Rokujouma no Shinryakusha!? - Volume 30 - Chapter 6

The Truth and Ping-pong Balls

Saturday, March 16th

As expected, Koutarou went on for quite some time. There was a lot to tell, and he wasn’t particularly good at storytelling. He’d started his tale at about noon, and didn’t finish until about the time the sun was starting to set.

“It’s nice to meet you, ho! We can finally talk, Mackenzie, ho! I’m Karama!”

“This may be the first time you’ve seen us, ho, but we’ve always been close by! I’m Korama!”

“Kou, how are these guys even moving?! They’re clearly haniwas, but their bodies bend and wiggle with them!”

“I don’t know the details, dude. Anyways, the most pressing part is that there are people coming to Earth to get their hands on mysterious technology like these little guys. And it’d be trouble for Theia and the others if this kind of technology gets leaked back to Forthorthe.”

“We’re very popular, you know, ho!”

“We can’t fall into enemy hands, ho!”

There was a lot about Koutarou’s story that Kenji simply couldn’t believe, but he couldn’t argue with the haniwas talking and moving right in front of him. It wasn’t all that different from when the Forthorthians had come. At this rate, he’d end up believing even the most unbelievable part of the whole story—that Yurika was a magical girl. But that was thanks to Kenji’s open mind, and certainly not thanks to Koutarou’s lackluster storytelling.

“So there’s some kind of moratorium on exporting technology, huh? I’m guessing this explains the incident with Nalfa the other day too.”

“Basically. There are people who would use her as a way to bypass that moratorium.”

“I can see how that’s a problem. That said, I’m not sure how Forthorthian militants could even get here, considering Forthorthe basically just made contact with Earth…”

Koutarou and the others had discovered that underground groups from both Forthorthe and Japan were clandestinely working together, but if they’d managed to kill Nalfa, it likely wouldn’t have mattered. All the public would see was that an innocent Forthorthian girl had been killed with Earth weapons. It would drive a wedge between the two nations, breaking down relations and mutually agreed upon conventions like the moratorium on tech exchange. Fortunately that had all been avoided, but both worlds had been dangerously close to being plunged into chaos.

“Politics sure is complicated... But I gotta say, Mackenzie, it seems like you have a knack for this intrigue stuff, huh?”

Koutarou was surprised by how easily Kenji seemed to get his head around the nuanced affairs at play. He didn’t seem the type, so Koutarou had thought Kenji would only consider all this to be a pain in the neck.

“I’m in the drama club, you know? I watch a lot of movies for research.”

The wide variety of film Kenji exposed himself to had helped broaden his horizons. In cinema, world-ending danger and politics were all too common. There were several movies he could think of on the spot that reminded him of the current situation, which gave him a certain sense of perspective.

“I’m glad you understand, Mackenzie. Makes it easy for me to explain. And I’ll be counting on you to relay this all to Kin-chan for me.”

“See, that’s what makes you a terrible friend. You always leave the troublesome stuff to me.”

Kotori wasn’t currently with the two boys. The plan was for Kenji to hear Koutarou’s story first to make sure it was suitable for his little sister’s ears, but in the end, Koutarou had passed the responsibility of retelling everything on to Kenji. Koutarou figured that would be easier and reduce the risk of any misunderstandings. He thought hearing it from her brother would be better than hearing it from him.

“Well, you two made up, right? I’m sure if you explain everything to her, she will think even better of you. What do you say?”

“You sure know how to hit where it hurts... Sheesh, what’s a brother to do?”

Kenji scratched his head and sighed. It was true that recent incidents had helped repair his relationship with Kotori. He’d been willing to protect Nalfa even though it meant putting his own life on the line, and Kotori admired him for that. Things were still a little awkward between them, however, so Koutarou thought that Kenji having a good excuse to talk to her for a while would help patch things up the rest of the way. Kenji agreed, albeit reluctantly.

“I just hope you’re not forced into making some other ridiculous promise, Mackenzie.”

“You’re telling me. When it comes to love... Kotori is way too romantic.”

Kenji sighed again and leaned against the railing of the roof. Kotori had already made him promise to handle his relationships with women more wholesomely in the future—that was the minimum condition for her to consider forgiving him. Nevertheless, it felt like a punishment to Kenji. In order to find his soulmate, he’d convinced himself he needed to date as many girls as possible until he met the right one. Kotori, meanwhile, believed that fate would bring soulmates together. It was simply something they’d never see eye-to-eye on.

