Intercept
"So, just like Bell said, while you were trying to sneak out of the safehouse, a gang of unidentified augmented thugs ambushed you."
"Yes, yes."
"And while you were facing them off alone, Master intervened, wiped them all out together, then came to rescue me at the department store?"
"Exactly, young master. You've hit the core of it."
I listened to what had happened to Bell while we were separated. Apparently, the safehouse itself had been attacked, and everyone guarding it besides Bell—all the Transco people—were dead. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but it was still shocking enough.
"For the safehouse to be directly hit like that... how the hell did they screw up intel management so— Ow, hot hot!"
"Oh dear, does it hurt? Once the treatment's done, I can blow on it for you~."
"Spare me if I don't play up the drama."
Bell applied ointment to my wounds, then shone a small flashlight-like device glowing green over them. In an instant, the scratches on my body sealed up, turning back into smooth skin. After seeing me die and come back to life, it felt a bit off to be surprised by this, but damn, biotech had advanced to straight-up magic levels. Though I still wondered why they hadn't cracked baldness yet.
Anyway, once the treatment wrapped up adequately, I slipped my shirt back on and steered the conversation back.
"So, what did the guys who attacked you look like?"
"They weren't the conehead doll types, at least. Their gear was pretty standard."
"Armed with just regular firearms, you mean."
"And according to Ms. Kurayami Gawa's assessment, they seemed like a mercenary outfit."
"Mercenaries?"
I turned to my master. She'd been scheduled for discharge in three days, apparently. But she'd caught the riot news on the hospital TV, rushed straight to the safehouse, and linked up with Bell there.
Sensing my gaze, Master explained.
"They lacked any uniformity in drills or equipment—the kind of freedom that screams mercenaries, separate from their organization."
"Like a pro's instinct, huh."
"Of course, we can't pinpoint identities or backers yet. We'll have to hope Transco digs it up during cleanup."
"Hmm..."
"Hm? Young lord, something bothering you?"
Master's judgment on them being mercenaries was probably spot-on. She was a legend in that world, after all. What didn't add up for me was this: they sent a direct agent after me, but for Bell—an ACS-6H—just a handful of grunts with conventional firepower? No real effort to cover tracks, either. And considering an ACS unit's combat value, wasn't that deployment way too unbalanced? Safehouse location aside.
It felt like someone—not aiming to distract, but straight-up underestimating Bell—had acted on their own...
"For Bellatrix, it was probably just about tying her feet. Their moves lined up with that."
"Could be, but you know Anastasis doesn't trust mercenaries. They rake in cash selling fancy [Elixir] and stockpile massive standing armies."
This was a major issue with over half of Elson's voting shares on the line. If they'd only targeted me, fine—but throwing mercs only at Bell made no sense.
"Fair point, but... any other suspects for the backer, young lord?"
"......"
I stared intently at Master's face, her purple eyes wavering. She seemed to catch where my suspicions lay. I trusted the master I'd known and who saved me. I just didn't trust the background she'd allied with to do it.
Howl and Shareholder had only guaranteed saving me. Bluntly, even without Master's say-so, those damn self-proclaimed investors could've moved to eliminate Bell on their own whim, and it wouldn't raise an eyebrow.
Anyway, my revered master genuinely seemed clueless. With no hard evidence or intent to grill her, I withdrew my gaze, changed the subject.
"For now, let's interrogate the prisoner we stashed in the warehouse. Need to get the facts straight first."
"You mean the attacker you personally subdued, young master?"
"Yeah. Worry is whether he'll crack easy. Got any good methods?"
"If you look away for a moment, I can handle it somehow."
Bell said that while sparking electricity in one hand and pulsing a lighter-flame-sized red glow in the other. I waved her off with exaggerated horror, and she lifted just the corner of her mouth in a shadowy smirk, face expressionless otherwise.
That shit's actually scary, so please don't.
Anyway, without a word, we headed to the warehouse.
The outside commotion had mostly calmed by now, it seemed. Transco wasn't run by idiots—they'd scrambled forces and deployed electronic warfare assets. Managed to push back the rioters before they breached the department store.
