HEAVY OBJECT:Volume16 Chapter 3

Status: Incomplete

3/11 parts completed

   

Chapter 3: The Boundary Between Safe Country and Battlefield Country >> Elimination Operation in the Atacama District

Part 1

All of a sudden: bunny girl.

Frolaytia Capistrano raised her voice with rabbit ears swaying.

“Listen up, everyone!!”

The potatoes were obviously going to listen to this. They were far more focused than usual.

They were on the west side of South America, in the battlefield country of the Atacama District. With a general altitude of more than 2000m and some areas reaching 5000m, it was the world’s most unhealthy desert because it even caused altitude sickness.

The person in the amusing costume put on a serious face and attempted to hold a pre-mission briefing.

To repeat, she was a cute bunny.

To provide more detail for the connoisseurs, she was a white bunny with the appropriate fishnet tights. She had the full set of cuffs, collar, and bowtie and she even had a lighter in her cleavage for true authenticity.

“We have details on the enemy group. They are an arms dealer called Woodstock. They started out as an Eastern European gang, but they have grown like an amoeba as they absorb criminal organizations, court-martialed soldiers, engineering groups, cults, and more from territories belonging to all four world powers. We estimate the total number of actual members is greater than 50,000, but we should assume that number increases tenfold if you include their patrons, front groups, corrupt cops they’re paying off, and others receiving indirect benefits. This is not about a battlefield country or a safe country. They have roots everywhere, so assume this is like eavesdropping on your neighbors.”

You could see how serious a matter 50,000 was when you recalled that the bunny commander’s battalion was only about 1000 strong. Since Woodstock was assumed to have a fair number of members with a military background, they had to assume all of those members had been given high-level specialized training.

People were currently being arrested all around the world, but those were either low-level delinquent boys or the aforementioned indirect benefiters like the presidents of exploitative corporations and the corrupt cops.

The real members were slipping through the cracks and fleeing their respective countries. They were using land, sea, and air routes to gather here in the Atacama District.

However.

That was not the potatoes’ main dish.

“(There’s something up with Frolaytia, so what’s the deal?)” whispered Quenser. “(A phantom pregnancy?)”

“(I dunno, but I’m going to sit back and enjoy it,)” replied Heivia. “(But she must not know that bunny color follows the same rules as underwear color. You don’t wear white with tits like that!)”

The 18-year-old commander was actually using her body to apologize, but those idiots had completely forgotten what they demanded she do and ended up attacking her instead. Even though Frolaytia had told them not to forget how they were treating her. The old maintenance lady sighed in exasperation, perhaps because she had seen more than her fair share of people who were uncompromising about the weirdest things back in the good old Island Nation.

The one and only sensible person (who was dressed as a white bunny that could die from loneliness) trembled as she continued.

“Given the size of Woodstock, how deeply they have worked their way into the militaries of the world powers, and most importantly, the decent possibility they have prepared a Second Generation from the unique technology of their Parasite Plan, the Legitimacy Kingdom, the Information Alliance, the Capitalist Corporations, and the Faith Organization have gathered their forces for a joint operation. This mission shall be known as Operation Southern Cross Grim Reaper. That’s exactly the kind of juvenile name I would expect from the military, but keep in mind that anyone who finds it too embarrassing or annoying to say will be punished.”

“(How is that any worse than you for giving the arms dealer’s Object as straightforward a name as Gangster?)”

“Quenser.”

He was a smart boy, so he immediately fell silent.

“Heh. So we’re getting all buddy-buddy to protect the common feeding ground known as clean war?” said Heivia. “This reminds me a lot of Oceania.”

“Miss Bunny, just the other day, we fought the Capitalist Corporations in the Hawaii District, blew up their Second Generation, and even ruined their Oxyocean Operation,” said Quenser. “I’m fine with a joint operation, but aren’t you worried they’ll suddenly shoot us right in the ass partway through?”

“I have no interest in their grudges or any discord on the battlefield. Take care of yourselves while you’re out there. All joint operations and joint exercises have conspiracies going on behind the scenes, so there’s always a chance you’ll be killed and have it blamed on ‘friendly fire’ or ‘mysterious food poisoning’.”

She was as irresponsible as could be.

Besides, the four world powers were enemies who were always staring each other down with Objects. It was not even an issue of being betrayed. They were not supposed to trust each other in the first place.

