NPC No. 81: “Welcome! We buy, sell, and repair. What brings ya here today?”

I’ve already looked at a bunch of catalogs, but I’d better talk to Pops first.

Going straight to a manufacturer after looking at a catalog was an option, but since their salespeople would no doubt try to push the most popular models on me, I really didn’t like doing that. That was why I ended up walking to Pops’s place, the Dolg Repair Shop.

“Good mornin’!” I called out as I entered the workshop. Pops and his apprentices were rushing about, trying to get things done.

Pausing in his work, Pops wiped the sweat off his brow and came to greet me. “Hey. You don’t often come without your ship. Did it get blown up or something?”

Since I only ever came here to have my ship worked on, I usually came by spaceship, hence Pops’s joke.

However, this time, it was no mere jest.

“That’s right,” I said. “My ship just happened to get bombarded—and blown to smithereens—while it was parked...”

“What?! Well, at least you got away with your life...”

“I’m really sorry... You helped me out so much with that ship.”

Pops was awfully shocked but pleased to see I was unharmed. “Unbelievable. Well, I’m just glad you didn’t walk away with a new cyborg body for us to maintain, though I guess that would have given you a chance to pick a more handsome face!”

There’s no need for him to make fun of my looks, though.

“In that case... How about this?” said Pops, opening a pamphlet from the Eyofs Corporation. He showed me a page highlighting their Noltegrame model. “A bunch of different manufacturers all came and left these catalogs, hoping I’d show ’em to customers looking for new ships.”

“Can you order this model?” I asked.

“No problem. Of course, you’ll be wanting a high-end radar too, won’t you?”

“Absolutely!”

“Then I’ll be sure to look for a better unit for ya. I’ll call you once I’ve got it in, and you can pay me then,” he told me. “And I assume you’ll be wanting to make some adjustments once you’ve purchased it all, won’t you?”

“Yes, thank you so much! I’ll have to rent some space and some tools from you again. Oh, and I’ll do some shopping around for a radar myself.”

Since I’d left acquiring the new ship completely up to Pops, I felt like I should at least look for a new radar on my own. It wasn’t like I was looking to pinch pennies, though. If Pops were to find a unit with better performance, I was totally prepared to go with his recommendation.

My search for a new ship had ended much sooner than I’d expected, so I had time to spare. I decided to go and perform some purification rites.

It may seem pretty unscientific coming from someone living in the age of soaring spaceships, but shrines, temples, and churches were still around. The fact that all these religions and rituals still existed made me think that there had to be some kind of divine intervention at play.

Anyway, I made my way to a shrine on Planet Ittsu that was modeled after the home of a character in Breath Comet, a spot that was famous among anime fans. Thankfully, the clergy there were more than happy to grant my request for an emergency purification. After making the proper offering, they exorcised my demons.

Under normal circumstances, since this was a place renowned by anime fans—and as I was being attended by living, breathing shrine maidens—I would have been excited. But since I was serious about ridding myself of bad luck, I managed to keep a cool head throughout the rites.

Incidentally, they sold both regular good-luck charms and anime tie-in versions. Naturally, I bought the full anime-themed set. I also bought a regular charm to ward off evil. I hoped that all of this would be enough to save me from calamity.

If Arthur had been here instead of me, I bet he would have had a dramatic meet-cute with one of the shrine maidens...but, of course, there was no way that would happen to me.

Once I’d taken care of ordering a spaceship at Pops’s shop and purifying myself at the shrine, it was more than time for lunch.

I went into a fast-food restaurant and grabbed something to eat before heading straight to Animember. As I did that, I realized I was also near Seizaban.

Now that so many of the manga, light novels, and anime data cards I’d previously bought had been reduced to ashes, I was going to have to buy them all over again. Sooner or later, at least. I knew I could easily get my hands on more recent series, but the older stuff was going to be pretty tough to find again.

With a glimmer of hope left in my heart, I walked into Seizaban and looked for some of the titles that had been burned to ash. They had It’s Just Wrong That My Big Sister Is So Cute and I Have No Friends in stock, but I didn’t see any copies of Cowgirl Swing or Heaven-Piercing Garon Baron. I wasn’t sure whether or not they’d still be available, but I decided I’d order those at Animember. As long as they weren’t out of print, I should still be able to get them.

At Animember, I saw there was a new volume of Assassin Family out and grabbed that. And while I was able to order a new copy of Heaven-Piercing Garon Baron through them, Cowgirl Swing was a different story.

Since I was already there, I wandered around the store, looking at the new releases. It was then that I ran into Gonzales. Instead of his usual lab coat, he was wearing a trendy casual jacket.

“Hey. Haven’t seen you here in a while,” I noted.

“But we used to bump into each other here all the time as students,” he replied.

It was a little disheartening to realize that we still frequented the exact same places that we had as students.

“What are you here to buy?” he asked.

“Well, I’m partly here to kill time in between jobs, but I also need to restock the series that burned up with my ship.”

For a moment, Gonzales looked shocked by what I had said. But then he broke the silence, saying, “Well, you couldn’t come here to buy anime if you hadn’t made it out alive.”

He’d gone right back to his usual demeanor.

“How about you?” I asked.

“I came to pick up some Titans Trooper and Fullsilver Summoner fan fiction. I’m preordering the next Assassin Family data card too.”

“Oh! Now that you mention it, I’d better order that too.”

After Gonzales had reminded me of that upcoming release, we went together to put in our preorders for the next data card in the Assassin Family anime series. After that, we left Animember and continued walking together to the nearest train station.

We had walked along the same street all the time when we’d been students.

When we walked together, we usually engaged in some manner of pointless conversation.

“Y’know, I was actually thinking of coming by your pharmacy tomorrow,” I said.

“Are you after info for your next job?”

“Nah. To be exact, I was going to stop by your store and some other shops nearby that deal with spaceships. I need a new radar. In the past, I used to have a mass-produced unit with particularly high specs, but I’m hoping to find an even better one now. And one that’s still a mass-produced model, of course.”

These were pretty tough criteria to meet, so I was planning to ask Gonzales to look into it for me before I made a circuit of relevant stores in the area.

“Ah, well, a new store recently opened that’d be perfect for you. I’ve still got some time to spare, and the sooner you get it, the better, right? Wanna go now?” Gonzales suggested.

After giving it some thought, I accepted Gonzales’s offer, and we made our way to the Black Market Shopping District.

The vibe there was the same as it ever was, but the setting sun made it look twice as suspicious.

The butcher there had a new flyer on the wall, announcing that “The Masses Born into the Greasy Mire Have Had Their Value Docked by Half!”

There were many kinds of shoppers here, crossing the street. Some of them laughed together while others talked to themselves.

With that scenery in the background, Gonzales led me to a store that not only sold supplies and armaments for ships, but home appliances, computers, droids, air-cars, and weapons. They sold intact units, but they also had parts and scrap for sale in a huge pile outside that was so high we couldn’t see anything about the shop before we entered. As we were only able to see the front door, it looked like a hoarder’s home at first. Anyway, this was called Qurees’s Recycle and Repairs Garage, and it fit right in with the other stores in the Black Market Shopping District.

In contrast to the outside, the store’s interior was pretty tidy. Secondhand laptops, Versitools, appliances, and weapons were all arranged neatly on the shelves.

At the back of the store was a petite woman—150 centimeters tall—with tanned skin, green eyes, and blonde hair that she wore in a bob cut. She was a young, pretty woman with a nice figure and curves in all the right places. She wore a yellow jumpsuit with tinted goggles on her head.

She greeted us with a smile. “Welcome! We buy, sell, and repair. What brings ya here today?”

NPC No. 82: “He and my mom were acquaintances, so I’ve known him since I was a kid.”

“I’m looking for a radar for a battlecraft. One with as wide a range as possible,” I said.

“How wide are we talking?”

“I’d like it to be able to detect objects at up to two billion kilometers, at the very least.”

“Two bill, huh? That woulda been a step behind the latest models seven years ago... These days, I bet we can get ya one that scans out to 2.8. You lookin’ for one of the latest models?”

“No thanks, 2.5 should be plenty,” I told her. “Have you got any with lots of battlefield experience?”

The lady behind the counter said her name was Greicia Qurees, and she was the owner of Qurees’s Recycle and Repairs Garage. Once I told her what I was looking for in detail, she started rattling off specs one after another.

“Lemme see... How about this model? This is the PKRE-88 from Flog Corporation, with a sensor range of 2.6 billion kilometers. It’s fitted with all the basic features. It’s also got an energy-saving feature that lets you use it up to 720 hours straight.”

In the blink of an eye, she’d produced exactly the kind of item I’d been looking for.

The unit itself was a box about fifty centimeters long, seventy centimeters wide, and fifty centimeters in height. In terms of appearance, it was nothing special, but it had a lot of heft to it.

Well, I guess this is actually the standard size for a radar.

“What will it cost?”

“About this much. I’ve already marked it down a fair bit, so I’m afraid I can’t take any more off,” she replied, showing me a price tag of 2.3 million credits.

Though that wasn’t outside my budget, I also had Pops hunting down a radar for me, so I was hesitant to make a purchase on the spot.

“The truth is, I already put in a request at the Dolg Repair Shop for a new radar, and I was planning to go with their choice if it turned out to be better,” I admitted to her. “Would it be possible to reserve this one for now?” Hopefully, she could put it aside for me, just in case.

“Dolg Repair Shop? Ya mean the one run by that old-timer Bill Dolg?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“In that case, I think we can go ahead,” she said. “I just got a call from the old man himself, asking if I had any good radars in stock. I bet he was asking on your behalf. Lemme just check to be sure... What’s your name?”

“Thank you very much! My name is John Ouzos. So you and Pops know each other?”

“He and my mom were acquaintances, so I’ve known him since I was a kid! I only opened my own store recently, though,” said Greicia.

After I took out my Versitool and contacted Pops, it turned out that his call to Qurees certainly had been about my radar. I paid for the unit and arranged for it to be delivered to the Dolg Repair Shop.

I guess it’s a small world after all...

The next day, I asked Gonzales to search for any other devices I might need to fit out my ship’s interior. Once he reported back with his findings, I paid for them all and arranged for same-day delivery. I didn’t feel good about leaving all that stuff on Pops’s doorstep, so I rented a storage unit near the workshop and asked for the goods to be delivered and stored there. I could only alter the ship’s interior to bring it in line with my own requirements after the ship had already arrived, so this seemed to be the way to go.

With that, I’d finished doing everything I could that day, so I decided to go to an izakaya—which was rare for me—and have something off their menu for dinner.

Or at least, that was my intention when I headed to the city’s downtown area, but I ran into someone I really would have rather avoided.

I tried to turn and run, but sadly, I was caught.

“So, after all the selfless advice I’ve given you, you still haven’t decided to join the army?” said my disagreeable captor, Riol Barnekust, with a note of irritation in his voice.

“I just can’t see how joining would benefit me,” I replied, putting my displeasure on full display.

But, of course, he paid no attention to that. “But Ami—I mean, our empress is on the verge of a crisis! As someone from one of the colony worlds she has always defended, don’t you think it’s time you pledged your fealty to Her Majesty and helped protect her?!”

“That’s just it. As someone from the colony worlds, I can’t have a career in the military. No matter what I achieve, the nobles and pureblood imperials will steal the credit. Which means I’ll just be considered useless anyway,” I said, pretty much repeating exactly what I’d said the first time he had tried to recruit me.

“Then I’ll arrange for you to be assigned to the unit under my direct command. If we do that...”

“Then I’m certain I won’t be of any use,” I countered. “If I’m assigned to a unit commanded by a star like you, everyone will hate my guts—someone like me just doesn’t belong. The only way I might be useful is as a fall guy when your subordinates screw up.”

Barnekust fell silent when I pointed that out.

It seemed like he had an idea about how his subordinates might act. Even if Barnekust himself had no such scheme in mind, he could surely foresee how his subordinates—or even superiors—might use me as a scapegoat.

I followed up by pressing him on some information he’d carelessly let slip to me.

“Also, what do you mean that the empress is on the verge of a crisis? Under the reins of the previous emperor and the present empress, most of their subjects have been grateful for their policies. It’s not like the army would lose to a band of pirates or terrorists either. Just where is this crisis supposed to be coming from?”

When I asked him that, Barnekust furrowed his brow for a moment. Then, after a long sigh, he spoke.

“You know that some of the nobles have contempt for the empress, right? There are rumors that they’re plotting a rebellion. So we need all the allies we can get,” Barnekust admitted. His hand went to rest on the gun he carried on his hip.

He didn’t draw it, but I could tell he was serious.

At the very least, I knew he was a cut above Arodich Ireblugas, the last idiot who had tried this with me.

“I may not show it, but I really do value your eyes,” he added.

“Oh? But I haven’t had cybernetic implants put in.”

I’ve always wondered, just why is he so set on recruiting me, huh? There’s gotta be a ton of better candidates among the aristocracy.

Seeing no alternative, I began to reach for my own gun.

Suddenly, someone called out to us. “What are you doing?”

Barnekust and I immediately turned to see who it was. We were greeted by the sight of a group of imperial soldiers wearing the same uniform as Barnekust. The burliest among them was glaring right at us.

When Barnekust saw the leader, he snapped to attention and saluted him.

The man displayed no reaction whatsoever to Barnekust’s acknowledgment. “What is an imperial soldier—of our glorious imperial army—doing challenging a civilian to a frontier-style shoot-out? This ain’t what I like to see. Is this a squabble over a woman? If so, keep yer gun holstered and fight with your fists, man!” said the man. He grinned as he did a bit of shadowboxing.

The woman standing next to him chided him. “Your Excellency, please don’t give him any ideas.” She looked like an ice queen—the situation had put a look of disbelief on her face.

The man glanced back at Barnekust and, by way of introduction, said, “You, young man. What’s your name, rank, and unit? I’m Jack Baldo Breskin, by the way. An admiral. I’m the commander of the Central Fleet’s Interceptor Squadron and the First Fleet.”

Aha, so that’s why Barnekust snapped to attention so fast. Since this guy is the same rank as the imperial guard commander Kielect Erundibar—the one who led the raid against the Kaides Pirate Band—he’s probably also a marquess.

Barnekust gave another salute and introduced himself. “Sir, I’m Lieutenant Commander Riol Barnekust! I command the Eighteenth Space Division within the Planetary Defense Fleet, partnered with the Imperial Capital Defense Force!”

“That’s the propaganda division, isn’t it? If you’re heading up PR for the army, should you really be getting into duels over women?” said Lord Breskin, looking at the two of us with exasperation written on his face.

I realized from his gaze that he was perfectly willing to deal out judgment against me as well.

NPC No. 83: “I just know he’ll pull the same crap again. I don’t need this kind of stress.”

If His Lordship the Admiral decides that I’m the offender here and that Barnekust was trying to talk me down or arrest me, he and his lackies will definitely move to apprehend me.

I therefore told him the unalloyed truth.

“He’s an acquaintance from my high school days, and he’s always trying to get me to join the army,” I said.

His Lordship the Admiral must have believed my testimony, as he turned to Barnekust and reprimanded him. “Once upon a time, we had conscription, but nowadays, the army is made up of volunteers. Even if you manage to press someone into joining up against his will, it’s not like he’ll bump up your stats, ya know?”

“I’ve told him that so many times, but he just won’t listen,” I said.

After I interjected with that additional criticism, the admiral turned back to Barnekust. “Hey, now. If you’re too pushy, men and women will hate your guts. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?” he said. “What am I going to do with you?”

“But sir, I—”

Before Barnekust could stand up for himself, the admiral went on in even stronger terms. “Men and women also hate the kind of guy who’d treat the lives of others as disposable, so long as it advances his own career.”

Even if Barnekust himself had no such intentions, anyone looking on from outside would surely conclude that he was only trying to force people into joining because it would benefit him in some way.

After receiving this lecture, Barnekust looked at his feet and fell silent.

I saw this as my chance to flee the scene. “Well, you’ll have to excuse me,” I said to the admiral.

“Sure. Though he’s not in my fleet, it looks like one of my subordinates caused you some trouble.”

“No, no, not at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

Hooray, I’m saved!

I assumed he’d stop me, but thankfully, he let me head straight home!

Still, was that really Admiral Jack Baldo Breskin? The one who goes by the alias Venom Tusk? I’d rather not get too chummy with him...

☆☆☆

Aside: Jack Baldo Breskin

I took a hard look at the young field officer standing in front of me.

I could see why he was chosen to lead the propaganda unit—he was a good-looking fellow. He was apparently no slouch when it came to warfare either. But he didn’t seem well-suited to scouting new talent for the army.

“Lieutenant Commander Barnekust, pushy recruiting tactics like that will only make enemies for you. It would be one thing if that civilian was only hostile toward you, but we can’t have him resenting the whole army, can we?” I said.

“No, sir...”

The young man seemed to realize his own blunder, and he didn’t try to give me any pointless excuses. At least he had that over the kind of fellow who would refuse to admit his mistakes and try to pass the blame onto others.

“Well, in that case, under no circumstances are you to approach recruits like that again. We may belong to different forces, but consider this to be advice from a superior officer.”

“Understood, sir...”

“Good. You may go.”

“Yes, sir. Excuse me...”

With great reluctance, the youngster—Lieutenant Commander Barnekust—bowed his head to me and made himself scarce.

“I just know he’ll pull the same crap again,” I muttered to myself. “I don’t need this kind of stress.”

He may have accepted my words of caution this once, but knowing his type, this won’t be the last time.

My second-in-command, Commander Shuneira Flos, shared her thoughts. “One reason for his enthusiasm here does come to mind. Lieutenant Commander Riol Barnekust and Her Majesty Amilia Frannodol Orvarus were childhood friends,” she noted.

Given her report about the lieutenant commander, I was able to infer a little more about him.

“I see... He thinks he can open up a path to become emperor consort if he gets results. And what about that civilian?”

“Just a moment,” said Shuneira as she operated her tablet computer. She found information on him immediately. “His name is John Ouzos. He’s a Knight-rank mercenary in the guild. It looks like he went to the same high school as Lieutenant Commander Barnekust. Also, like Barnekust, he is a survivor of the Teacher-Student Mercenary Recruiting Incident.”

While the incident in question had taken place a few years ago, it was famous. I knew it well.

That reminded me that something about that youngster had seemed familiar. When I heard the name of the incident, it clicked in my head that he was one of its survivors—as well as one of its victims.

If one of the students who’d been killed had been my child, I definitely would have beaten that bastard of a teacher to death.

“I also remember that incident well. Wasn’t the other survivor a girl?” I asked.

According to my recollection, the incident had only two survivors. One was Barnekust. I was sure the other was a female student who was famous now.

“Yes, sir. Her name is Scuna Noswile, a Planet Racer. She’s expected to be the racer who brings in the most earnings from wins again this year.”

“But I’ve never heard the name John Ouzos before,” I admitted.

While I remembered the incident in question well, his name didn’t ring a bell. I’m not going senile, am I?

“The media at the time only focused on the handsome high school boy who survived—meaning Riol Barnekust—and Scuna Noswile, a pretty girl. It looks like they reported it as if the more homely John Ouzos was never involved. Most newspaper articles at the time were written along the lines of ‘The only students to survive were Riol Barnekust (16), Scuna Noswile (16), and one other.’ His name was only mentioned in the first daily bulletin issued by the empire and in the police report.”

The media can be brutal at times, huh?

In other words, the only ones who really know how good he is are his fellow mercs and those two survivors. He may not be one of the more famous mercs, but I guess there could be some value in recruiting him...

“Look into him a little more. Just don’t pull any blunders trying to bring him in, okay?”

“Very good, sir.”

It’ll still probably be impossible to recruit him, but maybe we can still get him to work with us.

★★★

Three days after I bumped into that jerk, I finally got the call from Pops.

“It’s arrived,” he said.

Those two words were enough to send me into a paroxysm of joy. I went to the shop the next day in high spirits.

My brand-new vehicle was a little bigger than the Patchwork I’d had, but despite its size, the silhouette was about the same.

“You’ll want to start by tuning the controls, yeah?”

“Yes. Can I rent some space to work on it?” I asked.

“Sure.”

The previous Patchwork had been based on a secondhand Slits model ship from Eyofs Corporation. I had looked around for a bunch of cheap parts and had done about seventy percent of the work to put it back together. It was then that I had first met Pops, and he’d taught me a lot as we’d finished assembling it.

At that point in time, the biggest sticking point had been the control system. I understood my own habits when it came to piloting, so I was able to adjust things so I would get the best possible performance. I was even more particular about that aspect of a ship than its radar and defense systems.

Now that I had a brand-new Eyofs Corporation Noltegrame model in front of me, there was no need for me to procure all kinds of different parts to replace them with old ones. But I still had to upgrade and adjust the control system.

If I don’t do this, it wouldn’t be my ship.

I quietly worked on it by myself in the space Pops was letting me use. Of course, I didn’t forget to ask Pops to double-check my work too.

I made some adjustments, I did a test flight, and I followed that up with more adjustments and another test flight. This went on for five days until it finally felt right.

When I was finished with that part, it was finally time to install the high-end radar I’d bought—the PKRE-88 from Flog Corporation—along with some additional armaments and the fittings I wanted for the interior.

After another three days, I was finally done with installing and configuring things, but this ship still wasn’t ready for service.

I still had to stock it with food, bedclothes, first aid kits, and tools, and I needed to buy a spare pilot suit to put in there too. Not to mention that I had to make sure I had enough arms in there, stock it with some basic kitchenware and dishes, and stash some hygiene products as well, like toilet paper, toothpaste, and soap.

As soon as I had taken care of all that stuff, it would finally be ready to begin service as my new ship.

NPC No. 84: “For the sake of the empire’s future, we must nip this in the bud.”

After all that, I finally had a new ship, but the question of what to name it remained.

For my previous ship, since I had gathered a lot of different components to assemble it, I’d pondered over whether to name it the Hodge Podge, the Patchwork, or the Frankenship. In the end, I’d decided that Patchwork had been the name that sounded the smartest.

However, while I had tinkered with the control system this time, this ship was entirely brand-new. That felt like it called for a different name.

On the other hand, picking a new name would reveal that I had bought a new craft—and that I had spent a fair bit of money on it too. The ghouls who lurked around the guild’s ATMs were sharp enough to catch a detail like that, and they wouldn’t hesitate to ask me for money, whether I knew them already or not.

I’d spent 3.85 million on the ship itself, 420,000 on modifications, and another 49,000 on rent for a space to work on it (including the cost of labor for Pops). In all, my total expenses for the ship itself came to 4,319,000 credits. And when I added the cost of the radar—2.3 million—and the 931,000 I spent buying amenities for the ship’s interior, I had spent a grand total of 7.55 million to secure my new ship.

Candidates for a new name included the “Insurance”—since I’d purchased it with insurance money—and the “S-class,” which sounded like a code name for a prototype to me. But when I considered these, I realized that the former would make it too obvious that I’d received an insurance payout. As for the latter, it might make people think, “A prototype, eh? That must mean it’s a superhigh-spec machine. A ship like that doesn’t suit a dork like you, so I’ll use it instead!” Since it was possible that one of the moronic, macho protagonist types around the guild would point a gun at me and start yelling things to that effect, I rejected that idea.

In the end, I deliberately chose not to change the name of my ship. It’d be better if my craft continued to give everyone the same impression that I myself gave off, after all.

As for the armaments, when I ordered the new ship, I had chosen the same quantum beams and proton torpedoes that I’d used before. That meant my image on the battlefield wouldn’t really change either.

After saying my thanks to Pops, his wife, and the other employees in the workshop, I made my final payment, which was the 49,000 credits for garage rental and their assistance with the modifications.

Before I rushed back to the guild branch’s hangar, I flew to a big-box wholesale supermarket to stock up on water and other provisions. It was always possible that I might have to set off on a new mission once I got to the guild, so there was no harm in being prepared.

Naturally, I also went to Animember and Seizaban, where I picked up the latest volume of Ultimate Load—along with the season five data card for the anime—and a variety of doujinshi. And since I’d learned from the tragedy that had befallen my previous collection, I also purchased a Guard Box—a container that was about as durable as a plane’s black box—and stored everything in there.

I parked my ship in the guild’s hangar and went to the reception counter. There, I greeted Old Man Lohnes.

“Sup, it’s been a while.”

“Hey. I see you finished work on the new ship. What are you gonna call it?”

“I’m sticking with the ‘Patchwork.’”

“I feel you’ve missed an opportunity there, but I guess that’ll keep the lions at bay...” he said.

Normally, one would say “hyenas” here, but according to Lohnes, “Actually, hyenas are good hunters—they always band together to take down their prey. The lions come and snatch it from them afterward. Since there’s no way hyenas can stand up to the lions in a fight, they have no choice but to wait for the leftovers. That’s why I’ve decided to call anyone who snatches what someone else has earned a lion.”

“Well, that’s the name I’d like to register,” I said.

“Got it.”

Old Man Lohnes got started on the ship registration process while I looked over the list of available jobs. While I was browsing, my Versitool—along with the ones belonging to everyone else in the reception hall—chimed with an alert for an emergency announcement.

When I read the message, it explained that a faction opposing the empress had launched a coup d’état. They had invaded Planet Gatohaga, which was inside Baron Sackisewyo’s territory, and were assuming control.

Baron Sackisewyo had fought desperately to resist the invasion so the civilians who had survived the initial assault could get away. Three heavy transport ships full of civilians had escaped. However, anti-imperialists had pursued the civilian transport ships with the intention of shooting them down. The Central Fleet’s Seventh Crusader Fleet, which had happened to be nearby at the time, had received the baron’s SOS message and had been able to rescue the civilians just in time.

Following that, there were further details from Baroness Sackisewyo, who had also survived the invasion.

For risking his own life and fighting courageously to protect his citizens, as well as for having given survivors time to escape, Baron Sackisewyo had been granted the title of Count and was being awarded the Shining Claw Dragon Fang Medal.

At the same time, all the soldiers who had fought alongside him—private soldiers, garrisoned troops, and volunteers—were being honored with the title of Dragon Fang Warrior.

Finally, we were informed that six hours after this announcement, all inhabited planets within the empire would be placed under martial law.

When Old Man Lohnes and I finished reading this, we were momentarily at a loss for words.

“They’ve got quite the situation on their hands,” he said. “We’ll definitely be getting a request to sortie here at the Mercenaries Guild.”

“All inhabited planets under martial law, huh...? Won’t everyone in town start panic-buying food and stuff? I’m glad I went shopping beforehand...”

Seeing their opportunity to make some money, all the mercenaries around us started clamoring for attention. The guild workers looked anxious about the impact this would have on their lives.

I wonder why they announced a state of emergency, though. Their usual approach is to keep everything a secret from the general public until it’s been resolved and just make an announcement afterward.

“As of yet, they haven’t ordered the guild to get involved. Perhaps you’d better go do any errands you have while you still can?” Old Man Lohnes offered.

“All right, I’ll just run back home for a minute, then,” I said, taking his advice and exiting the guild.

I guess this is what Barnekust was talking about the other day when he tried to recruit me again...

☆☆☆

Aside: Third-Person Perspective

These events took place one hour prior to the moment the message announcing a state of emergency arrived on John Ouzos’s Versitool.

A young woman’s enraged voice resounded in a spacious conference room inside the imperial palace on the Imperial Homeworld of Hain.

“Curse them! We cannot believe they would resort to such violence. If they harbor such resentment toward the throne, why not target us directly?!”

This young woman with bluish-silver hair, pitch-black eyes, and fair skin glared at the report she was reading before slamming her fist down on the table in front of her.

The prime minister addressed the openly enraged empress. “The Seventh Crusader Fleet of the Central Fleet was the first to respond to the emergency. According to their reports, the anti-imperial forces have been unable to make any further advances at the present juncture,” he said, sharing the latest information. “I would expect no less from Commodore Tornchied, the Revenant—a man feared even by pirates.”

Everyone present at the meeting began to propose their own measures.

“Let’s send reinforcements now, while the commodore has the enemy under control!”

“I think it would be better to conceal this from our citizens until the matter is resolved.”

“We must thank Baron Sackisewyo, the man who risked his own life to buy us time to suppress the enemy and to give his people time to escape,” said the young empress, Amilia Frannodol Orvarus. She then closed her eyes in a moment of silent prayer.

Suddenly, there was a notification of a new communication for the conference room.

Though everyone present seemed suspicious regarding who might have contacted them, the prime minister answered the call.

“You’ve reached the conference room of the imperial palace on Hain, the Galactic Empire’s homeworld. Now, just who is this?!” he yelled.

However, the thin, middle-aged man with a toothbrush mustache who appeared on the hologram display ignored the prime minister and spoke directly to the empress.

“It’s been some time since we last spoke, Empress Amilia.”

The moment the empress saw this man’s face, her own contorted in outrage. “Marquess Fildeld Vastorg!” she cried. “You’re the conspirator behind all this?!”

“Indeed. However, my actions have all been for the good of the empire. Because of the laws that the previous ruler, your father, enacted in his folly—which did nothing but deprive nobles of their authority, I must say—we, the legitimate aristocracy of this empire, have been put at a grave disadvantage.”

Though the man maintained a respectful manner of speech, his expression and tone displayed his open contempt for the empress.

Hearing the laws her father had enacted insulted, the empress raised her voice to correct him. “You mean the Imperial Territory Reforms!”

The marquess paid her no mind and continued his speech. “Despite our many attempts to advise against their implementation, we see no prospect of improvement. Therefore, we—the traditional, legitimate aristocracy—have acted in order to take back our dignity. We have just purged the territory of a lesser noble whose approval we were unable to secure. Our efforts will continue.” The marquess stroked his neat mustache with a look of satisfaction. “Your Majesty, though you still seem unable to comprehend the wishes of the legitimate aristocracy, am I right to assume that you would prefer not to see any more of the empire’s citizens slaughtered? They’re such valuable resources.”

Everyone in the conference room was stunned to hear the marquess speak of the empire’s citizens as if they were mere things. Their feelings soon evolved into intense anger.

“I would also rather that we didn’t deplete our resources through further massacres. But if our wishes continue to be ignored, we will have no choice but to continue as we are. You will have to pay for years of treating the legitimate aristocracy of this empire with contempt. If you are able to understand our wishes at this time, Your Majesty, then we would like to ask you to abdicate the throne and name me as your successor! If our demands are not met, then we shall continue to deplete your resources even further. Well, please give this your careful consideration.”

The marquess grinned widely and ended the transmission.

For a while, everyone in the room was so shocked by the sheer arrogance of his words that they were unable to speak.

The silence was finally broken by Lieutenant General Sawlock Mauston, the commander of the Planetary Defense Force. “I knew it! We should have eliminated every one of those dissidents long ago! We must assemble a strike force immediately and stamp out every one of those imbeciles!” bellowed the aging commander. His face turned bright red, and he was breathing heavily through his nostrils.

Admiral Jack Baldo Breskin, commander of the Central Fleet’s Interceptor Squadron and the First Fleet, and Marquess Terry Ranguis Orvarus, the prime minister, stepped in to calm down the agitated Lieutenant General Mauston.

“Calm down, gramps. He ain’t necessarily the only enemy we’re dealing with. We’ve got to investigate who’s behind him first.”

“In fact, it would appear that the Kingdom of Planet Nekirelma is also caught up in this, behind the scenes.”

“Those shameless cowards?!”

“You never know what a coward’ll do when he’s cornered. So calm down, man.”

The empress had remained silent for a time, but she then opened her mouth to speak.

“I’ll join our soldiers on the front lines,” she said.

“Princ—I mean, Your Majesty! You mustn’t!”

Lieutenant General Mauston, who had been responsible for guarding the empress when she was a young girl, broke in hurriedly to try to dissuade her.

“Do not fret so. I shall take the imperial guard and other fleets besides as my escorts. I will entrust Duke Orvarus with defending the rear.”

“Nngh... His Excellency the Duke is indeed trustworthy...”

The empress then addressed an elderly man seated behind her. “Great-uncle, may I depend on your assistance?”

The elderly man stepped forward. “You may, Your Majesty. Despite my old age, I will be sure to defend the homeworld in your absence. In that case, perhaps we should issue a decree of martial law throughout the empire? We shall stipulate that only soldiers and mercenaries may move freely with no exemptions for commoners or nobles.”

With a bow of obeisance, the duke proceeded to suggest a course of action without hesitation.

“You propose to inform our citizens of what has happened? And to extend the order to nobles...” someone in the room commented.

Everyone looked perplexed by his suggestion—it was far out of line with usual protocol.

However, the duke simply smiled broadly. “For the sake of the empire’s future, we must nip this in the bud.”

★★★

NPC No. 85: “Just hearing him mention that their king is ‘bedridden’ makes him really damned suspicious.”

