Chapter 9
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Prophets (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Iwamoto Yoshio thought his first impressions were generally good.
This wasn't arrogance—it was an objective fact. While running Iwamoto Industry, he'd met business owners all over the place, and compliments about his soft, amiable demeanor always followed.
His round face and stylish mustache. His warm voice and friendly smile—these were the charm points he prided himself on. Anyone meeting Iwamoto Yoshio for the first time couldn't help but react positively.
Even his marriage to his wife had come about thanks to that warm impression.
"You're Edmund Dennis, correct? I'm Iwamoto Yoshio, president of Iwamoto Industry."
Such a man, Iwamoto Yoshio, was facing outright contempt from someone for the very first time in his life.
"I'm Edmund Dennis, here on factory inspection duty. You already know where I'm from without me having to say it."
Unlike her elegant and prim appearance, she made no effort to hide her emotions. All Iwamoto Yoshio felt toward this woman snapping at him out of nowhere was a touch of bewilderment.
But Iwamoto Yoshio was no ordinary man. He was a self-made entrepreneur who'd built his company from the ground up, a family man of this era with a rabbit-like child and a fox-like wife, a battle-hardened veteran standing at the forefront of the business world.
He'd witnessed plenty of big-corp execs treating subcontractors like their personal servants. Right before major contracts, he'd seen them send employees on pointless errands just to harass them or make outrageous demands for entertainment that put staff in tough spots.
To such a Yoshio, the anger and disdain this woman in front of him displayed was nothing out of the ordinary.
She'd probably gotten chewed out at her own workplace and come here to vent, or maybe she was just the type with a rotten personality to begin with. Seeing Dennis's brow furrow like a carved statue and her sharp gaze, Yoshio guessed it was the latter.
"Aigoo, no need to stand on ceremony. So, what brings you here today? Is there some issue with the factory? It hasn't even started operations yet."
Yoshio responded amiably to Dennis while glancing at the business card she'd handed him. It boldly featured a major corporation's logo—she must be the type overflowing with pride in her company, saying you know where I'm from without asking.
Dennis's eyebrow twitched when Yoshio dove straight into the main topic without changing expression. She neatly folded her hands on her lap and spoke.
"I wanted to talk about your daughter."
"My daughter? Ah, she mentioned going on a factory tour with Sally. You must have met her there. She's a cute kid, isn't she?"
When Yoshio spoke to Dennis with a good-natured smile, she recoiled as if chilled to the bone, putting distance between them. Wondering if his face looked scary today, Yoshio sat back down with an awkward expression. Avoiding his gaze, Dennis said,
"The factory district will soon have experimental equipment coming and going, plus plenty of heavy machinery, so make sure she doesn't come anywhere near."
"Understood. That's only natural. It's a dangerous place for a child."
He'd only allowed the factory tour this time because Serika was unusually sturdy for her age thanks to her abilities, the factory wasn't operational yet, and Sally was with her. If the inspector found it uncomfortable, banning it was the obvious choice.
Dennis gave him a puzzled look when he nodded and agreed so readily. Tilting his head at her direct stare, Yoshio replied,
"Is there more you'd like to say?"
"What are your plans for Iwamoto Serika now?"
They must have already introduced themselves. The slightly softened tone when saying her name suggested Dennis didn't have a bad impression of Serika. The phrasing "what are your plans," though, struck him as a bit odd—but considering she was a foreigner, she was probably asking about future education policies and the like.
Pointing out her wording at a time like this could sour the mood.
So Yoshio nodded without dwelling on it and continued.
"It's a crucial time for her, after all. I plan to teach her all sorts of things. Especially since our girl's ability has pretty high utility, right? She might even help out with my work down the line, so I'm thinking of sending her to a good facility to train it properly. She's still got a lot to learn."
"...Help with work?"
Yoshio pretended to roll up his sleeves and said,
"Naturally, she should start by experiencing fieldwork. She takes after me—she'll be great at it. Who knows? She might end up working alongside Ms. Dennis someday. Heh heh heh."
