Episode 19 — Laser Line 1

Having gotten their hands on a huge haul of materials, the Professor's team was hard at work refitting their gear.

With the official server events still ongoing, only the odd small job trickled in, which meant they could focus on equipment without a worry in the world.

"First up — I've refined all of Mist Shadow's gear into my own style, just as planned."

"Ooh!"

Shadow flushed slightly at the sight of her outfit, transformed from the traditional Japanese kunoichi look into something closer to a form-fitting bodysuit.

"H-hold on a second. I get that it'd be easier to move in, but… this is a bit too—"

"It's fine. It's meant to have modular armor plating attached at each section."

"I-I mean, even so…"

Thinking to herself that she'd better start speaking up about the design side of things from now on, she shifted her gaze toward the weapons.

"Now then… I'll admit, I'm not too well versed in making Japanese swords, so…"

"Ah."

Laid out in their sheaths were two straight blades — nothing like the wakizashi she'd used before, more like a pair of oversized box cutters, if anything. Though the design left something to be desired, the moment she picked one up, a faint golden glow emanated from it, unmistakably marking it as Treasure-grade — the highest tier of equipment.

"Just as you asked — the entire blade is forged from a rare-metal alloy that cuts through shields and armor plating like tofu."

"That's fantastic…!"

For someone who'd been struggling with shield-piercing for so long, this was welcome news indeed.

Reaching for the six-bladed shuriken sitting beside it, she found it emitting a purple glow — Superior grade, one tier below Treasure — despite being a consumable item.

"S-Superior grade?!"

"That's right. What you were using before was…"

"…High-grade."

Consumables of too high a rarity were a real problem for someone as strapped for cash as she was. But if the shuriken she used for mid-range harassment and follow-up attacks were too low-grade, she couldn't make full use of her skills either.

"The price is about the same as what you were using before, so don't worry too much."

"S-still…!"

"I've redesigned it so that if you coat the shuriken in poison, it naturally settles right on the blade edge."

"……!"

"Though unlike a blade, it's an ordinary material — shields and armor plating will still stop it."

Since Shadow had already switched to using her submachine gun for stripping shields at mid-range, she had no complaints there. Strip the shield with the SMG in one hand, throw the poisoned shuriken with the other — simple enough.

Next up was Sister Grave's equipment.

"Hold on, Cuticle. Why on earth would you do this to a nun's habit skirt—!"

"Well, no matter how I look at it, a long habit skirt would just get in the way of someone as heavily loaded as you, mobility-wise, so…!"

"Ngh…!"

The skirt Grave was staring down at now only covered to just above the knee, with slits cut into both sides that ran nearly up to her hip.

Even back when she'd seen Shadow's outfit, she'd wondered — was this Cuticle character projecting his own tastes onto the gear?

Sweating under Grave's suspicious glare, Cuticle pressed on with the explanation.

"For starters, I figured the old setup — mounting the ammo box directly under the machine gun and firing like that — was bad for accuracy."

"Yeah, that was a bit of an issue."

How to route and manage the machine gun's ammo belt had been one of her main headaches for a while now. At that, Cuticle held up a sturdy-looking belt she'd laid over the nun's habit.

"This belt has a powerful magnetic coating on it, so you can mount the machine gun's ammo cans right on both sides of your waist. Naturally, it can also hold grenades and other simple gear with no trouble."

"Ooh, now that I like."

Next, Grave picked up the large-caliber machine gun from ZK Corporation that she normally used. Startled by the sudden golden glow radiating off it, she nearly dropped it.

"No need to be so surprised. My skills have the Professor's seal of approval, you know?"

Certainly, the Professor had hired and kept on this man despite his rather eccentric tastes — which had to mean his actual skill was the real deal.

Nodding, Grave picked the machine gun back up to look it over more closely, then froze.

"The barrels… there are six?"

"Yep. Grave's lifeline is her overwhelming sustained fire and her ability to hold the front line with it. I modified it to bring that out even further."

"And the power source?"

"There's a fusion battery built into the stock, so it's not going to run dry on you anytime soon."

