Episode 119

A device that monitored brainwave activity to distinguish between sleep and wakefulness let out a piercing, no-frills buzzer. [BISHOP] flashed a notification confirming that Taro was awake, while his vital signs flickered across the display, indicating that his health was, miraculously, still within acceptable parameters.

"……Ngh…… Ouch. What the hell? This is way worse than just sleeping on my neck wrong."

Taro hauled himself up from the machine, his face contorting as ripples of pain surged through his body. His head spun with a mild case of vertigo, and a lingering nausea sat heavy in his gut. Through his warped, swimming vision, he saw a thicket of cables snaking out from the massive device and remembered exactly what he had been doing.

"……Teiro? Good morning…… Um, are you okay?"

Marl, who had been dozing with her head resting on Taro’s knees, looked up and peered into his face with a look of pure dread. Her warmth still lingered on his thighs, and Taro found himself wondering if he’d wasted a perfectly good chance at a cuddle. Has she been stuck here by my side the entire time?

"Yeah… mostly. I feel like garbage, though. I think I need to crawl into my own bed for a bit. My joints are screaming at me."

Despite feeling like he’d been run over by a space-truck, Taro forced a smile. This was a level of post-Override malaise he hadn’t experienced before.

"I’m not surprised…… You were out for twenty hours. It’s only natural. I’ll haul you back to your room, so just sit still and get in this."

"Twenty hours? Whoa, hang on. I can walk on my own, I’m fine. Wait, is that a wheelchair? Where the hell did we get one of those?"

"It’s a Warship, Taro. It comes pre-stocked with all sorts of things for when people get bits of themselves blown off. Now hush and grab on."

Marl leaned in close, hooking her arms under his armpits to hoist him up. Taro’s heart did a nervous little dance at the sudden proximity and the heat of her body, but he let himself be manhandled into the chair. The device, which looked more like a stretcher that had been folded into a seat, had its height adjusted automatically, making the transfer effortless.

"So it’s a wheelchair-stretcher hybrid? Talk about convenient…… Marl?"

Taro looked up from his seat to find Marl frozen, her expression terrifyingly grim. She was biting her lip, her eyes searching his with a frantic, shaky intensity.

"Hey…… Um…… You haven't forgotten? I mean, about us, or… well…… everything else? Anything?"

She sounded like she was terrified that the mere act of asking might make the answer "yes." It was a timid, fragile tone that didn't suit her at all. Her eyes darted around, her lashes casting shadows as she looked away.

"……Hmm. I don't recall knowing any girls this wimpy and delicate."

Marl’s head snapped up at Taro’s voice. Her brow furrowed, her face a mask of sorrow.

"……See, the Marl-tan I know is a cocky, high-spirited girl. She’s powerful, she’s beautiful, and she’s the kind of girl who’d bash my brains out with a spanner if I stepped out of line…… Er, a-haha, okay, I’m rambling. Point is, I’m fine. I remember everything. I promise."

Taro had tried to pivot to a joke to lighten the mood, but seeing how truly devastated Marl looked, he quickly switched to damage control.

"……I see. Then I guess you forgot about Earth again…… Teiro, I’m so sorry…… I couldn’t do anything to help you…… I’m so, so sorry."

Warm droplets began to pitter-patter onto Taro’s cheek, trailing down his skin. Marl’s face was twisted in a knot of regret, huge tears welling up in her eyes.

"…………"

Taro had no idea why she felt the need to apologize, but he reached out and gently squeezed her arm, letting the gesture serve as his reply. He didn't let go until he was safely tucked into the bed in his quarters.

"It's an alloy."

The gang was all there: Marl, Alan, Liza, Phantom, Bella, and Koume were crammed into Taro’s room. Taro, still horizontal on his bed, addressed his concerned visitors.

"Titanium and Aluminum. Mix those with Diamond as a base, then thread Carbon Fiber through it in a very specific pattern. Honestly, the composition is almost identical to a Shield Armor Plate. The secret sauce is a three-step process: how you create the flow in the Carbon Fiber, how you fold in the Diamond Particle without them degrading, and using titanium that’s 'contaminated' with just the right amount of impurities. It turns out Razor Metal Ore is just this specific type of raw titanium…… Honestly, I want to know what the guy who first discovered this was smoking. The process is so needlessly complex it transcends being a pain in the ass and enters the realm of pure spite."

Taro looked utterly exasperated even while lying down. The group stared back at him, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and awe. Alan, the only one who looked remotely composed, leaned forward.

"Can we make it at our factory?"

Before the words were even out of his mouth, Bella delivered a savage kick to his side. Alan went sailing across the room, chair and all.

"This is why you’re a terminal virgin, Alan! You should be worried about the boy first! ……Hey, kid, you doing okay?"

