novelA World Where the Flamboyant Die >> Covert Operation in the Transylvania District (2)
| ← Ch.140 | Ch.142 → |
"We are acting on the pretext of retrieving the idiot who fled our base, " explained Frolaytia in his earphone."A runaway soldier shames a military unit, so we would never want to ask for help searching for one. And it becomes an international incident if they have crossed to another world power's territory. We could not possibly make a request then."
"That doesn't make it okay to send a fully-armed assassination squad across the border to walk around the back alleys."
"But it's good enough." She did not seem to care at all."Object or not, the south will face a great many trials once they declare independence. For example, diplomacy. The Transylvania District's connections will be off limits to them. But what if they gained a supporter early on? It wouldn't hurt them to learn of some unrelated country's mistake or scandal, right?"
"I didn't realize I was getting involved in such a dirty job."
"Those dirty jobs are what maintain peace. There are times when the powerful would rather do nothing but have to take action to keep up appearances because they cannot control the public video sites and pirate broadcasts that Heivia mentioned in the conference room. But this is different."
"Is it about deception and camouflage again?"
"Exactly. If they have any sense at all, they will overlook this. They will let you and Heivia's team go free. Pressure from exchange rates and tariffs and embargoes on food and fuel are all ways of using money to crush a new country with little productive power. The south will be familiar with those cases, so they will want to preserve any secret connections they can set up with the Legitimacy Kingdom."
This was especially cruel because, even if they turned a blind eye to Quenser and Heivia, those potatoes did not have the authority the south would want. In fact, they were here to take away the south's greatest trump card. Quenser could not help but feel bad for tricking them like that.
"Don't relax based on what she says, Quenser, " said his awful friend."Everything she said assumes the south will act rationally. They're about to declare independence remember? They're at their highest moment. If they're high on adrenaline while shouting nonsense about autonomy and sovereignty, they might just follow their emotions and gang up on us without considering the consequences. So be on your guard. We know from experience just how bad a day you have when you rest your hopes on that busty commander's predictions."
"So there's no such thing as safety around here, huh?"
"This is enemy territory. Now get moving, turkey."
With Heivia, Myonri, and the others pushing him forward, Quenser ran through the old fortress streets with stone paving and distinctive orange roofs while surrounded by curving fortress walls and wild mountain slopes.
The old city was built along the base and slope of the mountain, so its stone walls and sloping roads formed something like a tiered field. But instead of crops, spires and chimneys stuck up and the people were all gathered inside stone and brick apartments. More and more walls had been built over time like the rings of a tree, so the inside was somewhat labyrinthine.
It felt like the solid city was clinging to the ground amidst the dark mountains forests surrounding it. It did not look like a kind place for moving companies and online stores.
"We're just talking about one province, right? Do we have any guesses where the reactor is?"
"That southern city is almost entirely registered as a world heritage site. What you see on the mountain slope is just the tip of the iceberg. The underground is riddled with wine cellars, catacombs, and secret torture chambers."
"Ugh."
"Post-independence, 80% of their income will be reliant on tourism. They wouldn't want to destroy their old fortress area to hide the Object."
That explained why the roads were still paved with bumpy stone despite the trouble that caused for cars. Quenser pulled a free pamphlet from a stand that functioned as a visitor's center.
"Hm, looks like the higher up on the mountain you are, the higher up in the hierarchy you are. Sounds inconvenient. I guess it's just like high-rise apartments. Or how they say idiots like to climb as high as possible."
"The very top will be covered in clouds depending on the weather, so I imagine it's more about gravity than the view. Both rainwater and sewage flow down through the pipes."
"Can you see anything with the satellite?"
"At the very least, there is no sign of a 50m machine."
"Then is it underground? But it must not be directly below this old fortress."
A crumbling wall was decorated with a banner saying "History Changes Tonight at Midnight!" Mobile homes were lined up on the side of the road, so all the hotels remodeled from old castles and monasteries must have been full. A digital countdown was running on an electronic sign decorated with Halloween-like bat characters. To Quenser, it looked like a giant time bomb. To go with the vampire motif, the small child passing by with her mother was holding a bat-shaped balloon. Quenser walked past them while marking the pamphlet's map with a red pen.
"Frolaytia, have they bought a ton of bricks in the past few years? They could have claimed it was for a pizza oven, a kiln, or whatever else, but I mean bricks that use alumina."
"A young wife with too much time on her hands gambled on a large quantity of futures. She lost a ton of money, but she didn't complain much on social media. Her posts don't sound like someone who ran across an unexpected accident of that magnitude. Could this be it?"
"Those are used in blast furnaces too. Bricks with alumina for heat resistance have a higher melting point than iron, so they're perfect for lining the buckets to carry molten metal."
Quenser always grew loquacious when it came to topics like this. Frolaytia's fish story may not have been as implausible as it might seem. Even if the human race threw out their weapons and advocated love and peace, this boy would still be chasing after Objects with a sparkle in his eyes.
"Frolaytia, given your obsession with the Island Nation, I'm sure you've heard of their giant Buddha statues. Those bronze statues can be several dozen meters tall, but they weren't built up with nuts and bolts from the bottom up. They started by making a giant mold out of earth and bricks and then poured molten metal inside."
"Are you saying the same could be done with an Object?"
"It isn't that simple since the onion armor requires a bunch of thin layers of armor, but they can use the general concept. The people here have a long history of building underground rooms. They could have built a framework and scaffolding like they were digging a mine and then used the entire mountain as a giant womb. And of course, they would make sure to select a silhouette-obscuring wedding dress to hide the pregnancy necessitating the marriage."
When red-banded sand wasps captured a caterpillar, they would take it back to their nest alive and lay eggs in its body. Once the larvae hatched, they would grow while gradually consuming the host's soft body from within. This Object was similar. Instead of creating a single giant space all at once, they had dug into the mountain bit by bit and then gradually carried in and assembled the metal armor and mechanical parts until they had an entire colossal weapon underground. It had been waiting all this time to break through the mountain surface and emerge, almost like it had consumed the mountain from within to grow its metal body.
It sucked the mountain dry.
Like a blood sucker.
"..."
Quenser placed a finger on the pamphlet map and then looked to the mountain slope a short distance away.
"Frolaytia, check Moldoveanu Peak. The info on the pamphlet doesn't match what I'm seeing. There are a few extra monasteries."