Eventually, some gas—presumed Anastasis-sourced—spread, turning them into zombie hordes charging straight into gunfire. Losing purpose and ideology, used up by megacorps to the end, shattering at gunpoint. Hard to imagine a more utterly pointless, grotesque death.
But the real problem came after repelling the rioters, from Transco's support troops entering the building.
"What? They already moved the prisoner?"
"Yes, Lord William. That over-augmented Exose had her circuits fried beyond analysis, so as a measure to secure the sole key witness safely—"
While we'd checked the panic room and chatted in the med bay during treatment, the entering forces had nabbed and hauled off the prisoner.
Lazing around when we needed them, lightning-fast when it suited. Hell, how'd they even know the location without us telling anyone?
On that question, the Transco commander—with his sporty hair—replied:
"The internal CCTV was still running, of course."
"Then why no heads-up to me?"
"You provided immense help in this incident, true—but it's still an event in our domain. Apologies for not informing you prior."
"Hah, then who gave the order?"
I was the victim here; telling an outsider to butt out wouldn't fly. Time to use the contact Isabella Owen gave me. Better not be below VP level, or I'd show them what real abuse of power looks like.
"One of the registered directors. Said you'd know her as [Shareholder]."
Shit, higher-up. So that's what she'd been scheming?
Seeing my irritation, the guards shifted their eyes warily. Tension rippled through the area. The sporty-haired commander shivered, eyes darting as he swallowed hard. I watched it all, then spoke slowly.
"Then connect me to Shareholder. I have words for her."
"Th-the director is currently occupied, as far as I know—"
"Hah, figures. Just give me the contact then."
"I can't just hand that out— Agh? Agaagh?!"
"?!"
Suddenly, the commander convulsed like he couldn't control his body. Mouth gaping in a scream, light leaking from his eyes.
What the—hacking?
Me, the guards, and nearby Transco troops raised alerts, hands to weapons.
The arrogant voice from Acton's villa, Slough's underground, and tonight's dinner. Shareholder had remotely hijacked the agent to speak to me.
"Déjà vu entrance."
I narrowed my eyes in wariness. Ignoring it, she continued in her businesslike tone.
"First off, apologies for inadequate protection. Our poor response nearly put you in peril."
"Got it, but can you just casually take the prisoner I captured?"
"Hoho, that's a bit hurtful. We're in the same boat—surely not so black-and-white."
This guy's playing word games again. I caught him, so he's mine—what's the issue? Especially admitting they just watched.
"Same boat or not, some things need protecting. Can't undo taking him, but yield the first interrogation to me?"
"You, with no proper tech or gear? Transco security looks shaky after this, but our setup's superior, fact is."
True, but I don't trust you. As talks ran parallel, Master stepped in.
"Director. This exceeds the contract's explicit clauses."
"Sigh, ronin. Rushing out half-recovered—your loyalty to your lord is impressive."
"The young lord, as the victim, has a right to the full details. Blocking access demands justification."
"Got one. The prisoner's in critical condition from poison."
"““???!!”””
The bio-comm crackled with obnoxious laughter. Shareholder must've seized control.
"Tried to suicide post-failure, bit a poison capsule or somesuch. We'll be busy keeping him alive."
"I checked—no such thing."
"Wouldn't know. Assassins hiding tricks? Shocking. Want video of his state?"
Pointless; self-inflicted or your doing—who can tell?
"....Then contact me first when he wakes."
"Doubt things'll stay leisurely. Talk then?"
Bitter taste in my mouth, I nodded reluctantly. With my sole intel source gone, no choice but to say it.
"......While I was away, the safehouse I stayed in was attacked. Colleague's safe, but please investigate thoroughly and share intel."
"Naturally. Focus on recovery and regrouping—no worries."
The sly partner cheerfully agreed and cut the line.
"Hoo...."
The proxy shuddered as awareness returned. Him blankly staring around, then at me dumbfounded—couldn't help a hollow laugh.