Chapter 110

The spread consisted of three sad, undersized bread rolls, a dollop of citrus-flavored jam, some aggressively bland coleslaw, and a few strips of synthetic bacon that had clearly never seen a pig. To top it all off, there were eight nutritional supplement tablets. It was a menu that screamed "budget hotel breakfast," yet according to the man sitting with them, this was a legitimate feast.

"I’m not trying to be a food critic or anything, but laborers who actually move for a living probably want a bit more... heft," Taro said.

In reality, Taro was so used to eating like a pampered space-lord that this meal was basically a personal insult to his stomach. Marl seemed to agree; she was chewing with an expression that suggested she was contemplating a violent uprising. The nutritional tablets were designed to swell in the gut, providing a physical sensation of fullness within minutes, but whether that actually translated to satisfaction was a philosophical debate Taro wasn't in the mood for.

"Well, you’re not wrong," the man replied, wearing a grin of genuine contentment. "The port workers hate it. But honestly, this is a massive upgrade. We actually got bacon today! I’m telling you, the Alliance Government is really pulling through for us."

Taro offered a non-committal "Is that so?" before tearing off a piece of the tasteless bread and shoving it into his mouth. The roll had apparently been baked in a salt-free vacuum; without the jam, it would have been about as edible as a sponge.

"So, getting down to the brass tacks... how did things get this bad? Rationing usually implies a pretty major screw-up on the food supply side, right?"

Since his cover story was that he was an Iceman—a lie that was technically a half-truth—Taro felt no shame in playing the ignorant outsider.

The man’s face darkened. "The Empire happened."

Of course. When in doubt, blame the big red menace.

"It started about six months ago, right around the time of the Neural Network Collapse," the man continued. "The Empire decided they wanted to start ‘direct management’ of this sector and started making these insane demands. Huge tax hikes, demanding free resources... typical imperial thuggery. Obviously, the Alliance told them where to shove it. And then those monsters—"

The man slammed his fork onto the tray and leveled a finger at Taro.

"They blew up the Agricultural Stations just to make a point! Thousands of people, just gone! And that wasn't enough. They hit the Milano Mining Star System and every other major resource hub. The Alliance Forces managed to claw back the Pisa Star System, so we’re barely hanging on, but it’s a drop in the bucket compared to what the economy actually needs."

The man was practically vibrating with rage. At the surrounding tables, other patrons were nodding like a field of angry bobbleheads.

"Are you serious? They actually went that far?"

Taro was indeed feeling a surge of shock and anger, though it wasn't directed at the Imperial Military. It was directed squarely at the Enzio Alliance.

He didn't know how much of the man’s story was "fact," but the part about the Imperial Military being responsible felt like a steaming pile of nonsense. The Empire doesn't do 'roundabout.' If they wanted the sector, they’d just flatten the Alliance Forces in a straight fight. Besides, the Imperial Military is way too corrupt and lazy to proactively manage new territory. The Enzio Star System is too big to harass for petty loot; it would be a diplomatic nightmare.

"So, does that mean the Enzio Government is the one managing the food and resources now?" Taro asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Naturally," the man said, puffing out his chest. "We’re only surviving because the Alliance Government is working overtime. We used to be at each other's throats with Trussardi Corp and the rest, but hey, we’re all star-system neighbors in the end. When the chips are down, you cooperate. Yesterday's enemy is today's... uh, whatever the saying is."

Taro struggled to maintain a polite smile. A self-staged farce. A classic arsonist-cop routine. He had several choice words for it, most of them involving the word "scam."

"Right, I get it. Everyone’s uniting to kick the Empire out. Can't really sit on your hands when they’re messing with your lunch," Taro said with a heavy, ironic sigh.

The man, oblivious to the sarcasm, nodded fervently.

"Honestly, nobody wants a war with the Empire. It’s terrifying. And look—I shouldn't be saying this—but even I wonder how much the Alliance Government is actually telling us," the man whispered, leaning in and checking his surroundings. "Between you and me?"

He lowered his voice further. "A lot of corporations are still fighting this. In fact, most of them are. Sure, they owe the Alliance Government for keeping them afloat, but the government is getting pretty tyrannical. People are suspicious. But what can you do? Like you said, without food or fuel, both the people and the companies are dead in the water. Just, uh... keep that under your hat, okay?"

The man gave a conspiratorial wink and a grimace. Taro mirrored the solemn expression and gave a firm, "Your secret’s safe with me" nod.

They chatted for a bit longer until the meal was finished, but the well of information had run dry. Still, Taro was pleased. The man’s story lined up perfectly with what they’d heard from the Defector. If he could combine this with Alan’s hacking of the station data banks and whatever dirt Phantom dug up in the underworld, they’d have a complete picture.

"You’ve been incredibly helpful," Taro said as they stood outside the shop. "I can't thank you enough for looking out for a stranger. Are you sure I can't offer you some Credits?"

Taro reached for his wallet, but the man waved him off with stubborn pride. He insisted that helping those in need was just the right thing to do, which actually made Taro’s conscience twinge with a bit of genuine guilt.

"Like I said, save your money. Being an Iceman is a tough gig. Good luck out there!"

With a cheerful wave, the man turned and disappeared into the depths of the Commercial District, presumably heading back to work. Taro shouted one last thanks before signaling Marl and Taiki to move out.

"That was a lucky break," Marl said, her voice buzzing with excitement as she kept pace with Taro. "That’s some high-grade intel."

"No kidding," Taro muttered, his mind racing. "Enzio pulled off a massive false-flag operation to seize control of every food and resource source in the Enzio Region. Now they’re using those supplies to blackmail every corporation into line. I don't know the specifics, but they must have spent years setting this up. Usually, a lie this big has holes."

"It’s insane," Marl agreed. "There are hundreds of star systems in the Enzio Region. If they’re fooling all of them, they’re the greatest swindlers in history. They definitely took advantage of the chaos from the Neural Network Collapse... but wait, that doesn't add up."

She pouted, tapping her chin. Taro nodded, voicing the thought that had been nagging at him.

"Yeah. The timing is way too perfect. It’s almost like they knew the Neural Network was going to go down. No one knows why the network crashed, but this seems a little too convenient for 'coincidence.'"

Every part of Enzio’s plan, starting from the Deception War, had been set in motion before the Collapse. While it was possible they just got lucky, the total blackout of long-range communication was the one thing they needed to make the scam work.

"But how?" Marl whispered, more to herself than to Taro. "The Neural Network is a decentralized aggregate. It’s not a machine you can just unplug. There is no central core. How do you even 'crash' a system like that?"

Taro shrugged. "If Alan thinks it's 'incomprehensible,' I'm definitely not going to figure it out."

As they drifted into a sea of dark speculation, Taiki—who had been playing the role of a silent shadow—suddenly stopped. He looked back over his shoulder.

"...Boss. We're ducking into that alley. Now. And then we're sprinting. You remember the way to the pier?"

His voice was low, vibrating with the kind of tension that usually preceded a gunfight. Taro followed Taiki’s gaze and saw two figures in the distance. One was a man in a crisp security uniform. The other was the "kind" man they had just shared breakfast with.

"Oh, come on. Did I slip up, or is he just being 'helpful' again?" Taro muttered.

The man was currently whispering into the guard’s ear while pointing a very accusatory finger directly at Taro’s group. The guard nodded, reaching for a device on his shoulder that was unmistakably a radio.

"Doesn't matter!" Marl hissed, grabbing Taro’s sleeve. Her face was pale. "If we get caught now, we’re finished. Run!"

Taro didn't need to be told twice. So much for the milk of human kindness.