When I left the Mercenaries Guild, instead of going straight home, I headed to Gonzales’s shop in the hopes of obtaining a bit of information.

As I made my way there, I found the city in something of a commotion. Shoppers were fighting to get into stores selling food and pharmaceuticals, and businesses such as restaurants, clothing stores, offices, and travel agencies had all closed early. After all, the city was going to be under martial law in six hours’ time. During the state of emergency, no one would be allowed outside, so the civilians were all desperate to get ready.

Among the crowds were some who looked like they didn’t understand the situation, and there were plenty of disturbances on the road.

Stores were closing one after the other in the Black Market Shopping District as well, but it looked like stores selling food intended to stay open right up until the curfew went into effect.

Outside the butcher that I always walked past, there was a new sign up today. It read “Perfectly Spherical Meatballs Coated in a Layer of Careworn Black Sludge Before Being Plunged into the Greasy Mire.” They were clearly hoping to make a quick buck before martial law kicked in, and the meatballs were selling like hotcakes.

With that spectacle still visible out of the corner of my eye, I arrived at my informant’s operation—Pattson’s Pharmacy.

“Hey,” I said, waving casually as I stepped into the shop. I had expected it to be swamped like all the other stores, but there wasn’t a single customer to be seen. Perhaps it was because patients required a doctor’s prescription to buy medicine here.

For his part, Gonzales didn’t look too worried. I found him inside, calmly reading a book.

“Hey. After info on that coup d’état?” he asked.

“Yeah. Do you have enough food, medication ingredients, and things like that?”

“I stocked up in bulk a little while ago, so I’ll be fine. I also have plenty of batteries and nutrient fluid, and I’ve got quite a lot of normal food.”

“You didn’t have any customers fighting to get their prescriptions filled?”

Gonzales wore his usual expression, showing no signs of anxiety about the prospect of martial law. “The local hospital was closed today, so I didn’t get many direct referrals. Some orders did come in via comms, but I’ve just finished filling those.”

“Don’t tell me you knew beforehand?” I asked.

“I knew that a certain faction of nobles had assembled in one place. There was conclusive evidence on the Net,” said Gonzales.

He held out his hand—I took this to mean that finding out anything else was going to cost me.

His usual rate was roughly 50,000 credits for one piece of information, so I took 50,000 of the 100,000 credits I’d brought with me to pay for the first piece I was after.

Gonzales was apparently satisfied with that amount. “This was on the Kingdom of Planet Nekirelma’s internal Net. I think it was probably taken moments before the coup started.”

He played a video for me. On the screen was what looked like a podium with a man wearing extravagant clothes standing behind it. Beyond him, on the wall, hung the flag of Nekirelma.

“Gentlemen! Our opportunity has finally arrived!” the man began. “The Galactic Empire, which has invaded and colonized so many states throughout the galaxy, is beginning to show signs of collapse! The current empress, Amilia Frannodol Orvarus, is such an uninspiring leader that more than half of the empire’s citizens refuse to support her! The proof of this is that the empire’s citizens have sought our protection! They’ve pleaded with us to lead a new government once the current empress has been disposed of! We have listened to their pleas and provided them with both funding and arms! His Majesty, our king, though he remains bedridden, expects great things from this operation! Once the people of the empire have triumphed in battle, a new, glorious path awaits us as the new rulers of the galaxy! This is a call to arms! We shall fight to take the galaxy for ourselves!”

The gaudily dressed man smiled as if he thought he’d carried his speech off very well, and the video ended there.

Letting the video sink in, I could only bury my face in my hands.

I had considered the possibility that the Kingdom of Planet Nekirelma was behind the rebellion. The problem, however, was in the details shared in the speech.

“There are a lot of things I could take issue with in what he said, but...regarding his claims that the current empress is an uninspiring leader and that more than half our citizens refuse to support her...the empress has a seventy-five percent approval rating, doesn’t she?”

“I’m guessing that, as far as the guy giving that address was concerned, only nobles count as citizens. It might look like the majority of people oppose her if you’re only looking at the aristocracy,” noted Gonzales.

“After that, he said they’ll lead a new government once the empress is gotten rid of... Like our nobles would ever seriously make a request like that! Even a child could tell that they’re just waiting for their chance to take out their collaborators! Though I guess he’s saying otherwise on purpose...” I said.

“Of course. He knows the nobles in the empire are watching, and he’s hoping to convince them to let their guards down. He probably also thinks they’ll be so fatigued after their battle against imperial forces that Nekirelma can easily beat them.”

“Just hearing him mention that their king is ‘bedridden’ makes him really damned suspicious.”

“If I’m not mistaken, that man is their prime minister, Marquess Kaiesse Dawin. People say he’s a shrewd minister whom the king trusts utterly.”

“Yeah, he’d definitely be the first person to say that.”

There were a lot of other claims that I could have taken issue with in his speech, but those were the biggest holes.

In any case, since these follow-ups were just making my head hurt, I decided to move on to the question I had originally intended to ask Gonzales.

“Tell me, roughly how big is their armada right now?”

While Gonzales probably wouldn’t be able to give me an exact number with his sources, the more information I had to work with, the better.

“With the nobles’ forces alone, and including drones, remote-controlled gunships, and the like, it’s most likely around 400,000 ships. On top of that, it’s unknown how large a force Nekirelma will contribute, but they’ll probably add at least 500,000 ships to the nobles’ side,” Gonzales said. “However, since the presence of the Seventh Fleet has been enough to bring them to a standstill, it seems like the nobles are waiting for reinforcements. The Seventh Fleet only has about 10,000 ships, including their unmanned vessels.”

Gonzales was the one who had gathered this material, so it was sure to contain very few errors. Even so, I couldn’t help but think he was wrong about the attitudes of the nobles.

“Nah. I’m guessing about ninety percent of the nobles are saying, ‘Who does this “Revenant” think he is?! He’s nothing but a down-and-out pseudo aristocrat, born to a common woman, who put together a band of incompetent peasants to help him pretend he’s a great commander! He’s just lucky I haven’t had the chance to bring my own prowess to bear against him—he hasn’t even a small fraction of my abilities! In fact, he’s so puny that there would be no satisfaction in crushing him—I’ll yield this opportunity to strike against him to you, good sir.’ They’re talking a big game, but since they’re all actually scared of Commodore Tornchied, they’ll be trying to push each other into the line of fire,” I suggested.

The finer details of their conversations might be a little different, but that’s gotta be about the shape of it, right?

At that point, I had exhausted my interest in these nobles, so I moved on to the second request I had for Gonzales.

“Another thing. Have you got a detailed map of the sector they’ve chosen as the battlefield?”

“Yeah. Wait one sec.”

Though I could have gotten a map at any regular bookstore or convenience store, the detailed map I was after would come with noble fleet formations—as well as the locations of military and police structures and asteroids around any planets in the vicinity and their interior layouts—inscribed on it.

While Gonzales was getting the map ready for me, I became curious about the book he’d been reading before I arrived. I glanced at the cover and saw that it was an old light novel called The Blustery Continent.

Once I received my detailed map of the sector where the battle was to take place, I promptly exited Pattson’s Pharmacy. I needed to get home before martial law was enforced.

However, I was curious about those “Perfectly Spherical Meatballs Coated in a Layer of Careworn Black Sludge Before Being Plunged into the Greasy Mire,” so I bought a healthy serving before I went home.

Once I got back, I cleaned my apartment and took care of my laundry before having a late lunch with “Perfectly Spherical Meatballs Coated in a Layer of Careworn Black Sludge Before Being Plunged into the Greasy Mire” as my side dish. After that, I kicked back and caught up on some anime I’d missed.

That was when my long-awaited summons arrived from the Mercenaries Guild. More than seven hours had passed since the state of emergency was announced, so martial law was already in effect. Part of me wanted to ignore the call, but since this one was mandatory, I couldn’t do that.

I begrudgingly got ready and stepped outside to see that the streets were totally empty now that we were past curfew. It was like a ghost town.

Even public transportation services had been suspended, so I asked the superintendent at my apartment building if I could borrow one of the shared bikes that were available to residents. I rode that to the Mercenaries Guild.

On my way there, I was stopped by police, as expected, but after showing them my notifications from the Mercenaries Guild, they let me go on my way.

When I arrived, it was packed to the gills with mercenaries who’d been called up to take part in the operation.

NPC No. 86: “Don’t be ridiculous! You can pay me when you get back!”

There was a pretty big crowd of mercenaries inside the guild. It honestly looked like the venue for a certain biannual event.

While some of my acquaintances were likely among the group here, it was going to be impossible to find them with so many people packed inside.

While I was wondering what to do, a guild worker with a megaphone appeared and gave us instructions. “Greetings, mercenaries! Please make your way to the main hall promptly! I repeat! Please make your way to the main hall!”

The hall in question was the same one that’d been used when we had assembled to discuss the assault on the Kaides Pirate Band. It was also where various ceremonies would be held.

When I entered the main hall, I saw people in uniform standing onstage. There were several more uniformed people waiting by the wall where the mercenaries were gathered. Once all the mercenaries were inside, one of the soldiers sent off a communication on his Versitool before asking for the microphone.

“Ah, yes. We are about to hear an address from Her Imperial Majesty Amilia Frannodol Orvarus, the thirty-eighth ruler of our empire. Please give the empress your undivided attention,” said the soldier.

Then, a gorgeous woman with bluish-silver hair, jet-black eyes, and fair skin was projected in front of us. It went without saying that this was Our Chosen Beauty and Empress, aka Amilia Frannodol Orvarus, the thirty-eighth ruler of the empire.

I figured that this was a live feed being shown to every Mercenaries Guild branch in the empire.

“Ladies and gentlemen, soldiers and mercenaries,” she began. “I thank you all for gathering here today. Though I am sure you’ve already heard this, a faction of our nobles who have long been dissatisfied with my leadership has finally attacked me head-on in a coup d’état. This is all due to my own lack of discretion. These nobles have demanded that I yield the throne to them.”

She went on. “They say that if I don’t, they will attack another planet. However! I have no intention of yielding the throne to people who liken my citizens to a resource and refer to their slaughter as mere consumption!”

I’d heard her speak on TV a number of times before, but I was struck by just how beautiful her voice was.

It would be the height of disrespect to say this, but if she learned to act a little? I think she could make it as a voice actress.

“Thankfully, the Seventh Fleet has engaged their forces. The two sides are currently in a standoff, so this faction has made no further incursions as of yet. Right now is our chance to surround them and prevent any further harm! On this occasion, I shall join you on the front line, accompanied by my imperial guard. I shall entrust Admiral Breskin, the commander of the Central Fleet’s Crusaders, to lead us in battle. You may rest assured that I, a mere girl with no real combat experience, will not be commanding our forces. Now, soldiers and mercenaries, ladies and gentlemen! Please lend me your strength!” Her Majesty the Empress said with a bow.

I bet that everybody watching this broadcast is shocked.

The empress of the galaxy just bowed her head to us. And this isn’t an order—it’s a plea.

Some might say that this was a bad move from the perspective of maintaining her authority. However, it didn’t feel too shabby to be on the receiving end of a request from Our Chosen Beauty and Empress. The soldiers and mercenaries in the hall all erupted in excitement.

And, to take advantage of our enthusiasm...

One of the soldiers on the stage shouted out an order. “Those of you from the Ittsu Guild Branch—for the most part—will all be under the command of the Eleventh Fleet. Be sure to arrive on the battlefield in the vicinity of Planet Gatohaga in the next seventy-two hours! Prepare for takeoff!”

The moment he finished speaking, everyone’s thundering footsteps toward the guild’s hangar sounded like an avalanche.

To avoid getting caught in traffic, I waited in the main hall and watched the torrent until everyone else had left. Then, in the hope of getting just a little more information, I calmly went to talk to Old Man Lohnes.

“You’re pretty relaxed, given how quick everyone else was to fly out,” he commented.

“It’s dangerous to fly out when the hangar’s that crowded. More importantly, I’d like to know more about the space around Planet Gatohaga and get a map.”

Though I’d already gotten a map from Gonzales, if I combined that one with a map from another source and compared them, I’d have an even more detailed map.

“I thought you might ask me that. Here you go. You might find it useful; it’s got some info on what looks like a secret military base. And it wasn’t free for me, okay?” said Old Man Lohnes as he handed me a memory stick.

“Thanks,” I replied. “You’re not gonna charge me for this, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You can pay me when you get back!” Lohnes sounded annoyed.

“All right. I’ll even give you a little extra.”

Following that exchange, I was about to climb aboard the Patchwork—which stood out in the now-empty hangar—when I noticed that there was still one other ship here besides mine.

It was an Si-09 Egalim from the Tielsad Corporation. In other words, it belonged to Léopard—Fialka Tielsad.

Then, for some reason, Tielsad herself came strutting up to me.

“You’re always late to fly out, aren’t you?” she commented. “Even though everyone else is in such a hurry.”

“Yes, well...”

“If you launch now, I suppose you won’t feel so anxious about the traffic. But won’t you end up running late?”

“Well, I think I can make up for lost time by using the right gates,” I said.

Though we had spoken a few times in the past, we were only acquaintances. I couldn’t guess what she wanted from me.

“Everyone from the Ittsu Branch will be under the command of the Eleventh Fleet, won’t we?”

“Yes, that’s right. Is that not the case for you too, Miss Tielsad?”

“I received a direct order to join the First Fleet. I’ve been transferred to Her Majesty’s personal guard.”

“That’s amazing, though I’m hardly surprised.”

Popular folks in elite circles really live in a different world.

And since she’s a bombshell too, she’ll look pretty good next to the empress.

I guess she’ll just be there inside a battlecraft, though.

For some reason, Tielsad then looked at me as if she wanted to say something else. If she had something she wanted to ask me, I wished she’d just come out and say it.

But some time passed, and she showed no signs of saying whatever it was.

“Well, you’ll have to excuse me,” I said, electing to act rather than wait for the conversation to conclude. “If we don’t launch now, we really won’t make it in time, so let’s get ready for takeoff.”

Incidentally, it really was getting late enough that we had to leave now.

“Y-You’re right. We mustn’t be late,” said Tielsad. She averted her eyes for some reason as she turned away and hurried back to her own ship.

And so it was that I—on a mission directly from Her Imperial Majesty Amilia Frannodol Orvarus, the thirty-eighth ruler of our empire—took off for the Zon sector, where Planet Gatohaga was located, to help quash the rebellion.

☆☆☆

Aside: Fialka Tielsad

After landing my trusty ship Egalim in the docking bay of my mother ship, the Uklimo, I let out a heavy sigh.

I only meant to casually greet a work acquaintance, but it ended up feeling quite awkward!

“After finally getting to talk to him, you failed to have any sort of meaningful conversation, didn’t you?” said Shelley.

As I returned to the Uklimo’s lounging area, I found she had already prepared a sports drink for me.

“Well, I... I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.”

In my career so far, I had experienced some minor conflicts between nobles and some pirate hunts, but I had little experience in battles where both the allied and enemy forces were so massive in scale. I had only seen that kind of combat in VR training simulations.

Moreover, there simply hadn’t been any battles on this scale during the reigns of the last three emperors either. This experience really was going to be a first for everyone.

But in spite of that, he didn’t look worried at all.

Since he was older than me and a more senior mercenary, I’d thought about asking him what his mindset was when approaching such a mission...but I hadn’t been able to bring it up.

“Why weren’t you open with him from the start? You could’ve just said, ‘I’ve never taken part in a battle like this outside of simulations. I’m really concerned, and I’d like to hear your advice.’”

“H-How could I ask him that?!” I said, raising my voice in disbelief at what Shelley had just suggested.

True, that was exactly what I had hoped to ask him, but the way Shelley had acted it out—crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking up at me timidly? I could never bring myself to talk to him like that!

“Come on! Take off already! We can’t afford to be late!” I said.

“Quite right, milady,” replied Shelley.

Well, don’t you look nonchalant, Shelley... You’ll be sorry, I promise you!

★★★

Though I’d fought alongside military forces a number of times in battles against pirates and terrorists, this battle would be on a significantly larger scale.

In addition to the imperial guard protecting Her Majesty, six of the twelve fleets under the Central Fleet had assembled here: the First, the Second, the Seventh, the Eighth, the Eleventh, and the Twelfth. All of these had brought more than the 10,000 or so ships they usually took on patrol. Their numbers were also bolstered by drones, remote-controlled gunships, and emergency reserves, giving each fleet 50,000 ships. Along with the imperial guard’s forces, there were about 350,000 ships assembled in all.

On top of that, the mercenaries who had swarmed in from around the galaxy easily numbered somewhere between 300,000 to 400,000.

Our ranks were bolstered even further by the Planetary Defense Force, which could be considered the private armies of nobles allied with the remaining crusader fleets under the Central Fleet.

I guessed that the other half of the Central Fleet’s crusader fleets had remained back at the imperial capital to prepare for the worst.

Besides all of these battlecraft, the planet’s vicinity was also buzzing with refueling vessels and colonies that provided a base for the workers on the supply chain.

After a roughly nine-hour journey through a series of gates to make it to the battlefield, I arrived on the scene. I was greeted by some instructions from the commander of the Eleventh Fleet that were being issued to mercenaries sent from the guild’s Ittsu branch, which included me.

“Soldiers and mercenaries, listen well. We will mainly be attacking the enemy’s right flank. I won’t ask you to sweat the fine details of your battle plans, but do ensure that you obey my orders. If you should observe any change or anomaly in the tide of battle, be sure to report it. Even if you turn out to be mistaken, I won’t mind. I’m more afraid of overlooking something here. Also, even behind allied lines, you are to wait for orders from me before moving around the battlefield or pursuing our foes. For the time being, you are to remain on standby. Ladies and gentlemen, I pray for your good fortune in battle. That is all.”

Our commander, Lord Rear Admiral Melingz Areehenge, was a handsome fellow in glasses. He was sometimes even featured in fashion magazines.

I think I remember him being promoted as the “resourceful general.”

Incidentally, it was once rumored that at a certain event that would be run once during the summer and once at the end of each year, there was a certain book of sorts that was available. It was supposedly inspired by Kielect Erundibar, commander of the Imperial Guard, Commodore Salamas Tornchied, commander of the Seventh Fleet, and Melingz Areehenge, commander of the Eleventh Fleet. It was a book that would get someone in a lot of trouble if anyone found out about it.

The Eleventh and Twelfth Fleets joined the left flank of our forces, whereas the Imperial Guard, the First Fleet, and the Second Fleet made up the center.

Our right flank was made up of the reinforced Seventh and Eighth Fleets.

And, of course, we couldn’t fight an adequate battle without places to refuel and rest. To that end, those of us who had traveled the greatest distance were expected to refuel as a matter of priority.

It was during that time on standby that, near the center of our allied forces, the first sign of fire from the enemy was confirmed.

NPC No. 87: “Running scared, are we, you lowly mercenaries?! Let’s go! Show them just how valiant the men of the House of Viscount Mantas are! All ships, charge!”

It was during that time on standby that, near the center of our allied forces, the first sign of fire from the enemy was confirmed.

With that one spark, it took no time for fighting to break out in spots all across the front line.

We received the following order: “Mercenary forces, remain in your current formation. Advance now and engage the enemy in combat. Once you have inflicted some damage on the enemy, you are to change course and disengage the moment I give you my signal. After I give you that order, all ships that require refueling will head directly to base to refuel. All other ships are to follow and will only turn to head back to the front line when I give the signal. Commence your attack on the enemy’s vessels now.”

It looked like the commander intended to lure the enemy.

A lure, in this case, meant that we would strike them first. Then, as soon as the enemy began to retaliate, we would act spooked and withdraw. And when the enemy decided to press their advantage and pursue us, other forces in our fleet who had hitherto been lying in wait would fire on them. It was one of the tactics available in mass combat.

This tactic would require us to enrage the enemy and make them abandon reason. If we weren’t incredibly crafty when we attempted to draw them in, they wouldn’t bite.

But if we were dealing with simple opponents who were not well-versed in battlecraft, this was a different story.

Moreover, the Eleventh Fleet, the ones tasked with ambushing the enemy, apparently had their ships fitted with stealth systems. They would activate their cloaking devices and get into position while we mercenaries attacked the enemy.

In any case, we followed orders, advancing and commencing our assault on the enemy.

I saw numerous beams of light flash and crisscross in space. Some destroyed their targets while others glanced off barriers.

One beam raced past me—the shock wave from the resulting explosion rumbled to my rear.

When the order to change course arrived, it felt like hours had elapsed. In real time, it’d been no more than ten minutes.

Those of us who were running dangerously low on gas—or energy for propulsion, rather—disengaged in a hurry.

When the enemy commander saw this, he ordered his fleet to advance, almost as if to say, Running scared, are we, you lowly mercenaries?! Let’s go! Show them just how valiant the men of the House of Viscount Mantas are! All ships, charge!

Incidentally, since the rebel forces were all kind enough to fly flags bearing the crests of their respective houses, it was easy to tell which ships belonged to whom with a quick Net search. From both tactical and strategic perspectives, I had to wonder why they would give their opponents information like that. I was just thankful since it was entirely to our advantage.

But...the Eleventh Fleet also had the number of their fleet written on their flagship, so maybe our positions were more similar than I thought.

Regardless, once the fleet led by Viscount Mantas had left their allies behind in pursuit of our mercenary forces, our new orders came through from Lord Rear Admiral Melingz Areehenge, the commander of the Eleventh Fleet.

“Those imbeciles... All of you in the ambush force, commence your bombardment. Mercenaries, reverse course and fire on the enemy fleet. You need not pursue any ships that retreat! Avoid any friendly fire!”

Several hundred cannon fire beams raced across outer space. That display was followed by a series of ships exploding.

He said not to pursue any retreating ships, but who could get away under these circumstances?

After we casually annihilated the overextended enemy forces, our next order came.

“Those of us in the Eleventh Fleet will head for the breach we created in the enemy ranks. Mercenaries, once the first cohort is back from refueling, you are to take turns refueling back at base. Those who’ve traveled the farthest will go first. All returning ships are to rendezvous with the main body of ships.”

The mercenaries currently under the command of the Eleventh Fleet comprised members from five planets. Those of us with the Planet Ittsu branch—my group—were third in the resupply order.

Though the forward troops in the Eleventh Fleet had arrived before us, which gave them time to refuel earlier, I still felt kind of guilty watching them advance while we sat back and waited. But when I considered the risks of running out of gas, I realized that we had no choice but to sit and wait our turn to refuel.

It wasn’t long before the previous group returned from refueling and went to catch up with the Eleventh Fleet. After that, it was finally our turn to refuel, which we did in accordance with the instructions given to us by the flotilla guarding the tankers. Once we were finished, we also advanced in the direction of the Eleventh Fleet.

Under normal circumstances, we would’ve preferred for all of our forces to remain in a strict formation and engage with the enemy in perfect lockstep. However, in our present situation, each segment was reengaging in combat independently of the others. This made for quite a chaotic battlefield.

The fact that only one small segment of the rebel forces had decided to fire on us was the cause of all this.

One might think that would be an insignificant detail, but the truth was that a small thing like that could influence the tide of battle. That was what made war so frightening.

The rebel troops probably didn’t think it would turn out like this either, huh?

I bet Lord Rear Admiral Areehenge gave his orders while understanding the enemy all too well, though.

Once we caught up with the Eleventh Fleet, we returned to Rear Admiral Areehenge’s command and were pelted with one order after another.

“Fire on their right, fire on their left, fire up, fire down.”

Just following his orders allowed us to take out our enemies in relative safety. Even though a few of us took hits, none of us ended up as space dust.

That being said, being in active combat meant using up fuel and ammunition. The moment we ran out of resources, we would be free to join the ranks of everyone else who’d been blasted to space dust, but we managed to slip away from the enemy ranks just in the nick of time.

The other side was just as fatigued as we were and similarly low on supplies. Actually, no—they seemed to be even more fatigued since they made no attempt to come after us.

Once we had pulled back to a fairly safe zone, we received another order.

“All troops are to head directly to the resupply colony. Anyone who was hit should head to the maintenance colony instead. I expect our enemy will return to satellite orbit around the planet for the time being. Once you’re back at a colony, please remain on standby, ready to sortie, until you receive further orders.”

Approximately three hours had passed since the rebel forces’ sudden bombardment, and somehow, I’d managed to survive.

Of course, this battle was by no means over, so I couldn’t let my guard down yet.

Well, the fact that I’ve made it this far has a lot to do with Rear Admiral Areehenge.

It was like he’d taken every measure possible to avoid exhausting his allies.

But if the time ever comes where he needs to exhaust us, I bet he’ll show no mercy...

☆☆☆

Aside: Third-Person Perspective

Around the time that combat commenced in the Zon sector where Planet Gatohaga was located, a large fleet was on its way to rendezvous at Hain, the imperial homeworld.

These ships were headed there in spite of the fact that, at that time, the empire was under martial law, meaning that the movement of everyone besides regular soldiers, mercenaries, and the police was restricted. This situation applied equally to nobles and commoners.

This fleet was made up of private soldiers commanded by a faction of nobles, and they were all headed to the homeworld with a particular objective in mind.

What was this group’s goal? To capture the imperial ruler and take over the empire—and to secure all of the interests that came with that control. In other words, they were a detachment from the rebel forces.

One among them, Baron Orles Krumrefs, was under orders from Count Rebiltos Barlenton—to whose house he owed a debt of honor that went back more than seven generations. He was part of a large convoy of ships that included one heavy cruiser, four destroyers, and an assortment of unmanned gunships. He was also accompanied by private soldiers and members of his own family as he headed for the capital.

Planet Luba, the planet under his authority, was fairly remote, so it had cost him a great deal to come here. If it had been up to him, he would have preferred not to come, but since Count Rebiltos Barlenton had ordered it, he had no choice. The baron owed him a debt of honor that went back more than seven generations, after all. If he were to disobey the count, there was a chance that his own territory’s products and people would be stolen from him.

There were a lot of other people in the fleet who would have preferred not to come but were similarly entangled. Conversely, there were, without a doubt, many who were delighted at the opportunity to take part in this operation.

Two people were having a conversation in the captain’s quarters on the heavy cruiser.

“Dear, are you really going to take up arms against the empress?”

“I’ve no choice in the matter. I was ordered by Count Barlenton, to whom I am greatly indebted. Besides, if we succeed, our territory will surely also prosper...” said Orles Krumrefs, answering his wife Arelia’s question—and perhaps convincing himself as well.

When Arelia heard her husband’s answer, she laid her anger bare. “A debt, you say? That was 150 years ago. There’s a great deal of evidence that his house set that whole thing up too! And even if they didn’t, how many times has he used that as an excuse to make unreasonable demands of you?! Let us seek an audience with Her Majesty and petition her with all of those details! Knowing the current empress, I am sure she will hear what you have to say!” suggested Arelia, appearing quite agitated.

However, her husband, the baron, sighed heavily before speaking. “For a baron such as myself to receive an audience with the empress, I will first need to submit an application, pass a number of reviews, and then wait my turn,” he said with an air of resignation. “My house has tried that twice in the past. On the first of those occasions, my grandfather submitted his request, but it was unsuccessful. On the second, my predecessor ended up with the same result. And then, after he received that rejection letter, a number of unexplained disasters befell his territory. It was almost as if it had all been arranged...”

The baron’s wife gasped and was left dumbstruck as she finally realized the reason for those disasters that had occurred in the past.

At that moment, the imperial homeworld of Hain, the shining gem of the empire, became visible from the ship’s cockpit.

★★★

NPC No. 88: “Ergo, I am going to annihilate all of you—the true cause of our problems.”

The preliminary skirmish that had suddenly broken out came to an end. Our allied forces returned to the flotilla of colony ships, and we were able to have a rest.

That being said, we didn’t have the opportunity to really kick back on the colonies. Each group was expected to wait on standby in their ships after resupplying. Since we couldn’t predict an ambush or when an enemy detachment might show up, this level of caution was to be expected.

Similarly, the rebel forces had retreated to satellite orbit around Planet Gatohaga—they must have been resting as well.

I used my time away from battle to peruse the map I’d bought from Gonzales. I switched on the radar I’d just installed and compared it to my actual surroundings.

According to Gonzales’s map, there were fortress colonies sprinkled around the vicinity of Planet Gatohaga, likely because the sector was near the frontier of imperial space. They were all marked in meticulous detail, along with older, abandoned colonies that awaited demolition and the wrecks of spaceships.

While I was marveling at the work the cartographers had done, my radar picked up something in a location where nothing was marked on the map. I looked at the radar signal in more detail and found that about 1.8 billion kilometers away from Planet Gatohaga, there was something that resembled a mobile satellite fortress.

The fact that it wasn’t even on the map I’d obtained from Gonzales meant that either the military or government must have constructed it in strict secrecy, or someone else had built it without permission. When I considered that the Seventh Fleet had overlooked the structure even though they’d been patrolling the surrounding sector up until the conflict began, I figured it had to belong to the military.

There’s no way Rear Admiral Areehenge would miss something like that, so I guess there’s nothing to worry about. Still, to be safe, I’d better set up an alert to sound if anything happens over there.

Finally, six hours after our rest from combat began, we received the order to advance and rejoin the fray.

The rebel forces broke out of their orbit around Planet Gatohaga, and we prepared ourselves to intercept them.

Both forces began on directly opposite courses, with the distance between them gradually closing.

It was at this time that a transmission came through from the empress’s royal vessel to all of the ships allied with the imperial forces.

Her Majesty the Empress addressed us with an expression on her face both noble and beautiful. “Soldiers, you served well in that unexpected clash earlier. It was very fortunate that our losses were so few. The real battle is still ahead of us, however, and I pray for your good fortune. I am grateful to the commander of our navy, Admiral Breskin, for giving me, a novice in combat, his permission to issue this first order. In giving this order, I leave evidence that I raised my hand against my own citizens, unjust as their actions might have been. However, given that these cruel rebels have massacred innocent subjects and vassals of my empire, I have no choice but to punish them!”

While we listened to her address, we approached our enemy—the rebel army—and were now sufficiently close to engage them in combat.

“All troops, prepare your cannons. Your target is the enemy force in front of you... Fire!”

The moment we received the empress’s order, a shower of laser beams rained down upon the rebel army.

Of course, since they were aware of what was coming, they all activated their barriers, took evasive action, or returned fire. They attacked us while continuing to approach and taking basic defensive measures.

No doubt about it, looks like this’ll be like every other battlefield—this is familiar.

As I advanced from near the rear of our allied forces, I steered the nose of my ship down, little by little, descending so I could slip below the enemy formation. When it was just the right time for my allies to serve as cover, I accelerated and pulled away from the zone of engagement.

Now, since everyone had radar, my location could be discovered at the drop of a hat. But with everyone focused on the battle, they’d be susceptible to some degree of tunnel vision, and they would be particularly vulnerable to attacks from below their ships.

I was about to execute a tactic that would exploit that blind spot. Originally, this was a maneuver that’d been employed by combat pilots within a planet’s atmosphere, meaning in the air. It was also one of the more ill-advised maneuvers. But I’d made a few of my own tweaks to the technique so it’d be suitable for space combat.

This tactic involved dropping underneath an enemy ship formation and launching an attack from below after putting a certain distance between my ship and theirs. When I fired, I would ascend while describing a spiral in the space between us, allowing me to spread my attacks over a slightly wider area.

Since this tactic involved attacking the underbellies of enemies flying above, its name had been borrowed from artillery designed to fire on planetside aircraft. We called it the Antiaircraft Surprise Attack.

Essentially, you needed to pull out of the combat zone as soon as your surprise attack hit its mark. Then, after putting a certain amount of distance between yourself and the enemy, you were supposed to turn around and bombard them again.

There was also an advantage to utilizing this tactic in a mass combat operation.

If the surprise attack was successful, some of the targets were bound to get pissed off and come after you. When they did, they would, of course, render themselves defenseless against attacks from your allies. Even if the enemy did that just for a moment, the chances of them getting shot down would go up.

While this wouldn’t work against the same enemy squadron more than once, it would be effective at breaking up their formation.

And though anyone who knew about the Antiaircraft Surprise Attack might be able to see through it, most of the enemies would just think I was running away. There was even a possibility that my allies would see me and cry out, “Don’t run away, you coward!” They might even attempt to shoot me down.

The real trick to getting away with the maneuver was to wait until the moment before the battle turned into a melee—or once it already was—and then execute the move.

Luckily, none of my allies called me out this time as I made my move.

And luckier still, I managed to get underneath the enemy formation. As I did my upward spiral, I managed to shoot down three of their ships. Some of the enemies who came after me in a fury were sunk by my allies.

