Rebuild World: Volume 1 Part 2, page 25
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When Akira reached Sheryl’s base, she cheerfully ushered him into her room and shut the door. Once they were alone and he had set down his burdens, she hugged him head-on. Akira sighed—he had vaguely expected this.
“Come on, get off me,” he grumbled.
“What’s the problem?” Sheryl responded. “This is two visits’ worth, since you left so quickly last night.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but save it for later. I’m here on business.”
“All right. After your business is done, then?” Sheryl backed away from Akira, stared him in the eyes, and smiled as if to say they’d now made a promise.
Akira finally realized that their last encounter in his hotel room had transformed her into a new kind of nuisance, and that the change was likely permanent. Once they were seated on either side of a table, he started over by casually pulling five hundred thousand aurum from his backpack and setting it between them.
“Pay this to Shijima,” he said. “It’s the rest of what we owe him for that peace deal.”
Sheryl looked shaken. To slum kids like her and her gang, the significance and power of that much money was shocking. Was Akira pushing himself too hard to avoid a fight with Shijima?
“Um, are you all right?” she asked, concerned. “He hasn’t hassled us for the money since then, so I think we can afford to take a little more time.”
“Don’t worry. I made decent money on a job yesterday. Compared to that payout, this is pocket change,” Akira replied with alacrity, experiencing a strange sensation as he did so.
From Alpha’s perspective, his entire twelve-million-aurum reward was pocket change, and this half million was an even more trivial sum. Even by Akira’s standards, the bills on the table were no longer a lot of money. He realized that the Akira who had lost his cool over two hundred thousand aurum was no more. Was that growth—or numbness? A change for better or for worse? He wasn’t sure.
“I understand,” Sheryl said, nodding and smiling despite her surprise. “I’ll handle the payment to Shijima.”
“Oh, and about my motorbike,” Akira added. “My hotel hasn’t got parking, and I can’t leave it on the street, so I’d basically like to use your place as a garage for a while. Do you mind?”
“Park it here for as long as you want. We’ll take care of it for days or years if need be. And if people see you popping in and out of this base, they’ll think twice about trying anything on us.”
“Great. Sorry for the hassle.”
Behind her friendly, casual demeanor, Sheryl’s mind was rapidly speculating. Akira had been living out of a cheap hotel room the last time she’d visited him, but now he spoke like half a million aurum meant nothing to him. And despite the radical shift in his economic circumstances, he had left his motorcycle with her rather than move to a hotel with a garage. She attached far too much significance to all these details.
“That’s all I came for,” Akira said. “Do you need me for anything else?”
At that question, Sheryl set all her guesses aside. “Nothing. Does that mean your business is done?” She smiled bewitchingly, moved her seat next to Akira’s before he could make up his mind how to react, and snuggled against him in a hug. Then a cloud passed over her blissful expression.
“Your clothes are awfully hard,” she grumbled.
“It’s a powered suit,” Akira said. “Of course it’s harder than normal clothes.”
“It’s too hard. Won’t you take it off?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on,” Sheryl wheedled. “It won’t cost you anything.”
“Yeah, it will,” Akira countered. “Taking off my suit will cost me a lot of strength.”
“But I’ll hug you for longer if you leave it on.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s less satisfying this way.”
Akira frowned, looking both annoyed and at a loss. Sheryl stared at him, delighted. Their odd conversation hovered somewhere between joking and genuine. A brief staring contest followed Sheryl’s last words, and Akira was the first to back down.
He sighed as he peeled his suit off his upper body, and she embraced him with more exuberance than ever. Her expression—a lopsided blend of relief, joy, bliss, and pleasure—did a lot to spoil her exceptional beauty. Strange, muffled moans occasionally escaped her lips. Sheryl felt as if something within her was being filled.
Akira bore her hug in silence—she wasn’t doing him any harm, and he figured she would let him go eventually if he indulged her. He scowled, however, when he noticed Alpha watching him with a mocking, knowing grin.
