An Invitation from the Social Circle
"Ahh~ Open wide, young master."
"Uh, Bell? Not in front of other people..."
"I see. It's only natural that it looks pathetic for a worthless hunk of scrap, built for combat yet miserably defeated and rescued by its master while in system shutdown, to now offer itself up for menial service. Of course you'd enjoy your drive-date with a brand-new AI that you've never met before. Compared to this incompetent, self-doubting, needy, egocentric, pathetic pile of metal desperate for validation, the young, perky, capable, and cute girl from TechnoKing would naturally catch your eye. And yet this pitiful, selfish mortal—no, beast—can't let go of its greed, so if it can't earn love again, it'll hack off its own legs, ram horns into its head, reinforce its chest plating, anything—"
"Aaaah! Fine, I got it! I'll eat, so please stop with the menhera rant!"
Bell, who had been reciting that endless tirade with the light fading from her eyes, finally smiled and shoved a bite of spicy pork ssam rice into my mouth.
The tender, slightly charred meat, infused with smoky flavor, mingled with the fiery sauce and assaulted my taste buds mercilessly. And right in front of me was steaming pork bone soup. When I was desperately fleeing through the rain, I'd craved something like this so badly. Now that it was here before my eyes, how could I not be overwhelmed with emotion? One sip of the fluffy rice and the savory, milky broth, and I could practically feel pure tears welling up in Kimchi Man's soul like Soju.
Waking up and ordering this without a care for appearances was the right call...!
"The more I see, the more surprising sides you have, Sir William! Who would've thought you'd enjoy Eastern cuisine."
Kate Coleman's voice came from across the table—kind, yet somehow cautious. Well, yeah. A blond blue-eyed earl with a title was in the middle of going "Kweeeh, so good~" live on stream. It must be a shock. Probably shattered some illusions. But hey, after cheating death, your first meal can't be a cucumber sandwich.
"Sorry for bringing in outside food when you went out of your way to prepare tea time."
"Not at all! If you were craving it, there's no helping it! Assisting you is my job, after all."
"It's all thanks to you, Ms. Coleman."
"Hehe, I hope you can relax and enjoy your stay."
The room we'd been shown to was a clean 4LDK villa—not ultra-luxurious, but tidy. I'd slept like a log until afternoon, then woken up for this meal. Bell seemed almost fully recovered after a night's rest and was moving around normally again.
"Assisting the young master... is my duty..."
She was putting on a front of being fine, but her dejected vibe was obvious. The shock of collapsing and leaving me alone against Climidocampus must've hit her hard. She'd played it off with sticky jealousy earlier as a joke, but when Ms. Coleman explained she'd be staying to guard me too, Bell had started to protest before going silent.
Though she called it protection, Ms. Coleman's real role is probably surveillance, right?
I snuck a sidelong glance at her. Bad timing—she was setting down her cup and our eyes met. Ms. Coleman flushed awkwardly, averted her gaze, and tucked her light purple hair behind her ear.
Oh crap. I turned to Bell beside me. Her face was shadowed, mouth agape like she'd lost her soul.
Great, I'd stirred up trouble for nothing. Time to change the subject.
"By the way, Ms. Coleman, how serious is my master's condition?"
"From what I heard, she's regained consciousness and is stable now. But she'll need a new prosthetic for her left arm, so discharge will take a bit longer."
Good to hear Master was recovering well. In this era, fixing people was trivial if you had the money. The bitter part was knowing Anastasis's shadow loomed over that tech. Tech and products aren't evil, but it still soured the mood.
Then Ms. Coleman clapped lightly.
"Oh, right—did you know Slough's central area has a massive commercial district? From street market stalls to complex malls and department stores, it's packed with shopping and convenience spots."
Sudden sales pitch? Come to think of it, the Shareholder had told me to go shopping if I had nothing better to do. We were waiting on transport and Master's recovery anyway, and I couldn't afford reckless moves under Ms. Coleman's watch. Time was the one thing I had plenty of—
"But as a fugitive, wandering around freely might not be wise."
"Don't worry! The whole commercial district is under Transco security's round-the-clock surveillance and patrols—watertight! Last month, murders dropped a whopping 30 cases!"
"Uh... is that something to brag about?"
"It's a significant achievement, young master. Last year, the same month had 427."
This insane cyberpunk world—I'm adapting, but surprises keep popping up. No wonder, even I, raised like a flower in a wealthy enclave, had my life threatened.
"Even so, you visiting a dense, unsecured area would pose serious safety risks. Of course, your will comes first, but I don't recommend it."
Bell laid out the straight talk. Honestly, I felt the same. Crowds weren't my thing anyway.
Ms. Coleman looked a bit troubled.
"Actually... to welcome you, Sir William, we're planning a small, informal social gathering at the Thames & Bray department store in the commercial district."
"Oh, is that with Transco execs or the sponsors of this mess?"
"Yes! The director said your presence would make the event even more meaningful."
Go show face, say thanks—they spent money and resources on me, so perform a bit in return. Elson was admired even in the City not long ago, so its heir makes a nice trophy. Fair enough; they're actually helping me. Bowing my head and spouting niceties costs nothing.
One issue, though—
"Plus, with Eton College nearby, it could be a chance to meet alumni. Nobles are used to social gatherings, right?"
"I, uh, dropped out of Eton after a year, and health issues kept me from most social events..."
"Gasp."
"Step back! Critical mental stability breach detected in young master. Psychological trauma signs manifesting!"
Bell went full gorilla mode, wrapping me in a hug. My face buried in her squishy wave-fluid semi-liquid armor, I let out a hollow chuckle. Ms. Coleman covered her mouth, looking like she'd said something unforgivable.
Don't look at me like that. I have Bell as a friend, so it's fine. Anyway, I'm okay. Clearing my throat to shift the mood, I said,
"Ahem! Skipping out would be rude anyway. When's the gathering?"
"Tomorrow at 7 PM! Thank you for deciding. Sir William. Lots of important people will be there, so security won't be an issue!"
"Any dress code?"
"Visit beforehand and get a party suit fitted! Better for protection too. We'll cover the cost!"
"Nah, I'll pay."
No need to rack up more bills. Still hugged, I looked up—Bell had no objections. I patted her arm to let go; she regretfully stroked my hair a few times before releasing me. Warmth lingered on my cheek.
Come to think of it, Bell was only given workout clothes here, so she needed an outfit too.
"Then Bell should get a suit fitted too. Ms. Coleman, black suit for security, right?"
"Pardon? B-Bell too? Uh, hold on."
She glanced between us, excused herself, and stepped out briefly. When she returned, she crouched apologetically.
"Um, sorry, but Bell can't attend."
"What? Why—"
"I checked, and high-performance combat units like Bell might make guests feel threatened."
"So you're saying I attend without my bodyguard?"
"I'm truly sorry. We'll ensure your safety as much as possible. I'll protect you with everything I've got!"
Absurd. A place crawling with armed guards and full-body cyborgs, and this nonsense? I didn't look, but I could imagine Bell's face. Ms. Coleman flinched glancing her way and quickly turned away.
She kept apologizing while enthusiastically explaining the enhanced security for the day. It felt unnaturally forced—was it just my imagination? I couldn't be sure.