I’d already gotten some decent results since the opening of hostilities, but the battle was just getting started.

In order to make it through this, I was going to use all the methods available to me—even if people called me pathetic or cowardly.

They can call me whatever they like. When you’re dead, that’s it.

☆☆☆

Aside: Fialka Tielsad

About three hours had passed since the rebel forces had suddenly fired upon us, and so far, we had somehow managed to survive.

Though it was a great honor to be summoned to join Her Majesty’s Imperial Guard, there was one unpleasant thing about it.

Why do the soldiers always hit on me? They’ll do it whether we’re on standby or not. I struggle to understand them.

This had all started before the first opening of hostilities. The soldiers had made persistent and impolite advances not only toward me, but to other female mercenaries as well. The men had started by bragging about their social statuses before giving me a long lecture about how it would be such an honor for me to become their woman. On top of that, they’d kept asking if I’d be their bodyguard for the rest of the battle. It’d been so obvious that they were just looking for a meat shield.

I guess they expect me to believe they’ll make it worth my while—if I don’t die, that is.

Just when I was getting sick of that, one of the enemy ships let loose a beam.

And that beam just so happened to be headed straight for Her Majesty’s imperial flagship.

Oh, crap! ...is what everyone must have thought, but no one responded.

But in the very next instant, I saw the duo Federhelm throw up their barrier and block what would’ve been a direct attack on the empress.

If I’d been thinking clearly, I might have realized that the ship carrying Her Majesty surely would’ve put its barrier up the moment the beam was fired.

But not only did Federhelm respond when no one else seemed able to, they managed to position themselves to serve as a shield for the empress. Their level of skill was almost godlike.

Then, of course, since the enemy had just attacked us, we were supposed to retaliate, but some of our troops didn’t budge. We were Her Majesty’s personal guard—sure, we couldn’t afford for every one of us to charge, but these soldiers didn’t seem to feel any anxiety whatsoever. Two of the soldiers in question were fighter pilots from the Second Fleet who’d been hitting on women earlier.

After getting the order from the fleet’s commander, the mercenaries serving under the First Fleet engaged the enemy in combat themselves.

However, those fighter pilots from the Second Fleet seemed entirely unconcerned as the battle unfolded. They would not stop hitting on me.

“I’m in the middle of combat,” I said back to them and cut their transmissions. Then, I addressed my maid. “Shelley. I’d like you to screen all transmissions directed to me personally. Only let through those that seem absolutely necessary,” I requested.

“Understood, milady. Take care.”

Now I can concentrate on the battle without anyone bothering me.

In the meantime, Shelley had apparently reported my complaint to the Second Fleet, but they showed no signs of trying to stop the pilots. They only gave it a rest after we reported them to the First Fleet as well.

Do those idiots in the Second Fleet think this battle is only a demonstration? If so, I’d really like them to get with the program.

☆☆☆

Aside: Third-Person Perspective

The members of the rebel army—no, to use the name they gave themselves, the Revolutionary Army—were greatly enthused to see the imperial homeworld of Hain looming in space ahead of them. They were listening to an address from Count Rebiltos Barlenton, the representative of their detachment.

“Gentlemen! We are the legitimate aristocracy of this Galactic Empire! It falls upon us to pass divine judgment, for the crime of casting us aside, on that slip of a girl who currently sits on the throne—the one who tries to curry favor with commoners who should be viewed as mere resources! It falls upon us to reclaim the throne for the legitimate aristocracy!” cried Count Rebiltos Barlenton.

At this point in time, the count’s spirits were quite high, and his elation was understandable. He owned only a very ordinary territory—vast though it was—but in the event that this revolution succeeded, he stood to ascend to a higher peerage and possibly even gain some territory in the center of the empire.

Moreover, he had absolute confidence in the success of the revolution.

“In addition, we have one very dependable ally!” he exclaimed.

A hologram was then projected in the hall. The man being displayed was the younger brother of the emperor of two generations past, making him the previous emperor’s uncle and the current empress’s great-uncle. His name was Duke Altishult Bingil Orvorus.

“Gentlemen,” the duke began. “Thank you for gathering here today. All of you have been unsatisfied with the reign of the present empress, Amilia Frannodol Orvarus—who is also my nephew’s daughter. I understand that you are distressed by the current state of the empire. I welcome you all.”

At these words from the duke, all of the legitimate aristocrats, including Count Barlenton, erupted with approval.

The duke continued. “Since time immemorial, it has simply been common sense that the citizens and colonized peoples of the empire should work diligently, respect those of higher status, and gladly dedicate the fruits of their labor to their superiors. However, in our present, this is not taking place. Yes, I think that these problems can all be laid at the feet of the empress—her many ill-considered policies have caused this. And I have no hesitation in ridding the empire of the cause of the problem or its many manifestations.”

As the duke raised his hand, the fleets comprising the Central Fleet who had stayed behind near the imperial homeworld of Hain—the Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Ninth Fleets—appeared behind the revolutionaries’ convoy.

A cheer went up among the nobles when this sight greeted them. If their ally, the duke, had this many divisions of the Central Fleet under his command? Their revolution was sure to succeed.

However, the duke’s following words instantly froze the triumphant looks on their faces.

“Ergo, I am going to annihilate all of you—the true cause of our problems.”

At that moment, alarms sounded on all ships under the command of the Revolutionary Army.

NPC No. 89: “Good grief. At least we’ve saved ourselves the trouble of one trial. Now, then. What about the rest of you? We would be grateful if you could save us the trouble of any more trials.”

☆☆☆

Aside: Third-Person Perspective, Continued

When he heard the duke’s words, a look of astonishment fell over Count Rebiltos Barlenton’s face.

Earlier, Marquess Vastorg had told him, “Since we have the duke on our side, our reforms are sure to succeed.” Since that’d been the case, he could not understand why the duke was looking at him so coldly at this point.

“Your Grace! What is the meaning of this?! We counted you as a supporter! No, as our leader!” cried Barlenton without thinking.

The duke responded coolly, “When I heard what your leader, Marquess Fildeld Vastorg, had to say, I did indeed tell him that your situation seemed grave. But what I meant was that there are far too many men like you. Men whose ways of thinking could only obstruct progress in our empire and whose actions can only cause its power to diminish. I never thought of myself as your leader, and I never gave you any guidance either. Meanwhile, you went along with everything Marquess Fildeld Vastorg told you and came here together with all your military strength. Your only goal was to remove your current ruler and claim more power for yourselves.”

Count Barlenton trembled—that was all he could do in response to the duke’s answer.

In the end, it was Count Scad—a younger noble, seemingly in his late twenties and who had shared Count Barlenton’s ambitions—who boldly attempted to refute the duke’s claims.

“But we’ve become unable to maintain a lifestyle befitting the nobility, don’t you see that?!” he yelled back. “The contributions we receive from our people in taxes have been decreasing month after month, and some of them have even dared to flee our territories when our backs are turned! My lord, you said as much yourself! ‘Since time immemorial, it has simply been common sense that the citizens and colonized peoples of the empire should work diligently, respect those of higher status, and gladly dedicate the fruits of their labor to their superiors,’ you said! Do you really mean to deny what you just said yourself?”

Scad looked at the duke with a look on his face that implied the young count had thought he’d got the better of him.

But someone other than the duke answered instead.

“Don’t get carried away when you haven’t even understood the meaning of what Duke Orvarus said, you brat!”

A man with a bushy beard and a dignified face appeared on the hologram display—it was Lieutenant General Sawlock Mauston, the commander of the Planetary Defense Force.

He continued. “It does go without saying that the subjects of this empire should work diligently, respect those who govern them, and pay an appropriate amount of taxes. But if we make it so that our citizens can live prosperously and safely enough that they are able to pay those taxes, then they will naturally respect those who govern them! However, not only have you failed to make the lives of your citizens prosperous, you have drained them of all their wealth, simply to feather your own nests. You also see no folly in killing your own people over the slightest whim! Who could respect a lord who behaves like that?! When I look at you, I merely see a swarm of pests! You’re like mosquitoes, sucking the blood of living people!” bellowed Lieutenant General Mauston, openly incensed by Count Scad and the rest of the rebel army.

The duke then interjected with a tranquil expression on his face in stark contrast to Lieutenant General Mauston.

“Sawlock, what you just said was disrespectful. A mosquito’s staple diet consists of the nectar of flowers and fruit juice—it is only the females who are about to lay eggs who suck blood. Moreover, we have them to thank for driving away some more dangerous species, and there are other creatures still that prey on them. Mosquitoes play their own roles in upholding the balance of the food chain. They’re nothing like the men before you who have failed to play their own roles in society and instead choose to subsist on the blood, sweat, and tears of other people around the clock.”

The duke chided Lieutenant General Mauston, his friend of many years, for drawing an analogy between the rebels and mosquitoes.

“I see. I suppose that was disrespectful of me. Looks like I’ll have to apologize to mosquitoes later.”

But the duke had even more to say.

“However. I’m sure there are some among you who came here against your own better judgment simply because you were unable to defy a noble with a higher ranking than yourself. If that applies to you, I am addressing you directly: Raise the white flag of surrender immediately and issue an order to all the ships under your command to stop their engines. If you do this, I can promise you clemency. There is no need for you to obey orders from people who have always exploited you and forced you to do things against your wishes. Prove to me now that you are not lower than mosquitoes.”

The duke’s announcement led roughly sixty percent of the rebellion army to turn off their ships’ engines and surrender.

“Hmph. It looks like quite a lot of you came here reluctantly,” said the duke, stroking his chin with a look of satisfaction.

When he realized that the impoverished lesser nobles who’d served as his minions had betrayed him, Count Barlenton looked on with an expression of astonishment before falling to his knees.

However, there was one person who reacted in a very different way, showing open anger instead.

“Let’s cast aside these traitors! They haven’t a shred of loyalty and were weak enough to succumb to cowardice! However, they can still serve as our shields! There’s nothing standing in our way either! We shall advance and bombard the imperial homeworld of Hain!”

With that, the young noble Count Scad issued an order to his subordinates to advance. An audacious grin spread across his lips.

His fleet started to move. But just as their gun turrets moved to lock on to their targets, a series of small explosions erupted throughout the count’s flagship, followed by one final, massive explosion on the ship’s bridge. On the display screens of the ships around him, the young count could be seen letting out one last scream before vanishing.

The sight left such an impact that no one else in the rebel army noticed two light battlecraft—one red, one blue—racing away from what had been the ship. Its wreckage was now nothing more than a colossal piece of space debris.

“Good grief. At least we’ve saved ourselves the trouble of one trial,” the duke commented. “Now, then. What about the rest of you? We would be grateful if you could save us the trouble of any more trials.”

With a calm expression that’d have been just as fitting were he ordering another cup of tea, the duke awaited a reply from the remaining nobles—the nobles who “sought to take back the throne for the legitimate aristocracy.”

“I... I surrender,” muttered Count Barlenton, still on his knees.

The rest of the rebel army obediently followed suit.

★★★

About an hour had passed since combat had resumed for us mercenaries.

To be perfectly frank, the morale of the rebel army didn’t seem that high. As one might expect from people who mistakenly equated status with ability and watched eagerly for the opportunity to take credit for the accomplishments of others, their attacks were pretty feeble.

It was worth mentioning that part of their navy seemed to be sitting and waiting for something, though. But even so, there was no doubt that we were pushing them back. As long as we held the line, there was no chance of us losing.

But, that being said, we still can’t let our guards down. I still need to be careful here. I can’t just slack off.

Of course, Lord Rear Admiral Areehenge understood this too. He showed no signs of letting his guard down as he continued to issue orders to the mercenaries and soldiers under his command.

If this were a light novel or whatever, something would be bound to go wrong right about now...but nothing like that happens in reality.

But then, I remembered the saying “every rose has its thorn.”

Though I knew that I hadn’t made it happen just by thinking about it, it was at that moment that an alarm sounded in my ship. That alert told me that a structure 1.8 billion kilometers away from Planet Gatohaga—the one that looked like a mobile satellite fortress—had started to move.

NPC No. 90: “Damn those Nekirelman cowards! How dare they ignore our agreement?! And as for that Barlenton, he’d assured me he had everything in hand, but he sure turned out to be useless!”

Before I had the chance to transmit the details of my radar system’s alert to Lord Rear Admiral Areehenge, a broadcast transmission from the rebel army came through on my open channel.

“Ha ha ha! Our reinforcements have finally arrived! They’ve taken over a mobile fortress that was still under construction, and now they’ll hurl it at you like a lance!”

Marquess Fildeld Vastorg appeared on-screen with a truly cheerful expression on his face. He sneered at all of us, as if he were sure of his own victory.

Don’t tell me the rear admiral overlooked this?

Well, I guess things happen on the battlefield that beggar belief. Even someone as high up as the rear admiral might not notice something like that.

Are we screwed?

At the same time that I was preparing myself for the worst, something came from the direction of the mobile fortress, just as the marquess had claimed.

However, something strange happened. While Marquess Vastorg’s announcement had primed me to expect a mobile fortress, what actually came to the battlefield was a convoy of ships. The triumphant marquess didn’t seem to notice the difference.

Then, from the direction of that convoy, there came a shower of beam fire—directed at the rebel forces.

Marquess Vastorg’s confident expression was immediately wiped off his face and replaced by one of shock and panic. “Wh-What the devil?! Why are our reinforcements firing on us?!”

A moment later, Commodore Tornchied—commander of the Seventh Fleet—appeared on my screen.

“What a shame, Marquess Vastorg. I’ve just received a report from my fleet’s scouting detachment saying that the reinforcements you were expecting are in the middle of their retreat. I think they must have seen that you gentlemen were on the back foot and chickened out. Of course, I can hardly let them get away, so I’ve given the order to annihilate them. Oh, and one more thing—the detachment you sent to attack the imperial homeworld of Hain has been wiped out by Duke Orvarus!”

After this report from Commodore Tornchied, our allies perked up, and our enemies started to look disheartened.

“Damn those Nekirelman cowards! How dare they ignore our agreement?! And as for that Barlenton, he assured me he had everything in hand, but he sure turned out to be useless!”

In his fit of anger, Marquess Vastorg accidentally let it slip that he’d been collaborating with the Kingdom of Planet Nekirelma all along.

Putting all that back-and-forth between the higher-ups to one side, I was shocked by the scene playing out in front of me.

Among the shower of fire coming from the convoy was an incredibly wide crimson beam. While the other beams were only powerful enough to inflict tiny explosions on the hulls of battleships, this one pierced straight through them without difficulty, sinking multiple ships.

I was initially amazed to see the craft behind this weapon, but then it all made sense.

“Oh...? That’s Gerhilde, isn’t it...? Come to think of it, she did say she wanted to see Rossweisse, but...what has she been up to?”

As a matter of fact, for the purposes of this battle, not only were the King-rank mercenaries assigned to the empress’s personal guard—obviously—but so were a number of other mercs I knew. That included the two duos of Lambert and Rossweisse and Arthur and Seira.

General Kielect Erundibar, the commander of the imperial guard, not only knew Rossweisse but her record in battle as well. Regardless of whether or not he believed her to be an ancient superweapon, it was natural for him to want to put her to use.

What was happening now was a nightmare for the rebel forces.

After Gerhilde’s wide, crimson-colored beam had obliterated a few dozen enemy ships, the rest of them lost the will to fight and quickly surrendered. The battle was won less than two hours after Gerhilde had arrived on the battlefield.

Now, all that was left was to apprehend the surrendering soldiers—a task which the mercenaries and soldiers all carried out together.

Incidentally, Marquess Vastorg—the mastermind behind the rebellion—attempted to disguise himself as a soldier and slip away with his entourage. However, he and his men were all apprehended by soldiers he thought were his allies.

When the remaining members of the rebel army had all been arrested, we mercenaries were all granted permission to refuel on one of the colonies before taking twelve hours of R&R. The soldiers were tasked with escorting the prisoners back to the capital.

Serving the imperial court sure sounds tough... Good job, guys.

Back at the colony, everyone was so intoxicated by our victory that they very quickly started making a stupid commotion. So, after refueling and doing a maintenance check on my ship, I bought what provisions I could and used the provided bathing facilities before returning to my ship to get some sleep.

However, just when I’d finished eating and was about to get some shut-eye, I received a transmission from Rossweisse.

“Ah, who is it?”

Rossweisse appeared on my holographic display. She looked kind of tired. “It’s been quite some time, Captain Ouzos. May I borrow you for one moment?”

“Could this possibly be about Gerhilde?”

“So it was you who told my elder sister where I was?” Rossweisse sighed heavily.

Come to think of it, I never told Gerhilde my name, did I?

“Ahhh... Was that wrong?”

“No. In fact, she’s a very doting person—ship, rather—and I was happy to see her after so many years.”

If she was happy, it was kind of a mystery as to why she was sighing, but I decided to ask my questions anyway.

“Still, Gerhilde was amazing today. Can you fire a wide, crimson beam like that too, Rossweisse? I’ve never seen you use something like it before.”

“Crimson...? Ah, you mean the Prominence Arrow? I am not equipped with that weapon.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“If I had to describe the role my elder sister was built for, I would describe her as an ambush battlecraft meant for intercepting enemy ships when they come to attack an allied base. I show up in battle later than her as I’m an espionage and electronic warfare ship, but I don’t measure up to Gerhilde at all in terms of firepower. As sisters, we have different roles, and the sizes of our ships also differ. Among our other sisters, there is an anti-battlecraft ship, an anti-warship ship, an anti-fortress ship, and a transport ship, as well as fueling and maintenance craft. One of us even has anti-planetary armaments. By the way, that crimson beam—the Prominence Arrow—is an anti-battlecraft weapon.”

Rossweisse’s response had left me speechless.

I had been able to infer from Rossweisse’s code name—WVS-09—that she must have had other sisters, and I had noticed that Gerhilde’s ship was larger than Rossweisse’s as well. I understood that there was a range of sisters among the sister ships; I had just assumed that they had more or less the same fundamental specs.

But Rossweisse is an espionage and electronic warfare craft, whereas Gerhilde is an ambush fighter craft?

But if Rossweisse is invincible in this day and age despite being specialized in espionage and electronic warfare...what does that mean for Gerhilde?! Just trying to imagine her power makes me shudder!

Then, I realized something and posed another question.

“But Rossweisse, if you’re a craft meant to carry out electronic warfare, why don’t you use those abilities? I feel like you could do some incredible things.”

Right, if that’s what this ancient superweapon was built for, she should be able to take control of enemy ships with ease.

“Good question. I suppose I could hack any enemy or allied ship I encountered from this era and take control of all of them. But is there any need for me to do so? With an opposing force like the one we just faced, even I could annihilate them all by myself without so much as a scratch, you know? It just might take me a while. When Gerhilde was firing her Prominence Arrow earlier, though she took care not to hit us, apart from that, she wasn’t worried about her aim.”

To my surprise, Rossweisse’s answer seemed to imply, Why would you even ask me that?

Exactly how nuts was the era in which Rossweisse and her sisters were built?!

I really have to hand it to Lambert for not holding any crazy ambitions and managing to maintain a stable partnership with Rossweisse! That’s a protagonist for you!

“Forget that—please listen to what I have to say!” Rossweisse then said, changing course. “I thought soldiers would be better at upholding some kind of standard, but one man after another made so many comments to me. ‘Become my subordinate.’ ‘Be my lover.’ ‘Be my mistress!’ And that’s not all! It would be one thing if they kept that sort of nonsense to break times, but anyone who says that sort of thing in the middle of combat needs his head checked! We might not have been moving around much because we were in the royal guard, but still...!”

“How did Lambert handle all that?”

“He rejected quite a few of them—a few dozen of them, even—on my behalf. But while he was doing that, he started getting approached by a lot more female soldiers himself. He was so exhausted from all that he collapsed on his bed as soon as the army left.”

“Sounds like quite the ordeal...”

I guess Lambert is a pretty handsome guy... He would be a target.

“And then that sly vixen showed up...”

At that moment, I realized something.

This is going to be a long story...

But even if I end the transmission here, she’ll just force another transmission through my channel. She won’t let me get away...

NPC No. 91: “Welcome... Oh, it’s you. I’m guessing you didn’t get to meet the shady prime minister from that neighboring country or any of his friends’ warships.”

Rossweisse told me that Gerhilde was pleased to hear that she had found a partner in Lambert.

She also told me that Gerhilde had declared that she was going to look for a partner of her own, and once she found one, she would bring that partner the next time they met on the battlefield.

She then told me that Lambert had matured a great deal, that he no longer fainted in battle. He’d become a much stronger combatant.

Furthermore, she even told me that she hadn’t brought her bioroid avatar on this mission, citing budgetary concerns.

Besides her complaints, I thought this was fairly useful information, but thanks to her long-windedness, a full four hours of my time for sleeping had gone out the window. Since I’d already used up two hours to refuel, check my ship, bathe, and buy food and drinks, I only had six hours of R&R left.

Even having six hours to sleep was better than not getting any, though, so I went straight to bed as soon as my transmission with Rossweisse ended.

When I awoke, it was nearly time for me to leave the colony.

Since it was dangerous to fly right after waking up, and as I always preferred to avoid flying in congested space, I first waited for everyone else to leave. I was the last to depart, and I set a course straight for my home on Ittsu.

That being said, thanks to the lack of availability of gates in the opposite direction, the return trip took me more than twice as long as the trip to the battlefield.

I’d used up two entire days since setting off, and on the afternoon of the third day, I finally made it back to the Mercenaries Guild on Planet Ittsu safely.

Though part of me wanted to head straight home, I still had to pay Old Man Lohnes, so I headed to the guild’s reception lobby.

In the lobby, I saw Lambert of the Federhelm duo, as well as Arthur—he’d just been elevated to Knight rank. The whole guild branch had turned out to give them a heroes’ welcome.

Though they’d been confined to the empress’s personal guard, they were still mercenaries, so it wasn’t like they’d gone the whole mission without seeing combat. It actually sounded like they’d both put up some pretty impressive results.

Of course, they weren’t the only ones who’d done a great job. Rossweisse, Seira, Tielsad, and a number of other mercenaries had also performed well, but today’s reception gave particular attention to these two men.

I avoided this hubbub and walked straight to Old Man Lohnes’s window.

“I’m back.”

“I’m just glad you aren’t welching on our deal,” said Lohnes with a grin as we bumped fists. “Your pay’s already come through. Looks like every mercenary got paid a flat rate of five million credits.”

“That was quick, and generous too. I was sure they’d be stingy about the rate and hesitant about paying it to boot.”

Back when we took out those terrorists on Planet Teura, Count Icolai sure paid up quick. But, though he didn’t take part in this rebellion, when I think of how many nobles just as disreputable as him are in the army and the government, I thought it would be par for the course for them to either grumble about paying or at least be stingy about how much.

“They said it was thanks to Her Majesty’s consideration.”

“Well, I sure am grateful,” I replied.

Even if her generosity was all in service of drumming up more support, her thoughtfulness toward her subjects was one of the reasons our current ruler had such a high approval rating.

While I was pondering this, I chose to receive 300,000 credits of my pay in hard cash and the rest in data money. Then, I took 100,000 credits from my cash payment and handed it to Old Man Lohnes.

“Here you go. This is for the map.”

“And I’m glad to get it. Now I can finally buy that sportswear my daughter’s been wanting as a present!” said Lohnes as he cheerfully stuffed the cash in his pocket. “Did it come in handy?”

“Something did turn up on the map, but I didn’t get a chance to capitalize on it.”

“I see. Then I’m sorry to have to make you part with your money,” said Lohnes, though he still looked pretty cheerful. Then, he glanced at the crowd behind us. “Oh, yeah. Y’know Lambert, Arthur, and Tielsad? I hear they’ve all been invited to a reception hosted by Her Majesty, though it’s not happening for a while.”

“Man, what a pain in the ass!” I exclaimed. I just knew that Rossweisse and Seira would be furious about having to attend.

“So, what’s next for you?” asked Lohnes.

“I’d like to head straight home and sleep, but I’ve got one place I want to stop first. But I’m going straight home after that. I guess I’ll take some time off starting tomorrow.”

Now that I’d finished my business with Lohnes and we’d chatted, I continued to ignore the commotion inside the guild and left the building.

First of all, I went to the bank and transferred a third of my pay—1.7 million credits—to my parents. In exact terms, one-third would have been 1.66 (recurring) million, so I rounded that up and gave them 1.7 million.

Now that the rebellion had been stamped out, the control on information and curfew enforced under martial law had been lifted in town. Cheers of celebration could be heard on the streets—rejoicing that so many rotten nobles had been arrested. There were also digital displays and posters everywhere praising the empress.

Though the Black Market Shopping District was no exception, its slogans were a little different. “Let us sing the praises of our divine empress, bearer of the greatest treasures of the deep sea!” was one such suspicious slogan. “Let us drain our own veins for our imperial empress, who is already soaked in blood after passing judgment on her enemies!” read another.

Even the butcher had a few new posters up. “Feast today to mark the conviction of the foolish conspirators” was their slogan announcing some new offerings. “Scions of Winged Dragons Plunged into the Greasy Mire, then Forced to Crawl on the Ground, with Prisoners Bound at the Bottom of the Ocean” was one such item. The other variety on offer was “Scions of Winged Dragons Plunged into the Greasy Mire, then Forced to Crawl on the Ground, with Others Drowned in the Tears of the Proteans Who Run Rampant on the Earth.” These two options were both going for fifty credits for two hundred grams. Since a new batch had just come out of the fryer, I impulsively purchased four hundred grams of “Scions of Winged Dragons Plunged into the Greasy Mire, then Forced to Crawl on the Ground, with Prisoners Bound at the Bottom of the Ocean.”

Besides the butcher’s shop, there was also a store selling ready-made meals with names like “Mandrake Salad” and “Fall-Apart Orc Meat Stew.” Both were advertised as being available for a limited time only. A nearby grocer was advertising a “Special Discount on Jack-o’-Lanterns” and “Twenty Percent off Golden Apples and Doughnut Peaches!” A flyer posted outside a liquor store read “New Varieties of Nectar in Stock!”

While enjoying the distinctive racket of the Black Market Shopping District, I headed to Pattson’s Pharmacy.

I was greeted by the sight of Gonzales reading a newspaper, like always.

“Hey,” I said, casually entering the pharmacy like I always did.

“Welcome... Oh, it’s you. I’m guessing you didn’t get to meet the shady prime minister from that neighboring country or any of his friends’ warships.”

“He did show up on the battlefield, but I heard he ran away as soon as he found out the Revenant was there.”

Without asking permission, I pulled up a chair and sat down at the counter opposite Gonzales.

“Is it thanks to the Revenant that you’re not dead?”

“I think I have the Eleventh Fleet to thank for that too,” I said. “I was left in their care.”

This was a typical conversation for us.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“I’d like my usual order of lozenges. And I’d like to give you something for the map you gave me. I got some good info out of it, though I didn’t get to capitalize on it.”

“I see,” said Gonzales as he arranged my lozenges on the counter. “But if you want to thank me, just bring me a snack.”

I placed the “Scions of Winged Dragons Plunged into the Greasy Mire, then Forced to Crawl on the Ground, with Prisoners Bound at the Bottom of the Ocean” I’d just bought on the counter.

“That’s from Alowan’s Monster Meat Emporium, right?”

“It was straight out of the fryer. I couldn’t resist...”

Gonzales took two carbonated beverages out of his fridge and handed one to me, so I opened the container for the “Scions of Winged Dragons Plunged into the Greasy Mire, then Forced to Crawl on the Ground, with Prisoners Bound at the Bottom of the Ocean.” They were still warm, of course, and a plume of steam escaped the container.

We both twisted off the caps on our drinks and shared a silent toast. Since they were plastic bottles, they didn’t make that satisfying clink.

Incidentally, three months later, I learned the fates of the people who had taken part in the rebellion.

Commoners who had been forcibly conscripted by the rebels were ordered to pay a fine of twelve million credits or else face a maximum prison sentence of two years. Commoners who had taken part willingly were sentenced to a minimum of five years’ hard labor, with additional penalties applied in individual cases.

Nobles who had been coerced into taking part in the uprising were ordered to pay a fine of 540 million credits or else face a sentence of up to five years’ hard labor.

Nobles who had participated of their own volition were all stripped of their titles and territory and given at least ten years’ hard labor. The death penalty also applied in some cases.

Finally, the ringleaders all lost their titles and territory and faced public execution.

Such was the judgment passed on the rebels. Some of the nobles had tried to appeal, but their requests had been rejected.

NPC No. 92: “It’s fine, I won’t be working for a while. You might think this sounds funny coming from a merc, but combat and search-and-destroy missions really wear me out. It’s the same for you, isn’t it?”

It was still my first day back on Planet Ittsu.

After my little post-mission party with Gonzales, I went straight home.

Though I was always tired after a mission, it was the “battles” between groups of nobles—or similar power struggles, like missions where I had to help take down foreign armies or insurgents—that tired me out the most. As you might expect, I instantly fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, it was already 10 a.m. I decided I’d go out for lunch that day, but I wanted to get some laundry done first.

That being said, all I had to do was toss my laundry into a washer-dryer unit that automated everything. It even separated whites and colors.

If you had one of these machines, all you had to do was throw your clothes inside. Among the very latest models, however, there were even units that could give you your clothes back already folded. I’d decided not to buy one, though—they were expensive.

While the laundry was in progress, I cleaned my apartment, though all I did was suck up the dust that’d accumulated with my vacuum cleaner before wiping down all the surfaces. I did a first pass with a damp cloth and followed up with a dry one.

Once my laundry was washed and dried, I folded everything and stuffed it in my closet.

With all my housework complete, I changed and went out for lunch. I only ever went to fast-food joints and restaurants with cheap set menus and had no intention of going anywhere trendy.

I was planning to take it easy for the next five or six days, so I figured I’d buy some groceries to last me that long while I was out.

And thus my first day back ended with me getting lunch and doing my grocery shopping without any drama.

From the next day onward, I stayed up every night enjoying some anime, playing games, reading light novels, and surfing the Net.

It was a very fulfilling couple of days. In Creature Hunters: Breath Star Breaker, I spent some time hunting for loot and leveling my character. I also binged the fourth season of The Somehow Mysterious Summoner’s Ring anime. As for reading, I had a stack of the novelization of Maidens in the Annals of War that I finally got around to.

The morning of the fifth day came, which was also the release date for the latest volume of Assassin Family.

I’d gone to sleep at midnight the previous night and woke up at five thirty in the morning.

Though I could have just gone back to sleep until my local bookstore or Animember opened for the day, I was feeling sticky and gross, and I thought it might be nice to relax in a spacious bath for the first time in a while. I immediately got ready to go out and headed for one of the twenty-four-hour spas.

This large-scale spa called Relaxation Health Land not only had baths but also estheticians, restaurants, and a range of other entertainment facilities and accommodations. It was pretty amazing that they managed to operate twenty-four hours a day.

I took a huge bag with me that had a change of clothes and bath towels inside. I also brought along a backpack to carry back the new manga volume I wanted to buy. Once I was ready, I headed to the spa.

The main hall at the entrance to Relaxation Health Land was pretty spacious with a high ceiling, so visiting it actually felt quite liberating. Overall, the building’s interior was clean and brightly lit. There were a lot of elderly men and women there—partially due to the fact that it was early morning—but there were also a few families.

I bought a ticket for the spa and took it to the counter.

Incidentally, the spa went to the trouble of printing tickets on plastipaper. Since they put out new designs every month, there were apparently even some people who collected them.

Once my ticket was checked at the counter, I was given a key to use one of the shoe lockers. I found the locker that matched the number on the key, stowed my shoes inside, and finally stepped into the changing room.

My bags and clothes went into another numbered locker. I locked it and then entered the bathing area with nothing but a towel. After splashing myself with hot water and giving my body a wash, I stepped into a spacious bathtub at last.

“Ahhh...”

Though I had a bath at home—and even the shower in my ship was pretty refreshing—there was nothing quite as liberating as this.

While I was making the most of that moment of bliss, I was interrupted.

“Oh? Is that you, champ?” came a familiar voice.

“I know you... Hey, you don’t look so good. You okay?” I asked.

“I had a little too much to drink yesterday, so I’m totally hungover. I came here to sweat out the alcohol.”

“You can’t sweat alcohol out in the bath...”

I was chatting with Bernard Zug, a merc and former police officer who was several years my senior. As one might expect from a former cop, he was pretty muscular and looked a little younger than his years.

“Ahhh... Now this is what I call a bath. The first beer I’m gonna have after getting out is gonna taste great!”

“Didn’t you already have too much to drink yesterday?”

