The Academy (2) - My First Personal Weapon
"Huh... So something like that really happened back then? What a ridiculously absurd reason..."
The director rubbed his chin in disbelief after hearing my answer, squeezing his eyes shut. "Those Development Department bastards, I swear..."
"Don't be too hard on the Development Department people. I don't know about you, Director, but they've helped me out a lot—not just with the Mana Activator incident."
When I let out a small snort of laughter, the director gave a hollow chuckle and pressed a hand to his forehead. Even he must have found it absurd. The first negotiation table had opened because of the Mana Activator the Development Department created, and the second table had been forced open by another drug they'd made. That drug was the near-death experience medication.
Thirteen years ago, when I first entered this research facility, it was the substance that kept me unconscious for four full years. There was a tiny flaw in the drug, so I woke up ten hours earlier than expected. Already suffering from severe dehydration after not eating or drinking for four years, the longer I remained conscious, the worse my thirst became. By the ten-hour mark I was seriously wondering, Am I going to die of thirst? I never let it show in front of the director, though.
Thanks to that, I already had one stack of negotiation rights. The Mana Activator incident added a second stack, letting me force the director into two negotiation tables... That was the whole story.
"It's no big deal, right?"
"It's such a non-issue that it's actually kind of disappointing..."
"Besides, it's not really important right now, is it?"
"That's true." The director chuckled and nodded. After all, the truly important conversation wasn't about the past—it was about the academy that lay ahead.
"I can pretty much guess. The entrance ceremony is in a week... so you need a weapon, right?"
"Exactly. I want to be issued a personal weapon for use at the academy."
In the academy from Cyber Psycho, every student showed up with their own personal weapon. These were custom tools tailored to one's ability—essentially dedicated weapons. The game offered insanely detailed customization on top of option selection, so personal weapons were considered one of Cyber Psycho's defining features.
But games don't hand you an SSS-rank overpowered ultimate weapon right from the start. This one was no exception. Even if you could choose options, there were limits to their values, which meant gathering rarer and rarer materials as you progressed. Fully completing a personal weapon's final specs usually happened near the end of the game.
I, however, was different. The protagonist had no choice but to divide their parents' inheritance and settle for a mediocre personal weapon... but I could start with full specs. No—far beyond that.
Why? Because the country would supply the materials needed for my personal weapon.
"Um... as long as it's not too excessive..." The director seemed to be testing me, worried I might go on a spending spree. But it was a meaningless struggle.
The reason lay in one of the Ten Commandments: the clause called "Value of Labor." Its effect stated that the nation or a corporation must compensate workers with an amount fitting the value of their labor. Of course, since the other party was the state, there were ways to circumvent it... but would they really use such complicated loopholes on a seven-year-old? I didn't think so.
"Aw, come on. I've been supplying mana for free for the past seven years. This much should be within acceptable limits, right?"
"Ah, now that I think about it, even if it's excessive it should be fine." The moment I deliberately emphasized the word "free," the director's face turned deathly pale and he immediately took back his previous words.
It was a simple either-or: Would you rather pay me what I've earned, or just buy this for me? A normal company would choose to pay a salary rather than purchase materials dozens of times more expensive than precious gems. But the amount of mana I'd generated over seven years could practically replace the nation's entire oil supply. Converting that into money? I didn't even want to try calculating it in my head.
When I let out an ominous little "hehe," the director broke into a cold sweat and asked, "S-so, what kind of weapon do you want?"
When he heard my answer, the director practically jumped. Still, he must have decided it was cheaper than paying what he owed me, because he eventually nodded. "I'll have this cost deducted from the Hellion national budget..."
"I'm satisfied."
It really was a satisfying deal.
*
A week later, the academy's entrance ceremony had arrived.
"Finally, I'm breaking out."
Had there ever been a moment in my life that made me this nervous? Seven full years. If you included the time I'd spent asleep, I'd been trapped in that basement for over thirteen years, producing nothing but mana. All my memories of the outside world came from my previous life.
"Hoo... ah..."
Stepping out of the research facility building, I took a deep breath of fresh air. Despite being a high-security lab, it was tucked away deep in a forest, so instead of city smog I smelled wildflowers and the clean scent of leaves and trees.
I turned to look back at the facility. A futuristic building that clashed completely with the surrounding forest. The glass outer walls let you see the employees moving around inside, but knowing the real heart of this place was the basement, I smirked at the thought that I alone knew its secrets.
Then I left it completely behind. The helicopter waiting in front of me would carry me from that basement into a vast new world.
With my heart soaring, I opened the helicopter door and climbed inside. A familiar voice greeted me.
"Plea! Long time no see!"
"Eek! Dana?"
I nearly threw a straight punch at the woman's face that suddenly popped out, but the moment I recognized it as Dana—the face I'd grown used to seeing over four years—I relaxed my clenched fist.
"It's been two years, huh? How's your body? Feeling better?"
"Yes... What about you, Dana? Are you okay?"
The last time I'd seen her, she was burning alive, unable to withstand the sun's heat. Back then my ability had gone berserk and I'd been half out of my mind, but I still remembered that I'd crossed the line.
When guilt twisted in my chest and I smiled awkwardly, Dana gently stroked my head as if to comfort me.
"No... The burns from back then healed completely in a month, and there were no lingering effects. And if we're talking about who should feel sorry, I'm the one who owes you a bigger apology...?"
Even though I knew you'd rot away in that place for the rest of your life, I turned a blind eye... Dana swallowed those words, hiding the darkness spreading through her heart and simply smiled.
The current Plea was like a single bird trying to see the world from inside that cramped cage. Dana didn't want to ruin the first flap of those wings with a guilt-ridden expression, so she faced me with a bright, sunny smile.
"Hey, Plea. What's that leather case you're carrying on your back?"
"Oh, this?" At Dana's curious question, I touched the leather case I'd been carrying since leaving the lab. "It's my first personal weapon."
"Personal weapon...? Personal weapons are great, but isn't the size a bit much?"
Dana's observation was fair. No matter how you measured it, the case was over a meter long. In fact, at 130 centimeters it was only slightly shorter than my 156-centimeter height.
Of course, there were heroes who used personal weapons like long spears and wielded arms nearly twice their own height, but that was limited to combat-oriented heroes whose foundation was martial arts. Ability-based heroes usually preferred accessories, staves, or moderately sized weapons for self-defense. Some ability users who wanted a personal weapon for protection but lacked confidence in melee combat used mana guns instead—but none of the existing mana guns were that thick or long, so that option was ruled out too.
"Did you perhaps make your personal weapon something like a self-defense warhammer...?"
Sometimes those crazy ability-user hopefuls make ridiculously oversized greatswords or electric chainsaws and call them personal weapons. Is Plea chasing that kind of 'romance' too...?
With a hint of anxiety, Dana asked if she could see the personal weapon. It might have been rude depending on the situation, but I didn't really mind, so I nodded.
Ziiiip—
I pulled the zipper on the leather case. It opened, revealing the first of the personal weapons I'd requested from the director, radiating its brilliant presence.
"Plea? What in the world is this?!"
"What do you mean? It's my personal weapon."
Dana looked stunned, as if wondering whether I was really planning to use this as a personal weapon. Then she tilted her head, apparently deciding that since I said so, there must be some possibility after all.
Watching her fall into complete confusion, I couldn't stop the laughter bubbling out of me.
Ah, the director had almost the exact same reaction...
Seeing Dana show a reaction that was practically identical to the director's made me laugh for no reason. Even I had to admit there was no personal weapon as convenient to use as this one.