Chapter 42: Liberation

"Just made it in time, I guess!"

"...I-Imo...?"

Outside the ship, where violent winds raged, the one gripping my hand tightly—refusing to let go even though another second would’ve seen me blown away—was the girl I had parted with only hours ago after what could only be described as a fight.

It was Imo.

"Oww… this is getting rough… Homura, could you give me a hand!?"

"You don’t need to yell. I can hear you."

Imo and Homura pulled me up together. Imo’s shoulder was stained red, blood trailing down from the side of her head—likely from when I’d struck her with a metal pipe. Her white shirt was torn and ragged, covered in bruises and scrapes, as if she’d fought someone else afterward.

"W-Why…?"

"Why? Well, that’s because—"

『Situation update. Identified: “Imo” and “Homura.” Judged neutral based on past data. Warning. Disengage from combat and retreat immediately. I repeat. Disengage and retreat immediately. Failure to comply will result in classification as hostiles—“to be eliminated.”』

Cutting the Cleaner off mid-sentence, Homura’s sharp voice rang out.

At the same time, she raised her beloved firearm—the MTS255. A dense concentration of mystic energy gathered at its muzzle, growing heavier by the second, beginning to glow with an otherworldly brilliance—

"Reduce everything to ash—『Morning Star, Lucifer』!"

She fired.

『High temperature detected. Attack confirmed. Deploying mystic fear-based shield. Negative. Shield defense deemed insufficient. Initiating evasive maneu—』

The Venus-bright beam pierced through the shield, overwhelming it in an instant, and blasted the Cleaner away in a violent explosion of light.

"—Because we’re friends, that’s why."

"...Huh? What did you say?"

"Friends… Ah, geez! There’s way too much filler in between! This is your fault, Homura!"

"My fault!? I finally got to say something cool!"

"M-Meta commentary isn’t helping…"

Take two.

"—Because we’re friends."

"...Why…? I mean… I… I stabbed you…"

"Because you stabbed me?"

After being pulled up, I was held tightly in her arms. From that angle, her injuries were even more obvious. The crimson-soaked shirt, the bandages wrapped tightly around her nearly flat chest—meant as emergency treatment—were also dyed red.

Her earlier reaction made it clear the pain hadn’t faded.

…It was all my fault.

"Sure, I was surprised. I mean, I’m protected by mystic energy, and yet you still managed to wound me with a simple military knife."

"I-I’m… sorry…"

"So you thought that meant I’d hate you and we wouldn’t be friends anymore?"

"...Y-Yeah…"

"Are you an idiot?"

"Ow!?"

She pinched my cheek.

"Did you really think I was that small-minded?"

"I-I’m sowwy…"

"Sigh… Even if you kicked me off a cliff, betrayed me, or shot me, I still wouldn’t cut ties with you. I’ve done way worse myself. There’s no way I’d ever end things over that. In fact, I wouldn’t let it happen. I’ve got some seriously huge feelings for you, you know?"

"Y-You’re saying that yourself…?"

"Of course I am. I’ll say it as many times as it takes. I really, really, really loooove you. I mean, how could I not? This squishy, adorable little girl being the one inside that Cleaner suit? Anyone would fall for that!"

For some reason, her blissful expression sent a strange shiver down my spine.

"B-But… I still need to atone somehow… or I won’t feel right…"

"That’s fair. Atonement isn’t just for the victim—it’s also for the one who caused the harm. It gives closure. Oh! I’ve got a great idea! How about I repay it by giving those soft, squishy cheeks a biiiiig smooch—chu, chu, chuuu—"

"QUIT SCREWING AROUND AND HELP ME, YOU DAMN INFORMANT!!!"

"...Well, that was rude timing."

A furious shout cut off Imo’s increasingly questionable suggestion. Turning toward the voice, we saw a man desperately clinging to the edge of a hole in the ship, gripping it with a bulky mechanical arm to avoid falling.

It was the former PMC executive.

"Well, well. Been a few hours, hasn’t it? Our dear employer."

"Enough talk! Just save me already!"

