Lesert Industries (1)
"What's the cat's name?"
"Blackie."
"Blackie… That's a cute name."
Inside the office tucked away in a remote alley, Sinel had returned somehow having negotiated her way into wearing Blackie perched atop her head, while I was on the phone with someone.
The person I was calling was, of course, Wilson.
I'd already finished drafting the full contract with the Sword Star, so now it was time to get her weapon repaired.
Lesert Industries was the city's premier military-industrial corporation. As a senior researcher there, Wilson ought to be able to help with the Sword Star's weapon to some degree. Even if he couldn't help directly, introducing me to someone who could shouldn't be too difficult.
"This is Wilson. What can I do for you?"
The dial tone cut out, and Wilson's voice came through the receiver. We'd spoken a few times before, but we weren't exactly in regular contact. To each other, our voices would still sound fairly unfamiliar.
Even so, figuring he still owed me something of a debt of gratitude, I offered a greeting.
"Percival Smith. It's been a while, Wilson Eldeer."
"Ah — my benefactor."
"Been doing well lately?"
"Thanks to you, yes. I've been wanting to repay you properly, so this is perfect timing. If you're free, perhaps dinner this time…"
"Dinner together would be fine. But recently a piece of equipment one of my colleagues had developed a minor problem."
A Spellholder was by no means minor equipment. Just acquiring one was a considerable challenge. I was making the proposal fully aware that a certain amount of money would have to change hands.
Wilson echoed my words back at me.
"An equipment-related problem?"
"As it happens, I know an expert in that field. If you don't mind, I'd like to get some help while we're meeting anyway."
"If it's something I can manage, of course I'll help."
Wilson agreed without hesitation. At his words, I laid out the matter at hand.
"If you help me out, dinner's on me. Do you know how to repair a Spellholder?"
"A Spellholder…"
"The Spellholder my colleague was using broke. It's a one-of-a-kind piece, so she insists it has to be fixed."
A thoughtful sound carried through the receiver. A brief silence. Whether he'd been lost in thought for a moment or simply sitting quiet, Wilson eventually spoke again.
"Well, it is a product line we handle on our end. I'm not the repair specialist, but I should be able to help to some extent."
"Good to hear."
"A Spellholder isn't the kind of thing you can just swap out easily. If it's something precious, I understand wanting to repair it all the more."
Fortunately, the problem seemed to be resolving itself without much trouble. With Wilson stepping in personally, it wouldn't take long to get things sorted — so long as sourcing the parts didn't become an issue.
"Let us know when you have time free, and we'll come to you."
"I'll contact you once I can use the necessary facilities. I'm glad I can help out even in a way like this."
"I appreciate it. I'll wait for your call."
I hung up right after that. The moment the line went dead, the Sword Star — who'd been watching Blackie nearby — turned and looked at me steadily. Those golden eyes glittered far too brightly right in front of my face. She was clearly curious how things had gone with her sword.
"A researcher affiliated with Lesert has agreed to help."
"Really? Lesert's going to help?"
"Not Lesert itself. The help is coming from the researcher as an individual."
"Still… if he works at Lesert, he'll fix it properly, right?"
Even knowing the future, I didn't have the power to move an entire mega-corporation at will. Getting help from Wilson alone was already fortunate enough. At the very least, he was nothing like the types who fleeced people for goods on the Black Market.
Now all that remained was waiting for Wilson's call.
Still mulling things over as I looked at the Sword Star, I reached toward the drawer beside me. With a soft rattle, I pulled open the desk drawer and found the black earpiece Sinel and I had bought at the department store. I took it out and held it out to the Sword Star.
"A gift, rookie."
"What is it?"
"Communications gear. Made by Lesert Industries."
"Thanks, boss… wait. What should I call you?"
She cut off her thanks and asked me instead. Calling me "boss" the way Sinel did apparently felt a little awkward. Given her whole persona, that wasn't surprising. I found myself wondering what she'd called people wherever she'd been before.
"What did you call Redel at the Cross Network?"
"I never called him anything."
"…Call me whatever you like."
"Got it, Percival."
"…"
She went straight for the first name. I'd never expected to be treated like a proper boss anyway. Mercenaries and bounty hunters — every last one of them lived however they pleased. That was just how things worked in this business.
"That is your name, right?"
"Do as you like."
The buildings of Lesert Industries were large and lavish. Across the sprawling grounds in District 3, every kind of Lesert facility stood in rows. Among that sea of structures was one in particular — and within it, a small room packed with complex equipment. That was where Wilson and I met.
Circumstances being what they were, neither the Sword Star nor Sinel had been allowed inside. Only Wilson and I were present.
"Is this the item you mentioned?"
Wilson asked as he faced the Sword Star's broken blade. With gloved hands, he carefully lifted the sword. Spellholders came in all sorts of forms — gloves, pistols, and more — but a sword-shaped Spellholder seemed to be a first even for him. The exterior looked as though someone had deliberately modified it for the Sword Star alone.
"Doesn't look like something you'd find for sale anywhere."
"I'll need to disassemble it first."
He examined the shattered blade and the short hilt beneath it, then pulled out his tools and began taking the hilt apart.
Click, click—
Clack.
As the disassembly progressed, the precision mechanisms hidden inside the sword gradually revealed themselves. Tiny components linked together in intricate webs. I had no idea how it would look to an expert, but to my eyes it made not the slightest bit of sense.
Once he'd fully separated the blade from the hilt with his tools, Wilson adjusted his glasses and studied the blade carefully.
"There's an engraving on the inside. Looks like ancient script."
"Some kind of meaningful incantation?"
"Just writing something down doesn't produce a magical effect. The 'Great Intellect' in District 1 might manage it, but otherwise…"
"I see. Can you read it?"
"That's outside my field. I'd need a translator for that."
Wilson pulled out his phone and entered the characters carved into the sword. Ancient script or not, they were simply old characters. With a network translator, they could be rendered into modern language without much trouble.
After finishing the translation, Wilson looked back and forth between his phone and the writing on the blade. As he read the translated text, his eyes went wide, and he turned to face me.
"What does it say?"
To my daughter Yuell.
Carrying the dreams you longed for —
From Bruno Litrier.
"…"
Hearing Wilson's words, I doubted my own ears. Until now I'd only ever heard stories about her grandfather. I'd never heard a word about the Sword Star's father. If the inscription was genuine, the situation had just become considerably more complicated.
The Sword Star. Her father had been a massacre artist of legendary notoriety.
"Bruno… Litrier…"
Limping Bruno. The symbol of terror that had shaken the entire city. And a 7th-circle mage still hiding somewhere in this city. A figure poised to drive the turbulent plot forward was deeply connected to one of my own people.
"Never thought I'd see that name here."
"Is your colleague Bruno's daughter?"
"…I don't know yet whether that's true. But can I ask one more favor?"
"I think I already know what it is."
A Spellholder made by Limping Bruno. If word of that got out, the Sword Star's position could become extremely complicated. In the original story, she met her death at someone's hands as the plot progressed. Now that she was my colleague, I had no intention of leaving her to that fate.
"I want the sword repaired as quietly as possible."
"It's a request from my benefactor. As far as today goes, I saw nothing."
Wilson nodded calmly. I'd leveraged Bruno's name before, but the weight that name carried was never light. The cane Bruno had used as a Spellholder had sold at auction for an enormous sum after his suppression. A monster who planted his cane in the ground for support and, standing perfectly still, cleaved everything around him in two. The people who held a grudge against him could fill a mountain.
"First, let's erase this inscription."