Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume9 Chapter 2 (section)

===Part 5===

There were piles of trash even among the countless high-rise buildings of western Lost Angels. For example, there was a garbage dump at one corner of an intersection. A bearded man lay face up, practically buried in the piles of black garbage bags that were probably no longer used anywhere else in the world.

His former dreadful and impressive aura was gone. An '''RC Girl''' may have been flying a toy around because she held a remote control while looking up into the blue sky, but not even she paid the man any heed.

The man’s former subordinate gave an exasperated comment.

“You are still in the western area?”

“Shut up… This is my territory, my turf, my domain. Dammit, who’s swimming in that rooftop pool now? Is it Kenny? Or maybe Rob? I’ll find whoever it was that stole my stuff and fill them with holes.”

It may have been this unpredictability that had allowed him to live this long. He had been the boss, so they never would have thought to find him buried in a pile of trash.

That was all it was.

Once they corrected their image of him, he would likely be found by the Mustard Cowboy soldiers before the long hand of the clock made a full circle, receive a bullet between the eyes before it made a second circle, and be thrown out into the ocean before it made a third.

“It would be best if you left the city and quickly,” said his former friendly subordinate.

“Are you mocking me? Listen. I’m putting together a plan for a comeback. I’m not gonna die here. Why? Because it isn’t my time to die yet, goddammit! First, I’ll get my hands on a gun. I can just punch someone around here and take one!!”

“What do you hope to accomplish with a 9mm bullet?”

“If you want to know, then come with me. I’ll show you the kind of luxury you’ll never find in the tax-funded lifestyle of a soldier. C’mon!! If you’re looking for George Coral, he’s right over herrrrre!! If you’ve got a problem with that, then come face meeeeee!!!!!!”

As soon as the man stood on the top of the trash heap and gave a roar, something happened.

“Will do.”

With that casual comment, Heivia crashed a stolen four-wheel drive vehicle into the trash heap by the intersection.

He did so at full speed and without touching the brakes.

With a great crash, the piled-up black trash bags were knocked every which way like bowling pins.

George Coral, the kingpin at the top, flew through the air and slammed heavily into the vehicle’s roof. The group of '''School Trip Students''' crossing a nearby crosswalk in a line of boys and a line of girls all widened their eyes in surprise.

Heivia was filled with excitement.

“Ha ha! That tech-illiterate digital exhibitionist’s smartphone was a lot of help. I never thought we’d find the idiot this quickly!!”

A '''College Girl in a Monokini''' intentionally tripped in feigned surprise and made sure the friction with the ground slide her swimsuit down, but unfortunately, Heivia did not have time to go along with her exhibitionism. After reminding himself he could use the internet to see her changing any time he wanted, he focused on the task at hand.

After all, the man who had fallen on the roof managed to jump down as if rolling off the back of the vehicle and he had started making a run for it as soon as he landed on the asphalt.

He was getting away.

“What the hell!? The guy’s still alive and kicking!!”

“You hit the pile of trash, not him! Backup, backup! Run into him and break his hip. As long as you don’t kill him, we can still get him to talk!!”

Obeying Millia Newburg’s fairly cruel instructions, Heivia threw the vehicle into reverse with the tires screeching against the asphalt.

The shocked bearded man frantically changed direction and climbed onto the scaffolding of a building under construction.

Despite the sound of bending metal and of a heavy impact, the four-wheel drive vehicle missed its target.

George Coral was running up the scaffolding. He was well-built despite being a former leader.

“Oh, honestly! We can’t do anything in this thing!”

“We have to chase after him like monkeys? What a pain in the ass!!”

“No, we can leave this ‘aerial battle’ to the newbie. We’ll grab another vehicle and pursue on the surface. Whether it’s providing support or cutting off his escape, there has to be more we can do.”

As Millia instructed Heivia, she brought the radio to her mouth.

“You heard me, Putana! Chase him down in that off-road motorcycle you like so much!!”

As soon as she spoke, the roar of an engine passed over the four-wheel drive vehicle.

It did not pass “by” it.

The off-road motorcycle used the upward sloping road to make the kind of large jump seen at a circus, passed over the four-wheel drive vehicle’s roof, and landed on the scaffolding.

“Wow. I guess she is a Pilot Elite after all.”

“But why is Quenser clinging to her back?”

“He volunteered to keep an eye on her. He’d be too scared otherwise. He’s the one she would want revenge against, so I bet he doesn’t want to let her out of his sight to prevent any surprise attacks.”



The construction scaffolding was narrow.

The building’s wall and the pillars of metal pipes shot by at tremendous speed only fifty centimeters to either side. They easily drove up the long, narrow metal panels placed diagonally instead of stairs.

“Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god!”

“Teacher, why are you even on my bike?”

They were three stories up.

George Coral had relaxed once he had escaped the vehicle, but he stiffened in shock when he turned toward the engine noise behind him.

Putana Highball showed no mercy.

She safely drove through and blew away the professional soldier who had become a gang leader.

The bearded man’s arms and legs flailed wildly, but doubt and fear filled him as the shock of landing never came.

His muscular body had flown over the scaffolding and into empty air. He had broken through the net meant to keep people from falling, slowed down because of it, and finally fell to the ground below.

After confirming that, Putana opened the throttle of her off-road motorcycle and unhesitatingly jumped down from the building’s scaffolding.

A three-story freefall began.

As Quenser flew through the air, he felt a chill on his spine when he saw a '''Worker''' clinging to a telephone pole at eye level. That had reminded him just how high up they were.

The pressure in his stomach from the fall was different from that of simple acceleration, so the student let out a scream.

Putana pressed the back wheel down as she accurately landed the motorcycle right next to George Coral’s head where he had fallen ahead of them and did not get back up. She forcefully swerved around to turn the light motorcycle’s front wheel toward the bearded man’s head. With fine control of the brakes, she stopped at the last second as if lightly biting his head between the tire and the ground.

At this point, it was no different from pressing the muzzle of a gun against his forehead.

“Do as I say,” calmly instructed the girl. “Otherwise, I will splatter your brains on the ground here.”

“…”

Tears filled George Coral’s eyes and he heard two short horn blasts.

A station wagon stopped nearby.

He heard several doors open and close and then a woman in a bikini top and baggy cargo pants walked up with a smile on her face.

“There technically are Faith Organization police in this city, so hurry and load him up. …Now, then. How long a day this will be is entirely dependent on how patient you are, Mr. George Coral.”

“Uhh… You pieces of shit…”

The bearded man breathed out, his limbs went limp, and his eyes squeezed shut.

It seemed his return to stardom in Lost Angels was still a long way off.