“Aaahhh, morn’n.”
“Good morning, Chief Watt Sears! Come on now, time to get up and at ’em!”
“That’s easy enough when you’re as young as you are! But when you’re almost forty, this sort of thing is rough in the mornings, you know.”
Humanity wasn’t made to get up before the sun! Thinking about nothing of any particular value, Watt Sears had made his way to his workplace, Front-Edge City Central Station, for yet another day on the job.
Looking down at the whorl of his subordinate’s hair as he greeted them, Watt gave his reply quietly under his breath. After all, he was well-built and stood nearly two meters tall in height. While his appearance might’ve otherwise come across as threatening, the air of absentmindedness he was cloaked in just barely managed to offset it.
In light of a certain reason, his workplace was more or less filled with twenty-somethings. Sadly enough for Watt, at thirty-nine years old this year, he’d single-handedly raised his workplace’s average age. What’s more, as the only ten-year veteran on the job, he’d been given a management role as chief.
“Oh, it’s about time for the first arrival to come rolling in!”
At practically that same moment, the Trailmarcher slid into the station with a lively clatter. The eight-legged lead car passed right before their eyes before stopping.
“This thing gives me the creeps no matter how many times I see it,” his subordinate remarked.
“Ha ha, creepy or not, it’s the poster child for the Kingdom’s Trail, inspired by the eight-legged Sleipnir.”
“The thing’s a spider any way you look at it.”
“Having the legs face out wasn’t the brightest choice, was it?”
Pulling a trail of numerous cars behind it as it dashed across the kingdom, the engine car at the front of the Trailmarcher was a splendid vehicle, excelling in both power and durability. Its appearance was just ever so slightly hopelessly unsettling—that was all.
“All right now, everybody!” Watt said. “Let’s do some good work out there today. Safety first, same as always.”
Watt clapped his hands to prompt them to start, only for the young workers to give scattered replies as they started to move. Their job was to unload cargo from the freight cars, so they headed off to where the tools they’d need for the job were. Awaiting them there were massive humanoid machines. To be precise, they were better described as massive humanoid magical instruments. They were commonly known as “Mechsteels.”
“Now, go ahead and feed them the junk magicyte,” Watt instructed.
“Roger.”
Proud of their own strength, the young workers carried bags filled with magicyte over to the Mechsteels, opened the hatches on their abdomens, and filled the Mech-Hearts—the Mechsteels’ power reactors.
“Phew, this really gets your shoulders,” Watt said. “It’d be a whole lot lighter if they went with something better than junk magicyte.”
“Do you hear how old you sound? There’s no way they’d ever fork out for the expensive stuff when it’s just going in a Mild Bull—they’re made to be cheap!”
These “Mild Bulls” stood eight meters tall from head to toe. They had chunky frames and short legs, which paired with arms as long as the machines were tall—so much so that they sometimes even touched the ground. What’s more, a bull monster’s skull that was massive in its own regard was embedded in each Mechsteel’s chest.
Mechsteels were a type of magical instrument that were powered by magic energy. Mild Bulls belonged to the so-called Livestock-grade of Mechsteel, mass-market products made at a relatively low cost. Even though the magicyte fueling them was of the lowest quality, this was offset by the sheer quantity required.
“All right, start boarding!”
After giving the order to the workers around him, Watt himself stepped into one of the Mild Bulls lined up in a row. Sinking into the enormous cavity in the middle of the Mechsteel’s chest, Watt steadied his breathing.
“Harmonizing... Start-up is check! No problems with response. Machine check is a go. All right, here I go. Watch where I’m stepping!”
A half-hearted warning whistle rang out as the individuals standing at the Mechsteel’s feet quickly dispersed. Getting sent flying by an eight-meter-tall giant would’ve left more than a scratch. The Mild Bulls checked the safety of their surroundings before they began to walk.
“Wh-Whoa...!”
“Hmm... I guess new recruits are bound to be a bit wobbly! Here—ease up. If you get too worked up, you won’t be able to move the way you need to. Doesn’t matter what it is—the real trick with anything is to not go overboard.”
“Th-Thank you, sir!”
Watt grasped the shoulder of a new recruit’s Mechsteel to steady it. By harmonizing their senses with those of their Mechsteels, pilots were able to move their massive, humanlike frames as if they were their own limbs. However, as the Mild Bulls had a drastically different balance than that of the human body, the uninitiated often failed to harmonize well.
