Transaction

The Karaaf Front Army achieved a record victory. Yet it did not alter the course of the war.

Ultimately, it held no meaning beyond a delaying engagement. Time was what the current Karaaf Front Army needed most.

—We gained time to evacuate civilians—

(Those lizards look foolish, but they’re surprisingly tough.)

—They’re strong enough to bring humanity to the brink of extinction—

(Things feel a little quieter here now.)

From the streets of Oxanun, human figures gradually disappeared.

Naturally. A continent on the verge of collapse. The enemy were reptilian beings who did not negotiate. Defeat meant death.

Even so, vendors who had tirelessly operated simple eateries and entertainment stalls for the soldiers—those who had literally worn themselves down—had now begun relocating to Audar.

(If we’d held the advantage, the state of this city might have been different.)

but to do it would be too difficult”

thought he’d achieved the best possible result, yet perhaps not quite so.

The city is dying. Lights go out. Voices vanish.

Clouded skies and smoke—this is all Oxanun has left. Soldiers lower their heads under the strain of battle, yet continue to follow orders.

Their silent efforts keep Oxanun barely intact.

—Salute to the Diamond Frame.

May its flawless brilliance illuminate Cytalskia.

The officer, who had been smoking in front of the supply depot, stands at attention upon seeing Io.

The surrounding soldiers drop their supplies and follow suit.

—Salute to the Diamond Frame.

—Huh. …A salute to the deadliest killer in our army.

A tech officer in a frayed shirt. A soldier in armor with a weapon rack, pre-deployment. A medical technician.

All of them stare at Io with burning eyes. The avatar returns the salute instinctively.

“Together, at the dawn of humanity.”

“Together at dawn!”

Walking through the crowd. Only then do the soldiers return to their duties.

Yet he keeps moving. Each time he passes someone, they snap to attention and salute.

Seems to be the routine lately. This makes private conversations difficult.

(How far must I go?)

—Enter the alley to your right. At the end, there’s an abandoned house.

That’s the location designated for Vitto Crouan.

Walking atop a side ditch lined with high-strength expanded metal.

Walking atop sewage, the stench is unbearable. The alleyway is littered with unidentified equipment, discarded and thoroughly fouled.

'An architectural relic from over a century ago. Structural materials contain numerous hazardous substances, some of which interfere with signal interception and surveillance.'

(That’s right—this feels like a clandestine meeting.)

'Contact detected ahead. Observing us.'

Rust-colored wall. The original color is impossible to determine.

A derelict house, quietly standing in a neglected alley of a port town.

Such places have a certain charm. The glass windows, so filthy they obscure the interior, match the atmosphere perfectly.

'Hello, Mister.'

A female voice. The source of the biological signal Goblet had reported.

From the shadow of the designated building, a woman emerges, wearing a gray work apron.

Her long hair is clumsily tied back. She wears heavy boots. She resembles a laborer from Oxanun.

How荣幸 to meet you here. Please, let me treat you to a Sirejity?

Sirejity refers to any tea made using citrus pulp.

(Doesn't matter. So this one’s a courier for Vitto?)

Io offered a forced smile and accepted the woman’s invitation.

Events like this feel like espionage—somehow thrilling.

——

Inside the house, the atmosphere was unmistakably that of a haunted mansion. The floorboards looked ready to collapse, and no spot was free of dust.

Yet, on the antique round table in the living room, brand-new equipment sat in perfect order.

Communication gear.

Handle it carefully. This unit costs half a year’s salary for me.

The woman who guided Io inside spoke briskly, untying her clumsy hair.

Just forty seconds ago, she’d seemed a gentle, unassuming citizen. Now, not a trace of that remained.

Sergeant Io, forty seconds late. Not much time left.

Right. My apologies. Had to endure dangerous medicine at the bush doctor’s.

…Varneseg Hospital? How’s your body? We have stimulants if needed.

That’s what it was called. Too indifferent to remember.

Medications are neutralized. No longer an issue.

…Chairman is waiting. Just checking—any eavesdropping devices?

—Already neutralized.

So they were planted after all. Sergeant Io gives a dry smile in reply.

It’s fine.

Connecting.

Ah. The eyes are similar. Vitto Crouan’s features truly suggest blood ties to Camille Crouan.

Advanced age shows in the face, yet vitality remains strong.

—Private channel, yet it’s an honor to speak with you, Mister Io.

—The sentiment is mutual, Chairman.

—No longer a chairman. That title doesn’t suit me after fleeing Duayenne.

—Hm?

Cropped hair. Sharp eyes. Precision-trimmed mustache.

Broad frame. Solid build. The presence of a man who has seen decades of command. Speaks with humility, but what lies beneath?

This is the man Camille Crouan despises. Not someone easily read.

—But you’re not done yet.

—That’s a phrase open to interpretation. …Yes, if you insist—I’ll say it plainly.

As a human being of the Sitalskia, and as former President of the Duayenne Provincial Assembly, I’ve always believed I must do something for the people.

—Something. Seems you’re ready to get to the point.