“But to be honest, I’m on Kin-chan’s side this time.”

“Of course you are—you’re the very embodiment of Kotori’s ideals. If I tell her what’s really going on, she’ll just use you as an example to boast about how right she was.”

The relationship between Koutarou and the girls was like an intricate puzzle. If any one of them were missing, the full picture was lost. Fate had brought them together, and love kept them together. Kenji was right; that was exactly the kind of romanticism Kotori idealized. Koutarou not being able to settle on his soulmate was a bit of an issue, but because he treated all the girls so gentlemanly, Kotori didn’t complain. Not with Koutarou, anyway. It arguably made her grow stricter with Kenji.

“But, well... thanks to that, I can finally accept it, Kou.”

“So you finally give in?”

“Not that. I’m talking about you and those girls. I always thought it was strange. I always wondered how they got so close to you in such a short amount of time.”

“They didn’t do anything. It all just sort of happened.”

“I know; that’s exactly what Kotori would have wanted.”

Kenji knew better than anyone how hard it was for Koutarou to let people into his life. Once upon a time, he’d only made exceptions for Kenji and Kotori. But in just two short years, nine more exceptions had appeared. Kenji thought it was a good thing, but he’d always wondered how it happened. Hearing everything that had actually taken place over the last two years, however, it finally made sense. Koutarou had been through thick and thin with each of the girls. That was why there was no way he could pick just one of them over the others. Their mutual relationship was already too strong. And now that he realized that, Kenji decided he’d stop trying to rush his best friend into making a decision.

“So I just need to worry about Kotori, huh...?”

Kenji had a faint smile on his face as he looked up at the setting sun. Before today, he’d always been worried about Kotori and Koutarou. But now he realized there was nothing he could do for Koutarou. He’d have to leave him to the girls and focus on Kotori instead. This should have been a development worth celebrating, but Kenji felt a little sad about it for some reason.

“Sorry, but you’re not off the hook that easy, Mackenzie.”

“Hmm? What do you mean, Kou?”

“Since you’re my closest friend, both good people like Nalfa-san and villains like those guys the other day are going to be coming after you from now on.”

“Jeez, life would’ve been easier if you’d just skipped this legendary hero business... What am I gonna do with you? Or myself, for that matter? At this rate, I’m not ever going to get a chance to take it easy.”

“My bad. But at the very least, I’ll definitely protect you and Kin-chan... just like you guys did me.”

“I’m not worried about settling that score, Kou. I know you’re good for it.”

Koutarou was out of Kenji’s hands now, but a whole new load of problems had fallen in his lap in his place. The prospects were potentially quite dangerous, but Kenji was happy—just happy enough to make up for the sadness he felt over not being able to help his best friend anymore.

Forthorthe embraced freedom of the press just like Japan did, but it wasn’t Nalfa’s goal to test the limits of that. She didn’t want to hurt anyone with her journalistic work, and so took great care in editing the footage she’d collected before uploading it to the pangalactic network. And there was someone who was none too happy to hear it.

“Is it true that we were censored, ho?!”

“We won’t be making our pangalactic network debut, ho?!”

Or rather, two tiny someones—Karama and Korama. They woefully bounced over to Nalfa with tears in their eyes the next time she visited room 106. They’d been looking forward to debuting in Nalfa’s documentary series.

“I-I’m sorry, little haniwas. I wanted to avoid revealing anything about the People of the Earth’s technology.”

Nalfa was sorry to disappoint them, but didn’t want Forthorthe at large to know that the haniwas were really from Earth. They’d appeared occasionally in news footage during the civil war, but it was all too easy to assume they were just odd, custom-built robots. They hadn’t really garnered any special attention. But if Nalfa released footage of them here on Earth, there would be clever observers that made the connection. She didn’t want to risk that.

“Aww, I see, ho... Then I guess we can’t complain, ho.”

“Yeah, ho! And besides, ho, we’ve already made our debut on the news in Forthorthe!”

Contrary to Nalfa’s expectations, however, the haniwas took it all rather well. It seemed their real goal was simply to be on film, not necessarily in Nalfa’s videos.

“Nalfa-san’s videos are really popular, so they have a lot of influence for better or for worse,” said Koutarou. “You’ll just have to bear with her for now, and I’m sure you’ll get to be in them eventually.”

