The Unscratched Winning Ticket
I had absolutely no idea how I was supposed to treat this girl who had somehow found her way to my villa and gotten me out. She'd waltzed in unannounced declaring, "I'm S-Grade!" — how was anyone meant to take that? Was I supposed to congratulate her? And what part of her was S-Grade, exactly?
"S-Grade? What is that even supposed to mean?"
"You healed me, big sis! That's why!"
"'Big sis' this, 'big sis' that. Not that you're wrong."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Go on."
This "big sis" business was going to take some getting used to. So was having the servants call me "the young miss." The Dragon Blood of some ancestor or other had awakened, leaving me with vertical slit pupils just like Grandfather's — everything about me had changed far too much. Still, it was my punishment. I would simply have to bear it.
Anyway — what exactly was S-Grade about her?
"My mana circuit grade! Thanks to you I got cured, so I went and got measured, and that's what it said! They told me I might even grow all the way up to SSS-Grade!"
"What...?"
"Isn't it amazing? It's all thanks to you!"
Not the potential to grow into S-Grade — she already was S-Grade? And she might even reach SSS-Grade someday? A child like that had been groaning away because she couldn't cover a single treatment bill?
I suppose while her circuits were torn, her mana had simply leaked out — she couldn't even register as S-Grade in the first place. Well, fair enough. Pour water into a bucket full of holes and there's no telling how much it holds.
So I'd gone and scratched an unscratched winning lottery ticket. Not that I'd meant to.
Only five people in all of recorded history had ever possessed SSS-Grade mana circuits. Which meant this child might one day stand on the same line as the people said to have ripped a city's defensive barrier grid apart single-handedly. And this was the girl currently scuffing my floor with the tip of her shoe.
Sky had simply told me to get along with people, and I'd done "getting along" my own way — so how had it turned into this?
"So how did you even get here?"
"Some grandpa told me to write my name, and when I did, they sent me here!"
"Does this grandpa of yours happen to have vertical pupils? Like mine?"
"Um... yes!"
Grandfather had already pulled the strings, then. The company had reaped an enormous gain, so he'd lifted my confinement at once.
An active S-Grade already names its own price; a child who might become SSS-Grade was nothing short of a strategic weapon. And I'd been released as my reward for unearthing that strategic weapon.
Seen in that light, even the convoy of vehicles lined up outside made sense. For a simple pickup, there had been an awful lot of escorts — every last one of them there to guard her. Was it my imagination, or did their security grade look higher than mine? Somehow I doubted it was.
More to the point — what kind of contract had Grandfather gone and signed with a child this young? Going by her, she hadn't read a word of it.
"You wouldn't still have that paper the grandpa had you sign, would you?"
"Yes! Here!"
"Good."
I took the contract the girl handed over and read it through. If anything in it smelled off, I'd have it voided. This, too, was all part of getting along — wasn't performing good deeds I'd never once bothered with precisely what "getting along" meant?
When I finished reading, I could only tilt my head. The signature at the bottom was unquestionably Grandfather's, yet the contract was absurdly lenient — this from a man who went soft only for me and our immediate family and showed everyone else no mercy whatsoever.
There was exactly one clause that made sense of it: the one stipulating that this girl named Yurina would become my direct subordinate. Apparently he meant to hand Yurina over to me. That was why the terms weren't airtight — he was leaving her in my keeping. All I really had to do was make sure no other corporation snatched her up first.
"Yurina. That's your name, right?"
"Yes! What's yours, big sis?"
"Maximiliano Salazar."
"Sister Zarr!"
"Zarr...? Fine. Call me whatever you like."
In all my life, I had never met a single person who butchered my name like that. Most people tripped over themselves bolting honorifics onto my surname from every direction.
Yurina, delighted by who knows what, grabbed my finger and shook it.
She really was tiny.
So this little hand was what had freed me from a year of confinement.
An S-Grade windfall who had even gotten me released — her shortening my name hardly mattered. Besides, as far as the contract was concerned she was as good as mine already, so I could let it slide.
Did she have any idea, though?
"Yurina. Do you understand what everything written on this paper means?"
"Yep! Grandpa said I got a job! He said all I have to do is keep Sister Zarr company and play!"
"Play with...? No — right. Of course."
Grandfather. However immature I may be, you're telling me a child this young is to be my playmate?
I fought down the urge to heave a long sigh. Nothing good ever came of a child hearing an adult sigh.
But swallowing it only made the servant beside me pull a strange face.
What.
Did she think I was about to bite the kid's head off? Honestly, the old me probably would have. The thought annoyed me, so I looked away.
