Kanata’s knack for trouble seems to be ingrained.
“Lieutenant, you really never run out of trouble, do you? I tagged along with you for kicks, but it’s been an event-filled ride, and I’m starting to get sick of it. Can’t we slow things down a bit?”
“Use your genius intellect to come up with a way to slow down.”
As we walked towards the taxi stand, we ran into trouble again.
Some rough-looking guys were cutting in front of people waiting for taxis, and to make matters worse, they were wearing Mechanist Army uniforms.
(What are you going to do?)
(If they were harassing civilians, I couldn’t ignore it, but they’re just cutting in line. I’ll leave them be.)
(I hate this kind of thing!)
(Me too. But I don’t want to cause trouble. I have too much of a criminal record.)
…It seems the gods have no intention of listening to my humble wish.
The thugs in uniform started harassing the young man who had called them out for cutting.
“Ah, it hurts. Let go of my arm.”
“It should be ‘Please let go!’ Don’t you have any respect for soldiers!”
(Lieutenant, you said you couldn’t ignore it if they were harassing civilians, right?)
(That’s right. Let’s go.)
Don’t you dare grab the chest of the perfectly reasonable young man, you thugs!
“Alright, alright. That’s exactly what the young man said, right? Line up properly.”
“Huh? Who the hell do you think you are, punk?!”
“Lieutenant, what are they saying? I don’t understand thug-speak, can you translate for me?”
Even Lilith, a hyper-multilingual who had mastered every language with a dictionary, seemed to be outside her expertise when it came to dictionary-less thug-speak.
“Lilith, I don’t think that’s thug-speak, it’s more like cockroach-speak.”
“So they’re my seniors who’ve been clinging to this planet for 200 million years. My apologies~”
The thugs in uniform, whose already low boiling points had been reached, apparently reached their limit.
“We don’t need you, you bunch of Alliance losers! Scram if you don’t want to die! Do you know how many soldiers I’ve killed? 18 of them, 18!”
“Big brother is a rising star!” “I’ve killed ten people myself, you know? Are you scared?”
A trio of thug soldiers, huh… Is this some kind of Mechanist Army version of the Three Stars of the Dipper?
I can handle these guys, but this is a neutral city. It’s better not to injure them.
“Oh dear, even if you add up “Par” and “Bitch,” that’s only 28 people. Even combined, it’s not as many as the Lieutenant killed in the last operation.”
…I don’t count how many people I’ve killed. It’s just disheartening.
“Huh? Oh, Big Brother, isn’t that uniform… Asura Unit?”
Good work, Thug Number Two. If they’re scared of the name, it’ll save me some trouble.
“So what if it’s the Asura Unit? I’m not scared of something like that!”
“Isn’t this a chance to make a name for ourselves? Let’s take them down.”
The Mechanist Army’s Three Stars of the Dipper are just thugs, huh… Well, it’s not really three stars with a woman present.
“Yeah. If we take down the Asura Unit, our reputation will soar.”
Seriously. I wish they’d be scared of the name like Monkey Face Number Two, this is troublesome. Hmm, Monkey Face Number Two?
“Drop it, Pāman. I’m telling you, take Booby and Pāko and get lost. And next time you come to the city, bring Pā-yan, the one in charge of brain work.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?! Do you want to be chopped up?!”
He drew a shiny object, huh? This is troublesome.
Pāman, on the right, is threatening me while switching his knife from hand to hand at high speed.
“Hahaha, they say my knife skills are the best in the unit!”
What an idiot. Compared to Viper-san, your knife skills are child’s play.
Viper-san himself said, “Only losers switch knives at high speed,” you know?
It’s true, isn’t it? Why would you let go of your weapon!
Lilith uses Psychokinesis to send the knife I kicked away into the gutter, and that’s that.
“Who said their knife skills were the best in the unit? You must be in a very low-level unit. Could it be that ‘unit’ refers to kindergarten?”
“Perhaps nursery school? Considering their intelligence level.”
Behind Pāman, Pāko reached for her holster! Damn, I guess I can’t help but injure them!
But Pāko couldn’t draw her gun from her holster. A man who had crept up silently from behind had grabbed her arm.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“That’s my line. Are you insane, waving a gun around in the city?”