“Really, ho?!”

“Do you mean it, ho?!”

“Of course,” said Nalfa. “I’m sure robots will quickly become more common in both places, so I’ll ask you to be guest stars when the time is right.”

“All right, ho!”

“We can’t wait, ho!”

“Master, speaking of popular... The video that Nalfa-sama took of the battle the other day is getting a lot of attention in Forthorthe.”

“Didn’t you say the same thing about the last one?”

“This one is even more popular!”

“Really?”

“Er, well, you could say that. Thanks to you, Koutarou-sama... it’s doing okay.”

“Heehee, there’s no need to be so modest, Nalfa-sama. It racked up more than 1.8 billion views on the first day, and right now it’s quickly making its way to the 10 billion mark.”

Nalfa released the new footage as part of her “Nalfa Laren’s Japan Chronicles” series. It was a huge hit that had gone viral as soon as it was posted. It showcased the Satomi band of knights fighting together and the aftermath of the battle. Theia had run immediately over to check on Koutarou, and a small disagreement had led to a full-blown fistfight that culminated with Theia putting a bandage on the goose egg she’d given Koutarou. Their relationship was so special and uniquely cute that it was a hot topic among Forthorthians, particularly Forthorthian women who accounted for a large number of the video’s views. Experts calculated that a considerable population was just watching the video over and over again.

“As a result of its popularity, Nalfa-sama has received a rather large royalty package.”

“How large are we talking?”

“In Japanese currency, it would be roughly 3.8 billion yen.”

“That much?!”

Koutarou was floored. In Forthorthe, videos on the pangalactic network received royalties based on the number of views. Those royalties, which added up across videos, had reached a considerable sum for Nalfa. In the short time she’d been posting since coming to Earth, she’d gotten rich.

“That’s amazing, Nalfa-san!”

“I-It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but that’s what happened...”

Nalfa looked down, red in the cheeks. She was aware that Koutarou and Theia were really the ones who’d gotten all the attention. This was no different than the first few videos she’d uploaded, so she felt uncomfortable being the one to receive praise for her success.

“God is definitely playing favorites! Why is there such a big difference between me and Nalfa-chan?!”

As it turned out, there was someone other than the haniwas who was unhappy with how things had turned out. Yurika was practically in mourning. Comparing her personal situation to Nalfa’s was just too depressing.

“That’s what you get for jumping at shady job offers,” scolded Koutarou.

Yurika had gladly accepted a part-time job that paid 200,000 yen a day, only to later discover she’d really been working for yakuza all along. Before she’d been able to earn anywhere near the sum she wanted, the office had been blown up.

“It’s a good thing the Sun Rangers had already swooped in and carted everyone away,” teased Theia.

“You didn’t send the self-destruct device to the office just to destroy any evidence of you working there, did you?” asked Koutarou.

“O-Of course not! It was just the only place I could think of on the spot that would be deserted!”

It had been one thing after another recently, but Yurika just couldn’t fight back the tears when she heard that Nalfa had earned several billion yen practically overnight.

“You’re already rich, Satomi-san, so please take care of me.”

“I’m poor on Earth, Yurika.”

Yurika clung to Koutarou, her eyes still wet with tears. Koutarou tried to push her away, but she was clinging to him with such strength that he couldn’t get her off.

To me, it looks like Yurika-san is really the one who came out on top here...

If Koutarou really wanted, he wouldn’t have any trouble peeling Yurika off. And when Nalfa thought about why he hadn’t done that already, she grew a little envious. She’d gladly give up all her money to be in Yurika’s shoes right now.

After a thorough investigation, Kiriha concluded that the remnants of Vandarion’s faction hadn’t really been intent on causing any serious damage by self-destructing the attack craft. Shizuka and Yurika had been able to protect everyone from it, not just because of their incredible powers, but because the charge of the explosion was relatively small to begin with.

“Kii, what’s your basis for all this?”

“I have three primary reasons, the first of which is that the wreckage of the craft makes it apparent that it wasn’t maintained to spec.”

The remains of the exploded craft indicated it wasn’t fit for manned missions. There were faulty parts everywhere; any crew that dared to fly aboard it would risk dying before they ever saw combat.

“How did it end up like that...?”

