Chapter 13

1 “We’ve blown our budget?!” The Imperial capital, Yunmelngen. In the metropolis of the largest military power in the world, Commander Mismis wailed, “What?! How did this happen, Iska?!” “Shh. This’ll be a disaster if a commanding officer overhears us.” Iska held his finger to his lips in an attempt to quiet the commander down. They were in an Imperial forces conference room, so one of their superiors could walk right down the hall at any moment. “B-but how did this happen?!” Commander Mismis placed her head in her hands. Despite her childish behavior, petite appearance, and baby face, she was a full-grown twenty-two-year-old. “Iska, I just need to ask again. Are you sure that our unit blew the budget? You don’t happen to mean your spending money?” “Why would I blow through my money? I meant the 907’s annual budget.” “The one that HQ gives us each year as a lump sum?” “That’s it. The funds we use for procuring bullets for training, maintaining our guns, purchasing other equipment, and receiving medical checkups when we get injured. We blew through it all.” “Isn’t that money super important?!” That was exactly why he’d reported it to her. Iska let out a sigh and pointed at a pile of documents on the desk. “Well, just take a look at all these,” Iska said. “We have a mountain of claim receipts.” “Since when?!” Mismis gingerly picked up one sheet from the gigantic pile. Then she stared at it so intensely, Iska thought she might bore holes right through the paper. “What’s this?” Mismis had no memory of submitting the claim in her hand. “Did you ask for this, Iska?” “It wasn’t me,” Iska replied. “Hey, do any of you know where this Derrick-made GAX22 new Gatling gun came from? I don’t remember ever ordering this…” “That’s mine,” Jhin, the silver-haired sniper, said. He was leaning back in his seat in a corner of the room. “It should come in next week. And we paid for it in one lump sum. You ordered it, boss.” “Jhin! This cost three months of our entire budget!” “A soldier needs weapons.” Jhin was flipping through the pages of a firearms catalog. He was considered a first-class sniper, and he made it a habit of checking out the latest guns available. “We’re always trying to scrimp and save, so we can afford to splurge every once in a while.” “B-but I have more to say!” Mismis held an even more extravagant expense request in her hand. “What about this mono-channel wireless system Ebolba-made PQ9 tank? This is yours, too, isn’t it, Jhin?!” “Nope, I didn’t order it.” “Huh? Then who did?” Mismis looked around the room. “Iska, you didn’t…” “Don’t look at me,” Iska said. “But if it wasn’t you or Jhin, then…then that means…” “Uh-huh, yup! That’s mine!” In another section of the room, a red-headed girl named Nene vigorously lifted her arm up as she trained with weights. “Nene, this costs half our annual budget!” “Aw, but…it’s the super-popular new model, so there was only one left.” “Ugh… How could you all splurge on this stuff…?” Commander Mismis let out a small sigh. Just then, Iska happened to look at the receipt at the very bottom of the pile. It appeared as though someone had tucked it away, so it would be out of sight. “What’s this one?” he asked. “Ah! No, you can’t, Iska!” “‘Full barbecue course for a meeting’? Huh? I don’t remember any of us having a meeting at this place. Commander Mismis, do you know anything about this?” “Urk!” She flinched. Jhin, who had approached from the side, pulled out another receipt from a second barbecue restaurant. “Hey, this one’s from yesterday. What’s going on, boss?” “Oh. Um… It’s not what it looks like…” “Were you going around using our unit budget on barbecue places?” “I—I was just…um…hungry and…” “So you were?” “I’m sorry!” They’d caught the real culprit. Jhin and Nene’s expenditures had drained the budget close to depletion, but Mismis’s daily barbecue binge had dealt the final blow. “Everyone, listen! Nothing good will come from self-reflection! What’s done is done. So we should look ahead and start saving up to make up our budget!” Mismis said. “No, I think this does call for some self-reflection.” “I have a great idea!” Mismis ignored Jhin and plowed ahead, pulling out a part-time work agency magazine. “Ta-dah! We just need to get jobs!” It just so happened that the Imperial forces allowed moonlighting. In fact, headquarters highly encouraged their soldiers to contribute to the rest of society. “We could help people move heavy luggage or work as lifeguards at a pool or the beach. Or even teach people how to pitch tents for camp. There’s tons of stuff we could do.” “Those won’t net us enough cash.” Jhin peered at the magazine. “We couldn’t even pay back your barbecue bills with jobs like those, boss. Iska, have you found anything promising?” “The best one is, uhhh…‘Daiban Atelier assistant recruitment campaign.’ I think that pays the highest.” In other words, they would be helping out at an artist’s workshop. Famous artisans usually had apprentices, so it seemed unusual that this studio was requesting part-time assistance. “Why not?! This is it, Iska!” Mismis excitedly said. “It pays the highest, after all!” “But we’d be helping an artist. Are you sure amateurs like us should apply…?” “It’ll be fine. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers. We need to save up enough to pay off these expenses!” “I think we should discuss how much of our budget you spent on barbecue, boss…” “So make sure your days off are free for work, everyone!” the commander declared, clutching the magazine. 2 The Imperial capital, Second Sector. Their destination was at the edge of a large area where the residential and business districts met. “Is this the Daiban Atelier?” “Why is it a gigantic museum? It’s like a golf course!” The grounds of the studio were so vast that the building on the other side was blurry. When they spotted the atelier, which was integrated with a museum, Jhin and Commander Mismis both stopped in their tracks. On the other hand… Iska didn’t even bother to hide his surprise when faced with the fantastical ambience oozing from the art museum. “Th-this is—” he stuttered. “Iska?” “How did I not notice? This is the atelier of that Daiban, the living national treasure!” Appreciating the arts was one of Iska’s hobbies. It didn’t seem like a pastime one of the most distinguished swordsmen in the Empire would engage in, but he was a fine arts fiend and would often travel to faraway neutral cities for museum visits. Iska couldn’t stop the shudders that racked his body. “Commander, a world-renowned artist works here!” “What? Really?” “The human treasure, Daiban! They call him the Artist of Fire!” The artist worked in all forms of art from ceramics to calligraphy, poetry, sculpture, painting, music, and even gourmet food—and he always pushed each medium to its fullest potential. That was Daiban. His name was known worldwide, and he had die-hard fans in nations all over the world. “Some people think that as long as he lives in the Imperial capital, the Sovereignty won’t launch an all-out war. He’s famous enough for rumors like that to exist about him.” “The Sovereignty?!” “Yes. If anything were to happen to him, it would be a huge loss to the world.” Was he really such a formidable man that he could sway the Sovereignty, which saw the world in black and white when it came to the Empire? It sounded too good to be true. “Actually, I’ve heard of him, too,” Jhin murmured. “Supposedly there’s an old man with more authority than a king living in the Imperial capital. You don’t mean that—” “Exactly!” A large man appeared in the entrance and immediately answered the sniper’s question. “I’m his top apprentice, Gorie. Welcome to Master Daiban’s atelier!” The man was about the height of three Mismises stacked from head to toe. Though his features were friendly, he looked like a pro wrestler from the neck down, which gave him a mismatched look. “Are you the part-timers from the military? Three in total, then?” “Y-yes! I’m Commander Mismis. This is Iska, and that’s Jhin.” Nene was spending her day off doing military training exercises. “I’ll introduce you to the master straightaway. Follow me!” Gorie led them into the workshop behind the museum. “Th-this artist might be a lot more famous than I thought. Say, Jhin, are you sure we’re gonna be okay?” “I don’t know the first thing about art,” Jhin answered. “What about you, Iska?!” “I’m not very confident I can do this, either…,” Iska said, mirroring everyone’s sentiments. He was just an art enthusiast. He didn’t know anything about making it. He couldn’t even imagine what they’d be asked to do. “Master! Master!” Gorie knocked on a door labeled PRODUCTION ROOM. “The part-timers from the Imperial forces are here. We’re coming in!” He barged in without waiting for a response. And there they saw… “Nuaaaagh!” A growling elderly man. This was Daiban, the living treasure. He sported a full white beard and was large enough to rival the size of his apprentice. His eyes glinted with the intensity of a warrior. “Hrmm…This won’t work!” He hadn’t noticed Iska and the others yet. Even his top apprentice hadn’t seemed to have gotten through to him, as he hadn’t taken his eyes off his current work, a painting. “Sir, the