Unlicensed Driver
"Kana! Suicide drones approaching from 5 o'clock and 7 o'clock—12 units!"
I know, so focus on driving, my lord!
*I don't even have a license, why...* But with my life on the line, I had no room for complaints. I gripped the wheel, hands slick with sweat, manipulating it with desperate precision.
BOOM! An explosion rumbled from a distance. Lucky for us, the laser had intercepted it. The aftershock rocked the vehicle slightly.
Argh! Anti-tank missile incoming! The drones were decoys! Earl, yank the wheel left—now!
"What? There's a cargo truck parked right up ahead!"
If you wanna get blown to bits, then don't!
In the corner of my vision, filtered through the VR glasses, a glaring red warning flashed. The vehicle's radar and cameras had detected an incoming threat. Accompanied by shrill alarms, a nagging woman's voice screeched nonstop, like nails on a chalkboard. My ears were ringing.
SCREECHHH!WHOOSH!
I wrenched the wheel left, and a projectile streaked past where we'd just been. That had been close.
*But at this rate, we'll smash right into that cargo truck...!*
HISS! I jerked the wheel again like a madman before impact, grazing the truck just enough to scrape by without a full collision. Thank God my heart had already been through hell, or I'd have keeled over from a coronary.
Why the hell was I, of all people—in a world where self-driving was the norm—manually wrestling a steering wheel through this nightmare? To explain that, I'd have to rewind about 15 minutes.
Pushing aside my doubts about my body for the moment, I'd found Bell collapsed inside an abandoned building, hoisted her up in my arms, and bolted toward the outskirts of Acton. Lucky she'd crash-landed indoors; a direct hit on the concrete walls would've wrecked her worse.
Master's guidance and my implants were offline, but I'd guessed the rendezvous spot for our ride. Far off, something was lasing down a swarm of Anastasis drones in a fierce firefight.
*That's not something you spot with the naked eye... must be zooming in with enhanced optics or something.*
It wasn't just my vision. Electronic functions were toast, but my reconstituted body's specs were anything but ordinary. Raw physical prowess even surpassed my old self. Weird sensation, but useful right now—no real aversion yet.
Thus burdened front and back with Bell, Master, and the great sword to boot, I sprinted effortlessly to a park on Acton's edge.
"Lasers firing from this direction... ah, there it is."
True to Techno-King's handiwork, the vehicle sported a radical design rare even in Europe: razor-edged angles that screamed "I'll dice anything in my path," thick armored plating, and turrets declaring zero tolerance for threats. All told, it was a fully sealed pickup truck that could pass for an armored personnel carrier. No mistaking it for anything else.
"No one's on standby? Wait, looks like there was."
Around the truck, net-covered soldiers and a few downed humanoid units lay scattered. Anastasis drone and unmanned wreckage smoldered here and there—clear signs of a brutal skirmish. The vehicle itself showed only minor scorch marks and dents.
But as I approached, the laser- and autocannon-equipped turret swiveled toward me. A shrill woman's voice blared from the speakers.
Halt! Who the hell are you? Can't you see this is a declared op zone? Vanish in 10 seconds or I open fire!
"Heir to the Straford Earldom and Elson Management, William Wentworth! I was told to expect me, right?"
What? Face matches... but your body comp data doesn't line up with the briefing?
"Complicated circumstances! Check my passengers!" I jerked my chin toward Master on my back. She'd guide us, so they'd know her face.
But no dice.
I see [Ronin], but she's unconscious. For all I know, you're a clone using prisoners as cover. Anastasis would pull that shit.
Ronin? Must be their callsign for Master. Whoever was inside was wasting precious time on paranoia. Infuriating.
THRUMMM—VRMMM—VRMMM! Mid-deliberation on persuasion, massive propeller noise swelled. Anastasis air units: attack choppers spinning rotors, flying cars, drone swarms—bearing down on us.
"Screw it...!"
I gritted my teeth, ignored the turret's aim, and charged. Once those forces arrived, it was game over either way—all or nothing.
Hey! I said I'm shooting! Get lost!
"You see them too, right? We stay, we all die! Open the damn door!"
Fine, you idiot! Backseat for your two passengers, driver's seat for you!
Driver's seat? She wasn't the driver?
SCREECH! Doors hissed open. Peering inside, I froze.
*No one in the cab... empty?*
Shoving down unease, I buckled Bell and Master into seats, then slid into the driver's. American-style left-hand drive. But as I reached for the belt—
CLUNK! Restraints snapped from the seatback, coiling around my neck like cuffs.
"Guh! What the—? What're you doing?!"
The forward windshield doubled as a display, projecting a 3D cartoon character: twintailed blonde with draconic horns and tail, gothic dress—pure Techno-King aesthetic. Vehicle AI, obviously.
The familiar shrill voice piped through internal speakers.
If you're really the 18th Straford Earl, listen up. Try anything funny, you die. You know the destination, right?
"Heard Slough... but who are you, and what's with the chokehold?"
Eh, too tiring to play coy. Call me [KANA=CHAN]. Techno-King's masterpiece: multipurpose genius wife, mother, beauty, sexiness AI extraordinaire.
*No coy at all.*
"Then why restrain me? You hacked, trying to hand me over?"
Ha! Know how long I've been fending off intrusion attempts? Behave till destination, no harm. Time's short—best for both of us, yeah?
Infuriating, but she was right. Enemy in sight, no time to waste.
"Fine. No funny business. Let's roll."
I nodded; a pleased chuckle from Kana, and the truck lurched forward.
VROOOOM!
Minutes in, relentless acceleration pushed past 200 kph. Restraints tight but breathable. I could snap them if needed, and her cockiness suggested external defenses held.
......Or so I'd thought.
Op zone alerts meant empty roads, dead lights—only parked cars to dodge. Kana's truck blew through lanes, speed climbing, handling flawlessly.
BAM! BAM!WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
Explosions nonstop outside. Autocannon chatter, launch bays firing. Thoughtful touch: speakers played soothing classics.
Tatarara pam pam pam~ Tatarara pam pam pam~
Cello and violin lulled me; eyes closed. Body fine, but mental fatigue crashed in. Bell and Master handled the heavy lifting, but exhaustion was exhaustion. Missing emotion regulators didn't help.
Why the body change? Mystery tattoos? Who downed Climidocampus, how? Questions swirled, but I ignored them. Meditate till Slough—mere tens of minutes.
THUD! Jolt. Ignored, focused on music.
BOOM! Close blast; shockwave sloshed us. Kana's got it.
CLICK. Neck pressure gone—restraints released. I leaned back deeper...
Earl!! Grab the wheel!!!
Eyes snapped open: truck veering right, about to plow through the guardrail.
"What the fu—!"
Instinct kicked in; I seized the wheel, yanking left.
SCREECH! Front cleared rail, but rear clipped it. Shock nearly tore the wheel free; I wrestled it steady.
"Kana! What happened?! System glitch?!"
Drop the =CHAN. No bandwidth for driving! Attacks pouring in real and virtual—head's exploding!
"You're the 'genius multipurpose' AI—what gives?!"
Screw it! You drive; I'll handle the rest. That's why the seat's there! VR glasses in overhead—put 'em on!
Dazed, I popped the compartment: sporty shades with five-color lenses. Donning them overlaid vehicle status, cams, and Kana's avatar in my HUD.
Easy peasy—just follow real-time VR cues. Do exactly that. Got it? Fighting! Ganbare!
Cheerleader Kana emoticon popped up. Grimacing, I gripped the wheel. Interior cam showed my face: shell-shocked.
