episode_0047

Relying solely on the light of a single headlight, they proceeded along the Out Point road, which was utterly barren for living creatures.

Abandoned relics of the past (such as neglected and broken utility poles, crumbled concrete structures, and rusted iron billboards) lurked in the darkness, subtly revealing themselves to the travelers exploring the unknown with engine sounds, giving them a momentary shiver.

Crunch. Hearing the sound of tires crushing the rising frost, they continued aimlessly through the desolate wasteland.

At least until Patton could interpret the coordinates scrawled on the note.

“Patton. When are you going to finish deciphering those damned coordinates? At this rate, we’ll end up in Arizona or Nevada, and we haven’t even bought gas.”

“Damn it, stop rushing me. I’m already getting carsick trying to read this tiny piece of paper in this shaky car.”

Bespectacled Patton spat out a complaint about the terrible ride quality in response to my prodding.

I couldn’t forgive an insult to my beloved car, but I had to admit the ride quality was terrible, perhaps because I’d bought it cheap, or because the suspension was in very poor condition.

Yet, stopping the drive was out of the question; Fifty-Star, an organization ruthless enough to thoroughly search Eclipse Point, hunt down the drug mama’s boy sprawled asleep in the passenger seat, and even raid corporate-run supermarkets, would surely be chasing us. So, we had to keep driving and changing our location.

“But is there a particular reason you took this job? Are you perhaps acquainted with that boy?”

“No. We’re complete strangers.”

“Then there’s no reason to do such a bothersome thing, is there? And no reason to be chased by a huge organization like Fifty-Star either.”

I let go of the steering wheel and scratched my head at Patton’s question.

That was certainly true.

After all, getting involved in such troublesome work just for curiosity was incomprehensible from a conventional point of view.

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I said I don’t know. I just did it because I wanted to. Is that not allowed?”

Reason is an indispensable element to motivation, but I didn’t think it was important.

If I want to do it, I do it.

I was sick of all those things that chained me like a leash—taxes, working hours, working environments—so wasn’t it obvious I would choose to continue on this path?

“You really have no plan…”

“Am I really being dragged along because of this thoughtless, damned fool? My life truly is pathetic.”

“Are you awake?”

Wade, who had been sleeping for a long time, naturally flick-flicked a cigarette to life and crossed her legs.

“If there was at least some splendid reason for kidnapping me, I wouldn’t feel so shitty about it.”

“How about an expedition to uncover the hidden secrets of Eclipse Point? Isn’t that somewhat romantic? There’s that famous quote, you know: ‘Dangerous Journey, Small Wages, Bitter Cold, Months of Complete Darkness, Constant Danger, Safe Return Doubtful, Honour and Recognition in case of Success.’”

It was an advertisement copy for “passion pay” that appeared in newspapers roughly two centuries ago, but it was a quote that always stirred the heart.

And at least it offered honor and glory upon success, which made it far more conscientious than the Megacorps of Eclipse Point, wasn’t it?

“That’s just something you made up to defend yourself. Someone like you probably doesn’t even have a proper dream.”

“…In an era like this, I doubt there are many who have a proper dream.”

Individuals were merely organic combustion resources, swallowed and exploited by the colossal entities called corporations that had grown to rival nations.

Many came to Eclipse Point under the banner of the Eclipse Dream, but 99.99% of them were broken and used to boost corporate profits before being discarded.

I, too, was just one of them.

Wade clicked her tongue, tsk-tsk, as if I were wrong, and wiggled her raised index finger.

“That’s not what I mean. I have no interest in the trivial and paltry dreams of a mere salaryman.”

Wade, fully expressing the mercenary’s habitual contempt for businessmen, shook her head as if they were beings not to be associated with.

“Then what is the dream of our esteemed Wade-nim?”

“Who said ‘our’? Well… my dream is simple. To die splendidly and magnificently… if possible, in a place where many eyes can see.”

“Your dream is to die?”

“I wonder if you know what ‘Well-Dying’ is.”

Of course I knew.