part-timers—” “I can’t believe it… How could I create such an uninspired painting?!” Daiban stood up. As the master artist picked up a bright red statue placed along a wall filled with many other similar sculptures, Gorie cried out, “Blast! Everybody, get down on the ground!” “What?” “Master Daiban is a perfectionist. He can’t bear to leave any mistakes in this world, so he makes sure to wipe them from existence—with explosives!” They all instantly ducked. Being Imperial forces members, Iska’s team had no trouble quickly getting out of the way of explosives. “Begone, you bungled job!” Daiban threw the statue at the painting. Then it exploded—and spectacularly at that. There was a roar accompanied by a rush of fire as the painting burst into flames. Daiban was known as the Artist of Fire. Though he was a living treasure, he was also infamous in the Imperial capital for being dangerous. “Haah…haah… This is my true masterpiece, the Statue of Despair! This way, my blunders can at least bring beauty to this world as they’re blown to smithereens.” “You almost blew us to smithereens, too, you know!” “Hm?” The man finally turned around. It seemed he really hadn’t noticed anyone was there until Mismis shouted at him. “Wh-what was that explosion?!” “Oho, a young lady. Are you interested in my masterpiece, the Statue of Despair?” “Not even a little bit!” His so-called masterpiece was a method of blowing up his rejected works. After watching the statue explode with the slightest impact, Iska and the others were filled with the urge to back away until they noticed another dozen more Statues of Despair lining the wall. They had enough military training to know what that involved. “Well, sir, if you would,” Gorie said, offering the part-timers up. “Mm-hmm. I am the nation’s living treasure Daiban!” The artist gave them a hearty nod and pointed directly at Mismis, who was in front of him. “You, young lady—tell me what art is!” “What? I don’t know how to answer if you put me on the spot! I’m just a soldier. This is way out of my depth…” “Then I’ll teach you!” The brawny man looked at Mismis, Iska, and Jhin, then raised a fist in the air. “Art is a battle with the universe within you! You build up your spirit and your creativity until you create a new universe. You get my drift?” “I think this old man would be better off committed.” Jhin muttered an off-color comment. But Daiban himself had said everything he wanted and had already turned around. “Whew… Doesn’t matter when—teaching the youth always gets me fired up.” “You haven’t taught us anything, though,” Jhin objected. “Now, you all go out and find your own new universes and create art for the new era.” “Like I just said—” “Gor!” Daiban summoned his apprentice. He was ignoring Jhin, of course. “I’m a busy man. Gor, you watch them.” “I’ll take over, then. All right, part-timers, to the courtyard! Allow me to introduce you to all the art the master has made.” Courtyard of the workshop. The lush green lawn was almost like a golf course. The courtyard had been made to serve as an outdoor exhibition hall. “Wow! There’s a lot of people!” “We get plenty of tourists from overseas. Daiban is famous all over the world, after all.” Iska and company followed Gorie to an incomplete area of the courtyard that was not yet open to the public. “You’re all lucky. We have an established custom of showing part-timers a generous sample of the master’s greatest works. All pieces are famous.” “What? Really?” “Of course. We start here!” Gorie pointed at a sculpture. Iska thought it looked a little like a three-legged cephalopod. …Is that an octopus? Or maybe a jellyfish? …No, wait, it’s definitely a mollusk. He hadn’t heard of a three-legged mollusk before, though. He considered outright asking what it was. But he also knew that his question could be interpreted as a slight to the artist. “Huh? What’s this supposed to be? It looks like something a kid made.” “Commander, did you really just say that?!” Gorie didn’t seem to take offense at all. “Ha-ha, the master is famous for being incredibly creative with his art. Now, let me teach you all about it. This is an early representative of Daiban’s work—Dogfight. Look at that wonderful energy.” “Is this jellyfish supposed to be a…dog?” “Yes. And the way it squishes around like that is how he expresses its vigor. It’s brimming with the power and energy of dogs in a scuffle.” It really wasn’t. It just looked too much like a jellyfish for Unit 907 to see it as anything but. Iska, Mismis, and Jhin all battled the urge to voice their impressions as they exchanged glances. “Hey, boss, don’t you