In the near-future city of Niihama, where cyberization and prosthetics are commonplace, Batou of Public Security Section 9 shares tiny romantic sparks with the super-wizard class hacker Ishikawa. Both are terrible at being honest with their feelings, and they spend their days exchanging awkward words during missions.
One day, they begin investigating a series of cyber hacking incidents. The common thread among the victims is the use of the latest chips from the major prosthetic manufacturer 'Po
Lovers in the Cyber Labyrinth - That hacking, a firewall for love.
Minato Ward, Niihama City.
A colossal 62-story tower rising along the waterfront — Waterfront Tower. This was the headquarters of Poseidon Industry.
The moment he stepped into the entrance hall, Batou couldn't help but frown.
The air was different.
The chaotic neon and exhaust fumes from outside vanished as if they'd been a lie, replaced by a faint citrus aroma drifting through the space. The floor was polished white marble. Giant holographic advertisements streamed across the walls, displaying the latest prosthetics and cyberbrain chips rotating elegantly.
The woman seated at the reception counter was a high-end model, almost fully prosthetic from the neck down. Her skin was smooth as porcelain, and her smile was perfectly programmed.
"Welcome, Mr. Batou of Public Security Section 9. How may I assist you?"
Even her voice was synthesized.
Batou removed his black round sunglasses and placed both hands on the counter.
"I want to check the shipping records for the Nereid Mark VI. This is a voluntary inquiry."
His voice resonated low. But the reception AI's smile didn't change in the slightest.
"I apologize. The data I can provide cannot be disclosed without a court-issued warrant."
Batou's prosthetic hand creaked faintly.
"...We're investigating a series of cyberbrain hacking incidents. Every victim was turned into a vegetable using your chips."
"I must apologize again. Poseidon fully intends to cooperate with the investigation, but from the standpoint of protecting our customers' privacy, a formal warrant is required."
A textbook response. Proof she'd been programmed to say it countless times.
"Then bring out someone in charge."
"Certainly."
A few minutes later, a trio descended from the elevator.
Leading them was a thin man with silver-rimmed glasses. Flanking him were two large men in suits — clearly combat-grade prosthetics. The bulge of their muscles was visible even through the fabric.
"Thank you for waiting. I'm Jin Henrick, from Poseidon's Legal Department."
The man wore a thin smile. Though he was a full head shorter than Batou, his gaze was condescending.
"Mr. Batou, was it? I'm well aware of Public Security Section 9's extrajudicial authority. However, this matter falls outside your jurisdiction. Article 3, Paragraph 7 of the Cybercrime Countermeasures Act — the obligation to cooperate with voluntary investigations does not apply to corporations."
"People are dead."
"Yes, a tragic affair. However, we are merely the party that sold chips to the victims. The fact that they were used for criminal purposes does not provide legal grounds to disclose shipping records, which are trade secrets—"
"Tch. Damn it."
Batou's fist stopped just short of the marble edge of the counter.
If he'd slammed it down, the floor would have cracked. The grip strength of a full military-grade prosthetic was five times that of a natural body.
"Please refrain, Mr. Batou. This is Poseidon's private property. Destruction of property is subject to criminal penalties."
Henrick's tone was cold, utterly unshaken.
(*This bastard knew it would go this way from the start.*)
Batou clenched his back teeth.
He understood it in his head. There was no way he could storm into a major corporation's headquarters without a warrant and extract information. But even knowing that, it infuriated him. The faces of the victims — their personalities burned away inside their cyberbrains — floated behind his eyelids and wouldn't leave.
"...People are dying because of the chips you made."
"I understand how you feel. However, our company employs approximately 42,000 people annually and bears twelve percent of Niihama City's tax revenue. We cannot casually comply with an investigation lacking legal basis—"
"—Ah, enough already. Listening to this is making *me* embarrassed."
Suddenly, a light voice rang through the hall.
Turning around, Batou saw Ishikawa walking through the automatic doors. Emerald-green hair swayed around her shoulders. Her pale golden eyes were half-closed, looking slightly sleepy. The cyber-warfare genius always appeared on the scene with this languid air about her.
"Ishikawa... you're late."
"I've never been late for anything except cyber battles. ...More importantly, what are you so angry about?"
Ishikawa looked up at Batou's massive frame and let out a small, exasperated sigh. At 155 centimeters, she barely reached the chest of the 192-centimeter Batou.
"I'm not angry. It's just, these guys—"
"That's why you end up looking like a fool, trying to fight with the law. You're all muscle — you should just compete with muscle."
"...What's that supposed to mean?"
"Watch and learn."
Saying that, Ishikawa sat down on a bench in the corner of the hall. Her small body, wrapped in a loose-silhouette parka, sank completely into the luxurious sofa. She pulled out her smartphone and began tapping something.
At a glance, she looked like she was just checking social media.
But Batou knew. Those fingertip movements meant she was diving into the cyberbrain.
"Hey, don't tell me..."
"Quiet. Buy me forty-seven seconds."
Her voice echoed directly inside Batou's cyberbrain.
Batou moved on reflex.
He casually shifted his 192-centimeter bulk, positioning himself to hide Ishikawa's back. He took another step sideways, creating a blind spot from the hall's surveillance cameras. At times like this, having huge muscles was useful. He was fine being a shield.
"Mr. Batou? Is something the matter?"
"...No, nothing."
Batou answered curtly, listening to his own heartbeat.
(*Ishikawa is in cyberspace right now.*)
(*She's infiltrating Poseidon's visitor management system, trying to steal past logs.*)
(*Something I could never do.*)
Batou was bad at cyber warfare.
