They were Faldras. False dragons. Man-made monsters created by the dwarves and the elves. They had begun life as nothing more than a prop for our movie, but the dwarves, perfectionists that they were, just kept fiddling with the formula until they had created a full-on, magic-powered transforming robot. There had been some talk of mass-producing them as weapons for the Eldant Empire, and it looked like some of the prototype units had come along to greet us.
And there, right in the middle of the crowd of knights, were three people I recognized.
One of them was a handsome young man wearing a very displeased expression—Petralka’s blood relative, captain of the knights, and an important imperial counselor. The noble, Garius en Cordobal.
The second person was an old man with a long beard—Prime Minister Zahar, another top advisor to the empress.
Finally, standing slightly behind these two closest of Petralka’s advisors, almost as if she were trying to stay inconspicuous, there was a small dwarf girl. Lauron Selioz. She had recently become Petralka’s body double—or more precisely, she controlled the doll that fulfilled that function.
“Your Majesty, how good to see you safe!” Prime Minister Zahar immediately picked Petralka out of the group emerging from the elevator.
“Mm, yes, we have returned,” Petralka said, puffing out her small chest importantly before the entourage that had come to greet her.
But...
“Ahem.” A second later, she seemed to remember how it was that she had gotten to Japan in the first place. She saw the stone-faced Garius, along with Lauron looking apologetic beside him. Her own expression turned drawn, and she took shelter behind Myusel.
“Uh, um, Your Majesty...?”
“I’m very sorry.”
The apology came from Lauron, before Garius could say anything.
Apparently, it hadn’t taken long after Petralka left for the body double to be found out. To be fair, I would have been more surprised if they hadn’t figured it out. Lauron had Her Majesty’s behavior and speech down to a T, but she didn’t know anything about the empress’s daily duties.
“Your Majesty...” Garius glared at Petralka. Petralka peeked out from behind Myusel, saw the expression on his face, and ducked back behind the maid, trying to make herself even smaller than before. Myusel herself was literally caught in the middle, totally at a loss what to do.
As for me, I looked around at the knights and the Faldras and said, “Er, what’s all this...?” Admittedly, I could take a guess.
“We heard there had been some kind of trouble in Ja-pan, and came prepared.”
Bingo.
I assumed they had heard something via the JSDF here.
“But it appears you are all in one piece.”
“Yeah, somehow.”
“We’ve heard roughly what happened. Shinichi, you did well to bring Her Majesty back safely. You have my thanks.”
“Oh, uh, n-no problem.” I bowed my head. I had been sure Garius was going to be ticked at me, but I guess he realized that Petralka had stowed away without any encouragement from me.
“As for you, Your Majesty.” As he spoke, Garius advanced menacingly.
“Sh—Shinichi!!” Petralka must have decided that Myusel wouldn’t be an effective enough shield, because this time she jumped behind me, clinging to the back of my shirt. Er, uh. That’s highly adorable, Your Majesty, and makes me very moe, but I think this is one time I can’t help you.
“Majesty, what were you thinking, acting so recklessly?” Garius was just as angry as I had feared. I half expected him to grab Petralka by the scruff of the neck and give her a firm spanking. She might have been the empress, but Garius was her cousin—almost like an older brother to her. At times like this, he was capable of upbraiding her as if he had completely forgotten the difference in their stations.
“W-We wished to see Ja-pan for ourselves! We had no choice!”
“How did you not have a choice?!”
“We were careful to leave things in Lauron’s hands!”
Uh, I’m not sure you could call that being careful. (I thought, but didn’t say.)
It wasn’t hard to imagine Lauron, suddenly charged with being the empress, in a very tight spot. I felt bad for her. It was impossible, and she would have known it was wrong, but she could hardly refuse a direct order from Her Majesty.
“And we also made certain to bring everyone souvenirs! For you in particular, Garius—for you, we have these BL books we bought in Akiba...”
“...Majesty!”
For an instant, Garius’s eyes had been drawn to the manga Petralka produced from her bag—I thought. I was probably imagining it.
At length, overwhelmed by the force of Garius’s glare, Petralka’s head drooped and she said, “...We are sorry.”
“Your Majesty, your person is the very embodiment of this empire. Please don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger,” Garius said. “Elder Zahar and myself lost years of our lives worrying.”
“Erk.........” Petralka gulped as she realized how real Garius’s concern for her was.
For quite a while after that, Petralka could only stand there with her shoulders slumped while Garius continued to lecture her like a mother hen.
So, it had been a few days since we got back to Eldant. Matoba-san let us know that the American army had entirely withdrawn, and Reito-san and the other agents were safe. The two governments quietly decided to pretend nothing had happened.
I didn’t know what would come next, but it looked like, just as Minori-san had said, America and any other countries that wanted to know what Japan was up to would have to find a more discreet way of figuring it out.
Ayasaki Hikaru-san, whom I had trusted to run Amutech while I was gone, reported that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Other than, I suppose, the tizzy into which Garius and Prime Minister Zahar had fallen when they realized Petralka had snuck away with me.
On that note...
