Chapter 22: Thunderbolt

The trailer that traveled between cities, peddling its wares, carried the smell of beasts.

Not metaphorically.

It was the literal scent of animals.

Dogs, cats, birds—genetically engineered, these creatures were no longer kept as pets in this era. They were comrades-in-arms.

Asherica, the one who accompanied Master, was a perfect example.

The lady with the beautiful black coat would transform into a soldier the moment she encountered an enemy on the battlefield.

She’d saved me more than once.

So when Master told me to get a dog of my own, I didn’t argue.

As natural-born hunters, they’d no doubt become a great asset to me.

“You may have inherited the Hound title, but you’re still a puppy. So make sure you pick a proper pup.”

“…Right.”

I took that to mean I wasn’t ready to handle a gentleman or a lady just yet.

While Master browsed among the trained adults to find a match for Asherica, I followed Eevee toward the section housing the young ones.

“…”

Tiny furballs wriggled and tumbled about in every direction. In the center, inside a wide pen that resembled a little playfield, the puppies frolicked together in adorable chaos.

“Ow!”

Eevee, momentarily possessed by the cuteness, reached out to pet one and got bitten on the hand by a brown puppy. She must’ve reached out with her Tooth arm, and the pup had seen it as a threat. 

That one might have potential. Eevee seemed to think so too. Grinning, she pointed eagerly at the brown puppy.

“Touji, let’s take this one! The others all flinched and ran off, but this guy bit me! He’s a warrior!”

“I’d like that one, please.”

While gently telling the still-excited Eevee to calm down, I accepted the growling pup from the handler and held him in my arms. He was soft. Warm.

Brown, with a fox-like face. His tail looked a bit like a fox’s too. Long torso, short legs. I’d gotten so used to seeing Asherica—who was a greyhound—that something about this body type felt off.

“…Let’s see.” I checked. “Male.”

He sniffed at my chest, then at my face, and for some reason began to climb up toward my shoulder. I nearly dropped him. I wished he’d settle down a little.

“There, there. Good boy, aren’t you?”

Eevee reached out again, undeterred, only to be barked at. A jolt ran through me. I almost dropped the pup for real that time and instinctively tightened my hold. Static? Maybe I shouldn’t touch him too much. When I set him down, he moved behind me and began barking at Eevee, using me as a shield.

“Huh?”

Each time he barked, the air around him crackled and popped.

What?

“Ah, that one’s a Thunderbolt-type,” the shopkeeper informed me.

Okay, but—what does that mean?

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s the breed. He’s a Welsh Corgi Pembroke—Thunderbolt.”

“…”

That was long. And also, why was there something extra tacked onto the name of a regular dog breed? I decided to ask about a few others for comparison.

“What about that one?”

“A Toy Poodle—Shapeshifter.”

“And that Siberian Husky over there?”

“Siberian Husky—Fireball.”

“What about the one with the long body and short legs?”

“Oh, that’s also a Thunderbolt type. Dachshund—Thunderbolt.”

“Then that kitten over there—could it be…?”

“Maine Coon—Sharp Edge.”

“…Lastly, what about that one over there that looks like this guy?”

“That’s a Welsh Corgi Pembroke—Crystal Armor. Are you looking for a corgi?”

“No.”

That wasn’t the point.

Five hundred years into the future, dogs and cats had all caught a case of eighth-grader syndrome. Maybe Asherica had it too?

***

Apparently, Asherica belonged to a breed called Greyhound—Boosted.

Not a human with enhanced abilities, but a dog with abilities—an ability-dog, so to speak.

No wonder she could rip off an Ant’s head with a death roll. I used to think dogs were just strong, but really, it was Asherica who was strong.

Now that a mate had been chosen for her, Master was truly retiring.

Once I registered at Doggy House, the mercenary company Master had belonged to—and that I somehow ended up joining—I would officially graduate from a Hound Puppy to a full-fledged Hound.

That was fine.

The real problem was my Monoz units. Especially the small ones. They were in trouble.

My Monoz loadout was as follows:

Large units: Ox Unit, Tiger Unit, Dragon Unit, Horse Unit, Boar Unit.

Medium units: Sheep Unit, Monkey Unit, Dog Unit.

Small units: Rat Unit, Rabbit Unit, Snake Unit, Rooster Unit.

At the moment, all four small units were in danger.

Maybe it was because of their unfortunate size—about as big as a soccer ball. Or maybe because of their unfortunate means of movement—rolling.

Even now, Rabbit Unit was being tormented.

I could hear a soft, anxious-sounding whimper: Hawawa-hawan… 

It was the sound of a puppy gleefully playing with Rabbit Unit. Its tail wagged like a fan, and the puppy looked like it was having a blast. Rabbit Unit, however, had lost all light from its eyes. That thousand-yard stare—yeah, that’s the one. I didn’t blame it, either; it was soaked in drool.

The body they were using was called Esus, a Monoz body model manufactured by Arawn Corporation.

Rat Unit and Rabbit Unit both used this frame.

Designed primarily for information warfare, the Esus model’s sensitive internal mechanisms were cushioned not with metal, but with layers of silicon.

Apparently, the puppies liked the texture.

Rat and Rabbit Units were especially prone to this kind of treatment.

Puppies had itchy teeth, so it couldn’t be helped. Still, I wished they wouldn’t leave bite marks.

“Rudo.”

With no other choice, I called out his name, a piece of jerky in my hand.

Hyahn!

Came a delighted yelp as Rudo—short for Rudolf—came thundering over. He sat up straight, but his hindquarters trembled, halfway off the ground. He could barely contain himself. His eyes were locked on my right hand and wouldn’t budge.

In the distance, I saw Ugo being hauled off. Good work, little guy.

“Stay.”

I figured I’d start by teaching Rudolf who was boss.

Ah, by the way, as for the name Rudolf—it came from a long list of suggestions that Master, Eevee, and I had all come up with. That’s how he ended up with the name Rudolf, even though he wasn’t black and wasn’t a cat.

Well, the reference would only make sense to those who got it.