The Birth of a Red Comet
The Tucan man made his way through the Guild District, going from guild to guild and mercenary company to mercenary company, pleading with anyone who would listen.
"Please, isn't there anything you can do!?"
"Just calm down for a moment…"
"Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down!? If I don't find that cargo, my career is finished! Aaaaaah!"
He wailed at the receptionists of every guild in the district, then scrambled off in a panic to find the next guild or mercenary company.
"What's with that guy? Why's he losing it?"
One mercenary opened his mouth in disbelief at the Tucan man, who alone seemed to account for a solid forty percent of the Guild District's noise.
Another mercenary standing with him supplied the answer.
"Word is a freighter hauling Larian alloy got contaminated."
"What? Larian alloy? Yeah, that'd do it."
Larian was a volcanic planet, one of the harshest places to survive thanks to the constant rain of meteorites. But that same volcanic activity melted every kind of precious metal mixed into the falling rock, and the dissolved metals were blasted outward by lava that erupted like geysers. Once those geyser-like flows cooled, high-purity metals could be harvested — and when those metals were refined with the high-energy processes available only on a lava world, the result was an alloy of the highest grade in the known universe.
That alloy took its name from the planet and was called Larium — ranked among the absolute finest materials used in mecha construction. Its strength was astonishing: a laser rifle had to strike the same spot more than twenty times just to punch through. And yet its weight was comparable to ordinary alloys. Naturally, any nation capable of building A-class mechas would move heaven and earth for even a scrap of the stuff.
"So how did it get contaminated? A cargo that valuable should've had serious escort, right?"
"Right? Maybe a Named Crypter showed up."
"There's not even regular Crypters around here. You really think a Named would pop up?"
The mercenaries muttered among themselves and moved on.
"Crypters, huh."
Thanks to their idle chatter, Jincheon had picked up the rough situation with ease. He stroked his chin, interest flickering across his face.
Crypters. Space monsters of unknown origin — when, where, and how they came into being, no one could say. Cosmic hazards that fed on a starship's power source and used that energy to spawn countless lesser creatures.
Crypters hunted in two ways. The first was to broadcast a distress signal, wait for people to arrive, then ambush them and seize the approaching vessel in a single stroke. The second was to pilot a ship themselves and actively seek out prey. Combat vessels with more means of attack tended to favor the latter approach. Crypters that seized particularly powerful ships were often called Named and given titles — and the most infamous Named Crypter in this galaxy was the Predatory Queen, which had claimed a Calsorn Empire battleship and prowled the stars with aggressive intent.
"If a new Mother has settled in, that's manageable. But if an existing Mother transferred over, things get a whole lot more complicated."
After dominating another vessel, a Crypter would birth a new Mother and send it off if the captured ship was smaller or less capable than its own. If the new ship was superior, the Crypter transferred over and left its former vessel to the newly spawned Mother. A ship under Crypter control was said to be "contaminated." And of course, if it was the latter case — the original forces transferring en masse — the difficulty of the job skyrocketed.
Heliane tried to dismiss it as none of their business and turn her attention away. Then she stopped.
Wait.
She was old enough to know better, and the childish streak in Jincheon suddenly made her nervous. She whipped her gaze back to him.
"Heh heh heh."
Sure enough, he was smiling with that ominous look on his face.
"Jincheon? Just so we're clear — you do know our mechas can't move for three days, right?"
"I know. But if that man is still looking for people after those three days are up…"
"No matter how strong you are, purifying a Crypter-controlled ship is extremely dangerous. More precisely — we won't last."
Purifying a Crypter-contaminated vessel was work for specialist mercenaries. It wasn't a joke — even Heliane and Calsira, with their top-grade nano-suits, had no idea how long they could survive inside one.
"It's fine. I'll just protect you."
"Purification isn't just about dealing with the monsters charging at you head-on. I've only heard about it, but tiny insect-like Crypters come pouring out of narrow vents, chewing through your suit and burrowing inside — or monsters that even laser rifles can't scratch come bursting out."
She knew Jincheon was strong. Alone, purifying a single Crypter-contaminated freighter would probably be nothing to him. But if the Crypters attacked them? They had never fought Crypters before. She had no sense of how long they could hold out.
"My power isn't just about smashing and destroying. As long as something is within my sight, nothing can harm you."
"Ah — come to think of it, Jincheon once sniped a nano-surveillance bot dead-on with a handgun," Calsira put in.
"I can sense things smaller than that, too."
"Mmm…"
It was clearly an extraordinary ability — but Heliane had never seen Jincheon's true power firsthand, and she had no way of gauging how strong martial arts really were. Her expression refused to ease.
"If he's still looking for people after three days, we'll think about it then."
"All right."
There was no guarantee the man would still be recruiting after three days anyway. They agreed to revisit the conversation later and let the matter drop.