"Based on the database of a local university, there was a risk of acid rain eroding the limestone slope, so all of the valuable buildings were moved and evacuated to safe locations."
"And were those the world heritage sites you mentioned, or everything else that could be wrapped up in packing material?"
"..."
"It's camouflage. Unless this is an elaborate trap, that mountain must be the womb. It's like using leafy branches to hide a tank in the grass."
"I can't believe it. Even if they missed out on being world heritage sites, that monastery has a history four centuries long."
"When you're at risk from an aerial bombing, you'll break off a thousand-year-old cedar's branches to hide your tank. Your life is on the line after all."
The completed Object could not be removed without breaking through the frame of dirt and sand. It was like a piggy bank in that sense. The southern tourist area was not joking around.
"What should I do?" asked Quenser.
"You don't need to head inside. Just wander around near the monastery in question. Heivia and the others can search inside on the pretext of pursuing you. They can 'happen across' anything they discover."
With a sound much like an electric razor, a drone arrived overhead. The delivery box it gave him contained extra equipment, including glasses for blocking the facial recognition of security cameras. Then he walked against the flow of tourists to make his way across the stone pavement, through the fortress walls, and up the mountain slope.
On the way, he passed by some high school girls who wore submachineguns over their shoulders. The wood stocks had a very Eastern European feel and they folded up like a wire hanger. The girls wore what must have been the uniform to their school: a vampirish bat-patterned black cape worn over a blazer. Their legs were bare even in November. It looked like he might be able to blend in here better than somewhere full of camouflage uniforms. But as courageous as the girls might look, their weapons showed no sign of local production. They all had different caliber guns from different companies and different sling belts.
"Do they have a draft system or universal conscription here?" asked Quenser.
"The suggested new constitution they've released online says their military will be entirely voluntary, " answered Frolaytia."Although that volunteer service might come with certain advantages."
"If they make it so you can't enter higher education, get a job, or get married without serving, then is it really any different from conscription?"
There was also a nervous-looking glasses girl holding the leashes of a bunch of Dobermans, but it was unclear if she was taking them for a walk or if they were dragging her around. Was she from the school's animal care committee? Quenser was honestly more afraid of them than the drones made of lightweight materials. Their drool-covered teeth were quite intimidating.
Quenser kept his pace unchanged and continued his casual stroll.
"On-site team, I've arrived at the suspicious part of the slope. I'm going to ignore the monastery that was clearly added only recently. I just walked past it, but there is a truck parked unnaturally alongside a cliff here. I bet it's covering the manhole used as an entrance, but I'm not a legendary ninja. I doubt I could move the truck and get inside without anyone noticing."
"Leave it to us. We just needed to know where to check, so you go search elsewhere. Pretend you're lost and sneak right into their bedroom."
In order to help out Heivia's group, Quenser dropped an SD card with wireless LAN support and kicked it underneath the truck. It would be unnatural for them to search there for no reason, so they would want some kind of hint or excuse to use as justification.
"Agh!"
A high school girl on the slope groaned, but Quenser did not want to stand out by turning his head to look. Someone from Heivia's team had likely snuck up behind her and eliminated the obstacle before heading underground through a vent or whatever they had found. It was not often in life that you got a chance to sneak up behind and knock out a miniskirt high school girl instead of some filthy old guy, so the potatoes may have been more motivated than usual. Quenser walked away with an oblivious look on his face and the free pamphlet in hand.
He knew more or less where to go.
He stopped to think at about 50m from the first point. After climbing some stone steps to reach a higher level of the slope, he took out some of the "evidence" he had gotten from the drone – an electronic dictionary, a translation device, and other electronics with just enough personal information to make them a security risk – and dropped them in the ditches and manholes. Heivia's team had already made their way into the secret area to begin their sabotage, but it was best to give them as many openings as possible.
Then Frolaytia contacted him.
"Quenser, wait just a second."
"Am I leaving too much evidence? Sorry, I wasn't sure how much was best."
"Not that. We've lost contact with Heivia's team."
At first, Quenser was unsure what she meant. But this did not seem to be a metaphor or a joke.
"We have no idea if they're even still alive. This is entirely unexpected and the satellites and drones can't tell what's happening inside there. Be on your guard, Quenser. You are alone out there!"
"The enemy took them out? But we're talking about people who could only just barely manage to gather the parts of an Object using their excessive wealth. The soldiers I saw were normal high school girls. They were wearing vampire cape cosplay! I'm not about to claim we're the world's best special forces or anything, but I seriously doubt we would lose to them!!"
"At the moment, we can't rule anything out. Maybe this is only technical trouble and maybe the south hired a PMC to strengthen their forces. But we need to prepare for the worst, so take a weapon from the drone, Quenser. You need to ensure your own safety first! Don't die on us before reinforcements can arrive!!"
Part 7
The situation had changed.
With his anti-facial-recognition glasses on, Quenser used the body of a car parked on the curb and the show window of a musical instrument store to get a look behind him without turning around. He desperately tried to gather information as naturally as he could as a way to keep the anxiety from crushing him. He was in enemy territory. This was the Information Alliance. Running around screaming wasn't going to help.
He passed by a drunk with a balloon tied around his head like a headband. Since this was a vampire tourist location, the food carts all sold mystery foods like garlic-free peperoncino or garlic rice sans garlic.
Everything looked like a threat at the moment.
He met up with the drone in a deserted area.
The package it delivered also contained a knife and handgun, but Quenser only took the Hand Axe plastic explosive and electric fuses he was familiar with. If he tried using a gun or blade, he could easily shoot or stab himself in the thigh if he tripped.
It was already evening.
The sun set early in November. The loneliness crept up on him along with the chill.
Nothing he did would rid him of the same sense of despair felt by a small child left behind at a tourist location. Any further attempt would be like a person with OCD endlessly washing their hands.
Heivia and the others skilled in normal combat had vanished all at once. Even if a spirit of justice awoke within Quenser, entering that secret area alone was not an option. Any rash actions would only add another name to the list of victims.
But if he turned tail and fled, the countdown would end at midnight and tens of thousands of civilians, if not more, would be transformed into lumps of flesh and blood.
"Still no response from Heivia, Myonri, or the others, " reported Frolaytia.
"..."
So he could only stay where he was.
He gathered the same useless courage as someone standing tall in an open field when a sniper was lurking somewhere.