“Woodstock has apparently long had their headquarters on the bank of a lake in the Atacama Desert. It includes some circular farms created artificially. Their main crop appears to be corn.”

The satellite photos showed a series of unnatural green circles lined up in the desert. It was like the reverse of crop circles. A few large Southern European style mansions and some apartments for servants were located near the lake providing a water source. With 50,000 people in an area measuring 2.5 kilometers long and wide, it looked something like a small town, but it still did not stand out much when compared to the scope of the farms as a whole. Those sprawling fields could extend past the horizon and were cared for by scattering agrochemicals from small planes, so this was not too surprising a size for a large farm.

…Then again, their estimates were dependent on technology and the number of personnel could be greatly reduced through use of robots and automation.

Given that, 50,000 people was probably about right.

It was unclear how much money would be lost to food alone on a daily basis, but Woodstock could manage it. Money was power and they used that power to earn the right to wage war.

“Until now, it seems they actually paid taxes with their above-the-board identities and hid themselves in the paperwork, but they must have decided there was no hiding it once they began gathering the individual parts from around the world to build their Object. Our satellites can detect clear oddities now. Wiping them out is going be a multi-stage operation.”

“But…the Over Cavitation in the Hawaii District was a naval Object, wasn’t it? Can they really use part of its design in the desert???”

“They apparently had two or three candidates for each part. It was Woodstock that set all this up and I doubt they were dumb enough to go to these lengths if they couldn’t even use the Object they were building.”

“Okay, one more question: you said we would be ‘wiping them out’, but aren’t there people working on the farms they used for cover? And wouldn’t the arms dealers have brought their ignorant families and mistresses here?”

“Yes, it is possible they brought people they know, but those people must have noticed something was up. They probably just turned a blind eye because they enjoyed the glamorous lifestyle the dirty money bought them.”

Quenser had his doubts, so he made a mental note of the issue.

He would have to think about this more during the mission.

Heivia, on the other hand, was the kind of person who would obediently kill when ordered to, so he had a different question.

“What’s our final objective? Destroying the Gangster created with their Parasite Plan, or killing the 50,000 people?”

“Grinov Quarterdeck.”

Frolaytia Capistrano used the projector to display a middle-aged man’s face and personal information on the wall.

“Sex: Male. Age: 43. He was the top of the aforementioned Eastern European gang. He has worked as a criminal planner, a counselor, a novelist, and an organizational restructuring advisor. He has four PhDs and he is known as the current age’s most devilish godfather. He supposedly belongs to the Orthodox Church, but he apparently has at least 5 wives. Woodstock is a fusion of several different organizations, but none of that could have happened without his charismatic leadership. It would have fallen apart well before now otherwise. …After all, even after growing to this size, every single deal they make requires his personal approval. He is a true genius when it comes to creating new crimes and organizations. You have him to thank for the modern forms of fraud and online murder that have spread across the globe. Those have probably caused more damage than the wars he’s caused. At the very least, we must hunt him down. The handmade Second Generation can come second.”

“…”

“There are a number of unverified legends about Grinov, but according to the intelligence division, the truth is even more than the legends let on. We have heard more than one story about a police station announcing their intent to stamp out organized crime and then finding a bunch of skeletons in the walls of their new office. And it goes without saying whose corpses those were.”

This time, they were not up against the military of another world power.

So if they were captured, the war treaties would hold no power. Who could say what cruel and brutal method would be used to execute them.

“And like I said, joint operations always come with conspiracies. Like that incredible accident during the joint exercise in Eastern Europe. During Operation Southern Cross Grim Reaper, assume the other powers are trying to take you for a ride no matter how much they grin and rub their hands together. Don’t trust what they say, read all the fine print, and don’t let anyone but me order you to certain doom.”

Part 2

“A new weapon for an irregular operation, huh?”

“This opponent exists outside the clean wars, so there will probably be traps, ambushes, and all sorts of dirty tricks. Yes, good girl. Take your time eating, okay?” At 40 degrees, the desert was truly scorching and Quenser spoke in an odd tone within the maintenance base zone.

He was talking to a military dog.

A trained German shepherd had her face shoved inside a food bowl on the ground. Dog noses were highly prized even in this modern age. Better sensors might be possible if you stubbornly honed your tech, but it was quicker and cheaper to run over to the pet shop.

Quenser was excited about it and Heivia watched from a distance while eating his soap-like rations.

“Are you sure they’re actually that cheap to keep around? Isn’t that thing eating better food than me?”