think a kid could come up with something better than this? Are you sure that old man is actually famous?” “I-I’ve been wanting to ask that, too! Iska, you know a lot about art, don’t you? What do you think of this?” “Uh, um…I’m afraid I don’t know enough about this style of art…” “Hey, I’m going to just ask.” Jhin wasn’t one to feel daunted. “I have no clue how much this statue is worth. Could you explain that to me?” “An excellent question!” Gorie nodded. “When art is too advanced for its time, the people don’t understand it. Though progressive art attempts to break new ground, history shows that it can cause all kinds of problems and tragedies—” “Okay, get to the point. Just tell me the value of this thing in terms of cold, hard cash.” “You’d be able to buy a whole Imperial military aircraft by selling one of these—one of the new aircrafts, even.” “What?!” Mismis yelled. The broke members of Unit 907 had a huge case of sticker shock. “You could get rich with this sculpture alone… Maybe I should become an artist, too,” Mismis said. “How ridiculous! Master was only able to produce this statue after doing years of research into beauty. You can’t mimic this that easily.” “I think I could, though…” Mismis eyed the sculpture of what definitely looked like a three-tentacled jellyfish. “Then is there a deeper reason why this statue of a dog looks like a jellyfish?” “Of course, that was an aspect he deeply considered.” Gorie was full of confidence. “The master once said this regarding the subject: ‘I sneezed so hard that I broke off one of the legs.’” “How did that involve any consideration?!” “Allow me to show you his next masterpiece!” Gorie cut Mismis off and continued walking. “Uh, wait!” The next work was displayed on a marble pedestal. “Even now, Daiban is still brimming with inspiration. This statue is part of his collection from this year—Work No. 7, the Singing Fruit, the first of its series. What do you think?” This one was a hand grenade. It was as though someone had taken a disabled bomb right off the production line and plopped it on a pedestal. That was all it was. “Iska, I—” “Wait, Commander! You don’t need to say everything that comes to mind… Besides, I agree with you.” He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Iska could tell that the strange jellyfish-dog abstraction was a sculpture, at least. But this? “Mr. Gorie, where’s Master Daiban’s piece?” “It’s right in front of your eyes.” “But all I see is a disabled grenade.” “Then I’ll explain it to you!” Gorie whipped his finger out and pointed it at the explosive. “This installation—in which the artist likens this cute, round grenade to a fruit that ‘sings’ through exploding—could not have been completed without Daiban’s inventiveness, compositional skills, and genius grasp of poetics. It really showcases his explosive knack for art.” “Even I could just set a deactivated bomb on a pedestal,” Jhin murmured. Gorie’s eyes glittered when he picked up Jhin’s comment. “Jhin, was it? I’m afraid that’s a big misconception.” “What?” “Take a look at that intact pin. This is a genuine article bought right from Imperial headquarters. It’s still quite capable of detonating!” “That’s even worse! How could you expose an undetonated grenade to the elements like this?!” Headquarters was also firmly against the illegal trafficking of weapons. …Or they should have been, at least. “Daiban has some secret fans at headquarters, you see. They’re generous folks. They don’t mind sneaking him one or two dozen grenades.” “What a ridiculous old man. Make sure he stores those safely!” “They’re in the Production Room we were in earlier.” “That’s the most dangerous spot he could put them!” The grenades were in the same room as the Statues of Despair. If even one of them accidentally ignited… “I’m pretty sure handling undetonated grenades would fall under the hazardous material treatment laws. We better report this right aw—” “All right, on to the next piece!” “Hey!” Ignoring Jhin, Gorie headed farther into the courtyard. “We’ve only looked at Daiban’s man-made art so far. Next, we’ll see the vivid pieces he created while grappling with nature.” This one was another piece from that year, New Work No. 13, Mother Nature. That was what was written on a small label at the entrance of the museum. It turned out to be a single desiccated leaf. Iska and the others didn’t want to believe it, but… “This is the master’s newest piece.” “I knew it!” All three of them had the exact same reaction. “This is just a single fallen leaf. But you can feel the distilled energy from Mother Nature emanating from it, can’t