by SOW
Prologue: A Mechanical Doll’s Determination
“I dig chicks who don’t smile.”
He was a fast-talking guy who always said the silliest things.
“It’s just, when I see a girl, I want to make her laugh by any means necessary.”
I believe he was one of the highest-ranking Hunter Unit pilots in the Principality of Wiltia.
Nonetheless, most of the things that came out of his mouth, perhaps because he never shut up, were this kind of nonsense. There are times when it seems ridiculous to store them all in memory.
“So if you were a woman, I’d have my sights on you.”
Can you believe this guy? What’s the point of saying such a thing to a weapon like me?
“I am a weapon. Gender categories like male and female do not apply.”
That’s right. I’m not human. The Principality of Wiltia developed me to be a humanoid weapon of war called a Hunter Unit, model number LS-6R2. I’m a steel humanoid weapon, over eight meters tall and once feared as “Cyclops,” but he said, “If you were a woman, I’d smooth-talk you.”
It was that kind of statement that made me question his morals. And that’s why he chose Sharlahart as my personal code. Apparently, that was the name of his dearest beloved. What a nincompoop...
The Principality of Wiltia allowed its outstanding pilots to use personal colors to improve the morale of other soldiers. And of all colors, this guy chose red. As an intense disturbance raced through my thought programming at his color choice, which was so contrary to its purpose of camouflage, I asked why he would choose a color that would make me stand out so conspicuously on the battlefield.
The answer I got was, “Aw, don’t sweat it. It looks cool!” Really, he’s moronic.
A few more of us were granted personal colors. Sophia von Rundstadt’s unit was dyed black and christened the Devil’s Black Spear. Leia Toolman’s unit was painted pale blue and called the Azure Shudder. And Lud Langart, who chose an almost silvery white, was the Silver Wolf. Together, we were a symbol of Wiltia’s strength.
And we were known as the Crimson Hawk. I’ll admit to liking that a bit.
“If I were human, would you really make a pass at me?” That was my reply to his usual inane comments. But I played along with his banter more than usual.
“Hey, you’re getting into this today!”
I could tell he was grinning and showing his teeth.
“You’re so expressionless and rigid. It’d be awesome if you went red in the face from laughing.”
I wondered how dumb this guy was.
“Well, it’s time for work. Shall we head out?” He said this casually, before setting out for the battlefield.
He acted the same during the invasion of Amritard, which was later said to be the fiercest battle in the late days of the Great European War. Due to that victory, the August Federation greatly withdrew its defensive line, and Wiltia advanced its forces to within a step of winning the war. But after that battle, he suddenly disappeared.
According to rumors, he died in battle, or fled before the enemy, or so the stories go. But that can’t be. Because Crimson Hawks never run or die! Knowing him, he was probably chasing tail and just forgot to come back. That’s probably it. It must be.
So I will keep waiting. Someday, he will return. And until then, I refuse to laugh. Because he’s so foolish. No matter how I may change in appearance, as long as I am me, and as long as I don’t smile, I’m certain he will reappear and try to make me smile with some stupid joke. So I will not laugh.
Introduction
Man cannot live on bread alone. Who first said that?
Munch, munch, munch, munch... munch, munch, munch...
Tockerbrot was a bakery located in the corner of a little mining town called Organbaelz. The shop was recently renovated, with a larger building and a food court where customers could enjoy a bite to eat. Jacob, a long-standing customer of the shop—its original customer, in fact— was sitting at a table and eating fresh-baked but deformed bread, which was unusual to find in this bakery.
“H-How is it?”
Milly, a new staff member, stared nervously at Jacob. Today, she was wearing a work outfit for baking, instead of her usual waitress uniform with an apron.
“Hmm... It’s not baked evenly. Maybe because of its irregular shape? And the texture isn’t quite right. Maybe you should have kneaded the dough more.”
“Argh!” Milly’s shoulders slumped after hearing Jacob’s comments.
“But it’s not bad for your first time. You can’t bake like you-know-who from the start.”
Milly was using the oven to bake by herself for the first time. It had been three months since she started working with Lud, observing his work, and receiving his advice. And today she had performed all the baking without his help.
“If you can’t bake coupé, which is basic bread, you’ve still got work to do.”
Jacob’s observation was correct and struck home. Milly had thought the same after eating her own bread. It dashed her spirits even further that Jacob had pointed this out.
“Lud says he was an assistant for two years. If you can bake like this after just three months, you’re making rapid progress.”
“Would you pay money for my bread?”
“Um... that’s asking a bit much.”
As the girl’s first try, it was all right. But it wasn’t bread that could be sold. Milly’s dream was to become a full-fledged baker like Lud and her deceased father. But she still had a way to go toward achieving that goal.
“Th-This just means you need a little more training!”
“Ugh!”
“What do you mean by ‘ugh’?! What a mouth you’ve got!”
