The Siberian Bear's Ransom
After Roque headed down into the club, Lije, left alone in the Black Knight, climbed into the driver's seat. She pressed her cheek against the window, pouting as she wiggled her fingers. With each twitch, the radio channel changed, a different song playing each time.
Lije, fiddling with the radio using no more than a flick of her finger, suddenly spoke up.
"Does Roque find Lije annoying?"
Just then, the radio switched, and the host's voice boomed out, "Of course~!" followed by cheers from the audience. Hearing that, Lije's pout deepened. She swung her finger more roughly, shutting off the radio entirely.
The next instant, the Black Knight's wiper swiped across the window on its own. It was as if it were saying the radio was wrong, answering Lije's question with a firm No, he doesn't.
Lije's eyes widened. The girl straightened up without thinking, blinking as she looked around the inside of the car.
"...Black Knight?"
At that moment, a massive thud echoed from the club. Startled, Lije whipped her head toward it. The gunfire that had been ringing out earlier had already scared off everyone nearby, so no further commotion stirred. Only the alarm beeps from a few parked cars pierced the air.
Lije pressed close to the window, scanning the surroundings. She wanted to run down into the club, but figuring Roque wouldn't like that, she didn't open the door.
Then, in Lije's view, the vent grate next to the club entrance rattled open. A figure in a black armored suit—a ninja—emerged, pulling itself up.
Lije's eyes sparkled, her mouth falling open naturally.
"Cyborg ninja...?"
The black ninja rose from the vent, cautiously surveying the area before snapping its head around. Six camera sensors dilated wide, six red eyes locking onto her position.
At the same time, rings of light rippled through Lije's pupils along her irises, shimmering faintly.
"..."
The cyborg ninja stared for a moment, then tilted its head. Its sensors adjusted focus, analyzing the environment. But all it saw was a filthy alley strewn with asphalt debris and trash.
With nothing noteworthy in sight, the cyborg ninja moved. With astonishing leaping power and fluid grace, it scaled gas pipes, outdoor units, and railings, vanishing upward.
Lije's eyes followed its retreating form. The light rings continued spinning in her gaze.
Her dazed upward stare lasted until Roque tapped on the window.
Snapping to, Lije blinked at Roque standing outside. He had a full-grown man slung over his shoulder.
He gestured for her to roll down the window. As it whirred open with a whine, he said,
"Pop the trunk."
The trunk sprang open with a clunk right after he spoke. Lije hadn't moved. Roque, eyeing her still-dazed expression, decided to stuff the unconscious Romanos into the trunk first.
He crammed the limp Romanos inside like so much laundry, then slid back into the driver's seat. Lije had already returned to the passenger side.
Roque inserted the key, fired up the engine, and said,
"It was a mess down there. The guy in the back was blasting something like a bazooka."
"...?"
Lije tilted her head, wondering what he meant. Roque turned the wheel smoothly, continuing,
"You would've been in danger if you'd come down. Cheer up."
He seemed to think her expression was just lingering sulkiness. It had been true a moment ago, but now it was different. Her reflexive ability had left her a bit drained, that was all.
Realizing this, Lije's face brightened. A tiny smile tugged at her lips.
"Okay. Lije understands."
Roque drove on in silence. Suddenly, the Black Knight's wiper squeaked across the window by itself.
"No messing around while I'm driving."
Thinking it was Lije, Roque said so. She nodded, flicking on the radio with a finger. Low synth-pop pulsed out. Roque, Lije, and the Black Knight carrying their music slipped out of the alley.
A beat late, MLPD squad cars came screaming from the opposite alley, sirens blaring.
"What? What do you mean it's gone?"
"The records, sir. There are no records at all."
"What bullshit is that? Why are they missing?"
"Well... they seem to have been deleted."
"You wanna keep spouting crap? Who the hell deleted them? You saying someone cracked Zero One's skull or what?"
"No, sir. Zero One is fully operational right now. We're tracking its position continuously."
"Then why the fuck are the records gone?!"