—Yes. Time is limited for both of us.

Io glanced at the woman leaning against the wall in the corner of the room.

She smiled faintly and gave Io a nod—unknown what her position was, but what did she expect from this clandestine meeting?

“You reclaimed the sub-support from Oxanun. That place does have sufficient capacity.

If you present a clear plan, even in my current position, rallying additional rescue convoys wouldn’t be difficult.”

“Ah, you’ll become a savior to the children. They won’t forget what you’ve done, even when they grow older.”

“Maybe. It’s pleasant to see more people trusting me.

I aim to speak for the people. But whatever I do, I still need their help.”

Io scratched his neck. What a roundabout way of putting it.

Io himself could be just as theatrical, just as fond of dramatic lines—yet still, he found it tiresome.

This character, being a politician, really knows how to phrase things in any way imaginable.

Io had intended to say that the number of boy soldiers he’d freed would directly translate into future election votes.

But it was brushed aside with effortless ease.

— Mister Io. How refreshingly straightforward you are.

— ……Kharuf is swamped right now. If I waste time on idle talk, I’ll get kicked in the backside.

— I see. I understand. I’ll try to be a little more straightforward myself.

Vittō straightened his posture on the monitor’s far side, then leaned forward abruptly.

— Assisting my supporters is my duty.

More precisely, helping those who will one day become my supporters is also my duty.

I’ve gathered and analyzed information from across the Audar continent. There’s no room for slack anymore.

The politicians of Sitalus Universal will work for Audar's supporters. They will not save the citizens of Karaf in any ultimate sense.

This is expected. No resentment. But precisely because of that, I can proceed without hesitation.

You understand that as a Duienne politician, you have an obligation to save citizens from Karaf.

No need for pretense. Vito said he would fulfill his duty.

Miss Natalie is a remarkably intelligent and decisive woman.

That came out of nowhere.

Her information proved invaluable. She understands the people's mindset. Knows exactly how to speak to them.

Arrange the convoy. Life after escape can be secured to a degree.

But as I said earlier, this requires the help of many people.

Io’s eyes sharpened. The fate of the boy soldiers after escape was a major concern.

Saying ‘I survived, but got thrown into a prison and turned BADEND’ wasn’t an option.

No—far worse endings could be imagined.

‘Mr. Io. People are never truly cruel. Humans are emotional creatures.

If we speak to them correctly, who would abandon children?’

“So you’re saying we can do it?”

‘Just bear with my roundabout explanation for a moment.

We can appeal for understanding. But some intellectuals will oppose us directly.

They speak of ‘efficient allocation of limited resources.’ From a national strength or military standpoint, that’s the most logical path.

Fighting Weedran? One must cut someone loose somewhere. That’s what they claim.’

They mock me and my comrades as shortsighted. I think the same of them.

The youths are tomorrow’s generation. In another decade, they should be skilled technicians and laborers sustaining Sitalskia.

Abandoning them—doesn’t that make the real shortsightedness?

I have confidence I can sway people without them. But when I consider what comes after, I cannot help but want to convince them.

Vittō speaks with heat. The woman glances meaningfully at Io and clicks her fingers in a wink.

No idea what kind of reaction is expected.

I’m not a politician, but I agree on this. I understand the point.

So let’s get specific from here.

What is it you actually need?

……I used the word “convince” just now. That’s incorrect.

Strictly speaking, it’s tacit approval. No time for patient persuasion. Both you and I must silence our opponents swiftly.

You’re questioning the “Kuraf Virus Treatment”?

Io studied Vittō’s face with interest. His expression twisted oddly.

Apparently, Io was smiling.

Information Io had previously had Goblet gather. But the data was inherently classified, and Goblet had allocated little resource to it, so there had been no follow-up.

I harbor doubts about the Kuraf Virus.

The lizards’ weaponry, yet they cannot control it.

And humanity developed the cure far earlier than the lizards ever did.

That’s sufficient reason to doubt. Let’s skip the details.

I want you to investigate Salor Banker.

A name still fresh in memory.

Earlier, when rescuing Moimisuka, I briefly stopped to shake off the enemy.

Afterward, I conducted joint operations with Sinclair’s Charger and infiltrated Scordy Pool. Killed one lizard officer.

Warm darkness. The unpleasant atmosphere of a subterranean bunker littered with the corpse of a red crest.

What’s there?

Salor isn’t a sealed bunker. It was still operating as a research facility not long ago.

A virus? Source?

I can’t tell you. I know it’s dishonest, but I absolutely need Salor’s data.

Salor’s vicinity is fully under Weedran control. Intelligence must be acquired in secret.

My associates can’t solve this problem.

No hesitation. At this point, Io has no one to rely on but Chairman Kouranjé.

The danger was obvious. But for Io, the thrill was pleasure, and in any case, being reminded of children left no choice but to agree.

— This is a dangerous request. And you might have to see something repulsive.

— Do you have a plan?

— You’re saying you’ll accept it, then?

Io shrugged.

— The answer is yes, Chairman.

But swear it. Get the children out.