Episode 5 — Sister Heavy Arms 2



"By the way, don't think I've seen your face before. Where'd you transfer in from?"
An NPC who looked like he'd been around a while stopped the Professor just as he was settling into the guard post.
For a split second, he genuinely considered just shooting them both — but instead scratched his head and grinned sheepishly.
"Ah, right, forgot to mention it — got orders from the Druid Union branch last night to transfer over here. Hope we get along."
"Oh, that's all? Poor guy."
Apparently this was a company known for arbitrary reassignments and near-tyrannical treatment from higher-ups, because the two NPCs just gave him a pitying look and stepped into the elevator.
The moment the doors closed, the Professor drew his pistol and shot out the surveillance cameras he'd already scoped out in advance.
"Smooth sailing so far."
He was about to shoot out the lock to break into the holding block when he noticed a drawer built into the table where the guards had been sitting, and holstered his gun instead.
"Now, where would it be..."
After opening a few drawers and rifling through them, he found a guard-issue keycard rolling around in the bottommost one. He swiped it across the door to the holding block, and with a soft beep, the door slid smoothly open.
"Open sesame... heh."
Walking slowly into the block, he scanned the cells out of the corner of his eye. Each cell held the same layout — a respawn unit, a bed, a toilet and sink.
"No connected users, huh..."
Getting locked up in an NPC security company's holding cell typically meant a certain amount of level loss for the duration of the sentence. Small mercy that time kept ticking even while logged out, he supposed.
He noticed a human silhouette in the cell furthest in and approached.
Sitting on the bed, grumbling to herself, was a woman whose surprisingly voluptuous figure couldn't quite be hidden even by the prison uniform, with striking long, curly red hair spilling down.
He rapped his baton lightly against the cell bars, and she lifted her head to look over.
"What?"
At her irritable, hostile tone, he let out a short laugh and silently swiped the keycard to open the cell door.
"?"
"I'm here to rescue you."
At the unfamiliar guard's flat, toneless voice, she eyed him suspiciously. Seeing this, the Professor sighed and revealed his identity.
"I'm the mercenary known as the Professor. I've been hired by Mary's Children to get you out."
"Ah."
Finally grasping the situation, she got to her feet, still wary, and shuffled out of the cell.
"You're the Professor?"
She looked him over, unable to quite match him to the reputation she'd heard, but followed his lead out of the holding block anyway.
"The evidence storage is on B2. We'll grab your gear there and get out."
"Wait a second."
She grabbed his shoulder, gritting her teeth as if she had something to say.
"I've got a proposal for you."
"?"
"Mind if we trash this whole city on the way out?"
"...What?"
Her eyes burned with fierce hatred. Apparently just fleeing quietly wasn't something her personality could tolerate.
"Refused."
"Come on!"
"Even with the low numbers here during official-match season, there's no guarantee there aren't reserve forces. We're extracting immediately."
"...!"
Puffing her cheeks out in irritation, she nonetheless followed his lead, reluctantly climbing into the elevator behind him as he walked ahead without another word.
Down on B2, the Professor dropped the NPCs guarding the storage vault with a few pistol shots, opened the door with a card he'd taken off one of them, and beckoned her in.
"There. Grab your gear and get out. We're leaving the moment you're done."
"........."
A moment later, she emerged fully geared up — and shoved past the Professor as he moved to guide her, walking off on her own.
"...? Where are you going?"
"Whatever you say, I'm going to wreck this city as much as I possibly can before I leave."
"........."
He caught her by the wrist, but — unfortunately — her raw physical strength in-game apparently exceeded his, and he ended up being the one dragged along instead.
"Hey, wait. Stop."
"Hmph! Make me!"
"Ngh..."
After a moment's thought, the Professor concluded that the fastest way to get this stubborn woman moving was simply to indulge her.
"...Fine. I'll cooperate. But some preparation is required first."
"Huh? You're more reasonable than I expected."
"Not particularly. It's just that you're my rescue target, so I have no choice."
"Still. From what I heard, I figured you'd just grab me by the collar and drag me off."
She eyed him with visible curiosity. The Professor let out a small sigh.
"Unfortunately, I do fancy myself something of a gentleman."
"Huh."
"Anyway, we need to make a stop on B3 first."
"Why? Can't we just go tear things up now?"
Grave brandished her machine gun proudly, but the Professor just gave a short laugh and shook his head.
"B3 has the NPC holding block."
"So?"
"Unlike users, who need to be logged in to be extracted, NPCs stay put once they're locked in there."
"Sure, obviously."
She looked bored, as if he were stating the obvious, but he raised a finger.
"If we free all of them, then seize the armory on the second floor above ground and arm them—"
"Oh!"
The two of them headed back to the elevator, this time bound for B3. The moment the doors opened, the Professor moved to shoot the guards on watch — but once again, she shoved him aside first.
"Out of my way!"
"?!"
The NPCs on guard duty flinched, apparently recognizing her, and drew their weapons—
"You bastards are in for it now, you no-good scum!"
The satisfying roar of her machine gun echoed through the underground space, and the guards crumpled to the ground, riddled with bullets in an instant.
"Aah, that felt good. Yeah, I really can't go without this thing..."
