Chapter 67

SUB.15 Deciding that the hot air from the hair dryer had destroyed any bugs or transmitters that could be on her clothes, Kumokawa resumed operations, with Oumi in tow. They left the employee locker room and walked down a long underground passage. “Is there a real way to get out of here? Or even anywhere safe?” Kumokawa wondered aloud. “I’m after Academy City’s technology. You’re after that man, Kagun Kihara, who contacted us earlier… That means there’s no reason for us to stick to Baggage City, especially when it’s so dangerous.” Kumokawa and Oumi peeked around a corner of the passage. They both realized this place required as much careful attention as a shopping mall filled with zombies. And yet. “Nobody’s here,” said Oumi in a low voice. Kumokawa agreed but added, “That just makes it even creepier, doesn’t it?” No living humans. No dead humans, either. Nevertheless, military-grade helmets, bulletproof vests, and assault rifles littered the floor. There was no telling where their users had gone or if they were even safe anymore. “Either this was Academy City or the Guardians…,” remarked Kumokawa. “Both would be very dangerous.” From Oumi’s point of view, they were the same—they both wielded unknown technology. She couldn’t get a handle on the situation, and it was setting all her nerves on edge. Kumokawa, however, thought there was more going on here. “…But the corpses and bloodstains have all been taken away and cleaned,” she pointed out. “What could it mean?” “Now that you mention it, neither of them is the type to go wipe up the bottom of their soup bowls with bread.” “Hmmm-hmm-hmm-hmmm!” Suddenly, the humming of a girl echoed around them. This place was empty but reeked of death. The girl’s pretty, ringing voice was out of place here. Kumokawa and Oumi slowly went around the corner. The ninja, who was no taller than an elementary school girl, pointed to one of the assault rifles on the floor with her little finger. “Who do you think the gear belongs to?” “Academy City, I think… The attackers, in other words. I can tell by the tech they’re using.” “But weren’t the Guardians using cutting-edge weaponry, too? The stuff Academy City gave them?” “Are you sure you realize how fast ‘cutting-edge’ evolves in Academy City?” Kumokawa bent over to pick up an assault rifle, but Oumi grabbed the maid by the arm, stopping her. “Then I may know what they’re after,” she said. “Hmmm-hmm-hmm-hmmm-hmm-hmm!” The humming was getting closer. Strictly speaking, its source was a girl. And naturally, she was the very one who had created this incomprehensible mess of Academy City gear on the floor—all these helmets and bulletproof vests and such. Her goal was simple: Create an incomprehensible situation, then wait for a certain someone to be drawn out. In other words, it was a trap. Nobody would come near if they saw a ton of corpses surrounded by rivers of blood. They’d sense the danger and get away from the place. But what if only their brand-new gear was left on the floor? That would be eerie, but people wouldn’t immediately decide to run away. People were drawn to that which they couldn’t understand—they’d investigate it. And the bulletproof vests and assault rifles. In a situation this dangerous, even the most pious saint wouldn’t balk at grabbing a couple of them. Oumi went over to a bulletproof vest on the floor, squatted down, looked around, and then sighed. “I knew it seemed too bulbous. There’s hand grenades hidden underneath. They’re set so that the pin gets pulled out when you lift up the vest. Pick it up and boom.” “I’m impressed you noticed that.” “I’m not looking at the view—I’m looking at the intentions of the person who created the view.” If that was the case, then the other pieces of gear were probably also booby-trapped. There was always a possibility the rifles’ internals had been messed with, even though one couldn’t tell by looking at their exteriors. Kumokawa put a hand on her hip and shook her head. “In that case, we should get out of here… What are you doing?” “This is Academy City technology, right?” said Oumi. “It’s not linked to psychic powers, but there’s no harm in picking up a few pieces of gear.” “…Didn’t you just explain it’s a trap?” “Even traps can be a valuable resource. When you’re low on ammo on the battlefield, looking around for land mines or wired-up hand grenades is an old trick.” “Are all ninjas these days into FPS games or something?” It seemed like the pint-sized Oumi seriously intended to disengage the traps. Kumokawa waved her hands around, flustered, but didn’t want to stop the girl, lest she mess up the process somehow. “I really think getting greedy at times like these never ends well,” she pointed out. “This isn’t a Hollywood movie,” Oumi assured her. “Bombs that complicated never show up in actual fights. At basic level, a good weapon is easy to set up and easy to break down. Hand grenades are safe as long as you’re holding down the lever. If you do that and stick something else into it in place of the safety pin, like a clip or something, you can disable the trap.” “Remind me again how close you have to be to a hand grenade for it to be lethal?” “There are a bunch of different kinds of antipersonnel frag grenades, but most have a radius of over ten meters.” “I’m gonna be honest with you—I really want to run away!” “Don’t push me. Don’t even sneeze. This is a simple task, but the price of failure is fatal. This is no time for jokes—not if you don’t want to end up in pieces.” “Hmmm-hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm-hmmm.” “Just stay still.” “Look, come on!” “What?” “Don’t bend over like that—just sit on the floor. I’ve got an unimpeded view of your panties from here.” “Who cares about that?! Just don’t do anything!” “Hmm-hmmm!” “Stay perfectly still. Perfectly still!” “I feel like you’re the one shaking harder here. Why’d you start right when you sat on the floor?” “It’s colder than I thought. And if you want the honest to God truth, I really need to go to the bathroom!” “Uh, you’re literally holding down a hand grenade lever right now!” “Shut up! Just don’t move at all, got it? Otherwise, this thing is gonna blow!” “Hmm-hm-la-lahhh!” And then something bad happened. “Hmm-hmmm… Huh?” Enshuu Kihara stopped skipping and humming as she arrived. She was confused. There was nobody in the passage where she’d laid the traps. In fact, there was no sign anyone had even triggered a trap. Just to be sure, she shined an ultraviolet light around, but there were no footprints or anything on the floor, either. “Aww, man. Too early?” A troubled look came to Enshuu’s face. “Well, I set up twenty cockroach traps. Maybe a different one went off.” Meanwhile, Oumi tossed aside the bulletproof vest in her hand. “The fibers and plating inside are all melted! This is useless! I can’t even analyze this!” “Paint splatter gimmicks are used for shoplifting prevention these days. There’s no reason the inside has to be paint, though—I heard they developed a chemical that can melt aviation materials but is safe for humans to touch for storming into places. They probably strung it out like blood vessels on the inside of the plate, I think.” “Argh! Nooo…” “Look, I know you just wasted the effort, but… Anger or disappointment—pick one, please, Little Miss Inner Thigh Nuzzler. I have to say, if we got attacked right now, it would probably be the most pathetic way in the world to go out.”