“It’s fine, I won’t be working for a while,” he countered. “You might think this sounds funny coming from a merc, but combat and search-and-destroy missions really wear me out. It’s the same for you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Sure, escort and security missions don’t pay as much, but they’re way less stressful.”

Unless you were pretty bloodthirsty, really strapped for cash, short on combat hours, or you treated flying around the battlefield like a game... Basically, unless you were one of those people, most mercenaries took a few days off after a combat or search-and-destroy mission. It was just that tiring to fight on a battlefield.

“I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more pirates for a while...”

“Well, the rebels’ proteges and heirs will be falling on hard times...” I replied.

“Those jobs are still more easygoing than war, though. Now tell me, what do you have planned for today? I know a place nearby that serves alcohol in the morning, so I was thinking of going there.”

“I planned to do some shopping today. I’ll probably go do that after eating breakfast here.”

Our conversation fizzled out there.

I didn’t get that many opportunities to talk with Bernard, but I felt our relationship was just right the way it was.

After about five minutes of soaking silently in the tub, I said, “Well, I really must be going now.”

“All right. I’ll see you around at work.”

Following this brief exchange of pleasantries, I exited the spa.

I intended to go to one of the restaurants inside the building via the lobby after my bath, but once I got there, I spotted someone I knew arguing with one of the large-scale spa’s female employees.

“I’m begging you, please fasten it properly!”

“It’ll be too tight if I do.”

There was only one woman—I guess?—I knew who was 180 centimeters tall with black, upturned eyes with a sharp glint in them and black hair that went down her back.

It was always risky for me to approach a beauty like her, but there was something I just had to ask her.

“Gerhilde, is that you?!” I began. “What are you...?”

But, without finishing my sentence, I quickly glanced to one side.

Among the many amenities offered by Relaxation Health Land were free rental bathrobes. As long as you had one of their robes on, you were allowed to go anywhere within the building.

The designs were cute and female customers loved them, but there was just one downside to them: They came undone extremely easily.

Though Gerhilde was wearing a bathrobe, it had already slipped away from her chest almost to the point of revealing everything. The sash was fastened around her waist, but it was just barely remaining tied. Her left leg was almost completely exposed all the way to her hip. She looked just like a character from REAPER, a popular manga from a little while ago. The character in question had been in many sexy scenes.

Gerhilde responded to me without a care in the world about her sartorial situation. “You are... Ah, you were the human who found my hangar. Thanks to the map you gave me, I managed to find my kid sister. You have my thanks.”

Every time she moves, I see a little more. Gimme a break.

A cheer went up from the dads and grandpas in the lobby while the women pinched and punched their husbands for drooling at Gerhilde. Still others looked shocked, frowned, and whispered to each other. There were also some customers who just tutted at her for some reason.

The still-frantic female employee somehow managed to fix Gerhilde’s bathrobe.

What a nice lady...

When she was done fixing Gerhilde’s robe, the employee gave her a short lecture before walking away. That gave me an opportunity to speak with Gerhilde again.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Well, my avatar is a bioroid. In order to keep it clean, it is absolutely necessary for me to take baths and imbibe organic compounds, though at least I don’t excrete.”

I had meant to ask why she was on Planet Ittsu, but she’d ended up telling me why she was at the spa.

In that case...

“You fought alongside the army in the most recent war. Did you have a reason for doing that?” I asked her point-blank.

She answered more readily than I’d expected. “The truth is that, like my kid sister, I found myself a partner. Through that human’s connections, I found myself temporarily in a position to collaborate with the military. I think they called our group a ‘detachment.’ Well, it’s not like I’d go anywhere unless I felt like it,” she told me.

This was also true of Rossweisse, but it seemed to me like these sentient, ancient superweapons weren’t really concerned with human mindsets.

When I was about to ask just who her partner was, she added, “That reminds me, have you imbibed your organic compounds yet?”

“Organic compounds... Ah, you mean breakfast? No, though I was about to.”

“In that case, come with me. My partner says that organic compounds are best imbibed in a group.”

Does she mean what I think she means? About how food tastes best when eaten together?

I was scared of how her mood might change if I turned her down, so I quietly went along with her.

The restaurant was serving an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. We found ourselves a table first, and then I went and grabbed some coffee, toast, butter, ham, eggs, a salad, and milk—the usual suspects—and returned to our table.

Then, Gerhilde said, “Oh? You have a good balance of nutrients in your organic compounds. Balancing your nutrients is indeed important.”

Despite saying that, she had brought back a jaw-dropping selection of her own. She began to point them out to me.

“Carbohydrates. I guess you’d call them ‘carbs.’”

Six slices of bread—also known as an entire loaf.

“Protein.”

Twenty slices of roast beef. No sauce.

“Lipids.”

Ten packets of butter (five grams apiece).

“Vitamins.”

A fresh vegetable salad (no dressing) and a dish with sliced fruit piled high on it.

“Minerals. I guess you could call them inorganic compounds.”

Those came in the form of two medium-sized beer glasses filled with milk.

“My partner keeps telling me off, telling me I can’t eat like this, even though the nutritional balance is perfect,” she said.

I had a lot of criticisms of my own, particularly about the amount of each item and the lack of flavor. But despite her lack of any facial expression, I couldn’t help but get the impression that she was proud of her selections. Or maybe she just wasn’t satisfied with my reaction.

I decided to agree with her. “True, you look like you have the perfect balance of nutrients there,” I said.

I seemed to remember Rossweisse only ordering sweet things when we had eaten together. Each sister must have had her own preferences when it came to food.

In the middle of our meal, I managed to ask her who her partner was.

“When we signed our contract together, I was told not to mention any names” was her curt reply. She wouldn’t give an inch.

We didn’t exactly get anywhere after that. It was a silent breakfast.

Now that I’d taken a bath and shared breakfast with Gerhilde in the spa’s restaurant, I headed to the downtown shopping district where Animember was.

The area in question was just off the sixty-fifth block along the town’s main street. This block was packed with trendy cafés, trendy bookstores, trendy bars and restaurants, boutiques, cosmetics stores, and jewelry shops. It was also swimming with shoppers.

After slipping past them, I arrived at the Mashimoto Building and made my way inside to Animember. When I reached the book section, I grabbed the latest volume of Assassin Family first before purchasing the latest volumes of Corinna Isn’t Good with Words and The Escapist Princess. I’d been forgetting to pick up those two. Then, I browsed for a while without looking for anything in particular.

While I was taking my time there, I suddenly felt like someone was staring at me. I looked for the origin of the gaze and found it immediately.

Two girls, roughly high-school-aged, were brazenly glaring at me.

I honestly didn’t recognize them and certainly had no memory of approaching them or being rude.

Maybe they’re rookie mercenaries, and those jerks in the protagonist camp have been feeding them all kinds of lies.

If that’s the case, I definitely shouldn’t have anything to do with them.

Worst-case scenario, I’ll be called a criminal just for making eye contact with them!

With that in mind, I quickly paid for my books and left the store.

They were not so brazen as to follow me after that.

Just when I was thinking to myself that I’d managed to escape the glares of those two girls, I was caught by someone even more bothersome.

“I’ve been looking for you!”

“Ah, hello there...”

It was Léopard, aka Fialka Tielsad.

“Do you have a minute?” she said. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Please make it quick.”

She drew closer to me with a serious expression on her face. “I’m afraid I can’t. It’s a little sensitive, so I’ll need to borrow you for a little while.”

Though I knew she wasn’t a bad person, she was the sort of person I just had trouble dealing with.

I looked to Shelley, the android maid standing next to Tielsad, to beg her for help. However, her eyes told me, Please, just give in to her.

Having judged that there was no way out, I said, “All right, then...”

I regretted this instantly.

“Then it’s settled. Let’s go to my favorite restaurant. It’s nearly time for their lunch service.”

I assumed she was talking about a nearby café at first, but then, she ushered me into a stupidly expensive-looking limousine that belonged to the Tielsad family.

Once I was frozen completely in the back of that limo, I was taken to one of the fanciest restaurants in the empire—a place called Tiarzmeel, which Tielsad said she had frequented ever since she was a child. Their flagship location was in the imperial capital, but there were branches in every important city and in colonies of sufficient scale throughout the empire. It was an ultrahigh-end establishment.

Moreover, we didn’t go in through the entrance meant for the general public. Instead, we landed on the roof in an air-car parking spot reserved for VIPs.

This amazing place is her go-to lunch spot? I guess life really is different for Bishop-ranked mercs—and superrich girls, for that matter.

On top of that, even though a restaurant like this was guaranteed to have a dress code, no one stopped me on our way in, even though I was dressed in my regular clothes. It was probably because I’d come here with Tielsad.

When we were shown to a private dining room, my anxiety went up another few notches.

The waiter handed me the menu, but I couldn’t understand the names of any of the dishes. It wasn’t that I couldn’t read the letters—rather, I’d never heard of the cuisines or preparations involved. And more than that, I was so shocked by the prices that I fell into a panic.

While I was trying to figure out what to do, Tielsad’s maid Shelley said something outrageous.

“Mr. Ouzos, with your earnings, surely a restaurant like this isn’t outside your price range?” she asked.

“Y-You’ve got to be kidding! Not only are the standards too high here, but the prices are out of this world!” I said.

You shouldn’t be so eager to invite commoners like me to a high-class restaurant like this! They obviously choose their clientele carefully!

But I guess Shelley is used to the upper-class life as well...

“Well then, I guess you can leave the ordering to us,” Tielsad said. Of course, since she was so used to this restaurant, she took care of our orders in a snap.

Once that had been handled, it was just me, Tielsad, and Shelley in the room.

“So... What was it you wanted to talk about?” I asked, hoping to depart as quickly as possible.

A serious expression appeared on Tielsad’s face. “You also saw that ship that fired that red beam during the battle, didn’t you?”

She was asking me about Gerhilde, who had arrived on the battlefield with the Seventh Fleet’s detachment during our most recent mission.

“Yes, though it was from a distance.”

“What was your impression of that ship?”

I can’t just say I thought it was the strongest ship in space, can I...?

“My impression...?” I began. “I guess I thought it had some impressive firepower. If you want details, maybe you’d better ask the Seventh Fleet directly?”

But in reality, Gerhilde herself isn’t registered with the army. She told me she was only cooperating with them temporarily.

Not that I ever expected to hear about that from Gerhilde herself.

I was, understandably, conflicted as to how to respond. I tried to off-load that responsibility on the Seventh Fleet. After all, they’d had Gerhilde under their command.

With his personality and abilities, I think Commodore Tornchied would make a pretty good partner for Gerhilde...

Unfortunately, the Seventh Fleet had deployed their trump card—military secrecy.

“They wouldn’t tell me. They said it’s classified.”

There really is nothing she can do now, so she’ll just have to give up.

“Then I guess there’s nothing to be done about it,” I replied. “But I must ask, why are you so curious about it?”

I wouldn’t expect this from Tielsad, but could she be trying to claim Gerhilde for herself? Would she use her family’s power to take her by force...?

She wouldn’t succeed. Commodore Tornchied is a count, and I hardly think he’d sell off a secret weapon. And Gerhilde might kill her if she tried.

Besides, Gerhilde already has a partner, even if I don’t know anything about the person she chose.

I guess since she was already like a soldier herself, she got along well with the soldiers.

“I couldn’t even find out who manufactured that ship. If I knew that much, I could find a way to buy one myself. Then, I could use it as an alternative or let my father’s company study it...”

Looks like I was right—she does want Gerhilde.

Well, she is an incredible ship, so I can understand why.

At any rate, it sounds like this conversation is over, so I guess I’ll be going... Yeah, right.

The food will be brought to our table soon. And even if I went home now, I don’t have enough money to pay for my share. However, we don’t have anything else to talk about...

Though I was hoping to be done with our meal sooner rather than later, Fialka had ordered us a full-course meal. I can only describe the experience that followed as a nightmare.

But Tielsad seemed to have something on her mind, and we hardly spoke after that. It was something of a silver lining to the situation.

I thought the food was tasty, but since I wasn’t used to that kind of fare, I honestly couldn’t tell.

Naturally, Tielsad paid for the check.

Since a meal for two people at that restaurant cost enough to buy a secondhand air-car in good condition, there was no way I could afford it.

☆☆☆

Aside: Rubina Radoum

That day, I went to Planet Ittsu along with my little sister.

As for why, it was because a store there still had a figure of my favorite character, Ura Onizuka from the social life simulation game Romance of the Revenant, in stock. I’d had them put one aside for me, and we went to pick it up.

As soon as we arrived on Ittsu, we headed straight to the Animember location I’d selected for pickup and got that figure of my beloved Ura Onizuka from Romance of the Revenant.

Just as I was enjoying a moment of utmost pleasure after obtaining that figure, he entered our field of vision.

It was the pilot of the khaki battlecraft who had once shot down me and my sister.

It was just as my sister Elisa had said. When she shared an image of him with me and I realized just who our opponent was—a tubby nerd—I was absolutely furious.

Why couldn’t he be a fresh-faced hunk? Or a cute girly boy? Why’d he have to be a chunky loser?!

I had wanted to seek him out and kill him without delay, but since we’d had that job to do for the duke, I couldn’t.

But I just so happened to run into him here. Luck is on my side.

I reached for my gun to kill him right here and now.

My little sister, Elisa, grabbed my hand and stopped me. “Don’t, big sis. The duke told us not to cause any trouble, right?”

“But Elisa, aren’t you frustrated too?”

“Didn’t you say you were going to brush up on your combat skills so you can win next time?” she asked.

“But at the time, I didn’t think he’d turn out to be such a dork!”

I can’t believe such a formidable foe—who took us both out with ease—would look like that!

But the skill he showed in defeating us was undeniable. He’s the real deal.

“Big sis, don’t you think you’re being selfish? I’m repeating myself, but if you commit a murder here, it will cause a lot of trouble for the duke. Besides, if he lost some weight, he might actually be pretty handsome.”

“There’s no way someone like that could ever be handsome!”

I looked at the man as Elisa tried to reason with me.

When he realized we were talking about him, he seemed to panic and hightailed it out of Animember.

Well, he doesn’t know our faces, so he might have thought we were suspicious.

He’s the one who really ought to be treated as suspicious, though.

Well, I’ll let him go this once. I can wait to shoot him down in our next dogfight!

“More importantly, have you finished with your shopping?” I asked Eliza, putting the case of the dork to one side and checking if she’d achieved her objective.

“Yep! All done!” said Eliza with a huge smile. She was carrying two large paper bags.

I’ve never seen what kind of stuff she buys, but I have seen her engrossed in her books while chuckling to herself creepily...

I recalled that, a little while ago, she’d muttered something to herself along the lines of “The pairing of Titans Trooper’s Ren as a wimpy top and Ami as an eager bottom is god-tier!”

Just what on earth did she buy today?

I’ll have to sneak a peek one of these days...

★★★

NPC No. 93: “You are all free to go! Return home to your families or lovers!”

It’d been six days since I’d gotten back to Ittsu, and after enjoying five days of leave, I had to think about getting back to work.

But before that, I still had a number of chores to complete to prepare for a prolonged absence from my apartment. For example, I had to clean my apartment, do my laundry, pack a trunk with clothes, towels, and hygiene products, sort my trash and dispose it all in the dumpsters provided by the apartment complex, try to use up any remaining ingredients I had as I made today’s lunch, and pack up any leftovers to take them with me in my ship.

My lunch today was a ham, cucumber, and lettuce sandwich with some instant corn soup. I also had a three-egg omelet filled with potato, carrot, and onion, and a kind of curry (no rice) I made with leftover chilled dumplings and some curry roux.

During missions, most of my meals ended up being out at restaurants or on the go from retort pouches or instant meal packs. When I was at home, I tried to cook my own meals as often as possible.

After finishing my lunch, I grabbed my trunk and headed to the guild. On these occasions, I tried to use public transport methods like a bus, taxi, or train to get there instead of borrowing one of the bikes provided by my apartment building. This time, I took a taxi.

Once I arrived at the guild, the first thing I did was load my trunk into my ship and check its fuel levels. After doing a once-over on the provisions already on board, I topped up my ship’s water tank and drained out any wastewater.

This goes without saying, but I used the water on my ship for drinking, showers, washing my face and hands, doing the dishes, and flushing the toilet. Water used for dishes or flushing the toilet went straight into a septic tank, whereas the rest of the water went through a purification system that’d been installed on my ship. That purified water could be reused later for washing dishes and flushing the toilet.

The guild’s hangar had a pipeline that ran straight to a water treatment plant, so I used that to dispose of my wastewater and clean out the septic tank at the same time. There was also a spot for filling up your tank with fresh water. This was something I was supposed to do after I returned from a mission, but I typically chose to prioritize my time off and would take care of it before heading off on another mission instead.

When I completed these tasks and headed to the reception lobby, it was a lot more crowded there than before.

“Sup? It’s been a while,” I said to Old Man Lohnes.

“Hey. How was your time off?”

“I got to really enjoy kicking back and surfing the Net, playing some games, and watching anime for the first time in ages.”

Like always, I sat down at Old Man Lohnes’s window and we chatted about nothing of importance as I checked through the list of available missions. Though I did sometimes look for jobs on the bulletin boards around the guild, the displays at the reception desks showed more detailed information about each one and even had some jobs listed that the boards didn’t, so these days I preferred to peruse the list here.

“I don’t know too much about any of that, but if you were able to recuperate, that’s great. More importantly, did you see that public verdict?”

“I did. That was shocking, wasn’t it?”

The news about the sentencing had been announced via an emergency broadcast on my third day of leave. The empress herself had given the sentences of the people who had been forced to take part in the recent rebellion.

The following are the details of that public verdict.

The face of Her Imperial Majesty Amilia Frannodol Orvarus—the thirty-eighth ruler of the Galactic Empire—had appeared on the screen in front of me. Beneath her image was a news ticker reading “Public Verdict to Be Passed Against the Rebels.”

Then, after a rendition of the imperial anthem, the empress proceeded to pass her verdict.

“We, Amilia Frannodol Orvarus, are the thirty-eighth ruler of the Galactic Empire. At this moment, a contingent of those who were foolish enough to dare to take up arms against the throne has been gathered before us. Among them are commoners who were foolish enough to oppose us—and who, according to historical precedent within the Galactic Empire, deserve the death penalty. However, the commoners before us at this moment did not take up arms against us of their own free will. Therefore, we shall reduce their sentences and order a fine of twelve million credits or up to two years’ imprisonment!”

The empress continued speaking. “Next, the nobles who were forced to take part in the uprising due to their close ties with higher-ranking nobles will either pay a fine of 540 million credits or be subjected to up to five years of hard labor! Some of my courtiers have suggested that this penalty is too harsh for those who were forced to take part,” she said. “But to ensure that all our subjects understand that taking up arms against the empire is a grave crime indeed, this is the sentence we have rendered! Mark our words well!”

After she declared this with a severe expression, those in attendance who had joined the rebellion because they had been unable to defy others who outranked them took on expressions of despair and hung their heads.

Then, the empress spoke up again. “But, on this occasion, we have managed to eliminate a great number of fools who had taken root throughout the empire. This auspicious event has rendered our rule yet more adamantine. Therefore, with respect to the sentences of you commoners and nobles who were forced to participate against your wills, we grant you amnesty and release you! This is an imperial decree!”

When they heard these final words from Her Majesty, color returned to the cheeks of everyone who had been forced to join the rebellion.

Simply put, the empress had just announced that, though the fact would remain that these rebels had been punished, their sentences had been commuted at the same moment that they had been imposed on them. Essentially, they were given amnesty and were being released.

Since these people hadn’t even been given trials, the result seemed fairly subordinate to the whims of the empress. But under an absolute monarchy, we had no choice but to follow the decrees of our highest authority—Her Majesty the Empress.

In other words, the empress had taken this opportunity to show everyone that while she respected the precedents that’d been set throughout the empire’s history, she was a different ruler from those who had come before her.

If this had occurred during the reign of Richard Arnell Orvarus, thirty-fifth ruler of the empire and Duke Orvarus’s father, everyone who had plotted against the crown would surely have been put to death, without exception.

After all, His Excellency the Duke remained as a living witness of that reign. From what I’d seen of him in interviews on TV and the like, I had no doubt of that.

I bet someone else scripted all of this. Maybe that venerable great-uncle of hers—I see he’s standing behind the podium in that throng of courtiers.

“You are all free to go! Return home to your families or lovers!” cried the empress.

Thunderous cheers and sobs of joy were clearly audible from the crowd on the other side of the screen.

And that had been the public judgment that’d taken place three days prior.

“I hear the empress’s approval rating is even higher now after all that,” remarked Old Man Lohnes.

“The anti-imperialists who didn’t participate in the rebellion have got to be kicking themselves.”

It was reckoned that there were quite a lot of anti-imperialists who hadn’t taken part. Though I was sure some of them had avoided it simply because they had been thinking straight, nobles were always the first people to exercise their own privileges—or in other words, they were selfish. That meant there must have been a lot of disagreements between them. Some nobles must’ve sat out simply because they hadn’t wanted to work with people they hated.

“Although, regarding the families of the nobles who volunteered to participate, a lot of them evaded responsibility by getting divorced right before the war began. That’ll mean there’ll be a lot more pirates and thieves for a little while, and more rookie mercenaries too. And that’s how you get guys like that,” said Lohnes.

I followed his gaze and caught another conversation going on in the room.

“Excuse me?! I’ll have you know I’m the son of a count, and I was at the top of my class in spaceship combat studies at the high school of the Imperial Academy of Lutoramu! Why should I have to begin my career at the lowest rank there is as a Pawn?!”

“As I’ve explained, your rank in the Mercenaries Guild will advance in proportion to your contributions here. It cannot be determined simply by your combat skills!”

Alphonse Zaystall was explaining the guild’s system in a firm tone of voice to a person at his desk. It was a boy who looked to be a rookie.

That young man was likely an example of the phenomenon Old Man Lohnes had just described to me. When his father had joined the ranks of the rebellion of his own free will, he had divorced his wife and cut ties with the rest of his family so that in the event of his failure, they wouldn’t be made to answer for his crimes.

And the rebellion had ended in failure. When the boy’s father had been imprisoned, the crown had stripped him of his assets and his title. Now, his son would have to earn a living all by himself.

Incidentally, the wives and children of nobles who had been stripped of their titles generally tended to take one of a few different courses of action.

Acknowledge the fact that they were now commoners and work diligently to support themselves. This was the best possible outcome, but it was incredibly rare.

Refuse to give up their notions of nobility, but work diligently anyway. The boy at the reception counter right now was an example of this. Just his willingness to support himself made him better than most.

Not only fail to let go of their pride as nobles, but also have no intention of working. Ex-nobles of this type were more vicious and had no reservations about becoming pirates and engaging in plundering.

Turn up at the door of their mother’s family home or the homes of friendly nobles or commoners. In these cases, the displaced nobles would depend on the largesse of family or friends temporarily in order to eventually take the first or second path...unless they eventually took the third path and became total parasites. Society’s opinion of them ultimately depended on how they decided to proceed.

Decide they can’t live like this and fall on their swords. While there may have been nobles like this in the olden days, it was unclear whether anyone like this still existed.

So, one occupation that remained after someone chose one of the first two options was to become a mercenary.

And on the mission list that Old Man Lohnes provided me with, there were a few names of pirates who looked to be former nobles who had chosen to take up a life of piracy.

“I expected to see a few, but...there are a lot, huh?” I said.

“These nobles feel that they’ve been oppressed since the reign of the previous emperor. I can see how the stress might build up over time.”

“But the way they relieve that stress matters,” I countered. “If they choose to kill people just for failing to pay them the proper respect, or steal while calling it a gift bestowed on their house, or abduct people and falsely imprison them while calling them their apprentices... We can’t put up with that.”

Even though only eight days or so had passed since the rebellion had ended, the job list contained about fifty names along with their criminal charges.

But this is just how many have been reported. The real number has got to be higher.

Within that list, I searched for cases that were reported in the Poeto Sector, which contained Planet Ittsu. I also looked for ones in the Saneca Sector, where Planet Tabul was.

Planet Tabul also had its own branch of the Mercenaries Guild, but it was my parents’ home planet. I was concerned about the state of affairs there, as you might expect. Fortunately, there hadn’t been any reports from the Saneca Sector so far, though there were several reports from within the Poeto Sector.

“How about this one?”

“Ah, former Count Hochicold’s wife and son, huh? There are eyewitness accounts of them turning up near Planet Negola in the Poeto Sector.”

Out of the available options, I chose the group of nobles-turned-pirates who seemed to have done the least damage so far.

NPC No. 94: “Hey, mister. If you don’t want to come to our place, we can go somewhere else. What do you say?”

When viewed from outer space, Planet Negola in the Poeto Sector looked like nothing more than a beautiful yellow-green world.

However, that yellow-green color came from the extremely high concentration of chlorine gas in its atmosphere. It was impossible to breathe on that planet, so without a specialized space suit, one would face certain death there.

But if you did make it past that yellow-green atmosphere, you’d find a vast landscape filled with silver mines. It was said that Planet Negola’s silver deposits were inexhaustible.

It was for that reason that many colonies could be found in orbit around the planet, acting as headquarters for mining operations. They mined the silver by using specialized remote-controlled droids. Living, breathing humans only descended to the planet’s surface in order to do maintenance on those droids or when some other trouble occurred.

This was quite some time ago, but previously, some criminals had been punished by being forced to wear chlorine-resistant spacesuits and work in the silver mines. Those spacesuits hadn’t been effective either.

Anyway, even if silver wasn’t as much of a draw as gold, the presence of silver mines always seemed to draw people in, and towns would be built around them.

That being said, this was outer space, so the settlement here had a cluster of colonies at its center. Surrounding the mining operation’s colonies were residential colonies, asteroid houses, and old ships converted into apartments or service areas. There were also other vessels that’d been repurposed as garages for repairs or energy stands. In terms of appearance, it looked a bit like a spaceship graveyard or a bunch of oddly shaped satellites.

A ship belonging to the former Countess Hochicold and her son—my targets for this mission—had been spotted in this area, so I made my way to this mining base town to investigate.

Well, I guess with this many ships, colonies, and asteroid houses in one place, this is the perfect spot to hide.

As a matter of fact, it was one of the first places I thought of when looking for fugitives.

Since I had a directory of all the nobles in the empire, I knew what the former Countess Hochicold and her son looked like. There was a chance that they had altered their faces or even changed out their entire bodies, though, so I knew I shouldn’t expect too much from that information.

For starters, I guess I’ll go check out the colony that serves as the entertainment district—the biggest colony in the cluster besides the mining ones.

The entertainment colony had three different areas. The main area primarily sought to attract people working on the mines, so it had a range of stores, bars, and diners as well as accommodations for travelers and those partaking in adult entertainment.

Then, there was the downtown area, where the people who worked on the colony lived.

Finally, there was a high-society area, which was home to luxury hotels, high-end boutiques, luxury beauty salons, and luxury restaurants. The general hospital and the police station were also located there.

Why, you might ask, would a mining town—the headquarters for a mining operation—have accommodation for travelers or a high-society area? Though there were quite a few gates providing long-distance travel to the general vicinity of Planet Negola, there weren’t any gates connected with the planet itself. Traveling there took a long time—it was about a five-day flight from the nearest gate, in fact.

Therefore, it was typical for travelers to resupply their ships and take a much-needed rest before leaving the mining operation’s base, and this was true for nobles as well. Since those nobles couldn’t be expected to stay in the main area of the colony, the high-society area had been created to accommodate them.

I pondered all this as I landed my ship in the entertainment colony’s hangar. Once I topped up its fuel and water tanks, I headed to the colony’s main area.

The main area was primarily a meeting place for the miners. Although the former Countess Hochicold and her son used to be nobles, I figured they had to be spending their time on the colony here since they had fallen from grace and started a life of piracy.

By the same token, I could just as well have checked the downtown area, but I hardly thought that the Hochicolds would settle down in one place for very long now that they were pirates. If I were going to check the downtown area, I could wait until after I’d thoroughly searched the main area.

I tried questioning shoppers in the malls, bars, and diners in the district, showing them mug shots of the mother and son duo. Unfortunately, I had trouble gathering any eyewitness testimonies.

Looks like the chances of them having changed their faces or bodies just went up.

If one committed a single act of piracy and then changed one’s face or body, it became pretty hard for that person to get caught. If that was the case here, this mission was going to be more difficult. However, their mug shots were all I had to go on, so it looked like there was no course of action for me except to steadily make my way around the colony, asking if anyone had seen them.

That being said, I’d already visited most of the bars, so I wasn’t sure where to go next. While I was mulling that over, someone suddenly approached me.

“Say, mister. I’ll give you a discount, so how about it?”

The voice belonged to a lady with long chestnut-brown hair and an outfit that boldly exposed her cleavage. In other words, she appeared to be a sex worker.

Once, I’d been taken to one of those establishments by a seasoned mercenary—now retired—as a treat and had a pretty unpleasant experience (my fellow merc wasn’t at fault, rather the business was). Because of that, I didn’t really know how to talk to ladies in that line of work.

However, under my current circumstances, I was going to have to talk to her eventually, so having her approach me was lucky.

“Um, maybe another time,” I said. “On another topic, have you seen these people anywhere?”

“Huh? Mister, are you a detective or something?”

“Well, sort of, but not exactly.”

“Hrmmm.”

She stared intently at the mug shots I showed her of the former Countess Hochicold and her son. Eventually, she pointed at the son. “Ah, I’ve seen him before.”

That shocked me. “Eh? Did you really?!” I asked.

The lady held out her hand, so I reluctantly placed a thousand-credit coin in her palm. She stashed it between her breasts.

“He’s been a regular at the adult entertainment businesses around here of late. He’s even been to our place,” said the lady, actually providing me with some information.

Going off what she said, it looks like I was right to suspect that I’d find them here.

“Do you know what time he usually goes there?”

“Looking at the time, I think he’ll show up any minute now,” she said. “Ah, see? Over there.”

When I looked in the direction the lady pointed, I did indeed spot the former heir to Count Hochicold entering an adult entertainment business.

Well, that was lucky. If I wait for him to come out and tail him, I should be able to find out where his mother or their ship is.

This is such a run of good luck that I almost feel like a protagonist—which, to be honest, makes me scared of what might happen next. But either way, this is still definitely good for the mission.

But the question remains of how I should spend my time during this stakeout without looking suspicious. It would be handy if there were a diner, bar, or café nearby...

However, after looking around, the only businesses I saw with a view of the place I was staking out were, well, the same kind of establishments. The only other things in the vicinity were alleyways and cheap love hotels.

There would be nothing more suspicious than a man hanging around by himself in such a place—especially a man like me.

I should grab some nano surveillance cameras before I go on another mission like this.

Supposing I did my stakeout from one of the love hotels, it would still be suspicious to go in by myself... I’d only stand out.

While I was racking my brains, the lady spoke up again. “Hey, mister. If you don’t want to come to our place, we can go somewhere else. What do you say?”

She seemed to have read what my objective was and was keen to take advantage of that fact.

Figuring that going with her would still be better than standing out and alerting my targets to my presence, I took her up on her offer.

☆☆☆

Aside: Scuna Noswile

After the people who took up arms against Her Majesty the Empress had all been soundly defeated and a number of them had been spared thanks to Her Majesty’s mercy, a Planet Race was organized to mark the end of the civil war.

The race was called the Victory over the Rebel Army Cup, and its racecourse was a planet called Negola in the Poeto Sector.

When viewed from outer space, Planet Negola was a beautiful yellow-green planet. But since that yellow-green atmosphere included an extremely high concentration of chlorine gas, it was completely uninhabitable.

But the planet’s crust was filled with silver deposits, which were said to have an endless supply of the precious metal.

Mining operations would be suspended on the day of the race, but would carry on as normal until then. Since our pit stops and broadcasting facilities were going to be placed just barely inside the planet’s atmosphere, setting them up wasn’t going to impede the miners’ work.

Anyway, because of the restrictions, we would only have a few hours on the day of the race to preview the course before the race began. It was a pretty strict venue. Of course, we also had footage of the course and permission to fly drones over the planet.

Right now, I was aboard Seed 1, the container ship belonging to our Planet Racing team, Crystalweed. I was piloting a drone and getting a quasi-preview of the course. While this might sound like I was getting a practice run, piloting felt completely different than piloting my racing ship. I couldn’t really find the optimal course for the actual race this way.

I finished up my drone flight, still unsatisfied.

“Good hustle! How was it?” asked a teammate.

“I really do wish I could take my own ship down there,” I replied.

“Drones are so small, aren’t they? They can slip through tiny cracks, so even if you think you’ve found a good shortcut, it might be a mistake.”

“Yeah. If I went back there in my actual racing ship and tried doing the same thing, I’d be out of the race in the blink of an eye.”

