Chapter 92

The work of modifying Ciel into a combat agent progressed steadily.

After spending a few days taking apart, chewing on, savoring, and enjoying the sample parts bought from the Android parts shop, Miyu created several test products.

“Um, I really don’t know if this will be okay.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll take responsibility.”

Of course, modifying Ciel, a household Android, into a combat Android with hacking capabilities could cause problems.

But well, why should I care about that kind of thing?

Anyway, if I just order it, the Ministry of Justice team will somehow poke through the legal loopholes here and there, eventually getting the government’s OK sign.

Besides, though it was a bit different in nature, there had been a similar case before.

Once, a third-generation heir of a certain conglomerate became obsessed with Androids.

He spent tens of millions of Credits to custom-order a high-performance love doll modeled after his ideal character from an animation.

He liked it so much that he even declared he would marry it.

Naturally, his parents were exasperated.

So to change their son’s mind, they tried getting angry, sent him to counseling with experts, and tried bribing him with all sorts of gifts—but in the end, they failed to break his stubbornness.

As the saying goes, no parent can win against their child.

Unable to tolerate having a robot as a daughter-in-law, they mobilized the corporation’s entire legal department to poke at the gaps in the law, managed to stick a Civilian ID tag on the love doll, and somehow got the marriage approved.

If only the ending had been that the two of them lived happily ever after like Pygmalion and Galatea, blessed by Venus…

…but the farce ended with the man growing tired of her and abandoning his love-doll wife.

Well, in any case.

The important thing in this story was the fact that, when people with money and power flexed their strength, the law could stretch or shrink like a rubber band.

If even some ordinary diamond-spoon brat could throw a tantrum and somehow get the law changed, then why couldn’t I?

Modifying a single Maid Android into a combat type was easier than eating porridge.

Hm? You say it’s not easy?

No, I’ll emphasize it again—for me, it’s easy.

It’s just not easy for my staff.

Anyway.

Once I reassured Miyu that there was no need to worry about those kinds of issues at all, she finally felt at ease and began working.

And since she realized she could freely adjust Ciel’s specs with her own hands, she seemed to relax even more.

“T-Then, let’s start with the power pack…!”

Miyu seemed to have taken quite a liking to the fact that she was challenging a new field.

With a strangely excited expression, she presented her creations to Ciel.

The first thing to install among them was the power pack.

It was the basic device that allowed an Android without Nanomachines to use modules.

“It’s bigger than what I saw in the shop.”

“T-That was a civilian-use product…”

The power packs sold on the market were merely devices that allowed one to use civilian-use modules.

But what Ciel needed now was the ability to use Adaptee-use [Combat Modules], regardless of whether they were [Normal] or [Arcane] types.

So, naturally, to achieve that level of performance, the power pack had to be bigger—at least, that was Miyu’s explanation.

“T-The only reason it’s smaller is because I combined the Socket HUB and the power pack in my own way…”

“I see. Good work.”

“Hehe…”

I didn’t know much about that field, so I just went along with it.

Even if Miyu didn’t like Ciel, she wasn’t the type to mess around with this kind of work, so I decided to trust her.

After all, if it was made by the world’s greatest genius, it would naturally have great performance.

However, the problem arose from a single thoughtless remark that Ciel made at that moment.

“It’s not really that ‘cute,’ is it? Ahaha, I guess it can’t be helped~”

A line spoken half as a joke.

Even to my eyes, Miyu’s original power pack was far from ‘cute’ in appearance.

It was the kind of design that would look right at home under a car hood.

However—that one sentence…

To Miyu, whose definition of ‘cute’ differed from that of others, it seemed to stab her in the heart like a dagger.

“N-Not cute…? This…?”

Her pupils trembled.

Her lips quivered in shock.

For Miyu, ‘cuteness’ meant ‘performance,’ and it was her absolute standard.

Even Ciel, who still retained knowledge as a Transmigrator, belatedly realized she had touched Miyu’s reverse scale and hurried to fix it.

“M-Miyu-nim. Ciel was just joking~. Please don’t mind it~”

“N-No… It’s cute…”

But it seemed Miyu’s ears could no longer hear her.

In her mind, the words ‘Not cute!’ were probably echoing like in a cave.

Miyu gathered up the prototypes and stood up.

She hugged the things she had so excitedly brought over and headed for the door, her shoulders drooping dejectedly.

“C-Cute…”

Muttering that, Miyu returned to the workshop deeper inside the dormitory, leaving only Ciel and me behind in the room.

A few seconds of silence.

Then, belatedly, Ciel stomped her feet with a pale face.

“W-What should we do?! Because of Ciel’s slip of the tongue!!”

“You deal with it yourself.”

“Miyu-nim might quit everything—what should we do?! We have to go right now and beg until she forgives us…”

“You still don’t know her, do you?”

“Huh?”

Ciel tilted her head, and I spoke again.

“What you should be worried about isn’t Miyu being in a situation where she ‘makes nothing.’ It’s the opposite.”

“O-Opposite?”

“Since you told her that what she made ‘isn’t cute,’ she’ll definitely think, ‘I have to make something even cuter!’ And to Miyu, that ‘cuteness’ means…”

“…Performance.”

Most likely, to heal her wounded pride, Miyu would come out with things even more monstrous than the prototypes from earlier.

When I explained that, Ciel’s expression became even paler.

“W-What should we do?! At this rate, Ciel will turn into a maid-type war weapon! Miyu-nim will completely remodel Ciel’s body until there’s nothing left of it!”

“That’s your own fault.”

The image that came to mind was of a giant armored weapon like a Gun○, but with only Ciel’s head attached—a grotesque design.

