Chapter 4

Act 2 Kushinada Hunting 1 “Waooon! Hi, everywaon, Iroha Waon here! “Thanks for tuning in today. The sky’s always clear here at this time. It’s hot today as usual, even so early in the morning. “But today’s a special day! It’s my seventeenth birthday! Yaaay! Clap, clap, clap! Happy birthday, me! So I’m gonna be baking my own cake today! Well, not a cake, per se, but a cupcake! I got pancake mix here for it!” Operation: Kushinada Hunt began by gathering the troops at the Arakawa Riverside, near the ruins of the Kawaguchi Station. They had to cross the Shin-Arakawa Bridge, which still stood after the J-nocide, and enter the 23 Wards through what once was the Kita Ward. They would then take the National Route 123 to Hakusan Avenue. Galerie Berith was an arts dealer in name only—their true business was in arms. They called themselves a galerie only out of convenience for the transportation of weaponry and money across national borders. They had their own private military company supposedly to protect the artwork. The place was chock-full of soft-skinned gun trucks and armored personnel carriers by the time Yahiro arrived. Sharply contrasting with the menacing environment, a pretty girl stood in the middle of it all. The girl with the orange highlights jumped and waved at him. “He’s here! Yahiro, over here!” Everyone turned around to look at him upon hearing Giulietta Berith’s shouting. Yahiro’s expression soured, and he approached her reluctantly. Giuli was surrounded by the Galerie’s operators. They weren’t soldiers in the strict sense of the word—calling them contractors would be more accurate. PMC employees were not allowed to use camouflaged military clothing, so they wore their own unique uniform: a sort of hiking hoodie. The uniform’s main color was white and yellow—needlessly stylish for their purpose. It was made of a special material that stayed cool in the middle of summer—breathable while still waterproof. It was also bulletproof and had power-suit functionality in order to sustain the extra weight of those added features. They were worth thousands of dollars. A showy, costly, and highly functional uniform. Each detail irritated Yahiro more than the last. But what annoyed him the most was the fact that they made him wear one. “Looks like it fits you well,” Rosé said with an unfriendly look on her face as she got off the carrier. She was wearing the same uniform, but the particulars were a tad different. The bottom was a miniskirt with a slit, and she was exposing more of her shoulders and hips. Perhaps she, like Giuli, prioritized mobility over defense. Or maybe she simply felt hot with all that covered. “The size’s not bad, but it’s too heavy,” Yahiro grumbled, placing a hand on his chest. The bulletproof plate, though comparatively lightweight due to the innovative material, was still heavy enough to hinder mobility. “It has powered assistance. Just boot it up, and you should no longer feel the weight.” “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m holding extra weight. And I don’t need this much protection.” Gunshots were no threat to the Lazarus boy, and bulletproof plates held no significance against Moujuu. The weight was nothing but a hindrance. “You can take it off once we enter the 23 Wards, but I think you should keep it on until then. You’re more famous than you realize.” Rosé spoke in riddles, and Yahiro couldn’t decipher them. Then someone pulled his arm hard before he could ask for clarification. “Yahiro, Yahiro, take this.” Giuli clung to him as she pushed a bundle, about as thick as a chocolate bar, to his chest. The wrapper enveloping it was that of a luxury confectionery. “What’s this?” “Some candy. Eat it if you get hungry.” “Well, I hope I get time to think about eating today.” It was small enough to not be a nuisance to carry, so he had no reason to refuse it. He put it in his thigh bag. Yahiro kept his guard up all the while. He didn’t know the twins’ rank in the Galerie Berith organization, but he couldn’t imagine the operators would welcome with open arms the outsider they had brought. His own life hadn’t been peaceful enough for him to be so trusting. He was anticipating just a bit of harassment but had to be prepared for the worst, such as a bullet to the head out of the blue. No amount of caution was excessive. “Hey, Japanese boy. So you’re the guy the Princess and the Lady brought.” One of the operators spoke to him in casual English, a cheeky look in his eyes. The young white man had his blond hair styled in a Mohawk. Then he extended his right hand to Yahiro, offering a handshake. He grinned like a playful brat. “I’m Josh. Josh Keegan. This big gal over here is Paola Resente.” “…I’m not big… You’re just short…,” the tan-skinned woman replied. “I’m not short!” Josh objected. He was relatively short for a white man, while Paola was as tall as a pro model. Their difference in height was staggering. “You must be Yahiro. I’m Yang Wei. We three are the team leaders of the special forces that will be heading into the 23 Wards as of today. Nice to meet you.” A good-looking Asian man asked him for a handshake last. He seemed older than Josh and Paola but still under thirty. All the other operators also looked about his age. The average age of the troop was far younger than Yahiro had expected. “…I’ll work as hard as the pay merits. Don’t expect any more,” Yahiro replied awkwardly. There was something about Wei’s friendly smile that didn’t sit right with him. The Japanese became the target of the world’s hatred when the J-nocide began, and even after it ended, the contempt and mockery did not. People would gladly use Yahiro as a salvager, but no one considered him their equal. Being on the receiving end of friendliness all of a sudden left him feeling confused. It was only then that he understood how easy it was to interact with the capricious Giuli and bossy Rosé. “I see. Either way, Yahiro, there is something you must know before we start. It’s important.” Josh’s face became serious all of a sudden. He led him somewhere out of Rosé’s line of sight. Here it comes, I guess. The hazing. He expected to get punched in the face to show him who’s boss. The usual. What happened in reality, however, he could have never imagined. “Listen, Yahiro. Don’t you go falling for the Princess, okay?” “…What? Princess? You mean…Giuli?” “Yes. I mean, if you want to fall in love with her, you do you, but don’t lay a finger on her. Got that?” “Okay…” It was so out there that it took him a second to comprehend. Giuli was “the Princess.” Rosé was “the Lady.” At least in Josh’s head. Yahiro got the gist of it, but he didn’t understand why he was warning him, exactly. “Everyone in the Galerie is a Giuli fan. Show her the slightest disrespect, and everyone here will turn on you. Expect a bullet to the back if that happens.” “Don’t worry… Only Rosé would ever do that…,” Paola added, a serious look on her face. Wei nodded. Yahiro was speechless. He felt dizzy from the sheer idiocy of the idea. What was this, an idol’s fan club? Surely no PMC operator would be so stupid as to choose where to work for such a reason. The most baffling part of this, though, was that Rosé was somehow the leader. Her love for her twin sister was more serious than he initially thought. The fact that the team leaders were warning him about it had to mean something similar had happened once before, too. It’s incredible this organization can even function properly.