Time for a Midnight Run

Back-alley broker Marcus had spent the past few days in a private little slice of hell.

First he simply lay on the floor, trembling like a leaf. The next day, he crept about cleaning up the wreckage. And only this morning, over a cup of hot tea, did he finally begin piecing his sanity back together.

So what exactly is that kid?

The moment his reason returned, the question came with it.

Summoning an entire Titan through spatial magic? He had never heard of such a thing in his life. And the Titan that appeared was covered in scars, running a model no knightly order and no academy cadet had ever used. The design wasn't even close to a Titan — it looked more like a mechanical beast. Even after all his years in this business, he'd never laid eyes on anything like it.

Putting every last piece together, one hypothesis brushed against his mind.

That's it.

An Abyss Exploration Knight. It has to be.

The abyssal otherworld known as the Abyss. The Titan knights who operated there — heroes who risked their lives digging out ancient relics and resources to prop up entire nations! Even cadets who squeezed into the Academy through the eye of a needle could only take up that profession after graduating at the very top of their class.

There's no other explanation!

The moment the thought landed, every puzzle piece snapped into place. The spatial magic storing the Titan — a relic excavated from the Abyss, obviously. The hideous damage across the frame — battle scars from the Abyss. And that childlike appearance, which had thrown off his judgment from the start? For all he knew, even that was the product of an Abyssal curse or some relic's side effect. The Abyss was full of anomalies modern mana studies couldn't explain.

Damn it. Was I completely taken in by that face?

Oddly enough, once he understood everything, calm returned. He was still terrified, of course — but the merchant's instinct flickered back to life alongside the fear.

See you again next time.

That was what the girl had said on her way out. It might have been a threat, sure. But what if she really did come back? Then it might become an opportunity for him instead.

Next time, I won't fumble it.

Even if the profit was zero — even if he ran a loss — it wouldn't matter. A connection to an Abyss Exploration Knight was worth more than he could count in rips.

"Welcome, honored customer."

"Right this way, please."

"Care for a cup of tea?"

Smile — He'd rehearsed in front of a mirror dozens of times. A natural smile, courteous gestures, drilled until they came out on their own. He turned away every other customer and waited by the door and nowhere else.

And then, after days of waiting—

"…!"

Ding-a-ling-a-ling—

She's here!

The shop bell announced her arrival.

"Ah, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠welcome, Mr. NoFloodNoAccident."

"E-eh…?"

Just as he'd rehearsed, he reached out a hand to the girl hunched under a massive backpack, whimpering with the weight of it.

"Allow me."

"Huh…?"

She shot him a wary sideways glance as he took the bag from her. Twice the volume of last time — but it was fitted with lightening magic, so it wasn't heavy for him at all.

"Right this way, please."

"I could… carry it myself, though…"

He escorted her to a table already set with cake and ice cream, then waited patiently while the girl, glancing around with no idea what to do with herself, finally found her bearings.

Before long, she worked up the nerve to speak.

"The cadet event… is it still on?"

"Yes…! Of course it is!"

He nearly cheered inside. A question he'd anticipated — he could answer it without missing a beat.

"As it happens, today is the final day."

Last time, she had quoted the market price of nearly every item with startling accuracy. She wouldn't make demands beyond common sense this time either.

"No questions asked, no haggling — the final event where we match any condition~!"

"Oooh…"

The backpack was twice the size of last time. Somewhere around 150,000 rips — he could strip his safe bare and cover that. Anything beyond it, and he'd take out a mortgage on the property.

"Then… I have a question…"

"Of course, ask me anything."

He nodded, meeting the girl's wide, sparkling eyes. Come at me with anything. Real estate in the capital is invincible!

"This shop… is it yours, mister…?"

…What?

He'd been steeling his resolve not ten seconds ago.

"Because I… I want ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to move here…"

"……"

"Would that be… okayyy?"

His smile stayed perfectly fixed on his lips while his brain shut down entirely. This question was so far outside his predictions that he hadn't prepared anything.

"The location looks really good, too…"

Oh, for the love of—

He bit down hard on his lip and barely stopped his fist from shooting up on its own. He was one heartbeat away from rapping this brat across the skull.

Hold it. You can't do that.

Because if he did, his own head would leave his shoulders first — if the kid really was an Abyss knight.

Anything but the shop!

He'd inherited it from his parents and poured his whole life into it. He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was still grinding away at his debt, sweating blood, doing dirty work he wasn't proud of — he could not let this place be taken out from under him wholesale!

