HEAVY OBJECT:Volume5 Chapter 3

Status: Incomplete

Chapter 3

Part 1

It was 8 PM.

The second day of the shootathlon was over and Mariydi was relaxing in the lounge of the resort hotel known as the Technopic Village. (Her coffee and cake had been prepared by her pharmacist named Stacy.) Alicia sat across from her and asked a question with a blank expression.

“Was it really necessary to go that far?”

“Are you still going on about that?”

“We have received 43 complaints from the management of Olympia Dome. They wish to know why you destroyed those UUV motorboats when they were sent to save you from the attack.”

“I thought they wanted the athletes to have the self defense capabilities to protect themselves. Both from bodyguards and the athletes’ own abilities. It was their fault for being so sloppy in how they used those UUVs.”

“Apparently each of those UUV motorboats costs 700 thousand dollars. You destroyed three of them. The management is requesting we pay for those and for the repairs to the moveable breakwater’s latch that you blew up.”

“If they don’t like it, tell them they should buy insurance next time. I could introduce them to the company my PMC air force works with.”

“That isn’t a bad idea. I think the Blue Area company I use gives you a bonus if you introduce new customers to them.”

After Alicia gave a serious response to Mariydi’s joke, Lucas Westernrose, the director from Catwalk TV, cut in.

“Hello, yes. It is a shame we were interrupted, yes.” The yellow underwater camera that had been made useless during the practice by the jamming signal was sitting on his lap and he was stroking it lightly. “That was such an excellent episode, yes, but the noise in the signal was too strong to air any of the footage, yes. If it had recorded properly, yes, yes, I could have spliced together the footage of the event and that attack and added in some effective background music to make quite a moving show.”

“…So you categorize that attack as an opportunity.”

“At this rate, even the documentary portion will be a waste, yes. Yes, if nothing happens, we have nothing to show, yes.”

While listening to Lucas, Mariydi shook her head in annoyance and spoke to Alicia.

She was returning to the original topic.

“Those UUVs were extras. Who were the original attackers?”

“The Legitimacy Kingdom for sure. We retrieved fingerprints, blood samples, and other information from the corpses you made. We are currently using that information to investigate the Legitimacy Kingdom forces here, but that is nothing more than obtaining confirmation of what we already know.”

It was not a criminal investigation, so they did not need to narrow it down to specific individuals.

Basically, they just had to gain a general idea of what world power was their enemy. That was why Mariydi was not too worried.

To her, it was nothing more than having people she already saw as her enemies undergo a class change to people she could kill with impunity.

Mariydi had saved an enemy athlete from the Information Alliance, but that did not mean she wanted to be a saint who would try to save all athletes and all soldiers equally.

She would save those she could save, but she would kill those she had to kill.

That was how the world worked in the Northern European Restricted Zone where she normally fought.

Meanwhile, the only person more exhausted than that powerful target was her bodyguard.

“Honestly, my boss from my company is mad at me because you decided to go on a rampage on your own. It’s so bad I’m a bit worried about his blood pressure. If you’re going to do something like that, at least invite me along. That way, I can at least do my duty.”

“It’s your own fault.”

“The second day brought your combined ranking up to 3rd, remember? And you were thrown off your normal pace by sticking right behind the person in 1st the entire time, which adds more muscle fatigue you will have to deal with tomorrow,” said Alicia.

“Yes, yes, to be honest, you were too level-headed and in control of everything, yes. You did so well it leaves something to be desired on the emotional side of things, yes. A moving sports story needs some kind of exciting incident, yes.”

“If you’re doing that well, give me a bite of that cake,” said the bodyguard.

“Unfortunately, Stacy brought this for me. The team shares the fees, so you need to ask Alicia since she is in charge of the funds.”

“…”

Alicia glared at the bodyguard and the man raised his hands and shook his head. He was exhausted, but he was not about to argue with that woman who took everything too seriously.

That program of a woman ignored him and said, “The sponsor says your results on the second day were excellent. They do agree with Mr. Westernrose that a bit of drama would be nice, but your excellent results are what matter most to them.”

“So blowing up an armored vehicle and fighting a group of frogmen armed with underwater rifles didn’t count as drama?”

“Anything the camera did not pick up or that cannot be shown does not count. We only care about what can be used for advertisement, not what actually happens.”

“Yes, yes,” agreed Lucas Westernrose.

He must have still been upset thinking about the ratings he could have gotten had he been able to use that footage.

If Mariydi died before the event was over, Alicia would be in trouble since she was in charge of advertising the new rifle, but her expression remained blank.

