The Calm Before the Storm (2)

After asking a few more questions, we paid a visit to a clothing shop called Indifferent Gentleman.

They claimed to specialize in everyday street fashion, so I went in — and not a single piece of clothing in the place appealed to me.

"How about that one?"

"Tacky."

"What about this? I think it'd look good on you."

"Ugly."

"…I really think it'd look good."

Every outfit Orphe picked was gaudy and overdone. Her aesthetic sense was, frankly, terrible.

This was the problem with bookworms who'd only ever lived between the pages. Bookworms chased ideals and fantasies over reality, so they ended up choosing things that looked bizarre to any ordinary person.

"You have to pick clothes that wouldn't look weird on anyone. Something a street beggar could wear and a noble could wear just the same."

"Those conditions are way too hard."

"You'll manage."

Everything she brought after that was still no good. Sigh. Looks like I'd have to step in myself. I'd figured a girl would have better fashion sense than me, but as with everything in life, it was case by case.

I gave Orphe's slumped shoulders a few pats. Even monkeys fall from trees. She'd done well enough so far, so I let it slide with a smile.

"I'll pick my own clothes. Tribo, you pick something for Diana. And don't forget something for yourself."

Orphe nodded a few times and drifted away. Should I have given her a proper head-pat? Her face still looked gloomy.

"Nothing too sparkly — keep it plain! Tribo's huge, so just grab the biggest size and call it done!"

Still, some things had to be said. Nin-cola.

About ten minutes passed.

It was about time to start gathering intel, so I picked out some unremarkable pieces and went looking for Orphe. Time had to be used efficiently.

"You found something. Shall we go? We're short on time."

"R-Robin. Let's just take these."

I grabbed Orphe's wrist as she stacked clothes and checked the price tags, and hauled her to the register. The pile she'd built was ridiculously expensive. There went all the money from the commission, in one shot.

"It's intel-gathering time now. Stay sharp."

"Where are we going first?"

"Hmm."

I'd thought of two places yesterday. Sword King Byeon's mansion, and the slums. The mansion would need scouting eventually, so I had to learn the layout — and the slums, to check on the safety of the common folk.

"The slums first."

"Carrying the clothes we just bought? We'll stand out."

"If anyone jumps us, we teach them a lesson."

"That also stands out."

"I'll just flick them a few times on the forehead and move on."

"Robin…"

I thought it over carefully, but this place still came first. Saving one commoner had to take priority over killing a hundred samurai.

"You know the way, right?"

I waited for an answer from Orphe, our party's resident information specialist. Naturally, all I knew was that the slums existed.

"Of course. Leave it to me."

Orphe looked at me with a faint smile. That confidence suggested she'd gotten something out of Seton. Seton was more useful at a distance than up close.

Was there any way to just strip Seton's knowledge of Neo-Solitron and dump it straight into Tribo?

Alleys choked with every kind of filth. Dilapidated houses listing to one side. Windows shut tight, trees stripped bare. Bare-chested children running about, and adults watching us with eyes hollowed out by exhaustion.

The slums we arrived in were the worst. A settlement that looked roughly twice the size of Evergreen Village.

"The Order Maintenance Corps doesn't even come through here?"

Those brown-armored soldiers you saw everywhere else in the city were nowhere to be found. Would they come running if I started badmouthing Sword King Byeon? Somehow I felt like they would.

"It's scheduled for demolition, so they're deliberately looking the other way. Look at that notice on the wall."

No Order Maintenance Corps in the place that needed order the most. There were degrees of dereliction of duty, and this was past all of them.

Beacons of law and order? Fireflies had more right to a title that grand than these bastards.

"Rumor has it this used to be the heart of Solitron. About three hundred years ago? After people got attacked by monsters, it turned into a slum."

Three hundred years ago, he was known throughout the kingdom as the Butcher of Solitron.

Delamion. That son of a bitch. Still causing trouble even after he was dead, the old denture-wearing bastard.

Looks like this place needed saving first.

"Excuse me. May I ask you something?"

"Not interested."

Even when Orphe addressed him politely, the old man brushed past without a second glance. The way he turned and left without even looking at our faces suggested he'd been through this kind of thing plenty of times.

Was this some kind of "freeze out the newcomers" game?

"You two."

A deep, steady voice caught us by the ankles. I turned my head and saw a middle-aged man leaning on a cane, his right leg missing.

"If you're curious about something, I'll tell you. But I'll need compensation."

Honestly, someone who just came out and demanded payment was easier to deal with. I nodded to show I agreed, and he jerked his chin toward the shopping bag — well, the bundle — Orphe was holding.

"Got any clothes for a little girl? Something an eight-year-old could wear. One outfit, if you've got it. Then I'll talk."

"Nin?!"

I couldn't help picturing this middle-aged man prancing through the slums in little-girl clothes, doing ballet.

My own grandfather had worn my younger sister's clothes a lot in his final years, but that was dementia — nothing anyone could do about it.

A man who seemed perfectly sound of mind walking around dressed like that? That was a straight-up crime.

My fists trembled with rage at the grotesque, nightmarish perversion of this other world.

"Why are you looking at me like that? I've got a daughter too. I just want to play the part of a father for once."

Oh. I'd gotten worked up over nothing. He could've led with that. This was why you always ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠listened to people all the way through. After exchanging a glance with Orphe, I started asking questions.

"Why are there so few people here?"

"Every young man and woman who lives here has gone off to work in the mines. Everyone except cripples like me."

The mines. I remembered overhearing the upper class complaining about the mine workers' discontent. A place run by people who called the laborers dogs and pigs was never going to be normal.

"Do murders or disappearances happen often around here?"

"No. By the time people get back from work, they're so wiped out that kind of thing is rare."