“My cute Rosa couldn’t possibly eat that garbage. Yes, good girl. Once you’re done eating, it’s time for some exercise to help you digest it. A girl needs to look after her weight after all. Let’s go patrol around the base together.”

“Skinny old Quenser is willingly going out on patrol?”

“What, is that a problem?”

“Sigh. I just don’t get it. Is this like how people go soft once they have a kid?”

“C’mon, Rosa, quit struggling. Think of it as dressing up. You want to look like a proper lady when you head out, don’t you? And this bulletproof jacket will keep you alive.”

“God, this is just disgusting to watch. Don’t let the Princess see you pampering that thing, okay?”

“Why? She was looking after that bear cub back in Eastern Europe.”

“That’s a different issue entirely.”

“?”

Without an energetic shout of “Let’s go, Rosa!”, Quenser ran off with the leash in hand. What was he going to do if he ran into an enemy soldier while patrolling without a gun?

Since this was a joint operation between the four world powers, the maintenance base zones had been partially joined together to create something like a giant residential area. More than just the one Object was stopped there.

It was like a 24/7 festival there, but how much money was being spent every day it continued? Just think about the cost of the basic necessities for thousands of people. Now odd on the bloat of government business and the price of all the equipment, weapons, and ammo. War was expensive. And since they were up against a criminal organization instead of a military or a nation, there was no guarantee they could make up for the financial losses even if they won.

“Look, Rosa! That’s a cutting-edge compound lidar sight. By linking together the sights around the maintenance base and command vehicle, the Object can keep a lock on the enemy even if its own sensors lose sight of-…”

He was cut off by a pitiful whine that did not sound at all like a military dog. That must not have been the best conversation topic for a date.

While the maintenance bases were combined, there were still fences between the different world powers. On the Information Alliance side of one such fence, a colossal weapon’s speakers produced a voice.

“Oh ho ho. So we meet again, Legitimacy Kingdom rat.”

“Rosa, don’t bristle up and growl. She’s technically an ally…for now.”

“Oh? What a cute partner you have this time. Fidget, fidget.”

“Is saying ‘fidget, fidget’ out loud one of those things you start doing when you’re an idol?”

“A world-famous idol with G-cups. Get it right. Oh ho ho. An amateur known as a legendary maid has been gathering attention of late, but my status at the top cannot be shaken.”

Was Heivia the one who had said this reminded him of Oceania? An attack on a group outside the clean wars, a joint operation between the four world powers, a desert artificially given greenery, and the Oh Ho Ho G-cup idol. Operation Southern Cross Grim Reaper had more than enough to dig up some less-than-pleasant memories.

The Rush had a rapid-fire beam Gatling cannon on either side and a cross-shaped air cushion float. It also had chainsaw-like treads that dug into the ground for emergency dashing.

It was a very different Object from the Princess’s, which was all-purpose but could be lacking in individuality. This one had thoroughly strengthened its strong points even if that meant leaving some weak points in, so it had the power to dominate in close-range combat on both land and sea.

“With this huge base set up, they must know we’re here.”

“Oh ho ho. Shouldn’t we assume they were luring us here? Of course, this mission is also being used to get some footage for my new song’s music video. I will place a price tag on this battle and make sure I come out on top.”

“You aren’t worried? This would normally be suicide.”

“There is no chance of Grinov alone escaping. His profile says he is their one-and-only godfather and he has never before relied on a body double. I also hear he has killed more of his fellow criminals than police special forces and all so he would get a greater share of the loot. Oh ho ho. He will fear anything that harms his charisma or his brand. Any attempt to defend himself, run away, or keep some insurance will only lower that parameter. Because his many subordinates are watching, he is stuck here. He cannot move. He is the sort of person who insists on approving every last deal they make, after all.”

“Everyone loves him, so he can’t say what he really thinks, huh? Sounds a lot like being an idol.”

“Please do not compare me to some filthy old man.”

In the distance, he heard several sounds like sparkling wine corks popping out.

“Oh, excuse me.”

A moment later, beams of light shot from the secondary cannons covering the Rush’s side like a sea urchin or chestnut burr. They were probably laser beams or rapid-fire beams. Lasers could not be seen from the side, but there was enough sand in the desert air to leave an afterimage as it was burned by the laser.

There were a few explosions in the air and a stir ran through the soldiers on guard duty.

“I just saved your life. Oh ho ho. Those were guerilla mortars.”