What? he demanded.
Nothing, she replied. She seems awfully attached to you, although I haven’t the foggiest idea why. Are you into that sort of thing after all?
Why is that your takeaway? Akira sighed.
“Sheryl,” he said, “would you give it a rest already? I’m still worn out from yesterday, and I’m looking forward to a nice, relaxing soak in the tub.”
“If it’s a bath you want, we have one here,” she responded. “Care to try it?”
“Huh? This place has a bathtub?”
“Yes, and quite a large one. I think you’d enjoy a soak in it.”
“I’m surprised it works, considering this building looks abandoned. I figured they would’ve shut off your hot water, even if you’ve got the tub and pipes. How do you pay for it?”
“I can’t vouch for how true this is, but someone told me that water is the only utility the city keeps running in the slums,” Sheryl explained. “Something about how they don’t want us to riot for it or let things get so dirty that we spread diseases to the lower district. Didn’t you know?”
“I know that—I used to wipe myself clean—but I didn’t realize they give us hot water too,” Akira said. Then something clicked for him. “Oh, I guess that’s why you can make coffee.”
Water bills for most residences in the slums went unpaid, since no records showed who owned or lived in them, but the city still supplied the district with water in its effort to keep the area under control. Tracking the slum dwellers’ water usage also helped estimate their numbers and level of activity. And the authorities could always throttle or stop the water supply to limit the spread of the slums or to quietly cull its population. So precious virtue and cold, calculating profit kept the free water flowing at the city’s convenience.
“A lot of people like this base because not many buildings can draw enough hot water to fill a bath,” Sheryl said. “Syberg’s gang used brute force to take it over, and we just inherited it from them. Without your support, we’d get chased out in no time. So stop by to use the tub anytime you like. I can get it ready for you right now. What do you say?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll go back and use the one in my hotel room,” Akira replied.
“Even if I got in with you to wash your back and help scrub you all over?” Sheryl smiled seductively, but Akira’s answer didn’t change.
“I paid for a room with a bath, so I’m gonna use it,” he said. “Anyway, I wanna rest easy.”
“I see. That’s too bad.” Sheryl would’ve bathed with Akira if he had let her, but she quietly dropped the subject as soon as she picked up on the hint of alarm that had entered his attitude. His refusal was a simple question of trust—he couldn’t wear his suit or carry his rifles into the bathroom. He had only agreed to remove his suit around her, even partially, because she was too weak to pose any real threat to him.
Akira didn’t trust her. Sheryl wasn’t surprised, but she felt a twinge of sadness and clung to him even harder.
Someone knocked on the door.
“What is it?” Sheryl asked, letting a hint of her annoyance show.
Erio—the knocker—winced slightly at her tone but answered, “Boss, Shijima and his guys are here. They say they wanna talk.”
“Oh. I’ll be right there.”
If Sheryl wanted to win Akira’s trust, she would need to do her job as the leader of her gang, she decided. So, reluctantly, she drew away from him.
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The two groups faced each other in a space that was too shabby to call a reception room but at least contained a table and chairs. Akira, Sheryl, and Shijima were seated. Shijima’s armed guards were positioned behind their boss, relaxed but alert. Erio and Aricia stood behind Sheryl, looking tense.
A child nervously set coffee on the table, then hurried out of the room. Erio and Aricia watched enviously.
“I’m sorry that we can’t offer you more refreshments,” Sheryl said, smiling across the table at Shijima. “We’re operating on a tight budget.”
“Don’t mention it,” Shijima responded.
“Now, what brings you here?”
“Oh, just a courtesy call. We never got a chance to really talk.”
“I follow you. Akira is alive and well.”
“I’m glad to see it.”
Perceiving that they understood each other, the two gang captains smiled, Sheryl serenely and Shijima with dignity.
Akira was still in the dark. Alpha, what are they talking about? he asked, looking puzzled.