It was the concept opposite to ‘Well-Being,’ which aimed for ‘living well in abundance and comfort,’ instead aiming for ‘dying beautifully and with dignity.’ While its values and concepts had slightly changed from my own time, the broad framework remained the same.

“So you want to become a legend.”

Patton defined exactly what Wade’s dream was.

“Exactly.”

The names of those who achieve great feats and then fall, remembered and spoken of by mercenaries for a long time.

“So, to become a legend and be remembered.”

“Even if you make friends to play with, or lovers to have sex with, it’s all just a moment in life, and if you can’t be sure they’ll truly remember you when you’re gone, then it’s better to cause a big incident and engrave your name into as many people as possible.”

Socially, it was an utterly impure ideology, yet it wasn’t so far removed from common sensibility that it was entirely incomprehensible.

In fact, having recently worked and spoken with various mercenaries here and there, I knew that many desired such a magnificent end, so I felt no aversion to Wade’s words.

No, even excluding mercenaries, it was probably similar for me, for other mercenaries, and even for ordinary people, who contemptuously called us “corporate lackeys.”

Because death is lonely.

“Hey, four-eyes. You tell us what your dream is.”

“Why should I tell you… Damn it, fine. I get it.”

As Wade placed her hand on her katana and looked at Patton, Patton sighed and began to speak.

Indeed, communication is so much easier when fists are involved.

“Hmm… my dream is for my younger sibling to safely graduate from Megacorp School and rise to an executive position. I only got into this mercenary work in the first place to support them.”

“Is your sibling pretty?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s my younger brother. And even if it were a pretty younger sister, I wouldn’t introduce her to you.”

“Tsk… Too bad. Anyway, most people have a dream like this.”

Patton, the good older brother, seemed to deeply contemplate whether to smash Wade’s head in, then sighed and looked back intently at the note.

“Of course, there are those who have no dreams. But those are just incompetent weaklings; at least, all the strong ones who could be called big shots have dreams like this.”

“A dream, huh…”

“We call it a dream, but it’s really to keep from losing oneself in this hellish mercenary work, where blowing people’s heads off is common sense. And we call that ‘madness.’”

Wade’s eyes gleamed.

Looking closely into her eyes reflected in the rearview mirror, I could truly feel a glimpse of an unyielding madness.

Madness, also called a dream… Could this be why there are so many crazy bastards among mercenaries?

Since “dream” sounded better than “madness,” I thought about my own dream.

“Anyway, the coordinates have been deciphered.”

“Oh, where?”

I hadn’t realized how time had flown by while we chatted, but it seemed Good Brother Patton, the cryptographer, had finally found the coordinate values that someone with already terrible handwriting had scrawled in a hurry.

“I’m not a cryptographer. And don’t just naturally include me as a colleague.”

“If we’re working together, we’re colleagues. You’re being really petty. Are you gay?”

“…”

If there was one truly convenient thing about this problematic, macho society, it was this: if you wanted someone else to follow you, you’d always win by hitting them with, “Are you gay?” first.

If you affirmed by saying you didn’t want to, you became a fucked-up gay bastard. If you angrily denied it, you became a narrow-minded pussy who couldn’t take a joke.

I couldn’t even count how many times I went back and forth between “gay” and “pussy” during the first ten years of adapting.

Good Brother Patton, falling into this dilemma and clicking his tongue, perhaps chose the option of simply ignoring it completely, and quietly called out the deciphered coordinate values.

“Coincidentally, it’s right ahead of us.”

Without any unfortunate incident of having already passed it or it being on the opposite side of Eclipse Point, they only needed to go about 3 miles northwest.

‘It is 4,828.032m.’

‘You startled me! When did you wake up?!’

‘This AI could not condone Jwabudong using such an utterly evil unit system, and thus activated for correction.’

It was indeed a diabolical unit system.

Of course, in an era where Megacorps arbitrarily wielded power and dominated the world, they had formed alliances for productivity and profit, crushing the Imperial and US unit systems and achieving the great feat of unifying the world under the SI base unit system, though that too had now disappeared.

Feeling Martina’s gaze, her battery now fully charged after a long sleep, her bright eyes staring intently at the back of my head, I drove for a few more minutes and arrived at a desolate village lined with abandoned houses.

