episode_0003

“How can you really perform surgery without anesthesia…?”

“Sorry, I didn’t get a permit to handle anesthetics.”

At Luna’s excuse – that she didn’t get a permit, which is easily obtainable with money, despite doing tech doctor work that extensively modifies human bodies – I staggered up from the blood-stained operating table and headed for the mirror.

It felt like my entire body had been ground up, but surprisingly, there was no difference in my appearance.

Except that the soft fat I’d accumulated from sitting at a corporate desk until I got hemorrhoids had turned firm, and my physique had grown a bit.

As I pulled at my skin and examined myself, Luna approached and draped a gown over me.

“I reinforced your entire body with reinforced fiber muscles using bioware and inserted a subcutaneous bulletproof layer. For your eyes, I put in artificial irises with a combat assistance program installed, upgrading your cyberdeck.”

“It doesn’t look as ‘cyberware-ish’ as the mercenaries I saw passing by.”

“Slathering on chrome like that is a mistake only amateurish guys make. Beginners think all chrome is good and try to cram it into their bodies.”

Luna ranted passionately that such guys were just putting on airs, and when the real deal arrived, even a truckload of military personnel would just be cut down.

“Why do you think bioware or concealed cyberware are expensive? Besides, unless you’re a mercenary operating at the highest levels, you’re vulnerable to decking and EMPs, and without additional shielding chrome, you have many weaknesses.”

“Damn it. If you’d just given me anesthesia, I might have thought you were knowledgeable and cool.”

“It doesn’t matter if no one thinks I’m cool, because I am knowledgeable and cool.”

It seemed I’d developed a slight trauma from the surgery. With hollow eyes, I examined various parts of my body, then sighed and sat down on a nearby table.

Since I already had the combat assistance program installed in my eyes, I activated it to see how things appeared with this cyberware.

It scanned the 3D space around me, identifying all objects that could pose a threat and displaying them with highlight lines. For human movements, like Luna’s, a form similar to a crash test dummy was overlaid for easier viewing.

From what I’d seen on the net, it even shows estimated impact points when you hold a gun.

“So, what do I have to do?”

“Oh. After all that whining, you’re finally willing? That’s good for me.”

“You’ve already embedded this crap in my body. I’ve endured all the pain, so it’s not like I can ask you to take it out again.”

“That’s what I intended.”

“You bitch…”

Still, I decided to look at it positively.

My body, which had been getting harder to move as I approached thirty, wasn’t perfectly fine, but at least it was easier to move.

“Follow me. Let’s go up and talk.”

As Luna climbed the perfectly good stairs, I wondered why my tailbone had to suffer if stairs existed, but it was clear she’d just laugh it off, so I didn’t bother asking.

I’m craving a cigarette.

We, who had just come up with Luna, faced each other again, one as the bartender, the other as a customer.

Except that I, in the role of the customer, was still only wearing a gown, dressed like an exhibitionist with nothing underneath.

I crunched on the cheese-burger flavored kibble she’d given me, smelling the potent synthetic whiskey.

Of course, the cheeseburger I knew didn’t taste like this, but most people probably ate this, calling it a cheeseburger, and enjoyed it.

“Giving me such expensive implants sounds like you’re going to work me until you get your money’s worth, which is terrifying.”

“I told you it was on credit. Of course, you have to pay it all back.”

“Damn it all.”

The speed at which debt piled upon debt was like a Harley Davidson slapping you in the face.

“Of course, I don’t plan to give a rookie like you a difficult job. And I told you I lead my own team, didn’t I?”

“You did. But you’re a Fixer, aren’t you?”

Mercenaries and Fixers had a relationship like gum stuck together; they were inseparable.

Mercenaries can’t get jobs without Fixers, and Fixers can’t just sit back and rake in sweet commissions without mercenaries.

However, the two professions required different skill sets, so almost no one did both.

“I’m a Fixer now. I retired from active mercenary work.”

“So you were a mercenary, and you’re a tech doctor *and* a Fixer? You’re quite the jack-of-all-trades.”

“How do you think I got these scars? And do you know how much hell I went through gathering contacts while I was active just to do Fixer work? Being a doctor is just basic stuff.”

Luna lifted her T-shirt and showed a large scar.

Actually, even without her showing it, part of it was visible through the stretched-out neck of her T-shirt, but I didn’t object to her deliberately showing it.

“Damn it. To think I’d get surgery performed by a nurse.”

By the way, it’s not going to disassemble later, is it?

“It’s just a simple procedure anyway, so it’s not that dangerous.”

Luna, this resident of this damn city, seemed unable to grasp that the very fact someone who only learned the basics was cutting into a human body was the problem.

Even if she made a slightly disappointed face, I could absolutely forgive her.

Isn’t there a saying that if you look at breasts for 10 minutes, your lifespan increases by 30 minutes?

My lifespan was shortened by undergoing surgery without anesthesia, so I just need to look at breasts to make up for it.

“So, the job for you is a simple delivery.”

“Delivery?”

“You just need to safely deliver this chipset to the client.”

Luna opened a drawer in the bar, took out a glowing red crystal chipset, and showed it to me.

“What kind of chipset is it?”

“A top-tier mercenary doesn’t meddle unnecessarily and just properly completes the request… But to tell you a bit more, this small chipset contains information that could overturn the political power struggle within the EPSB.”