you? The way he purposefully placed it on concrete to highlight its vivid green hue can only be described as magnificent.” “Uh, that’s just a dry leaf…” “And it’s not even green. It’s brown…” “And that thing’s definitely lost whatever energy from Mother Nature it had when it dried up…” “Allow me to continue my explanation!” Gorie was hearing none of the very valid points that Iska and his unit were making. “We auctioned off the right to be the first person to view this piece to four hundred aristocrats from all over the world.” “Four hundred?!” “How much spare time do these aristocrats even have?!” “They had a tough fight for five hours, and in the end, the auction finished at a sum that was easily on the same level as the Imperial forces’ total budget.” “I don’t get it! It just doesn’t make sense!” Commander Mismis’s eyes were completely out of focus. “This little leaf is just…ah!” As Mismis pointed at the leaf, it floated off on the wind. Then it flew beyond the garden and disappeared from sight. “Did his newest work just disappear on us?!” “Wh-what do we do now?!” “Please calm down, everyone. That’s exactly what I’m here for.” Gorie confidently raised his hand. Then he bent down and picked up a leaf in the courtyard, painstakingly placing it in the same spot the earlier leaf had been in. “……Whew.” He was sweating bullets, and his expression was grim, as though he had just fought in a battle that would decide the very fate of the world. “I just barely managed to fix it.” “How?!” “You didn’t manage to fix anything!” “And this one’s a green leaf instead of a dry one now!” When it comes to art, it seems that anything goes. Even Unit 907’s protests couldn’t shake Gorie’s overpowering confidence. “Lastly, I’ll show you the piece Master Daiban is proudest of,” he said. This one was Masterpiece No. 9, Lord. But wasn’t it just a fuzzy dog? Or maybe a curled-up cat? Based on the name of the work, the sculpture had to be modeled off the supreme authority of the Empire, the Lord, but the piece in front of them definitely didn’t look human. “His Excellency was absolutely thrilled by this statue and appointed Master Daiban a national living treasure because of it.” “Uh-huh…” “What even is art…?” “I’m starting to worry about the state of our country.” Apparently, this sculpture was priceless. Supposedly, it was considered so sublime that the appraisers had been left in a state of dread after laying eyes on it. “Once, a would-be thief broke in, but when they saw this piece, their soul was purified. They were sobbing as they turned themselves in.” “That can’t be true!” “There’s no way it would make them cry!” “Now this is sounding like some weird cult thing.” The three of them looked at each other. They weren’t even trying to hide the fact that they were exchanging bewildered glances in front of Daiban’s apprentice. “What do we do, boss? Do you think we can actually work at a place like this? I don’t think I could understand the old guy’s art even if I wanted to. There’s no way I can help him.” “Uh… I’m not confident I could work here, either. Iska, I’m leaving it in your hands!” “B-but I can’t, either!” Even Iska, who loved art, couldn’t make heads or tails of Daiban’s oeuvres. Jhin and Mismis had already given up trying to understand entirely. “All right, I think it’s about time to get you started on the actual work.” “Grk?!” “Now, come with me.” Ignoring the fact that he’d frightened all three of the part-timers, Gorie energetically pointed ahead. Daiban Atelier. Music Room. “This is the room Master Daiban shuts himself into when he’s composing music.” It was filled with classical musical instruments, such as a piano, a violin, and a trumpet. There were even rows of indigenous instruments from various countries. “Wow! This place is huge! It might even be as big as the forces’ large conference room.” “It’s pretty messy, though.” When the commander and Jhin looked in, they saw hundreds of sheets of handwritten musical scores strewn all over the floor. Stacks of scores were also piled up on the desk. Some had even been pinned to the walls and ceiling, meaning there were probably some thousands of sheets of music in all. Just then, Iska noticed something. “Oh. Is this an opera?” There were stage directions written in the margins of some scores. Opera was a fusion of theater and choir. The art form was so popular that some called it the queen of arts. Iska had even traveled to the opera house in a neutral city in the past to watch a performance. “Oh, I know what those are!” Mismis said, suddenly seeming motivated. She started to pick up the sheets of music strewn