I heard that the empress, after her little adventure and her thorough scolding from Garius, was not allowed to leave the castle for a while. I felt kind of bad for her, but, well, I figured she could amuse herself with the souvenirs she’d brought back from Japan. She especially seemed to like that Gaishi Foreman.
Elvia was absorbed in drawing, the art books she’d gotten in Akihabara close at hand. Minori-san continued to watch out for me, doing her daily military training as usual. Myusel went back to being a maid. And me, I returned to my job as Amutech’s general manager.
I guess the point I’m trying to make is, daily life in the Eldant Empire went back to normal for us pretty quickly. Even if I was a little surprised to discover that, for better or for worse, daily life in Japan wasn’t what I thought of when I thought “normal” anymore.
Then one day...
“Hmmm...”
I was fiddling with my phone in my room at our mansion. I opened the photos folder to find a whole slew of pictures I’d taken in Japan.
Actually, a lot of them were shots of the newest arrivals that I’d taken at the various bookstores, DVD places, and game shops we visited in Akihabara. With Myusel, Petralka, and Elvia along, it had been impossible to really take a close look at what was new and hot, so instead I snapped pictures with the intent of “shopping” later—by which I mean adding them to the list of “pilot products” to import to Eldant.
I slid my finger along the screen, scroll, scroll.
After a while, the photos changed to pictures of people instead of products: my dad. My mom. Shizuki. Elvia. Minori-san. Petralka... and Myusel.
I was sitting there, just gazing at pictures of Myusel smiling here, there, and everywhere in Akihabara, when a knock came at the door.
“Oh, uh, come in,” I said. I found my heart pounding for some reason.
Just as I suspected, it was Myusel. “Master, I’ve brought tea.” She was wearing her usual maid outfit, and came into the room with a cart of tea and sweets. As she set about making the tea, just like sh
e always did, I found myself gazing at her the same way I had been at my phone, which was still in my hand.
“U-Um, Shinichi-sama? Is something wrong...?”
“Oh, no! Nahh!” The Myusel on my phone was wearing trendy Japanese clothing. The one in front of me was dressed in a maid uniform. My eyes wandered back and forth between the two of them... “I was just thinking, the clothes you wore in Japan looked good on you, but this maid outfit is more like, you know, you.”
“Is... Is that so?” I didn’t know why, but she blushed a little. The way she glanced at the floor, slightly shy, was (as one might expect) exceedingly cute.
Afraid that the sheer moe-ness of it would completely overwhelm me, I deliberately changed the subject. “Say, uh, Myusel?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Back in Japan... I mean, a lot happened, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Petralka, she was saying she wanted to go back, but, uh, Myusel, do you—”
I wondered if she wanted to go back to Japan, too. Maybe our experiences had left her hating Japan—or should I say, the world on the other side of the hyperspace wormhole. The thought had been bothering me ever since we got back.
Myusel just blinked, not saying anything. The expression on her face suggested she hadn’t been expecting this particular question.
Then, suddenly, she broke into a smile and said, “Me? It doesn’t matter where I am, Shinichi-sama, as long as I’m by your side.”
“Huh...?” Now it was my turn to blink.
Whoa, wait. Is she saying...?
“...Oh, uh, really? You really think so?”
“Yes!”
She grinned from ear to ear, cuter than ever. But I purposely decided not to take a picture. Instead, I focused on Myusel, taking in every detail of this moment, so I would never forget it.
（つづく）
To be Continued...
Afterword
Hullo, light novelist Sakaki here, bringing you Volume 10 of Outbreak Company: The Power of Moe.
How about that? Outbreak Company has hit the double digits! Obviously I’ve needed a lot of help to produce the limited-edition Volume 9 with drama CD, the anime and manga versions—the whole media mix thing—but just the fact that I’ve made it to ten volumes is a testament to the support of my readers, and for that I’m extremely grateful.
Now then, Volume 10 is the second part of the story that started in Volume 9. I deliberately left a few loose ends at the conclusion of this volume, though. I don’t know exactly which ones I’ll have the opportunity to pursue, but there’s some foreshadowing for later books and even the final volume... but you can just kindly ignore all that for now.
Anyway.
The afterword below includes some minor spoilers, so if you haven’t read the book yet, I suggest doing so first.
Now, about the Homecoming Arc, or Japan Arc, or whatever you want to call it.
Shinichi’s dad is pretty transparently me—that is to say, he’s very Sakaki Ichiro-ish (both the way he acts and the way he’s drawn, heh!). Making him a light-novel author was just an easy-to-use plot detail; I don’t mean to imply that Shinichi, his little sister Shizuki, or his mom are anything like my real family—just so we’re clear (lol). My lovely bride isn’t a bishoujo-game designer and doesn’t possess mad hacking skills.
And I don’t play KanColle (lol).
Besides, my kids are actually an older sister and a younger brother, so Shinichi would have to have a big sister who’s about college age... I have to admit, picturing how that character would look in the illustrations is a lot of fun.
Eh, it’d be too easy for her character to overlap with Minori-san’s if I wasn’t careful.
