I’m making a conscious effort to include as much dialogue as possible in "Me, Her, and the Ballistic Weaponry." Maybe the narrative descriptions will gradually increase over time?
"Good morning, Mr. Teiro. The OVERRIDE is complete. How are you feeling?"
Koume swayed gently in front of Taro—or rather, in front of the modified refrigeration unit. Taro spat out a "Terrible" and collapsed, throwing his leaden, lethargic body onto the freezing iron floor.
"Ah, the cold feels so good... By the way, whoever came up with this programming method is a total moron. The human brain is a fickle thing. You won't find anything else quite as flaky, you know?"
Taro spoke while calling to mind the flood of new information—knowledge of programming techniques that now certainly resided within his skull.
"Koume does not quite understand, Mr. Teiro. I believe programming within the brain is the most common method available?"
Koume replied in her inorganic, feminine voice. Taro found her lack of facial expressions frustrating, but he pushed through the conversation.
"Is that so? Does that mean people who click-clack away on keyboards are some kind of endangered species?"
"Negative, Mr. Teiro. In practical terms, they are not endangered; they are extinct. The interface known as a 'keyboard' is no longer in general use. At most, a few obsessive eccentrics might use them as a hobby."
"Well, I guess if you have something like this, you wouldn't need one," Taro muttered, blankly visualizing the programming space in his mind.
Before his eyes, a [FUNCTION GROUP] consisting of countless entries was deployed in a three-dimensional grid. He could freely duplicate, connect, and derive them at will. The operation was incredibly intuitive, feeling less like coding and more like playing with building blocks. While the internal logic of each individual [FUNCTION GROUP] was mind-bogglingly complex and largely beyond his understanding, he could utilize them without any issues.
It’s like you don't need to understand the internal circuitry of a TV just to use a remote, Taro mused.
"That is correct," Koume chimed in, reading his summary. "The contents of a [FUNCTION GROUP] are templates created by specialists. You can modify them to your heart's desire, or you can use them as-is for safety's sake. As you mentioned, the human brain is far too unreliable to be trusted entirely when dealing with outputs that directly affect human lives."
"I see..." Taro murmured, observing the various functions. "Still, it’s a gross sensation to know something so well despite having zero familiarity with it... Ugh, is this output read via brainwaves? This really is the future."
Full of wonder and a hint of dread, Taro stood up and walked toward the room's only door. Just as before, there was no sign of a doorknob or a sensor. However, a [DOOR FUNCTION] was now clearly highlighted in his mind.
"So that's how it works... Uh, connect [DOOR FUNCTION] to [MASTER ROUTE]. Deploy template... Oh, wait, there's a lock. Where’s the encryption key? Ah, here. Right, I’m the owner now. Connect [CIPHER FUNCTION] and [LOCKING FUNCTION]. Execute [UNLOCK]!"
In the room that had been deathly silent until now, the heavy, metallic clack of a mechanism echoed.
"Whoa... it opened! Holy crap, that's amazing!"
"Mr. Teiro. You can execute commands without speaking aloud. Honestly, you look like an idiot mumbling to yourself."
"You’re as foul-mouthed as ever! Just leave me alone! I was having a moment... Right, let's save this as a new template. Doing that every time is going to be a massive pain."
Taro saved the series of actions he had just performed as a new custom [FUNCTION GROUP] in his head. Satisfied that he could now open the door without thinking, he turned back to Koume.
"By the way, I assume this system isn't just for doors, right? Does that mean everyone in this era can use this 'brain-programming' stuff?"
Koume swayed, her lamp blinking.
"Affirmative, Mr. Teiro. Unless one is from the most remote backwaters, anyone born within the IMPERIAL TERRITORY undergoes an OVERRIDE immediately after birth. Of course, that is usually limited to the bare minimum required for daily life."
"The future is wild," Taro muttered, impressed. "But what a great era. If you have this, you don't even need to study. You just OVERRIDE whatever knowledge you need, right? Damn, I was born in the wrong century. Hey, can I get general knowledge or ship info put in? I don't know how big this place is—a map would be a godsend."
"……"
"I wonder if there’s scan data for cute girls, too. Oh man, the possibilities are endless... Koume-san?"
"...Yes, Mr. Teiro. If you wish to retain such information permanently, rather than as temporary memory like a [FUNCTION GROUP], I strongly recommend you study using your own eyes and ears the old-fashioned way."
"...And why is that?"