on the ground. “Wow. That’s a huge chorus, plus the solo and accompaniment seem fancy—” “Exactly!” Gorie suddenly held up a stack of sheet music. “This is unmistakably an opera. And it’s no ordinary opera, either. These thousands of sheets of music are meant for a single musical piece!” “What?!” “Th-that’s something…” How many hundreds of people were supposed to be in this production? They’d have to spend dozens of hours onstage, too. “This is Master Daiban’s once-in-a-lifetime grand chorus. It’s called Our Last Crusade or the Rise of a New World Love Sonata!” “Wow!” “Based on that name, it’s got to be a great work…” “Compared to the sculptures from earlier, this is way better,” agreed Jhin, who was definitely no purveyor of fine art. An opera that needed that much sheet music had to be good. “I’m sure you can feel all the passion imbued within the handwritten scores! It contains a ballad that offers a new world to the new generation, and a requiem that leads grieving souls suffering from heartbreak to solace!” “W-well, that’s something…” “I—I think even I get that it’s a really big deal?” Mismis said. “It has spirit, at the very least.” “Alas, the project is so big that it’s remained unfinished since it was commissioned thirty years ago.” “““Then it’s doomed!””” Unit 907 cried out in a chorus of their own. Their voices echoed throughout the music room. Daiban had started this project three decades ago. The commissioner must have been incredibly patient. They had to wonder how the person was feeling as they waited for the artist to finish. “Now, let’s keep going. So about the opera, Our Last Crusade or the Rise of a New World Love Sonata—which I’ll call Last Love for short…” “…Oh. That suddenly makes it feel more accessible.” “Sure, okay…,” Jhin said. “It sounds pretty cute. I like it,” Mismis added. “This right here makes up all the sheet music that Master Daiban rejected. Basically, I’d like to ask you to clean this up.” He was referring to the pages strewn about on the desk and floor. Upon closer inspection, they saw that some of the sheets had been haphazardly scribbled over, while others had been torn up in a fit of artistic frenzy. “Normally, Master Daiban would just throw a Statue of Despair at these pages and burn them like any other botched work, but there are some important scores in here, too. Instead, we’d like you to tear them into tiny pieces using a shredder.” “Okay! That seems like something we could do.” Commander Mismis felt relieved as she enthusiastically raised her hand. “We’ll do our very best!” “I’m counting on you. Now, I’m going to go help the master. I’ll be back in an hour.” They got to work on their new assignment. It turned out that shredding paper was a lot more work than Iska and the others had expected. They were cleaning up a mess that was thirty years in the making, after all. And there were several thousand sheets to deal with. Some of the pages of the score had been relegated to the corners of the room and were covered in dust. “Cough… Cough… Hey, Iska,” Mismis said. “The dust is really bad over here.” “My sheets have mold growing all over them,” Iska replied. “I’m glad I brought gloves just in case.” He was also wearing a mask. As Iska and Mismis systematically shredded the paper, Jhin took the scraps and packed them into plastic bags. However… Things spiraled out of control from there. “Urgh. The shredder is jammed?! What’s going on? There’s oil paint stuck to these!” “Oww! Someone dropped the blade of a chisel over here!” The shredder kept breaking down on them. And even though they were in the music room, there were blades from sculpting tools mixed in with the sheet music. “Iska, the shredder isn’t working…” “It’s probably overheated. We’re trying to run it at full capacity when it probably hasn’t been used in years. Commander, I see some scissors over there—how about we cut them by hand?” They switched over to shredding the sheet music the old-fashioned way. But there were still mountains of paper left. “Huh? Commander Mismis, that particular score looks important since it’s held together by a clip. Are you sure you should be cutting it?” “It’s all right, no worries.” Commander Mismis hummed as she trimmed away the score with her scissors. “This was also on the ground. Daiban would put the important music on his desk, of course. So this has to be one of the pieces he wants to get rid of.” “Got it.” An hour passed… “So how’s it going?” Gorie came back, sounding as upbeat as ever. “Oh, the shredder stopped working, so I see you’ve switched to manual labor. Sorry about that.” “It’s all right. We just