"I’d love to, truly, but as you can see, my shoulder’s injured… Lifting someone of your considerable mass might be a bit difficult…"

"Then have someone else do it! Homura! Save me!"

"...Sorry, but I just washed my hands. I don’t feel like touching hands soaked in your greasy oil."

"I’M NOT THAT FILTHY!?"

"Damn it! Are you screwing with me!? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the con—tract—we made!! Don’t think for a second it won’t still bind you whether you remember it or not!"

—A contract.

A promise exchanged between parties when conducting a deal. Even in my previous life, such things existed in written form. But in this world, their meaning carried far more weight.

Here, a “contract” was absolute.

And I knew someone who could enforce it.

The man who once carried the teacher before me—Black Suit.

He possessed the power to impose the contents of a contract upon both parties involved.

"That was a request! Save me!!!"

An absolute command—one that could not be ignored, no matter how much one resisted.

And yet—

"W-Why isn’t it activating!?"

He didn’t realize it yet.

But they did.

"Black Suit. Let me confirm something."

"Yes? What is it?"

"The contract we formed with this man stated the following, correct? ‘We must accept any request he makes.’ ‘We are prohibited from harming him.’ ‘In exchange, he must provide the compensation we demand.’"

"Yes. That is correct."

"Then why isn’t it activating!?"

"Oh, it is. We did accept your request."

"Then—!"

"But you haven’t paid us."

"...Huh?"

"Clause three. You must provide the compensation we demand."

"And the compensation we’re demanding is this—termination of our master–servant contract. Paid in advance."

"...What?"

A thoroughly idiotic sound escaped the man’s mouth.

"T-That’s impossible! You can’t just change the terms like that!!"

"I refuse. You have no authority to alter the conditions."

"Y-You ungrateful brats! Have you forgotten I took you in back then!?"

"Oh, we remember. Very clearly. But honestly? We think we’ve repaid that debt more than enough. We’ve fulfilled every unreasonable demand you ever made. And this time, your stupidity got Komori hurt… and forced me to betray her. Just look at this wound. I got ambushed by your precious automata—the ones you claimed were fully under your control. Meaning this is your fault. I was injured because of you. And I happen to be a very delicate young lady, you know?"

"...I’m grateful to you too… I haven’t forgotten that you gave me this leg. But if Imo gets hurt because of you… then I’m done. I’m getting off."

"So, in short, we’re demanding the termination of our contract as upfront payment for saving your life."

"Yup, that."

Imo waved what was clearly their contract—taken from Black Suit—right in front of the former executive’s face as he desperately clung to the edge. His face turned an impressive shade of red, like it might burst.

"Y-You think you can get away with this…!?"

"Enough already. Hurry up. Yes or no. Break the contract, or die right here. Choose quickly—if you take too long, the Cleaner’s going to wake up."

『Thermal anomaly detected… initiating auto-repair… reboot in… 32 seconds…』

"...The Cleaner’s getting back up. I’m out of special rounds, so I can’t fire Morning Star again."

Imo waved the contract teasingly in the air while the former executive trembled—whether from rage or fear, it was hard to tell. His face flushed red as steam practically rose from him.

Meanwhile, the Cleaner began to move again, repairing the damage Homura had inflicted.

Despite the battlefield filled with destruction, the ticking of the watch on his wrist sounded unbearably loud.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Each second pressed down on him—

"F-Fine…! I’ll do it! I’ll void the contract between me and the two informants! Just save me!!"

"Much obliged~♪"

The words forced out of him sealed the outcome.

────────────────────────

"By the way, on our way here, we ran into a Goliath that tried to attack us. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? It looked like it went this way…"

I shot Imo a look filled with pure contempt.

Do you people have to bring a Goliath with you every time you make an entrance?

────────────────────────

Komori: "By the way… what was that chuuni-sounding thing you did earlier, Homura?"

Homura: "It was a finishing move that uses custom-made ammunition. It’s usually not worth using since it puts me in the red financially, but when I do use it, its overwhelming destructive power completely obliterates the target."

Komori: "But it didn’t obliterate the Cleaner."

Homura: "……"