Koutarou cocked his head to the side. He understood that a craft like that was an ideal candidate for remote control, but he couldn’t understand why Vandarion’s faction had a craft in that condition in the first place.

“They’ve probably long run out of service parts considering the length of time they’ve been away from Forthorthe,” explained Kiriha. “I believe they’d been cannibalizing that ship in order to maintain others, which is why they sent it after us as a decoy.”

If they had several malfunctioning ships on their hands and no parts to make the necessary repairs, rather than losing all of them, it made sense to sacrifice one to save the many. And that’s exactly what they’d been forced to do since they were so far away from home. That made it the perfect ship to send out on an unmanned mission it might never come back from.

“So it was a sacrificial pawn from the start, was it? That means that was their plan all along; they didn’t actually change their minds when things went south,” mused Clan.

“A self-destruct device was intentionally planted on the ship; that much is clear. But that begs another question. The explosive power of the device wasn’t enough to deal any serious damage to its surroundings,” said Kiriha.

And that was her second reason for thinking Vandarion’s faction hadn’t intended it to be much of an attack. By studying the remains of the blown-up yakuza office, she had a good idea of the power of the explosion. With that, she was able to determine that it hadn’t been strong or intense enough to do much more than take out a single building. There was never any risk of it demolishing the city.

“That’s strange. I thought it was a backup plan in the case they failed to assassinate Nalfa-san, so it doesn’t make any sense to cut down on the explosives,” said Koutarou.

He folded his arms and began thinking. Their goal had been to kill Nalfa with Earth weapons and turn Forthorthian public opinion against the Earthlings. It was a desperate move, and if all else failed, it seemed they would resort to dealing widespread damage in the city to forcibly deteriorate Japanese-Forthorthian relations. But they’d done near the opposite and used a compact charge when they self-destructed their ship. It wasn’t even enough to completely destroy the craft, much less the other evidence they were leaving behind. Koutarou couldn’t figure out why that was.

“The answer to that is my third reason. After gathering up all of the parts, we could only reassemble 80 percent of the craft,” said Kiriha.

“What does that mean?” asked Koutarou.

“It means that someone walked off with the other 20 percent.”

“So that’s why the explosion was so weak?! They knew it would be impossible to analyze the technology if it was all completely destroyed?!”

“That’s right. Their true motivation in using a weak charge was to indirectly hand over Forthorthian technology to Earthlings. And since we have no way of knowing who stumbled upon those parts, we have no way of tracking them down.”

The attack craft had already largely been cannibalized for parts, meaning it couldn’t be used for most normal missions. What, then, would be the most effective use of a predominantly useless craft? The answer Vandarion’s faction had arrived at was using it to further their goals by disseminating Forthorthian technology in the event the assassination failed.

“Our enemy is calm and collected. They’ve been prudent and levelheaded, strategically calculating just what they need to do in order to come out on top. They may be Vandarion’s faction, but they’re clearly nothing like Vandarion was,” said Kiriha.

If fighting erupted, terrorists and intelligence agencies from all over the world would be on the site in the blink of an eye. Snagging a piece of a self-destructed alien craft would be like finding gold, and anyone who managed to get their hands on some of it would likely take it right back to their organization. The radius the parts had been scattered was limited thanks to Yurika teleporting the bomb away, but about 20 percent of the ship was unaccounted for. It had likely wandered off in the wrong hands, which was a terrifying thought. Even if the parts were faulty or malfunctioning, they were still pieces of Forthorthian technology that could reveal any number of secrets if studied carefully.

“So this guy is like a thoroughly evil Elexis...” muttered Koutarou.

“That’s problematic... To think technology, even limited, would be leaked like this...” mumbled Clan.

Without knowing who had taken the parts or where, there was nothing Koutarou and the others could do to stop it. They would be powerless if forces of evil chose to use what they’d discovered for war or worse. Earth might yet be plunged into chaos, and relations with Forthorthe might yet be ruined. Indeed, this was a far more effective plan than crashing the ship in an attempt to destroy the city.

The ping-pong cannon that Clan had started building for fun was finally ready for a live test fire. She’d been through several prototypes and had settled on using a barrel just shy of eight meters long that pushed ping-pong balls through with compressed air while drawing from the air in front of them. She believed this would be the way to shoot them out as fast as possible, and today was the day she’d be putting that to the test. The sturdy, transparent plastic cannon was shining majestically in the light of the afternoon sun.