Come on, think…!

He had to talk his way out of this somehow. He was just about to drop to his knees and beg when—

"The rent… wouldn't be too expensive, right?"

"…Huh?"

His brain shut down a second time. Another completely unexpected turn. But even inside that frozen skull, he managed to spot one glaring contradiction.

If she were planning to seize the whole shop, why on earth would she ask about rent?

"The rent is — it's free, of course…!"

Had he misunderstood? Or was she probing him? Whatever the case, the hope that the shop might just survive put the light back in Marcus's eyes.

"It's all part of the event!"

Though he couldn't afford to let his guard down yet.

"But, um… I'm not a cadet…"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I… dropped out."

Right to the very end, he had to dodge every trap!

"Not a problem at all! Anyone who has been a cadet, even once, qualifies!"

"R-really?"

"Graduates, students on leave, dropouts! Anyone who has ever set foot on Academy grounds is eligible for the event!"

"Oooh… jackpot."

His desperate flailing had apparently gotten through.

"Then as thanks… I'll appoint you… my junk-handling manager… mister…"

"Wha— why, that would be the honor of a lifetime!"

She wasn't reaching for any new complaints, it seemed.

…Did I pull it off?

Only then did a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠small sigh of relief escape Marcus's lips. For now, it looked like his precious shop was safe. Though as long as someone was living in it as a tenant, he'd never be able to relax again.

One day, after the Academy's practical exams concluded, second-year cadet Laliman stood staring blankly at the posting board, blinking between the names and the rankings.

I'm… ninth?

His grades had hovered around fiftieth for as long as he could remember — a lifetime resident of the mediocre middle. And now, inside the top ten? He'd landed squarely on the scholarship cutoff line that every cadet in the Academy dreamed of.

"Hey, Laliman! When the hell did you find time to practice?"

"Weren't you at the Luminous Live concert again yesterday?"

"You traitor, don't tell me you secretly trained behind our backs?"

His friends' voices were full of mischief as they clapped him on the shoulders, offering their congratulations. Laliman just answered with a dazed look on his face.

"No, seriously, I didn't practice at all."

He truly hadn't. On his word of honor. Just yesterday he'd been screaming his lungs out for Rumi-chan at the concert, waving a light stick until his arms died.

So what happened?

Thinking back on it now — the Titan had felt different the entire exam. Smooth, flowing movements, like gliding across water. No grinding stiffness in the joints; the machine responded the instant he thought of something. The feeling ran down to his fingertips on the control sticks and sent shivers through him.

Am I a genius?

Had he awakened? Maybe some massive latent talent of his had finally bloomed without him knowing.

…No, come on, that's too weird even for a joke.

He reined in his giddy excitement and retraced his memory. A few days ago, his family's personal mechanic had left on a long business trip with his father. With finals looming, Laliman had grudgingly taken the Titan to a civilian repair shop for a checkup.

If a variable existed, that was it.

Wait. Could it have been… that repair shop?

I'd better go see what changed.

Clunk—!

He went to the hangar and popped the Titan's hatch. Then he could only stand there, staring dumbly at the dizzying tangle of mana circuits inside.

"…No idea."

Let's be honest — he didn't know jack about Titan parts. He never even had time for piloting practice; any hours that could've gone toward studying internal components went to a few more Rumi-chan fan meets instead.

Oh, right — I took pictures.

He pulled a mana panel out of his pocket. Interior photos he'd snapped to show off his latest-model Titan parts to his friends.

Something definitely did change.

Something had shifted, subtly. The color of the wiring, the placement of certain parts. But exactly what had changed, he still couldn't tell.

What is it, precisely?

Pondering alone would get him nowhere.

I should just ask.

Luckily, there was one place that crawled with people who knew this stuff inside and out.

A short while after he posted—

The notifications started pouring in fast.

Comments came racing in within seconds. And along with them, a creeping sense of dread.

Barely any time had passed before his thread was registered as a featured post. And the comments that followed carried a steadily rising tide of impending doom.

At that moment, a strange name caught his eye. It sounded like something he'd heard before — a lot.

That's the shop I took mine to!

The same name was printed on his receipt. They'd advertised themselves as the industry leader, so he'd trusted them with the repair… and that shop was run by a con artist?

He immediately clicked the featured tab and scrolled down. And, absurdly enough, the entire page was plastered with threads about one single individual.

Laliman's face went white.