“You’re a Mechanist Army soldier too! Are you going to take the Alliance’s side!”
The one who grabbed Pāko’s arm was also wearing a Mechanist Army uniform. Although it was worn rather sloppily.
“This guy’s not a dog, he’s a wolf? You lowlifes should read the Soldier Catalog more often. Otherwise, you’ll just die…”
“Who are you calling a lowlife, damn it!”
The sloppily dressed soldier stopped Pāman’s punch with his fist and crushed it. The gallery winced at the sound of bones cracking.
“Are you still going at it? Disputes in a neutral city are forbidden, but quarrels among yourselves aren’t so much.”
With his fist completely crushed, and all his fingers bent at odd angles, Pāman seemed to have lost his will to fight.
He grabbed his two lackeys and fled from the taxi stand as if rolling away.
Farewell, Pāman team. Go get re-educated by Birdman.
“Gintetsu, I’ll remember this! This isn’t over!”
What’s with the howl from a distance? What cowards. …Huh? Did he just call him Gintetsu?
“I don’t have time to remember every insignificant nobody like you.”
“Thanks for the rescue, Hitman.”
“…You know me, Kenrou?”
“I’ve read the Soldier Catalog.”
Kurogane Gin. A unique soldier who came from a yakuza background. Nicknamed “Hitman,” Gintetsu.
“I see. It’s kind of rich for me, a former yakuza, to say this, but soldiers these days are worse than yakuza.”
“If even social outcasts are treating them like trash, they have no dignity left.”
Wherever she is and whoever she’s talking to, that little girl always has a sharp tongue. It’s a problem.
“Stop it, Lilith. Thanks to you, we avoided trouble. You should be thanking him instead of spitting venom.”
“I don’t need thanks. I just couldn’t stand by and watch someone inconveniencing decent people.”
“…Is that what people call the good old days of chivalry? It’s not very popular these days, is it?”
“Kenrou, you intervened because decent people were about to be harmed, right?”
“Before it was about decent people, I simply hate guys like that. They’re my second-most hated type.”
“What’s your first?”
“Self-important ramen chefs.”
“Ah, you mean those guys who get angry when you order ‘One Chashu Ramen’ and say, ‘Don’t ask questions until I’m ready!'”
Yeah, there are plenty of those. Shop owners who mistake their craft for arrogance.
“Exactly. And then while eating ramen, if I’m talking with my companion…”
“…They’ll yell, ‘I’m putting my heart and soul into making this ramen! If you can’t concentrate on eating, then leave!'”
“Right. And even though he has such handsome features, this guy’s got a good sense of humor.”
“When you ask for water, they’ll point to a ‘self-service’ sign with a knife they’re using to chop scallions.”
“If I ever met someone like that, I’d kill them without hesitation. Even if they were decent people, those who misunderstand their craft deserve to die.”
For a man with the moniker “Hitman,” he might actually kill them.
“Just half-kill them. A half-and-half set is a standard for ramen, right?”
“Friendliness is part of the taste. No matter how skilled a ramen chef is, they have no right to insult their customers. Those who disrespect customer service need to be taught manners. Even a tough-looking street vendor is friendly to their customers, right?… This smell. Chicken broth. And moreover…”
“Lieutenant, there’s a ramen stall over there. Talking about ramen made me suddenly crave some. The smell alone tells me it’s a good stall. Let’s go.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hey, wait. I noticed it first.”
“You just noticed the smell! I saw it first!”
“We can just eat together, can’t we? How about it, Gintetsu-san? You’ll probably say, ‘I don’t accept charity from enemies.'”
“I don’t accept charity from enemi— Huh!”
…Is this guy, who’s playing along with my Joseph impression, actually a good person?
“It’s not charity. What happened earlier is a debt in my book. I want to repay that debt now. Otherwise…”
“We won’t be able to kill each other on the battlefield without reservation, will we?”
“You get it. That’s exactly it.”
“…I’ll accept. So we can fight without any lingering debts. Let me tell you…”
“I don’t intend to get friendly, do I? Me neither.”
“It’s decided.”
Thus, our forced alliance was formed, and we ducked under the noren of the ramen stall.
Gintetsu, the former yakuza soldier nicknamed “Hitman.” …Drinking with an enemy could be interesting.