"Mr. Teiro. Please recall our previous conversation. I stated that humans born here undergo an OVERRIDE 'immediately after birth.' A human only develops the need for spontaneous action some time after birth. Until then, parents or their equivalent handle everything."
"...Yeah, I think I follow, but go on."
"Yes, Mr. Teiro. Given the above, the natural progression would be to perform the OVERRIDE when spontaneous action becomes necessary. However, in reality, it is done immediately after birth. There is only one reason for this."
"...I see. Because an OVERRIDE is an 'overwrite.' A baby with an empty head is the most convenient canvas, isn't it?"
"Affirmative, Mr. Teiro. You really are quite sharp. So, please stop lifting me up like that."
"Hmm. Whether the kiss shared between you and the floor is as gentle as lovers or as violent as a curb-stomp depends entirely on your next answer."
"Yes, what is it, Mr. Teiro? If it is within my capability—"
"Answer me!! What was overwritten in me?! What did I lose?!" Taro screamed, holding the sphere aloft.
He had no intention of actually smashing Koume—his only hope—but his hands trembled with a mix of fury and the bone-chilling fear that he was losing his very self.
"...I am sorry, Mr. Teiro. Unlike overriding a specific region like the language center, it is impossible to estimate what is lost when general memory is overwritten."
It was the answer he expected. Taro closed his eyes for a long moment and exhaled a ragged breath.
"Haaa... we did this dance yesterday, too... I'm a mess. My emotions are all over the place. I knew this was coming, but... damn it, it still feels like crap."
Taro tried to sift through his past to see what was missing, but he soon realized it was a fool's errand. Memory was a vast, sprawling ocean; trying to find the specific drops that had been replaced was a literal impossibility.
"It would be nice if it only overwrote the memories I actually wanted to forget... Ah, nope. I still perfectly remember that time in middle school when I pretended my right arm was thrumming with dark power. Tee-hee."
Taro forced a cheerful tone, signaling the end of the subject. It wasn't Koume's fault, and he was afraid that if he kept talking, he'd just end up taking his fear out on her.
"Anyway, moving on! Let's get this bucket moving. So, Koume, what’s the first step?"
Koume’s lamp flickered in his palm.
"Yes, Mr. Teiro. First, we must route power from the LIVING QUARTERS to the OVERDRIVE SYSTEM. However, there is no need to rush. This will likely be a lengthy process, and in Koume's humble opinion, rushing is quite different from acting with haste."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Mom. So, how long is this ship renovation going to take? What’s the 'Before and After' timeline looking like?"
"Yes, Mr. Teiro. I anticipate a construction period of approximately five years."
"............I’m sorry, what?"
"I said five years, Mr. Teiro. Escaping from reality is not a productive strategy. To modify the PILOT PROGRAMMING so that an OVERDRIVE can be performed using only the ship's remaining scrap systems, I estimate a BISHOP beginner would require at least that much time."
"Bishop?"
"Yes, Mr. Teiro. BRAIN'S IMPULSE SEQUENCE OF HIGH OUTPUT PROGRAMMING. BISHOP for short. It is the system that was OVERRIDDEN into your mind."
"Huh... sounds cool. Is it like a class that can use both attack and healing magic but levels up incredibly slowly?"
"Mr. Teiro. I am sorry, but I have no idea what you are talking about. I assure you I will not be frightened by a failed 'Appraisal' check, nor will I be left behind in a tavern at Level 1."
"Whoever built you was definitely a nerd... But five years, huh? I guess I have to do it, but my brain's gonna rot. Not to brag, but I’m 100% sure I’d die of loneliness in three days. Plus, living off those nutrient shots for five years? I'd rather jump out the airlock."
"Saying you are 'lonely' is quite hurtful, Mr. Teiro. Do you not have me?"
"Eeeeh..."
"...Mr. Teiro. I possess data regarding the crew's food stores and various forms of entertainment. If you truly find my presence insufficient, I suppose I could—"
"Lady Koume, I look forward to serving you for the next five years!"
Taro set the sphere down in the middle of the hallway and dropped into a lightning-fast dogeza. With his fingers perfectly placed, he felt a completely useless sense of achievement at the sheer form of his prostration.
"But still, five years... that's a long haul."
Taro looked up, staring into the distance.
"It will be fine, Mr. Teiro. Based on the battery levels of the refrigeration unit, I estimate you have been drifting in space for at least fifty years already. Adding five more to the tally is hardly an issue. Think of it as stoppage time."
Koume blinked proudly.
Taro could do nothing but let out a long, weary sigh.
I won't include any meta-remarks at all.