finished!” Commander Mismis said. They’d shredded everything, stuffed all the paper into bags, and even swept away the dust. The music room looked brand-new. “Splendid! The Imperial forces have always had skilled members. I’m sure the master will also…huh?” Gorie looked around the room. “What’s wrong, Mr. Gorie?” “Huh? I’m pretty sure there was a score held together by a clip on the desk. Maybe it fell on the floor?” “They were clipped together?” “It’s the completed eighth movement, so we tried to keep it separated from the rest.” The entire unit fell silent. Jhin and Iska stared at the scissors in Commander Mismis’s hand. “Commander…” “C’mon…” “S-so, um…” Commander Mismis gulped, sweating buckets. Then she stuck out her finger. “I think it might be in there…” She pointed at the plastic bags. The musical scores were in there, shredded into an unrecognizable form. “What?!” “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Gorie!” “I—I mean… Everyone makes mistakes. We only lost a part of it, and that’s nothing compared to the whole thing.” Even Gorie looked like he was panicking. “Let’s apologize to the master. The best thing to do is to be honest.” “D-do you think he’ll forgive us?” “…” “Why aren’t you saying anything?!” “I-it’ll be fine… Master Daiban is very strict on himself and others, but he has the capacity to forgive honest mistakes.” As worry came to Commander Mismis’s face, Gorie gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder. “I think he’ll forgive you after he carves a pattern into your back with a chisel.” “No thank you!” Daiban Atelier. Production Room. When Iska peeked into the room, he saw the artist Daiban at its center. “Ngaaaah?!” But there was something off about him. He was standing in front of a statue of a young woman and groaning as though he was grappling with something. “Wrong… This isn’t what I imagine when I think of a young lady!” “That’s the master’s next work,” Gorie sneakily informed them from behind the door. Its title was Chrysalis and Butterfly. He was attempting to depict the anguish of a girl on the cusp of womanhood as her body takes on its adult form. But if he emphasized her womanliness, the statue would lose some of its girlish innocence. On the other hand, when he focused on emphasizing a girl’s childlike nature, the statue no longer seemed mature. “Master? Master Daiban?” “Uraaaaaaah!” “Master!” “Gwaaaaah!” It was no use. He was completely oblivious to their presence. Even though the four of them were standing right behind him. “This won’t do. I only have a month to complete it for the summer grand exhibition! But I haven’t found the perfect girl yet!” Daiban started to run his hands through his hair. Just then, he turned around. “Oh? What is it, Gor? And what are you all here for?” “Actually, sir—” “Hm? You!” Daiban pushed aside his apprentice and leaned forward. He stared at Commander Mismis without blinking as she gaped back at him. “What? You mean me?” she asked. “It’s you!” “Eep?!” Mismis was terrified as he grabbed her shoulders, but the old man was so engrossed in whatever he’d found that he didn’t notice. “You’re my ideal young lady!” “Excuse me?!” Mismis had an innocent face and the height of a child, but she was a twenty-two-year-old. And as an adult woman, she was very well-developed at the bust and hips—even more so than the typical person. She perfectly embodied the duality of “girl” and “woman” that Daiban was looking for. “You’re brimming with naughtiness!” “But I’m not naughty! I’m innocent!” Mismis turned red and yelled, but Daiban, the living treasure, was already raising his voice. “Take off your clothes!” “Whaaat?!” “Hold up, old man.” Jhin stopped Daiban from behind before the artist could corner Mismis. “That’s not part of the job. If you want her to model, you’ll have to compensate us fairly.” “Oh?” “But you haven’t asked whether I would model, Jhin!” “Calm down, boss. Would you rather he carve a design into your back? Think about which is better.” “I don’t wanna do either!” But the deal was struck. Mismis was formally selected as Daiban’s model. In exchange, he declared Unit 907 even for destroying part of Last Love. However… Even though Daiban requested that Mismis model in the buff, she was adamant in turning him down. Instead, they settled on having her pose in her underwear. “Wow, Jhin. You really saved us there.” “That was an easy bargain to make.” “Iska! Jhin! Why are you two just drinking tea and abandoning me, your own commander?!” Mismis was on the sofa in the Production Room, sprawled out in her underwear. Her whole face was red, and her shoulders quivered.