Staring at the six heavy barrels, a fire lit up in Grave's eyes.

"…This is amazing…!"

While she was still lost in admiration for the gun, Cuticle held out a new pair of boots.

"And what did you do to these?"

"Take a look at the soles."

The moment she picked one up and checked the bottom, she got it.

"This is… aircraft tire rubber, isn't it?"

"Yep. The soles are made from three-millimeter-thick spacecraft landing-gear tire rubber, with shock-absorbing and cooling gel injected inside."

"You really don't know when to stop, do you…"

While she was still marveling at it, Cuticle, seeming to indicate there was more, picked up the other boot and slammed the heel down against the table with some force.

"What are you doing?!"

"Watch closely."

The moment the impact hit the heel, there was a clack, and a dagger sprang out from the front of the boot.

"……!?"

"Even fighting with a machine gun in each hand, if an enemy closes to melee range, it gets tricky to respond. This handles that."

"…So I'm supposed to kick them with this?"

"Exactly that."

Leaving Grave behind, still grinning with satisfaction, Cuticle moved on to Whis-Kiss.

"For Miss Kiss, I've—"

"…Did the tires I ordered come in?"

She checked first on whether the large armored-vehicle-grade wheels she'd requested, with bulletproof and cut-resistant properties, had arrived properly.

"Of course they did. We'll swap them in together later."

"Heh heh. In that case…"

Cuticle held out the lever-action shotgun that had been strapped to her own lower back, offering it to Kiss.

"Now — are you really sure about this?"

"Yep. I like lever-actions."

Shadow tilted her head, taking in the impressive black, carbon-bodied, stockless sawed-off shotgun.

"This is actually the sidearm the Professor used to carry around, up until a few years back."

"Wait, seriously?!"

"Miss Kiss said she wanted something for self-defense, so the Professor said to give this a try, and offered to hand it over."

At Cuticle's explanation, Shadow found herself unconsciously fingering the shield module mounted on her own hip. Even if it was just the Professor's spare, Kiss had been given something of his — same as her.

Their attention soon turned toward the Professor himself. Even having worked alongside him, there was still very little they knew about what gear he actually used.

"Professor, how's the new rifle?"

"……."

After holding the newly prepared jet-black rifle for a moment, running his eyes over it bit by bit, the conclusion the Professor arrived at was:

"…The trigger pull is a touch too light."

"By how much?"

"Hm…"

After clicking the trigger a few times to check, the Professor held up four fingers.

"…About four grams."

"Got it. I'll adjust it."

"Isn't that a little too particular?"

At Grave's baffled question, the Professor let out a short laugh.

"Unlike you, sniping is a business where the tiniest of differences can throw off your aim by several meters if you're unlucky. There could well be a case where I'm covering you and that margin of error ends up putting a round in your backside."

"Wh-what?!"

"…I'm joking."

"Grr?!"

Her face flushing, Grave reached to grab him by the collar but managed to hold herself back. Something she'd only just recently come to realize — no matter how many times she pounded on him with her fists, he showed no sign of correcting that particular streak of his.

"Magazine capacity, ten rounds as before. The scope's a custom job, adjustable from 5x to 12x magnification."

"Hmm…"

He deployed the bipod at the front of the barrel onto the table, meticulously checking the angle and contact.

Only after thoroughly examining every last detail did the Professor finally give a nod.

"Just the trigger pull needs redoing and it'll be fine."

"I'll get it checked."

Just as the equipment briefing was wrapping up, Shadow raised her hand.

"I have a question!"

"…What is it."

"Does the Professor always wear that same helmet?"

"Pfft!"

At Shadow's bold question, the other two women burst out laughing. While they snickered away, the Professor fidgeted with his helmet for a moment, then snapped his fingers.

"Cuticle. Show them."

"…Are you sure about that?"

"They're teammates. For now, at least."

"Understood."

The place Cuticle led them to was the men's shower room. Stepping in hesitantly, what they found was a wall panel that slid upward, revealing a shelf lined with rows of helmets in an assortment of designs.