"It... looks like only our data server got wiped clean. If there was a problem with Zero One's storage, it couldn't even move now... Something—or someone—must've intercepted the data between Zero One and the server..."
"...So not just this battle data, but all previous data is gone too?"
"Yep."
"Do you have any idea what that means?"
"Uh... what does it mean, sir?"
"We're fucked! If the bosses find out, we'll all get our asses reamed and dumped in the Midland bay!"
"Eek... Th-then what do we do?"
"What do you mean 'what'? Find it! Mobilize the whole team, figure out what happened, and recover that data—NOW!"
Philip scratched his head irritably.
"So, what do we do with this guy?"
"Nothing. Leave him till he wakes up."
Roque replied casually. He lounged in a folding chair. Seeing that, Philip couldn't help rubbing his face roughly.
"You'll scratch up your face like that, mister."
Lije, sitting nearby and kicking her legs, said it upon seeing him. Philip felt like he was going insane.
Roque's call had come thirty minutes ago. He'd caught someone and needed a place to interrogate. Philip had rushed to unlock the basement, flip on the lights—just in time for Roque to arrive, Romanos slung over his shoulder.
They'd zip-tied his limbs and propped him in a chair down here.
"...You think zip ties will hold? I hear all his limbs are implants."
"If he's smart, he'll stay put. If he gets annoying, I'll slit his throat and scrap the implants."
Philip glanced at Lije at Roque's cold words. She swung her feet indifferently.
"You'd go that far?"
"He spread rumors I was coming for him as bait. To lure me in first. Even prepped something like a tank cannon. Real firepower."
"Rumors said he hoarded unreleased prototypes. Ex-soldier, so I figured... Anyway, can't be helped then."
Mercenaries give as good as they get—be it money or grudges.
"Yeah. Normally, I'd have taken his head right there in the club."
"Why didn't you?"
A voice suddenly cut in from Romanos, who'd been hanging his head till now. Hands bound behind him, he slowly lifted his face to meet Roque's eyes.
"Leaving me alive. You'll regret it, ronin."
Roque smirked faintly.
"We'll see who regrets staying alive more."
Unlike Roque's smile, Romanos's face was rigid. Roque crossed his legs, leaning back casually.
"Club's trashed, you couldn't kill me, and plenty of civilian casualties. Cops'll be after you. Oh, wait—didn't you already have a bounty?"
"...Cops are no issue. A little cash shuts them up."
"What about your men?"
Romanos glared harder.
"I started the rumors about my position being shaky. To catch you. My organization isn't like those undisciplined idiot gangs. We know chain of command—"
"I know a bit about that myself."
Philip cut in unexpectedly. Romanos's sharp gaze swung to him.
"Shut your mouth, Philip. If that sword-slinger hadn't shown up today, you'd have been first on my drag list."
"Oh ho. Treating a broker like that? Guess you wanted to take on Midland's entire mercenary scene."
Philip bared his teeth. His eyes glinted yellow, fangs seeming to lengthen. A low growl rumbled.
"Fucking dog bastard..."
"Heh. Before calling me a dog bastard, maybe rein in your own bear cubs first?"
"What?"
Philip shrugged nonchalantly.
"Word among brokers: Midland's white bears don't like their boss much. 'Why's a human running the bears?' Heard that too. Like how the Ice Bandits mock your crew—bears do the tricks, human pockets the cash. And that chatter's circulating among your bears..."
Philip leaned in, locking eyes with Romanos.
"We figured a rebellion was brewing soon. Siberian werebear faction leading it. You felt it too, right? That's why you were wiring money to secret Russian accounts."
Romanos's white beard quivered faintly.
"How did you..."
"See? Even a small-time broker like me has you pegged. Your downfall was near."
Romanos shuddered at Philip's words but didn't drop his head again. Instead, he bared his teeth in a forced grin.
"Damn. Discipline's gone to shit. I'll smash 'em all when I get back."
"...You think you can just go back?"
