“All right, if you say so. Just don’t push yourself, okay? I know it’s a bit hard given the situation, but Elena and I are here, so don’t feel like you have to take on everything yourself—unless we’re not reliable enough for you, that is.”

  From her smile it was clear she was joking, but Akira nonetheless realized he was pushing himself too hard. Resolving to ease up a bit more, he grinned back at her.

  “Nah, I don’t think that at all! I trust you to have my back.”

  “Then you can count on me! Well, I say that, but Elena’s got the scouting department covered. Right?”

  Elena grinned too. “Sure, sure, I got it.”

  “That’s a pretty weak response,” Sara teased.

  “That’s because you don’t even need to ask,” Elena shot back. “Just leave it to me!”

  From their banter, even Akira could tell they were sufficiently at ease to joke around. Their calmness was born not from negligence, but from a sense of confidence and composure that they’d gained from helping and supporting one another for so long, a feeling that could never be attained by someone who always felt they had to handle everything on their own. The old Akira certainly couldn’t have achieved such a state—it was only after meeting Alpha that he’d finally been able to put his trust in someone else.

  Now Alpha was gone. But he found himself thinking that maybe he could rely on someone else for a change, and his anxiety melted away once again—not out of exhaustion this time, but from a sense of reassurance.

  Carol returned, announcing that she’d chosen a container. She led them all to a large metallic box that could easily hold a miniature tank with room to spare. It was sealed shut, and there were no handles or buttons anywhere to open it.

  But Carol stood in front of the box and seemingly operated some sort of terminal invisible to the rest of them, and the door opened just like that.

  “Hey, how’d you do that?” Togami couldn’t help but ask.

  “That’s classified information,” Carol replied with a grin.

  “Which means you’ll sell it, right? For how much?” he asked.

  “Twenty million aurum.”

  “T-Twenty million?!” Togami practically choked at the exorbitant figure.

  Carol gave him an alluring smile. “If you ever feel like paying, let me know. I’ll even give you a bonus service that’ll make the price worth it,” she said, indicating her own body and grinning coquettishly.

  Togami remained frozen in place, even as everyone else headed into the container. But before Shikarabe got on board, he tapped Togami on the shoulder.

  “Just warning you now: I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  “I mean, I don’t have that kind of money,” Togami mumbled after some hesitation.

  “Even if you did, don’t.” Shikarabe’s grim expression seemed to suggest there was more to his words, and Togami realized that his superior was warning him in earnest.

  Once everyone had entered, Carol shut the door. Immediately the walls of the container became as transparent as glass, offering a clear view of the outside. Elena and the others were visibly alarmed, but Carol reassured them. “Don’t worry, it works like optical camouflage. No one can see us from outside.”

  Elena checked their surroundings with her scanner just to be sure, and found it functioned as it normally did. “Looks like I can use my scanner just fine. Carol, this container seems awfully convenient for our own purposes. Are all of them like this inside?”

  “Of course not. I handpicked the container that would be most suited to our needs.”

  “And I’m guessing if I wanted to know how you chose it, that would also cost twenty million aurum?”

  “You got it. The info’s just that valuable. So I’m looking forward to negotiating with you later.”

  “Don’t be too hard on me now,” Elena said teasingly.

  Carol just grinned back.

  Shiori cut into the bargainers’ banter. “I hate to interrupt, but can I ask when this container is scheduled to depart?”

  “Should be ten minutes from now at the most,” Carol replied. “I want to get a move on just as much as everyone else, but this is something the ruin controls. I can’t change it, unfortunately.”

  “I understand,” Shiori replied.

  With that, Akira and the rest settled in to wait.

  Ten minutes wasn’t all that long, but even so Akira and the others couldn’t afford to waste it. Seizing the opportunity to take a breather, each of them reloaded and restocked their gear and weaponry. As Akira sat on the floor, switching out magazines of ammo and energy packs, he gave a long sigh.

  Alpha’s still not back. What’s taking her so long? He’d expected her back long before, but she still hadn’t returned. Sure, she had something important to take care of, but he couldn’t help wishing that she’d hurry it up.

  At his side, Carol heard him sigh and smiled. “No need to be so worried. We got back home safe last time, didn’t we?”

  While she hadn’t guessed the real reason for his mood, he appreciated her concern. “Yeah? I think we had a pretty rough time of it before that, though,” he said with a wan smile.

  In a deliberate, exaggerated way, Carol looked away from him as if to say, I’m not sure what you mean.

  He could tell she was joking around, trying to cheer him up. She turned to face him again, and they smiled at each other.

  “Come to think of it,” he remembered, “you said something to Shikarabe about ending up like the ghost stories. What’s that got to do with these containers?”

  “You mean you don’t know? I thought I told you before. It’s one of the more famous ghost stories surrounding Mihazono.” She explained that every now and then, hunters exploring the ruin would spot an open door that seemingly led to nowhere. Through the gap a treasure trove of relics could be seen, but if a hunter entered, the door would promptly shut behind them, and they’d never be able to return. The “Door to Oblivion” couldn’t be laughed off as just a tall tale either, since a good number of hunters had actually disappeared that way.