"T-there's so many...!"

"Wow…"

"Heheh…"

Facing their astonishment, the Professor said in his flat, dry tone:

"Satisfied now, ladies?"

Shadow, about to say yes, suddenly paused.

Could this be a chance?

She wasted no time putting a bold plan into action.

"Since we're already here, I'd love to see you wear a different one!"

"Yeah, seriously! You already redid all our gear, so switch it up for a change of pace once in a while!"

Cuticle, catching on to what Shadow was up to, tried to say something, but the Professor stayed silent for a moment, then let out a short laugh and stepped toward the shelf.

"P-Professor?!"

"Don't worry about it. It's not like I'd be showing you anything you haven't already seen a few times, is it?"

"Still… won't this cause problems?"

"I already told you. They're teammates."

"……."

Having said his piece, the Professor stood with his back to them and raised a finger.

"Since we're at it, I'll take requests. Each of you pick out whichever design you like."

"Really?!"

"Wow… what's gotten into you?"

"That one! That one right there!"

Whis-Kiss immediately pointed repeatedly at a helmet with a design straight out of some sentai show, one she'd secretly had her eye on.

Shadow browsed the shelf for a moment before picking one adorned near the ears with an ornament that could've been wings, or maybe antennae.

Grave deliberated for a bit before pointing to one modeled after a medieval knight's helm.

"Now this is tricky. Didn't expect all three of you to pick something completely different."

"……."

For some reason, all three of them found themselves utterly fixated on which one his helmet would end up becoming.

The Professor set the three chosen helmets apart, studied them for a while, then, seeming to make up his mind, reached for one of them.

The one he picked was the one Shadow had chosen.

"…Ah."

"Uu."

"……."

The other two women's expressions visibly darkened.

Shadow, hand pressed to her racing heart, braced herself in anticipation of what was about to happen.

"Heh. Don't tell me you were expecting to see my bare face."

"……!"

Startled, Shadow averted her eyes. The Professor let out a short laugh, turned his back to them, and pressed a button behind the ear of the helmet he was currently wearing, deploying it into its detachable state.

With a click, the helmet came free, and what was revealed from behind was a head of wild, curling black hair, worn shaggy and untamed — the back of someone with a somewhat feral air to him.

As she quietly shifted her footing, trying to catch even a glimpse of his profile, the Professor raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

"Shadow. Best not to do something you can't take responsibility for."

"……!"

A voice clearly different from the one he used while wearing the helmet — low, smooth, carrying a faintly teasing warmth to it. While she stood there dazed for a moment at the sound of it, the Professor put on the helmet she'd chosen and touched behind the ear, sealing it fully into place.

"There. Satisfied now?"

Turning sharply back around, his visor's eyes flashing with their usual glow, his voice returning to its familiar, flat, mechanically-inflected tone — Shadow made no effort to hide the disappointment in her eyes.

"Professor."

"?"

"…Your real voice is a lot nicer to listen to."

"……."

"Couldn't you maybe just turn that voice changer off sometimes?"

At Shadow's words, both Grave and Kiss nodded along in agreement. Brief as it had been, his real voice had been captivating enough to leave that impression.

"…I'll consider it."

"……!"

"Professor?!"

Cuticle, who'd been flatly ignored with silence every time she'd brought this up before, latched onto the hem of the Professor's clothes in indignant protest at this surprisingly favorable answer.

"So you're a man after all, huh, Professor?!"

"Not particularly. I've simply judged that if it helps my teammates psychologically, it's worth considering."

"Ngh…!"

In the oddly charged atmosphere that had settled over the room, the Professor raised a finger to draw their attention again.

"One more thing. I imagine you'll be curious about this, so I'll tell you now, ahead of time…"

"……?"

Tapping his own helmet lightly, the Professor dropped a rather shocking piece of information.

"The personality I have while wearing this helmet is a character I built specifically for contract work."

"So you mean your real personality is completely different from that?"

"That's right. I put on this personality because it's necessary. Which is also why I use the voice changer."

—To be continued—