Philip said incredulously, but Romanos's eyes were on the lounging Roque.
"What do you want?"
"Out of context."
"Like you said, you could've cut my throat in that trashed club. But you didn't. You want something from me."
Roque nodded at Romanos's upright defiance. Not undeserved as Midland gang boss.
"Just curious about something."
"Curious?"
"That ninja."
Romanos's face twisted.
"Fuck. I don't know. Mistook it for a 'ronin' from the start—didn't you get that? Some psycho ninja shows up slicing my men with a blade, I figured Aura Master. And the only one who'd crash in right away was you."
"No guesses?"
"Guesses? Heh. Plenty, actually..."
Romanos's shoulders sagged slightly.
"...Too many enemies lately. Rival gangs breaking non-aggression pacts, testing us. Corps like Isumi and X-Techno treat us like cheap gun fodder. New crews popping up in back alleys with funding from who-knows-where. Pros like you beat us like punching bags. Sometimes I wanna chuck the whole organization..."
Roque nodded.
"So you have no clue where it came from."
"...Shit, yeah. No idea."
Roque stood. Romanos looked up at him.
"Letting me go?"
"Pay ransom."
"...Look. If I go back now, I gotta bribe cops and media. Internal cleanup on top—who knows how much that'll cost. And you hit my club and men first. I'm the victim here..."
"Then die here."
Romanos's beard quivered again. He met Roque's deep black eyes, then dropped his head with a thud.
"...I'll pay the ransom."
Roque glanced at Philip. Philip snapped out of his stunned daze at the look.
"Uh, I'll handle the wrap-up. Fee split?"
"Take what you want."
Philip's face lit up. He'd squeeze extra for his cut, no doubt. Roque turned back to Romanos.
"We're square this time. I hit your men first, like you said."
"Thanks due?"
"You lived thanks to me this time."
"What?"
Romanos's blank look shifted to realization. Without Roque, the cyborg ninja would've killed him before he even geared up. Like his men. And it fled not from his armor-piercing rounds, but Roque—the explosion left no trace.
Romanos's expression turned grave. How to fend off its next attack?
Forcing a smile, he said to Roque,
"...Any chance for bodyguard work?"
"Don't do that shit."
"Fuck..."
Roque turned away. Lije, who'd been kicking her feet in the corner, hurried after. They headed for the basement door.
Philip, untying Romanos, called out,
"Got a simple job tomorrow? Nothing tough!"
Roque paused, looking back.
"You've been pushing since last time. What is it?"
"Ah, different from before—that one's covered. Tomorrow's... driving, basically."
"Me, specifically?"
Philip looked troubled.
"Yeah, others can't handle it. Special request from a Japan contact. Normal drivers all balked—too squeamish."
"Why?"
"The passenger ain't normal."
A strange flash crossed Roque's mind. He named it.
"Dana Hayato?"
"...How'd you know? You Aura Masters swap contacts or what?"
Roque ignored him, lost in thought. That cyborg ninja had glitched at Dana's name too. Red fake Aura Blade flickered in his memory.
Aura Blade. Sword forged of sword and will. His strongest weapon—and unbreakable chain. His karma.
"Roque?"
Lije tugged his clothes. He met her upturned gaze and nodded.
"Where tomorrow?"
"...You'll do it? Thanks, Roque. Sending address and time to your car terminal."
Philip didn't pry. Roque left the basement with Lije.
"...Making an Aura Master a chauffeur? Hirer and hiree both nuts."
Romanos muttered as they left.
"Just prep the cash."
"Won't stiff you—hurry and untie me."
"Limbs full of implants, and you can't snap these?"
"What? That ronin severed all my muscle tendons. Get me to a hospital, fast."
Philip brightened.
"Ah ha. Half-cripple now, eh?"
Romanos's face soured at the grin.
The next day. At the rendezvous, Roque spotted a Japanese man bowing deeply.
Still bent, he said,
"Good to see you again, Senior Roque. Dana Hayato."
Roque eyed the back of Hayato's head skeptically.
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