“Hey, don’t kill them. We might be able to get some information out of the Woodstock soldiers.”

“Oh ho ho. Don’t count on it. These are probably locals forced into this disposable role using debts or drugs.”

Even as she said that, Oh Ho Ho showed no mercy at all. She continued to fire over the heads of those in the maintenance base zone to blow away the 4-wheel-drive vehicle the attackers had arrived in and then vaporized those attackers one at a time. Surely this footage would not be used in her new song’s music video, right?

She represented a world power.

This was what happened to anyone who provoked the coalition force.

The German shepherd lying bored at Quenser’s feet got up and barked. That was unusual for a well-trained military dog. Curious, Quenser followed her gaze.

“Umm, this is Monica, the battlefield idol reporter who can both sing and kill… I don’t seem very excited this time? Of course I don’t. The Information Alliance has the real deal here. Am I like the guy who throws himself across the room to make the kung fu movie star’s kick look good!? We’re talking about someone who uses an entire war to gather material for the 3 or 4 minutes of a music video! Why do I have to help advertise the enemy’s poster girl!?”

“Oh, crap.”

When Quenser noticed, he patted Rosa’s head for informing him of the threat and started circling behind some containers piled up nearby.

However…

“Oh ho ho. Why are you sneaking around all of a sudden?”

“Agh, why did you say that!? Why do you idols think being brainless is cute!?”

“Ah.”

He was spotted.

His childhood friend named Monica pointed right at him.

“Ahh! Ahhh! Ahhhhh!!!!!!”

She made enough of a fuss that the nearby guards came over and restrained her. Since she could not overpower her suspicious behavior aura with her idol aura, she clearly needed more training.

Quenser was a little confused, but this was his chance.

“Hold it right there, Quenser!! That maid!! Didn’t you agree to seal that maid away forever, servant!?”

“Maid?”

Oh Ho Ho asked a dangerous question, but his only real option was to avoid such distractions and make a quick getaway. No one could ever find out that Battlefield Student Quenser Barbotage had worn a bra before Monica ever had!!

Part 3

And so he set out into the scorching 40-degree desert.

“It’s safer out here than in that base with a dangerous idol wandering around.”

“Oh ho ho. You don’t mean me, do you?”

Quenser and the others were in the Atacama Desert.

The Baby Magnum and Rush accompanied them on either side.

No, they were not the only ones on the move. All four world powers were a part of Operation Southern Cross Grim Reaper. Another unit of the same size was taking a different route from a different direction to reach the mansions and apartments for the farm owner and workers. They were trying to surround the settlement there. Since they were of the same size, the other unit had a Capitalist Corporations and Faith Organization Object with them.

“(I’m glad I’m with this unit after what happened in Hawaii. If we shared a unit with the Capitalist Corporations, they could shoot us in the back at any moment.)”

“(Yeah, act too cool and the world seems to punish you for it. I think god’s jealous of our badassery sometimes.)”

Everything was covered with fine sand and each step filled them with an unnatural level of exhaustion.

“What’s with the weird swarms of flies in some areas?”

“If you really want to know, get digging. There’s a criminal organization here, so there might be dismembered corpses buried there.”

The sun beat down on them from overhead. Was it really November? And even if it was, why hadn’t they made this attack at night? They wanted to curse so much about this operation.

Frolaytia explained via radio with obvious exasperation in her voice.

“Because the desert gets cold at night. And the elevation here is greater than 2000m. It gets at least down to freezing.”

“Would you look at that? Now we have a time limit: get back before nightfall or you’ll freeze! All we have are these thin, breathable uniforms! She just threw us out onto the front line while hiding crucial information again!!”

“Hold on! I shouldn’t have to tell you that part. It’s common knowledge.”

“If we freeze, let’s get her to warm us back up with her tits. After all the shit we’ve been through, we have to be entitled to at least that much.”

“Don’t get carried away after the bunny thing, you two.”

The area looked like nothing but empty desert, but that was an illusion created by having every surface colored the same like in a green screen filming studio. There were actually rolling dunes that soldiers could be hiding behind. And the biggest fear in this fine sand desert was the possibility of landmines made of wood or ceramic that their detectors would not find. They had brought dogs along to help with that.