"That's strange. A poorly policed slum full of people exhausted from hard labor, and almost no incidents?"

I was more or less convinced, but Orphe apparently wasn't.

That aside — using the word "slum" right in front of the people who lived there? A bit short on consideration, wasn't she?

"I'm telling you, it's true. Anyone dumb enough to cause trouble is already dead."

"Dead?"

"When they were building Neo-Solitron and all that, the Order Maintenance Corps came through here once. Anyone who got out of line without knowing their place got wiped out completely."

Wiped out completely. They'd clearly killed not just yakuza and thugs, but any commoners who were a little too rough around the edges. The Order Maintenance Corps — yeah, those bastards needed to be massacred.

"The notice mentions black-robed people appearing. Do you know who they are?"

"No. They don't come often. Twice a week, maybe? They stick around a bit and leave quick."

"Have they ever killed anyone who lives here?"

"Never. Maybe because of that notice stuck up over there? It's just a warning. Don't interfere, that kind of thing."

"Is that so?"

"You know how tall those people are? A full head taller than me. They look dangerous enough that we don't mess with them either."

No victims, at least — that was something. Still plenty suspicious, though, so this needed investigating too. I'd have to go "interview" them later.

"Which way is the mine?"

"That'd be…"

After getting the location as well, we handed him one of the outfits Diana was supposed to wear and sent him on his way.

"Lots of fussy frills. My daughter'll love it. Thank you."

We'd bought a little over ten outfits, so one missing wouldn't hurt. It wasn't like she was transforming into a Golden Dragon Ninja every single day.

Once we'd gotten all the information we could and left the slums, Orphe spoke up.

"Are we going to Sword King Byeon's mansion?"

"I'm thinking."

I also wanted to check out the mine. Massacring Sword King ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Byeon and the Order Maintenance Corps mattered, sure — but so did massacring the crooked bosses exploiting innocent commoners.

"We can't hit both. The mansion is in the center of Neo-Solitron, and the mine is on the edge of the city. They're far apart."

"Hmm."

Hearing Orphe's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠advice — she'd clearly read my mind — I stopped walking. Time to decide.

"The mine."

Decided. A professional focused on the crime still happening, not the one already over.

There would be plenty of chances to kill Sword King Byeon over the massacre of the slums. But the people working in that mine were suffering right now, this very moment.

To break the chain of violence, I had to personally smash it apart with even greater violence. That was the way of the Sweet Ninja.

After hours of walking, we finally reached the mine.

A signboard nailed to a withered tree read as follows.

Thank god it wasn't the Aoji Coal Mine. I looked around — and the sight was nothing short of spectacular.

"This is… I've never seen anything like it either."

Orphe had every right to be stunned. Even I, a twenty-first-century Earthling, was impressed.

A mountain carved open, its innards laid bare. Magical-mechanical arms of wood and stone held the earth apart — like a dentist's hands prying open a child's mouth. Pillars to keep the soil from collapsing, maybe?

"Is this the average tech level of the Iregal Kingdom?"

"No. This is… Red Whale Magic Tower technology. Look, their mark is stamped on it."

"You're right."

So this was what a megacorp looked like in another world. I half expected them to be torturing yokai in there.

Not far from where I stood, people who looked like mine laborers were gathered around a triangular mechanical device. Were they going to carry that into the mine?

Otherworld dynamite?

"We should head back. Knowing the location is enough for now."

I was curious how that machine worked, but getting any closer risked drawing suspicion, so I decided to pull back.

I'd come back tomorrow in a proper disguise. A mole drawn next to my nose ought to do it, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right?

"You're planning to come back here tomorrow?"

"Nin-nin."

"Shall we call it a day, then? Just grab some curtains on the way home?"

Curtains, too, apparently. Whatever. Fine by me.

It was night by the time we got back to the house. Aioji Mine was farther than I'd expected.

A round trip of three to four hours. The thought of commuting there starting tomorrow made my chest feel tight. A week of that and I'd turn into a real laborer.

Ziiiiing—

A streetlamp that hadn't been there before flickered with a strange noise. A streetlamp appearing overnight? Weird. This wasn't even the main thoroughfare of Neo-Solitron. It felt like special treatment.

I remembered the Order Maintenance Corps visiting Amelia's house. Was there some connection between the two?

Amelia's boyfriend in the Order Maintenance Corps? Amelia, secret female officer of the Order Maintenance Corps? Suddenly everything looked suspicious.

I'd have to ask Adali about it.

The first one to greet us when we came inside was Tribo. Diana must have entered sleep mode the moment the sun went down — she was nowhere to be seen.

"What is it?"

"I have determined the method of use for the necklace received previously."

The scrap-metal robot held out the drop item Lamina had left behind before she died. The gem set in the necklace was glowing brighter than before.

"It is a magical tool that can be used as a means of communication. It had fallen into disrepair from prolonged disuse. I have repaired it. It is now functional."

"An otherworld cellphone?"

Even better than I'd hoped. Well, after the bloodbath at Maple Leaf Village, we deserved at least this much of a reward.

"Similar. Place it around your neck."

I hung the necklace on and waited for a response.

Can you hear me?

Tribo's voice rang inside my head. How was this even possible? There was only one necklace — two-way communication shouldn't work.

Speak inwardly.

I relayed exactly what I was thinking.

It is an artifact of the Gogmagog. Only the necklace's owner and the Gogmagog linked to it can communicate.

Then it's not even a broken overpowered item.

A garbage phone whose only conversation partner was Tribo?! Cellphone, my ass — this thing was worse than a pager.

Its usefulness remains unchanged. Keep it.

Well, obviously.

The strategic value was solid enough. If I found something weird at Aioji Mine, I could contact Tribo on the spot.