“All I want is one day. I wish they’d let us practice down there...”

Aero, one of my teammates taking part in the same race, was irritated about being unable to fly her own ship over the planet.

Though silver mines weren’t as vital as the energy mines, silver was used extensively in jewelry and deodorants. We could hardly ask for a prolonged shutdown of the mines for a race. There was just no way around it.

Aero and I were in a changing room, getting out of our pilot suits and back into our street clothes.

“Say, as long as there’s nothing for us to do, why don’t we go out and have some fun?” suggested Aero.

At present, our Planet Racing team, Crystalweed, was staying in a luxury hotel named Hotel Talpest. It was situated in the high-society area on board the entertainment colony that was the linchpin of the colony cluster that had sprung up around the mining headquarters in orbit around the planet.

Since this entertainment colony chiefly catered to miners, there was a wide range of stores, bars, and diners here. There were also plenty of places to stay and adult entertainment establishments in its main area. There were a number of other entertainment options here as well, so there would be plenty to do if we decided to mill around after getting something to eat down there.

We still had a few days to spare until the day of the race, so after getting permission from our team’s director, we headed there to let our hair down.

The main area was really very lively. We were going incognito, but even then, I was surprised to find that no one recognized us. The two of us enjoyed the distinct vibe of the area, nearly getting lost in the waves of people that jostled us on the streets.

“Hmmm. You know, this isn’t so bad after all,” said Aero cheerfully as we walked through a shopping mall, looking for things to buy as we went.

“What are you so excited about? You’ve been here plenty of times before,” I said to Aero with an air of disbelief.

“I mean, I’ve been past the planet in my ship before since it’s a transit hub, but this is basically my first time in town,” said Aero. Then, she brought her lips close to my ear and whispered, “We don’t know who might be listening, so we need to be careful.”

Oh, yeah. As champion Planet Racers, we have to be careful about our image. Not only is this place known as a transit hub, but it’s also famous as one of the first places people think of when looking for a place a criminal might hide. I shouldn’t say she’s been here plenty of times before.

Aero took a step back and looked around. “Although... If we did run into that acquaintance of yours here, it would be like destiny calling...” she said.

“Not much chance of that happening,” I said.

Considering the lifestyle of the man in question, it would be surprising to find him around any racing venue. And running into him somewhere like this, that was so far away, would be impossible.

At least, that was what I thought.

“Ah, it’s him! The Farseer!”

“Excuse me? Please don’t joke about...”

“Look, it’s really him! He just walked into a hotel, arms locked with a woman!”

“Eh?!”

At first, I thought Aero was just joking, but when I looked in the direction she pointed out to me, I witnessed the moment that John Ouzos stepped into one of those hotels with a pretty woman on his arm.

Aero nodded to herself. “Wow... Well, he is a man, after all. She looked like a working gal to me,” she said. For some reason, she seemed impressed.

As for how I felt, for some reason, I was angry.

“Ooh, what’s wrong with me...? Am I really less attractive than that woman he was with?” I wondered aloud.

It’s not that I have romantic feelings for him, for John Ouzos... At least, I don’t think I do.

He’s someone I’d like as an ally, that’s all. And if he’s not my ally, he’s someone who’ll only get in my way.

“What’s up? Finally thinking of making a move on him?”

“It’s not that, but... Hey, Aero. Am I just not very feminine?” I asked.

Not only does he not seem to have his eye on me as a pilot, but he barely seems to think of me as a woman.

When it comes to piloting, I have an undeniable track record, so I’ve done all I can there...

But to not even be recognized as a woman? That just makes me angry for some reason.

“Well, not really,” she said. “You’ve definitely got a pretty face, but people call you Prince for a reason.”

“I don’t think my figure is too shabby either. What do you think?”

“Picking a fight with me, are you?” said Aero, still smiling as she leered at me and made clawing gestures with her hands. After she’d groped my chest for a few minutes, she said, “Maybe it isn’t your appearance or personality he doesn’t like. Maybe he just doesn’t want to get involved with a celebrity?”

“Maybe you’re right...”

Aero had finally answered my question.

Whether it was the latter reason (which I could understand) or the former (which made me angry), I had to accept how he felt. If I criticized someone for their personal preferences, I’d be barking up the wrong tree.

Whatever his reason was, I felt like my pride as a woman had been hurt at least a little bit, but there was no sense worrying about it. It would be wrong to get angry with him over that.

“All right! Shall we go get something to eat?” I asked, hoping to take my mind off what I’d just seen.

“Oh! Your treat? Your treat?”

“As long as I get to make the order, I’ll treat you.”

“Hooray!”

Aero was a little too eager at my offer, so I was sure to put in some guardrails.

I was still reeling after seeing a side of my acquaintance I hadn’t expected to see. It made me a little angry and a little worried. But at that moment, the thing I really should have been worrying about was whether to get something sweet or something hearty to eat.

That was the question I pondered as we started walking along the main street again.

NPC No. 95: “I knew this day would come...”

I got myself a room in a love hotel with a window facing the street. I opened the curtains just a tiny bit and kept an eye on the establishment my target had entered.

As for the lady with me, I paid her up front and told her she could pass the time however she liked.

But then, she said, “Hey. I think your target will be in there for at least two hours. Why don’t we take this opportunity to have some fun?”

She drew closer to me.

Firmly, I said, “No, thank you. Who knows when he might come out?”

I turned her down.

She looked stunned. “You’re no fun. I guess I’ll take a nap, then,” replied the lady, lying down on the bed. The next thing I knew, she was sound asleep.

She must have been tired...

Two hours later, the lady who’d accompanied me still hadn’t stirred from her slumber. However, I did see the former heir to Count Hochicold step out of the establishment with a look of satisfaction on his face.

Though I felt bad about it, I woke up the woman, handed her the fee for the hotel, and immediately dashed outside to tail my target.

Since I wasn’t all that skilled at tailing a target, I kept plenty of distance from Eric Hochicold while following at a leisurely pace.

I thought he would head to a hideout somewhere, but to my surprise, he headed straight for the hangar. As soon as he got there, he climbed aboard a plain-looking destroyer-class ship.

After waiting until I was sure my target was on board, I quietly approached the ship’s hatch. I expected to find it locked, but it was still open.

This kind of ship usually has an auto-locking mechanism that can only be opened with dog tags, but I guess this one doesn’t. How careless of them.

After sneaking aboard the ship, I was greeted by an awfully stark scene.

Usually, a ship’s quarters would contain all manner of personal effects, including a few changes of clothing. Here, I saw nothing inside but piles of trash.

The fridge and shelves in the kitchen should have contained ingredients and seasonings, but there were none in sight.

I checked the ship’s gun and cannon emplacements, but I couldn’t find any energy stocks for the blasters.

As for the quarters and corridors, they showed noticeable signs of age with some indication that they had been in regular use until recently.

Despite this, I didn’t see any droids or people other than my target aboard.

A ship of this class could technically be piloted by just one person if all they wanted to do was move it around. However, they really would be limited to transport only—they couldn’t engage in combat. This ship needed a human pilot crew or droids to be operated fully.

Even a ship on leave or under maintenance should have a skeleton crew of people aboard, but there was no sign of anyone manning this ship.

And it wasn’t as if the ship’s droids had had their power cut. There simply weren’t any droids here. It was almost like a ghost ship.

After circling the craft, I finally headed to the bridge and found someone sitting in the captain’s chair.

I no longer had any doubt that the man I’d followed was Eric Hochicold, the former heir of Count Hochicold.

I sidled up to him, careful not to make any noise. He didn’t seem to be aware of my presence at all. He just stared blankly up into the air while muttering to himself.

“It sure is great to have some alone time after having fun... Not only is mother a nag, she hasn’t thought anything through... It’s a good thing we let our servants go early on. If we still had them in our employ, they would have killed us by now.”

His mutterings piqued my interest.

“Why did you let them go?” I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I had time to think.

He answered my question without any thought as to who had asked it.

“After we’d committed about seven acts of piracy, we found we’d plundered about two hundred million credits. Some of the spoils came in the form of fuel, ammo, and food—but even though we could have used the stuff, we sold it all instead.”

Then he finally realized something was wrong and reacted accordingly.

“Wait, who’s there?!” he asked.

I already had my gun pointed at him, so he sat right back down in the captain’s chair.

“Eric Hochicold, son of the former count, I presume? I’ve come from the Mercenaries Guild,” I said.

The former count’s heir sighed heavily. “I knew this day would come...”

Eric Hochicold showed no signs of putting up a fight.

“You couldn’t have expected to get very far without even one droid on board,” I said. “Now tell me, how did you end up like this?”

“Mother sold off all the fuel, ammo, and food we had, even though we could have used it. She gave our servants a big payout, and we still had enough money left over to buy all sorts of things afterward. But she decided to use it all to live the high life by herself. She’s holed up in a luxury hotel in the high-society area.”

“And that’s when you let your servants go?”

“After selling everything that was left on the ship, I got them to quit and paid them their severance, though it wasn’t all that much.”

“Where’d you find the money to visit those establishments?”

“I brought that with me when we left our home,” he said. “Well, I gave more than half of my money to the servants. But at least I was able to have some peace and quiet...”

“And where is your mother?”

“She’s staying at a luxury hotel called Hotel Derappin, in the imperial suite.”

He answered me frankly as I questioned him.

Looking at the former count’s heir, he was probably only around high school or college age. I had some misgivings about a boy of that age being a regular at adult entertainment joints, but there was a look of weariness etched on his face.

“You have my sympathy...” I murmured.

When I placed the handcuffs on him, the boy almost looked relieved. I couldn’t tell if it was because he wouldn’t have to commit any more crimes or because he was being freed from his mother.

After calling the police to hand the former count’s heir into their custody, I had him hand me the Versitool he’d been using.

If I—meaning someone completely unrelated to anyone staying at the luxury hotel—tried calling one of its guests, they wouldn’t patch me through. They wouldn’t let me in if I tried to visit either.

My strategy was to use the son’s Versitool to send his mother an email instead.

Incidentally, he unlocked it for me.

The body of the email I sent to the boy’s mother was as follows:

Dear mother: A chap has shown up saying he’ll give us two of these ships. Just one ship of this model is worth two million, if you can believe it. At the same time, he wants to present us with a gift of precious metals and jewelry. He says he simply must meet with you so he can lead you to the ships. He would like to do this without delay. I am sorry to have to trouble you with this, but please come to our ship with haste.

In all honesty, I didn’t think she’d fall for it. I would have considered myself lucky if she had been only suspicious enough to come with bodyguards, or send only her bodyguards, period.

Incidentally, the photo I had attached to the message was of Rossweisse’s and Gerhilde’s ships.

Twenty minutes after I had sent that email, the boy’s mother showed up outside the ship, all by herself.

I greeted the former Countess Hochicold in the guise of a servant to the person who wanted to present her with a gift.

“Countess Rottana Hochicold, I have looked forward to making your acquaintance,” I began. “My name is...”

She cut me off. “Where’s Eric? And where are the ships and the jewelry you’re supposed to be giving me? Those were gorgeous ships, so I thought of making one my personal craft and keeping the other as an investment. Sort out the paperwork at once,” said the former countess, showing no sign of listening to me. Instead, she was ordering around someone who she thought was working for a total stranger without hesitation.

Ahhh. Yep. She’s a noble, all right. She thinks all commoners are her servants. Abusing us wouldn’t make her feel guilty at all. She’s just like that pink-haired lady—Ako Shandelar. Don’t tell me they’re related?

It wouldn’t do to have her wandering around here. With an irritated expression on her face, she glanced around for her son. I took aim with my tranquilizer gun—meant for apprehending criminals—and gave former countess Rottana Hochicold a dart right in the back of her neck.

NPC No. 96: “Mr. Ouzos, I’m sorry for making you come shopping with me.”

When the police took her away, much to my relief, the former countess was still fast asleep. She definitely would have made a fuss had she been awake.

I finished my paperwork with the police and decided to head back to the colony’s main area to eat some barbecue at a street stand. After that, I spent the night on my ship before making my way home. It took a while, but in the end, I managed to make it back to Planet Ittsu in one piece.

On the day I got home, I went straight home and slept. I went to the Mercenaries Guild to make my report the next day.

“You’re back, I see,” said Lohnes.

“It’s good to be home... There was no combat this time, but just getting around was exhausting...”

After all, a one-way trip there took at least five days, and I couldn’t let my guard down on the way either. The mental strain really added up.

“It was worth it, though, right? Looking at the mission file—‘Capture the Hochicold mother and son pirate duo’—the reward for both of them is 1.6 million. The proceeds from selling the destroyer they were using come to another 16.4 million. That’s 18 million in total, you know? I wish you’d share a little of that with me.”

Though Old Man Lohnes did sound a little envious, he still carried out the payment process. It was a hefty sum, so I took it all in data money.

After that, Lohnes showed me the new list of nobles-turned-pirates and asked, “So, who’re you going after next?”

I really didn’t want to get right back to work, so I refused the list. “I’ll take today and tomorrow off,” I replied. “I’m feeling mentally drained.”

Old Man Lohnes didn’t push the matter after that but brought up a different topic. “In that case, why not go to the mall for a change? I hear there’s a sale on at the moment,” he said, handing me a flyer.

As I flipped through it on my way out of the guild branch, I saw they had a sale on soap and detergent—two things I was running low on. I figured there was nothing wrong with going to the mall once in a while, so I followed the old man’s advice and made my way there.

The shopping mall, Lockbard, was a little way outside of the city. It boasted quite a large area with plenty of tenants having set up shop inside. The mall had relaxation facilities like nature parks and spas, along with plenty of amusement facilities like arcades, a cinema, and an indoor athletics center. One could have fun all day there.

It also had a direct transit connection in the form of a shuttle bus from the nearest train station, so it was easy to access as well.

There were so many shoppers here that a guy like me didn’t stand out. I was starting to think I might be able to relax there...but that feeling didn’t last for long.

“Mr. Ouzos, I’m sorry for making you come shopping with me.”

“Uh... No, it’s fine...”

“I will be sure to repay you for this.”

I’d run into Alphonse Zaystall there. He had a gathering with his relatives soon and had come to the mall to pick out some things to take along with him.

He was known around the Mercenaries Guild as...well, as a lady receptionist. Thanks to his pretty face and reliability on the job, he was seen as the most popular among the girls.

If someone sees me out and about with the prettiest “girl” at the guild, I might end up standing out after all!

As I glanced about, I got the feeling that there were more people around us than before.

Zaystall was wearing pants today, and his outfit was altogether masculine. But the fact that he couldn’t help being mistaken for a woman despite this was thanks to the pretty face he was born with.

And at times like these, there was always going to be a jerk who couldn’t help bothering him.

“Hmmm... You’re quite the pretty one, aren’t you?”

Up until now, it had always been a mercenary or a former classmate, but today’s new jerk was clearly a nobleman.

In the recent rebellion, not every noble who had misgivings about the present empress’s reign had joined up. About thirty percent had chosen not to participate.

It was said that they hadn’t because they’d hoped to legally obtain territories belonging to nobles who either died in the war or lost their assets as punishment after being defeated. They’d hoped that, even if the rebellion failed, they could continue to enjoy the privileges “befitting a noble” without drawing attention to themselves.

However, I personally believed that the majority of them had just wanted to avoid getting killed in battle.

Well, I guess that’s a good enough reason to stay out of a war.

To this man—who was probably a nobleman’s son, judging from his age—I wasn’t even a blip on his radar.

“I’m granting you permission to wait on me as one of my attendants! You may weep with joy now!” said the man with a snort of self-satisfaction, placing several of his fingers below Zaystall’s chin.

However, in the very next moment, Zaystall had seized the nobleman’s arm. It was now twisted behind the man’s head.

“Owww ow ow ow ow ow! What are you doing, all of a sudden?!”

“You spoke very rudely to me, ‘all of a sudden,’ and even tried to kiss me, did you not? You should have expected this!” said Zaystall, airing his discomfort as he kept twisting the noble’s arm.

“I... I’m the son of a baron, I’ll have you know! Do you really think you’ll get away with this?!”

It was no surprise that the young man tried to use his status to coerce Zaystall, but Zaystall himself was unperturbed.

“The previous emperor issued a decree that put a stop to people justifying acts of coercion based on their social rank, and the present empress has continued to implement that law. Would you persist in such conduct knowing that it means defying Her Majesty?” Zaystall asked. He then continued his explanation dispassionately. “Besides, if you really are a nobleman, then what are you doing in a shopping mall frequented by commoners? Don’t nobles typically call boutique vendors directly to their mansions?”

“Grrr...”

Without missing a beat, Zaystall made a biting remark at the baron’s heir, who had gone out of his way to come to a store meant for commoners.

I figured that this baron’s son was one of the noblesse de robe, and his family didn’t have any territory to their name.

Whether or not you hold territory makes a big difference to your revenue... Mhmm. I’d better keep my mouth shut.

With the same smile he maintained at work behind the guild’s reception counter on his face, Zaystall revealed his trump card. “One last thing. I’m a man. Not a woman, unfortunately,” he said, delivering the killing blow to the baron’s son.

“I know that! I first spied you coming out of the men’s restrooms, but I lost sight of you, and I’ve been looking for you ever since!” said Zaystall’s opponent, delivering a formidable counterattack. “I’ll say this one last time! I’m permitting you to serve at my side! Let go of my arm now and swear fealty to me! If you do, I’ll take quite good care of you!” yelled the baron’s son in a voice filled with confidence.

I’d heard that kind of predilection—a penchant for beautiful young men—was widespread among the nobles of old.

Zaystall was unwilling to consider the man’s offer. “Regardless, I’d never go along with a jerk like you!”

“Ugh!”

Zaystall swiftly changed his stance and rendered his opponent unconscious with a sleeper hold.

You know, I’ve thought this about Zaystall for a while, but he really is an incredible fighter!

It wasn’t long before somebody reported the altercation, and the shopping mall’s security officers rushed to our location.

“This man assaulted me without warning, so I was forced to fight him off,” said Zaystall, pointing at the baron’s son.

The security officers carted away the unconscious noble while making eyes at Zaystall.

After they left, Zaystall turned to me. “I’m very sorry for causing such a scene,” he said.

“Ah, no, no, no... That must have been distressing for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help.”

“It takes more than a scuffle like that to bother me. By way of thanks and apology, let me treat you to lunch,” said Zaystall, and we headed in the direction of the mall’s food court.

Looks like I better avoid ever picking a fight with Zaystall. I have neither a reason nor the courage to do so.

NPC No. 97: “This is the intuition of an elderly woman with a lot of life experience. The one who’s been putting ideas in their heads will be a woman if they approached the son, or a man if they approached his mother. The son would be a pushover, and no matter how old the mother is, she’s still a woman. She’d be putty in the hands of a hunk.”

The day after I went shopping with Zaystall, I was back at the Mercenaries Guild.

If I were being honest, I would have liked at least one more day off, but I had started to feel like I had too much time on my hands. I thought I’d at least come and see what missions were available.

Old Man Lohnes gave me a look of genuine surprise as I sat down at his counter. “Huh? Weren’t you going to be away for a little longer?” he asked.

“I just felt like I had too much time on my hands. Are there any missions available?”

“There are, though I oughta tell you that the whole guild is under increased security at the moment; they’re looking for somebody.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“The wife and child of the mastermind of that rebellion a little while back—one former marquess, Fildeld Vastorg—have been running wild. They say they’ve got a pretty big military presence. If they aren’t stopped, they could even take over a whole planet,” said Lohnes, handing me a file and explaining the details of the manhunt.

“How did the family of a disgraced noble who was penalized for the rebellion get such a big military force together?”

Well, I guess if they divorced before the marquess had his assets confiscated, the wife might have been able to keep her share...

“Looks like they kept those troops back within their territory as a reserve army, though the Seventh Fleet’s ace in the hole probably wiped out their main fleet before they could call ’em in.”

As Lohnes looked through the file, his expression seemed to say, Serves ’em right.

As for the Seventh Fleet’s ace in the hole, he most certainly meant Gerhilde, that sentient ancient superweapon.

No wonder they couldn’t measure up to the Seventh.

But I have to wonder, who was it who managed to win Gerhilde over? Based on my first impressions of her, it seems like it would be pretty hard to get her to like you.

But I did ask her...and she wouldn’t tell me.

“At any rate, you’d get paid for your cooperation even if you just provided information leading to their arrest. So I had to tell ya.”

When I looked around, I saw a big crowd of mercs who all looked like they were going to join the search. It was getting pretty hectic in the lobby.

Well, I guess I might as well go and have a look too. It would be great to get paid just for providing intel that helps them get caught.

That being said, it sounds like I might be in for the long haul, so I’d better stop by the apartment first. I should pack some food, clothes, light novels, and anime data cards.

And I can’t leave without getting some info from Gonzales or the old fortune teller lady either.

Though the more typical shopping districts continued to sing the praises of the empress following her victory, the atmosphere in the Black Market Shopping District had quickly gone back to normal.

Incidentally, that butcher shop not only had its range of deep-fried meats, but a new, grilled item: “Fettered Orc Cadaver Born of the Searing Hot Black Ooze.”

I did my best to resist the enticing aroma as I headed to Pattson’s Pharmacy and requested any information he could find about the wife and child of former marquess Fildeld Vastorg.

After I’d waited about an hour, which was par for the course, Gonzales came back with something unexpected.

“Going off of eyewitness testimony, what I’ve been able to determine so far is where they’ve turned up so far and a rough idea of some of the places they might be hiding in that vicinity,” he began. “The wife and child of the former Marquess Vastorg are amateurs when it comes to piloting and operating a ship—and they lost any subordinates of theirs who were versed in those things in the recent battle. However, if they use an AI control system, even amateurs like them can engage in naval combat. And if they have been using an AI control system, their movements are guaranteed to have been recorded by the AI itself. So, I thought I’d try hacking the AI control systems of any ships I could that were either in flight or docked in that area, and looking through their logs. I couldn’t find any ships with suspicious-looking logs, however. If any of the ships I looked into belonged to the wife and child of the former Marquess Vastorg, either it must have had some fairly strong protection against hacking or they’ve actually been piloting their ship without relying on a control AI.”

To my shock, even with his skills, Gonzales had been unable to track them down.

Well, if they wanted to avoid using a control AI, they could easily do that. They’d just need to hire someone who knows how to pilot and operate a ship.

That being said, my situation was still better off than knowing nothing about them at all. I paid Gonzales his fee and then exited the store.

Next, I went to the old fortune teller lady to ask her opinion. However...

“No idea, I’m afraid” was her curt response. “But there’s no way the wife and child of the former marquess would be aware of such advanced means of concealing themselves in the first place, so I can’t imagine they’ve done that. I bet someone else has put ideas in their heads. Oh, I know. Go and have a look around the asteroid city that orbits the star of Oduedo. I’m sure you’ll find something useful there.”

After saying this, she put out her hand and demanded twice the fee I’d planned on paying her.

“But that isn’t exactly reliable information, is it?” I asked.

“This is the intuition of an elderly woman with a lot of life experience. The one who’s been putting ideas in their heads will be a woman if they approached the son, or a man if they approached his mother. The son would be a pushover, and no matter how old the mother is, she’s still a woman. She’d be putty in the hands of a hunk,” said the old woman with a smile.

I couldn’t help seeing her expression as belonging to a witch from a fairy tale.

I set off from Planet Ittsu the next day to join the search for former marquess Vastorg’s wife and son, who had turned to piracy.

The first place I headed was the asteroid city orbiting the star of Oduedo, which had featured in the information provided to me by the old fortune teller and Gonzales.

“Asteroid city” was another name for an asteroid belt densely populated with asteroids whose interiors had been modified for various purposes. For example, they would house asteroid houses, offices, shops, workshops, and plant factories.

The mining headquarters I’d visited previously near Planet Negola had been populated with ships and colonies, but this base was made up of modified asteroids. It was about ten times as large as the mining base, and there were a lot of ships docked there. This made it an ideal hideout for someone trying to lie low, and it was the closest suitable location to each of the places the pirates had been spotted.

For starters, I decided to head to the most enormous asteroid in the city. That colossal asteroid was known as the Central Boulder, since it lay at the heart of it all. A wide array of shops, offices, hotels, and public services lined its halls. There were a ton of other places like this, as whenever people decided to live somewhere, stores like those would always spring up. Incidentally, this kind of development used to be illegal. Now that they were recognized under the law, you could hold a proper address in a place like this. But, even so, these developments were still considered to be ideal hideouts for criminals.

After docking my ship in the hangar on Central Boulder, I walked to the asteroid’s downtown shopping district.

Though I’d caught my last target by searching adult entertainment establishments, if I was going by what the old fortune teller had said, Vastorg’s son might have been in a relationship with a woman. I couldn’t expect too much there.

Since I’d decided to look for them in this area anyway, I figured I’d check the number one place I always went to gather information—a bar.

That being said, since public services operated on the asteroid, there weren’t any bars that seemed too dangerous. Plus, because I’d arrived very early in the evening, there were still a lot of people on the street—older guys who worked as physical laborers, younger salarymen, and office ladies.

Ah, well. For today, I suppose I’ll just get something to eat and start my investigation in earnest tomorrow.

With that in mind, the first place I headed wasn’t a pub or bar that mainly looked to serve drinks, but a so-called izakaya that provided plenty of food options as well. Since I didn’t really drink alcohol most of the time, I hardly ever visited these places, but this was somewhere you could go to have a good meal, for which I was grateful.

While I was eating, I put together a plan for my search effort, starting the next day.

Whenever you wanted to find nobles who were hiding in a place like this, the trick was to look for anyone living extravagantly.

The Hochicold mother and son duo I previously tracked down had fit that description to the letter, though things weren’t guaranteed to play out the same way this time. Still, there was some merit to conducting a search along those lines.

Therefore, I decided I’d start by looking around all the luxury accommodation facilities.

That being said, those places had strict security protocols, and they wouldn’t just show me their guest list. How to carry out such a search was always a head-scratcher.

One method available to me was to contact Gonzales and ask him to look into their guest list. That would cost me some money, but it was probably the best approach.

I’ll pick out some places I feel like the wife and son of the former marquess might have chosen, then ask him.

If that doesn’t work, I guess I’ll search some regular homes? Better hit up the bigger asteroid houses first.

If I were a protagonist, I could expect my target to waltz right up to me. The search would be over in a day, and I’d get a standing ovation back at the guild.

These thoughts flitted through my mind as I ate yakitori and sipped on an oolong tea that I’d ordered.

NPC No. 98: “I suppose that is the fate of one born to be such a beauty, Your Majesty.”

☆☆☆

Aside: Fialka Tielsad

The reception organized by Her Majesty the Empress was to be held at the imperial palace in the capital city of Hain. All of the mercenaries who had devoted their efforts to putting down the rebellion as part of Her Majesty’s personal guard would be in attendance.

The Rainbow Room, which was to serve as the main ballroom for the event, was the most enormous hall in the imperial palace. The carpets were so soft here that I felt like I could lie down and sleep on the spot. I figured that if one counted all the chandeliers and other decorations around the room, the total number of items here would run into the tens of millions.

Though that was the vibe inside the palace, its external walls were made from a material that could withstand a few shots from a warship’s cannons. It was nearly a fortress, fitted with every defense system you could think of.

Within the Rainbow Room, tables were laid with food and drinks. Nobles and soldiers roamed around the hall—either on their own or in groups—sounding out acquaintances or other influential nobles and sharing the odd chuckle.

In contrast to the rest of the guests at this event, we mercenaries were all clustered around a few tables at one end of the hall.

The reason for this all stemmed from what had happened in the palace’s large waiting room that had been assigned to us earlier.

The mercenaries who were invited to the reception had all been incorporated into Her Majesty’s personal guard. Counting up the mercenaries themselves, their partners, and any team members, they made up one hundred fifty guests.

Unfortunately, servants to nobles were not allowed to enter the venue, so Shelley was going to have to remain here in the waiting room. I also saw a number of other servants who’d need to stay behind.

Even if I had spoken up and tried to force them to admit Shelley on the basis that she was my partner as a mercenary, I didn’t think it would have turned out well for me. I decided to just behave myself and do as I was told.

Another reason we had a waiting room was to give us somewhere to change into formal suits or gowns. While mercenaries from noble families certainly had this kind of attire, it was thought that some of the commoners might have to borrow suitable clothes.

Inside the venue itself, it was forbidden for anyone to carry weapons besides imperial sentries, so one additional reason we had been shown to the waiting room first was so we could check in our weapons and any other belongings we might want to leave behind, like a change of clothes.

While we were getting ready in that waiting room, a new face joined us.

“Mercenaries, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Keen Golfox. I’ve been instructed to escort you to the venue.”

Everyone immediately recognized the man who addressed us. He had narrow eyes and a gentle expression on his face. In terms of age, he was at the beginning of old age. Holding the rank of general in the imperial military as well as the title of count, Keen Golfox was the commander of the Eighth Fleet, the Central Fleet’s crusader squadron.

Because he had devoted himself to training young recruits in his capacity as an instructor at the military academy, some called him “Professor.” However, others called him “Old Fox” or “Slippery Devil.” He was famous for being someone who was not straightforward to deal with.

“First of all, I would like to express my utmost gratitude for your efforts in the recent war. I will be bringing you to the reception venue in just a moment, but first, I’d like to give you all one piece of advice,” said General Golfox. For some reason, he had a slightly weary look in his eyes. “Once you enter the ballroom, I want you mercenaries to stick together. Oh, but I don’t mean for you to isolate yourselves—you need to do this for your own emotional well-being. When it comes to nobles, even if they aren’t corrupt, they tend to be show-offs. They’re sarcastic and selfish. I think some of you might have even encountered this behavior during the war.”

As the general looked around at us, the majority of us could recall having experienced abuse or sexual harassment on the battlefield.

“Well, I say this as a noble myself, but it can be trying to interact with the aristocracy, steeped in greed as we are. If you all stick together, that might serve as something of a comforting repellent,” he explained.

His initial weary expression had been replaced by one of disgust. It seemed to me that he really did despise socializing with nobles.

“Now, then. It’s about time for us to be going. Are you all ready?” he asked.

So that was how we found ourselves guided by General Golfox, and he had us enter the Rainbow Room, the venue for the reception.

By the way, at parties convened by our empire, there was a rule that each cohort—beginning with those in the lowest social ranks—should arrive at the venue successively by the scheduled start time. When we mercenaries entered the ballroom, only the staff who were actively preparing for the party were there.

Lesser nobles and lower-ranked soldiers arrived about half an hour after us.

Incidentally, food and drinks were only to be served once the higher-ranked nobles and military officers had entered the venue. That was a specific rule for parties hosted by Her Majesty the Empress. The reason given for that was that the empress wished for everyone to be able to speak freely with her and the higher nobles before they had imbibed much alcohol. If those of lower rank were to be drinking freely first, it could lead them to be less rational.

Of the mercenaries invited to this party, there were some who had attended parties hosted by both the previous and present rulers of the empire and were already familiar with these social rules. But even those attending an imperial gathering for the first time were easily able to ask other guests or the wait staff about protocol, so it didn’t look like there would be any particular problems on that front.

Conversely, some of the lesser nobles also seemed unfamiliar with the rules. However, that resulted in them grabbing staff members and yelling at them or throwing things around. Since lesser nobles hardly ever attended parties hosted by the empress herself, they must not have been used to this kind of environment.

When those types entered the venue, it prompted us mercenaries to cluster together around the tables at one end of the hall and strike up lively conversations with one another. Sticking together like that was at least somewhat effective at making the lesser nobles think twice before speaking to us.

However, this only worked for those who were unsociable or had common sense. Lesser nobles who did not fit either of these descriptions did not hesitate to approach us.

As a matter of fact, the daughters of nobles flocked to the likes of Albert Sirclud, aka the Ebony Devil, as well as Lambert Reargraz of Federhelm, who had also come from the Ittsu branch, and Arthur Lingard. At the same time, the men swarmed around Malireicht Luihyen Falina, known as the Crimson Goddess; Katy Alptet, who also hailed from the Ittsu branch and was known as the Emerald Rose; Rossweisse of Federhelm; and Seira Cynida, Arthur’s partner.

And then there were guys who tried chatting with me.

“Hey. Finally found you, little Léopard. Ready to be my exclusive bodyguard yet?”

This offer came from the grossest by far of all the guys who had hit on me during the recent war.

“I believe I rejected your offer in no uncertain terms,” I replied.

The man was thoroughly intoxicated by his self-image and paid no attention to my words. “I’m a major in the army and Count Roynan’s son. As a viscount’s daughter, becoming my bodyguard would benefit you too, you know?”

“I cannot see how it would benefit me,” I said.

