Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume12 Chapter 7 (section)

===Part 2===

It was strange for the final battle to be the most relaxed, but they truly had nothing left after this one.

Heivia spoke to Quenser as they left the large vehicle that functioned as a briefing room.

“Hey! I hear we’re gonna get you-know-what up and running. And I can’t believe we’ve got another new weapon after all this.”

“Well, Second Venice does belong to the Information Alliance. Frolaytia apparently made a deal with their military, so they shared data on a district not found on the public maps.”

“So is this gonna work?”

“The problem is how hard it is to calculate any of that out. We’re up against Mr. Strongest here.”

They ran across a bodyguard team who surrounded the Princess in her blue special suit.

She seemed to notice them.

“I’ve been stuck in the Object this entire time.”

“This is no time to be sulking. We’ve been crawling through a bunch of gray rubble, so I wish I’d been able to stay nice and comfortable with an air conditioner and fridge.”

“Mh. It wasn’t easy for me either.”

“Well, yeah. It couldn’t have been fun sitting there in a motionless gun platform. It’s the toughest thing we have, but it was also the easiest target.”

The Baby Magnum’s repairs were complete, so it was finally back up and running. And since Frolaytia had gained the cooperation of the Information Alliance, the Princess no longer had to be prepared for battle around the clock. They probably wanted a chance to perform a condition check on the Pilot Elite herself.

And speaking of Pilot Elites, there was another one here.

After Quenser and Heivia left the Princess, they walked to the general medical building where a small girl with a blond braid waited for them.

“Big brother…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You don’t need to get up.”

Catherine had started to sit up, but Quenser held out a hand to stop her.

The back of her head sank into the pillow once more.

“I’ve heard most of it. And it sounds like you really weren’t kidding about taking on the Old Fashion.”

“Why would I kid about that?”

“You can simulate a way to defeat the Baby Magnum. …But you can’t with Robert Mistynail. Even if you have every last bit of information, the calculations never work. Do you really think you can defeat someone like that?”

Quenser could not deny that he was afraid.

Even without Robert’s legendary status, simply facing an Object was frightening.

But he could not stand still.

“We will end this today,” he said. “And we’ll send you to a safe country. We’ll send you somewhere where the rules of the Object-filled battlefield countries can’t reach you. That’s why we can fight.”

“…”

When they saw Catherine pull the blanket up to cover her face, the two idiots left the room.

“You sure like to act cool.”

“You know as well as I do that I have to say that or I’ll piss myself.”



Meanwhile, Major Frolaytia Capistrano held her kiseru in her mouth and faced her notebook computer in her private room. The video chat mode was active and it displayed a brown-skinned woman with long silver hair who was apparently the Information Alliance base commander.

“That was a very interesting document. But depending on how you look at it, you might be missing the main point. We will be going back over everything from the ground up.”

“Enough posturing. No matter how much you review that report, you will not find any errors. I feel bad for making you read a 200+ page epic, but I can sum up what that report means in a single sentence: You’re in trouble, Information Alliance. Now, what will you do? You forced some very public casualties on the world to draw out the culprit, but without a chance to recover, you really will sink this time, Lieutenant Colonel Lendy Farolito.”

“…”

“What we need to do is break free of this situation. I think we can both agree with that. But if you have time to search for nonexistent mistakes, then the wise thing to do would be to cut your losses and help us. Second Venice will dry up soon. If we do not defeat the Old Fashion and open the way out, hundreds of thousands of civilians will die. And a lot of them are wealthy or VIPs, so that will create a lot of resentment. And since Second Venice originally belonged to the Information Alliance and the trouble began as soon as it was taken from you, responsibility lies with you. Aren’t you the ones who will suffer the most if this bomb goes off?”

“But you have no time.”

“So you think you can find excuses to delay negotiations until we’re desperate enough to give you a better deal? Don’t be ridiculous, you crafty woman. You’re the ones without any time. The last train is about to leave the station. We will send it out whether it has any passengers or not, so you will be the ones left in tears if you do not board it in time.”

“Do you really think we can agree to a plan where our Gatling 033 acts as your shield!?”

“It was on your orders that the Rush blew away a transport ship with thirty days’ worth of food and living supplies and – more importantly – a crew of forty. Second Venice was a threat as an infection base, so you had no real reason to kill anyone coming in. You only had to add them to the quarantine list after they arrived. But you still fired. You wanted to avoid dragging out the issue and you wanted us to starve as soon as possible. Did you think you could strut around the world without paying for that?”

“…Tch. Understood, Major Frolaytia Capistrano.”

“Say woof.”

“Wha-!?”

“I’m sorry, lieutenant colonel. But in my unit, this is how we reeducate useless trash. You can refuse if you want, but my demands will only grow harsher as time passes. I would suggest learning who is in charge before I make you pose and beg like a dog. Got that, war buddy?”



After returning to the Baby Magnum’s cockpit, the Princess put on her goggles, operated the console with her fingertips, and confirmed that the naval floats had properly linked to the system.

(That just leaves the hardware.)

“Hello? Old lady?”

“What is it? We’re busy sewing up your dress, so keep it short. We’ve got to get you to the ball in time.”

“You’re shorthanded, aren’t you? I’ll head down and help.”

With that said, she unzipped her special suit, stripped it off, and tied the side knots to transform her naked body into a blue bikini. She used the cockpit seat elevator to exit the Object and found herself in a world where thick wires functioned as scaffolding. It looked like Gulliver had been tied up.

A few of the male maintenance soldiers whistled, but the old lady personally shoved them all into the ocean. The wiser guys kept their heads down and focused on their work. Seeing that bikini meant death.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You can start by taking a refresher course on ethics. Anyway, we’re replacing the onion armor, so if you’re willing to face the welding sparks in a bikini, then grab a mask and burner and come with me.”

When the Princess picked up the tools, a transmission reached the radio in the tool belt around her waist.

It was from the G-cup Oh Ho Ho, Pilot Elite of the Information Alliance’s Second Generation Rush.

“Oh ho ho. Honestly, to think I would have to fight alongside you of all people.”

“I’m trying to work right now, so don’t talk to me.”

“I mean, I don’t know how much the Faith Organization’s Powder Cannon 011 can do, but it’s just a moldy old First Generation, isn’t it? I can handle this on my own, so you should really thank me for letting you share the credit. Oh ho ho.”

“…”

“A filthy First Generation should be able to take on another First Generation, but apparently you have so little confidence in yourself that you had to come crying to a cutting-edge Second Generation like me. How sad. Oh ho ho. We may be working together, but make no mistake here. You are nothing more than the backup dancer. You should thank me for even letting you stand on the same stage as me. Make sure – make ''very'' sure! – that none of your shots accidently hit me! Now, the Gatling 033 can shrug off a puny old First Generation attack, but you must know your place on the stage. Honestly, you are bad enough on your own, but that gentleman has some nerve too! I only decided to mess with him a little because I was curious, but he seems to have misinterpreted it and gotten carried away. I should probably teach him who exactly is in charge here. Oh ho ho! Yes, after blowing the Powder Cannon 011 to smithereens right in front of him, I can aim my Gatling cannon at him and have him beg for his life. Oh ho ho ho ho!! Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho!!”

The Princess looked up in her blue bikini.

That Elite had inherited the genes of the 37th, so she was as blunt as any of them.

“Sit. Shut up and wait for me, you mutt.”