It was possible an even greater monster, far beyond my shallow imagination, could be born.

“Well, that’s a good thing.”

“How is that a good thing?! You’re acting like it’s someone else’s problem…!”

“In the end, you’ll become stronger. If the performance goes up, it’s something to be happy about.”

“Even if Ciel turns into a monstrous war machine?! Ciel doesn’t want a huge body over 10 meters tall with armor that can deflect missiles! Ciel likes this soft, protein-based body!”

“Not my problem.”

See, you should’ve been more careful with your mouth.

Saying that, I got up from my seat.

Originally, I came to watch Ciel’s modification process, but judging by the situation, Miyu would probably hole herself up in the workshop again and not come out.

It would be lucky if she didn’t skip class and remembered to eat.

“I’ll be going now.”

“Uwaaah! Don’t go, please!”

Ciel desperately clung to me, but as she was ‘still’ just a maid-type Android, she couldn’t stop me by force.

Once she was remodeled into an armored warrior by Miyu’s hands, she might have stood a chance, but not yet.

‘…Miyu will handle the rest just fine.’

Thinking that, I was on my way back to the office when suddenly an alarm sounded and an email arrived.

The sender was unknown.

‘Hm?’

Usually, any official document meant for me would pass through the secretary’s office first.

So why had an email with an unknown sender arrived directly in my inbox?

Feeling a strong sense of caution, I ran a quick scan and then carefully opened the email.

The contents inside were shocking—

“W-What the hell is this…!?”

It contained complete evidence of the crimes Aaron Stingray had committed so far.

And that wasn’t all.

Evidence that I was a Transmigrator.

The staged assassination I had orchestrated with Vladimir’s help.

The time I had brutally beaten Araya of Ashita-kyo to death.

The moment I had killed the Stingray soldiers who sided with Benedict.

And above all, even my future plan to use the Liberator to trigger an Android rebellion.

All of that information was inside the file now, right in front of my eyes…

[Detected mana distortion.]

[Executing Mental Controller Module.]

Srrrk.

Along with a newly appearing system message, my vision cleared.

The mysterious email that had been flickering before my eyes vanished.

I was merely staring at my inbox, looking as ordinary as ever.

“…An illusion?”

It didn’t take long to understand the situation.

I didn’t know exactly who the culprit was, but perhaps someone—or something—had just attempted a magical attack on me.

“…”

My brow furrowed on its own.

Was there such an episode in the original story?

I tried to search my memory while calming my confusion, but the answer was NO.

Which meant only one thing.

‘Transmigrator.’

The enemy had appeared once again.

Silence was healing.

Miyu was working.

Ciel was being modified.

While everyone was making their preparations in their own way, Iri and Raina were…

“Iri. This spelling is wrong. This is a poorly written sentence. And you’ll need to check the numbers again.”

“I-I’ll fix it.”

“Raina. Most of this paragraph is useless. The argument is getting muddled.”

“S-Sorry…”

In the Stingray office, I was surrounded by mountains of paperwork at the desk next to Maria, getting my report corrected.

‘Th-This is hard! I’m dying here!’

Iri screamed inwardly.

The very first thing she had to do after taking on the role of team leader was to write the ‘operation plan report.’

Deep down, she grumbled, thinking, Can’t we just go in and fight hard? Why is paperwork necessary?

But the moment she voiced that thought, Maria scolded her harshly.

“A leader must be familiar with documents.”

Reports submitted to higher-ups, and even the ones coming up from below, were all documents.

According to Maria, if you didn’t get used to this kind of work and develop the skill for it, you were disqualified as a leader of an organization that managed multiple people.

“Reports should be as concise and clean as possible. Preferably, all the content should be on one page so the superior can grasp the whole situation at a glance—that’s a good report.”

“But in the Academy, they sometimes make us write reports over ten pages long…”

“That’s because those are for academic achievement. You have to research hard and study in order to write such long reports. But company reports are different.”

“Yes…”

Iri replied, deflated.

But Maria’s lecture didn’t end there.

“Have you been syncing up with your team members?”

“Syncing up?”

“Training, I mean.”

“Ah, no…”

How could she train when she was already this busy?

Even Raina was being held in the office right after her Academy classes, handling documents with Iri.

She answered lightly with that thought in mind, but Maria rebuked her with a stern expression.

“Whenever you have spare time, you should gather your team members for training and check on their readiness. Didn’t I give you the site map? The most straightforward method is to rent the simulation training ground, recreate the location based on the map, and fight against virtual enemies. Also…”

“…Yes.”

My ears are going to bleed!

Iri screamed internally.

Was Maria always like this?

Well, of course, I was grateful she was making time to help…

But this wasn’t even the work I usually did, and because of an order Aaron had unilaterally given me, my workload had increased.

So I couldn’t exactly be happy about it.

“Haa…”

“Are you tired?”

“…No.”

Fine, it can’t be helped.

Like Maria said, this was all experience that would become bone and flesh for me.

With that in mind, I kept working—until…

“Ugh…”

Stagger.

Maria, sitting across from me, suddenly grabbed her forehead and twisted her body slightly.

And it wasn’t just her.

Raina also suddenly frowned and held her face, and the other Stingray employees at their desks all at once swayed or complained of dizziness, as if they had received some kind of signal.

What on earth was going on?

“M-Maria, are you okay?”

“Yes. Just a bit dizzy… Are you all right, Iri?”

“Yes, I’m fi—”

Her words never finished.

Because a phone call came in.

And that phone number was…

“…Oppa?”

Peter Jones.

The number of her dead older brother.

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