  Akira thought for a moment. “Oh, I get it. Some of those boxes with optical camouflage were left open, so the relics were visible inside. Then, while hunters were collecting the relics, the containers started moving, carrying the people off with them.”

  “Most likely. But it’s a ghost story, so who knows? Maybe there’s some kind of system in place that detects anyone suspicious trying to enter and carries them off to some Old World internment camp somewhere,” she said casually.

  Akira stiffened. “D-Do you think we’ll really be okay riding in this thing?”

  “Like I said, don’t worry. I chose a safe one. Plus, we rode one before and were just fine.” Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Also, I picked the sturdiest one I could find. So even if we’re attacked in the air again, it won’t be a repeat of last time.”

  “O-Okay,” Akira replied, but he still looked anxious. He would have preferred not to race down the side of a building again—especially without Alpha’s support—if he could help it.

  Twenty minutes had now passed since Akira and the others entered the container—twice the amount of time Carol had initially estimated—yet the large bin was still on the ground. Carol tilted her head in concern. “Hmm... That’s strange. We definitely should’ve taken off by now.”

  The others exchanged wary looks. Akira, who was staring out the window, spoke up, sounding puzzled.

  “Hey Carol, weren’t there a bunch of containers being carried in and out through the corridors when we were here last? Nothing’s moving now. What’s up with that?”

  Shocked, Carol ran to the window to check for herself. “N-No! It can’t be—the container transport’s offline?!”

  As if on cue, Monica’s voice came over the wireless. “Aw, were you thinking you could escape? Tough luck—I shut the terminal down! Now you’ve got no chance!” Her smug voice resounded throughout the container they were in. “That’s right—panic! Tremble in fear! You thought you could get one up on me?! Never! You already know by now, right? Whatever you try, whatever you attack me with—none of it will work against me!”

  The rookies—Akira, Togami, and Reina—started to panic. But the veterans had already recovered from their shock and were already planning their next move.

  “Elena, can you get a read on Monica from here?” Shikarabe asked.

  “One moment. Yes, I see her.”

  Monica was standing at the entrance to one of the corridors high up on one of the terminal’s tall walls. Despite the countless containers lined up on the floor, Monica had chosen to stand boldly out in the open rather than take cover—almost as though she was challenging them to try and shoot her. That alone showed how confident she was in her defenses.

  Shikarabe received Monica’s location on his own scanner via Elena’s. “Yeah, I see her too. Say, you think the range of her wireless covers the whole terminal?”

  “No, considering the width of the space and all the containers in the way, it’s probably more like a fifth of the terminal at most.”

  Shikarabe sighed deeply. “I see. All right, guys!” His words changed the mood among the group, turning their attention to the business at hand. “Let’s make sure everyone’s on the same page: we’ll hear everyone’s thoughts, then discuss our next move. First off—how much of what Monica just said do you think was a bluff, and how much was bait meant to lure us in?”

  “Hmm,” began Elena. “Well, if I had to say...” She noticed Akira, Togami, and Reina all had questions written on their faces.

  The two veterans exchanged glances, and Elena smiled wryly. Shikarabe looked reluctant, but nodded.

  The container transport was offline, and Monica had somehow been involved. Those were facts. But Shikarabe felt that a mere security guard like Monica wouldn’t have been given the authority to shut the whole system down. She’d likely asked her employer to freeze the system, and it had done so—but only temporarily. So her claim that they couldn’t escape was a lie. If they waited here long enough, the system would most likely kick back on, and then they could make it to safety.

  He also doubted whether Monica actually knew they were here in the terminal. Considering how accurately she’d pursued them on the way here, she must’ve had some way of knowing their location. But if she knew where they were even now, why hadn’t she attacked? The fact that she hadn’t meant either she didn’t actually know, or that she perhaps knew but couldn’t attack the container they were in.

  Shikarabe’s theory was that whatever Monica had been using to track them up until now probably only worked within the factory itself. When they were nowhere to be found inside, she had likely deduced only by process of elimination that they’d headed to the terminal. But she’d realized that if the team used a hidden underground passage or by some other means she wasn’t aware of within the terminal, they could easily escape. The real reason Monica had shown herself was not because she was confident in her defenses, but to goad them into attacking and revealing their location, or perhaps just to lure them outside of the container. Either way, if she could bait them into responding, she’d know for sure they were here in the terminal. If she got no reaction, there was a strong possibility she might leave to go search somewhere else—or that the system might return to its normal operation in the meantime.

  “So I think our best bet is to wait here,” Shikarabe finished. “That’s just my opinion though—what’s everyone else think?”

  Elena agreed. “No arguments here. Also, for the past few minutes Monica’s been moving around the terminal repeating the same thing she said before. Since we didn’t respond, she’s probably thinking she’s outside our range, and she’s trying to make sure we hear her.”

  “If that’s not an act, then it basically confirms that she has no idea where we actually are,” Shikarabe concluded.

  “Right,” Elena said with a nod.

