Miko Yuugiri Miko
I size up Miko Yuugiri Miko. Despite the crude shotgun and rough curses, she's shaking hard. The barrel hovers somewhere between her chin and throat. Is she aiming for her head? Looks like she's mistaken me for someone else. Better to take her down. If Miko dies like this, it'll leave a bad taste. No, it'd make me seriously depressed.
She's the first NPC you meet. If you die early in the game, you wake up right here facing her. Dark red hair, white but worn gown. Underneath, a black tank top and baggy dolphin pants—striking impression. That outfit steals your eyes, but she heals you for free and whispers all sorts of explanations. Decadent vibe few players could hate. Petite frame's a bonus too.
But players never knew Miko's past. Broker and illegal doctor. Lazy slob, but skills top-notch. Loaded with suspiciously shady implants. Why she holed up in the Wasteland? Game never says. No dedicated storyline. After free heal at start, mid-game she won't treat without pay. Folks guessed DLC, but no dice there either. Sometimes vanishes late-game.
Veiled in mystery, but talk to her and you learn: Miko clings to life loosely, cyanide vial between molars, ready to die anytime. Tough enough to pull that trigger.
Take her down. How? Popped in my head the second I saw her shotgun to her temple. Like movies—chop the neck, lights out. I'll try that.
Got the strength and speed. Just dial it right.
"Don't come closer, you fucking mutt!"
She catches me moving. Click-clack—loads the shotgun. Wasn't chambered before? Always death-ready, but doesn't wanna die.
"Calm down."
"Calm? Calm?! You psycho bitch, you think I look calm?! Even if you're not Ryu Cheon's hunting dog, breaking into my place? Calm my ass?"
Ryu Cheon's hunting dog? So Miko's on the run from Ryu Cheon. Makes sense she'd blast her own brains. Even Ryu Cheon can't extract data from shotgun-shredded gray matter.
Second person tangled with Ryu Cheon already. I grin, amused, raise both hands.
"I'm Soo. Not Ryu Cheon's dog."
"Then who? Zailek's butcher? Ha! Now Zailek's sniffing my research too?"
Miko, girl, why you wrapped up in so much drama?
"Nah. Here to buy an ID chip."
"You expect me to buy that? Why rip the door off?"
"Sandstorm didn't hit."
"...What?"
She's got that "what bullshit is this bitch spouting?" face staring at me. Hard to process.
Miko's a genius. Knows it. But that simple line stumps her. Ripped door 'cause no sandstorm? Means she'd have left it if storm hit? What the hell's the connection—
Can't think further. Left 20 meters gap, but suddenly Soo's in her face. Blinked in shock, sure, but how this fast?
"You—!"
Thought ends. Gotta shred her brain quick. Finger on trigger. Weight it. Creak—pulls.
But first—thwack! My hand blade strikes her nape.
"Eek!"
"Oops."
No knockout. Movies make it look easy. Stance and force off?
"Ryu Cheon's dog!! Gonna slice my neck!!"
Miko shrieks, jams shotgun to her head again.
"Ooh."
Coulda shot me, but insists on self-brain-blast. Ruthless. Never saw this in-game.
Impressive.
I beam, palm out. Creak—trigger again. Glad it's no tech shotgun. I summon mana.
Thump—shotgun flies far off.
Now what? Pry mouth, yank molars? She's got poison there.
Reach out with that thought—
"Magic...?"
I freeze at her reaction.
"...You, just now—no, ma'am—no no. L-Lady Soo. Was that magic?!"
My eyes go wide. Then, thrilled she digs magic, I grin.
"Yeah. Cool, right."
"Gasp!"
Miko hugs my feet. Lick-the-toes vibe.
*****
"Ahem, sorry. Got a bit excited..."
"Sfine."
Face flushed like her hair, Miko—exhausted—brews coffee.
"...Nice to meet you. I'm Yuugiri Miko. Broker and illegal clinic doc in the Wasteland."
"Nice to meet ya. Soo."
I grab her hand, shake, small smile.
"Smoke if you want."
"...How, with Lady Soo here."
She smoked fine in-game. Probably 'cause I look way younger. Still weird. Wasteland air's worse than smoke. Cyberpunk cigs? Barely carcinogenic. Vapor, not tobacco. Real leaf's rich-folk only.
"Go ahead."
"Mm, won't refuse then."
Pulls cig from table pack, fans on, lights match, puffs smoke.
"Lady Soo."
Smoke wafts away.
"Magic, right? That thing earlier."
"Yeah."
"...Magic."
Her eyes burn toward the shotgun. I went to grab it, but she freaked—begged leave it. So it sits abandoned.
"You know magic too, Miko?"
"I—"
She clams up. Quick internal debate. Spill or not? Fallout? Soo's deal. Not Ryu Cheon's dog, she said. Seems legit. Far off, unsure; close, clear. No lab-rat chem-stink. Just wasteland grit and cozy flesh scent. Not Zailek butcher—no implants. Those guys half-machine. Neonic? Nah, too grimy.
Then what?
Magic...
Perfect. Flawless execution. Not a magic expert, but ex-Ryu Cheon ruins team till a year ago—she spots it. Makes Soo more mysterious. Big three corps couldn't crack magic; she wields it masterfully.
"...No affiliation, really?"
"Yeah."
"This... matters. Silly verbal oath, but to me, life-or-death important."
If corp agent, she'd be dead. Knows that, asks anyway. Desperate.
Instead of words, I lift butt a tad. Before her secrets, share mine. No biggie.
Why hide this awesome tail? Hug it, grin.
"My secret."
"Eh?"
"Oh."
Classic Japanese reaction! Hearing it live. Native pronunciation, face—beats imitators.
"I'm a dragon."
I beam; tail in arms wags cutely.
"W-Wait. Hold on... Eh?"
"Owner of this world's magic too."
"Eh? For real? Eh?"
"Goal: collect all magic."
"Eh?"
"Dunno why, but you're hunting magic too, right Miko?"
"Eeeh?"
"Same goal."
I offer hand; tail follows eagerly. Miko eyes my tiny hand, plump tail—nosebleed gushes.
"C-Can I touch once? No, smell—no no... Just one lick?"
"Didn't wash."
"S'fine."
"Coming off super pervy. Kinda pissed."
Magic-push her away.
"Guh..."
Her cheek-rub on magic turns nosebleed torrent. Low-class.