About Shijima checking up on you, I assume. Seeing that he still didn’t get it, Alpha elaborated further: Many hunters had died in the recent assault, and Shijima wouldn’t have been surprised if Akira had been one of them. The gang leader had called on Sheryl to gauge her reactions face-to-face. If Akira were dead, she would probably be reeling from the loss of her patron.
Sheryl had intuited Shijima’s intention and confirmed that Akira was safe. And Shijima, sensing that she knew the reason for his visit, had calmly accepted her report.
Akira finally grasped the situation. Nothing gets by them, huh? What a pain.
Every leader has to be able to read between the lines, Alpha responded.
Sheryl placed the five hundred thousand aurum Akira had just given her on the table. “Here’s the rest of what we owe you.”
“Indeed it is,” Shijima said. “This marks a peaceful end to that mess. I’d like to keep things friendly between us going forward.”
“So would I.”
Shijima inspected Akira while he conversed. Most struggling hunters couldn’t afford to outfit themselves with powered suits, but Akira wore one. He even carried a rifle too bulky to use without it. Shijima mentally estimated the cost of Akira’s equipment and grew even warier of the hunter who had earned it.
I figured he was no ordinary kid, but I didn’t count on him gearing up so fast, he reflected. Should I pat myself on the back for not crossing him last time, or blame myself for not killing him before he filled out his arsenal? Well, I guess there’s no sense crying over spilled milk.
The gang leader turned his attention to Sheryl. Her serene smile radiated such confidence that he hardly recognized her. The scared, nervous girl who had shivered during her visit to his base was nowhere to be seen. She had even kept her cool when she handed over the five hundred thousand aurum, although a mere glimpse of that much money would rattle almost any slum dweller. The same went for her attitude toward his armed subordinates. Shijima expected the uneasy looks on Erio and Aricia’s faces, but Sheryl’s smile remained unperturbed.
Why is she so self-assured? Because she found out just how tough her patron is? I’ll admit that I’ve got to think twice about messing with her now, but that doesn’t explain how calm she was with the money. The pair behind her are scared of us and of that much cash, so where does her confidence come from? No one gets that kind of grit overnight. What happened to her?
Shijima considered his next move. Privately, he added his fresh insights into Akira and Sheryl to what he already knew of their gang’s size, strength, and territory. When he finished his mental calculations, he gave Sheryl a smile that he never revealed to inferiors—a sign that he would need to negotiate with her in earnest.
“Then I’d like to discuss the future,” he said. “Can you spare the time for a long talk? Both of our organizations will benefit. But I’m the one who barged in here without an appointment. I’ll reschedule if I caught you at a bad moment.”
Sheryl noticed the change in Shijima’s attitude. He no longer took her lightly. If he decided to crush her in the future, she realized, he wouldn’t hold back. Yet her smile never wavered.
“Now is fine,” she said. “Let’s get down to business.”
“All right, then,” Shijima began. “About the turf issue that set off that squabble—”
“Er, excuse me,” Akira interjected. “Do I have to stick around for this? It sounds like you’ll be talking for a while, and I wanna head home.”
The others stared at him in surprise, but Sheryl didn’t bat an eye.
“I’m glad you asked,” she said pleasantly. “I’d hate to tie you down for who knows how long while we chat. Don’t mind me; you’re free to go.”
“Our gangs may differ in size, but this is a talk between bosses,” Shijima added earnestly. “I’d actually prefer that any outsiders leave us to it.”
Erio and Aricia shot imploring gazes at Akira, begging him not to leave. But they were facing his back, and their pleas went unanswered.
“Great. Then I’ll see you later,” Akira said. “Sheryl, let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you for your trouble. Drop by anytime.” Sheryl watched him go with a smile, but her lieutenants paled as soon as their protector left the room. She noticed their tension, although she never turned to look at them. “Relax. We won’t have any problems with them, even without Akira here. These aren’t fools like the last batch.”