There were small prefab buildings dotting the desert, but they felt no desire to approach those. What were those for? Just like cars abandoned on the side of the road, they seemed like the perfect place to hide a bomb. And even if there were no bombs, those windowless and un-air-conditioned prefab buildings with iron sheet roofs would make the perfect execution spots if you left someone tied up there in the 40-degree desert.

They were not going to approach such a visible threat.

The real issue was the invisible threats. Dogs were known for digging holes and finding food or toys, so there was no fooling their noses with some sand. When they were trained, they could accurately sniff out explosives hidden in a travel bag at the airport.

“Hey, wouldn’t it be best to let go of the leash and let the dog search freely? A mine goes off even if a dog steps on it, so you’ll be in the lethal range.”

“If you don’t trust her, then you grab a stick and poke the ground ahead of you as you walk. And take the lead so you don’t cause the rest of us any trouble.”

“The anxiety would kill me!!”

“Safety isn’t free. The dog is risking her life to do her job. Quit complaining while still reaping the benefits like an old-fashioned abusive husband. Really, you should apologize to Rosa.”

Not everyone in the unit had a dog with them. There was only one dog per 10 or 20 soldiers.

“Let’s review the process,” said the Princess. “We are acting as obvious bait, so we will move out ahead. We will cause plenty of chaos, so the rest of you shoot the soldiers that flee the hornet’s nest.”

“Oh ho ho. Our weapons would burn them to ashes. This is such a pain thanks to that Grinov Quarterdeck guy. If only we didn’t need an intact corpse to confirm his death.”

“We are monitoring things with the Object cameras and satellites, but that isn’t 100% reliable. We already saw camouflage meant to confuse sensors in Eastern Europe, so make sure to check with the naked eye too.”

It was possible the arms dealers had brought their families and mistresses.

The plan of attack sounded solid, but what were they supposed to do about noncombatants?

“What about their Second Generation Gangster?” asked Quenser.

“We will take care of it. They seem to have replaced one of their farms with an outside maintenance area. Although I imagine that makes it hard to get a baseline reading for the attitude control settings.”

“Oh ho ho. How about we see who can reduce it to scraps first? I am sick of the legendary maid topping all the trending lists. I want an exciting event for my music video footage.”

The Elites were as carnivorous as always. Modern girls were not going to sit around letting people take care of them. Those flowers of the summit were going to descend the mountain themselves.

“There they are. I see the circular farms.”

After walking through the desert with unnatural swarms of flies in places, Quenser came to a stop.

Each one had to be around 100 meters across. The characteristic circles of green had formed around sprinklers that resembled horizontal limbo bars. The circles were packed in together to fill the space, creating something like a honeycomb pattern.

The corn fields continued beyond the horizon, so the lake and the buildings were not visible from here. It was all part of the decoy used to hide the arms dealer’s true identity. The petit bourgeoisie wanted to ask why they didn’t just work toward success as wealthy farmers.

However…

“There it is,” reported the Princess via radio. “That isn’t a radar-camouflage balloon. I have spotted the Parasite Plan’s Gangster. That is definitely Woodstock’s Object.”

Just the one artificial element rose noticeably up from the horizon.

There was a metal jungle gym of scaffolding and the 50m spherical Object enclosed within. Even at this distance, they could tell it had several thick tubes and cables hooked up to the two main cannons on the right side. Almost like a large rocket waiting to be launched.

“So,” said the Princess.

“Oh ho ho. Shall we begin?”

The two Objects moved out ahead. The hunt had finally begun. Lots of sand was blasted into the air, so Quenser and the others coughed as they worked to get a view.

“Cough, ugh. The Parasite Plan means that thing was built from the different parts they sold to the world powers, right?” asked Heivia. “Can’t we make some general predictions about how it’ll move?”

“I doubt Woodstock ever gave up the plans,” said Quenser. “Any assumptions we make could be overturned at any moment. There’s no rule saying they have to use every one of the parts and there could always be some brand new parts in the mix.”

The two Elites were only meant to destroy the unregistered Object and rattle the enemy soldiers. Shooting those panicked soldiers was left to Heivia and the others, so they could not just watch.

And roads formed even in the open desert. People generally took the shortest route between important points while avoiding the rocks, quicksand, and their own landmines. Leaving those roads could mean getting lost or getting your tires stuck in the sand, so it would lead to death. Traveling across the desert may have been a lot like in the sea or air where there were optimal routes despite the wide open space.

Frolaytia spoke over the radio.