That was when Jincheon slipped an arm around Heliane's shoulders and pulled her into his embrace.
"Ah…"
"The reason I don't use my full power is because fighting that way isn't fun. But if you two are in danger, I'll break that resolution in a heartbeat."
"…"
There was real force in Jincheon's voice when he said he would abandon his own resolve the moment they were threatened — and somehow, that made her trust him. At the same time, the knowledge that he valued them that much stirred a quiet, feminine joy in her chest.
"Haa. Fine. If he's that desperate for people, he'll find someone and be gone soon enough."
She spoke firmly on the surface, but underneath it was the effort of someone fighting to keep her face from softening.
"…What are you two doing?"
Calsira pouted at the sight of the two of them clinging together like that.
"W-what do you mean?"
"Ever since I got drunk and passed out, the vibe between you two has been weird."
"No. We've always been like th—"
"No, you haven't."
"…"
Calsira casually dismantled Heliane's flustered excuse. Then Jincheon pulled Calsira in by the shoulder as well.
"Kya?"
"It's because I've changed."
"Huh?"
"Before I came to this world, I had well over fifty wives. I treated that as normal, so I took you two lightly — and then I realized that was wrong."
It was true. Jincheon's behavior had shifted after Calsira's pirate party binge and subsequent blackout. He initiated more physical contact, and his gaze and presence had grown gentler.
"We've still got time. Shall we go enjoy ourselves some more?"
Having settled Calsira's questions, Jincheon draped an arm around each woman's shoulders and strolled off toward the residential district with a flower on each arm.
Is that really all it took for Unnie's face to change this much?
The Heliane of before — always rigid, only melting into pleasure-soaked whimpers when she was held in bed — and the Heliane of now were completely different people. The hard look in her eyes had long since dissolved, and nestled against Jincheon she wore an expression so feminine that even another woman could see it. No — more than that. With her four arms she was holding onto Jincheon's arm and body, clinging to him with a strangely active eagerness.
I'm glad, Unnie.
A face that changed that much was proof she had finally started enjoying the present. Calsira, who had only ever known Heliane's stiff, half-Zabalcan-Union-obsessed expression, smiled at the sight of her stepping free of the past and living in the now.
"Haaahh~ That was so much fun~"
After three days of eating, drinking, and sampling every amusement the place had to offer, Calsira stretched with a blissful smile.
"Didn't you blow a little too much money on snacks?"
"So what? The expensive ones were only a few hundred credits."
"…Don't say that in front of ordinary people."
Their previous employers had either been desperate or had recognized their worth, so they'd been able to earn hundreds of thousands of credits at a stretch. But payouts of that size were what only top-tier mercenaries pulled in. Regular people made two to three thousand credits a month — meaning a few hundred credits a day was pure luxury. The high cost of living here didn't help either.
"About time they arrived."
Having received a message that their mechas were nearly back, Jincheon's group returned to the dock. Jincheon's face, in particular, was lit with pure anticipation.
"That excited, huh?"
Heliane smirked and stepped closer at the sight of Jincheon acting like a kid.
"Obviously. In the anime from my old world, a unit three times faster was famous for being red with a horn on it. I didn't go as far as demanding a horn — that would've been a perfect carbon copy — but still."
"Your original world is so strange. A place with no mechas."
"I can't even imagine fighters and tanks dominating a battlefield," Calsira added.
Ever since revealing that he was a dimensional traveler who had crossed worlds twice, Jincheon often compared twenty-first-century Earth to the present. As he'd said before, this world's Earth had used primitive bipedal mechas since the Second World War, and aliens on other planets had taken that as a given. Fighters handled high-speed reconnaissance and supporting firepower; tanks provided supporting fire on the ground — that was the basic tactical doctrine here. So when Jincheon told them that mechas were pure science fiction in the world he'd come from, Heliane and Calsira could only find it fascinating.
"Heh heh heh. This is the moment this world's first Red Comet is born."
According to what he'd looked up on his Bio Device, most ace pilots painted their machines in dark color schemes — dark orange, dark blue, that sort of thing. Against the black backdrop of space, bright colors stood out like a beacon.
"But flip that around, and it means my presence will be impossible to miss."
"Men really are just oversized kids."
"Heh heh heh."
Watching Jincheon — who normally wore an easy smile and carried the dignity of a powerhouse — get this excited like a child was genuinely entertaining.
"They're here!"
Spreading his senses, Jincheon confirmed a massive transport vehicle approaching their dock.
Clunk!
Just as his senses had told him, the cargo doors opened a short while later and the enormous transport rolled inside.
"Ooooh…!"
