Miou Atsuse, President and CEO of Unison Human-Machine Technology, looked at her computer and murmured.
“Just as I thought.”
Within her expectations — but still a little disappointing.
A subordinate must have caught the murmur, because they turned toward her.
“What went wrong?”
“The Bomber. Invited him on as a dedicated Actor — turned us down.”
A polite, boilerplate rejection letter.
The subordinate’s eyes go wide and they lean toward her.
“Really? We’re a fairly well-known company. The Yakugi Technology interference is gone, the mining is going well — we’re in a period of growth, and he still——”
“That’s exactly why. If he joins us, he can’t fight anymore.”
The subordinate doesn’t look convinced despite Atsuse’s wry smile.
“Can’t fight — come on, if his Actanoid gets wrecked that’s a massive loss.”
True. Normally, Actors live in fear of their Actanoid sustaining damage. Even the ones known as bandit Actors — their preferred style is setting up with a sniper rifle and waiting for prey.
But the Bomber Atsuse has in mind is nothing like a bandit Actor.
To back up her read, she shows the subordinate the Bomber’s reply.
“It doesn’t apply to the Bomber. Look at how fast this reply came. That’s a no without needing to think about it. That Actor is hungry for a fight. Specifically — fights where the odds are against him.”
Why else would he keep riding an underprepared, stopgap loaner unit — the kind people mock as an antique?
Someone with that level of skill — showing his track record to a bank would get him a loan, and even without that, borrowing a higher-spec unit would more than pay for itself.
“He gets attacked everywhere he goes and keeps turning it around? I don’t know what kind of information network he has, but he’s deliberately showing up at fighting grounds. In an Allrounder, of all things.”
“I mean, it’s a bit too tidy to be coincidence. The Noppera incident too — it was supposedly targeting the rare metal deposit mining base, but the preparation it had made more sense as an ambush set up specifically for the Bomber.”
“That’s how much of a threat the Bomber was to Yakugi Technology. Which is exactly why I wanted him close — and now he’s turned us down.”
Unfortunate, Atsuse thinks — then reconsiders. Maybe it’s for the best.
The subordinate stares at the rejection letter with a solemn expression.
“I’d rather not make him an enemy.”
Atsuse nods deeply. Same.
“We absolutely don’t cross him. But that Bomber is going to keep fighting, keep earning grudges. Getting too close is bad for us if the fires spread. We keep things at a good working distance.”
As it happened, the speed of that reply said everything about how dangerous the Bomber was.
It had, at least, clarified what kind of relationship to maintain.
Even if that read was — entirely wrong.
While Unison Human-Machine Technology was reaching exactly the right conclusion through completely wrong reasoning, the topic of Chihaya — the Bomber — was coming up elsewhere in the New Frontier Development Zone.
In a room of a privately owned building, Kadohara Tameyuki, representative of the Kadohara Group, was reading a report from a subordinate.
One of the Kadohara Group’s subsidiary organizations, Yakugi Technology, had withdrawn from its New Frontier development operations.
It had been so abrupt — essentially a midnight flight — that no handover had occurred, and various pieces of information were coming in mixed with rumor.
But what mattered to Kadohara Tameyuki was the information on the individual Actor who had driven Yakugi Technology to withdraw.
“Taking down Yakugi Technology’s Noppera in an Allrounder. What kind of fight must that have been.”
The Noppera’s black box had definitely been sold to Unison Human-Machine Technology.
The Noppera was a rare Actanoid with flight capability — the only confirmed flying Actanoid currently in operation, putting it at a high technical level.
That said, with sniper rifles and AI as advanced as they are today, a lightly armored Actanoid hovering in the open makes a fine target. It has some nighttime utility, but units like the Cyclone — with their wide field of vision and superior image and data processing — would find it quickly.
The Noppera is a fragile unit.
And yet this Bomber, in poor nighttime visibility, with a low-spec Allrounder that lacks image processing capability, had taken down the fully prepared Noppera solo.
Kadohara glances at his bodyguard, Banba Suita, standing nearby.
“Is there no combat record? Yakugi’s computer should have had footage.”
At Kadohara’s question, Banba shakes his head.
“Yakugi seems to have bolted. No combat data found. Looks like Yakugi assumed the Bomber was targeting us and destroyed the information as a parting nuisance.”
“Useless.”
Banba starts grinning at the quietly contemptuous muttering.
Kadohara deletes the report from his computer and leans back in his chair.
“Losing the black box to Unison Human-Machine Technology hurts. That would have told us something. What has the Bomber done since?”
“No activity on the account — probably rerolled. The original account was set to hide everything from the start, so there’s nothing to go on.”
Prepared from the beginning to avoid being traced, Kadohara thinks, eyes closed, organizing his thoughts.
“By all accounts he fights recklessly, heavy on explosives. He doesn’t fear Actanoid damage or repair costs — which is another way of saying he has the financial backing to absorb it. He probably intended to bring us down from the start. Taking out Yakugi first — trimming an accessible piece of our strength. Or……a warning?”
He’s been meticulous about not leaving trails, but there are uncomfortable truths he’s sitting on.
The foreign faction involved in smuggling — the Mask Gardener — may have found another avenue and decided to settle accounts. Yakugi Technology had been the import channel for Kukumerka and Secondi Apples, so it’s worth considering.
Banba reads Kadohara’s expression.
“Should we track down the Bomber and eliminate him?”
“You really are an eager dog. Sit. Knowing who the Bomber is means nothing. We find out what faction is backing him first, then sweep them up all at once. Let him run for now.”
Banba keeps grinning even at being called a dog. Kadohara snorts at him.
“Besides, we can’t spend all our attention on the Bomber. Information came in from both the Mask Gardener’s connected bureaucrats and our own people — Amashiro Agricultural Development Group has started moving.”
“What’s happening?”
“A type of New Frontier timber suitable for construction materials has been found. They want to secure the transportation routes before anyone else does. Eliminate anything in the way. You’ll enjoy that, won’t you?”
At Kadohara’s mildly condescending delivery, Banba’s sadistic smile deepens.
“A shakedown operation? Where?”
“North of the Korogeiwa Garage — a location they’ve named the Akane Forest. Take the Shepherd with you.”