“The Capitalist Corporations and Faith Organization are attacking as well. But keep in mind that Grinov takes precedence. There’s a reward for whoever puts a bullet through his head, so pray that money bag on legs comes running your way.”

“Man, they’re attacking too soon. They should’ve waited until we’d tightened our circle around them some more. This is like trying to grab a tropical fish out of the ocean.’

“Getting closer wouldn’t make things easier if they made a preemptive attack while our Objects waited. Look, I see some motion on the horizon. Their families and mistresses might be mixed in, so kill the ones in military uniforms and hold up the ones in normal clothing.”

“What if they’re in normal clothes but have a weapon?”

“You pretend to question them from the front while I have Rosa bark at them from the side. Humans can’t disguise their reactions when they’re surprised.”

Quenser remembered hearing that from the professors at his safe country school who waved their pointers around and navigated the border between eccentric and downright insane. Although they had used that principle by shining a bright light on students who were making excuses after forgetting their homework.

“If they carelessly react like a pro, kill them. We can confirm their identities afterwards. We just have to hope one of the bodies has Grinov’s face.”

“So we’re straight up exterminating people now, huh? The world is coming to an end, isn’t it?”

“How many people do you think they killed to build up this pile of treasure here? If you’re still not certain, then try digging around near those swarms of flies.”

While they discussed that, Quenser felt a chill in the middle of the hot desert. Then he felt dampness on his hair and skin. The simple number of 40 degrees had vanished. The effect was similar to a mist shower. The wind may have carried over some of the water from the farms’ sprinklers.

Or so he thought.

However…

“Hm? Wah!?”

It came without warning.

It was a dull color. His vision was cut off by something thick. He initially did not know what the cream-colored thing was. It was created by the desert sand mixing with the moisture in the air.

In other words…

“A-a cloud!? Oh, right! I forgot how high up this is!!”

“You’re kidding, right? And isn’t it rumbling all around here? Don’t tell me these are thunderclouds!!”

An unnatural bolt of lightning ran horizontally from right to left.

The cloud may have gathered static electricity more easily by absorbing it from the sand in the area.

“Ksh!! Kssshhh! Watch out for weather changes! And for sudden – kssshhh!! – lightning strikes!”

“What’s that, Frolaytia!? I can’t hear you!”

“Damn her and her tits. Just telling us to watch out for lightning isn’t going to help much right now! I’m seriously gonna grope those things later…”

An open desert or farm was more dangerous than a golf course, but they could not let go of their guns and knives with a war going on.

“This is why we should use plastic ones. They’re lighter, they don’t rust, and they don’t get you struck by lightning!”

“The lightning will hit you even if you aren’t carrying metal! Heivia, don’t just stand there! Crouch down!”

“What are you supposed to do to avoid lightning? I know you’re not supposed to go near tall trees or the water, but can’t it travel through the ground and hit you even if you get down!?”

They saw flashes of light and heard screams from beyond the thick cloud. There was no telling whether those were from the world powers or from Woodstock. The natural disaster hit everyone equally.

And Quenser realized something.

“This is bad.”

“Worse than it already is!?”

“The Princess uses a static electricity propulsion device. All this lightning around her is going to mess with her movements! It could even bring her to a complete standstill!!”

“She’s fighting a mystery Second Generation right now, isn’t she?”

“Princess!!”

Quenser shouted into his radio, but it was full of static due to all the interference. He knew the risk, but he could not tell her about it.

“What do we do?”

“Our job hasn’t changed. Heivia, don’t let any of the panicked enemy soldiers escape. We’ll have risked our lives for nothing if Grinov slips right past us!”

Fortunately, the four world powers were working together for Operation Southern Cross Grim Reaper. The Princess’s trouble was not guaranteed to turn the tide of the battle. It would not be a problem if the other Objects picked up the slack. The Oh Ho Ho’s Rush used an aircushion system, so it would not have trouble moving in the thundercloud.

But Heivia sounded unhappy as he continued toward the circular farms with assault rifle in hand.

“Can she really rely on them? Don’t forget that there are always conspiracies during joint operations and joint exercises. I’ve heard the horror stories about that Eastern European forest.”

“Stop it. I don’t need to hear this now of all times.”

And then…

“Wah!”

Of all things, Rosa suddenly turned around and dove into Quenser’s chest. Unable to support the tomboy’s weight and momentum, he toppled backwards and then he cowered down when gunfire rang out beyond the thick curtain. The sand burst quite nearby.