"This is Monica, the idol reporter who can both dance and kill! I'll be bringing you the latest news from the southern tourist area in a vampire costume made from a black cape and bat bikini!! Just six hours to go until they declare independence. If you think of it like a nice round pizza, this cuts it neatly in half. Make sure to tune into cable channel 2929 for this historic moment!"
Six hours to go.
After coming this far, it seemed unlikely the south would let go of their reactor and not place that gem in their otherwise empty jewelry box. They would want to use their Object to deter the Transylvania District and to impress the reporters from around the world gathered at the ceremony. The disappearance of Heivia's team had not changed things. It best to assume the 3D puzzle was already complete.
The Legitimacy Kingdom would only get one more shot at stopping this master plan.
And with Heivia's team defeated, it was unlikely a rushed attempt would accomplish anything.
"Quenser."
"Yes?"
"We're using the satellite to check the exact coordinates where Heivia's team disappeared, but multiple sources would be best. Tell us the location based on your observations. That will help us make the final decision."
"Is there anything left we can do?"
"What we most need to avoid is a direct clash between the Objects of the Transylvania District and the southern tourist area and a chain reaction spreading the flames of war to other safe countries. We need to assume that will lead to millions upon millions of civilian deaths."
"Um, meaning?"
"If it comes to it, we will have the Princess fire."
That hit him in the chest.
Hearing it was like having a stake driven into his heart.
"The south's Object is in the mountain, right?" continued Frolaytia."We can use the location where Heivia's team disappeared to judge where the chrysalis is located. As long as the two Objects don't directly fight, we can avoid that worst-case scenario. If we make a preemptive strike, the south's Object can't dodge since it's hidden in the mountain."
"Wait just a second. Wait!"
Pointing out that Heivia and Myonri were in there would not stop Frolaytia. Saying you would never abandon your fellow soldiers was lovely, but it made no sense to sit back and let millions of civilians be engulfed in flames because you were waiting for some subordinates who might very well be dead already. He knew that. He understood it.
But was it really over?
Could they only act on the assumption that their missing comrades were dead?
He needed something.
He needed some way of arguing back.
"Oh, I know. Officially, no one knows there's an Object in the mountain. So no matter what our goal is, the Princess would be using an Object main cannon to attack an enemy safe country, right!? That would start a war!"
"But that would be one of the clean wars contained to the battlefield countries. It would do a lot less damage than the chaos that would burn through so many safe countries if we let this continue as is."
"The Princess would be executed for treason!!"
"Don't worry, Quenser. Everything we say is being recorded, so if the bored masses demand a dead body, it would be me, the rogue commander, on the gallows. I'll make sure of it."
"That's not what I meant! We need to sit here and think up a way of saving everyone: you, the Princess, and Heivia's missing team!!"
What would they do?
What could they do!?
With the anti-facial-recognition glasses on, Quenser came to a stop, bit his thumbnail, and racked his brains. He did not have it in him to act all clever at the moment. He had to be standing out from the crowd to a comical degree.
He gave up on immediately coming up with an answer. He could go with the process of elimination. He started ruling out every option that was entirely out of the question in order to approach the right answer, much like chipping away the stone to find the sculpture within.
Doing nothing and letting the Transylvania District and the southern tourist area clash was not an option.
That clash might be avoidable if they could get word of the threat to the Transylvania District, but they had no way of doing so.
Even if he disguised it as a leak of military secrets through a pirate broadcast or video site, the Black Uniforms would see through it and he would be charged with treason.
Now that contact with Heivia, Myonri, and the rest had been lost, there was almost no chance of finding and destroying the reactor before it was installed in the Object. They had to assume the south's Object was complete.
They could end this by locating the Object before it left the mountain and having the Princess fire a main cannon at the slope.
But then the Princess or Frolaytia would be criticized by the ignorant international society and ultimately shot for treason.
"..."
He honestly found himself ruling out every option that came to mind. But that did not mean he was stuck. Instead, it meant he had chipped away so much of the stone that he had nearly completed the sculpture of the butt-naked young man.
Yes.
That was right.
Quenser placed his hand on the window of a privately run electronics store which had TVs of varying sizes on display and he stared at his own face with the anti-facial-recognition glasses on.
"Reinforced glass, huh? Even if it doesn't use a film, it could use a wire mesh."
"Quenser?"
"A swing of my fist could shatter the window, but if I slowly press my palm against it, the glass can support my weight without breaking. A hierarchy based on gravity. That Object is a red-banded sand wasp larva. It fattened up to 200, 000 tons while gradually consuming the mountain. Camouflage. To avoid detection by satellite or drone. But since it's in the mountain, it can't move like it might want to."
Would it work?
There was hope.
But he needed more concrete proof. He wanted as accurate a map of the southern tourist area as he could get. He would also need to calculate out the necessary amount of materials, the placement, and the weight distribution.
He was lucky he still had a connection to Frolaytia. If had been truly alone in enemy territory, he really would have been without options.
"Frolaytia, can you connect me to the electronic simulation division? And tell material management to get ready for some work. Yes, the ones who construct the mobile maintenance base zone!!"
Part 8
Happy Tepes!! It is now 10 PM!
I'm here in the mountains of the southern tourist area where excitement is building in advance of their declaration of independence. The area is known for its fog, but that apparently really only happens in the early morning. Look how clear the fireworks are in the sky!! Black cape flap flap!!
Fireworks decorated the night sky with red, green, and other colored lights that reflected brightly off the walls of the old castles and monasteries on the mountain slope.
The time limit was only 2 hours away.
The world would not end the instant that time limit ran out, but the die would already have been cast. There would be no turning back at that point. No one could guarantee the south's success. In fact, they might be entirely wrong and fail miserably. But despite those anxieties, they could only charge full speed ahead at this point.
(The 'insertion' was successful, but it stinks a lot worse than I expected. )
A faint smell like burning rubber and the chill of November had arrived at the mountain fortress city. Quenser could see his breath as he felt impatient. Fortunately, the children with their parents were carrying vampire balloons and the drunks had a long, skinny balloon wrapped around their heads like a headband. It would help if the newly arrived Legitimacy Kingdom potatoes would notice that and sabotage a balloon seller to give another reason for the smell.
He was on the mountain slope.
A small hand grabbed Quenser's while he weaved through the crowd of people in a circular plaza surrounded by fortress walls. It was one of the new potatoes. Without looking in that direction, he glanced down at the note he had been given.
