Chapter 124: The Society for Protecting Children’s Rights

On the bed in my room, I sat with my back against the wall and thought.

If a facility had a gas station inside it, then the normal thing to do would be to fill the tank before heading out.

In that case, their base should be somewhere within the range the truck could travel on the fuel it had used up, centered on the point where we had been attacked.

The navigation system installed in the truck was dead—maybe they had prepared for exactly this situation—so we could not get the base’s precise location from it. Still, by working backward from the fuel, we should have been able to identify the base’s location.

We could not.

“…”

There was no base inside the circled range.

Meaning there was a base we did not know about.

…No. That phrasing was not quite accurate.

I should say: one of their bases was there.

That much was obvious if I looked at the attack points on the Tooth side too.

“Ah—no. Wrong.”

A mutter to myself. As I spoke, I tightened my grip on the bone necklace I had been playing with.

No.

That was not it.

The theory that they had multiple bases did not hold. The enemy was almost certainly a small group. If that was true, there was no merit in scattering their bases. It was more likely that what they had hidden was not a base, but supply points.

Troublesome.

Finding a supply point was harder than finding a base, and even if we did find one, using it well would be difficult.

Should we follow the tracks of a truck that came to resupply?

Not realistic. The wasteland was bleak and empty. It was not as if many vehicles passed through. A long tail was not very practical.

We were probably better off giving up on deriving it from the attack points.

Next.

“…”

A plan I could take came to mind immediately.

The problem was simply that it was a plan I did not want to take. So I wanted to choose another one if I could.

Just selfishness.

I knew that.

I set a timer. A little long—ten minutes. Then I flopped sideways onto the bed, closed my eyes, and let my thoughts run behind the dark of my eyelids.

The timer rang.

“…”

I opened my eyes.

Nothing had come to me.

Then there was no helping it.

If you were weak, if you were not clever, then you had to give something up. Apparently, I did not have enough ability to get away with being selfish.

I would quietly go with the plan I had come up with.

***

I got permission from the upper ranks—Mr. Howard and Karys, who were unlikely to make a fuss and could, to a certain extent, make cold decisions, kept quiet about it to Shinzo, the sentimental type, and E.B., who refused to accept the immature being put on a battlefield.

I walked through the building being used as a school. Classes must have been in session; the empty hallway held only the voices spilling out from the classrooms.

This was bad.

The children who noticed me walking down the hall were losing focus. Some must have mistaken it for a class observation day, because a few looked delighted, while others froze up with nervous tension. I had tried to be considerate since they were in class, but perhaps I should have just called him through the terminal.

While waving back at a boy who was happily waving at me, I ducked into the shadow of a wall and called.

He picked up on the fifth ring.

『Trouble, Hound?』

“Sorry to bother you during class, Alex. Something close to it. Can you talk like this?”

『I don’t have a class this period, so it’s fine—or I’d like to say that, but this sounds like something we should discuss face-to-face. You have Monoz with you, yes? I’ll send you a code. Come there.』

“Understood.”

Call ended.

A moment later, my terminal vibrated, and a code indicating a point arrived. I handed it to Dog Unit, who was accompanying me. It immediately began leading the way.

The place it guided me to was the faculty room.

Well. Yes. Of course. Teachers without classes would be here.

Thinking that, I opened the door. Inside were Alex and Karys, who already knew the situation on our side.

“Should we change locations, Hound?”

Alex removed his sunglasses and indicated Karys with his blue eyes.

“No need. She knows too,” I said.

It was not the sort of thing that required us to sit down, so I continued standing.

“I need you to pick out some child soldiers.”

“Conditions? Number?”

“About ten. Children who look as harmless as possible, and are as strong as possible.”

“Should I prioritize those conditions in the order you just gave them?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask the danger level?”

“Green. Don’t worry, it’s safe. …That is what I’d like to say, but…”

“Yellow?”

I slowly shook my head.

One of Alex’s brows rose.

Still, I had to say it.

“Orange. Have them prepare wills.”

***

I assigned separate missions to Snake Unit and Dog Unit.

Then, with one dog and fifteen Monoz in tow, I slung an unfamiliar shotgun over my shoulder.

I had also swapped out Centipede. Instead of the Hound Model I was used to, I wore Aragane, the cheap mass-produced version.

Throw a ragged cloth over myself in place of a cloak, take seven children dressed the same way, and walk through the wasteland, and there we were: a poor boy mercenary band, assembled in no time at all.

Yes.

The plan was simple.

If we did not know where the place was, we would have them take us there.

I decided to work hard at fishing, using myself as bait.

“Everyone, spread out. Start gathering supplies. Understood? Just like we discussed, emphasize that you’re parentless Sleepers, and make sure the people around you hear that a small pack is about to cross the wasteland.”

“Roger, boss!” 

“We’ll do our best, boss!” 

“We’re off, boss!” 

“Ah… I’ll go with these little ones, so don’t worry, Mr. Touji.” 

“I’m too big, so I’m no good for this. I’ll stick with Pops.” 

“Oh, then I’ll go with you too, Father.” 

“You’re with us. We need you carrying things.”

At my orders, the smaller children burst into excited chatter, and the older ones moved to look after them. One boy was dragged away by a girl, while another took up position beside me with the Monoz in a semi-alert stance.

They were the children Alex had selected as harmless-looking and hard to kill.

Heavies.

Children who wore heavy armor and specialized in taking attacks, or letting them slide off. The Centipedes did not allow the immaturity of their physical abilities to serve as an excuse for being weak.