The moment he laid eyes on his Gareld, painted a blood-red from head to toe, Jincheon let out a rapturous gasp and trembled all over. Heliane and Calsira had stuck with the default colors to avoid standing out, which only made Jincheon's Gareld all the more eye-catching.
"Thank you for waiting. We've completed the modifications exactly as you requested. Would you like to inspect them now?"
"We would."
The three of them took the master keys and climbed into the cockpits to check the new specs. After powering up, they verified the mechas' status and confirmed that the upgraded parts weren't just bolted on for show — they were properly integrated into the systems.
Jincheon's Gareld now had two engines mounted on its back, and the thrusters had been swapped out for higher-output models, allowing it to rotate and change direction even faster. Running the projected output numbers, he confirmed the machine was roughly 1.7 times faster than before. Exactly as he'd specified.
The other two checked their own machines, confirmed everything was in order, and climbed back out.
"Well?"
"Looks good."
"Everything's solid."
Satisfied that all three units had been properly modified, Jincheon signed the receipt for the Getchae technician they'd met three days earlier, confirming delivery of the upgraded mechas. He glanced around on the off chance the Cave-species man might be there, but he hadn't come along this time. The technicians and workers relocated the three mechas to their original berths and withdrew.
"Heh heh heh. Khheh heh heh. Hahahahahaha!"
Staring at the Gareld painted scarlet from crown to sole, Jincheon couldn't stop laughing.
"This world is the absolute best! Thrilling! Always something new! Yes! Yass!!"
"Hahaha!"
"Pffft."
Every time he bellowed those bizarre battle cries and shook his whole body, the sight was pure comedy — and both women broke into smiles.
"Then let's get to the Guild District, now! Join any guild and go fight something!"
Three days ago it had been Calsira, discovering for the first time what it meant to "have fun," who had been bouncing off the walls. Now Jincheon had taken the baton and was buzzing with excitement. He was filled with a single desire: get in the Gareld and fight, anything would do. He looked like a big dog wagging its tail like a helicopter, desperate for a walk. Heliane and Calsira, now stuck with the job of reining in that oversized hound, kept a wary eye on him to stop any premature rampage as they headed for the Guild District.
"So which guild are we joining?"
Obviously, joining multiple guilds wasn't an option. Once you signed with one, the others wouldn't take you.
"I've been thinking about it up through today…"
"Lie. You, agonizing over something like this?"
"…Okay, I thought about it for exactly ten minutes."
Jincheon was the same inside and out, so anyone who spent time with him could read his character in an instant. Unless a matter involved women, he never deliberated for long.
Keren had four guilds, each backed by one of the major corporations of Doperos — the merchant nation that had built the city. But Jincheon hadn't looked at corporate affiliations or guild specialties.
"We're going to whichever guild that Tucan man from three days ago put his request with."
"…Haa. Of course it ends up like this."
"Yeah, I more or less saw that coming."
Just as a mercenary could only join one guild, a client could only post a request with one. If you filed with all four and people from every guild swarmed in to complete the job, the accounting became a nightmare. What mercenary who finished a mission expecting the full posted fee would take kindly to being told to split the reward four ways?
So Jincheon checked all four guilds until he found the one with a Crypter purification request posted. It was the Bafelrod Guild — which only accepted mechas of D-class or higher and experienced veteran mercenaries.
Bafelrod pursued a premium strategy: difficult jobs with correspondingly high pay, attracting both clients and mercenaries who wanted exactly that. Skilled mercenaries had no interest in wasting time on low-difficulty, low-pay work, so the approach worked reasonably well. That was why the Tucan man whose Larium freighter had been contaminated had filed his request here. Of course, he was also checking with other mercenary companies just in case.
"Welcome. How may we assist you?"
Unlike the other guilds that used automated reception, Bafelrod's first-floor lobby staffed live attendants as part of its premium image. Neatly dressed and well-groomed, the receptionists greeted arrivals with polished courtesy, making visitors feel respected.
"We're here to join this guild. I was told showing this letter of introduction would do it."
Jincheon displayed the letter of introduction attached to the Bafelrod mail that had come through on his Bio Device.
"You have a letter of introduction. We're honored to have you with us."
Rough-edged mercenaries would have puffed up their chests at such formal treatment. Jincheon didn't so much as flicker an eyelash, as if it were only natural.
His eyes don't change at all. Someone used to this kind of reception?
Having dealt with countless mercenaries, the receptionist was skilled at reading people through their eyes — and Jincheon's complete lack of emotional reaction caught her interest.
After a brief verification process, Jincheon's group completed their guild registration and were issued IDs for access to Bafelrod's deep web — a site that was publicly available but nearly impossible to find through ordinary search methods. It hosted Bafelrod announcements, mission boards, and forums where mercenaries traded banter and information.
Without delay, Jincheon's party accepted the mission to purify the contaminated freighter.