“Veltlion, preparations are complete.”

“All right, then let’s get started.”

“Sanae, I’ll leave that side to you.”

“Righto, Glasses! Air goes out here! And goes in here!”

Brrrm!

The air inside the barrel was drained, and began building in the tank behind it. It would be that difference in pressure that gave the ping-pong balls their terrifying speed.

“The barrel and tank have reached their specified values. There are no obstacles in the line of fire. Koutarou, Sanae, Clan-dono, please fall back to safety,” reported Kiriha.

“C’mon, Clan.”

“Wait for me!”

“Heehee, hurry up, Glasses, or we’ll leave you behind!”

Once their jobs were complete, Koutarou, Clan, and Sanae retreated behind a safety panel.

“All clear now,” announced Clan. “We’re ready to fire.”

Preparations were finished and everyone was in a safe position. Kiriha powered up the control panel and opened the safety cover so that she could access the firing button at a moment’s notice. If all went well, once it was pressed, the cannon would shoot a ping-pong ball at unprecedented speed.

“Clan-dono, the countdown, please,” requested Kiriha.

“Here we go!” cheered Sanae.

“I just hope it goes well,” sighed Koutarou.

“Let us begin—five!” Clan called, initiating the countdown.

There was no real point in shooting a ping-pong ball fast enough to break the sound barrier. But Clan looked like she was enjoying herself, so even Koutarou was starting to get a little excited.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Fire!”

“Firing!”

Fwoom!

On command, the tank’s valve opened, unleashing a burst of compressed air into the barrel, inside of which was currently a vacuum. It sent the ping-pong ball flying, ejecting it right out the muzzle on the other side.

“It was so fast I couldn’t see anything,” remarked Koutarou.

“It was like the ball just suddenly disappeared,” added Sanae.

“The sound was unremarkable too. It didn’t have any impact,” observed Clan.

“But the results were interesting, you three. The measured speed of the ball after leaving the barrel was 2,482 kilometers per hour—just over Mach 2,” announced Kiriha.

“Then it was a huge success!” cheered Clan.

She had a big smile on her face as she excitedly pumped her fist in the air. The lively display was so out of character for her that it was utterly adorable. So much so that Koutarou, always the killjoy, almost blurted out a compliment.

“This was indeed a splendid result. Congratulations, Clan-dono.”

“You did it, Glasses!”

“Thank you, Kii, Sanae. It was all thanks to your assistance.”

“...This is how technology should be used.”

In the end, Koutarou refrained from commenting on Clan’s adorableness. While that was in part due to being a sourpuss, he also had something else weighing on his mind.

“What do you mean?” asked Clan.

“I mean to make someone smile.”

That was the conclusion Koutarou had come to after their run-in with the attack craft. Firing a ping-pong ball at high speed for nothing other than fun... It made someone happy. The same could be said for Clan’s PAF, the device she’d invented to help Harumi. It wouldn’t usher in a new era of technology, but it had the potential to help handicapped people everywhere. In other words, it too had the power to spread smiles. Koutarou wanted Clan to continue creating inventions like that.

“That’s true. That’s perhaps the greatest reward yet.”

Clan was thinking something similar herself. Rather than making something that would revolutionize the world, she’d prefer making things that made people happy. And if those people happened to be her friends, then all the better.

“Too bad not everyone’s smiling.”

“Hey, who broke my window?!”

Unfortunately, the ping-pong cannon seemed to have wrought an unexpected outcome. The high-speed projectile had sailed so far that it smashed right through the window of a distant house. The homeowner there was furious.

“Th-That was a miscalculation! An accident! An accident, I tell you! It wasn’t like I did it on purpose!”

“Better go explain that to him.”

“Ugh... A-Ahem, Veltlion, if it’s not too much to ask, would you come with me?”

“Hah... Yeah, I guess. Let’s go, Clan.”

Though relieved, Clan had to wonder why Koutarou was willing to go with her. Ordinarily, he would tell her that this was her problem. That’s not to say she was unhappy about this development, however. She was actually quite pleased, so she decided to muster her courage. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything now.

“...”

“...”

Walking by Koutarou’s side, she slowly reached out and held his hand. Koutarou was a little surprised, but didn’t say a word. As luck would have it, he thought she was being just as adorable now as she had been earlier.