(Still no word from Heivia's team. )
Quenser, who was still wearing the anti-facial-recognition glasses, was honestly worried about what had happened to those idiots. Was it simple concern for his friends? That was definitely part of it, but it was not all that pure. This was enemy territory and he could easily be next. He wanted to believe nothing bad had happened to them.
Colorful fireworks burst overhead.
He could feel the tremor of stadium-like cheers. They reached him from ahead and behind like waves and they really did shake the mountain slope and the city's fortress walls. The large live-viewing monitor set up in the plaza had changed channels to show a variety show with a battlefield idol reporter. It was being broadcast from some old castle or monastery and it showed a stone balcony carrying a speaking podium and an old man.
"Frolaytia, the ceremony has begun."
"We can see it on the online video. And I have some bad news. The satellite caught plenty of maintenance soldiers leaving from a disguised entrance on that mountain slope. Did you call the Object a red-banded sand wasp larva? Well, all of the tunnels should cave in once it leaves, so we should assume they are evacuating before that happens."
"They're already preparing to act? But their declaration of independence isn't for another 2 hours."
"They might be jumping the gun because they're so eager to get going. Damn that southern old man. He's nothing but toxic masculinity in a suit. I bet he wanted to give his speech while showing off the Object that symbolizes their power."
"So he's an exhibitionist with delusions of virility? We need to expedite our schedule before he opens his coat and pulls out his tiny you-know-what."
"Yes. It looks like they might clash with the Transylvanian Object before midnight. Quenser, how are things on your end?"
"The insertion is complete, but it will take time to stabilize. We only have one chance at this, so failure isn't an option. We should wait an hour to give it plenty of time."
"Then buy the necessary time. Do whatever it takes. Formal ceremonies are accident prone, so find some way of drawing out the principal's boring speech to fit our timetable!"
(Are you kidding me with this!?)
Quenser cut in front of a security camera since he wore the anti-facial-recognition glasses, joined the new Legitimacy Kingdom potatoes blending into the crowd, and made his way to the site of the speech. After smiling and speaking to some cheerful men unsteadily holding mugs of a local beer colored oddly red (likely due to being mixed with blood orange or tomato juice), he easily learned the speech was being held at a luxury hotel made from an old monastery. The men with balloons around their heads like headbands did not seem to find his question suspicious.
One of the new potatoes, the busty young woman who had operated the heavy machinegun in the armored vehicle, tilted her head.
"That would be the Weinrichius Monastery."
"Isn't that the vampire known as the Shoemaker of Breslau who the city council took official measures against long ago? Why would they name a monastery after him?"
"Probably because this region is known for an even more famous count. I mean, everyone's dressed in costumes when it isn't even Halloween and the souvenir shops are all selling bats and coffins and things like that."
They had no time to spare. While hurrying to the monastery in question, Quenser and the others held a quick strategy meeting.
"If the hotel was made by remodeling an old castle or monastery, it can't have many rooms. Every room will essentially be a suite, " said the young woman."And with the ceremony occurring there, I imagine the entire building will be rented out to keep normal people away."
"So you think it won't be easy to get in? You should work at gathering some more information before jumping to conclusions."
"?"
"It's being televised. Your strictly-guarded ceremony is meaningless as a press conference if you don't let any cameras in. In the crowd shots earlier, I even saw a Legitimacy Kingdom press team. Let's sneak up behind them and swipe their IDs."
"Understood. We can handle the dirty work."
The busty young woman who had dealt with the armored vehicle before was apparently the carnivorous type.
They worked out the frequency the target press team was using to relay their signal, used some pinpoint targeted jamming, and snuck up behind the staff members that came running tearfully out to their broadcast equipment to see what the problem was. The one knocked out by the busty young woman had a smile on his face since she had pressed against his back to strangle him.
"Huh? That discount battlefield idol reporter is here. A vampire costume? A bat bikini on a November night? Even with insulating gel, that's impressive.... Now I wish I'd gotten her autograph."
"Monica's here? Why does that childhood friend have to be here? She'll crush my balls if she notices me."
Quenser was nervous, but they used plastic tape and zip ties to tie the TV crew's hands behind their backs and checked through their possessions to borrow their film equipment and professional makeup. You never knew what would come in handy down the line. And those possessions of course included the ID cards they had originally wanted.
"Say cheese, " said Quenser.
"Phones sure are handy, " commented the young woman.
"C'mon, don't cover your eyes with one hand give a peace sign with the other. This is supposed to be an ID photo!"
They received a portable card printer from a drone's delivery box. All they had to do was cut out the photo with a knife and paste in their own photo and data. They also borrowed the staff jackets just to be sure. They disassembled their guns and stuck them in the duralumin camera cases. But in the cushioning on the sides instead of the normal storage space.
With their cards hanging from their necks, the new potatoes walked right on into the luxury hotel made from Weinrichius Monastery.
They were immediately surrounded by the gentle air presumably created by a fireplace.
"They aren't even doing an X-ray scan of our bags. How careless."
"They assume our backgrounds were checked when we entered the country. And even in this age of digital cameras, a lot of professionals still use strange kinds of film."
Quenser had expected a monastery to be all patchwork robes and pea soup seasoned only with salt, but he instead found red carpet, giant chandeliers, mysterious oil paintings in pure gold frames, marble statues of naked men and women in an embrace, and beautiful maids pushing around wagons carrying bottles of vintage wine and various foods cooked in a garlic-free al ajillo style. (Do not point out that this is nothing more than soaking the food in olive oil. It's part of their culture!) It was apparently an age of excess even in the monasteries.
It was about 20 past 10 at night. The old man was so excited at having everyone's eyes on him he was about ready to blow his load early, so who could say when his precious Object would break out through the mountainside.
"Let's interrupt that old man who might as well be a pervert out on the streets in a trench coat. This is all over once he gets carried away and flashes his Object."
"Fine, but we can't just go in guns blazing."
"We only have to get his tiny you-know-what soft, so avoiding a serious incident would be best. Let's cause some kind of trouble or accident while keeping things peaceful."
"Such as?"
"Prepare a prepaid phone with no private information on it."
Quenser stopped in front of a map of the building on a hallway wall. His anti-facial-recognition glasses did not have prescription lenses, so he could read it just fine. The old man was giving his speech from a balcony on the third floor, but the boy pointed to the floor below that.