  Understanding finally dawned on Togami. After making it all the way here and finally seeing a chance to escape, he’d been worried that everything they’d done had been pointless and they’d run into a dead end. But his relief at hearing things weren’t quite so bad was evident.

  Shikarabe took one look at him and sighed. “Togami, you should’ve realized this much already. Think about it—if you really had been successful during the bounty hunts and were put in charge of a battalion like you wanted, you would’ve had to make these kinds of calls on your own.”

  Having the future he’d once dreamed about thrown in his face, Togami had no rebuttal.

  Shikarabe wasn’t done with him, though. “Or would you have just left that all to the higher-ups instead? In that case, your ‘higher-ups’ would’ve been those desk jockeys. Do you really think it’s a good idea to entrust the lives of you and your teammates to a bunch of pencil-pushers who’ve barely even set foot in the wasteland?” Shikarabe’s colleague Kurosawa had left Druncam for that exact reason: he’d had the feeling that if things went on as they were, the desk jockeys would eventually take over the entire organization—and he’d wanted no part of that. Shikarabe, for his part, had stayed behind to prevent that future from coming to pass.

  As Togami hung his head in shame, three others were averting their eyes—Akira, Reina, and Sara, who usually left those sorts of judgments to others. Akira usually left the decision-making to Alpha, Reina to Shiori, and Sara to Elena—even decisions that concerned their own lives. Yet they didn’t look discouraged like Togami, because each of them placed that much trust in their companion. Akira and Sara only grinned wryly, and Reina lowered her head slightly only because she wished she was strong enough to not have to rely on Shiori.

  Elena saw them and gave a small smile. “Hey Shikarabe, how about leaving the Druncam talk for later? I don’t think this is the best time.”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. Back to business then—what’s the plan?”

  “Good question. Let’s see...” Elena looked serious as she considered for a moment. “We’ll wait it out.”

  The team leader had made her decision, and the endurance contest between Akira’s team and Monica began.

  ◆

  Monica continued to move through the terminal. She was starting to get anxious.

  Just as Shikarabe had guessed, Monica didn’t know where Akira and the others actually were. She’d merely inferred that they were in the terminal based on the route Akira and the others had followed. She’d made her announcement hoping to flush them out by spurring them to search for another escape route.

  But nothing had happened, and now the pressure was on her. The system had only frozen temporarily—sooner or later, it would come back to life. But she couldn’t just start shooting containers at random in the hope that Akira and the others might be inside—the system hiring her wouldn’t allow that. What’s more, they might have already used a route she didn’t know about to escape, which would certainly explain why they hadn’t reacted. If they were no longer in the terminal, then searching for them here was a waste of effort in the first place.

  Either way, the thought of the team escaping was already causing her to panic. But she noticed something which made her freeze in terror—it was starting to rain.

  “R-Rain?! Oh, shit!”

  Her earlier confidence vanished without a trace. Now desperate, she made a rash decision and sent a new request to her employer.

  It was granted.

  ◆

  Rain began to fall on the container Akira and the others were in, and gradually became a downpour. Akira, who’d been watching the rain out the window, noticed Elena’s conflicted expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Hm? I mean, now that it’s raining, I was just thinking about the best course of action to take.”

  “What do you mean? You said we’re gonna wait, right?”

  “Well, yes, that’s still an option. But...” From the look on Akira’s face, Elena saw he was missing some key information and set about filling him in. Rainfall in the East often contained traces of colorless fog—though the amount varied, it was said that the dense fog covering the skies got mixed into the rain as it fell. So most hunters didn’t work on rainy days: not only did the rain impair their vision, the colorless fog reduced the accuracy of their scanners and the power and range of their guns. Very few hunters would deliberately choose to go out into the wasteland—especially when it was highly likely they’d encounter a dangerous monster at close range—in conditions like that.

  But on the other hand, the same went for the monsters—the range at which they could detect enemies or attack would also be drastically reduced. For this reason, some hunters took rainy days as an opportunity to explore ruins full of dangerous and powerful foes that they otherwise never would’ve stood a chance against. And in this particular case, the rain was actually a boon to Akira and the rest of the team. If the effect of the colorless fog had spread into the factory as well, they’d probably be able to slip past Monica undetected. Her weapons—capable of taking out two powered armor units—would also suffer reduced power and range. And it would be easier to see her force-field shield in the rain. In a number of ways, then, the rain would help them escape.

  But there were a few disadvantages as well. Akira and the others were trying to exit the ruin, but all they really needed to do was get far enough away to contact the city base. And with their relay point—the powered armors—destroyed, there was also a chance that another team had already been dispatched to investigate. In that case, they only needed to get in touch with that team to relay the situation to base and request aid. Considering a murderous traitor hired by the ruin was on the loose, they could reasonably expect a quick response—apart from the rain, that is.

  Communications would now be spottier than ever—bad enough that they might not be able to connect to the base even if they walked right up next to it. That would give Monica more time to kill them and cover up the whole incident.

  Elena reconsidered. “My guess is that Monica can only detect our location within areas that are still up and running. In the powered-down sectors, it’s harder for her.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39