A spooky, abandoned village where no sign of human presence could be felt, as if no one lived there.

“…I recommend returning home, even now.”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

As I drove across the abandoned village, where a large warehouse suggested it might have once been a farm, I saw Martina utter those words. She was trying to maintain her usual mechanical face, but a trembling could be seen in her skin.

“Oh, are you scared?”

“Negative.”

“Really?”

“Affirmative.”

“…”

“…”

It seemed that the semi-super AI, created with Ayakashi’s technology, disliked places with such a scary atmosphere.

No wonder she always slept with the lights on.

After a long staring contest with Martina, I triumphed as she subtly averted her gaze, and with a joyful smile, I poked and prodded the still-sleeping drug mama’s boy, Aaron, awake.

“Drug mama’s boy, we’ve arrived, so stop sprawled out and get up and guide us to your mother.”

“Hnngh?! Uh?”

“Not ‘Uh?,’ you punk. If you’re riding in the passenger seat, isn’t it polite to at least chat to keep me, who’s even driving you, from getting bored?”

“S-s-sorry…”

“Ugh, why even bother. Fine. Let’s just get out for now.”

Martina and I, Well-Dying Samurai Wade, Good Brother Patton, and Drug Mama’s Boy Aaron turned off the car’s engine and stepped out into the eerie, abandoned village.

Crunch—the sound of rising frost crushing under boot soles was louder than when heard inside the car.

The temperature was probably fluctuating around minus 10 degrees Celsius. It was chilly even with a coat on.

I draped my coat over Martina and wrapped her up tightly.

Although the hem of the coat dragged on the ground because Martina was short, it didn’t really matter since it was an item used for its bulletproof performance anyway.

“Alright, let’s go find your mother in this terribly cold Out Point night.”

“There’s no need for that.”

Just as I was about to shout the rallying cry to begin the search.

From behind, a woman’s voice, low yet soft-toned, reached our ears.

Creak. Turning around at the sound of slow footsteps crushing the frost as they approached.

Wavy golden hair and green eyes in which emotions had quietly settled.

There, a woman approached, wearing a rather oversized lab coat, as if to say she was a researcher.

“Aaron. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Uh, Mom…!”

As soon as Aaron spotted her, he ran towards her as if he’d been waiting.

Of course, since we teased him as a mama’s boy all the time, despite his joyful feelings, he didn’t dare to hug her, just stood fidgeting in front of her.

She wore a questioning look, but whether she thought it was nothing or was concerned about us, whom her son had brought, she set Aaron aside and slowly walked towards us.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Kathleen Rossmore, Senior Researcher of Extreme Military. Though, of course, I’m unemployed and free now.”

“I’m John Doe, a mercenary from Rune’s Bar. This is Martina, my companion. And behind me are Chic Katana Girl Wade and Good Brother Patton.”

“Chic Katana Girl and Good Brother, those are unique names.”

“…That guy just made those up on his own. By the way, are you perhaps *that* Rune’s Bar?”

“Hey, you bastard! What’s Chic Katana Girl?! At least introduce me with something cool!”

As she made a self-deprecating joke in her pleasantly calm voice while introducing herself, I also introduced my companions to Aaron’s mother, who had introduced herself as Kathleen.

Of course, there was a very minor protest, but I neatly put it aside and decided to continue the conversation.

“We are the mercenaries your son hired. He made a rather gutsy contract to pay 100% of the compensation later.”

“Ugh… Uh, Mom…”

“I see. What I can pay is…”

Rumble—grumble.

Just then, two stomach grumbles echoed through the silent darkness of the Out Point.

Everyone’s gaze turned towards the source of the sound, and there stood Martina and I.

This damned nanoweare seemed utterly unforgiving of skipped meals. Damn it, I’d eaten donuts before we left, heavily glazed ones at that.

In this awkward situation, I decided to boldly make a demand instead.

“Give us something to eat!”

“Talking outside doesn’t seem ideal. Alright.”

Aaron, your mother is as kind in heart as she is in appearance.