"All of the press will have their phones on silent during such an important speech. But the balcony sticks outside and there are no walls, so sounds from the other floors will reach him there. Let's set off a ringtone at max volume to ruin his speech. And if we play a bunch of words you can't say on TV, he's done for. The broadcast will be cut off. He'll have to postpone his greeting until they find the out-of-season cicada."
"I'm praying you will learn to grow up someday, " said the young woman."Okay, let's download as filthy and dirty a song as we can find. Something you could never play in the family living room."
"Yeah, the more obscene the better. Like Lady Sprinkler."
"Don't you dare speak ill of LS in my presence!! Those lyrics are perfectly calculated out based on the principles of Satanism in a complex and high-level approach to finding the universal beauty in the destructive and the ugly!!"
You found fans of the weirdest things sometimes. She had also reacted positively to Monica's vampire costume, so she may have been the type who enjoyed wearing black roses, silver crosses, and plenty of frills and lace. She just about sent Quenser to heaven as she strangled him with both hands, but he was actually kind of into it.
That was when they received a radio signal. He focused on his earphone, assuming it was from Frolaytia, but it was not.
It was a very staticky signal, but he did manage to hear a male voice over the sandstorm.
"... need help... captur... tell you our location... rescue team..."
He felt like someone had directly squeezed his heart.
But when the busty young woman started to respond, Quenser quickly stopped her.
"Wait, wait! Send out a signal and you'll give away our position. They would definitely question a signal coming from within the monastery hotel and everything would fall apart!"
"Those are our comrades! Heivia was asking for help! The radio signal had the appropriate identifier."
"Heivia's team was lost and it seems likely they were either captured or killed."
"And that's why we have to help them ASAP!"
"No matter what happened, it's almost guaranteed they had their equipment taken!"
Quenser and the young woman glared at each other.
They had been placed in a very dangerous situation without warning.
"That transmission didn't mention any names, units, or ranks! It tried to sound legit, but there wasn't really anything there! They were afraid any details would give them away!"
Of course, neither of them had any solid proof that would hold up in court.
This was enemy territory.
They could not gather any real evidence, so they could only base their arguments on speculation.
"If that was really them asking for help, you're telling us to ignore our allies' screams."
"And if it was an enemy act, we'll be turning our backs on the many safe countries we could have saved from the flames of war. Our names will go down in history as utter scum."
"..."
"If that happens, millions of civilians will be crushed and blown to bits by stray Object shots. Those shells will kill babies and the elderly alike, even if they take shelter in schools or hospitals. Is that what you want?"
"~ ~ ~!!"
"We have no time whether we head back to save Heivia's team or continue on. That spirit of justice is fine and all, but you're in no position to just get angry and shove all responsibility for the choice onto me. You can't act like a prophet after it's all over and claim you knew what was going to happen. So tell me clearly right here and now: which will it be!?"
"Okay, fine!"
The young woman shouted as she cut off the screams coming from her earphone. They did not throw everything out despite a lack of evidence, shirtlessly grab a Gatling gun, and go on an emotionally driven rescue mission. That was what proved they were a proper military and not a rural gang of delinquents.
"You're going to lose friends like this, " she said.
"You really think giving into emotion and responding would be the considerate thing to do? Don't be ridiculous. Once the enemy learns this works, they'll escalate things just for fun. Do you really want to see a live feed of a torture show?"
"..."
"Did you think I hadn't thought this through? We only have one shot at this. People's lives are on the line, so we can't impulsively roll the dice early."
They climbed the stairs to the second floor. They wanted to be directly below the third-floor balcony where the old man was giving his speech. But just as they turned a corner to reach their target room, they quickly ducked back around the corner.
The young woman suddenly grew all cute and flustered.
"Why are the bodyguards ditching their jobs to have some, uh, quality time together? Now we can't get to the room. Do we have to wait until they're done making out!?"
"We have the TV crew's equipment, right? Someone get a camera ready."
"?"
"No one wants their adult 'quality time' revealed to the world. Especially when they're supposed to be working."
They showed no mercy.
The pen was mightier than the sword, so they drove the bodyguards away without firing a bullet. Once that was complete, Quenser and the others walked down the hallway once more.
"We can find the key in this floor's linen room. There should be a master key for cleaning."
They were finally inside.
Quenser cut across the empty suite to reach the balcony sticking out from the window. The chill of the November night immediately hit him. The balcony was large enough for a decent sized tea party, but he was focused on the next floor up.
"Yes, so we decided to gauge the will and passion of the south's chosen people via a public referendum. To build a better future for ourselves, we must declare our freedom and free ourselves from the bonds of the Transylvania District's methods."
Cameras flashed intermittently and the old man's microphone-amplified voice reached him. Was this a form of camouflage as well? Was he shifting blame away from himself and onto the referendum's result?
But from this position, the old man could hear Quenser if he spoke loudly. After confirming that proximity, he placed the prepaid smartphone in a gap of a planter filled with small flowers. It was a plausible location for a dropped phone, but it would also go unnoticed at first glance.
"It's in place. Time to make some noise."
"Hold on."
The busty young woman was checking on the hallway through the cracked-open door.
"There's a maid diligent enough to be cleaning rooms this late at night. We might be in trouble if she catches us leaving a supposedly vacant room."
"The phone is already playing the vulgar song. Someone will be by to look for it soon."
"LS is one of the greatest cultural products of the modern era, you pleb!! This is only the 2nd floor, so couldn't we jump down from the balcony?"
"No. They'd be sure to see us from above!"
Quenser held a hand to the side of his anti-facial-recognition glasses and hurried across the large room to reach the door. He and the young woman huddled together to check out in the hallway and he found she was right.
This was not a fake one squirting ketchup on some omurice. A maid with a standard long-skirt uniform was moving up and down the hallway. She seemed to be suspicious of something, so she may have found evidence of them breaking into the linen room.
"She's trying to buy time. I bet she's waiting for security."
"This really isn't good then."
The young woman's eyes grew dangerously sharp.
She was clearly wondering if they could eliminate just the one maid. But Quenser preferred kindness when it came to kittens in the rain, little match girls, and courageous maids, so he thought for a bit. He really did not want to see the fierce woman-on-woman battles that were fought every day in break rooms and locker rooms.
"So we just have to find a way to leave without worrying that maid, right?"
"?"
Quenser walked across the large room and opened the giant closet. This was a luxury hotel with a classic motif, but he found more than just silk gowns there.