“EPSB?”

Eclipse Point Security Bureau. The Eclipse Point Security Bureau, or EPSB for short.

Although it’s a police organization, in Eclipse Point, where everything happens according to the will of megacorps, it was naturally privatized long ago, and security became a paid service.

Catching a simple pickpocket costs 100 credits, hit-and-run investigation 300 credits, murder investigation 500 credits.

Of course, charges for ammunition and human resources expended during investigations were separate.

Because of this absolutely awful revenue structure, people living in Eclipse Point’s lower city regarded the EPSB as merely unemployed people casually walking the streets.

“The EPSB is currently divided into factions: one that advocates for blocking access to the lower city for easier security management in the upper city, and another that wants to maintain the current status quo.”

“Typical guys who want to cut costs by doing shoddy work.”

In fact, such attempts to reduce maintenance costs were commonplace in Eclipse Point.

It’s highly probable that after completely isolating the upper and lower cities, the EPSB would completely withdraw from the lower city, since people there don’t use their services anyway.

“The currently dominant faction is the one advocating for isolation, supported by the current director.”

It wasn’t particularly surprising, given that the security management bureau was a private company.

“And the client who requested this chipset delivery is the former director, who was pushed out of politics.”

“Wait a minute. Didn’t you say it was an easy job? From what I’m hearing, it sounds incredibly deep and complicated.”

I couldn’t help but protest Luna’s words, telling me to get involved in the power struggle of the EPSB, an organization that held its own even among powerful megacorps.

It’s common knowledge that mercenaries live by putting their lives on the line, but this definitely isn’t a job to give to an idiot just starting out as a mercenary.

“Even if he’s the former director, he’s just an old man pushed out of power, stuck in a back room. The EPSB will be heavily deployed around the director’s house, so security checks might be a bit strict, but there shouldn’t be much danger.”

“What’s your definition of ‘dangerous job’?”

“Dex, who are determined to kill us, being deployed and surrounding us?”

Dex are the EPSB’s special forces, monsters armed with military implants deployed to neutralize criminals that ordinary officers cannot apprehend.

In other words, you don’t consider it dangerous unless it’s a 100% guaranteed death, do you?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t worry too much. Do you think I’d send you alone?”

Luna must have found it amusing to see me bury my head in the bar, as she chuckled quietly, placed the chipset in a shielded case, and set it on the table.

“So, what’s the pay?”

“Even though he’s been pushed out, he was still a director, so he’s quite generous. A whopping 100,000 credits!”

“100,000… credits?!”

Startled by the amount, I shot up.

Since 1 credit can buy roughly a small chocolate bar, making it similar in value to about 1 dollar, 100,000 credits was an enormous sum to earn from a single job.

‘My monthly food expenses are 200 credits and rent is 400 credits…’

That means I could easily last 10 years just by earning that!

Of course, she said I wouldn’t be doing it alone, so I’d have to share a lot, but I drooled, imagining the beautiful feast of zeros appearing in my account.

“…But it’ll be dangerous, won’t it?”

“The existence of this chipset has become known to a gang called Neo Shinsengumi in Japan Town, so there will be a shootout.”

“Damn it. A shootout for a law-abiding citizen like me.”

“You can shoot a gun, can’t you?”

The belief that one must protect their own body was widespread, so basic gun operation was common knowledge, and I could handle a gun easily. However, clashing with gangs was usually a tricky business.

Moreover, rumors were widespread that the gangs in Japan Town were so brutal that they would deliberately not kill rival gang members but instead drag them away and execute them by their method of *seppuku*, making it even worse.

“Since it’s your first job, I’ll make sure about 20,000 credits end up in your hands.”

“20,000… 20,000…”

With 20,000 credits, I wouldn’t have to worry about the rent for that shabby neo-apartment.

If I indulged a little, I could escape that awful kibble and enjoy meals of burgers made from cultured meat or processed foods.

I pondered like someone making vain fantasies about what they’d do if they won the lottery, then manipulated my cyberdeck to send Luna a link.

“Hmm? What’s with the sudden link?”

“If I come back alive, wear that for me.”

“What?”

Luna, with a face that asked what I was suddenly talking about, accessed the link, and her face flushed noticeably, even in the dim light of the bar.

The link, admirably, led to the purchase page for a micro bikini with an incredibly tiny surface area.

It also had a remote fitting system that allowed a preview of a 3D fitting model based on the buyer’s body information, so she probably saw herself wearing that micro bikini.

“Ugh… What kind of taste is that… No, more importantly, why do *I* have to wear this?”

“You’re throwing me into such a dangerous job, you should at least give me some motivation.”

“20,000 credits is enough motivation… Ah! Alright! I get it! I’ll wear it then! But I’m only giving you 10,000 credits!”

“Good.”

Seeing my pathetic, poverty-stricken act of a person about to hang themselves and leave this world, Luna sighed and purchased the micro bikini.

“You’re burning 10,000 credits just to see me wear this once? You’re not actually short on cash, are you?”

“Call it an investment.”

I chugged the synthetic whiskey in front of me and stood up.

“Call me when you’re ready to start. I need to get used to this body.”

“You’re going out like that?”

“Ah, my clothes.”