Shouts and the clanging of metal echoed through the damp air of the back alley.
"Let go. It was just trash. It was discarded."
"Shut up! If it’s behind our store, it’s our merchandise!"
A petite girl in oversized work clothes stood surrounded by several men.
Large, round ears poked out from her hood—not accessories, but the real thing. She didn't look frightened; instead, her ears twitched restlessly, and she made no effort to hide her mounting irritation.
A rat-eared Biomorph, then. They weren't exactly rare, but for various reasons, it was a look that made people wary of them at first glance.
The girl’s hand was clamped tightly around what looked like an oil-stained circuit board.
One of the men raised his hand to strike her.
"Hey, that’s enough."
I tossed my hot dog wrapper into a nearby bin and stepped between them.
The men spun around.
"Hah? Who the hell are you? Butt out, outsider."
"I’m just passing through, but watching a group of grown men gang up on a little girl leaves a bad taste in my mouth," I said with a shrug.
They looked like typical thugs, though their jackets bore the logo of a nearby parts shop. Most likely they were the store’s bouncers or clerks.
"This isn't bullying. We caught her shoplifting red-handed. The brat stole store equipment."
"That’s a lie," the girl rattled off matter-of-factly. "You call something with leaking fluids and corroded circuits 'equipment'? It doesn't even have an inventory tag. If you’re claiming that’s store property, then your management system is just sloppy."
I see. The girl had scavenged some junk from the waste area behind the shop, and the store was picking a fight by labeling it "theft." It was a common story—trash suddenly becomes a precious asset the moment someone else tries to take it away.
"Alright, alright. Look... how much for the piece of junk?"
"What?"
"If money can settle this, let's just do that. How much do you want for the item she supposedly 'stole'?"
I pulled a Credit Chip from my pocket and toyed with it between my fingers.
The look in the men's eyes shifted instantly.
"...Heh. A rich man's whim, is it? Fine. Let’s say 2,000 credits, including a fee for our trouble."
"Are you kidding me? Don’t be ridiculous!" the girl snapped. "It wouldn't cost that much even if it were brand new!"
I held up a hand to quiet her.
Two thousand, huh? It was a total rip-off, but it was pocket change to me now. Still, it grated on me to simply roll over and play the victim.
"Two thousand... well, it’s not like I can’t pay it."
I flipped the chip into the air and caught it.
Then, I deliberately pulled back the hem of my jacket, offering them a clear glimpse of the holster on my hip. Resting there was the Astro Breaker, a massive-caliber revolver capable of punching through the armor of a giant beast or even a Powered Suit.
"However, I’ve heard the Public Security Organization around here is quite efficient. If a report for extortion and attempted assault comes in at the same time as one for shoplifting, I wonder which one they'll prioritize?"
"Gh—!"
The men’s faces twitched.
They had clearly pegged me as an easy mark or some naive, nouveau-riche merchant, but that perception was being rapidly corrected. They realized the weight on my hip wasn't just a prop for show.
I flashed them a pleasant smile, though I kept my eyes cold.
"I’d prefer to settle this peacefully. Five hundred. Any more than that, and I might start 'defending' myself out of fear for my own safety."
The men exchanged glances and clicked their tongues.
They were weighing the risk of a lethal confrontation with a mercenary against the prospect of five hundred quick credits.
"...Tch, fine. Five hundred and we'll call it even. Now get lost!"
I transferred the 500 credits from my chip, grabbed the girl by the scruff of her neck, and hauled her away from the scene.
Beast ears! It's beast ears!!!
I wonder where I got the impression that engineers should be rats...
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