After all, this luxury hotel had been remodeled from an old monastery. When it came to simple equipment, it could not hope to match an apartment made from modern materials. And the hotel existed partially for cultural preservation purposes because empty buildings fell into disrepair quickly. And why would people bother visiting a hotel deep in the mountains? Delicious food? To relax and forget all about the passage of time? No. The people who came here were paying all that money to enjoy noble pastimes. Quenser was from the Legitimacy Kingdom, so he knew exactly the kind of scummy desires were bred by those class differences.
He knew exactly what he would find there.
"I really shouldn't be doing this, but it looks like the day has come to break the seal and bring her back."
"Her?"
"I've got no choice. And if we're doing this, we need to do it right. It's time to get all dressed up with the ultimate camouflage."
Part 9
Quenser and the others could not turn invisible. Nor was there a secret rotating door in the wall or a blind spot in the hallway they could hide in.
And yet.
The diligent maid overlooked the new Legitimacy Kingdom potatoes. They were in view, but she did not see them. Even though she would have found it highly suspicious if anyone but hotel staff left a room that was supposed to be vacant.
So what had happened?
The answer was as follows:
They changed into the maid uniforms supplied in the closet.
That of course included the busty young woman.
But it also included Battlefield Student Quenser Barbotage (♂).
"Good evening."
He greeted the maid by grabbing his skirt in both hands and giving a polite curtsy. No one questioned glasses maid Quenser.
Yes.
It would look unnatural for anyone but a cleaning maid to be in a vacant room, so they only had to become internal staff. Instead of sneaking around, it was best to walk out like they belonged there.
The real maid did not doubt him for a second, so it was the young woman who whispered in disbelief.
"(Are you serious? Why do you look so at home in a maid uniform!?)"
"(Heh. I am Quensette, the legendary star of my safe country's local cultural festival. Although I'd sealed this away ever since Monica tearfully kicked my ass for stealing the spotlight from her when she was just getting started. )"
Adding a thick layer of makeup to the surface would not help. Creating a proper foundation underneath mattered more, so it was lucky they had acquired some professional makeup equipment after attacking Monica's group earlier.
This was not about the insulating gel that let the idol wear a black cape and a bat bikini during a November night.
Quenser did not have the subcutaneous fat of a girl, so the collagen gel helped prepare the skin which would act as a foundation for the makeup.
(But this means Monica is still using that same gel. She's upgrading to a more professional version, but it's the same brand. Is she still using the makeup technique I taught her way back when?)
... No one could ever be allowed to know that an idol like Monica had learned how to put on makeup from a boy!!
Only beginners used the chest, hips, and thighs to show off their femininity.
The nape was much more destructive.
Quenser had always been androgynous enough to look like a boy when wearing pants and a girl when wearing a skirt, but everyone was forced to consider the wonders of the human body when they saw that "transformation".
They heard some hurried footsteps. The men in black were likely the old man's bodyguards. They walked right past Quensette and the rest of the culprits and barged into the room where the phone was hidden.
"It worked."
"It's been about 10 minutes since the speech was interrupted, right? We need to buy another 30 minutes, but won't they find the phone almost immediately? I know you hid it in a planter, but it's making noise. You can't hide it like that."
"Knowing this works is enough. Next, we'll go one floor above the 3rd floor balcony. And to fix the flaw you mentioned, I want something they can't remove so easily. Yes, a rotten stench would work nicely. But something utterly ridiculous instead of something that might be a toxic gas. We can walk around the back of the hotel in this maid camouflage, so let's put something together using what we can find in the staff rooms and storage."
"Do you get bolder when you crossdress? Like someone whose personality changes when they get behind the wheel?"
He ignored her nonsense and got down to business.
"A hotel should have a powerful industrial acid detergent. We use the undiluted stuff as a base, add raw eggs and mayo, and maybe include some onion and garlic... well, if they have it. Add some alcohol even if it's only disinfectant. Crab and shrimp would be nice if you can find it, but the real secret ingredient can be either vinegar or Italian dressing."
"You sound like you're planning a meal, but some of the ingredients don't fit. What are you trying to make?"
"A powerful vomit smell."
"..."
"Stomach acid contains hydrochloric acid. Pure gastric juices don't actually stink very much; it's the food being dissolved that really makes an odor."
The young woman fell silent with her mouth forming a small triangle.
That was the proper reaction for a woman... no, for a human. There was something wrong with anyone who could discuss it with a straight face.
Let us discuss the school Quenser attended.
The professors there had made historic discoveries directly linked to Object development and they all fell under the category of "something wrong with them" because they would laugh their butts off while doing this kind of thing. If you forgot your homework, it was not unusual to be punished with an iron claw to the face using an extremely intimidating glove. Quenser remembered when the usually indomitable Monica had ended up in tears after receiving one of those. It was a bitter memory because he had been punished in the same way for trying to cover for her.
"Although it's a lot faster to run into the bathroom and shove a finger down your throat than to try to precisely reproduce it with chemicals in the lab, so you could say this is the world's most pointless field of research. But when building it up from scratch, you can adjust the concentration to your liking, so you can create a much more pungent odor than the real thing. Now, old man, how long can you preserve the serious atmosphere you've created?"
Part 10
Of course.
The old man on the podium knew some unseen person had infiltrated the hotel to ruin his time in the spotlight.
A biting chill ruled the November night.
So he could see the fireworks, he spoke from a balcony large enough to hold a tea party.
"For my next question, urp, I imagine the rivers flowing in from outside your borders – cough! Oh, excuse me – will be your primary water source after independence, but... ugh!!"
The press were forced into a constant battle with themselves. Smells were invisible, but their footage would not be fit for broadcast if they vomited. They had spent an absurd amount of money for their press passes, so they could not ruin it all by replacing their live broadcast with a "please wait a moment" graphic.
It was truly a trial.
The press's pride was being tested.
This is a rather vulgar topic, but while shit and piss are the usual examples used for odors, vomit was actually more "contagious". Few people would vomit the instant they set foot in a public bathroom, but it was easy to imagine other people following suit after someone used a barf bag on a closed bus or plane. Different smells affected the vomiting center of the brain differently.
With dangerous chloride gas or propane gas, they would probably have put on serious expressions, called off the press conference, and quickly evacuated.
But this was different.
Could they really call off a historic event because something smelled like puke? This was the south's independence, the first page of their new history, and their first national event, so how could they cancel it over something like that? It would forever remain in the public record!!
