Chapter 65: Every Day Is a Good Day

Sheep Unit opened its mouth wide, so I reached inside to see what it had brought.

Out came a steaming towel. I handed it to the man in front of me, and he leaned back hard in his chair, making full use of the backrest, tilted his head up, and laid the towel across his eyes.

He pressed it down with a long, weary groan.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh…”

The sound was pure middle-aged man.

Well, to be fair, he was a middle-aged man.

Howard Wargman—this camp’s one and only proper adult of the current era.

That rare distinction meant every bit of paperwork ended up on his desk. Even before I left camp, his workload had been bad. Now, it had doubled.

He had my sympathies.

“Want me to rub your shoulders?”

At that, his head drooped forward like a puppet whose strings had been cut—a nod, or maybe just collapse. I stood behind him and pressed my thumbs into his shoulders. My fingers wouldn’t sink in. Too stiff.

“You’re tense.”

“Right? That’s how much I’ve been working. …So, hound, what brings you to me?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…”

“Oh—fifty-one, counting the adults.”

“…And what exactly am I supposed to do with that?”

“I’m asking for your help.”

“…And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll ask again. Politely.”

A guttural ubwaaahh sort of sound leaked from Howard’s mouth. One long exhale, thick with despair. Impressive lung capacity, really.

“Hound.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t like you.”

“That’s a shame. I like you, Howard. You’re the kind of man who listens to unreasonable requests.”

As I spoke, I dug my elbow into his shoulder. That was the only way to make a dent.

“…We don’t have the money.”

“I’ll hand over what I earned on the last job. Then I’ll pick up more work through Doggy House.”

“Try hunting a bounty. Big payout on those.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll handle interviews with the adults, and… no, the kids too. Bring everyone.”

“The kids too?”

The adults, sure—that made sense. Many of them had survived on their own before this. It wasn’t even clear if they planned to stay in the camp long term.

But the children? That seemed unnecessary.

“I built a school,” Howard said. “Haven’t managed more than dividing lessons into basic tech and combat tracks yet. …Also hired teachers. Make sure you meet them later, Representative Hound.”

“I see.”

Time was moving on. With it, things changed. Shinzo and Howard had been busy shaping the camp while I was gone.

On a side note, I tried working through one of the textbooks they were using.

“‘History of Japan…’”

“Old stuff, yeah. Doesn’t do much good, but it’s one of the more popular subjects.”

“…Right. This must be from a time after I went to sleep.”

“For the record, the answer to that one’s Oda Nobunaga.”

“…So the Oda kid made it big, huh…?”

My chest tightened with something oddly like pride.

“What era are you even claiming to be from, you lunatic…”

Shinzo’s look was ice-cold.

***

There’s a thing called a doppelganger.

Another you.

See it, and you die.

That kind of thing.

Lately, I’ve been seeing doppelgangers.

Not mine, though.

Monkey Unit, Rooster Unit, and Dog Unit’s.

Nothing supernatural—just the latest trend sweeping through the Monoz at camp. Apparently, the Dom-style build those three use has become popular. Unfortunately, very popular.

Naturally, there are plenty of Monoz at the camp besides my own. Among them, a few of the kids apprenticed to the combat corps have started modifying their Monoz into Doms too.

Now it’s impossible to tell who’s who, and I really, really wish they’d stop.

“Toji-san, could you please say something to them too?”

The kids seemed exasperated. Representing the rest, Souta from the tech division came to complain.

He worked under Akito and could manage simple modifications on his own.

In other words, changing the visor into a cross-window or giving it a new paint job. Recently, that’s all the Monoz at camp ever asked him to do.

“…At least tell them to add some kind of identifying mark,” I said.

But the Monoz themselves looked so happy about it that it was hard to scold them. What on earth did they find so fun about this?

Curious, I decided to investigate.

I grabbed Rabbit Unit.

After its recent body upgrade, Rabbit Unit could now produce and operate small glass-ball drones—perfect for surveillance work like this.

But it didn’t look thrilled.

Probably wanted to spend its day off sunbathing.

—…

Stare.

In silence, it gave me a look that felt suspiciously like protest.

How cheeky.

Most of the Monoz have full-blown corporate-slave mentalities, but apparently Rabbit Unit isn’t one of them. Because it’s a rabbit? Is that it? Should I rename it Turtle Unit?