As for Shizuki, the tsundere younger sister, I was surprised to realize how rarely I had written a character who relates to the protagonist in that way, so it was kind of refreshing. Petralka herself, and a number of my other female characters, might seem to fill the role of a strong but somewhat shy heroine, but all of them have gone fairly easy on the tsun (prickliness). They might have a sharp word for the hero, but they rarely outright make fun of or attack him. In fact, they tend to acknowledge and demonstrate their affection for him pretty quickly.
For that reason, as well as simply to help differentiate her, I tried to write Shizuki as more of an orthodox tsundere. So, readers: how did I do? Personally, Yuugen-shi’s design turned out younger than I had been picturing, which give a little something extra to that orthodoxy (she’s grown meaner to her brother the older she gets, but she’s not always completely comfortable with that side of herself), I thought.
Also, Elvia’s whole “I-wanna-see-fairies” shtick at the end was dreamed up by a particular member of my assistant staff so rotten she’s practically fermenting. At first, I (and my editor) had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, and thinking it felt a little weird to call my assistant purely to ask about it, we decided to look it up on the web. And, uh... wow. I guess the world is always a bigger place than you thought.
I see... So that’s one of the meanings of fairy. Huh.
I’m still mulling over some things as regards volumes 11 onwards. I wonder how they’ll turn out. I’m thinking it’s about time for an Elvia-centric story (or more precisely, an Amatena- and Clara-centric one), but we haven’t seen Loek and Romilda in a while, either. Actually, there’s lots of side characters that I’d like to shine the spotlight on. An author’s life is never easy.
Maybe it’s about time for another short-story collection?
In any event, that’s Volume 10. Outbreak Company now occupies close to 4,000 sheets of manuscript paper. We’re approaching epic status here. Will it hit 10,000 sheets before it’s over? Or will it putter out at just 5,000? Only time will tell, but I hope you, dear reader, will stay with me till the end.
12 May 2014
Sakaki Ichiro
Bonus Translator’s Notes
Chapter One
Sambo
A Soviet martial art.
“The Scare in Red Scare”
The Japanese describes this “Putin” as “the image of oso-roshia (おそロシア).” This is a really, truly terrible pun on osoroshii (scary) + roshia (Russia). It has fairly wide currency on the Japanese internet as a way of referring to any of the less savory practices of the Russian state.
The Bol**oi Circus
That is, the Bolshoi Circus, an auditorium and performance venue in Moscow.
Cat & Bunny
A play on Tiger & Bunny.
Nooooeeees!
Jp. rame. This is a corruption of dame (no!/don’t!), made prominent by the series Doruaga no Tou (Tower of Druaga).
A Different Direction
Shinichi says that there were eight attackers, and that “each of them came from a different direction.” This implies one from each of the cardinal directions (North, South, etc.) and one from each of the ordinal directions (northeast, southwest, etc.). “The eight directions” (happou) is also a common expression in both Japanese and Chinese meaning “everywhere at once.”
Type 64 Silenced Pistols
The Type 64 is a semiautomatic pistol formerly used by the People’s Liberation Army.
Consumption Tax
A consumption tax (shouhizei) is assessed on most goods sold in Japan. The rate of this tax has been raised a number of times, but Shinichi’s dad is probably referring to the increase to 8% in 2014.
Assemblyperson
A giin or member of a prefectural assembly (gikai or ken-gikai), which are the legislative bodies of Japan’s individual prefectures.
110
The number for emergency services in Japan, equivalent to 911 in the US. It’s often referred to as “hyaku-tou-ban,” combining the number 110 (using an alternate reading of the number ten) with the suffix -ban, or “number.”
Without Even Taking Off Their Shoes
In Japan, you are expected to remove your shoes almost any time you enter a private residence (or for that m
atter, even a school). To fail to do so—and therefore to track dirt and filth from outside into the home—is considered tremendously rude.
Heavily Accented Japanese
In the original, this is indicated by using kanji where they would be expected, but then rendering the rest of the sentence in katakana. (For example, 我々ト共ニ来イ! [ware-ware TO tomo NI koI!, “Come with us!”) This makes the sentence somewhat more readable, and therefore seem less “stumbling,” than the all-katakana lines of the Eldant characters.
Spread the Word
The Japanese is kakusan kibou, literally “share wish,” that is, “I hope you’ll share this.” “Plz share” might be another viable translation, but wouldn’t have had the gravity that was necessary for this line in this scene.
LINE
An instant-communication app that launched in Japan in 2012.
Ni** Nama
Nico Nama, Nico Nico’s live-video streaming site.
Chapter Two
Airsoft
A team shooting game similar to paintball, where teams of players hold battles using replica weaponry. Unlike paintball, though, airsoft pellets don’t mark their targets. Airsoft originated in Japan, although now it’s known around the world.
Nasty Otaku
Jp. kimo-ota, a contraction of kimoi otaku. Kimoi (itself perhaps related to kimochi warui, “sickening”) means disgusting, the sort of thing that makes you sick to your stomach.
Egao Video
Egao means “smiling face,” and is a clear play on niko-niko video, the Japanese streaming site. (Niko-niko, or in the site’s spelling, Nico Nico, is roughly “grin.”)
Outbreak Company: Volume 10 Page 11