“The final day tomorrow uses bicycles.”

“That sounds easier than what I’ve had to deal with so far.”

“Hello, yes. As far as the events are concerned, yes, yes, the viewers’ focus peaks on the swimming of the second day, yes, because of the swimsuits, yes, yes. But since you insist on wearing your flight jacket all the way through, yes, you are lacking as far as that is concerned, yes.”

“If you insist on keeping that joke going any longer, you had damn well better be prepared! And the swimsuits draw more ratings than the race that determines the winner? This competition really is all about show business, isn’t it!?”

“Yes, yes, we have suggested before that they move the swimming to the final day, yes.”

“The bicycle event is not easy. For one, it has the greatest distance of the three. You must bike for 120 kilometers, so it wears down your stamina horribly. And all of the muscle fatigue from the previous days remains, so there is a large risk of pulling a muscle,” explained Alicia. “And the sharpshooting is supposedly hardest as well. After all, you must use both hands to aim the sniper rifle at the target while riding the bicycle.”

“…That is not a skill you would ever need on the battlefield.”

“This is a sport,” replied Alicia with the world’s lamest explanation. She continued speaking with her spine stretched out straight like she was performing some sort of exercise. “At any rate, tomorrow is the final day of the shootathlon. Sportsmanship does not matter at all, so please do not make even the slightest mistake so that you can achieve the best advertisement for the sponsor’s new rifle.”

Part 2

Before heading back to her room in the resort hotel, Mariydi stopped by Stacy’s place. The Technopic Village that Mariydi stayed in was meant for the athletes, so her support members had to use a different hotel. Since every athlete had dozens of other people supporting them, there really was no other option.

That woman who was easily swept up in fads looked delighted at her small visitor.

“What are you here for? Do you want to give me your autograph?”

“Do you have anything I can eat for a late-night snack? Something like a hot dog would be great.”

“Oh? I thought you just finished eating dinner?”

“I’m not going to eat it now. Would you rather I wake you up in the middle of the night when I get hungry? I’m not allowed to eat or drink anything from the normal stores, remember?”

“Hmm. I guess you are a growing girl.”

“…Where do you think you’re looking?”

“But will the nutrients actually go where you want them?”

“Again, where do you think you’re looking!?”

Stacy did not seem fazed by Mariydi’s anger. She headed back into her hotel room and began looking through a refrigerator that was much too big to have come with the room.

“You said a hot dog would be fine, right?”

“It just has to be something to prevent me from being too hungry to sleep. It doesn’t have to be all that substantial.”

“It would be simplest to just take a sleeping pill, but…Hm?”

Stacy let out an odd voice while sticking her head into the refrigerator and rummaging through it.

Mariydi frowned.

“What is it?”

“I’m out of lettuce.”

“I don’t need any. You just need a bun and a sausage for a hot dog.”

“No!!” Despite it being 10 at night, Stacy let out a cry that rivaled the roars of the crowd in the stadium. “Lettuce is important. Incredibly important! With just a bun, butter, and a sausage, it will be way too greasy!! And then if you add ketchup and mustard, you have something that doesn’t even count as food!!”

“I was just asking for something that is anything like a hot dog.”

“Without the moist lettuce, it isn’t a hot dog!! You can’t just replace it with cabbage or something! Oh, no. I need to head to the team HQ and secure some supplies!!”

“Just give me a sausage!! That’s enough!!” shouted Mariydi, but Stacy ignored her.

She grabbed Mariydi’s hand and half-dragged her out of the hotel room.

When the bodyguard who was waiting outside in the hallway saw them, he asked, “What happened?”

“I’m learning something about Stacy’s household preferences. Dammit!!”

“…If possible, I’d like something for myself as well. Late night bodyguard work makes me hungry.”

Stacy completely ignored their conversation and continued on through the hotel with Mariydi in tow.

It seemed each team had their equipment stored in rented storage rooms located in the hotel’s basement. Capitalist Corporations guards were deployed there as well.

Stacy rummaged through an industrial refrigerator that was practically a small refrigerated room. The look in her eyes only returned to normal once she found the lettuce.

“…Hoo. Now I can make a perfect hot dog.”

“Have you completely forgotten your initial goal?” said Mariydi in shock as they headed for the elevator.

Stacy’s room was on the 20th floor, but the elevator stopped at a floor before that. It was the floor the lounge was located on. The bodyguard who was wearing a bulletproof jacket immediately raised his guard, but Mariydi found an attack unlikely. There was close to zero chance of someone gaining information on an unscheduled outing like this.

