Paranormal Link-34
KABOOM! For a split second, I thought Blanca had backhanded me across the face. The shockwave alone was that intense.
CRASH! And in the next instant, the killer puppet that had been about to slice my throat like a steak was flung into a junk pile in the corner, leaving only its murder-arm clutched in Blanca's gauntlet. A crater deep enough to bury its face in had formed in its chest—it was totally smashed.
She didn't kill the kid, did she? Worried about Blanca after that insanely powerful hit, I whipped around to check behind me. I'd seen the neighbor lady move from back there just before, but neither of them was right nearby. For a heartbeat, I pictured a future where I became "Isan" to Lopez Wife, but then I spotted the two women not far off. Looked like she'd caught Blanca properly as she got bounced back.
"Nice one!" I couldn't help shouting as I started toward them.
...Whew. Good thing I hadn't botched the job. The protectee didn't have a scratch....
I let out a sigh of relief confirming the two of them looked fine, when a trickle of blood started running from Blanca's forehead....
"...Ah."
The future where I became "Isan" to Lopez Wife flashed before my eyes again.
But right now, there was something even more pressing. Those eyes. The yellowish-brown irises were fixed on the unconscious Blanca, her eyes closed. More precisely, on the blood trickling from her forehead.
Those unreadable eyes stared blankly. Her anxious, trembling hand reached out slowly.
No, this was not handled well at all! Suspecting another freakout was kicking off, I whipped my exhausted body into gear and charged over. A normal person might think she was just trying to wipe the blood or stop the bleeding, but after seeing her lose it earlier, I couldn't take it that easy. And who the hell moves that laggy when wiping blood?
"......"
Even as I closed right in, she didn't budge from staring at Blanca. Like she hadn't noticed me at all. Her still-trembling hand seemed at a total loss for what to do.
I slowly raised my blade to the statue-still woman. As the knife hovered at her throat, her eyes snapped to life, shifting from Blanca to the blade I'd thrust forward.
Our gazes met across the knife edge, her yellowish-brown eyes locking with mine.
"...I'm already beat to hell today. If you're gonna make it worse, give me a heads-up. I need time to brace myself."
Specifically, time to figure out how to suffer like I'm shitting my guts out without actually dying. Never thought I'd be stressing this after scrapping with scrap heaps in a junkyard, not after tangling with the Heavenly Demon. Life's a bitch like that... and so on.
She slowly lifted her head, staring at the blade at her throat.
"......"
"......"
Her expression wasn't exactly reassuring, but for the moment, it was a relief.
...Good enough to talk, at least. I confirmed her face and sheathed the blade. Slipped off my coat and spread it roughly on the ground. Carefully laid Blanca down on it. Then, wary of breaks, I slowly removed the gauntlet from her right arm.
She just kept watching me and Blanca silently. Awkwardly mindful of her, I checked Blanca over. External wounds: just a slight tear on the forehead... No bone or joint issues, seems like.
As I poked around Blanca, the mercs and scavs who'd been hanging back finally approached.
"Thanks for the help." The guy in front—probably their rep—half-bowed in gratitude. The young one who'd been covering the rear with a shotgun earlier.
Short words, stiff neck even after I saved his ass—plenty to set my inner martial world dragon off on a normal day, but I was too wiped today. I waved him off dismissively: beat it.
"If we meet at the Guild later, drinks on me. ...Thanks to you too, ma'am."
...This prick's discriminating? He bowed deep to the neighbor lady still sitting on the ground, so I shot him a look. Then a hand thrust in from the side.
"...?"
Wondering what, I turned to see a merc-looking woman offering me something wrapped in plastic. A square something.
"Figured the kid got hurt. Bandage."
"...Appreciate it." I took it while glancing sidelong at Blanca, replying to the merc woman.
She bowed deeper than the guy and left. You only get a pass 'cause of your buddy. I flicked a glance at the merc dude groveling to the neighbor lady as he backed away.
...Well, what do brainless thugs know? To outsiders, yeah, the woman who'd skewered 'em easy probably looks more badass than me dancing with a knife mid-shitstorm tears. Even I know she's scary. Not that I couldn't take her... etc.
