to hear it, Alpha replied. In that case, you’d better make sure you’re capable enough to help those two when the opportunity presents itself. I hope you understand that, Akira.

“Yeah, I do.”

That’s the spirit. Don’t worry—I’ll train you harder and harder and have you on their level in no time. Just keep putting in the work.

“O-Of course.” Akira was in earnest, but he couldn’t suppress a tinge of dread when he saw Alpha’s determined grin. She, meanwhile, was pleased to see his renewed resolve.

Then a thought struck Akira.

“Alpha,” he asked, “am I forgetting something?”

Your gratitude for my unflagging support?

“Thanks. Now, have you got any ideas?”

Now that you mention it, I wonder what happened to Sheryl, Alpha mused. You promised to drop by her base, but that was three days ago.

“Agh!”

Not long ago, a girl named Sheryl had approached Akira with an offer. She was a survivor of a slum gang that Akira had shattered in vengeance, and to protect herself she had sought to make Akira the new boss of the surviving gang members. At Alpha’s recommendation, Akira had accepted her deal, but only in part—Sheryl would lead the gang, while Akira would lend her his backing.

And Sheryl had asked—no, begged Akira to visit her base. He had promised to put in an appearance, at least, but the time of their appointment had long since come and gone. That wasn’t his fault, he told himself. He’d had his hands full. But now he decided to set out for Sheryl’s headquarters. Better late than never.

Chapter 16: A Hunter’s Patronage

Sheryl had set up the headquarters for her new gang in the building that had once been Syberg’s base in the slums. Like Sheryl, the gang’s members were children who had served under the ex-hunter, and they had already returned to their old routines. Now they could be seen scouring their turf and the nearby desert in search of scrap metal and anything else of value, or heading out in a group to collect their food rations.

Other gangs had begun to sit up and take notice that they were back in business. Surprisingly, the rival groups hadn’t yet tried harassing the feeble, newly revived gang. The children under Sheryl’s command chalked their evident security up to Akira’s support.

As slum kids, they weren’t exactly dressed to the nines. Sheryl stood out among them, having acquired nicer clothes while under Syberg’s patronage. Life in the alleys had left her attire somewhat worse for wear, but after she gave it a thorough cleaning at the base, it looked good enough to serve as a sign that she was in charge.