But something Mariydi was truly not expecting appeared on the other side of the elevator door.

“We can’t have that. The Technopics is full of plots and attacks, so I will escort you,” said Alicia with a huge smile.

She was trying to enter the elevator while clinging to the arm of the PR manager of the sponsor company.

Mariydi Whitewitch had continually fought in the long-drawn out wars of the Northern European Restricted Zone where the use of Objects was banned. Her expression would remain completely unchanged even while sitting atop an enemy soldier and smashing his head open with a large rock. But this sight caused her mind to go completely blank.

Alicia’s eyes met Mariydi’s as the girl’s mouth silently flapped open and closed. She then spotted the bodyguard and Stacy on the elevator. It was just an instant, but her smile definitely froze over.

Would her pride or her sense of business win out?

As a true member of the Capitalist Corporations, she chose the path that led to money.

No one had pressed the close button, but the elevator door started to close on its own. Alicia grabbed it and forced it back open.

By then her smile had completely returned and she was once more nestling up against the young PR manager from the sponsor company at the ideal angle and with the ideal strength.

“Don’t you think there isn’t enough to drink at the bar? I may not look it, but I know quite a bit about cocktails. If you like, I could make some for you in my room.”

“E-excuse me. Excuse me a moment! You are Miss Whitewitch, the athlete my company is supporting, correct!?”

While Alicia continued to lean up against him, the PR manager spoke to Mariydi.

With a suspicious look, she said, “Yes?”

“I have just been assaulted with praises for 3 hours straight. I’m a bit afraid my internal sense has been thrown off balance. If you don’t mind, could you insult me so I can realign myself?”

(As much as you act like you don’t, I take it you actually like having a beauty like Alicia clinging to you like that.)

With that thought, Mariydi looked at the man with a horribly icy look.

“So you’re some *** of a mental *** bastard who can’t get a boner without looking at a girl holding a giant gun? Get back to your dismal house and start licking a doll or something.”

The PR manager crouched down facing into a corner of the elevator.

“…Sorry. That was a bit more than I was expecting.”

“It was a request from my sponsor. I had to go all out.”

“Oh? If that is what you like, I could insult you too.”

The elevator stopped at another floor and Alicia and the PR manager headed down the hallway. After a few steps, Alicia turned back toward the elevator and threatened Mariydi and the others with a horribly obscene gesture using her thumb.

The door closed again and an awkward silence fell over the elevator.

“…I guess there really is no business you can easily make money in.”

Mariydi’s muttered words touched on one of the major truths of the Capitalist Corporations.

Part 3

The next day, Mariydi Whitewitch went through her usual routine of using a fist to silence the hard rock coming from her alarm clock, drinking some carbonated water, taking a lukewarm shower, giving up her battle with the dryer, donning her yellow and black flight jacket, and moving the chair and magazine rack away from the door.

With an expression like he could not stand it, her bodyguard said, “I might be a bit more motivated in my job if you would show some sign you trusted me. This job will be over soon, so I would like at least some nice memories.”

“So you want me to thank you and call you ‘big brother’? You’re such a pervert.”

“!?”

“…What?”

“N-nothing. Anyway, I’ll just be doing my job. I just hope I can put this final day behind me without too much trouble.”

“…Oh, well my sixth sense is warning me of danger,” said Mariydi offhandedly while looking down the hallway in both directions. “I have to eat Stacy’s breakfast, right? Should I just wait here?”

“If you want some nutrition blocks, I have some here.”

“Those things just provide you with the nutrients without filling your stomach. Don’t you feel like you’re losing out that way? On the battlefield is one thing, but this is a safe country where food is everywhere.”

“Well, they taste better than military rations. And I would hesitate to call Olympia Dome a safe country.”

“I overslept,” muttered Stacy as she pushed a room service cart their way. She did indeed look as if she had only just gotten out of bed. “So the menu for today’s breakfast was thrown together at the last second. It’s centered on toast and a salad. But I forced the needed nutrients into it, so don’t worry.”

“…I’m a bit worried about what you mean by ‘forced’.”

“Hm. I’m thankful I have these commercial nutrition blocks.”

Mariydi tried to grab the nutrition block the bodyguard was holding, but Stacy grabbed her by the back of the neck with a smile.

Mariydi gave up but continued a small bit of resistance by lightly glaring at Stacy.

“At the very least, tell me what you mixed in.”

“Hmm, do you know what ascorbic acid is?”