Bella’s face, which had been a mask of demonic fury while looking at Alan, softened into a grandmotherly concern as she reached out to touch Taro’s forehead. Taro was suddenly reminded that she was a member of the Space Mafia—a fact he tended to forget whenever she wasn't kicking people through furniture.

"Ahaha…… Yeah, I’m good. My body seems fine, and my head’s on straight. I think I’ve lost some more stuff from when I was a kid, though. I can’t really tell if I forgot it because of the Override or if it’s just because it was a long time ago. It’s not a huge deal."

The room exhaled in a collective sigh of relief. Taro followed suit, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Good. They believe me.

In reality, the memories of his student years were almost entirely nuked.

He knew he’d played somewhere as a kid, or that he’d attended a school, but the specifics were gone. He’d already lost his parents and friends in the previous round, but this time the erasure was thorough. By leaning on his remaining knowledge and logic, he could piece together a vague storyboard: “Around that time, I probably did this. I must have experienced that.” But the actual "feeling" of having lived it—the sensory data of his own life—had vanished.

And what really sucked was that he couldn't even feel properly sad about it. Since he’d forgotten the memories themselves, he no longer understood the value of what he’d lost.

Next time? Yeah, there isn't going to be a next time. My brain is officially at capacity. Any more than this and the 'Taro' operating system is going to crash for good.

Taro didn't have the technical specs on how an Override worked, but his gut was screaming at him. He didn't think his core personality was compromised yet, but he knew he was dancing on the edge of a cliff. A person is built out of their memories and experiences. If he kept editing the source code of his soul, eventually, there would be no "him" left. People change naturally over time, but this was like taking a chainsaw to a bonsai tree.

"See? I told you he’d be fine! Our boss is made of tougher stuff than that…… Ow! Quit kicking me! I was worried too! But we’ve got a lot of lives riding on this, I had to check!" Alan protested, scrambling to put distance between himself and Bella’s boots.

Taro let out a genuine laugh at the slapstick routine and gestured for Bella to stand down.

"Don't kill him, Bella. I need to keep my fellow virgin comrade around for morale…… Anyway, regarding the factory: yeah, we can do it. Probably. But don't expect top-shelf quality right away. We definitely don't have the know-how to produce Grade-A stuff yet."

Taro gave a shaky thumbs-up, prompting a chorus of impressed "Oohs" from the group.

"Teiro sacrificed something precious for this. It better work," Marl said with a bittersweet smile.

Liza nodded. "Everything is in place. I spoke with my brother, and the military is going to play ball. He turned me down at first, but the moment I mentioned the Razor Metal, he flipped faster than a pancake. He promised to provide his best 'special' assets, so you can expect great things."

Liza gave a playful wink, her twin-tails bouncing. Hope began to bloom in the room. The future was looking a lot less bleak.

The biggest hurdle to In-house Refining of Razor Metal had always been Fifty Materials.

The Mega-Corps that made up the 50 Companies guarded their secrets with lethal obsession. According to Alan, even the Imperial Supreme Authority was likely a member of that inner circle. Picking a fight with them head-on was a suicide mission.

"If we start selling Razor Metal under our own banner, it’s not a business move—it’s a declaration of war," Phantom noted, bringing up the worst-case scenario they’d discussed in the briefing. The problem was that the Rising Sun and EAP operated in Outer Space.

Legally speaking, the Mega-Corps had no right to a monopoly. But legally speaking, there were also no rules in Outer Space that said a company couldn't just blow a competitor out of the sky. If they were in the Imperial Center, the law might protect a new startup. Out here? They were fair game.

The public might frown on an unjust corporate war, but Fifty Materials didn't give a damn about public relations. They’d just fabricate a reason—like claiming Rising Sun stole their tech via corporate espionage—and declare war. By the time Taro could even file a counter-suit, the company would be space dust.

"So we use a Dummy Company," Alan had suggested, countering Phantom’s point. "We scrub any public link to Rising Sun. Then, after the war is over, we 'merge' when the time is right. The trick is finding a company that already has the tech to plausibly 'discover' the refining method and a backer scary enough to make Fifty Materials think twice before swinging their dicks around…… And the only entity with that kind of muscle is the military."

Liza had jumped on the idea and pitched it to Dean.

"My brother is technically a shareholder here, and once he saw the big picture, he became very helpful. The idea of the whole operation falling under military jurisdiction really tickled his fancy," Liza said with a touch of irony.

Given the astronomical profits Razor Metal would generate after the war, Dean’s standing within the Imperial Military would skyrocket. He might even end up running the dummy company himself.

"Hehe. Well then, that settles it," Bella said, her lips curling into a predatory smirk.

Phantom nodded. "The counterattack begins. Let’s show those bastards exactly what happens when you treat us like a doormat."