“…”

That said, the three little ones who had been chattering so happily were still immature in every possible way, and using them as bait left a distinctly unpleasant taste in my mouth.

“Hey, Pops? You’re not taking off the head armor?”

“My face has gotten reasonably well-known.”

In this wasteland, where long-distance communications were dead, the first thing to spread was a name. That was why Doggy House sold people under the names of 『Dogs』. There was still a difference between the previous Hound and me, but Hound was Hound. To people who did not know the details, it would look as if Hound had not changed at all.

After a name spread, the next thing to spread was a face. Back when I had just become Hound, that might have been one thing. But now, after my promotion to Rank 5 and the Crash Race, my face had gotten around. Even in some random town, people were likely to recognize me.

So I hid my face.

『Touji the Hound』 did not suit the leader of a poor boy mercenary band. What suited him was some useless hack in a secondhand Centipede, fumbling with a shotgun whose only virtue was power.

“This is late to ask, but what exactly is that name you’re calling me?”

“? You don’t know? At the camp now, anyone without a family name is treated as either your kid, Mr. Howard’s kid, or Mr. Shinzo’s kid.”

“…”

I had gained children without remembering ever acknowledging paternity.

There was no need to think hard about why. This was probably the result of letting Xena keep calling me Father. I regretted it now. I regretted it, but, unfortunately, it was far too late.

When I asked, I learned that every member of the poor boy mercenary band was being treated as one of my children.

Nothing for it, then.

Papa will do his best so none of you get hurt.

***

We crossed from town to town, spreading the information around as we went.

To keep anyone from doubting that we were a mercenary band, we occasionally took jobs too. And to show how weak we were, if the job looked like something we could afford to fail, we failed it.

Well, to put it simply, we were a common sort of boy mercenary band.

Sleeper children who had gotten lucky and won their freedom, now trying to survive somehow by becoming mercenaries in the wasteland. Their equipment was poor, and their leader was someone whose previous workplace had no use for him—or rather, someone they had not bothered to keep employing.

So they were weak.

Go to any town, and you would find one or two of them.

That kind of mercenary band.

“…Any information?”

“None.”

Two weeks had passed.

Our progress in that time was exactly as one of my daughters had just described it.

Nothing was biting.

“…Could it be my aura as an unmistakably powerful man leaking through?”

“…”

“Is this your rebellious phase?”

I would like her to at least engage with me properly.

“So? What are we actually going to do?”

“…Well, the fish seem to have noticed us, so we continue as we are.”

Experience made the difference.

Even if they had not been caught in her information network, I had caught the fish moving on my side.

Double tailing.

Snake Unit and Dog Unit, both with 【Stealth】, were tailing the ones tailing us. Word had come in through their eyes.

Finally, I thought.

It seemed the number of Monoz had been too high, and the children being able to move in an organized fashion had been a problem. Apparently, we had been viewed as a highly trained unit and treated with caution… but at long last, they seemed to have recognized us as prey.

“There will likely be an attack during our next move. Inform everyone.”

“Understood.”

We knew they were coming.

That meant we could even be kidnapped safely.

The setup had taken time, but now I could finally start thinking about how to cook the fish I had reeled in.

“Excuse me. Are you the one in charge of this group?”

There stood that nostalgic person I had not particularly wanted to see again: the bastard himself, our esteemed staff officer, Caster.

Glad to see you looking well.

“…”

My honest thought was: You were still alive?

***

“I have power. And because I have power, I have a responsibility to use it for people.”

Apparently, Caster had started doing drugs.

He began saying things I felt like I had heard in Spider-Man.

If those with power had a responsibility, then my personal opinion was that powerless incompetents like him should please take responsibility by doing nothing at all.

For some mysterious reason, however, society apparently disagreed.

“That conviction—yes!”

“I’m powerless myself, but I’ll lend you what strength I’ve got!”

“I too will offer what little help I can!”

Somehow, he had gained followers.

Caster included, there were two men and two women—college-age types gathered around him, flashing their teeth every time they spoke.

Was this a religion?

“Thank you, everyone. Nothing could be more reassuring! With all of you here, there’s nothing we can’t do!”

A religion, then.

I was certain.

I wanted to move seats. I did not want to have a conversation. I was a typical Japanese person, and I carried the prejudice that religion equaled suspicious. That did not mean I discriminated. I did not. So stay the hell away from me.

“…”

For one thing, Caster knew my face. While I was in the middle of an infiltration mission, it would be bad if my identity got exposed, so I could not even remove Aragane’s head armor. The useless man’s nonsense rang in my ears. Loud. There was a saying: A hundred harms and not one benefit. Perfect fit. Though I wanted to make it a little cruder and say, You are nothing but harm, so shut up. I could not laugh. It was enough to make me cry.

“Um, so… What exactly do you want from us?”

I raised my right hand modestly and asked my question. Directed at the four-person group who looked like they belonged in a tennis club. Prejudice.

“Ah, right. We’re with this.”

He handed me a business card.

It read: 『Society for Thinking About the Future of Children』.

What mattered was not what was said, but who said it.

“…”

I had no intention of accepting it, so I returned it. I flicked it with a finger, sending it skimming across the table back to Caster.

“I get why you’d be worried! But relax, bro! This guy’s a veteran of the Hundred and Ninth Defense Battle, the war against the Insectum!”

“Well, well—”

How reassuring.

It was just sad that I had probably been part of the main force in that defense battle, while the incompetent over there had only been lying on the floor.