“Uuhh…!?”

Since this caused Mariydi to flinch back, it seemed her knowledge was focused mainly on things related to war.

Still smiling, Stacy said, “Ah ha ha. It’s just vitamin C. Even if you have to explain something, you can alter the effect of that explanation based on the words you choose.”

As Stacy messed with Mariydi like that, Alicia walked over from the elevator hall.

This was after their encounter the night before.

They all secretly focused on Alicia to see what she would say about it.

“Good morning. Are you ready for me to go over the schedule with you?”

“Nothing changed!?”

“Well, we were wrong to expect anything cute out of such a boring woman.”

“Hmm, Alicia doesn’t seem to mind that she’s wasting the time she has before she is too old to get married.”

They all gave voice to their varied opinions, but Alicia stood as tall as ever.

Part 4

After finishing breakfast, Mariydi walked around the outer circumference of the fried egg shaped Olympia Dome. She even walked through the pedestrian area of the seven bridges of the Bifröst Arch which was one of the prime sightseeing spots.

None of the main events had begun yet, so the sightseers were still scattered out among the souvenir shops rather than in the event grounds. Children swinging around helium balloons and couples wearing T-shirts modeled after group sport uniforms were walking about. A youth who may have been looking forward to the final day of the shootathlon aimed his cameras at Mariydi. She prayed he was not just a pervert.

“I didn’t take you for the type to go sightseeing,” said Mariydi’s bodyguard, but she did not seem to care.

“I just wanted to see what is so enjoyable about it,” she replied while watching the glittering waterway spreading out beyond the handrail. “No real service is provided. It’s just a place. And yet people are willing to pay money to go there. In my time in the Northern European Restricted Zone, I have killed people in the wars caused by that type of flow of money. The total sum of money gathered in Olympia Dome is probably more than the entire financial activity related to the Northern European Restricted Zone. I wanted to see with my own eyes just what value these places have.”

“Did you find your answer?”

“I’ve learned that a lot of people have a different sense of value from me.”

No strong emotion could be seen in Mariydi’s eyes.

All that was there was displeasure over being unable to understand something.

She felt no curiosity.

With those relatively emotionless eyes, she stated her opinion.

“It makes me feel uncomfortable to know that I am a part of it as an athlete. I have a feeling I have no business carrying the burden of a portion of that economic activity when I do not even understand its value. But nevertheless, my actions have an effect on the ratings and intensify negotiations over broadcasting rights. It may not be the same as what I am used to, but this is a battlefield that revolves around economic activity. I would be lying if I said I did not feel a responsibility to comprehend the true nature of this competition so I can play my role better.”

Mariydi’s expression was perfectly serious as she said that.

In her opinion, one should completely crush an enemy and it was a common courtesy to give your all against any enemy.

Stacy the pharmacist had previously joked about Mariydi being at “that age” while at the Bifröst Arch.

Coincidentally, a similar opinion floated up in the bodyguard’s mind.

(The value of the athletes here can change just by overtaking another athlete in popularity, so the cameras are often attempting to get shots that look like something from a pin-up model’s image video. The design of the uniforms often takes that into account. But it may be better not to mention that to someone her age that likes everything to be nice and clean.)

The bodyguard kept his mouth shut based on the double reasoning that real adults explained away their own weaknesses using the reasoning that staying silent was the adult thing to do.

His bodyguard PMC had been hired to resolve any problems, but he was not about to cause extra problems that could be avoided.

Part 5

After using up the rest of her free time, Mariydi headed outside the Technopic Village resort hotel. She was headed out to tune up the sports bicycle she would be using for the third day of the shootathlon.

But…

“Catwalk TV sure is heavily equipped this time. I think you stand out more than I do.”

“Yes, yes, yes. We lost such excellent footage due to the jamming last time. Yes, we want to be perfectly defended against that this time, yes,” said Lucas Westernrose while using hand signals to give instructions to several cameramen who were carrying devices large enough one would think they could shoot through a tank’s armor.

At first glance, it sounded as if they were enthusiastic about their work, but…

“Are you that intent on filming me getting shot?”

“Hello? We are not so imprudent that we would use a performer as bait to get footage of a lion. Yes, but if we do not keep things at the line of the performer very nearly getting eaten, we would not have a show, yes, yes.”

While operating a handheld device, Alicia broke straight through that conversation with a mechanical voice.

“Basically, you will be using the kind of bicycle used for road races. It is against the rules to attach any electronic devices such as sensors or gyros. But we have received permission to add weights to aid in manual control, so it should be much less likely to fall over than a normal bicycle.”