To be precise, he stumbled at elementary school arithmetic level. Cyberbrain programs were strings of numbers and blocks of symbols, and to Batou, they just looked like ciphertext. He couldn't comprehend how to enter the world where symbols and numbers held meaning, the way Ishikawa did.
What was she doing inside her head right now?
At what speed was she processing information?
He couldn't even imagine it.
(*She's amazing. Really.*)
A tingling burn deep in his chest.
Admiration, and jealousy.
That helpless feeling when you see someone who possesses something you lack. But more than that—
"Forty seconds."
Her voice echoed in his cyberbrain again.
Batou moved his body further, blocking another surveillance camera.
Henrick was saying something. Stringing together troublesome legal jargon, implicitly telling him to leave. But it didn't reach Batou's ears.
"...Huh?"
Suddenly, Ishikawa's voice changed.
Even though it came through the cyberbrain, he could tell clearly. She had found something. Something unexpected.
"Ishikawa, what is it?"
"Forty-seven seconds. It's done."
Ishikawa tucked her smartphone into her parka pocket and stood up. Her expression revealed nothing. But her golden eyes were slightly narrower than before.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Henrick. Excuse us."
Pulling Batou's sleeve, Ishikawa headed briskly for the exit.
"Wha— hey, what's going on?"
"I'll explain outside."
As the two passed through the automatic doors, Henrick delivered a final parting shot.
"Next time you visit, please be sure to bring a warrant. Otherwise, our company's security forces will be obliged to respond."
Batou didn't answer. Instead, Ishikawa gave a small wave without looking back.
It was a provocative gesture.
After leaving Waterfront Tower, on the way to the monorail station, Batou finally spoke.
"So, what did you steal?"
He'd meant to keep his voice down, but it was impossible. Passersby flinched and turned around.
"'Steal' is such an unpleasant way to put it."
Walking calmly, Ishikawa showed Batou her smartphone screen.
"I copied the visitor logs for the Research and Development department from the past three months, from Poseidon's visitor management system. And while I was at it, the specific lot numbers for the Nereid Mark VI."
"...You broke the law."
"Do you know the word 'extrajudicial'?"
"That's Section 9's policy. But it's not something you should do personally. The risk—"
"—Batou."
Ishikawa stopped walking.
They had just reached the entrance to the monorail station. An old advertisement flapped noisily in the wind. She looked up at Batou. Her small, 155-centimeter frame stared steadily up at his 192-centimeter bulk.
Her golden eyes held a strong light.
"[serious]This is something only I can do. Cyberspace is my battlefield. If you protect me with your muscles, then I'll protect you from outside the law."
Batou was at a loss for words.
A brief silence. The roar of a monorail passing overhead filled the space between them.
"...You, that's..."
"What?"
"Never mind."
Batou put his sunglasses back on.
His face was hot. If he hadn't had the sunglasses, he'd have looked like a boiled octopus by now.
(*"Protect" — did she mean it that way?*)
(*No. Probably as a work partner.*)
(*But "protect"... ah, damn it, it sounds like a different meaning.*)
Batou's head was a mess, like someone had dumped a hundred tons of scrap metal in there.
"[flustered]I-It's not like I meant anything deep by it! It's just a strategic partnership thing!"
Ishikawa suddenly started talking fast.
She too had turned bright red, and she yanked her parka hood over her head.
"I know! I know, so don't say any more!"
"Don't shout, it's embarrassing!"
The two walked in silence for a while and bought monorail tickets. When they fumbled in front of the machine, a salaryman behind them clicked his tongue. Even that felt embarrassing right now.
The monorail car heading back to Section 9 was, fortunately, empty.
Batou and Ishikawa sat side by side, each spreading out their terminals. Outside the window, Niihama's chaotic cityscape streamed by. Hologram advertisements plastered across building walls, old multi-tenant buildings with exposed piping — as they approached Tachibana Ward, where the cyberization rate was low, the scenery grew even more cluttered.
"So, I've been doing some digging too."
Batou pulled a thick bundle of paper from the inside pocket of his leather jacket.
"...You're still printing things out on paper? Unbelievable."
"Shut up. I'm bad at managing things in the cyberbrain."
Batou spread out the papers. A list of all the victims, the serial numbers of the Nereid Mark VI units they'd been fitted with, purchase dates, treatment records from prosthetic clinics. It was an analog method, but Batou could only organize information by writing it out on paper. When he tried to operate a cyberbrain screen, his mind immediately got confused.
"We'll cross-reference this with the logs you stole."
"Yeah, yeah."
Ishikawa tapped her terminal, displaying the data she'd obtained through hacking.
"This lot number... MKVI-2042-03."
Her finger stopped at one point on the screen.
"All the victims were using chips from the same lot, shipped three years ago."
"A problem with a specific lot?"
"Look. Here are the visitor logs."
Ishikawa opened another screen. Records of visits to the Research and Development department. Names, affiliations, purpose of visit, and the code names of the personnel in charge.
Among them, one entry.
In the column for Quality Control Manager, a single code was recorded.
KRW-339.
"...This."
Her voice instantly dropped to a whisper.
"What is it?"
Batou peered at the screen.
KRW-339.
His heart gave one massive leap.
"That's Kurasawa's registration number."
"...No way."
Ishikawa froze, clutching her terminal. Her golden eyes were wide open. Her lightly pigmented irises shimmered, catching the light from the train window.
"Kurasawa was supposed to have died three years ago."
"But this is..."
"Shipping for this lot started after Kurasawa died. And the fact that he's registered as the Quality Control Manager means—"
"—It means he's alive."
Her voice trembled.
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