Dennis's face went pale. Yoshio kept laughing heartily but rolled his eyes, clueless as to why she was getting so serious.
"Heh heh heh..."
Yoshio's awkward laughter and Dennis's stiff expression lingered in the air, crossing paths for quite some time.
Dennis smoothed her hair and spoke with a haughty expression.
"...I heard you're not an ability user yourself, Mr. Yoshio."
"Still, I have some know-how."
"...Ability users are best understood by other ability users. You'd agree with that, wouldn't you?"
Yoshio blinked at Dennis's sudden remark. She didn't seem to be waiting for a reply. She pulled a bag from under her chair, spread out some documents, and showed them to him.
This is the ability user training curriculum we provide. Girls of Serika's age are so delicate and emotional that they require customized programs. Even if you have know-how on ability users and personal connections to facilities, I doubt you can offer better conditions than us—so how about entrusting your daughter to our care?
Yoshio stroked his chin and let out an impressed sigh. There were various trainings prepared for physical enhancement types—big corporations really did have top-notch welfare.
The example training focused on martial arts, and considering the "customized curriculum" explanation plus the Russian special forces veteran listed as an instructor example, it seemed they'd tailor it perfectly to Serika.
"Will my daughter get training like this?"
Dennis hesitated briefly at Yoshio's question before answering.
"It's customized after testing each individual's tendencies and abilities."
Just as he'd suspected when he tossed out the question to check.
He figured gushing too much or firing off questions would make him look like a country bumpkin, so Yoshio reined in his emotions and kept his expression neutral.
As Yoshio paused, Dennis gave him a meaningful look and said,
"From your position, Mr. Yoshio, don't you want to build closer ties with us?"
Yoshio inhaled sharply and rolled his eyes. As a major corporation opening a new sales channel, he definitely wanted to foster ongoing exchanges and a long-term relationship.
Besides, a training curriculum directly from a big corp was bound to be far better than any local academy.
After agonizing over it for a while, Yoshio decided to be honest.
"...I'll have to talk it over with my daughter first."
Dennis nodded, her eyes gleaming.
"Why did you do that?"
As Dennis stepped out of Iwamoto Industry, her body stiffened at the sudden hallucinated voice.
The voice.
It was her husband's voice—from after she'd smashed the two criminals who killed their daughter, when they'd faced each other in the prison visiting room.
Back then, her husband had pressed his gaunt face ghost-like against the visiting room window, staring at Dennis with bloodshot eyes. In a raspy voice, he'd asked,
"Why did you do that?"
Neither Dennis nor her husband had been in their right minds then. No, it felt like everyone in that courtroom had lost theirs. Like phantoms raging in a twisted dream, they each shouted their piece before vanishing.
Her husband had merely repeated the same words in a voice that expected no answer.
"Why did you do that?"
And Dennis had answered in kind.
"Because I had to."
Dennis closed her eyes and opened them again. Lately, visions of the past had been coming frequently. She shook her head to dispel the hallucination. Shaking hard enough to bring on dizziness made the faint pain chase away both the visions and the echoes.
With her blurry vision still settling, she got into the sedan and opened her phone.
She called her husband.
With her eyes closed, Dennis opened her mouth.
"It's been a while since I called. I just... thought of you."
The car engine started. The driver silently pulled away. Entrusting her body to the car's gentle sway, Dennis leaned her head against the window.
"Back in that visiting room, you said something like this. Why did I do such a thing? That you could have been a better person, but you'd become a monster."
Dennis let out an involuntary laugh. She shook her head slowly and continued.
"At the time, I thought you were being pretty shameless. And why not? You'd hidden a pistol in the courtroom yourself. Yet there you were, raging at me for turning into a monster—I couldn't wrap my head around it."
The winding road brought Iwamoto Industry's signboard into view opposite her. Dennis watched her own face and the sign overlap on the translucent glass.
"...I just suddenly wanted to say that."
The car sped off into the distance. Her murmured conversation was soon swallowed by the city's noise and vanished.