If Rosa had not knocked him down, he might have died.

“That was close! Are we under attack!?”

“Heivia, look where Rosa’s eyes are focused and fire!!”

A short burst of gunfire rang out and it must have drawn in the lightning because a bluish-white bolt crackled by from right to left at eye level and accurately pierced the flying bullets.

“Dammit, I have no idea what the right thing to do is!!”

“Sh.”

Quenser patted Rosa’s head and got up. He and Heivia cautiously walked forward until they found a man in an unfamiliar uniform who had been shot and killed. Even in death, he still held an assault rifle with a wooden stock. The two idiots spoke while looking down at the corpse.

“Wow, Rosa’s nose is deadly accurate even with all this going on.”

“Let’s keep going like this. I wonder what happened with the Princess.”

The thunderclouds still left the radio too staticky to use.

While firing the occasional shot with the German shepherd’s assistance, they entered an area packed full of tall corn stalks. Rosa’s nose was still crucial to their survival. When they occasionally ran across people in Legitimacy Kingdom or Information Alliance uniforms, she remained calm and did not bark, so there was no fear of friendly fire.

“Did you get him?”

“Not yet. So no bonus for you either, huh?”

They used that short exchange to see if Grinov Quarterdeck was still alive and then fanned out across the area while approaching the mansions by the lake. The area felt more like a green field than a desert at this point. All of this was camouflage meant to hide the arms dealers’ true identities. Lightning continued shooting by horizontally, but it was focused on the sprinklers that passed by overhead like limbo bars. The metal pipes seemed to function as lightning rods in this case.

“Damn the rich.”

The general atmosphere had changed.

Things were somehow different from the desert full of weird swarms of flies and mystery prefab huts. It was possible the corpses were all abandoned or buried out in the desert to keep their own territory clean.

“He might be using a boat to cross the lake.”

“He can’t escape no matter where he goes. This joint operation gives us way more personnel to work with than normal. So why not let him choose where he wants to die?”

Heivia followed Rosa’s nose to shoot a would-be ambusher and a bolt of lightning reacted to the bullet by running horizontally into the Woodstock soldier’s wound. The soldier’s torso exploded with the sound of a tree trunk splitting vertically.

“The blessing of heaven? Now that’s scary as hell.”

“At least it wasn’t his head. Then we wouldn’t have known if he was Grinov.”

Just then, the German shepherd came to a stop after moving a bit ahead on her leash. She lay flat down on the ground and nearly tripped Quenser.

He did not have time to question it.

This was far greater than the previous lightning strikes. A giant white explosion blew away everything, including the thick storm cloud. The sunlight producing the desert’s scorching 40-degree temperature was back in full force.

What had happened?

What had blown up?

“U-ugh…”

“Ah ha ha. Eh heh heh. The legendary maid is waving my way. How about you come live in my mansion and work for me?”

Heivia had apparently taken a step into heaven, so Quenser ignored him. Quenser spent some time sitting on his butt and fighting his white-scorched vision, but he eventually managed to see the corn field and an unbelievably clear blue sky.

A crumpled-up hunk of metal had fallen not far away.

When Woodstock’s Second Generation Gangster had started moving, it had purged the jungle gym of scaffolding around it and a piece must have rolled over here.

Or so Quenser assumed, but he was wrong.

It was an Object.

Both the Capitalist Corporations and the Faith Organization’s prized Second Generations had been blown up and rolled this way.

This was abnormal.

The Parasite Plan had created a patchwork Object like it was Frankenstein’s monster. The exact details were unknown and the thundercloud caused by the high elevation had cut off everyone’s vision and radar, but still.

“How?”

It looked like Heivia would have trouble accepting reality right away, but there was no time for denial. His teeth chattered and his eyes widened as he lamented the situation.

“The difference in numbers is supposed to be absolute in Object battles. So how did this happen!? Are its main cannons just that monstrous!?”

Quenser clenched his teeth as he viewed the fearsome enemy.

He was scared.

But that was why he could not afford to tremble in silence.

He forced out some words.

“No. It isn’t the main cannons we should be afraid of.”

“What? What else is there!?”

The Gangster.

Now that he saw it, he could hardly believe it took him this long to notice. It was less than 100 meters away. But instead of screaming, Quenser quietly crouched down, held Rosa in his arms, and hid behind the corn.

It had two main cannons on the right side: one at the top and one at the bottom.