"(Where is that coming from? They are serving alcohol here. Someone didn't drink too much, did they?)"
"(This is an old hotel. Maybe a pipe in the wall burst. )"
There was no denying this was out of the ordinary.
But no one was willing to say anything about it. They were afraid of that wise old adage: whoever smelt it, dealt it.
"Calm down. Please calm down everyone."
The old man's low, deep voice was not enough to settle them down. It was looking more and more like anyone who tried to take the situation seriously would be seen as a fool.
His schedule was being delayed.
The more this was drawn out, the further he would fall behind. And the more delays, the more the damage would grow.
The old man knew what to do at times like this.
Namely...
(I must get things moving to reset their impression of me before this gets out of hand. )
"There are no more barriers standing in our way. Any problems we face have been transformed into mere hurdles which will only strengthen us as we overcome them. We have gained the power to grow. Just as a snowball grows as it rolls down the hill, there will be no stopping us now that we have picked up speed! Allow me to introduce you to the power we will use to take an equal position in international society. This is the Shield Machine 002!!"
Part 11
The maids stared in shock at the TV app on the smartphone they held sideways.
"The son of a bitch just blurted it all out there real quick!!"
"I don't think he's even stopping to breathe."
"It's 10:50. We have to find a way to stall for 10 more minutes!"
"But how can we interrupt now? We already used the 4th and 2nd floors located directly above and below the 3rd floor balcony!"
According to the intelligence division, the Object had a scorpion motif. It weakened the enemy with the two coilgun main cannons on either side, approached once the enemy had lost mobility, and then rotated 180 degrees. The circular shield machine on the end of the tail on its back would tear through the onion armor to finish them off. It was equipped with the bare minimum of anti-air lasers and such, but it was mostly just a hunk of steel. Quenser wanted a chance to see it to help learn about Object design, but he was not going to sacrifice the world for that chance.
Was there any gimmick he could use to interfere with the large room and balcony where the speech and press conference were being held?
"This declaration of independence is meant to state their intentions to the world. It's meaningless without any cameras."
"Then are you going to target the TV crews? But how!?"
In his anti-facial-recognition glasses, Quenser thought of all the vertical pipes he could think of: the water pipes, the sprinklers, the air ducts, the fiber optic cables, the power cables, and the chimneys. But...
"No, that won't do it. We would be cornering ourselves in a dead end."
"Quenser?"
"Since we've used up the 2nd and 4th floors, there's only one option left: the 3rd floor!"
"They'll notice if we go there now! Cameras from all around the world are focused there!"
"Then what about the next room over? I need a few of you to collect a few drones from the windows. Can you do that for me!?"
They would have been too conspicuous dressed as classic maids and carrying lightweight drones on their arms like hawks, so they stuffed them in translucent laundry bags and carried them around like that.
"Are you going to send some drones down to mess with the old man on the balcony?"
"Flying off with his toupee while the cameras roll would be pretty funny, but we don't have time to mess around. Just come with me."
The master key from the linen room apparently worked on every floor, so they had no trouble entering the room adjacent to the press conference.
"Frolaytia, check the list of press in attendance. Do any of them use a pacemaker or breathing device!?"
"They're all healthy. Why do you ask?"
"You'll see."
Quenser the Maid (whose anti-facial-recognition glasses were perhaps the least interesting part of his outfit) entered the room so none of the hotel workers could see him, placed the drones on the floor, disassembled them with a flathead screwdriver, and bound some of the internal parts together like honeycombs. Altogether, it was about the size of a tray.
The busty young woman tilted her head.
"The collision-avoidance microwave radars?"
"The event is ruined if the press can't broadcast it to the world. We don't have to pass through the walls or ceiling ourselves. And a centuries-old monastery won't use rebar. It isn't as flashy as an EMP, but it should be enough for the exposed electronics of civilian devices."
He pressed the honeycomb device against the wall with both hands and flipped the switch with his thumb.
"After all, microwaves are used in anti-electronic EM bombs."
The actual attack produced no light or sound detectible to their eyes or ears.
So the thunderous explosion of sparks they heard beyond the wall would have come from the press's cameras, digital recorders, and communication devices after the microwaves hit them.
"Did that do it!?"
"I can't tell, " said the young woman."The TV broadcast, online video, and official account have all gone silent!!"
"Then it worked. If none of them are getting an exclusive scoop here, then they were all wiped out. Either way, it's 11 at night. We bought enough time!"
A moment later, they felt a rumbling.
Not a single lightbulb survived in the adjacent room or the balcony. With all the communication devices out, the old man and his aides could not get their instructions to the Object on a different mountain.
But the go sign had been given beforehand.
Their Pilot Elite would be unsure what to do, but they would normally decide their orders stood until they heard otherwise. So they were starting to move despite their doubts.
The Object had grown fat while devouring the inside of the mountain like a red-banded sand wasp larva and it was preparing to break out. Even if that meant destroying a 400-year-old monastery and dumping dirt down on the city as if building the foundation of their new country.
The busty young woman grew pale.
"This is bad."
"No."
The new Legitimacy Kingdom potatoes, the old man who kept running into trouble, and the Pilot Elite, who was being pressed to decide whether or not to act, all felt fear and anxiety about the unpredictable future.
There was one exception.
Only Quenser Barbotage had a fearless smile on his face.
"It's past 11. That means checkmate."
There was definitely a muffled rumbling.
But that was all. The mountainside did not crumble, the city was not buried, and the 50m weapon did not appear.
Yes.
"It would be one thing if the Object had a running start, but right now the mountainside acts more like a straightjacket. And if it tries to blow some holes in that using its coilgun main cannons and laser beam secondary cannons, it should just blow itself up since the barrels are all plugged up."
He had bought the time needed.
He had wanted at least an hour to be sure.
That was the entire reason he and the others had been risking their lives moving back and forth through the monastery hotel.
This was the crux of the issue.
"With normal dirt, it could probably force its way through using its reactor and propulsion device. That's why I needed an extra trick. With the ditches, storm drains, manholes, and so on, there's a network of pipes running across the entire slope, so I poured in the filler material used when creating the maintenance base. That created something like the wire mesh used to reinforce windows."
He only had to reinforce the mountainside.
Then the Object could not break out. Its greatest weapon was the shield machine on its back, but not even that excavation device could use its full power while buried alive. And even if it could, he doubted it could bore a hole wide enough for the entire Object to pass through. And since it did not officially exist, it would vanish into the darkness if it never showed itself. If its public debut failed, it would never clash with the Transylvanian Object.