"Fine. I'll play with you. What shall we do?"
"Let's go look around outside! I've never been here before!"
"Yeah? Sure, why not."
This was probably her first time in the Upper District. Was there even anything worth showing her? I could hardly entertain her the way I usually entertained myself — and besides, carousing that wildly felt like sullying this pure body Sky had given me, which I rather hated the idea of.
So for the time being, I decided to stroll the Upper District with Yurina.
Beyond the weather barrier overhead, black rain clouds drifted past. The lower districts would be getting soaked right about now; up here, you'd be hard-pressed to catch so much as wet pavement.
Yurina craned her neck for the longest time, watching the raindrops burst and scatter against the barrier. Everything around her was already wondrous enough that she was gawking, mouth hanging open.
Just then, from somewhere far off, came the sound of someone wailing in despair.
I looked — a man in a rumpled researcher's coat was pressed forehead to the pavement, begging.
"Please, somebody, anybody, help me! With just one billion credits I can complete my research...!"
For a beggar, that was a steep ask. And not exactly a sight Yurina needed to see. I took her hand and tried to steer us back the other way — but Yurina had spotted the rumpled man ages ago.
"Sister Zarr! What's wrong with that mister?"
"He's asking for help."
"Help...? Oh! Then you can help him, big sis!"
"Me?"
"Yeah! You helped me too! 'Cause you're nice!"
I am not nice. Sky told me to get along with people — that's all any of this is.
Right. Let's just call this part of getting along with people too. A billion credits was pocket change anyway. How much had that vehicle cost — the one drunk-me rammed into a fountain? Repairs included, it had come to about that much, if I remembered right. If that much money bought one person's smile, wasn't it a bargain?
That was probably what Sky would want.
Probably.
"Secretary."
"Yes?"
"Come here a moment."
With my internal implants gone, I had to reach my secretary through a device I'd brought along separately. Having to press buttons by hand for what used to connect at a mere thought was unbearably tedious.
There had even been the incident where my finger grazed the wrong spot, the camera switched on, and the poor woman was treated to an extended close-up of my face. Not my fault. I hadn't touched a handheld device since I was tiny — what did she expect? In the end, Yurina saved the day by finding the call button for me. It wasn't as if I was incapable of managing something this simple.
Anyway, before long the secretary came gliding up in a gleaming limousine, and I headed for the beggar with her and Yurina in tow.
"You. Can you finish your research with one billion credits?"
"Of course! Please...! I swear you will not be disappointed!"
"Good. Secretary?"
"Understood."
"Thank you... thank you so much...!"
"Yurina, we're going."
"Okay! Thank you, Sister Zarr!"
I left the secretary with the man and climbed into the limousine with Yurina. The mansion would offer a child her age far more to have fun with, anyway. Through the rear window I could see the secretary combing through the man's holographic projector.
She'd handle it.
I opened the fridge between the seats and handed Yurina a juice. She took it with a delighted little gasp and drank.
Getting along really was easy.
At this rate, would I get to see Sky again soon?
The next few days passed without incident. Yurina came by every single day, and the secretary dropped in from time to time to report on the research's progress. I gave a vague nod each time. I couldn't make heads or tails of the research no matter how I listened, so I just let it wash over me. Blah-blah, Grandpa this, Grandpa that — boring.
I should have listened properly. Who could have guessed that tuning out would come back around like this?
"Salazar. Do you know what this is?"
"I'm afraid I don't...?"
Grandfather. Aren't you busy? Why are you in my house...?
The man who had helmed the number-two Megacorp well into his twilight years was standing in my home. Had I done something wrong? All I'd done lately was share meals with Yurina and keep her entertained.
He couldn't be here to scold me for playing with a child too much. No — you're the one who wrote "play with her" into the contract. I did exactly as instructed. So why?
And what on earth was that pill in his hand?
The pill Grandfather held was smaller than a fingernail, a golden circuit glowing softly within it. The box he'd carried it in was pointlessly grandiose — it demanded fingerprint, iris, and mana-wavelength verification just to open.
And for some reason, Grandfather was beaming. A man whose face had never worn anything but severity, smiling like that — somehow it was terrifying.
Behind him, my secretary looked like she knew exactly what was going on, watching me with every bit as proud a glow as his.
Why did everyone look like they were in on something only I didn't know? What was it? I honestly had no idea.
"This is the Hair Loss Cure you succeeded in developing for me. Our grandson became a granddaughter, and at last she's come to her senses...! Soon you'll be ready to inherit my seat...!"
"Pardon...?"
"Me...?"
"I have never done any such thing in my life?"