Sven, the waitress at Tockerbrot, had come in. As a senior employee, Sven was training Milly, who lacked customer service skills. However, their relationship wasn’t great. Their first impressions of each other had not been good, and while the situation had improved somewhat, they were still slightly hostile toward each other. There was another reason, too. They were both insistent and stubborn, which made for a difficult relationship.
“Hmf! The master is kind enough to allow you to use the oven, but look how downcast you are! Is that all there is to your dream? Oh dear! I guess I was wrong about you!”
“Q-Quiet! Everyone fails the first time! I’ll do better next time!” Milly argued fiercely and Sven smirked spitefully at her.
In the military, kind words are unnecessary and counterproductive when training new soldiers. Kindness spoils the unripe and prevents growth. It’s more effective to elicit motivation by saying, “Is this all you’ve got?” or “Stand up and give me your best!” Words that rankle one’s pride can also be useful.
I’m not sure, but... is Sven cheering her up in her own way?
Jacob didn’t know, but he thought so.
Milly was a strong girl. If he comforted her, she would just get depressed. Maybe it was better to fire up her fighting instincts.
“Calm down, you two.” Jacob stopped them before the argument could turn into angry shouts and the people outside would hear.
“Anyway, it’s nice of Lud to let you use the oven.”
The oven room where Lud made the bread was a sanctuary to him. He forbade even Jacob and Sven, who were close to him, from entering without good reason.
“Oh, but he has to. Once the fire goes out, it takes time to heat up the oven again.”
Bakers don’t bake bread all day. They have to gather ingredients, set out and bring in goods, and make deliveries. When the oven remains unused, handling the temperature is a delicate matter. The fire can’t easily
be started or stopped. So, while Lud wasn’t using the oven but needed to keep the fire lit, he allowed Milly to practice her baking.
“Well, he can’t pay you much, so I suppose he intends this as compensation.”
“Ugh... it’s hard to make ends meet.”
Sven and Jacob smiled bitterly.
“I don’t need much, and I’m not much use, anyway.” Milly mumbled in embarrassment.
She had started working three months ago, but she didn’t have much experience in customer service, so she was awkward as a waitress. Her guilt over not working well enough to justify her pay dampened her spirits.
“That’s a different matter.” Sven’s reply was casual.
“Employees have a responsibility to work, and employers need to pay wages according to contracts. My job is to educate and train you. If you were useful after just three months of training, where would that leave me?”
Her words held no kindness, pity or sympathy. She was just stating a matter of fact in a matter-of-fact manner.
“Oh...”
Not knowing what to say, Milly looked confused.
“Thanks. I’ll do my best.” She blushed as she answered quietly and returned to the oven.
“Why did that little girl thank me?”
“You didn’t mean to cheer her up, but you did.”
Jacob said this as if he found it funny, and Sven tilted her head, mystified.
“By the way, is this shop still in financial difficulty?”
“I wish I could say everything is going well, but that isn’t quite true.”
Tockerbrot had borrowed funding from a fake moneylender and started business in debt. Then during its first year, the shop had so few customers that keeping the business running required borrowing more money. As a result, the shop’s financial situation was so bad that it might have gone bankrupt at any time. Fortunately, the skilled waitress, Sven, arrived out of nowhere and reorganized the bakery’s finances and management. Tockerbrot had escaped the danger of bankruptcy but still required careful handling.
“The renovation further increased your loan burden.”
“Luckily, customers love our shop, but it will still take time to earn back all that money.”
Tockerbrot was operating smoothly. However, there was a limit to production. And limited production meant limited earnings.
“I would love to expand our business, but there’s a problem. Actually, I was going to ask you about that, Jacob.”
“A problem?”
Jacob tilted his head and Sven smiled faintly as she answered.
“I’ll fill you in when the master gets home.”
“Hmm... Where is Lud, anyway?”
“He’s making a delivery to the mine.”
Baelz Mine was one of the principal industries in Organbaelz.
“Umph!”
The young owner of Tockerbrot, Lud Langart, was delivering bread to the mine. His contract with the mine cafeteria for delivering bread to 200 miners every day was a main source of income.
“Hey, baker! You came again, huh?”
It was Laurel, the leader of the miners.
“Hello, Laurel. You’re doing good work!”
Laurel was covered in dirt as if he had just come to the surface for a break. He was not a young man, but his bulging muscles and strong-willed eyes gave him the appearance of a veteran with long military service.
“Since we started gettin’ your bread, work has been progressing better.” Laurel smiled, showing white teeth.
“Food is a rare pleasure with work like this. That one with the seeds is especially good.”
“You mean the sesame bread? I add extra salt because you miners sweat so much. I’m glad you like it.”
Laurel was surprised.
“Do you always give consideration to such detail?”
“Yes. I also make adjustments for the season and weather since they influence people’s taste.”
“Whew...” Laurel sighed in admiration.
“Hmph! You’ve got a better build for mining than the young fellas around here, but you’re one hell of a baker!”
Laurel laughed and patted Lud’s broad chest.
“Thank you.”