The south's path to independence was gone.
"Now for the finishing touch."
"Eh? Isn't the Object trapped in the mountain?"
"There's still an important job left."
He no longer needed to rely on the anti-facial-recognition glasses.
Quenser the Maid removed the unfamiliar glasses, threw open the large door, and walked into the chaotic press conference without worrying about camouflage or his footsteps.
The doors to the balcony were wide open, so the winter chill reached him.
He walked to the back of the dark room and shined a phone's LED lights on the large balcony.
The 100 members of the press?
He did not care about them at all. It did not matter how many there were when none of them had anything to record him with. They could witness the truth of the world here, but they could not leave with any objective proof.
"Hi, old man! I don't know your name and I don't care to find out. A legendary maid is here to say what must be said, so make sure your senile old brain is paying attention. A mistake here would destroy what history you do have here."
The bodyguards belatedly aimed their handguns Quenser's way, but he only scoffed and continued without putting his hands up.
"Are you sure you want to try that? Powerful EM waves do more than mess with electronics. They can also cause malfunctions in sensitive fuses and detonators. Do you want to see one of your precious bodyguards get a hand blown off by their own gun? Or a bullet could fly off course and blow out your brains. This hotel is made of solid stone, so are you sure you can calculate all the ricochets?"
"..."
"Was it a satellite weapon? Or a drone? Maybe a bomber? Did it come from above at all? Hell, it's possible this was the work of geomagnetism or volcanic activity."
It was okay for this to be a bluff.
It was already over. The old man and his bodyguards had no idea how much this EM attack could do. They were trapped in the darkness with no information, so they would grow paranoid all on their own. The greatest camouflage was not a pattern of colors or light; it was the activity of the human brain itself.
"I have one demand."
The southern tourist area, the global press, and the Legitimacy Kingdom maid potatoes, who had shown up a little late, were all taken aback as Quenser faced a definite goal.
Yes, he had needed to raise his own status to the point that he could make a demand.
"We will be taking back our kittens that wandered into your secret base, so we would like them returned immediately. If you say you can't, then you will regret that decision until the day you die."
The old man must have realized the many members of the press were of no use right now.
This had clearly become a negotiation between just two people.
"What if I told you they were already dead?"
Quenser casually tossed a plastic explosive toward one of the bodyguards. It did not have an electric fuse, but it was enough for the tough-looking man in black to panic and fall onto his ass.
"The next one will have a fuse, so let's cut the crap and actually negotiate. If you try anything, I just have to blow you up and try again with your #2."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Do you think your life has infinite value or something? To me, you're nothing but one possible contact point. If you aren't working, I'll swap you out for another." Quenser showed no mercy."Also, I'll be telling the Transylvania District that the south secretly built an Object to slaughter them and their people, but ultimately failed. But I'll make sure to mention that your foolish desire for mass murder remains. I doubt they'll show any mercy after hearing that. They'll make me seem downright friendly. Now, do you really think you can survive that without an Object?"
"..."
"Think carefully and either nod or shake your head. If you make the right choice, this legendary maid will tell the Transylvania District a very different story. We are from the Legitimacy Kingdom, but we don't want to see the unilateral slaughter of civilians in an Information Alliance safe country. If that is what they try to do, then we will have a humanitarian reason to view the Transylvania District as a battlefield country and we will destroy their Object and all of their major military facilities. So which will it be?"
"What makes you think I have to choose?"
"Is that how you see it? You can try to act tough if you like, but the Transylvania District will act at midnight no matter what happens here. Let's hope you can come up with some kind of miracle plan before then. Now, if you want our help, you need to release all of the kittens you captured. If even one is missing, I'll wrap a bomb around your neck and move on to your #2. So which will it be: yes or no?"
Part 12
And so he had a tearful reunion with his awful friend once they had both returned to the mobile base zone.
Quenser yawned while back in his usual military uniform.
"So where were you while we did all the work? It seems unlikely they had the help of some mysterious foreign mercenary unit that took you out in a flash."
"They blew up the tunnel and buried us alive. It was like a mineshaft, so we were too deep in the mountain for our transmissions to get out."
That was what had happened.
It had seemed unlikely the southern tourist area had any proper army when they had cosplay schoolgirls out on patrol, so when Heivia's team of potatoes had suddenly been lost without a single scream or SOS signal, there had really only been one option: a surprise attack that cut off their communications.
In the end, that had been another form of camouflage for the south. They had wanted to keep out any unseen intruders by hinting at the presence of some highly-trained assassin squad. Although the phony call for help with the proper ID signal suggested they might have a competent hacker.
Yes.
That was supposed to be the whole story. But was it?
"There's one thing I don't get."
"Yeah."
If the south had really been complete amateurs in military matters, how had they managed to build an entire Object?
And how had they acquired a Pilot Elite who required a high-level and complex training program? Elites could not be mass-produced. They were a unique element that had to be created alongside the Object built exclusively for them.
"Someone supplied them with what they needed. Someone who was targeting them for their immense wealth."
Someone had provided them weapons at a high price.
The assault rifles and landmines were one thing, but this included a colossal Object and a Pilot Elite.
Whoever that was would likely be the potatoes' next enemy.
"A weapons dealer."
Between the Lines 1
See, what did I tell you?
It didn't work.
It's true this is the golden age of Objects. You can't do business while ignoring that fact. However. A 50m and 200, 000-ton mass isn't going to go unnoticed. There are too many watchful eyes. And our clients don't want to stand out. Because they don't want international society to gang up on them. The supply and the demand are both off base here. There's no point in even criticizing the marketing. The entire business model is a failure.
It costs 5 billion dollars to build a single Object and it takes years to reach completion, so if it's discovered midway and international society puts a stop to it, our precious clients will be obliterated before they can pay us. You get that, don't you? It's too risky!!
That's why I've always said that way won't work. And just because it's the age of Objects doesn't mean we have to build a whole damn Object.
We aren't a world power with tons of backers. But that's also why we're free to do things they can't.
We shouldn't let our situation restrict us.
Motivation is crucial and thinking outside the box is the key to success. It's all about innovation, creativity, and... what other word was I looking for?
Well, the exact words don't matter.
Now, let's enjoy war!
I can start putting together the Parasite Plan now, right?
| ← Ch. 140 | Ch. 142 → |