Well, fine. If it’s about character, I’ll play along. I transferred five hundred electronic points.

Pocket money, roughly elementary-school level.

—Beep!

Response: Mission accepted!

Apparently, that was good enough. It immediately started chewing through metal scraps, a few electronic parts, and some glass sand.

Twenty minutes later, it spat out five gacha-sized glass spheres, each containing a camera and a mic.

The camp wasn’t exactly in a Tree Crystal zone, but with Monoz wandering around, there was still some interference. The drones couldn’t go too far, so Rabbit Unit and I would follow their movements ourselves.

I picked up the small Rabbit Unit.

Its new metal body made it noticeably heavier than the old silicone one.

The back of its body split open, and a small monitor unfolded. Five windows—each corresponding to one of the cameras.

And thus began our grand and thrilling little investigation.

***

For now, I decided to track down the source of the craze—Monkey Unit, Rooster Unit, and Dog Unit.

But there was one problem.

The three of them got along well enough, but they didn’t spend much time together off duty. Monkey Unit was usually off tinkering with Tiger Unit, building weird contraptions. Rooster Unit liked to travel and take landscape photos. Dog Unit was either training or playing “Electronic Shogi” with Rat Unit.

The easiest one to tail would be Dog Unit. It didn’t have the 【Search】 skill, and when it was focused on shogi it dropped its guard completely.

Unfortunately, Rat Unit—its opponent—did have 【Search】, and Rooster Unit’s detection skill was even higher.

So I went with the only real option: follow Monkey Unit.

Monkey and Tiger were at the playground where the smaller kids, the ones who hadn’t yet had their spines replaced, liked to play.

They were building a slide.

A slide without stairs—one you had to pull yourself up using a pulley system, meaning it couldn’t be used unless at least two people worked together.

Amazing.

An educational playground toy that taught kids about pulley mechanics, improved physical strength through rope-pulling, and encouraged teamwork.

That kind of slide.

Actually… I kind of wanted to try it myself.

I’d have to come back sometime with Shinzo or Eevee and give it a go.

After finishing their final safety checks, Monkey and Tiger stood back to watch the kids play, making sure everything was safe.

About an hour passed.

Then Monkey sent a message to Tiger and started moving.

The ball drone followed.

Along the way, more and more of the Dom-style Monoz joined up.

Oh-ho. Here we go—finally the real deal?

“…Rabbit Unit, pull back a little.”

I knew the abilities of my own Monoz, but not the others’. If any of them had 【Search】, that would be trouble.

Rabbit Unit and I moved carefully, trailing the drones while staying out of range, relocating only when it was safe to do so. Eventually, the drones arrived at the edge of town—at some mysterious clearing where a scarecrow had been set up.

The Dom Monoz were gathering around it in clusters.

Like stray cats at a nighttime meeting.

And the boss cats among them—the Monoz leading the whole group—were, of course, the three I knew: Monkey, Rooster, and Dog.

The three stood before the scarecrow, surrounded by the others.

Then—

“Ah. A Jet Stream Attack.”

The combination assault I’d seen countless times on the battlefield slammed into the scarecrow.

And soon after, the other Monoz began copying it in trios, attacking the scarecrow in perfect imitation.

Dog Unit and the others were giving them pointers—judging by the flashes from their comms, advice, probably.

“…”

They’d started a Jet Stream Attack dojo.

Training went on and on.

And I—

I was moved.

The kids had no idea this was happening. Which meant the Monoz were doing it of their own free will.

How wonderful. What good little machines.

Damn it, Rabbit Unit, the image quality’s degrading…

But then, someone showed up to ruin the moment.

Eevee—probably out for a walk—came strolling by, munching on a pancake. She stopped, watched the Monoz training for a while—

『Hmm.』

Then, for reasons known only to her, she kept the paper bag in her right hand and—

『—』

—with her left, gave Dog Unit and the others a come on gesture.

Dog Unit and company were not about to let that slide. They launched a Jet Stream Attack.

Dog Unit was used as a springboard again.

…Well, that happens often enough. They’re used to it by now.

Already prepared, Monkey sprang into the air after Eevee, who’d leapt clear into the open sky—

and was immediately kicked back down into Rooster.

The Jet Stream Attack was broken.

『Your footwork’s weak!』

She shouted it with the confidence of a true martial arts master.