There were giant ring-shaped platforms at various points around the spherical body and low-stability plasma secondary cannons were lined up along those. They were a set. That may have been a way of reducing costs.

The propulsion device appeared to be aircushion floats arranged in an equilateral triangle. They were covered in anti-air laser beam secondary cannons. For some reason, the points of the triangle were also oddly swollen.

But something else was odd too. Something was flying around the Gangster. They may have been something like the air-to-air missiles used by fighter jets, but they also had long main wings much like an airplane.

The arrow-like patterns covering their surface were probably a kind of camouflage.

But not the kind meant to blend into natural scenery.

There were patterns that made something’s speed and direction of movement hard to determine. Those flying devices and the Object they surrounded had been drawn into the world of trick art.

It was almost like a flock of small birds or a swarm of bugs. The few dozen devices flew along serpentine paths to wrap around the Object again and again. They were most reminiscent of flies swarming a hunk of rotting meat. The cold machinery somehow made them imagine the stench of death.

The swollen parts at the points of the equilateral triangle may have been efficient launchers for those things.

The trick art camouflage would not work on anyone using electronic or mechanical targeting, but since Object battles came down to a high-level battle of predictions between the Pilot Elites, it might actually be effective there.

“Remote targeting…”

“Hm?”

“Those are unmanned drones with no weapons. With just the Object, you can sometimes break a lock by fleeing to the side or behind, but there is no blind spot if the radar and IR is being sent out from multiple directions. It can lock onto enemies outside of normal radar range using those. Even if the enemy is behind a building or cliff. I believe the tech was developed from the ultra-long-range locking mechanisms used in fighter planes.”

“Objects are covered in anti-air lasers, right? Won’t all those be shot down in no time?”

“It doesn’t care if they are. As long as they accurately record and report on what direction and distance the attack came from, the Object knows where the enemy is.”

Also, the wreckage of the two destroyed Objects was so full of holes they looked like sponges.

“The Gangster’s main cannons must be a coilgun and a rapid-fire beam cannon. And they both scatter a whole bunch of shells over a wide area. You can think of them like giant shotguns. At range, they fan out enough to do damage over a wide area, but once the target has been slowed, it can move right up to them and hit them with its most powerful attack. When the Gangster gets close, the enemy can enter its blind spot by dodging to the sides, so it uses those remote targeting drones to avoid that risk.”

Either way, there were two things he could say for sure.

First, the Gangster’s power was real. The coincidental weather change may have helped, but it had accomplished more than it should have when outnumbered 4-to-1.

Second, they were a mere 100 meters from the Gangster. If the Objects clashed again, they would be crushed and turned to mincemeat. It did not really matter if the Objects knew they were there or not.

What was most concerning here?

The rapid-fire beam cannon and coilgun main cannons?

The low-stability plasma cannon and laser beam secondary cannons attached to the spherical body and the triangular floats?

Or the drone formation flying around the Object like flies on rotting meat?

No, it was none of those.

“How did it target the other Objects so accurately in that thick storm cloud?” Quenser cut to the heart of the issue. “The cloud cut off normal vision and IR, radar couldn’t get through with everything electrified, and the rumbling thunder rules out ultrasound. So what was it? Does the Gangster have some special eyes only it can use!?”

“What about those fly-like things swarming around it!?”

“Their remote targeting still uses radar or IR, so that isn’t enough to explain it!!”

What mattered most in a prison meant to hold violent criminals? People might imagine it was thick walls or powerful firearms, but the answer was something else: knowledge of the prisoners’ locations.

The true master of the prison would eliminate all shadows and have a clear view of everything there.

This Object had become a blind killer.

“Listen!”

So it was fortunate that the Gangster contacted them on all bands. Quenser and the others did not care if this was a threat or an attempt at negotiation. Instead of processing what was being said, they had to focus on sneaking away from there. They wanted to be at least 400…no, 500m away.

But did their efforts mean anything at all?

This was a blind killer who could see through any and all forms of camouflage and deception.

“We wish to avoid any unnecessary conflict. As before, we only seek sponsors! All four of you world powers worked with us. If any one of you accepts, we will offer you this Object we created with the Parasite Plan. Its abilities have already been proven through the defeat of your Objects. Our Object is powerful. You can immediately incorporate it into your forces or you can dismantle it and make the technology of the other world powers your own. Do with it as you wish! But you have only the one opportunity. If one of the other world powers beats you to it, you are out of luck!!”