“Though it’s cruel to expect too much out of a Bull when they were made to be cheap,” Watt added. “But hey, you youngsters can just count on this old man for all that.”
After all, Watt was the only ten-year veteran on the job. Lending a helping hand to the wobbly new recruits, Watt set about work himself. His Mild Bull’s massive frame headed toward the freight car before hefting up one of the shipping crates that had been loaded onboard.
While the Mild Bulls had ultimately become commonplace due to their affordable price, out of their rather devastating capabilities, the sole element that was truly eye-opening was their sheer strength. The way they safely lifted and carried the weighty shipping crates was a testament to their status as work machines.
Watt heard the shout as he was making steady progress unloading the crates.
“Oh no...!”
The frantic voice echoing in his ears, Watt instinctively spun around, only to see a shaking Mechsteel and a rapidly tilting crate. The crate finally went flying through the air. There, right where it would land, was a passenger who’d disembarked onto the station platform that very moment—a young girl.
“Watch out!!!”
Watt was already moving by the time he shouted, but he could only go so far running with a Mild Bull’s short legs. Instead, he decided to stake his luck on the Mild Bull’s one forte: its strength. Slamming against the ground with all his might, Watt used the recoil to send himself bolting forward. He didn’t even have the time to slow down after that. Watt stretched out his arms, falling forward into a slide. He caught the crate right above the girl’s head, just in the nick of time.
“Hrrr-mmmph!”
It was too soon to let his guard down, but it was another chance to show off the Mild Bull’s strength. Squeezing his extended arms tight, Watt sank his palms into the crate, which let out a creak as he fixed it in place. After waiting a moment to make sure it wouldn’t fall, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“Chief Sears! Are you all right?!”
Giving a nod to his coworkers who’d gathered around, Watt slowly moved the crate out of the way. Dismounting from his Mechsteel, he ran over to the young girl who’d very nearly been flattened as quickly as his legs would carry him, gliding into a ninety-degree bow on the spot.
“My deepest, utmost apologies, ma’am! Have you sustained any injuries?!”
Bow your head the moment something happens. That was the indispensable technique for avoiding any sort of trouble. Kid or not, don’t let your guard down! Mid-level managers were truly pitiful creatures.
Lifting his head up a bit after, Watt saw the girl was frozen there, eyes round. She was well-dressed. Likely a young woman from a well-to-do house—there was even the chance she could belong to the noble class. The fact that she had no one accompanying her did make that possibility seem a bit unlikely, though.
After thinking that far, however, Watt felt an odd sense of déjà vu fall across him. He’d seen those jade-colored eyes of hers somewhere before... With Watt dazed, the girl gave a warm smile and opened her mouth.
“You’re... No, I’m fine. I’m not injured. That could’ve gone much worse. I truly appreciate you saving me.”
“N-No, think nothing of it! It was our blunder that caused this in the first place!” Watt replied. “All that matters is that you’re unharmed.”
Flustered, Watt bowed his head again, secretly breathing a sigh of relief that the girl was more mild-mannered than he’d feared. It seemed he’d be able to avoid the worst-case scenario now.
“I’ll see you later, then,” the girl said. “Good luck with your work.” No more upset than that, she gave an elegant curtsy and left.
Just as the girl disappeared behind the ticket gates, the newcomer who had caused the accident made his way to Watt.
“I’m so sorry, Chief Sears! I just...!”
“Real dumb of you biting off more than you can chew like that!” Watt said. “How many times have I told you that new recruits should start with the smaller crates?”
The newcomer paused. “It’s just, I wanted to make money, so...”
Watt gave an especially large sigh and swallowed the urge to say anything further. Yeah, that’s right—they earn more the larger the crates they haul. He understood the newcomer’s feelings so well it hurt, but if that ended up causing an accident, it’d all be for nothing.
“We really lucked out that she was such a kind young lady, though,” Watt said. “For now, can I leave the cleanup here to you? I’m gonna go have a chat with the boss.”
“Ah! Does this mean I’m getting fired after all?!”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Watt said. “Nobody’s comin’ to bite you, okay? I’d just be more scared trying to keep secrets from the boss.”
Reassuring his young subordinate, Watt walked off, waving as he went.
“Ahhh...” Watt sighed. “My little Bull got all banged up too. No tellin’ what kind of lecture I’ll be in for...”
All on his own with the station building behind him, Watt’s shoulders sank dejectedly. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but even then, that didn’t mean he could just run away. Mid-level managers truly were pitiful creatures.