Episode 41: Stretching His Wings in the Commercial District

Dawson's leave continues.

He moves away from the dining district and enters the commercial district—shopping mall.

A straight corridor extends ahead, flanked on both sides by numerous shops. Sizes range from small storefronts barely larger than a single room to massive establishments stretching over one hundred meters in length. The variety of shops is broad—ranging from vendors selling small goods to those cataloging spacecraft equipment.

Through this diverse array of shops, Dawson walks with the air of a tourist.

"Still, the selection here is different from home."

S.U. products assault the eyes with bold, glaring colors, a stark contrast to the subdued hues common in Amato Imperial Japan.

A good example is the blaster—offering a wide range of colors, from intense black to painfully bright gold.

"Why enforce a ban on bright toy colors? They’re illegal, so why the need to police them?"

Dawson wondered why a firearm with toy-like coloring would not sell well, given how visually appealing it seemed. Yet he had no intention of replacing his current weapon, so he left the firearms shop.

Inside the clothing store, garments of various sizes and colors lined the racks. What struck Dawson was that each piece was manufactured to standardized measurements—not just for body size and height, but also for arm and leg length. A wide selection of space suits was available, ranging from thin, form-fitting models to bulky, costume-like ones.

Among the racks, pirates stood, discussing various space suits in front of the display.

"Still, shouldn’t the color and appearance of space suits be standardized?"

"Idiot. We're space pirates. Isn't it more fitting to be mismatched? That's what makes us outlaws."

"Back in the old days, gang members all wore the same outfit, I heard."

Male pirates gathered. If appearance were to be unified, they began comparing functional specs of various space suits.

In a group dominated by women, conversation focused entirely on aesthetics.

"Uwah, this is super cute."

"Add crystal detailing and it'd be even better."

"But it's way too expensive. This one's cuter and cheaper."

They squealed, swapping items back and forth.

Dawson thought, even pirates differ by gender. He left the clothing shop.

Dawson sat on a bench, sipping a sweet coffee drink through a straw. The flavor spread across his mouth—consistent with the quality of a well-known chain store purchase.

After circling the commercial district, Dawson concluded the area served purposes beyond commerce.

"If you need something, buy it online. Ships from the port pirate fleet deliver it automatically."

Years had passed since humanity expanded into space. Shopping in virtual space had become routine. In fact, purchasing goods born on distant stars required online shopping.

Then why did commercial districts exist, with numerous shops clustered inside?

Dawson’s impression was that it functioned as an amusement facility.

"It exists not for shopping alone, but to provide enjoyable experiences through shopping."

Piracy functioned as a self-contained lifestyle aboard a pirate vessel. A crew could hunt targets in space, earn currency, resupply at a port of return, rest briefly, and then launch again—all while remaining aboard their ship.

But humans grew restless and bored when exposed to the same scenery and actions for extended periods. Occasionally, they needed to leave the ship and stretch their limbs fully.

Commercial districts provided the ideal space for such release.

Touching a physical product they had intended to purchase created room for imagining life after purchase. Encountering unexpected items beyond personal expectations delivered new stimulation. Impulse buying an object of sudden attraction fulfilled material desire.

Such outlets for imagination, stimulation, and desire were necessary actions to reclaim humanity.

The commercial sector could be described as a place where pirates could return to humanity.

“That may be an exaggeration.”

Dawson mocked his own absurd idea, drained the remaining contents of the paper coffee cup, and tossed it into the trash bin.

He then approached the spatial projection display’s information board and waved his hand in front of it. The display responded, the ads scrolling across the screen ceased, and a map of the commercial sector with a search bar appeared.

After studying the information board, Dawson performed the actions aligned with his objective.

He selected the map, then tapped the wide-area map field three times. The view shifted from a local map near his current location to a full map of the commercial sector. Then, through maps of the surrounding areas, it transitioned to a complete map of Chicken Ball.

Dawson read the general layout of Chicken Ball from the map, scanning for locations that seemed interesting.

Chicken Ball, as a pirate base satellite, contained many sections unnecessary for daily life.

Dockyard for complete ship overhaul and construction. Generator section supplying power to the base. Console section controlling defensive equipment on the satellite’s surface.

At the central section of Chicken Ball, the Administrator’s Chamber was located.

Dawson recalled the appearance of General Kernel and, out of mere curiosity, verified the route leading to the Administrator’s Chamber.

The destination could be reached by combining train and corridor travel, but the journey was notably long.

"Many changes to train and corridor connections will be required. Walking this route would take half a day. Moreover, the final stretch before the Administrator’s Chamber is a single corridor."

The route clearly indicated a design intended to enable delaying combat should the base be under threat of capture.

Halting the Train and setting barricades at junctions could delay the occupation of the Administrator’s Chamber for up to ten days, depending on available supplies.

If the occupation became inevitable, Dawson thought, there must be a hidden corridor allowing the Administrator to escape.

"If there is an escape route to the Administrator’s Chamber, which dock does it connect to?"

The Administrator’s Chamber was at the center of Chicken Ball. All docks on the outer shell were equidistant.

"Distance won't narrow it down. There must be another method."

Dawson swiped the display, rotating the full view of Chicken Ball in a continuous circular motion.

After completing the horizontal rotation, he initiated a vertical rotation. Then a diagonal one.

From the outside, it might appear he is merely rotating the Chicken Ball for amusement. Inside Dawson’s mind, however, data about the Corridor within Chicken Ball accumulates.

Once the data has accumulated sufficiently, Dawson stops the swipe motion and returns the display to the advertisement screen.

He then moves away from the display as if disinterested, resuming his stroll through the commercial sector.

Dawson has not abandoned his speculation about the hidden Corridor. On the contrary, he has already identified its location.

"A width allowing passage for a single person, and a straight path to the dock with enough clearance in one direction only. That section is likely the hidden Corridor, though it might be a misjudgment."

Dawson dismisses the possibility of error for a reason.

The dock at the end of the hidden Corridor is precisely the one currently hosting the Heavy Jaw and three Sky Sweepers.