All the rumors about this man—one Pandest Roynan, Count Roynan’s son—pointed to him being bad news. One particularly famous tale was about how he had plunged his family into debt with his spendthrift behavior and had been forced to join the army to pay it back. It was blindingly obvious that he’d approached me only because he was after the assets held by my father’s business—the Tielsad Corporation.

Soon enough, we found that half an hour had passed since the lesser nobles had arrived, which meant one hour had passed since we mercenaries had entered the ballroom. When the higher-ranked nobles and military officers entered the hall, the staff began serving food and drinks.

At this time, the lesser nobles and soldiers moved in unison to greet the higher-ranked nobles.

“What a pity. Time’s up,” Count Roynan’s son said to me. “And this was your last chance to become my exclusive bodyguard.”

He followed that up with an exasperated gesture, holding his hand against his brow and shaking his head. It was really irritating. Then, I got to watch him walk over to the group of higher-ranked nobles and bow his head to one of them.

Looks like there’s someone over there he’d like to get to know even more than me.

Well, as long as he goes away, I really don’t care.

An hour and a half after we mercenaries entered the room, the empress’s ministers entered the hall. And half an hour after that—which marked two hours since we had arrived at the reception—we finally got to witness the entrance of Her Majesty the Empress.

Her Majesty was wearing a blue dress, similar in color to her hair. She was adorned with the imperial seal, which was forbidden to be worn by anyone besides the imperial ruler.

Once drinks had been served to everyone, Her Majesty stepped onto a low stage and launched into her welcome speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” she began. “You truly distinguished yourselves in the battle to defeat this rebellion! With regard to the courage of both the soldiers and mercenaries gathered here, we have nothing but words of praise and thanks for all of you! Your achievements were truly noteworthy! And we would like to give particular attention to the efforts of my great-uncle, Duke Altishult Bingil Orvorus, who succeeded in disabling a detachment of the enemy forces who attempted to invade Hain—here, our imperial homeworld—in our absence, while hardly suffering a single loss. His exploits warrant our utmost praise!”

So said the empress before walking over to His Excellency the Duke.

“Great-uncle. Honestly, thank you so much. If you had not been with us, I shudder to think of what might have happened to our imperial subjects. I am sure you still have misgivings about one as immature as I sitting on the throne, but can I count on your continued support?” she said, bowing to the duke from her waist.

“Raise your head, Amilia. Despite this creaky old body of mine, I will always do my level best for you as your loyal vassal. You are my nephew’s daughter, yet you might as well be my granddaughter,” said the duke. A grin that suited such an affable old fellow played across his lips.

“Thank you so much, great-uncle...” murmured Her Majesty before returning to the center of the stage. “Now, then, ladies and gentlemen! A toast to our victory!”

“To victory!” cried the party guests.

With this toast, the reception finally began in earnest.

Once Her Majesty joined the celebration, there was a noticeable decline in the number of people bothering us. I wished that this reception would end peacefully, but then, the empress herself approached our group.

When we realized she was coming our way, we all straightened our backs.

Her Majesty started by addressing the most famous among us—the King-rank mercenaries. She must have spoken with them a number of times before, as she seemed fairly candid with them.

Of course, some in the room were not best pleased to see this, but since this was a reception, they kept their mouths shut.

I saw her go on to approach the likes of Arthur Lingard and Lambert Reargraz. Both of them looked quite nervous.

Though I’d seen the empress on several occasions due to my father’s business relationships, I had never actually spoken to her.

When Her Majesty passed by close to me, I bowed my head out of courtesy.

“If it isn’t Léopard. You are Fialka Tielsad, Viscount Tielsad’s daughter, yes?”

To my amazement, Her Majesty was speaking to me.

The servant behind her is holding a list with all the guests on it—she must have learned my name, alias, and what I look like from that.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty!”

“I have been told that the performance of female combatants in this war—meaning mercenaries and soldiers alike—was of particular notice. I hope you will continue to lend us your strength to preserve peace in our empire.”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty!” I stammered out again.

Though I’d attended parties hosted by Her Majesty before, her regal voice had never addressed me before.

In the very next moment, she said, “But you know, if I could pilot a battlecraft as well as you, I would have shot down that Marquess Vastorg with his toothbrush mustache myself! I always felt like he looked at me in a kind of creepy way. I honestly couldn’t stand him!” From her tone of voice, it was almost like she was speaking to a friend.

When I considered that the fate of our entire empire rested on this woman’s shoulders, I was overcome by complicated feelings.

Before I could stop myself, I replied, “I suppose that is the fate of one born to be such a beauty, Your Majesty.”

For a moment, I was concerned that my comment might be taken as disrespectful.

However, the empress leaned closer to me, “The same goes for you, doesn’t it?” she whispered. “It’s hardly my place to be saying this, but you ought to duck out of this party sooner rather than later. In all honesty, I would have liked only to invite the soldiers, nobles, and mercenaries who helped out during the war, but before I knew it, there were plenty of perverted old men and sarcastic old women on the guest list.”

“Your Majesty, it is about time to be going,” said the retainer standing behind the empress.

“Bye for now. Please enjoy the party,” said the empress. After flashing me an enigmatic smile that looked exactly like one carved into an ancient statue, she walked away.

Once Her Majesty had left the mercenaries’ table, I saw that the nobles were starting to approach us again. I started to get worried, so I left the Rainbow Room as swiftly as possible.

As I made my way back to the large waiting room, I saw that a number of other people had also chosen to leave the venue.

One of them was Lambert Reargraz of Federhelm. He looked quite exhausted. When I noticed that he was by himself, I figured he must be waiting for his partner.

While Shelley left the waiting room to bring around my air-car, I changed clothes, packed away my formal gown, retrieved my gun, and headed for the exit to the palace. I knew that Shelley would be there waiting for me.

Though I’ve been to a lot of these parties, I still find them suffocating.

But Her Majesty has to put up with that kind of atmosphere all the time. I respect her from the bottom of my heart.

★★★

NPC No. 99: “Hey. I’ve got a pretty nice job for you... Would ya like to give it a shot? It pays serious bank! Don’t you want your future taken care of?”

Despite my efforts to learn more about the whereabouts of former marquess Fildeld Vastorg’s wife and son—which included visiting all the luxury hotels, large asteroid houses, and shady bars in the asteroid city—I hadn’t found a shred of information so far.

I guess this means they aren’t hiding out here.

If they were here, I’d expect their crew to be with them, and they’d surely leave a trail in that case, but I couldn’t even find a trace.

Despite that, they were spotted in this area... I wonder why. Could they have a base somewhere else near here?

It was with these thoughts on my mind that I headed back to the hangar where my ship was parked, intending to leave this fruitless asteroid city behind. But at that same moment, I was stopped by a suspicious-looking man. He was obviously a thug, but he was carrying a conspicuously expensive weapon.

“Hey. I’ve got a pretty nice job for you...” he began. “Would ya like to give it a shot? It pays serious bank! Don’t you want your future taken care of?”

The man had a carefree expression on his face, but he was still shady beyond belief.

“No, no, that sounds too good to be true.”

“I’m telling you, it’ll be fine. All you need to do is bring your own ship with you. You’re short of work too, aren’t ya? Just barely scraping by? I can tell.”

Well, I can tell that he wants me to see him as a nice guy, but he’s way too suspicious.

All that being said, it wasn’t like I had any leads on my mission yet. I decided to go along and check things out.

“Well... I guess things haven’t been too great lately...” I said meekly, pretending to believe him.

“Then it’s settled! Come to these coordinates tomorrow morning at six. You’d better not be late!” After transferring a set of coordinates in outer space to my Wrist-Com, the man quickly departed. As he hurried away, I heard him say, “All right! Just three more to go till I make my quota!”

I’ve already said this a bunch of times, but he’s just so obviously shady.

Even so, I wouldn’t have expected him to snag anyone with that spiel besides people like me who just want to see what’s going on. I’m surprised he got anyone to sign up.

At any rate, upon returning to my ship, I contacted Old Man Lohnes and asked him to inform the police and the army of what had just happened. Soon after, I received a message from the police and the army, informing me that a new navigation app had been installed on my Wrist-Com. They wanted me to make contact with this suspicious organization. I didn’t much like being monitored, but as I was too scared to refuse them, I accepted their instructions.

Guess I’ll buy a new unit when this is over...

The next day, after making my way to the designated coordinates, I saw quite a large number of ships already there. By my rough estimate, there were a hundred medium-class ships and two hundred lightweight craft. Since it would have been impossible for the man I met yesterday to gather this many people by himself, he must’ve been just one of a team of recruiters.

Soon, another ship sailed into view and broadcast an all-hands transmission.

“Sorry to keep you all waiting.” A young woman appeared on my ship’s monitor. She gave off the impression of being a stereotypical, supercompetent businesswoman. “Thank you all for assembling here today. My name is Luna Eleera. A certain nobleman has requested some human resources, so I have gathered them. I am pleased to see that so many people have joined us today.”

Miss Luna Eleera had a satisfied smile on her face, though I couldn’t help wondering where I had seen her before.

Wait... She has a new haircut, makeup, and clothes, so I didn’t recognize her at first, but...isn’t she Yuri Puliliera’s—aka Mr. Hero’s—older sister, Fadiluna Puliliera?

My reason for wondering this was not only because I had seen Fadiluna herself once, but the underlying structure of her face still matched the handbill for her arrest.

However, it was possible that this woman was just a dead ringer for her. I had heard of cases where, after someone had been arrested, further investigation revealed that the person brought in had only resembled the person the police were looking for. I had to play it safe.

It’s not like I could lay a finger on her under these circumstances anyway, though.

“Now, then, everyone. It’s time for us to head to the base of operations for this mission. Please follow my ship.”

After we had all obeyed her request, we found ourselves in a barren region of space about five hundred million kilometers away from the asteroid city.

I wondered what she was going to do next.

“All right, now please advance straight ahead,” she instructed.

As her own ship moved forward, a circle of light appeared in front of us. Her ship’s nose began to vanish little by little into the light.

This was the same phenomenon observed when using interstellar gates.

While a gate’s natural state was in a circle, gates tended to waver, so their shapes weren’t stable. Sometimes, they would even close up. That’s why stabilizers were typically used to maintain their shape.

This gate, however, didn’t have any stabilizers. You could always find stabilizers installed on ones maintained by the government. So, in other words, this was a gate that the government was unaware of, or at least one they simply weren’t managing at the moment.

With that in mind, it seemed likely that Miss “Luna Eleera” or one of her buddies had discovered it.

And based on eyewitness testimony I’d heard, there was supposed to be one more gate that connected to whatever was on the other side of this one that led back to here.

Simply discovering one gate and reporting it to the government could net you a hefty reward. If you were a noble, you might even go up a rank.

So, anyone who’d choose not to report a gate might well be using it to commit crimes. They could even be arrested on suspicion of criminal activity.

Though...there still were some who worried that receiving such a large reward would paint a target on their backs. Those types of people elected not to accept the reward even after reporting their discovery.

While I was pondering all that, “Luna Eleera” and her ship entirely disappeared into the gate. The people she’d gathered all followed after her, plunging into the gate one by one.

After glancing at my Wrist-Com, which was running the new navigation software, I rushed into the gate myself.

I arrived at Planet Rushellbart.

About eighty percent of the planet’s surface was covered in a jungle, dense with either thick undergrowth or towering trees that stood more than sixty meters in height. Though there were hardly any clearings on this planet, thanks to the combination of its atmosphere, the gravity, the period of its orbit, and the absence of any preexisting intelligent life-forms, it cleared all the criteria required to consider it habitable for humans.

However, not only was this planet home to some colossal, ferocious native fauna, but these creatures were also very fecund, and there were a lot of them. Whether one sought to wipe them all out or merely to keep them at bay, the cost of living there would quickly get out of hand, so the planet had been left entirely alone.

Incidentally, the hunter action game series Creature Hunter had been modeled after this world.

Anyway, the gate near the asteroid city led us here, to Planet Rushellbart.

In other words, if this “Luna Eleera” were working with the former Marquess Vastorg’s wife and son, then they would have had the opportunity to do their dirty deeds near the asteroid city before fleeing through the gate.

When Eleera finally headed from the local gate to Rushellbart’s surface, she and everyone following her maintained a relaxed pace, slowly heading toward the planet’s ocean.

Then, after arriving at one of the coasts, she gave us further instructions. “Please descend until you are just inches away from the surface of the ocean.”

After doing exactly as she asked, I discovered that, when viewed from the ocean’s surface, what had looked like jungle from above was in fact a gigantic ceiling. There were more than a hundred medium and heavy ships docked underneath it. It looked like an entire fleet had been docked on the ocean, and a three-dimensional hologram of a jungle had been projected on top of the ceiling.

I see... With this much tree cover on the planet already, no one would get suspicious if a bit more appeared.

And attacks from the native wildlife are much less likely on the water.

But I have heard that some of the giant fauna on this planet are aquatic, so they can’t totally let their guards down.

We were led to a vacant space on the ocean dock. Craft that could float landed right there, while ships that could not had flotation devices attached before docking.

Thankfully, my ship—the Patchwork—did float in water. In order for me to be able to take off again at a moment’s notice, I picked a spot to park my ship that was close to the exit and in a corner.

NPC No. 100: “I’ve trained him ever since we were children, so he was really easy to manipulate. He always doted on his big sister—he believed anything I told him without question and did whatever I said. If he isn’t broken yet, maybe I’ll find a way to use him again?”

After docking, I was about to take a quick rest when another call came through. They were addressing the entire assembly of ships.

“All new recruits are asked to assemble at the central vessel at once. I repeat, all new recruits, please assemble at the central vessel at once.”

This is more of a broadcast than a call, huh?

When I joined everyone at the central vessel as we’d been told, I was shown to an assembly hall inside the ship. Inside was something like a stage. Several people were standing on that platform.

One of those people, a young man, stepped forward to speak.

“It’s good to see you all here! I’m the pirate chief Enrique! Though I’m only a pirate now, I’m going to be emperor one day! Follow me, and you’ll have all the glory and riches you could ask for! A rosy future awaits you!” he announced in a loud voice.

For a moment, silence descended on the hall. It was soon replaced by clamorous voices.

Some of the new recruits had bought his story, hook, line, and sinker. They roared in triumph as they imagined the riches they were going to make as pirates.

Others laughed at the idea of this man who called himself Enrique becoming emperor. They had to wonder if everything was all right inside his head.

There were others still who were confused and angry—they’d believed they would be introduced to a respectable job here.

I, however, carefully observed the young man’s face after he’d finished addressing us. It was then that I realized that I recognized him from my files—he was Eibels Vastorg, the son of the former marquess.

No doubt about it—that “Luna Eleera,” or Fadiluna Puliliera, must have put him up to this.

And maybe that woman behind him is the former marquess’s wife? Mrs. Cronelia Vastorg?

But when I saw who was standing next to her, I had to do a double take. The person on the other side of Mrs. Vastorg was Mr. Hero, aka Yuri Puliliera. The same Yuri Puliliera whose older sister—Fadiluna Puliliera, or “Luna Eleera” as she was calling herself now—had once betrayed him.

After that last incident involving these two siblings, I heard that they had parted ways. What’s going on?

Besides, he seemed pretty devoted to Zaystall when I last saw him. I can’t imagine that he’d listen to anything his sister has to say anymore.

Maybe she has more than one brother?

Well, it sure looks like the chances of this “Luna Eleera” actually being Fadiluna Puliliera just shot up.

For some reason, a sumptuous banquet was arranged for us that night. I managed to slip out and send a message to Old Man Lohnes.

I’d written my message while considering the possibility that someone else might see it. At first, I had written, “Luckily, I managed to meet with our acquaintance,” which was code for “Target acquired.” But then I amended it to say, “Luckily, I managed to meet with our acquaintance. I also met with a hero.” That second sentence was code for “Have you seen Yuri Puliliera anywhere?”

If I’d sent the first draft, the old man’s reply would have simply been “Glad to hear it. You’re on vacation until XX o’clock on the XXth,” meaning that the police would arrive at that time on that day.

But when he received my amended message, he wrote back, “Glad to hear it. You’re on vacation until 1300 tomorrow. The hero’s here with us.” His coded message told me that Yuri Puliliera was actually on Ittsu.

Putting that aside, he’d told me that the police and military would be there the following afternoon.

Okay, but then who was that “Yuri” I just saw?

Well, the most likely explanation is that he’s one of Fadiluna’s other brothers, or someone else who just looks like him. Someone completely different could’ve had plastic surgery. Or it could even be an android built to look just like him.

Alternatively, and it would surprise me, but it could even be a clone of Fadiluna or Yuri. Cloning is forbidden by law, but if you hire someone working in the underworld, you can still get one made for you. It’s not entirely out of the question.

But...there’s no way the real Yuri is just a gender-swapped clone of his sister, right...?

In any case, I’d better keep my head down tonight.

At least, I meant to keep my head down, but an unthinkable incident occurred that night.

Back when I had been gathering intel in the asteroid city’s downtown area, I had spotted a group of self-styled protagonists roaming the streets. They had seemed to share the same thoughts as an ideological group I’d encountered once before, saying that arrogant aristocrats had to pay.

How had I known that they felt this way? I had picked it up from the discussion they’d been having as they’d sat in the outside terrace of a café. They had been reviewing their recent efforts.

I couldn’t tell whether they were mercenaries or not, but when I saw them again on Planet Rushellbart, I knew they must have gone along with one of those shady recruiters.

I then figured that, after noticing that the man who called himself Enrique the pirate chief was actually the son of former marquess Fildeld Vastorg—the mastermind of the rebel army—they had decided to wait until everyone else was asleep to infiltrate Vastorg’s quarters to try and capture him. But after they had been found out, they’d lost their cool and started one heck of a ruckus.

While I would have liked to feign ignorance and sleep through the night, when I saw one of the ships at the back of the dock fire up its engine to make an escape, I hurriedly steered my own ship forward.

Naturally, everyone else started panicking and also took off, like spiders fleeing a nest.

The mercenaries in our cohort who had intentionally infiltrated the plot, like I had, sought to take advantage of the pandemonium and joined the battle against Vastorg’s own forces.

Normally, I would have joined in as well, but I had one minor concern that prompted me to observe the scene from a slightly removed position.

Just as I’d anticipated, I noticed a lone battlecraft flee the fray.

I stealthily pursued that craft until it broke out into outer space. Once I was sure that we were outside the influence of the planet’s gravity, I attempted to disable the craft’s thruster nozzles and engines with pinpoint cannon fire. Unfortunately, the jig was up before I could pull it off.

“Can I help you?”

As expected, “Luna Eleera”—or Fadiluna Puliliera—appeared on my monitor.

“I’ve come from the Mercenaries Guild. As you have been working for the wife and son of former marquess Vastorg, I am required to arrest and detain you,” I said.

“They threatened me! They said if I didn’t obey them, they’d kill my little brother!” she yelled, immediately adopting a forlorn expression. “I’m a victim too, you know!”

I knew this move. She was trying to butter me up so I’d either let her go or sympathize with her so much that I’d become her ally.

“If that’s true...where is your brother now? Wouldn’t this have been his chance to escape too?”

“My brother...stayed back as bait, to give me a chance to get away!” she said sorrowfully, averting her eyes as she spoke. To me, that made her look all the more suspicious.

“I see. Even so, the fact remains that you took part in piracy,” I replied. “If you come quietly now, I’m sure you’ll be given a lighter sentence, seeing as you were coerced.”

If she truly had been threatened, that really might be considered an extenuating circumstance. Though she might object if I put it that way, coming quietly really would work to her benefit.

“But... I have another little brother, and he has a disease that is difficult to treat even with today’s medical science! For that boy’s sake, I can’t afford to get caught! I beg you! Please look the other way!”

However, she still seemed to object to my terms.

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid I can’t do that. I need to arrest everyone involved here.”

It was a lie to say “everyone,” but I really did have to arrest anyone central to what was going on.

She let out a long sigh. “So you really aren’t willing to look the other way... Normally, when a beauty like me begs for help, you’re supposed to let her go and even protect her, right? Even if you gave me everything you owned and swore absolute loyalty to me, an ugly piggy like you would still only be worth a single measly credit—so how can you refuse me? I just don’t get it!”

Her demeanor and tone of voice changed as she expressed her frustration at me. I wasn’t shocked—I’d already guessed that these were more or less her true feelings.

“Harboring a criminal is also a crime,” I reminded her. “It’s not something I’d normally do.”

“I’m not a criminal. That spoiled brat and his mother are the pirates! I was just meant to sit on that planet and wait while they did their work! I had no idea what they were doing!”

Without the slightest hint of remorse, she declared that she was guilty of no crime.

While it’s true that it seems like Vastorg’s wife and son were the ones committing the crimes, you were the one who fed them information and gathered recruits for them, right?

“Come to think of it, wasn’t that your brother standing next to Mrs. Vastorg?” I asked.

“Ah, that? That was an android. I had it made to look like him.”

“Like Yuri Puliliera, you mean?”

“You know my brother?”

“He’s pretty famous these days,” I told her.

I see... This all adds up. After his sister’s blunder made him an outcast at the guild, he started taking his work seriously. There’s no way he’d turn up here.

The next thing that Yuri’s sister, Fadiluna Puliliera, said absolutely floored me.

“I’ve trained him ever since we were children, so he was really easy to manipulate. He always doted on his big sister—he believed anything I told him without question and did whatever I said. If he isn’t broken yet, maybe I’ll find a way to use him again?”

I guess the real disaster in Yuri’s life was being born as this woman’s little brother. But it would take a lot of effort to explain to her that he’s seen through her now, and she probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. I won’t bother.

I figured it was pointless, but I gave her one final warning anyway. “At any rate, it would really be better if you came quietly,” I said.

“Don’t make me laugh. I may not look it now, but I was a Bishop-rank mercenary once! I’m not about to be taken down by a small fry like you!”

But, of course, my attempt was fruitless. Her ship quickly wheeled around, and she fired a beam at me head-on.

Of course, I’d never get hit by such a brazen attack. After making a sharp turn of my own, I came up behind her and fired my own beam. She dodged it easily.

This escalated into a dogfight, with each of us trying to take the other’s rear. Neither of us was landing a beam on the other.

She may have been promoted to Bishop rank through some shifty moves on her part, but when it comes to combat in a battlecraft, it looks like her qualifications are the real deal.

However, her maneuvers were becoming incredibly easy to predict. Perhaps it was because she was panicking. I waited for an opening, and I finally landed a direct hit on one of her rear thrusters.

But just when I thought that would be enough to get her to come along quietly, a beam rushed in from elsewhere and landed a direct hit on her ship’s hull.

NPC No. 101: “I simply did my duty as a soldier, so I need no thanks. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to file a report.”

Fortunately, one direct hit to the hull of Fadiluna Puliliera’s ship didn’t blow it to smithereens. It still retained its original shape.

As for why she hasn’t ejected from her cockpit yet, there’s a high chance that blow knocked her unconscious.

I turned my attention to where the beam that’d hit her had come from. Six Veltask battlecraft—a top-of-the-line model from the Tielsad Corporation—were approaching us. Then, I received a transmission from one of them that beggared belief.

“Hey, are you okay?” the man asked. “Looks like I fired just in the nick of time!”

For a moment, I struggled to comprehend what this man, who seemed to be their leader, was even talking about.

I realized that they were about to poach my collar, and that I couldn’t take that lying down. “Uh, no, she was the one in trouble. I was actually just about to finish her off,” I finally objected.

“What are you talkin’ about? You were fighting Fadiluna Puliliera, a former Bishop-rank merc. How could a guy like you ever beat her? If I’d come a moment later, you’d have ended up like her,” he shot back, immediately bringing up the subject of ranks. He showed no interest in what I had to say.

While we were talking, the man’s teammates ripped the cockpit out of Puliliera’s ship, including her escape pod.

Not long after, local police and garrison troops finally arrived on the scene.

I was glad they’d shown up, but there was still trouble to come.

The people the pirates had assembled had fled the planet like spiders fleeing a nest, but they had ended up being detained after crossing paths with a unit of police and other troops. Most of them had pleaded ignorance while obeying orders from the police and military, but some of them attempted to get away. Those people were shot down by the military’s battlecraft, though miraculously, there were no fatalities.

Some of the other mercenaries who’d tried to infiltrate the pirate plot like I had done had ended up having a disagreement with Vastorg’s main forces and the elite soldiers who suddenly stormed the compound. A three-way battle in close quarters had unfolded on the pirate base.

Both Eibels Vastorg—the former marquess’s son—and Cronelia Vastorg—the former marchioness—had gathered up their war funds and attempted to slip away undetected. But the leader of the self-styled protagonists I’d encountered earlier had insisted that he and his men had launched a surprise attack on the pair and captured them. His team had then started threatening the other mercs there, which caused a whole slew of new conflicts.

Well, their story about the ringleaders was probably mostly true, and even if they were lying, there’s no way for me to confirm that. I’ll just keep my mouth shut.

But with regards to the arrest of Fadiluna Puliliera, these guys were really just fabricating a story to serve themselves, so I was going to argue back.

“That man swooped in and stole my collar just as I was about to arrest Fadiluna Puliliera!” I yelled.

“What are you talkin’ about? If I hadn’t saved you, you would have been toast!” argued Oledo Gabright, the apparent leader of the group.

So it’s my word against his, huh? I thought. I was sure the majority of people would support Gabright, and I would just have to admit defeat, but...

A woman in a pilot suit chimed in to defend me. “What Mr. Ouzos says is absolutely right. Mr. Gabright there stole his target—his prey.”

“You’re wrong! I saw that he was in trouble and I rescued him!”

“You sat back and waited until Fadiluna Puliliera was on the back foot, looking for the perfect opportunity to swoop in and steal the credit for her arrest, didn’t you? I can provide video and audio evidence if you require it,” the woman offered.

“Th... That’s all fake, it’s gotta be!”

For a moment, Gabright flinched, but he managed to keep objecting to this charge. When the woman who had taken my side glared at him coldly, he backed off. And once she showed everyone her video and audio evidence, there was no longer any doubt that he had attempted to steal the credit for the arrest I’d made.

“Trying to take credit for the work of others is nothing other than folly. At the end of the day, you will only degrade your own value.”

“Grrr...”

When the woman glared at him again, Gabright looked up with a sour expression on his face but did not venture to speak again.

Incidentally, I recognized the woman from somewhere. I couldn’t remember where we’d met, but I had definitely seen her before.

While I was wondering who she could be, one of the police officers asked her to identify herself.

“I am Lieutenant Colonel Shuneira Flos of the First Fleet, the Central Fleet’s crusader squadron. When I came here on leave, I was approached by a peculiar job scout. With permission from my commanding officer, I commenced an undercover investigation of this operation,” she answered, showing the officers her ID. Naturally, the soldiers at the scene all snapped to attention, but so did the police officers.

When I heard her say that, I finally remembered where I’d seen her before. She had been the lady who’d been standing next to Admiral Jack Breskin when he had rescued me from my altercation with Barnekust. I’d taken her to be a secretary at that time.

If she hadn’t been here today, then I would have been overwhelmed by the pressure exerted by Gabright’s group. I would have lost the credit for Puliliera’s arrest, and I probably would have cried myself to sleep that night.

At any rate, I had to show some gratitude.

By way of thanks, I said to her, “Erm... Thank you so much for helping me.”

“I simply did my duty as a soldier, so I need no thanks. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to file a report,” she said and then briskly made her way back to the army’s ship.

First of all, the pirates’ recruits who had fled into outer space only to be intercepted by the police and army—but had gone quietly when they’d been arrested—were not perceived as a risk. They were released after being questioned. The ones who had gone on to try to escape arrest would apparently have to spend the night in jail.

Next were the mercenaries who had come here on a mission to find the former marchioness and her son—a group that included me. Though some of them had clashed with the army’s elite forces, there were no fatalities on either side. After giving the army some intel they’d gathered in their investigation, they were apparently let off easy.

Incidentally, Oledo Gabright seemed to get along well with the budding protagonists who had attacked the ringleaders of the pirate plot. They’d apparently gathered around the same table before the attack had taken place.

In the end, not only were the main culprits—meaning the former Marchioness Vastorg, her son, and Fadiluna Puliliera—arrested, but so were the former marquess’s private troops and some other people for whom the police had arrest warrants. Along with these mass arrests, two former nobles who had turned to piracy after the rebellion were also caught.

Because so many people had shared eyewitness accounts with the police, the reward only came to about 100,000 credits per person. But since I’d secured the arrest of Fadiluna Puliliera, that had earned me an additional reward of four million credits.

Incidentally, the gates the pirates had discovered were confiscated, owing to the fact that they had been found by criminals. I heard that they were going to be managed by the government going forward.

Though I was both mentally and physically exhausted, I managed to drag my weary body back to Planet Ittsu. Since I knew I wouldn’t want to go out again for a while if I went straight home, I decided to take care of a few errands first.

My first stop was Old Man Lohnes’s desk, where I was to receive my reward for providing information and arresting Puliliera during the mission.

“Sup? Long time no see.”

“Hey, you’re back,” he said. “Sounds like someone else tried to steal the credit for nabbing Fadiluna Puliliera.”

“Word travels fast, huh?”

If Old Man Lohnes already knew, then her brother—Yuri Puliliera, aka Mr. Hero—was bound to have heard as well. I’d better be careful; that could spell trouble.

Of course, Lohnes had no idea of my concerns, so he kept on talking.

“The truth is, the guy who tried to steal your collar was already considered to be trouble at another guild branch. He’s finally been busted. His MO was exactly what you experienced—waiting until a dogfight between battlecraft was just one more shot away from being over, then swooping in and delivering the final shot while claiming he did it to save the other mercenary. By getting his buddies to loudly back him up, he’s managed to snatch away many other people’s successes.”

“It’s amazing he managed to go this long without getting caught,” I said.

“I heard that, after running off with other mercs’ credit, he’d use his family’s authority to scare them into silence.”

Incidentally—and this came as no surprise to me—the team of mercs behind the attack on the ringleaders were all handsome men and gorgeous women. When pictured next to undercover agent Lieutenant Colonel Shuneira Flos, they’d paint a picture that the media was bound to be thrilled with.

Putting that aside, it looks like there were quite a lot of “legitimate aristocrats” who didn’t take part in the rebellion there.

“So, adding together the reward for the information you supplied and the reward for capturing Fadiluna Puliliera, your total pay comes to 4.1 million credits. Is data money okay?”

Regardless of the greater state of affairs, today, I just wanted to take care of my errands as quickly as possible and sleep to my heart’s content at home. After collecting my pay at the guild, I headed straight to my usual bank—the Palbea branch of Rasearche Bank, the same bank that took care of my father’s debt. One third of the 4.1 million credits I made from the mission—meaning 1.37 million credits—went to my parents.

My next stop was the fortune teller’s building downtown. I wanted to thank the old woman and tell her that her intuition had hit the mark.

Fortunately, there weren’t any female customers loitering nearby this time, so I was able to walk into the old woman’s shop without any awkwardness.

“My oh my. Looks like you made it back in one piece.”

“Yeah, somehow,” I replied. “I’m thankful to have had an old-timer’s intuition to rely on.”

In all honesty, I didn’t think I’d find the people I was looking for, so I was genuinely grateful to her.

“In that case, how about you give me a token of that gratitude?” said the crone, extending her open palm. I handed her the same amount the police had paid me for my intel—100,000 credits.

“My, aren’t you thoughtful?” she remarked. “Very well. While you’re here, let me read your fortune. Happy to hear about your luck in the workplace?”

“I’ll pass. I’m afraid whatever you say might come true.”

A prediction from someone with intuition as strong as hers might actually become reality. I was afraid to even hear it.

Gonzales’s place was my next stop, but on the way, I stopped at the usual butcher shop. I bought one of their new items to bring with me—“Nirvana Enrobed in Dead Flesh and Immersed in Grease.”

Once I got to Gonzales’s pharmacy, I told him about how someone had tried to steal the credit for my work.

“Honestly, there sure are a lot of people who want to get in your way, though it sounds like there are fewer than there used to be,” said Gonzales.

In between bites of “Nirvana Enrobed in Dead Flesh and Immersed in Grease,” he tapped away at the holo-keyboard of a laptop computer—a device I rarely saw him using. He was double-checking a prescription he’d written for a patient. Apparently, he reserved his desktop computer with its cyberspace interface for his work as an informant. As for prescriptions, he preferred to type those out by hand.

“I’m just glad I haven’t been killed yet,” I said.

A lot of people tried to get in my way back when I started out as a mercenary. There were times when I felt like giving in, but nowadays, it doesn’t really bother me.

“Come to think of it, I heard that Her Majesty’s reception came and went,” Gonzales commented.

