Borderline Joke (2)
“What the fuck… shit… you goddamn piece of junk…!!” Thud thud!! The man couldn’t hide his trembling voice as he savagely kicked his own hoverbike. But even after repeated kicks, the engine remained stubbornly silent. He was truly stranded in this sandstorm-ravaged wasteland, with the comforts of Harvest Planet right around the corner.
“Fuck… fuck…!” His teeth chattered, his voice growing quieter. A citizen with full rights, left all alone outside the city with no system oversight or witnesses. And to top it off, he had his company ID proudly hanging around his neck—perfect bait for trouble at the checkpoint. If the gangs or outlaws spotted him… best case, they’d execute him as a “corporate dog.” Worst case, they’d tie him up alive and “harvest” every implant in his body. A chill ran down his spine. The anxiety felt so real it could materialize any second. He whipped his head around frantically.
If he’d known this would happen, he wouldn’t have let his guard down just because it was a simple unmanned food plant inspection. He should’ve taken a proper taxi service… This was all the company’s fault, the bastards who claimed hazard pay and travel expenses were bundled into the base salary. May they rot in hell, those credit-grubbing pricks.
Scrape… scrape… How far had he dragged the now-useless bike? Through the whipping wind and sand blurring his vision, he spotted something in the corner of his eye—shoddy-looking… structures?
“Huh…?” Memories clicked back into place. This had to be that settlement not far from the city gate. On business trips to the plant, he’d always dismissed it as a creepy outpost full of anti-corporate radicals, system haters, and people without citizenship, huddled together like vermin. But compared to the real psychos out there, which was more trustworthy didn’t even need explaining.
First things first, he yanked off his utterly useless company ID and shoved it haphazardly into his inner pocket. Then he cautiously entered the settlement. The beggar-tier storm meant no passersby to ask for directions anyway. What he needed right now… wasn’t a motel, but a mechanic shop to fix his hoverbike. Luckily, he connected to the settlement’s network without any hassle and quickly found what he wanted.
Orthodox Machinery Shop. Repairs & maintenance, basic implant procedures, customization requests—all in one place!!
Ps. Now offering cyberware upgrades & vaccine services!
“Ah. Fuck…” He sighed at the shop name—which sounded reliable—and the tacky list of every service under the sun. He hadn’t expected a corporate branch out here in the boonies, but handing his baby over to some shady jack-of-all-trades in this dump…! Grumbling all the way, he made it to the shop’s rough exterior and pounded on the firmly shut metal door.
Thud thud…!! “Hey, anyone there?! Customer here, customer!! If you don’t wanna clean up a sand-choked corpse, let me in already!”
“Yesss~ Coming right now…!”
“……?” The man’s head tilted with a cartoonish creak at the soft, velvety high-pitched voice—light-years from what he’d expected. Holy shit. He’d heard city bigshots who raked in credits could mod their voices and looks however they wanted… but what kind of freak pervert blew that much cash just to live out here?
But… clank! As the door slid open, he had no choice but to rethink everything.
“Come on in! I don’t wanna clean up either!”
“……” There… stood a little angel. Drawn in by her fluttering hand gestures, he shuffled inside in a daze, unable to tear his eyes from the impossibly beautiful girl. Petite frame that’d fit perfectly in his arms, porcelain skin. Neatly styled but flowing hair. Eyes like jewels you could stare into forever. Her clothes screamed high-end luxury, hinting at her wealth. But that voice matching her stunning looks… too perfect to be surgical mods. Even the famous models from city billboards wouldn’t hold a candle to her right here, right now.
“Sir? Sir…? How can I help you…?”
“Uh… well… could you fix this hoverbike… or something….”
“Hoverbike repair request, noted~ …Grandpa! Customer’s here…!”
“Oh…! A customer braving this storm? Rare sight.” The angel stepped gracefully aside, replaced by a gruff, bushy old man. What the fuck, give back my angel. Whether the man regretted it or not, from there it was the old guy’s show.
“Tch tch… Running an air-jet vehicle in this gale? Madness!!” Engine failure this, degraded jet nozzles that, fan durability blah blah, fuel density whatever… Finally, an estimate popped out forecasting a massive credit hit, but the man was too busy with wild speculations to care. If this place was just grandpa and granddaughter running it solo… who handled the cyberware upgrades and vaccines listed in the ad…?
“So… parts plus labor comes to a total of 82,400 credits! What’ll it be?”
“Pardon…? Y-yeah, fix it. And… um… cyberware check too. If you could…? It’s been a while since a pro looked at it….” His awkward excuse wilted. He’d just checked his cyberware before heading out. And acting all squirrely here like it was some shady night joint…? Not too late to back out, grab the bike, and…
“Oh! Cyberware check too?”
“Yes!! Please…!!” The angel, who’d been listlessly sweeping the cluttered floor, perked up—no regrets now. Leaving his precious bike with the old man, he lay back on the long bench-bed. He’d heard pre-modern art pieces cost fortunes just to look at. So having seen the angel’s smile, he wouldn’t complain even if the check was half-assed…
“Excuse me…!”
“…?!” Small, soft hands gently cupped his face, a signal requesting access to his implant system pinging in. As he eagerly approved and his consciousness faded, he had a long reflection on how narrow-minded and prejudiced he’d been about the world outside the city. This place had a warmth and satisfaction even the stress-relief spots he hit nightly couldn’t match. …Maybe he should make these outings a regular thing. With that thought, he savored a brief respite beyond the system.
“Ahem…! Little miss! What’ll it be for dinner…?”
“……The cheapest thing possible, please.”
“I’ll cover it, don’t worry! You’re growing, can’t skimp on meals or you’ll be in trouble…!” Rumble…!! With a hearty “Wahaha~!” the sly old mechanic grandpa headed out, leaving the shop behind.
…Where’d that initial wariness go? Handing the empty shop to a temp partner he’d known just days—couldn’t help but chuckle. I hadn’t exactly threatened him with “No need for employees when you’ve got a partner…!” Couldn’t even if I wanted to. Just… leveraged my part-time experience to show I could handle customer service and cleaning. And to prove I could do cyberware work, I snuck out that nasty Paradise Corp “loan reminder system” from his implants. Forcing you to watch Paradise product ads for 5 minutes a day until the loan’s paid off, mandatory install…? No wonder customers go nuts—then they hawk Carebots to clean up the mess.
In the end, even if our first meeting was a bit one-sided on my part, things are solid now. He’s letting me run my side business from the shop and crash in the spare room.
……Why the cheeky form of address? …Funny thing—we still don’t even know each other’s names. No one forced it, but this awkward family play keeps chugging along. He welcomed the mystery drifter with open arms. I didn’t pry why a ho-ho white-haired grandpa was still drowning in debt… or why the spare room was stuffed with a girl’s stuff.
No need to weigh the baggage on someone else’s shoulders. Clean relationships are easier to walk away from.
…People really do learn from past mistakes.
“……Hmph.” It’s just… instead of scraping together the 110,000 credits short for citizenship. I revised the plan: travel costs from Harvest Planet to Neo Haven, ongoing food expenses. And… some generous rent before I bounce. Better aim for a comfy 300,000 credits.