Winry remembered the location of the weightlifting competition she’d seen on the day she arrived for her apprenticeship. She hadn’t realized that the empty lot among the rows of stores and residences was what was left after a fire and bankruptcy.
“Can’t we expose them? And can’t the clients report to the military police that they’ve been tricked?” Winry asked. She had heard rumors about crooked businesspeople, but had never personally been involved with ones like her peers had described.
The three shook their heads in unison, chiming in.
“It’s just not possible. Even if a client claims they were threatened, the contract still has their signature. The military police can’t do anything unless they happen to be present to witness the actual blackmailing.”
“They’ve been banding together recently, which has made everything worse. I can’t stand how it’s affecting the mood in town.”
“It really is dreadful.” Garfiel voiced his displeasure alongside his friends’.
The many terrorist incidents nationwide meant there was a high demand for prostheses. And Rush Valley, blessed by the ore-rich mountains that surrounded it, was flourishing in part due to that violence. Of course, no mechanic wanted a world with endless conflict, but so long as there were those who needed prostheses, the engineers wanted a safe environment where they could provide the best products possible.
But what was perhaps most important to the mechanics of Rush Valley was their pride in the technological developments that had resulted from their friendly rivalry. The crooks who tarnished the reputation of the city were also trampling on the engineers’ collective sense of honor.
“I know it’s difficult to ignore, but it’s best not to get involved with the likes of them. Winry, if you see any sketchy shops, promise me you’ll never go near them,” Garfiel said, uncharacteristically serious.
“Of course,” Winry responded sincerely.
“Anyway, all we can do is show them in our own way that we’re not going to take things lying down! Let’s show them what we’ve got!” Garfiel harumphed before crossing his burly arms firmly across his chest.
“That’s the plan. And we’re bringing in a brand-new weapon for that,” Henrik said coyly while passing Winry several sheets of paper.
Upon seeing the words emblazoned on the diagrams, Winry’s eyes widened.
“I know that! It’s that huge new power tool, right?”
It was a brand-new industrial-sized machine, produced by a certain famous brand. The machine, designed to both cut and polish, came with a large assortment of interchangeable blades. The blades, polishing discs, and other components were all incredibly powerful, and all of them were of higher quality than those available on the machinery currently in their shop.
“We use a variety of materials based on what the client needs when we make automail, don’t we? Well, when the machines we use have limitations, we can’t work with as many materials. So we decided to take the leap and ordered the latest model. The three of us, along with a few other people, pooled together our funds,” her fellow engineers explained.
“That’s amazing!” Winry exclaimed.
Purchasing the latest machinery through pooled investments was something that could only happen in Rush Valley. By bringing in this machine, they would be able to work with a greater range of metals and make a greater variety of automail.
Winry was filled with awe as she stroked the image of the machine on the paper with her fingertips.
“Even though it’s equipped with so many functions, there’s not a single wasteful element to it,” Winry said. “This is the brand with the president who started up his own company with the motto, ‘The most important part of crafting is good tools,’ right? He used to be a craftsman himself, and when he was ten, he became a legend by fixing a train … Oh, I’m sorry, I got a little too worked up there, didn’t I?”
Winry giggled and tried to play it off, sticking her tongue out sheepishly. When it came to automail, she retained even the most minute bits of trivia. Garfiel and the others blinked at her. They shared looks as though asking each other, Did you know that? The men shook their heads at each other.
“I read about his ideologies once in the paper,” Winry continued. “He said, ‘If the screws say nothing and the cogs are silent, they’re nothing more than clumps of metal. But if the right person handles them and listens close, the screws speak and the cogs sing. And that, then, is when the automail starts to gleam with brilliant glory.’ Oh, isn’t that so romantic?”
With the diagrams pressed to her chest and her eyes closed dreamily, Winry was the embodiment of an automail nerd. Garfiel and the others desperately tried to stifle their chuckling. Paying no heed to the fact that he was smearing his lipstick, Garfiel kept his hand clamped over his mouth until Winry was done waxing poetic about the machine. Then he told her, “Yes, so we’ve decided to set up the machine here, in our shop. Winry, dear, you’ll be in charge of taking care of it. Of course, you can use it whenever you’d like as well.”
“Really?!”
Winry snapped out of her reverie at the unexpected words. Because she was still inexperienced, she hadn’t imagined getting permission to personally handle the machine. Remembering that it was both the latest model—not to mention expensive—made her slightly nervous, but her joy overruled her trepidation.
“Oh no, what should I do?! Just thinking about it is making my hands shake! Oh, what should I make?!” Winry’s eyes sparkled as she danced around, and the men were no longer able to hold in their laughter.
“Ha ha ha! Winry, you never change!” said Henrik.
“Considering you’ve got such a passionate apprentice, it won’t be long until this studio’s called Atelier Winry,” said Weis.
“Well, my goodness, you really went there. I’ve still got some fight in me yet!” Garfiel countered.
Ignoring the laughter around her, Winry once again turned her gaze to the machine on the paper.
She wanted to use this to make Darish the best automail possible. She wanted to teach him that prostheses didn’t have to cause pain, that they could be part of his body, and that they could grant him freedom of mobility. If she could accomplish these goals, perhaps that would put Darish at ease so he could have faith in prosthetics.
Winry began drafting the blueprints for Darish’s automail in her head.