"Nngh...."
As I mentally salvaged my pride, Blanca stirred. Groaning softly, she opened her eyes, wincing like her head was ringing, and tried to sit up. I pressed her shoulder lightly: don't.
"Dizzy?"
From a quick once-over, no major injuries, but I couldn't check her head properly—bones and muscles seemed fine—so I asked the usual.
"...Gauntlet must've grazed me when it bounced. Stings a bit, but no dizziness."
She rubbed the forehead wound with her handknuckles, wiping the seeping blood, and brushed it off.
Definitely more scrape than smash. I watched her pupils and movements closely, then handed over the bandage.
"Here, take this for now."
"...A bandage? You carry these?"
Blanca's eyes went wide at the one in my hand.
Is that that surprising? Her reaction—like she'd witnessed a miracle—shredded my fragile ego enough. Ungrateful brat.
"...That big a deal? Not mine. Merc lady gave it earlier."
But true to form, I was the macho type who didn't carry that crap, so I owned up.
Joking? Blanca shut her mouth a sec, then cracked an awkward smile.
"Kinda figured you'd say 'spit on it and it'll heal.' Anyway, this is pretty good stuff...."
"Chump change compared to their lives."
"Fair," she muttered. I slapped the bandage on her forehead. Stop the bleed till we get home. Blood in your eyes is a pain.
"Anywhere else hurting?"
"...Shoulder's a little stiff."
Rubbing her right shoulder, she reminded me of her move right before impact. I'd said she had talent before—maybe she's even better than I thought.
Musing that, I eyed the gauntlet exosuit I'd removed. Dented plating, chunks torn off—the impact was no joke, but no breaks anywhere meant she'd redirected it in that instant. Muscles'd be wrecked for a while, sure, but unbroken's unbroken. Bounced away without worse injury thanks to the lady? Forehead scrape's a win. Bottom line: more talent than I figured. Martial arts or cyberware.
"You got real talent, kid. Keep at it."
"...Weird way to compliment someone."
"But a compliment." I grinned at her bemused face, then sobered up. "That said, no more reckless charges. You'll die for real."
Whether my words or tone, Blanca flinched and looked at me.
"You did good, but don't make it a habit. Got it? If that bot ignored me for you, dead. If the untested gauntlet blew, major hurt. If she hadn't caught you, dead."
"...Yeah. But still...."
She pouted, starting to say something, then trailed off.
"......"
Her sulk bugged me. Thinking it over, I'd skipped something. Touched my neck—stung from a graze earlier. That was the itch. Best fix it quick, so I cleared my throat.
"Ahem... Bit late, but thanks. Owe you my neck."
Face too awkward to watch, I stood. Turned away, pretending to scan the side—neighbor lady was watching me. Same look Blanca had at the bandage.
"What're you staring at?"
She smirked. Blanca teased from below: shy much?
Time flies—sun dipping far off, painting a decent sunset. Iron Valley, junked heaps everywhere fitting its name, now wrapped in peaceful silence like the chaos never happened.
"Hm...?"
A little longer. Just before Alpha's calc said the over survivor's life would end, something crashed into his view.
Gauntlet jammer off already? Nah, impossible. Military-grade or not, routed to leave no trace—his calcs were always spot-on.
Not her in the way. Finally, he regarded the rude intruder in his feed. Younger face than he knew. Clenched lips, yellowish-brown eyes.
[BOOM!]
The view shook wildly. Link severed.
"......"
All signals gone, he sank into thought, silent.
Tap.
Finally, a small noise broke the room's hush.
Tap, tap.
Fingers drumming steadily now.
Tap tap tap.
... Tap!
"...Hate repeating experiments. Fine, open two project files."
No one to answer, but he muttered to the air.
"First file: attach 'Talent Heredity Project' from 20 years, 11 months ago. Project name..."
Tap tap tap. Pausing to drum, then—like something fun hit him—he flashed a grinning emoticon across his visor.
"In honor of that hack, let's call it Subject 24."