She hugged her machine gun close, savoring some strange sense of catharsis, then tilted her head toward the Professor.
"What are you standing around for! Hurry up and free those NPCs!"
"........."
Ten minutes later, once the guards had managed to more or less stabilize the suspected terror-bombing of the city hall with the help of some worker NPCs and returned to headquarters, what awaited them was—
"Freedom at last!"
"We're taking this city! Chaaarge!"
The prisoners had armed themselves with batons, shotguns, and pistols from the security armory and burst out, gunning down the returning guards as they went.
As Grave moved to charge out and join the surge of prisoners, the Professor stepped in front of her and shook his head.
"What now? Weren't we supposed to be tearing this place up together?"
"There's one thing I need to make clear first."
"?"
Against the backdrop of the prisoners' roaring shouts, the Professor calmly pulled out a device and brought up the screen. On it was displayed the deposit and total fee for the contract to rescue Sister Grave.
"...Nice markup you've got there."
"You know my franchise, I assume?"
"...!"
"There's just one small issue with this figure."
She tilted her head, not quite following.
"The job I accepted was, strictly speaking, a 'rescue operation.' What you're currently requesting is a separate job entirely — 'sabotage of a city.'"
"...!"
"Which means fulfilling your request will incur an additional fee. Is that all right with you?"
Her expression twisted, visibly. The Professor was exactly the type of person she despised most — someone with not a shred of human warmth, a filthy opportunist who calculated everything in terms of gain and loss.
"...And you call yourself a man?"
"Gender is irrelevant. I'm strictly discussing the terms of a contract."
"Ugh—!"
"If you insist on this to the very end, I'll have no choice but to abandon this contract entirely. Though if that's what you'd prefer..."
He tucked the device away and pulled out his communication device instead.
"...What are you doing?"
"Notifying Mary's Children that I'm withdrawing from the contract. Right after that, I'll inform Father Masquerade that you've escaped custody."
"You— you're seriously doing this?!"
"That's what it means for me to abandon a contract, Sister Grave. Everything reverts to its original state, and I withdraw as well. That's all there is to it."
She glared at him, grinding her teeth for a moment, before apparently making up her mind and releasing her grip on his collar, setting him down.
"...ne."
"...?"
"Fine, I said! You cheapskate bastard. I'll just pay the damn money, all right—!"
"Thank you for your business."
"So, how much do you want?"
The moment she saw the figure displayed on his device, her fist swung and clocked him right in the helmet.
"You— you— you damn thief!"
"...Ngh. That hurt."
"Do you even call yourself human?! How can you do this?!"
"Not particularly. Unlike attacking a single target or building, attacking an entire city inevitably carries corresponding risk and resource consumption. Naturally, that has to be billed accordingly."
Grinding her teeth, she thought it over for a moment, let out a small sigh, and nodded.
"Fine. Fine, damn it... but! I want one thing made clear."
"...?"
"I really, truly hate you."
Delivering that declaration with a cold, dismissive expression, she looked down at him. The Professor dusted himself off and stood up.
"That's a shame to hear."
"What?"
"...Because I happen to like people like you."
"?!"
At what sounded almost like a confession, her face flushed red for a moment, and she swung a fist at him again — which he carefully dodged this time.
"You— you— quit saying weird things!"
"...Nothing particularly weird about it."
"Th-then what did you mean by it?!"
"...I'll leave that as no comment."
"?!" "Seems more interesting that way, for now."
"Are you serious?!"
Just as she went to grab his collar again, a bullet whizzed past her face.
Both of them flinched and turned to look — the security NPCs had managed to cobble together a defensive line to hold back the surging prisoners. And from the direction the shot had come, a group of what were probably Father Masquerade's reserve users were closing in.
"Damn it! Sister Grave's broken out?!"
"That's him! That's the Professor! Mary's Children's doing?!"
"Shoot! We're taking him down now!"
Watching the users charging toward them, Sister's grin only deepened.
The Professor sighed quietly and murmured to her, low.
"Thirty minutes. Better assume the driver won't wait a second longer than that."
"...Got it."
Just as she took her firing stance and pulled the trigger, the Professor leapt lightly up onto the ledge behind the security headquarters' signboard and drew his sniper rifle.
"Masquerade boys! I'm heading over to Mary's Children as of today! Rub your heads on the ground and stay quiet if you don't want to end up full of holes!"
"........." "You damn traitor! You're a goddamn orphan — after everything we raised you up to be, this is how you repay us?!"
"You were just planning to use me!"
"As if! I'd love to see how far Mary's Children trusts a traitor like you! Not that you'll ever make it there anyway!"
Gritting her teeth, she raked her machine gun across the Masquerade user leading the charge who'd been berating her, and his shield rang out like a drum being struck before finally melting away.
Startled, he frantically pounded the activation button on his shield module — but was riddled with bullets and gone in an instant.
"All right, next!"
"D-damn it! We can't handle these two!"
Users too weak to even participate in official matches stood no chance against a named official-match veteran like her — and behind her stood a sniper even official-match named users were reluctant to face.
Just as the situation seemed like it might wrap up easily, one of the Masquerade users stepped forward from the group.
"Sister Grave..."
"...You're—?!"
—To be continued—