“We don’t want unnecessary trouble,” Shijima said, partly to remind his men. “You paid us a million aurum for peace. We won’t start anything even if this negotiation falls through.”
At that, Erio and Aricia relaxed—but only slightly. They were still desperate for the meeting to end. Yet their wishes went unheard, and the two leaders spoke together for quite some time.
After wrapping up his talk with Sheryl, Shijima returned to his own headquarters and went to his private room to collect his thoughts. Ultimately, Sheryl had relinquished half of her territory—the areas that her gang couldn’t keep under control. In exchange, she had gotten one million aurum and a promise to establish a level of cooperation between their groups.
Not a bad deal. I even wrangled some turf out of it. But still... Shijima’s face clouded with a worry he couldn’t put his finger on. Sheryl’s transformation bothers me even more than Akira does. Where does all her cool confidence come from? Is she just full of herself because she’s got Akira eating out of her hand? No, there’s gotta be more to it.
Shijima couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d woken something better left asleep.
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Akira was in his hotel room, soaking up to his neck in bathwater. His face relaxed as he savored the pleasure of bathing and felt his fatigue melting away. It was only a matter of time before the tub consumed his mind and even simple conversation became impossible. Alpha spoke up before he reached that point.
Akira, I know you’re in the middle of recuperating, but would you mind talking about what comes next?
He turned his vacant gaze toward her. As before, she seemed to be in the bath with him, her beautiful skin gently flushed as if from the heat of the water. Her perfectly proportioned figure wavered slightly, distorted through the lens of the slowly rippling water, as its details appeared and disappeared behind motes of reflected light. Droplets of bathwater and sweat funneled between her ample breasts.
She had squandered innumerable sophisticated calculations to create this alluring vision of feminine beauty.
But Akira’s reaction was decidedly muted. Bathing diluted his interest in her charms even more than everyday exposure already had. All he wanted right now was to avoid any annoying remarks she might make.
“You mean our hunting plans from tomorrow onward?” he asked.
That’s correct, Alpha replied. Especially your frame of mind for them.
“Not sure I follow. I’m gonna keep working cautiously and carefully, like I have been. Is there more to it?”
There is, Alpha said gravely. You’ll need to be even more cautious from now on. Assume that every wound is fatal. You’ve gone through almost all the medicine we picked up in the ruins. You don’t have enough left to keep bulldozing your way through trouble, so watch out. I mean it.
Her tone alarmed Akira, but he still asked, “Can’t we buy more medicine from Shizuka?”
Hers won’t hold a candle to what you’ve been using. Remember when you broke your leg? The capsules you’re used to got you back into fighting shape in five minutes. The cheap pills you bought yesterday would take two weeks for a complete recovery.
Akira grimaced. “That is a big difference. Couldn’t we just buy something closer to the old stuff?”
Not easily. Even if you found it for sale somewhere, it would set you back at least a million aurum per box.
“I’ve been gulping down handfuls of something worth that much?!” Akira shouted, spluttering in surprise.
It kept you alive, but yes, it’s pricey.
Only then did Akira realize how dire his situation was. Any careless injuries he suffered from now on would affect more than just one battle—they could fatally alter the rest of his life. As excellent as it was, his powered suit could only do so much to compensate for broken bones—relying on it might even worsen his wounds until he bled to death.
“Wait, can’t we go back to the ruins for more pills?” he asked. “I bet there are still some lying around if we look.” His face brightened at the thought of a solution, but quickly fell again when Alpha shook her head.
That massive attack significantly altered the monster population of the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins. Things that would normally lurk deeper inside might be wandering the outskirts. You probably wouldn’t survive a trip there now, even with my support.
“No dice, huh? Okay, I’ll be as careful as I can.”
Please try. I’ll do my best to help.
Akira tried to summon his resolve but failed, overcome by the pleasures of the bathtub. A languid moan escaped his mouth. His gaze met Alpha’s.
