Isono wore spiked, short-sleeved leather gear over his bare skin, flaunting his muscles. On top of that, he donned a helmet that radiated stupidity. He’d even applied heavy eye shadow for effect.
Since Nakajima wore glasses, she opted for a full-face helmet, though she’d modified it with a mohawk. Eddy, our poor victim, had a star painted across his face. Even in a leather jacket with shoulder pads, he couldn't quite hide his natural refinement.
As for me, I wore a beast-hide top that left one nipple exposed, paired with skin-tight leather pants. A mysterious chain hung from my neck. Because I have a bit of a pretty-boy face, I’d thrown on a hooded mantle made from a bear’s head—borrowed from the locals—complete with metal shoulder pads. To finish the look, I added eye shadow and a fake loach mustache.
"I... LIKE... POTATOES! Uooooooooo!"
I thrust my battleaxe into the air.
"Uoooooooooo!"
All of us, our cultural standards having completely plummeted, let out a collective war cry. Isono strummed his guitar, and a blast of fire shot out. A flamethrower guitar was an absolute necessity for this look.
This was the state in which we prepared to face the Ozen Alliance. I mean, we’d never met them before, so why not? They were idiots, honestly. Our intel suggested the Ozen people viewed those from Magellan as 'savages from an undeveloped frontier planet,' so we planned to play the part of the barbarian as convincingly as possible.
Communication was impossible anyway. Because Ozen looked down on Magellan from the bottom of their hearts, they had implemented a 'word hunt'—the Magellan Language Elimination Movement. As a result, the two sides could no longer even converse. It was a bizarre policy that only served to weaken their own country, but whatever.
Our warships were stationed out of sight. The locals we’d rescued were camouflaged to look like they were being forced into 'incomprehensible labor.' Since we needed to mill some flour anyway, we had them turning those fantasy-staple 'Grind-it-around Sticks.'
So, there we were, stationed in the village in our 'Magellan traditional attire'—also known as post-apocalyptic Hyahhaa equipment. A few others were dressed in standard Magellan Army uniforms.
The Ozen representative arrived looking like an Evil Magistrate. Apparently, that was their version of traditional clothing. It wasn't quite the Echigoya-style I expected, but rather a garish, primary-colored striped pattern. Very slave-merchant-chic.
"Fushuru... fushuru..."
His breathing was incredibly loud. One look at him told me his heart was in terrible shape. His face was bloated. I glanced at Kevin, who was disguised as a Magellan Army Secretary. I couldn't help but notice the chest of his uniform didn't quite fit; it was bursting at the seams.
Oblivious to his own wardrobe malfunction, Kevin whispered to me, "I'm still just a resident, but... I can't help but be worried about him."
"Order some heart meds," I replied.
"Got it."
I signaled Nakajima. She caught my drift and slipped out of the tent to tell the medics to prep the medicine. Man, I hated this meeting already.
"Ugh!" the old man groaned.
"YOU OKAY?" I barked in broken Magellanic, intentionally making it hard to understand.
"N-No... please, do not concern yourself."
He seemed to catch the gist, but he clearly wasn't okay. Isono gulped. The tension in the room was palpable—mostly because we were all worried the enemy representative might drop dead on us.
I decided to start with some stalling tactics.
"THERE IS A NUTRIENT THAT CAN ONLY BE INGESTED FROM A PLAIN CLASS REPRESENTATIVE!" I shouted.
Isono 'translated' into Latarnia. It didn't matter what he said; they wouldn't understand the original anyway.
"My lord says the ruins have been found and excavation is underway."
"Fushuru. That is excellent news."
"AN AFTER-SCHOOL DATE WITH OTAKU FRIENDS!"
"My lord asks if the Locusts are ready yet."
"Fushuru. Once the ruins are fully excavated, I promise you a quantity capable of wiping out the Capital Planet."
"WHY DON'T GYARU WHO ARE NICE TO OTAKUS EXIST!?" I roared, slamming the table.
"Hiee!" the man squeaked.
"My lord says to hand them over immediately!"
"N-No... but..."
"GIVE ME A ROMANCE LIKE IN A DOUJINSHI!" I yelled, thrusting my axe toward him.
"Hiee!"
For some reason, the man started foaming at the mouth after witnessing my little performance. I caught the eyes of his guards and flashed a grin.
"Everyone, under arrest!"
I lunged at the guards and flattened them. Isono, Eddy, and Nakajima moved in to suppress the rest. Outside, the locals used casting nets to capture the remaining guards. The grain flour we’d produced with the Grind-it-around Machines was being exchanged for food, though since it was likely contaminated, we planned to dispose of it after analysis.
Meanwhile, Kevin was working desperately to resuscitate the old man. He’d switched a medical drone to resuscitation mode and hooked it up. As the drone performed chest massages, the medics arrived, turning the scene into a chaotic mess.
Regardless of the health crisis, we’d successfully arrested the Ozen contingent. Now we just had to squeeze them for information. While the old man was rushed to the ICU, I turned my attention to the guards.
"Affiliation?"
"The Magellan Liberation Front!"
"Liar! You didn't even recognize our outfits or our language!"
"You Chronosian swine!"
Being called a swine didn't bother me, but I wasn't sure how the actual Chronosian soldiers felt about it.
"We're going to step out for a moment," I said, patting a Chronosian soldier on the shoulder with a wicked grin. It was time to pass the baton.
"We promise our absolute loyalty to His Majesty," the soldier replied, smiling as he pulled on his leather gloves.
"Don't kill them, okay?"
"We're just going to go... pick some flowers," I added.
"H-Hey! I'm a prisoner of war!"
"Well, you're not regular military, are you? That makes you pirates. And we have no mercy for Space Pirates. Toodles!"
"S-Stop!"
I ignored him. Even Raven-kun was wearing a pleasant, sunny smile.
After a quick bathroom break and a detour, I headed over to where Ren and the locals were gathered.
"Oh, Darling," Ren greeted me.
"How’s the powder?"
"It’s in the analyzer now."
"Roger that. Everyone, you've worked hard. Please, take a break."
"The Queen's husband is so kind..." a local murmured. Even through the translator, the sorrow in their voice was evident.
Apparently, the king who ruled here before me had been a real piece of work—the type who’d burn a village to the ground if they missed a tax payment. He’d been the first one killed when the Magellanics arrived, but the invaders had burned the capital down anyway without a second thought. They probably hadn't even bothered to negotiate, opting to just lob missiles from orbit before landing because it was easier.
The people of Magellan were sloppy in everything they did, which was likely why no one treated them as civilized. Ozen wasn't much better. Both empires were hated because their laziness only ever made things worse. It made me realize just how sincere Latarnia really was by comparison.
"Ren, you should rest too."
"I will. And you, Darling?"
"I’ll walk around for another ten minutes or so, then I’ll head back to the interrogation."
I had to get back before the soldiers actually killed the prisoners, but if I returned too early, I’d be robbing them of their chance to vent. It was a delicate balance.