Lud was extremely happy to hear that. The first time Lud had come to the mine, Laurel had shouted, “Get out!” He had derided Lud as a Wiltian soldier and didn’t see him as a baker. And instead of praising Lud’s bread, Laurel had spit it out, saying, “It’s bread from a Wiltian soldier. I don’t know what he might have stuffed in there.”
That same man was now praising Lud’s bread with a smile. Lud was overjoyed.
“Hey, baker! You okay? Did I ruffle your feathers?”
“N-No, sorry. Nothing is wrong. I’m just happy.”
Lud’s face contorted like a demon’s as he struggled to hold back happy tears. It had been a little over two years since he quit soldiering and one year since he started baking bread. But Lud still had trouble making a smile.
“You’re an unusual fella!”
Laurel laughed with good-natured exasperation, and as Lud responded with an expression almost like a wry grin, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
“Th-That...”
Lud’s eyes opened wide. He felt his body tense.
“What is a Hunter Unit doing in this mine?”
Hunter Units were humanoid assault weapons developed by the Wiltian army. They were copper and steel giants that stood 8.5 meters tall.
“Oh, that was decommissioned.”
Lud wondered if something unexpected had happened at the mine, as it had before, but Laurel’s reply was casual.
“After the war, the military wanted to dispose of its extra weapons. They removed some armor and other equipment and sold them for civilian use. You wanna take a look?”
Laurel took Lud to stand before the Hunter Unit repurposed for industrial use.
“An LS-5... That’s an early model.”
It was older than the units Lud had used in the war. The basic frame was the same, but most parts had been removed, leaving the upper armor for protection against falling rock inside the mine. Of course, there were no weapons. One arm was now a giant scoop and an industrial winch was affixed to its midsection. The conversion was so thorough that it barely resembled a weapon at all.
“This isn’t for military use, so instead of a Hunter Unit, it’s more like armored machinery. It’s an old model, but since it’s so large, it’s better than a human for heavy labor.”
As he said this, Laurel patted the Hunter Unit’s leg.
Ever since the war ended, the military had been cutting expenditures. Surplus weapons cost money, both to maintain and to store unused. So, the policy was to sell weapons at low prices for civilian use in order to make even a little money.
“But it’s showing its age and isn’t in the best condition. I’m keeping it here until I summon the repair man.”
“I see.”
An industrial Hunter Unit far from war and vastly transformed from its original purpose... Some might see it as ruined and pitiful.
“So you too are alive in these new times, huh?”
Lud saw the unit as a person who had discovered a new way of life in times of peace—much as he had.
The Great European War had spread across the continent. In that war, there was a Hunter Unit pilot extolled as a hero. And that hero’s name was indeed Lud Langart.
Soldiers feared him as the Silver Wolf because of the silvery shine of the pure white Hunter Unit he operated. But he retired from the army when the war ended and started a bakery in the countryside in Organbaelz. And there was a girl who pursued him. Her name was Sven. She was once Lud’s beloved Hunter Unit. She was an android with pilot-assistance AI implanted inside her body.
Borders changed and smaller nations united. Divisions appeared between losers and winners, and between oppressors and oppressed. This was the new post-war era.
This is a tale unrecorded by history, the humble
tale of a baker who was once a soldier and a waitress who had been a weapon, living on the fringes of that era.
Chapter 1: The One Who Holds the Scales
Berun, the capital of the Principality of Wiltia, was designed with the royal palace at its center, and the government offices situated around it, like planets around the sun. One of the facilities closest to the royal palace was central military headquarters. The top-ranking official at central headquarters... No, in the whole Wiltian military, is in the deepest chamber within the headquarters.
Today, Sophia was standing in front of the door to this room.
“Sophia von Rundstadt reflorting... I mean... reporting!”
She was so nervous that she stumbled over her words.
“Enter.” The man behind the door answered her.
Sophia usually kicked open doors as she knocked. It didn’t matter if the door led to the division commander who was her immediate superior, or to the colonel who was the chief of the Weapons Development Bureau. Her character and intensity were so strong they defied hierarchy.
“Yes, Sir! Excuse me!”
But the man inside this room was special. Sophia carefully turned the doorknob and entered the room in silence. If her subordinates and superior officers had seen, they would have stared in shock.
“Sorry. Hold on a sec. I’m just reaching the climax.”
The man before her was impervious to her overwhelming presence and fearsome glare, known as the Dragon Slayer. Elvin Lior was a marshal of the Principality of Wiltia. He was the commander-in-chief of all soldiers.
“S-Sure! No problem!”
Sophia saluted tensely like a fresh recruit at military academy. There were piles of reports and other documents spread around the room. They were stacked so high that Sophia had to walk carefully to avoid knocking them over, even though the marshal’s office was spacious, in line with his rank. There were many matters awaiting his attention and approval.
“Hmm... My apologies. At ease.”
Elvin returned her salute and urged Sophia, who was frozen in salute, to lower her arm. As he sat at his desk with legs splayed, Elvin was reading a novel rather than classified military reports.