“Yeah, I heard about it on the news.”

A grand reception had been hosted by Her Majesty for soldiers from the army and mercenaries who made notable contributions to the war effort. Only some photos from the event had been published by the media. Among those shots was one featuring Arthur, Seira, Lambert, and Rossweisse.

When I asked some of the attendees about it later, I was told the following.

According to Tielsad: “It was annoying like always, though I was grateful for the chance to be addressed personally by Her Majesty.”

Arthur told me: “It was an honor to be addressed personally by Her Majesty, but after that, I was surrounded by women... It was very trying...”

As for Seira: “Her Majesty is a magnificent person. She gifted us words of encouragement and gratitude and asked us for our continued collaboration in the future. On the other hand, there were these awful noblewomen. They swarmed the Ebony Devil and Arthur, saying how they’d take very good care of them! It looked like that fellow from Federhelm managed to slip away, though...”

Lambert said the following: “After receiving some kind words from Her Majesty, I raced for the restroom. I couldn’t hold on for very long in that kind of environment...”

Lastly, Rossweisse said: “Gerhilde didn’t end up coming. If I’d known she wouldn’t go, I wouldn’t have attended either. Even though it was a reception to celebrate victory in battle, there were still men there who had nothing to talk about besides their families’ status or their assets.”

Judging from what they all had to say, it must have been pretty tough.

Man, I’m so glad I’m the kind of guy who never gets invited to those things.

☆☆☆

Aside: Shuneira Flos

When I’d applied to take some leave from duty after the rebellion had been crushed and had gone to visit a friend who lived in the asteroid city, I had never imagined that I’d get caught up in what transpired.

Though I could have left well enough alone, when I suspected that the pirates might have had something to do with Marquess Vastorg—the mastermind of the rebellion—I discussed the matter with Admiral Breskin, my commanding officer.

“Go and infiltrate their base,” he had said, so I apologized to my friend and went undercover. Upon doing so, I realized I’d hit the jackpot.

The mercenaries who launched the first attack on the ringleaders resorted to terribly crude methods, but their assault was still a success.

But, unsurprisingly, there were still gaps in our ranks, so one of the ringleaders managed to escape. When I left in pursuit of her, it appeared that someone else must have also been alerted to her presence. That person cut off her escape route and was engaging her in a dogfight.

Just when the ringleader’s opponent was about to land a decisive shot, some mercenaries who had arrived before me—and who I’d thought were just rapt by the action unfolding in front of them—swooped in at the last moment, attacking the ringleader and trying to steal credit for her arrest. By providing some footage I’d filmed during my undercover investigation, I was able to prove their misconduct.

But what really shocked me was the identity of the person who had stopped the ringleader. It was a man named John Ouzos, whom my commanding officer had ordered me to investigate a little while ago. After seeing how he handled himself in a dogfight, I realized his maneuvers would not be out of place among the military’s ace pilots.

Though I had piloted a battlecraft myself in the past, I knew I couldn’t compare to him.

It would appear that Admiral Breskin wasn’t mistaken when he decided to keep an eye on him.

In any case, I had better include this in my report.

☆☆☆

Aside: Third-Person Perspective

Sitting in an office in the imperial military’s headquarters reserved for admirals, Jack Baldo Breskin looked through the report submitted by Lieutenant Colonel Shuneira Flos. His typical fierce expression was replaced by an even more intense grin.

“He took out the thrusters of a Bishop-rank merc in one hit, huh? Even if he did it in order to sell the target’s ship later, not many would attempt something like that. Plus, he didn’t hit anything apart from the thruster nozzles. After going to the trouble of calling up the Mercenaries Guild and looking through his past records—under the strictest secrecy, mind you—I didn’t see that many noteworthy missions in his file,” said Breskin, cheerfully sharing the contents of his subordinate’s report with the person in front of him.

“But if one were to describe his work ethic in one word, I would say he has been solid. He had a few mishaps early on, but just looking at his combat record when hunting down pirates in particular, in ninety-seven percent of cases in the past three years, he has succeeded in disabling his opponents’ ships by destroying only their thruster nozzles or their armaments. After seeing some footage of him in action, I can only describe his skills as exemplary.”

This person, who had joined Admiral Breskin in his review of Lieutenant Colonel Flos’s report, was a woman who looked to be a good deal younger than the admiral. She had purple eyes and long blonde hair that she wore in a swept-back style. It was gathered in a ponytail that rested at the back of her neck. A badge on the collar of her uniform showed her to be a lieutenant, and next to her stripes was an insignia that showed she was an instructor within the military.

“He certainly must be quite the pilot for you to say all that, Coach Mishelia Browbull,” said the admiral cheerfully. “After all, you are the battlecraft pilot who was feared as the Gleaming Crimson Blade in your heyday, and you’re still feared today as the ‘Ogre’ of the pilot school’s instructors.”

Lieutenant Browbull sighed heavily. “Admiral Breskin, Your Excellency, could you please stop referring to me as ‘Coach’? You far outrank me.” She made her feelings clear, albeit with a look of partial resignation.

“You helped me cram for my tests back at the academy, so I’m not wrong, am I?”

“Despite coming from a noble family, you were always on the verge of failing,” she replied. “It’s a wonder that you ever managed to make admiral.”

“That was thanks to a mix of my performance in battle, and—as much as it pains me—my family.”

These two had been classmates at the military academy. One was the son of a marquess, the other a daughter of commoners. But they had once overcome their differences in gender and social status to become friends on equal footing—and for a time, their relationship had been even closer than that. Now, they were old war buddies who had seen their share of action on the battlefield.

“So, what do you make of him?” asked Breskin, tapping his finger on the report on John Ouzos that sat on his desk.

“I can only base my judgment on the documents and videos that are available to me, but speaking as a flight instructor, I would have to grade him as ‘excellent.’ He has no substantial weaknesses, but as I don’t detect any potential for further development, I can’t class him as higher than ‘excellent’ either. Looking at him as an active pilot, I’d have to say it would be extremely vexing to encounter him as an enemy,” replied Lieutenant Browbull. Her eyes displayed the same sharpness she once had as an active pilot.

“If you feel the need to say that much, then I guess I can consider him quite able.”

“If I had to describe him in one word, I’d call him a craftsman. He has likely honed his skills through a series of uninteresting missions. I can understand why you would want him as a recruit,” said Lieutenant Browbull, giving the smiling admiral her seal of approval.

“But knowing his type, I don’t think we’ll get him on board,” the admiral admitted. “He doesn’t seem to have the best impression of the military.”

“Then why carry out this assessment?”

“It doesn’t hurt to know what our options for reinforcements are in an emergency, right?” The admiral then got out of his chair and walked over to a cabinet on the other side of the room. “There are a few others whose files I’d like you to look over, so stick around a little longer.”

The admiral retrieved a bottle of whiskey, a pair of glasses, and an ice pail from the cabinet.

When Lieutenant Browbull saw this, she let out a heavy sigh. “I see your habit of bringing in contraband hasn’t changed since your academy days,” she said, accepting a glass of whiskey and ice from the admiral.

“You say that, but you still have some more time, don’t you?”

“As long as it’s work-related, yes.”

A clear sound resounded throughout the office as the admiral and the lieutenant clinked their glasses together.

☆☆☆

Aside: Another Third-Person Perspective

In the imperial palace, the empress was joined by a number of senior ministers in a conference room. All of them were exchanging serious expressions as they proceeded with their meeting.

Two hours had already passed since the meeting had begun. While the first items on the agenda had been dealt with swiftly, those at the end of the meeting had been drawn out.

The current agenda item being discussed was “The Empire’s Policy Following the Defeat of the Rebellion.”

“Our first priority should be to retaliate against the Kingdom of Planet Nekirelma without delay! There is conclusive evidence that they were behind this rebellion!” shouted the environment minister, a well-known war hawk.

“What are you talking about?! What we need now is stability at home! Through revoking titles, imprisonment, and execution, we have greatly reduced the number of foolish nobles in our empire. Now, we have to work to restore everything that was damaged as a result of their greed! Moreover, some of the families of nobles who took part in the rebellion have turned to piracy, and they are continuing to create unrest throughout the empire!” shouted the finance minister, well known for quibbling over the budget.

A number of other ministers around the table joined in to raise their own objections.

“So what do you propose to do if they take advantage of this opening and invade?!”

“Only about half of our imperial army took part in the war against the rebellion. Even those troops that were deployed came home almost completely unscathed!”

“But our generals are fatigued, and the fleets have used up their ammunition!”

“If we deploy that new weapon under the command of the Seventh Fleet, Nekirelma will hardly count as a threat. They’ll be so frightened that they won’t dare attack us again!”

“That is what I call complacency!”

“Surely it’s the leaders of Nekirelma who are being complacent? They must think we still have our hands full cleaning up what’s left of the rebellion.”

“Even so, to invade their kingdom now...”

“That’s enough!” cried the empress in the midst of the heated debate that had broken out in the conference room.

Silence immediately descended over the room and remained until the empress spoke once more.

“Retaliating against the Kingdom of Planet Nekirelma, maintaining order, and revitalizing our empire’s economy—all of these initiatives are vital,” she said. “We cannot afford to shirk these duties. But as long as we bicker among ourselves, that is what will provide an opening our opponents can exploit. Now, with regards to plans, Duke, let us hear your proposal again.”

The elderly duke had been silent up until that point, but when the empress turned her gaze to him, he rose to his feet.

“Gentlemen, both of your concerns are important to us, and we cannot neglect either of them. So as for what we should do about it... Those who are wary of the Kingdom of Planet Nekirelma should endeavor to secure our borders and revitalize the colonies on the frontier. But we mustn’t strike first. We must wait as long as we are able and let our opponents attack first in order to give ourselves an excuse to wage war. The rest of you should work to restore your own territories and those of your neighbors. Then, when the invasion from Nekirelma finally begins, have the smallest possible garrisons remain within your territories and meet Nekirelma in battle with your forces. With this policy, both camps’ wishes should be granted,” said the duke, announcing a compromise that seemed to respect both sides’ concerns.

The ministers all looked astonished.

“Just what we’d expect of His Excellency the Duke! What a magnificent proposal!” nearly everyone in attendance cried in appreciation.

The empress, who had been waiting for this moment, immediately moved to bring the meeting to its conclusion.

“Very well. Please convey our plan to every noble in the empire. As soon as you have all made the necessary preparations, begin implementing it at once!”

“As you wish, Your Majesty!” the ministers cried.

The drawn-out meeting finally came to an end.

With the meeting having concluded, the empress headed along a corridor to her office.

“Are you sure about this, Your Majesty?” asked the duke. “That proposal was your idea. For me to present it as my own...” He wondered whether it was really acceptable for him to take credit for the plan, rather than its originator.

“I don’t mind. If I’d presented it, they surely would have dismissed it as ‘a proposal from a slip of a girl’...but they were all ready to accept it if it came from you, great-uncle. After all, we can neither dismiss the importance of stability within our borders nor our readiness to defend the empire from external threats. And besides, anyone might have thought of that,” replied the empress with a smile.

When he saw the expression on her face, the duke looked at the empress not as her minister, but as her kindly older family member.

“Hmmm. Your Majesty, as long as my creaking bones can assist you in governing the empire, there is nothing else I need to say.”

“Thank you very much, great-uncle.”

At that moment, the two did not look like a minister and his monarch, but rather an older gentleman and his grandniece.

★★★

NPC No. 102: “I’ve only just started working as a mercenary, but I hope we can get along as colleagues.”

The day after I went to Gonzales’s place, I dropped my ship off at Pops’s shop for maintenance and then decided to take care of a bunch of jobs around the house.

The first thing I absolutely had to do was clean my apartment. Since I was away so often, I sometimes thought about getting a cleaning robot to take care of this chore. However, doing it myself each time I came home from a mission—anachronistic though it may have been—helped me feel that I still had a normal life there. That was why I had purposely chosen not to get one.

Then, there was the garbage. Though it didn’t pile up while I was away on a mission, it was undoubtedly going to start accumulating starting today. I figured I’d take it out on the day I’d depart for my next mission.

As for the laundry, for missions where I had to spend a week or more sleeping in my ship, I typically washed my clothes using my ship’s shower. Or, if there happened to be an inhabited asteroid or colony nearby, I would go to one of the laundromats there.

This last mission had taken a week, and since laundromats had been available at the mission site, I had taken my dirty clothes there on one occasion. That had left me with only two days’ worth of laundry, but I still much preferred to just take care of it now.

Once I was done with that, I went grocery shopping. For the time being, I just wanted to buy ingredients for a few days’ meals as I knew I’d have to be careful about buying too much. If I stocked up too much, it would only go to waste.

Once I was finished at the supermarket, it was already afternoon, so I started cooking my lunch. Well, I called it cooking, but I would just be making some basic bachelor food. I tended to make simple things and included a lot of prepared side dishes.

After lunch, it was finally time for me to indulge in my hobbies. I kicked back while browsing discussion sites and official anime sites. I also watched some videos.

After enjoying that kind of lifestyle for about two days, I felt like I’d had my fill. On the third day, I got ready to get back to work.

First, I did my laundry, cleaned my apartment, and sorted my trash. Once that was done, I made breakfast and lunch in order to use up any ingredients that were left in the fridge. When that was all finished, I had to pack clothes, light novels, manga, and the like to load onto my ship. I also paid my rent to my landlord.

Wanting to avoid creating any more trash, I went out for dinner that evening. Any garbage I did end up making once I went home could go in the dumpster in the basement that night.

That night, instead of spending time surfing the Net and such, I went to bed early.

As soon as I woke up and got dressed the next morning, I left my apartment. I figured I’d get breakfast at a café or fast-food joint.

Then, after picking up my ship at Pops’s garage, I headed to the Mercenaries Guild. Upon arriving there and parking my ship in the hangar, I walked over to a fuel stand and filled up my ship’s tank.

When that was done, it was finally time to head to a receptionist. Of course, I picked Old Man Lohnes’s counter.

“Hey. Did you make the most of your vacation?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess so, though it was kinda the same as always.”

“A lot of those disgraced nobles have already been caught, so I bet we can find one or two of the jobs you prefer now.”

Old Man Lohnes proceeded to pick out a few of the available missions from his list, showing them to me as he went.

“Aha. This one looks good,” I murmured.

This was the mission description that had caught my eye.

Task description: To provide security on a worksite for colony disassembly.

Task duration: Approximately 15 days according to galactic standard time.

Three groups will take turns performing 8-hour shifts, followed by 16 hours on standby.

Work environment: The contractor will be entitled to the free use of the accommodations (capsule-style hotel) and free meals in the accompanying administrative colony.

Fuel will be provided for the contractor’s spaceship.

Work conditions: Contractor must bring their own spaceship.

Contractor will be liable for any repair costs in the event that their spaceship is damaged.

In the event of an emergency, contractor will be required to sortie and resolve the problem, even when on standby.

Due to the above requirement, contractor is not permitted to leave the colony while on standby.

Compensation: 300,000 credits (fixed)

In short, this was a textbook security detail job. I wondered if there might be an opportunity to pick up a little extra money on the side again, by collecting debris or something.

“Right, sign me up for this.”

“Security for a colony disassembly site? Sounds like your kind of mission,” said Old Man Lohnes. He gave me a slightly ironic smile as he carried out the application procedure.

Planet Sanomelkota—formerly within the territory of Viscount Setark but now controlled by Baron Dutsless—was habitable by humans, at least in terms of its atmospheric composition and gravity. But due to the presence of extremely numerous and ferocious native fauna whose like was rarely seen throughout the galaxy, it had been developed not for habitation, but for tourism.

The colony that was to be disassembled during this mission had been set up as a base camp for the tourism industry. The facility had become dilapidated and had reached the end of its service, but Viscount Setark—the ruler of the planet at that time—had used the funds allocated for its disassembly to feed his personal desires. There had been so little money left over that the planet couldn’t even afford to dispose of the colony by dropping it into a star.

However, when Viscount Setark had taken part in the recent rebellion, his forces had been crushed. Baron Dutsless had become the new ruler of his territory as a result.

When Baron Dutsless came into power, he not only invested his own money to remove anything inside the colony that could be reused and put it up for sale, but he also arranged for the colony itself to be sold off for recycling. By doing this, he not only recovered his own investment and replenished the planet’s funds that had been squandered, but he also created some temporary employment opportunities.

Or at least, that was what I had learned from Gonzales before setting off on my mission.

Of course, in order to provide a satisfactory work environment for the laborers, an administrative colony had been set up too. It was going to be used as a base of operations and was packed with amenities. I’d be staying there for the duration of my work as well.

This colony contained three “islands” that were each a little shorter than your typical cylindrical colony. While two of these served simply as spaceports, more than half of the remaining island was occupied by a colossal building that contained accommodation facilities, places to eat and drink, facilities for relaxation, sporting facilities, and a number of event halls, big and small, that could serve a variety of purposes. The rest of the space on that island was taken up by parks—to provide some greenery—and warehouses.

Unfortunately, there was no debris work for me to help out with this time.

After receiving a sheet of guidelines and my shift timetable at the administrative colony, I got to work right away.

Nothing happened for the first two days. But after my shift on the third day, something I would consider an incident occurred.

It happened after my shift had ended. I had just eaten dinner and taken a bath, and when I was on my way back to my room...

“Excuse me, sir.”

Someone called out and stopped me in the corridor.

“Um... What is it?”

The person who had stopped me was a girl, probably about high school age. She was wearing a moss-green pilot suit and had pale brown skin, golden eyes, and black hair tied back in a ponytail. She was a little shorter than me too.

Since it wasn’t illegal for a minor to work as a mercenary, as long as she hadn’t been pressed into serving like I had been back in my school days, then there wasn’t a problem as far as I could tell.

When I stopped to talk to her, her posture changed, and she snapped into a stiff, upright stance.

Then, with a serious expression, she asked, “Am I right in thinking that you are Mr. John Ouzos?”

I had a terrible feeling about this, but since it looked impossible for me to weasel my way out of this encounter, I gave her an honest answer.

If I lie here, she could find out instantly by checking the work register.

“Yes... I am, but...”

“I see. My name is Shiora Diloparz. I’ve been looking for you.”

“What is the nature of your inquiry?” I asked.

“I took part during the recent rebellion, in that battle that resulted in its defeat. As my father, Baron Auschin Diloparz, was confined to his sickbed during the rebellion, I joined the rebel army in his place. And you were the one to shoot me down. Fortunately, I ejected successfully and managed to survive,” explained Diloparz. She kept a calm expression even as she related this shocking fact to me.

Well, once I knew this girl was looking for me, I figured it wouldn’t be good news.

“Huh... Is that so...?”

I reached down for my pistol, slowly, so as to avoid alerting her.

We mercenaries often said, “Whatever happens on the battlefield, don’t bear a grudge,” but sometimes, they were unavoidable. Nobles had a particularly strong tendency to bear them anyway.

That being said, I didn’t want to get killed. Shoot-outs weren’t my strong suit, but I had no option but to try.

Or so I thought.

She spoke again with that same calm expression on her face. “But, because of that, I wasn’t around to get shot down by that silver battlecraft with black lines on it, the one with that crimson beam. Besides, it was my own lack of experience that led to my getting shot down. That doesn’t give me a reason to bear a grudge against you, and my father always told me not to bear grudges over what happens on the battlefield.”

Shiora Diloparz made it clear that she had no intention of attacking me.

Well, I guess she was better off getting hit by my cannons than Gerhilde’s Prominence Arrow... I suppose, anyway?

In any case, since she didn’t seem intent on attacking me, I moved my hand away from my pistol.

“So, what business do you have with me?” I inquired.

If you’re not looking to pay me back for shooting you down, what on earth do you want?

“Thankfully, I was shown mercy by Her Majesty and remain a free woman. My father has also recovered from his illness. Originally, I had planned to finish my secondary studies at the Imperial Academy of Lutoramu, specializing in spaceship combat, before joining the military. But since I dropped out to join the rebel army, it feels too painful to go back to school or join the army. I thought I’d do my part to uphold order in the empire as a mercenary instead.”

I wonder if her school told her to forget about coming back if she joined the rebels.

I feel like she didn’t actually have much choice, so if she still wanted to complete her studies or join the army, it wouldn’t be a problem. But maybe she feels like she already drew a line in the sand.

I was starting to think, She’s really had it tough, huh? But the next thing she said left me utterly confused.

“And so then I wondered just what this ‘Khaki,’ meaning the one who shot me down, was like. That’s why I came to talk to you.”

Eh? Why? Even if you weren’t bearing a grudge against me, would anyone normally want to meet the person who shot them down?

But maybe the fact that she remembered me by my nickname—based on the color of my ship—and went to the trouble of tracking me down means that she really is holding a pretty strong grudge. Could this be a declaration of war? Is she aiming to take revenge by destroying my career?

As these thoughts raced through my mind, I was still utterly confused.

“I’ve only just started working as a mercenary, but I hope we can get along as colleagues,” she said before giving me a firm salute and grinning broadly.

NPC No. 103: “And in the very first place, I don’t recall ever giving you permission to use my name in so familiar a manner.”

Another five days had passed since that girl, Shiora Diloparz, had come to introduce herself to me...

After that incident, nothing more of note happened.

As the two of us shared the same shifts and breaks, I braced myself for her to change her tune and harass me in various ways, but that didn’t end up being the case. All that happened was that we exchanged brief greetings when we passed each other in the hallways or the cafeteria.

Speaking plainly, this was so jarring that I wondered what the pressure I had felt when we’d first met could have been.

The calmer she appeared to be when I saw her, the more I feared what she might be getting up to when I wasn’t looking.

If I were an oblivious protagonist, deaf to my surroundings, then I’d probably walk in on her changing or something while investigating her activities, and we’d end up growing closer as a result. But in my case, I was sure she’d go straight to the police if that happened, so it would definitely be better for me not to investigate.

If possible, I wanted the rest of my time here to go by without incident.

But it turned out I was naive to hope for that.

Something happened on the sixth day after she had introduced herself to me.

My shift had ended, and I was just leaving the cafeteria after having a meal there when I suddenly found the way out blocked by a young man about Miss Diloparz’s age. He wasn’t a mercenary, but one of the workers disassembling the old colony.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

The youth suddenly unleashed a barrage of abuse. “Damn you... After what you did to her, you have some nerve loafing around here!” he cried.

For a moment, I wondered what he was talking about, but I quickly comprehended his meaning.

I figured I’d at least try playing dumb.

“Her, you say... Who do you mean?”

“I’m talking about Shiora!” he shot back. “You’re the one who took down Shiora, right?! I’ve seen her looking at your ship from time to time!”

I see, so it’s come to this...

It sounds like she told him a pretty embellished story about how I came to shoot her down.

But because this young man had raised his voice, he had also attracted the attention of the people around us. A crowd was starting to form.

At this rate, while the other mercenaries may not side against me, the colony workers definitely will.

“Erm... As you are neither a mercenary nor a military man, you may not know this, but there’s an unwritten rule that we don’t harbor resentment over what happens on the battlefield,” I said.

“Like I care! Do you expect me to forgive someone like you for trying to kill her?!”

“I mean, if it had happened on the street, it’d be a terrible crime. But it happened on the battlefield.”

“Well, you should have been the one to be shot down by her!”

Ah... This is bad. I can’t reason with him.

It looks like this youth is cut from the same cloth as Yuri Puliliera. I guess you’d call him a hot-blooded man of justice.

Guys like him will listen to what girls have to say. They’ll listen to girly boys or guys who look upstanding too. But they tend not to listen to ugly or stern-looking men.

I didn’t think he and I could really have a discussion here. I knew that anything I said would only fuel his anger.

I could shut him up with my blaster at minimum power, but since he’s unarmed, it’s not like I can shoot him. For starters, if I discharge a firearm on the street or inside a colony under anything except emergency conditions, I’m liable to get arrested by the police. Moreover, it’s likely to leave everyone around us with a poor impression of me.

I have to say, he has some nerve picking a fight with an armed mercenary, though.

This is just a guess, but he’s probably had a fair bit of experience in fighting. Plus, he knows I can’t use my gun while we’re on the colony, and he’s judged from my appearance that I’d be weak in hand-to-hand combat. Well, I’m definitely not strong.

I bet he’s thinking that I only managed to shoot down Shiora by relying on some dirty trick, like sneaking up on her or something, even though that’s normal practice on the battlefield.

At any rate, there’s no reason I should let him hit me, but I don’t want to have to listen to what other people will say if I turn tail and run. What to do here...?

While I was considering my options, Shiora Diloparz herself appeared on the scene.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

Has she come to see how the harassment she set up for me is going?

The youth spotted her. “Ah, Shiora! This is the guy who took out your ship, right? I knew it as soon as I noticed you glaring at his ship! He’s just walking around right now, so this is your chance to take your revenge! I’ll help!” said the youth, suggesting that the two of them should gang up on me with a breezy smile.

Next, I knew that she was going to thank him with a pleasant smile of her own. Then, she’d turn to me with a look of rage and join him in launching some kind of attack against me.

At least, that was what I was expecting, but...

“Since I sided with the rebel army in the recent war, I was shot down by a mercenary employed by the imperial army. But as we were on opposing sides on the battlefield, that was a completely natural thing to occur.”

To my surprise, she maintained the same calm expression she had before and gave an exemplary response for a soldier or mercenary.

The youth, in stark contrast, appeared to have a scorching fire raging in his soul.

“But...! Shiora, one wrong move and you could have died, right? You’re totally the victim here! Let’s take this bastard down right now, while we have the chance!”

The girl proceeded to calmly refute the young man’s claims. “On the battlefield, the taking of lives is to be expected. I shot down about a dozen ships myself during that battle. From the perspective of anyone who survived my attacks, perhaps I ought to be taken down.”

“Ah...”

When he heard this, the youth finally seemed to realize that some people might have survived being shot down by Shiora, and they might bear a grudge against her as well.

“In the first place, when did I ever say that I resented the mercenary who beat me?” said Miss Diloparz as she took a step toward the youth. She remained calm, but a note of anger crept into her voice. “It’s true that I was frustrated about being defeated, but that was merely the result of my own lack of experience. On the battlefield, you should count yourself lucky as long as you don’t die. I don’t resent the person who beat me. I’m sure I made that clear to everyone, including you, when I was telling my side of the story. I don’t recall mentioning his name or distinguishing features then either. So how can you be so sure that this was the person who shot me down?”

She continued to approach the youth while exerting an incredible amount of pressure on him.

“B-But... Haven’t you been glaring at this bastard’s ship now and then?!”

“I wasn’t glaring at it. I was simply curious, since it’s a type of ship I haven’t flown before.”

The young man had shared what he thought was conclusive evidence that I was the culprit, but Diloparz had dismissed it at a stroke.

Judging from their exchange, while she had shared some details of what had happened, she hadn’t mentioned my name.

“And in the very first place, I don’t recall ever giving you permission to use my name in so familiar a manner,” she snapped. At this point, her expression was one of open fury.

Even though these two were about the same age, she had undergone training to become a soldier—and, on top of that, had actual experience in battle—while he was merely a laborer who was good in a fight. I didn’t think there would be any contest between them.

Seeing that the young man was devastated by the revelation that she didn’t even consider him a friend, I left him standing there and headed back to my room.

But for some reason, Diloparz followed me.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Ouzos. This never would have happened if I hadn’t shared my story...” she said, apologizing for the commotion.

“Nah. That guy really put me on the spot, so you actually saved me.”

As a matter of fact, she really did.

If she hadn’t intervened, then it would have ended with me getting hit or him getting shot. Either way, there would have been at least one casualty.

It was becoming clear that she had no intention of exacting revenge on me—at least, not for the time being.

In that case, maybe I’ll ask her about something that’s kind of been bothering me...

NPC No. 104: “Yeah, yeah. I guess you win. I mean, I have no intention of going near her ever again. Yep. Show’s over.”

“Ah. There was just one little thing I wanted to ask you. You don’t mind, do you?”

Only after making sure that there was no one else around did I stop in my tracks and strike up a conversation with Miss Diloparz.

She stopped walking too. “That’s fine. What is it?”

“How did you manage to find me?”

This was the number one mystery on my mind.

Not only had I taken down a fair number of battlecraft during the war—manned and unmanned craft included—but there were plenty of other mercs around me who had put up much the same results.

Furthermore, one had to pay attention to what was happening all around oneself on the battlefield. It would surely be difficult to confirm the identity of just one foe.

While straightening her posture, she answered my question.

“I knew that my squadron was facing off against the Eleventh Fleet,” she began. “Since the regular troops all had battlecraft with matching specifications, I knew that your ship—which didn’t match—had to belong to a mercenary. Once I knew that, I just asked an acquaintance of mine in the army. I was able to recall the color of your ship, after all.”

I see. Nothing unusual about someone in the military knowing where I was stationed.

Even so, it was pretty amazing that she could recall any characteristics of a foe she encountered on that battlefield.

I asked about the next thing that was on my mind. “I see. Just one more question, then. When we first met, you called me ‘Khaki,’ but you spoke with a nuance suggesting that that wasn’t just about the color of my ship... So what was that about?”

She had pronounced the word describing my ship’s color almost as if it were an alias.

When it came to a mercenary’s alias—or in other words, their nickname—though the standards weren’t exactly spelled out anywhere, they were only assigned to people who had achieved at least Bishop rank and who had fairly significant track records.

The only exception I could think of was Lambert—or, in reality, Rossweisse. If you displayed the kind of prowess they had, you could receive one sooner.

Incidentally, if I were to ever try introducing myself with an alias before even making Bishop rank, I had no doubt that I would be laughed out of the room.

For some reason, Diloparz seemed excited by my question.

“This is also according to my acquaintance in the military, but I was told that a group of soldiers within our forces, the one you were up against, called you by that alias,” she explained.

Why? All I did was work plainly but solidly behind the scenes. Why would they assign me an alias?!

And I’m only at Knight rank!

Well, it’s not like our foes cared about our mercenary ranks. Unless I told them, they wouldn’t have even known.

But the silver lining is that only a few of them were using it.

On the other hand, her acquaintance in the military was aware of it. Could it be that Lieutenant Commander Barnekust also knows? If so, then he’ll definitely try to recruit me again. Ah, what a pain.

Well, I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it...

Lastly, I came to the most crucial question of all.

“I only have one more question for you. Why did you talk to that guy about what happened?”

By telling her story, though she had risked alerting others to the fact that she had fought on the side of the rebellion, it gave her a prime opportunity to leak information about me to a third party. She’d probably chosen to give her account of the war, having foreseen what kind of action the young man would take, so she could then throw him to the wolves when things turned ugly.

That was only a guess on my part, but if that were true, then she was one wicked woman.

“Well... At first, I wasn’t talking to him, but I was just chatting to some fr—well, some of the part-time disassembly workers. They were girls around my age, and we became friends. Then, one of them asked why I became a mercenary. At first, I refused to answer, but then they insisted, so I told them...”

When she started telling her story, I noticed that she seemed quite pleased for some reason.

Perhaps she hadn’t made too many friends up till then and wasn’t really used to talking to other women around her age?

“But for some reason, that man showed up in the middle of our conversation. And to top it off, he approached me in this overly familiar way...”

I see. So that youth is a walking social disaster zone.

And by that, I meant the kind of person who immediately spoke to everyone casually, even if they were meeting them for the first time. The type who would barge their way into an ongoing conversation without being invited. “A walking social disaster zone” was my own individual term for such people.

According to ancient texts, there used to be a more brief way to refer to such people.

While I knew myself that I was being prejudiced, I had encountered plenty of people like that before. They’d caused me a lot of trouble.

But...putting aside the fact that the young man had happened to be nearby at the time, it was ultimately this girl’s decision to share her story that had put me in a bind here.

And while I didn’t know how effective it would be, I felt I had to say something.

“If you’re really sorry about what happened today, I’d be grateful if you avoided sharing personal stories that might be misinterpreted by guys like that from now on,” I told her. “Also, to keep an appropriate distance between the two of us, I think we should go back to how things were before. Can we go back to just briefly acknowledging each other when we happen to pass each other in the halls? I think that would be better for both of us.”

“Very well. I shall bear that in mind from now on and watch what I say,” she replied. She also saluted for some reason.

That was a very tame response, but...can I trust her?

Though if her manner just now was all calculated, I’d be so scared I wouldn’t know what to do.

The next six days after that passed without incident.

The disassembly of the old colony was progressing well. The job was expected to be completed on time and on the final scheduled day of work.

Miss Diloparz kept a greater distance from me than she had previously, and though I didn’t confirm it, she seemed to have stopped peering at my ship now and then.

I hoped that my time here would end without any more trouble.

But on the morning of the final day of my contract, that young man showed his face once again.