Mariydi carefully observed the bicycle that had J-shaped handlebar grips and was specially designed to incline forward.

“The back wheel has 7 gears and the pedal axle has 5 for a total of 35 different options. However, repeated extreme gear changes over a short period could cause the chain to come loose. You can only learn its limits via experience.”

“Okay. So you’re telling me to intentionally mess up during practice?” Mariydi swung her right leg up and over the back wheel to straddle the bicycle frame. “I can be pretty flashy with it, but is this from a sponsor too?”

“It was provided by one, but a fairly low rank one. As a general rule, the size of the sponsor’s name on your flight jacket directly correlates to the priority we give that sponsor. You need not forcibly appeal to the abilities of the bicycle. Focus primarily on the rifle.”

“…So I have to figure the specifics out for myself,” muttered Mariydi in annoyance as she began pedaling that high quality bicycle that probably cost more than 10,000 dollars.

A Catwalk TV cameraman followed behind Mariydi filming her from some kind of electric unicycle.

They were on a large circular cycling course located just outside the central dome facility of Olympia Dome.

The Technopics was a competition in which many interests crossed paths and it was largely functioned as a proxy war, but that cycling course was quite a comfortable place for Mariydi with the ocean breeze wrapping around her.

(Dammit… Maybe I should just run off…)

Mariydi gave a small bit of serious thought to an idea that could very well make her a wanted criminal, but she still had enough sense to realize it was an unrealistic idea. She repeatedly changed gears to intentionally knock the chain loose, checked on the quickest method to fix the chain, and let go with both hands to mime holding a rifle while pedaling. Like that, she gathered all the information she needed for the actual event. It was tedious work and she was doubtful any kind of narration played over it could turn it into a profitable television show.

Her bodyguard asked a question from an electric machine similar to a golf cart running alongside her.

“How are you feeling?”

“That’s one horribly lame vehicle you’re riding around.”

“Well, this is a cycling course. You’re only allowed to use certain types of vehicles. Or would you prefer I sit behind you on the bike?”

“It’s a road race bike, so it has no room for anyone else. But if you want to have your crotch destroyed by the back wheel, I won’t stop you.”

“So what’s it like trying to shoot while pedaling a bike? I just can’t imagine trying it.”

“It’s going to be difficult to keep my balance while peering down the scope.”

“Yeah, humans use their sight to keep their balance. I guess it’s the same as how it gets a lot harder to balance on one leg if you close your eyes.”

“Don’t act like you understand. Closing your eyes just cuts off all information. Peering down a scope gives you a completely new set of information. Pedaling a bike while aiming for a target in a perpendicular direction is going to be a real pain in the ass.”

“…Well, I’m just glad I don’t have to do it.”

Mariydi was tempted to shoot him for how casual he was about it, but unfortunately she did not have a firearm on her.

As she continued pedaling the bicycle, Alicia spoke over the piezoelectric receiver in her ear.

“The final day of the shootathlon begins at 2 PM. Direct sunlight is at its strongest during that time period. Please be careful.”

“What, are you telling me to put on sunscreen?”

“I am talking about your stamina,” replied Alicia.

Mariydi laughed scornfully at that.

The set cycling course was 120 kilometers long. She supposed that must qualify as heavy labor in a safe country protected by an Object.

The Northern European Restricted Zone had no such guaranteed safety, so it was not too unusual to be told to run over 300 kilometers across an unpaved mountain path.

Alicia had not noticed her expression because they were speaking via radio, but the bodyguard could see it.

“You sure are confident,” he said.

The look on her face must have appeared charming because she heard the sound of the Catwalk TV camera lens adjusting its focus.

Mariydi ignored it and replied, “I simply haven’t found anything to worry about in the specs of the equipment. If I’m worried about anything, it’s about possible interference during the event itself.”

“Once it begins, there will be no large scale interference. It would be simple enough to pull off, but any mistake would be caught by countless cameras and bring international shame on them. Also, anyone with an interest in interfering also wants their own athlete to do well. If they go too far, the event itself could be cancelled,” explained the bodyguard in a tone so cheerful it sounded like he would start whistling at any moment. “The shootathlon ends today. Once the results are recorded, they will have no more reason to interfere. And it would be difficult for them to manage anything during the event itself.”

“Your point?”

“That the most dangerous time is right now. If we can get through this safely, the risk will be almost entirely gone.”

The large camera suddenly moved in closer as if it had been waiting for those words.