I had no doubt that he was going to be a nuisance, but I figured he wouldn’t go away if I simply refused to talk to him.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Face me in a VR dogfight! This is a contest!”

For one moment, I wasn’t even sure what he’d said.

The idea of him challenging a mercenary with real experience piloting a battlecraft to a dogfight—albeit in VR—already made me wonder what was wrong with him. And I couldn’t understand why he wanted to make it a contest.

“Eh? Why?” I asked in earnest.

His face took on an infuriated look as he declared, “You may have shot down Shiora, but I’m sure you cheated somehow! If we fight in VR, then you won’t be able to cheat, will you? I’ll totally be able to beat the crap out of you! When I win, you have to swear never to go near Shiora again!”

Wait, didn’t Diloparz get angry with him for acting so casually with her? She told him not to use her first name too...

He’s got some mental fortitude. Talk about a walking social disaster zone.

Or perhaps the two of them made up since then, and he got permission?

Well, actually, I haven’t been going near her, and I don’t intend to do so in the future. That makes things simple.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you win,” I said. “I mean, I have no intention of going near her ever again. Yep. Show’s over.”

I never had any intention of getting closer to Diloparz in the first place. Plus, as a mercenary, if people thought I’d lost a battle to a civilian, that would help rid me of my silly “alias” as well.

The youth looked stunned when he first heard my answer, but then, he gave me a triumphant smile and proclaimed loudly, “That figures! As if a coward like you would ever accept a fair fight! You’d better stay the hell away from Shiora from now on!” With that, he cheerfully departed the scene.

Good grief. Now I can finally get some work done.

I walked away, boarded my ship, and began my next security detail shift.

NPC No. 105: “I don’t need to seek protection from someone weaker than myself, like you. If you bother me again, I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

☆☆☆

Aside: Shiora Diloparz

I had so much promise.

In my training at school, I had never lost a round of combat. Certainly not to my fellow students, whether they were older, younger, or in the same year as me—and not even against my teachers.

Those teachers, however, had apparently been sore losers. They had told me that I would still find myself far outmatched by seasoned mercenaries and military aces, but I had thought that, with my talents, I could still win.

When I went to sign up with the rebel army in my father’s place, I never thought in my wildest dreams that I’d end up being shot down.

As a matter of fact, at the start of the battle, I managed to shoot down many enemy ships. There wasn’t a single pilot in either the army’s regular troops or in the mercenaries’ fleet who could measure up to me.

After an initial skirmish—my opportunity to show all the people around me what I was made of—was over, the real battle finally began. This time, my squadron’s opposition was made up of the Eleventh Fleet and the mercenaries serving under them.

Of course, I still managed to take down several ships at the outset of the battle. And since I’d done that, I thought that my next target—a vessel painted a pale brown color—would also be easy to shoot down.

However...

The moment I thought my enemy was in my sights, that pale brown ship vanished from view. Before I could react, it had circled behind me and fired a beam in my direction.

I just managed to evade this by the skin of my teeth, but when I returned fire with my own ship’s beam, my opponent evaded me with ease. On top of that, he managed to shoot down a few other vessels while avoiding my fire.

It was almost as if he were using me as bait to draw in other prey. Like I was a weak opponent whom no one could be bothered to take out.

And he didn’t only do this once or twice. He managed to pull off this maneuver many times.

Eventually, I was so enraged that I finally fired on another enemy vessel. I realized that no matter how long I persisted in firing on the pale brown ship, it would only evade me with ease.

At this point, I was no longer thinking straight. Could it be that he was able to predict exactly how I would react to his tactics? Or perhaps he had some psychic ability that let him see inside my mind?

Once thoughts like that took hold in my mind, I was overcome by the feeling that I was resting in the palm of some colossal adversary. I was assailed by an indescribable wave of terror.

It was then that I finally realized that my teachers’ warnings—that I would still find myself far outmatched by seasoned mercenaries and military aces—were in fact true. They hadn’t just been sore losers.

The very next moment, my ship shook violently.

I’ve been hit.

I was terrified. Petrified of the seasoned mercenary in the pale brown ship.

But luckily—no, in fact, purposely—only my thruster nozzles had been hit.

When I realized that, I immediately activated my cockpit’s ejection device. I didn’t even wait to check my surroundings first.

As I was thankful that I was able to withdraw from the battle without anyone shooting down my escape pod, I was overcome by many emotions at once. Relief that I wasn’t dead. Frustration at having been used as bait and that I’d been discarded when I was no longer needed. And shame that I’d let myself get so cocky. I suddenly started to sob.

Then, just moments before one of our cargo ships rescued me, I saw a red band of light race across the battle line toward my allies’ formation.

Nothing remained in the wake of that light.

The squadron I was part of was one of those swept away.

I didn’t know what that red light was, but it looked like being shot down by that pale brown ship had saved my life.

It wasn’t long before my allies in the rebel army, overwhelmed by the power of that red band of light, admitted defeat.

Thanks to the mercy of Her Majesty the Empress, in the resolution of the war, I was allowed to return home to my parents instead of being thrown in prison.

Fortunately, my father had recovered from his illness by then. My parents both suggested that I should return to my high school studies at the Imperial Academy of Lutoramu, but I figured that since I had defied the empress once, I was unlikely to be readmitted.

Though I had originally planned on becoming a soldier after finishing high school, the fact remained that I had been part of the rebel army. It would be difficult to get in at this point.

Now that it had come to this, I concluded that the only path left open to me if I wanted to show off my talents was to become a mercenary.

When I came to this revelation, I recalled the mercenary in the pale brown ship—the one who had played me for a fool and had crushed my sense of pride.

Part of me wanted to get back at him. To beat him.

But the unwritten rule, since time immemorial, had been not to harbor resentment over whatever happened on the battlefield.

So instead, I decided I wanted to join the branch of the Mercenaries Guild where I might find the pilot of that pale brown ship. If I did that, I might have the chance to see him in battle from up close. Perhaps that would help me grow as a pilot.

However, at the time, I didn’t know which branch he belonged to.

I thought I’d try asking Cousin Shuneira, the daughter of one of my mother’s siblings.

My cousin, named Shuneira Flos, was the daughter of my mother’s older brother. She was a lieutenant colonel in the imperial army and was currently the deputy commander of the First Fleet—the Central Fleet’s crusader squadron.

I’d always looked up to Cousin Shuneira, and that was why I’d wanted to become a soldier in the first place. Because of that, it was really a pity that we’d ended up on opposite sides during the war. But since I knew no one better informed on military matters than her, I had no choice but to ask.

Thankfully, she was willing to listen to my request and was overjoyed that I had survived the conflict.

“After listening to your version of events, I checked a number of different sources. What I found was this—the name of the mercenary in the pale brown ship you were up against is John Ouzos. He’s registered with the Mercenaries Guild branch on Planet Ittsu.”

When Cousin Shuneira told me that, I was unable to contain my anxiety.

The man in the photo she showed me didn’t seem like anyone special. He was a little tubby and seemed kind of worn out. But as someone who had witnessed his strength firsthand, the fact that he didn’t even look strong made him all the more terrifying.

For her part, Cousin Shuneira asked me to spare no details in describing what my battle with him had been like. She seemed interested in knowing more about mercenaries who were particularly skilled.

After this exchange of information, Cousin Shuneira heard me out about joining the army after all. She assured me that I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone in the First Fleet.

In all honesty, I wanted to leap at the opportunity, but I already felt that I had drawn a line in the sand. I politely turned her down.

And so it was then that I ended up making my debut as a mercenary at the Mercenaries Guild branch on Ittsu.

I was referred to my first job as a mercenary by the same absolutely gorgeous lady in reception who had helped me to register with the guild—Zaystall. The job was to provide security for a work crew who’d been hired to disassemble a colony.

Thankfully, I was able to find Ouzos immediately after arriving at the work site.

But even though I wanted to talk to him right away, I spent about two days worrying about how to approach him in the first place.

Even on the third day, when I had finally resolved to talk to him, I spent the morning worrying about the timing. I only finally managed to approach him after our shift.

Then, once I’d spoken to him, I was hardly surprised to learn that he knew nothing about me. After learning that he had shot me down, he didn’t try to lord that fact over me. Instead, he’d remained calm. It was just like when I had first seen his photograph. I couldn’t even detect a shred of the pressure that he had exerted on the battlefield.

In all honesty, I had been on the verge of challenging him to a mock battle during our break time, but since we were obliged to be on standby and able to scramble at any time, I suppressed this urge. We were here as security personnel, after all.

Another development was that I found myself getting along with some disassembly workers who were girls around my age here. Not only had I spent my school days in an environment where I treated everyone as a rival, but I had a personality that made all but the most perfunctory conversations difficult for me. Up until now, I had never made any friends.

But just as I was beginning to enjoy socializing, a boy around my age barged his way into our conversation.

Since we were both teenagers, I wouldn’t have expected him to speak in a very formal manner to me, but he was so overly familiar that I did not get a good first impression of him.

A few days passed, and I saw that overly familiar fellow picking a fight with Ouzos.

He was wailing about having to take Ouzos down. And he was saying that he was doing it in my name, for revenge.

So, I decided I would make my feelings abundantly clear to this boy, including how I felt about his overly casual attitude.

Afterward, Ouzos had a number of questions for me. How did I manage to find him? Why had I mentioned the color of his ship, almost like it was an alias for him? And why had I shared my personal account of the war with that overly familiar fellow in the first place? After I gave him my honest answers, he warned me to be more careful about sharing personal information in the future.

Following that, Ouzos and I stuck to treating each other as casual acquaintances, only briefly acknowledging each other when we crossed paths.

In all honesty, I was still waiting for my chance to challenge him to a mock battle to settle the score once this job was over, but I couldn’t do that now.

When I considered that this was all that overly familiar fellow’s fault, I was pretty annoyed.

Still, I managed to do my job. When my shift on the final day was over, Miya and Tenoi—two of the girls from the work crew I’d made friends with—invited me to join them for a tea party.

By the way, there was a rule that, even if your shift was over, you had to stay on-site until everyone’s shift was over.

While I was enjoying some cake and a parfait in the administrative colony’s tea parlor, that same overly familiar fellow came up to me again.

“Shiora, you’ve got to hear this! That coward admitted defeat to me in a dogfight! I made him promise to stay the hell away from you from now on, so you can rest easy!” he raved without waiting for my response, wearing a smug expression on his face.

I don’t think this civilian would be able to beat a seasoned mercenary like Ouzos. I doubt he even has a battlecraft in the first place.

Tenoi had apparently been there and had witnessed what had happened. “I saw this guy pick a fight with a slightly chubby security guard this morning. He said they should have a contest in VR, but the guard just brushed him off, saying something like ‘Yeah, yeah. Let’s just say you won.’” I see. It seems like Ouzos doesn’t really care what people think of him, so he probably found it easy to shrug this fellow off.

Now, I’m pretty sure I told this guy in no uncertain terms not to call me by my name, as it sounds way too familiar.

Also, if he ordered Ouzos not to come near me ever again, that’ll make it even harder for me to ask for a mock battle myself...

“I’ve said this once before, but I don’t recall ever giving you permission to address me by my name as if we’re friends. If you keep bothering me, I’ll have to turn you over to the police,” I warned the overly familiar fellow.

“What do you want to go and do that for?! I was only thinking of what was best for you, Shiora! I was protecting you, don’t you see?!” cried the overly familiar fellow with unconcealed anger. Then, he grabbed my left wrist with his right hand.

“Please let go of me. This already constitutes battery.”

“There’s no way I’m letting go!”

He wouldn’t release me even after I warned him, so I was forced to act in self-defense.

To start, I got out of my chair and, while pulling back my left hand, I used my right hand to extend his elbow and lock the joint in place. Then, I swept his feet out from under him from left to right and hurled him to the floor.

“Gah!”

I had meant to go easy on him, but it looked like I’d thrown him to the ground with a fair amount of force. He was in so much pain that he was unable to move.

Now that the overly familiar fellow was immobile, I said, “I don’t need to seek protection from someone weaker than myself, like you. If you bother me again, I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

As I presented him with this final warning, I lightly rested my hand on the pistol that hung from a holster at my hip.

“A-All right! I won’t!”

I had finally gotten the compliant, albeit fearful, reply I was after.

As the overly familiar fellow was being escorted away by one of the tea parlor’s employees, Miya and Tenoi both held up their hands with their palms facing me.

And so, just like they had taught me, I enthusiastically raised my own hands to slap against theirs.

Special Story 1: I’d Like to Blame It on the Alcohol

“So! A toast to celebrate Crystalweed’s win at the Victory over the Rebel Army Cup! Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

Following the example of our team’s owner, Gunil Karlad—who was also the leader of the Crystalweed racing team—we all raised our full glasses high above our heads.

The members of Crystalweed—our Planet Racing team—had booked out an izakaya in the main area of the entertainment colony that orbited Planet Negola. We’d gathered there to celebrate our team’s victory in the Victory Over the Rebel Army Cup.

Well, even if we’d lost, we were planning to get together to commiserate.

Incidentally, though there had been other times we’d held parties to celebrate victories after a day’s work, those were sometimes largely focused on promoting the team. Surely we could allow ourselves to kick back and have fun once in a while.

By the way, this particular izakaya—Ajimaru—was famous for having delicious chicken dishes. And we weren’t there as typical customers either. The staff had pushed together a few tables to make a little island for us, and we crowded around it in no particular order.

About one hour had passed since the start of our party when Aero, who already seemed pretty drunk, leaned against me and brought up something that had happened before the race.

“Say, Scuba. You saw that Farseer guy before the race, right?”

“Yeah, I guess I did. What about him?”

Sure, I did see “that Farseer guy”—namely Ouzos—but it wasn’t like we spoke.

Despite the lack of interaction between Ouzos and me, Aero grinned and said something shocking.

“At the time, you seemed pretty bothered by the fact that he was with a lady in that line of work. Don’t tell me you were thinking, ‘I can’t believe I lost to someone like that’?”

“What?!” I said. “As if!”

It was true that at the time, I couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated, but when I thought long and hard about it, I realized that he had never been interested in me. His taste in women must’ve deviated strongly from the likes of me.

And for my part, I didn’t really think of him as much of a romantic prospect either. It was merely that I considered him someone I’d like on my side when it came to work. Otherwise, he could be someone who might get in my way if I couldn’t make him my ally.

“Oh, really? Well, putting the Farseer’s tastes to one side, aren’t you still annoyed that that working lady made a more attractive woman than you?” asked Aero. “Ah, well, if that’s the case, let me give you a makeover!”

“No thanks, I don’t need one.”

Aero took a good, hard look at my body. “First of all, we need to make the most of those long legs of yours. I guess high heels, stockings, and a miniskirt would be the standard ensemble, yeah? I think you can totally get away with leaving your legs bare, though. Then, we just need to do something about the upper half of your body...”

She didn’t even seem to have heard my refusal and persisted in making suggestions.

Then another girl, our treasurer, had apparently overheard our conversation. She chimed in too. “Oh, I know! In a casual setting, I think a tube top would look wonderful. And somewhere more formal, a suit!”

Our treasurer seemed to have had a fair amount to drink herself. But, though her face was bright red, she maintained a serious expression as she submitted her own opinions.

And after her, Fino, our mechanic—whose eyes had started to glaze over now—chimed in next.

“Oh, I know! I shink a long skirt would really shuit you, Shuna. You’d look shooo prim and proper!”

That started a chain reaction.

“Let’s forget about style and put her in a super dorky tracksuit!”

“If you want my opinion, maybe she should just wear a coat over her underwear?”

“No, she’s gotta wear cat ears and a tail! And say ‘meow’ after every sentence!”

“No, no. Dog ears would suit Scuna better.”

“Then you have to put her in sneakers, denims, and a T-shirt—an outfit without even a hint of sexiness!”

At that point, everyone around the table just started saying whatever they felt like.

If I, Scuna Noswile, were to go into that kind of work, what kind of clothes should I wear?

The fact that such a topic had caught on was something I wanted to blame on the alcohol they had been drinking—as well as the fact that we were all women.

Aero and the other girls kept making other suggestions without even having been asked—something frilly, a bodycon dress... They were all dropping their ideas of what they’d like to dress me in if I were to go into that line of work. Some of them even opened up dress-up applications on their handheld devices and took photos of me to see what I’d look like in different outfits.

I felt I had to do something to stop them. As I waited for an opportunity to do so, someone else stepped in.

“Cut it out, all of you!” shouted Marina Lujelnight—our team’s manager.

Marina was kind of like the deputy leader of Crystalweed. Her responsibilities included directing us during races, managing our day-to-day schedules, negotiating contracts with our sponsors, picking what races we’d enter, and keeping the business side of things running smoothly. All of these responsibilities belonged to this one talented woman. Only the team’s owner, Gunil Karlad, ranked above her.

Our manager had always seemed like an incredibly serious woman to me. So when she saw everyone ganging up and picking on me, she must have been unable to stay silent.

“I’ve been listening to all of you, and I have to say... Whether it be a miniskirt or a frilly long skirt, why would you suggest clothes that she has no intention of wearing and might not even suit her anyway?” thundered Marina.

Aero and the other girls immediately looked sheepish and froze up.

Well, that’s the end of that.

Or, so I thought.

The very next moment, some unexpected words came tumbling out of Marina’s mouth.

“Our Scuna would obviously look best in a casual suit, like they wear in host clubs! Or a pure white tuxedo!”

Marina’s expression and the look in her eyes were identical to those of the female fans who treated me like a man.

Up until this point, I had never realized that Marina was one of those women.

But now that I thought about it, I had heard that she had been the one who’d previously pushed for one of our sponsors, Silfeed Gospel, to adopt the photos we had shot of me in men’s clothing for their posters. And whenever she gave me clothes as gifts, they were always men’s clothes—she’d claimed they were for when I’d dress incognito.

Could it be that I’ve been treated even more like a prince since becoming a racer, all because of her meddling?

Marina joined Aero’s camp at this point. “Try this jacket with these pants,” she said, fiddling with the same dress-up application they’d been using.

At this point, I think I’ll have to give up on trying to stop them.

Honestly, they’re all so drunk that I don’t think anyone could stop them now...

In the end, our celebration wrapped up after four hours.

Our event coordinator, Samanita—who hadn’t been drinking for liability reasons—came with me to the counter to settle the bill.

We didn’t follow it up with an after-party. Instead, we called a taxi and headed straight home. We made sure to pick up some grilled and fried chicken on the way back to the mother ship, Seed 1, though—a souvenir for those who had been watching it while we had been away.

After I’d helped everyone back to their quarters and was digging into the grilled chicken I’d bought for myself, I downloaded the same dress-up application that Aero and the girls had been using.

Apparently, its intended purpose was to let you see how clothes might look on you before buying them. It made it really easy to overlay clothes on your own photographs.

I remembered having a lot of fun when I had gotten to play dress-up in real life at the HQ of Silfeed Gospel, that cosmetics brand we had done a sponsorship with.

Seeing how easy it was to play with this app, I started to understand how Aero and the girls had gotten so carried away.

Among the accessories in the app, I discovered a pair of cat ears. I figured I’d play around and put them on a photo of mine.

In spite of myself, I just had to try it. “Me... Meow...”

I only found out the next morning that Aero had overheard me.

Special Story 2: A Life-Changing Incident

Nine years ago...

I found myself at Fakultes Planetary High School, situated in the Talik Town ward of Palbea City, in the Kad area of Planet Ittsu.

On that July day, we only had a few days left until summer vacation. I had just taken my first end-of-term test since enrolling at this school. Mr. Mardi Gainbuhl, the school’s imperial history teacher and guidance counselor, had asked me to meet him in the staff room after classes.

I know I’m involved in otaku activities, but it’s not like I’m a delinquent. What reason could he have for calling on me?

Maybe he’s concerned about my grades? But in that case, my homeroom teacher would have brought it up with me.

At any rate, now that I’ve been summoned, I have no choice but to show up. Ignoring a teacher’s instructions will only get me into more trouble.

“Excuse me,” I said, opening the door to the staff room. As it was after school hours, there weren’t many teachers hanging around still. I found Mr. Gainbuhl in no time.

“Mr. Gainbuhl, it’s me,” I said. “Ouzos from class 1-D.”

Mr. Gainbuhl had blond hair in a 7:3 part, round-framed spectacles, and a long, narrow face. He gave off all the signs of being a cranky intellectual.

However, his appearance was betrayed by his training in martial arts. Apparently, he had taken down a delinquent brandishing a knife on one occasion.

“Oh, you came. Let me get straight to the point, Ouzos. Your grades weren’t too good this semester,” he said.

“Eh? Is that true, sir?”

I was pretty sure I managed to avoid flunking anything, but maybe I did worse than I thought?

“Yeah, though that was mostly due to careless mistakes on your part. Well, that’s not any of my concern. Here’s what I really want to talk about. You like anime and stuff, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not trying to say there’s anything wrong with that,” he began, “but when it comes to writing your permanent record, we have to fill in something about each student’s hobbies, to show what kind of person they are. And you see, at many of the better colleges, there are still some more close-minded professors hanging around. They don’t look too kindly on those sorts of hobbies.”

I feel like anime and manga have been coming up in the world of late, but there are still plenty of people who look down on them...

Having been reminded of that fact, I felt a little despondent.

“So, about that. To spruce up your permanent record, how about doing some part-time work?” he asked. “A live-in program.”

“Part-time work...you say?”

Mr. Gainbuhl seemed to be proposing a specific job to me.

“That’s right. This is a summer job that will take up your whole vacation, with lodgings provided.”

“You’re telling me to use up my whole summer vacation, sir...?” I asked.

“It’s up to you whether you want to participate or not, but if you don’t, your permanent record will remain as is. You might struggle to get admitted to a college. This is one of those times when you might want to listen to advice from your elders.”

In all honesty, there was a summer event I planned to attend. I really didn’t want to do this instead.

But Mr. Gainbuhl was actually a nobleman, though I couldn’t recall whether he was a baron or viscount. That meant he actually had more authority than the principal, who was a commoner. With his brawn factored into the equation, even the teachers were supposedly too scared to stand up to him.

Though that last point was only a rumor, an otaku like me who occupied the bottom rung of the school’s caste system could hardly afford to defy an order—albeit one presented as advice—from someone who had such rumors circulating about him.

“Understood, sir. But, what kind of part-time opportunity are we talking about?”

“You’ll find out when you get there,” he said. “You’d better prepare for a long stay. I’ll tell you where to go at the end-of-term assembly. But it’d be better for you to sign the contract now.” Mr. Gainbuhl then handed me a tablet with the contract displayed on its screen.

And that was how I got strong-armed into taking an unknown part-time job over my first summer vacation as a high school student.

At the assembly just a few days later, I received the following email from Mr. Gainbuhl.

Assemble at the water fountain on the east side of the departures gate for Planet Ittsu’s spaceport by 2100 tonight.

From his use of the word “assemble,” it sounded like he’d convinced some people besides me to join up as well.

Since I’d already made my preparations for a long excursion the day following my talk with Mr. Gainbuhl, I was able to make my way to the meeting place without having to panic.

When I arrived at the designated location thirty minutes ahead of the deadline, there was no one else there.

After I’d waited for a while, a tall girl arrived.

Isn’t that Nos...something or other? From class 1-A?

She was very popular with the other girls, perhaps because she was more on the handsome side.

But why was she asked to participate? As far as I know, her grades and conduct have been fine.

Once the designated meeting time arrived, a total of thirty-five students, a mix of boys and girls, had arrived on the scene.

Though this may go without saying, about ninety percent of these students were those on the rambunctious side.

Then, right on time, Mr. Gainbuhl appeared with a group of obvious tough guys. The leader of those was a huge man who must have been two meters tall.

“All right. Looks like you’re all here. This here is Mr. Barax; he’ll be in charge of all of you part-time workers this summer. Make sure you do what he tells you from now on,” said Mr. Gainbuhl. Then, he asked the huge man to take over for him and vanished.

“OK, kids, the ship’s this way. Follow me.”

Thronged by the giant (Mr. Barax) and his comrades, we came to the rear of the spaceport and boarded a cargo ship. That night, we were transported to an old-fashioned colony that they called their base.

It was there that we finally received an explanation.

“Welcome to Flekiks, our band of mercenaries. From now on, you’ll be working as part of the group. Your first mission will be cleaning up the battlecraft. I’ll show you to your dorms so you can stow your belongings. Once you’ve done that, you’re to assemble back here immediately!”

We finally had some idea of the job we’d been convinced to sign up for.

Naturally, some resisted, but after Mr. Barax fired his pistol at the floor a few times, they soon settled down.

At that moment, I finally realized what a scumbag Mr. Gainbuhl really was.

The dorms slept twenty to a room. The only items in each room were ten austere two-tier bunk beds and enough lockers for each recruit to have one. The twenty-eight boys who’d shown up were assigned to two rooms, so fourteen to a room. The seven girls occupied a single room. As soon as we set down our luggage, we were taken back to the ship’s loading bay so we could begin cleaning the battlecraft.

As we were doing that, we asked about things we were unsure about. The mercenaries got annoyed and yelled at us to figure it out ourselves, which I found to be unreasonable.

By the time we finished, it was time for breakfast. Though there was nothing available besides bread, stew, milk, and water, the portions were generous.

After that came target practice.

The mercenaries suddenly handed us a series of weapons that we normally wouldn’t have handled as regular students—things like handguns, assault rifles, shotguns, and grenade launchers. We tried our best to hit the targets, but even as total amateurs, it was clear that this was a lousy way to train people.

Once that was over, it was time for us to receive some lectures in battlecraft tactics, followed by a flight simulation in VR.

Since about ninety percent of our cohort was made up of rambunctious youths, they really seemed to enjoy their time on the firing range and in the battlecraft simulator.

After that, we had a late lunch of water, bread, and vegetable stir-fry.

“All right, rookies! It’s time for your first round of pilot training in an actual battlecraft! They’re all fully armed, but under no circumstances should you touch the triggers for the beams or missiles without asking permission first! Got it?!”

It was time for us to try piloting battlecraft in outer space for the first time.

Though this did present another opportunity for us students to escape in these ships, we were not only accompanied by an instructor, but by a number of guards who called themselves “teaching assistants.”

Perhaps in part thanks to our time in VR training, and following the example of our instructor, we were able to perform the basic combat maneuvers used within planetary atmospheres—ascending, descending, banking, and 180-degree turns. Though we were all a little shaky, we managed to avoid bumping into each other.

About two hours into our training, we received an order from our instructor that beggared belief.

“I’ve only just got word of this, but it seems that our scouting squad was fighting some of Baron Anaipot’s troops. They’ve been taken out. Anyway, if the baron’s troops aren’t stopped, they’ll make it to the main body of the fleet before Viscount Pelenn is ready to intercept them. So, we’re going to scramble right now to buy Viscount Pelenn enough time to get his formation together!”

Naturally, some of my fellow students couldn’t help but voice their dismay.

“Don’t worry! Our scouts were all drones. Besides, we’ll be fighting the idiot sons of noblemen—guys who spend their time hitting on chicks instead of training. Even you kids should have no trouble beating them!” cried our instructor, explaining that the soldiers on the opposing side were weak. He was whipping us into a frenzy. “Now, follow me!”

And so we went to partake in the first real battle of our lives.

After a quick fifteen-minute flight away from the training grounds, we arrived at an interstellar gate that would connect us to the battlefield.

“Listen up! First of all, we need to rendezvous with our allies. We’ll resupply our ships there. Just stay behind me.”

A short while after passing through the gate, we came upon an allied squadron in a tight formation. Even though we were in the vacuum of space, the air over the battlefield was heavy.

We started resupplying behind the lines of Viscount Pelenn’s forces—they had yet to finish shoring up their numbers.

“Start by making a dense formation! Your IFF displays will identify anyone belonging to Flekiks, our band, or our client Viscount Pelenn’s forces, so don’t shoot them! Okay! Now advance, dead slow ahead! On my signal, give the enemy formation a volley! Ready... Fire!”

On our instructor’s signal, we pulled the triggers for our beam cannons in unison.

In that shower of light, we regrettably saw an entire enemy squad being annihilated.

“All right! We can handle this!”

“Huh?! These guys are pushovers!”

“And we’re getting paid?! Lucky us!”

The rambunctious youths on our side seemed pretty excited by this early win.

Our instructor must have been satisfied with this result. He sounded elated as he encouraged us to continue.

“You kids have better chops than I thought!” he yelled. “Okay! Time for you to charge and press the advantage! We’ll cover you!”

“OK... I can do this! We can do this!”

“Let’s go! We can start with the bastards right in front of us!”

The instructor’s rhetoric seemed to motivate nearly all of the students. They headed right for the enemy formation.

However, their beginner’s luck didn’t hold out for very long.

After evading their initial barrage, our enemies found it easy to toy with us. In the blink of an eye, our formation was in tatters—and our instructors were long gone.

I’m getting out of here, I resolved, gripping my craft’s joystick.

I don’t remember much of what followed, but I do remember being desperate.

The next solid memory I have is receiving a declaration of victory from the soldiers we were allied with. Then, a mercenary called me and said, “Hey. Guess you survived. Looks like you’ll make a fine mercenary.”

When I came to, only three students from Fakultes Planetary High School were left, including me.

I was so exhausted at the time that I couldn’t really process what that meant.

But the moment I got back to the colony that served as the mercenary base, it was being raided by the police. The members of the mercenary band Flekiks were being arrested one after another, and anyone who resisted was shot dead. When the police rescued me, I realized for the first time that my classmates had died. I was so overwhelmed that my whole body started shaking.

What happened next was really trying.

It turned out that the incident had only been uncovered because Count and Countess Barnekust, the parents of a handsome male student named Riol Barnekust, found it strange that their son had never come home after the start of his summer vacation. That’d resulted in the army and police being deployed.

Because Riol often went around publicly claiming that he wasn’t a noble, Mr. Gainbuhl had set his sights on him. After the teacher had made some kind of threat against him, he’d apparently had no choice but to obey him.

He never told me the details of that conversation, however.

As for the ringleader, Mr. Mardi Gainbuhl, it turned out that he had been preying on students with records of bad behavior or money troubles for some time. He’d been threatening to either hand them over to the police or raise some irregularity in their grades, permanent records, or payment for their tuition fees before handing them over to the mercenaries. Apparently, he’d been splitting the money that was supposed to be paid to the students with the mercenaries themselves.

In the early days, he’d apparently stuck to targeting one or two students at a time. He hadn’t made it clear why he’d tried to recruit thirty-five at once on this occasion. Well, he was probably blinded by greed.

A number of other crimes he had committed became apparent at this time, and he found himself facing the death penalty.

Then, thanks to the media, the students who had survived the battle were turned into poster children for their generation.

At least, two of them were—not me.

“Handsome Schoolboy and Handsome Schoolgirl Escape with Their Lives from Corrupt Tyrannical Teacher’s Trap!”

The media adopted that sort of headline, and that left the two of them in high demand.

Well, they are both incredibly photogenic. The viewers will be pleased.

Despite being a fellow survivor, when I saw the barrage of camera flashes that greeted them outside the school’s gates, I was genuinely relieved that I wasn’t being given the same attention.

Besides, because the incident had wrapped up in only one day, I was still able to go to that summer event. It was a blast—I had so much fun there that I started to forget all about that unpleasant episode, and I made a lifelong friend too.

But at the time, I didn’t even dream that such an unpleasant episode would end up being something I would seek out in the future, nor that it would one day reveal itself to be my calling.

Afterword

To everyone who’s here for the first time, nice to meet you. And to those who already know me, welcome back.

My name is Toryuu.

I cannot help but feel shocked by how quickly volume 4 came out.

Last year (though it was still last year when I wrote this), I caught COVID. It was a little disturbing to lose my sense of taste and smell. I even ended up developing cellulitis, which is an illness where bacteria get underneath your skin and cause it to become inflamed. I feel like some sufferers of edgelord syndrome might be happy to get that.

Either way, I feel like last year was my worst year ever, health-wise. If possible, I’d like to be healthier this year.

Looking at my (NPC) protagonist, though he hasn’t had any health problems so far, he has had to deal with all manner of mental distress. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. At the same time, I envy the way his mental fortitude allows him to bounce back.

Our (NPC) protagonist is slowly building up a group of allies who understand him, but I do think it would be better not to let him find too many. Having said that, I don’t want him to have too many enemies either. I’m not quite sure how to balance this.

Incidentally, when I first saw the illustration that hamm-sama provided for the front cover this time, I wondered if we could actually get away with it. Our editor said it was fine, so now, we present it to you.

As always, I cannot overstate my gratitude for hamm-sama’s illustrations.

To all of my readers, please take good care of your own health.

—Toryuu