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 jealousy is completely exposed in cyberspace.
[angry]Tch, for crying out loud.
Batou cut the comms and walked out into the night streets of Aoba Ward, pulling up the collar of his leather jacket. The scent of the curry spices he'd been eating with Ishikawa just a while ago still lingered deep in his nose.
*(An illegal chip modification clinic, huh.)*
Gouda's intel was always accurate. Tachibana Ward, Block 3 — an abandoned factory in the old city. Batou advanced through the nighttime city, pulling up map data on his cybernetic eyes.
The air changed the moment he crossed from Aoba Ward's residential district into Tachibana Ward. Low-rise postwar buildings crowded together, neon signs flickering erratically. Cyberization rate: sixty-eight percent. Even within Niihama, this was an area with a high concentration of drifters and non-cyberized citizens. The smell of cheap booze and someone's angry shouting drifted out from the back alleys.
"Batou, can you hear me?"
Ishikawa's voice echoed directly in his cyberbrain. She was connected remotely from the Public Security Section 9 headquarters operations room. Monitoring the feed from Batou's cybernetic eyes and his cyberbrain data, she handled the cyber-investigation — that was their division of labor.
"Yeah."
"I just confirmed the exterior of the abandoned factory through your eyes. No doubt about it — matches Gouda's intel. Entrance is on the south side. Stairs leading down to a basement level. I'll scan for residual cyberbrain traces from here."
"Roger."
*(Convenient, this setup.)*
Batou muttered inwardly. He breaches on-site, Ishikawa provides cyber support from a safe location. It made sense. Ishikawa was a genius at cyber warfare, and he was — well, the muscle.
That was fine. He believed that.
But still.
*(A distance I can't reach, huh.)*
Something prickled deep in his chest, for no clear reason.
The abandoned factory was tucked away in a secluded corner of Tachibana Ward, Block 3. A metal processing plant that hadn't been used in years — rusted pipes crawled across the walls, every window shattered. The entrance shutter was left half-open, cold air streaming out from inside.
Batou ducked under the shutter and stepped into the facility.
The weight of his military-grade full cyborg body made the metal floor plates groan. His head-mounted night-vision sensors activated automatically, painting the darkness in pale blue outlines. Abandoned machine tools, scattered implements, old safety posters peeling off the walls —
"The stairs on your right. Head down to the basement."
"I know."
The stairs were a steel spiral staircase. The air grew colder with every step down. A smell of mold and machine oil mingled together. Countless graffiti tags covered the walls — mostly tagging, but among them, one old piece sprayed in faded letters: *The Cyberbrain Devours the Soul.*
*(Anti-cyberization graffiti, huh.)*
There were people like that in Niihama too. Those who refused cyberization, rejected prosthetic bodies, clung to their "natural flesh." But he couldn't imagine people like that hanging around this abandoned factory.
When he reached the basement, a wide space opened up before him. Once, this had been the factory's warehouse. But now — it was clearly something else entirely. Operating tables lined the walls. Shadowless surgical lamps. IV stands. And shelves haphazardly stacked with cyberbrain chip packages.
"So this is the underground clinic."
"It should be. But..."
Ishikawa's voice carried a faint edge of tension.
"The people and equipment — almost everything's been cleared out. They pulled up stakes. At least twenty-four hours ago, maybe more."
"Someone got wind of it."
"Probably. But something's off."
"What?"
"The server's still running. Normally, if you're abandoning an underground clinic, you wipe the server data before you run. But this — it's almost like they left it on purpose."
Batou walked silently toward the server rack in the corner of the room.
An old cooling fan rattled with an eerie noise. The indicator on the front panel flickered faintly green.
"Ishikawa, can you check this server?"
"I'll try. I'll establish a cyberbrain connection through your cyborg body. Just give me a moment."
A few seconds of silence.
In the corner of Batou's vision, data streams began to flow. The sign that Ishikawa was launching a hack into the server. Whenever she moved through cyberspace, it was always like this — quiet, fast, precise. Slipping through firewalls like water flowing.
*(She's incredible. Really.)*
Batou thought. Something he could never do. Talent for cyber warfare — that was something he simply didn't have. What he had was muscle, this cyborg body, and the will to carry out the mission.
*(That's enough.)*
He tried to believe that. But every time he watched Ishikawa work, something burned and prickled deep in his chest. Admiration, jealousy — probably something else entirely.
[serious]...This is bad."
Ishikawa's voice suddenly went hard.
"What is it?"
"I'm analyzing the residual cyberbrain traces. There's evidence of a high-level external hack performed within the last seventy-two hours. I found the entry point. But this level — it's not just Wizard-class. Someone above my level used this place."
A chill crept slowly down Batou's spine.
Above Ishikawa. She was the best hacker in Section 9, top-tier even among Wizard-class operators. For her to say someone was "above her" —
"Who?"
In that moment.
The air in the abandoned factory changed.
Without any warning, cyberspace began to warp. What Batou's cybernetic eyes captured was a phenomenon like the air itself rippling — and then, as if bleeding out from the fabric of space, a human figure appeared.
[laughing]Well, well, Batou. It's been a while."
Batou reflexively raised his gun.
But it was pointless. The figure wasn't physical. A ghost projected into cyberspace — the form of his former instructor, Kurasawa.
A black eyepatch. Stubble running from sideburns to chin. Slicked-back black hair streaked with white. A soft, sweet voice. And on his lips, that ever-present smile of absolute confidence.
"You bastard — you're alive!"
Batou's voice swelled with rage.
[laughing]Same as ever, I see. Pointing a gun at me the moment I show up — you really are nothing but a musclehead."
Kurasawa didn't move a step, just kept smiling.
[sarcastic]But you see, Batou, this is a cyberspace projection. That gun of yours can't touch me."
Batou ground his back teeth.
*(I know. I know that.)*
But what else was he supposed to do? When he couldn't fight in cyberspace, raising his gun was all he had —
"Batou, calm down! That's Kurasawa. Don't approach him recklessly."
Ishikawa's voice cut in through the cyberbrain connection. But her voice was trembling slightly.
[gentle]Oh? Ishikawa's connected too, is she?"
Kurasawa's voice grew even softer.
[gentle]It's been a long time, Ishikawa. I was just watching your cyber hack earlier. Magnificent as always. You remembered what I taught you well."
[cold]...Sensei."
Ishikawa's voice went small.
*(Sensei?)*
Batou furrowed his brow. Ishikawa calling Kurasawa "Sensei" — that was a holdover from when she was a rookie fresh to Section 9. Back then, the one who'd been her cyber warfare instructor was Kurasawa.
[gentle]Brings back memories. You always shone in cyberspace. Though you were catastrophically clumsy in the real world."
[sad]...Stop."
[gentle]Do you remember? The day I first taught you how to breach a firewall. You mastered it in three hours. You were a genius."
[angry]I said shut up!"
Batou shouted.
Kurasawa's gaze slowly turned toward Batou.
[laughing]Oh my. Jealous, are we? Your reactions are as adorable as ever."
"Shut your mouth."
[sarcastic]But you know, Batou, you've always been like this. Can't handle cyber warfare, look up to hackers like me, but since you can't do it yourself, you try to solve everything with muscle. It's almost like — yes, like you're burning with jealousy."
"That's not true!"
[cold]It is true. You haven't changed at all. Every time you see Ishikawa's talent, you convince yourself you're inferior. And to hide that inferiority complex, you run away into muscle and loyalty. But — you know, don't you? That's not enough."
Batou's fist trembled.
*(That's not — I said that's not true.)*
But somewhere in his heart, a part of him admitted it. He had no talent for cyber warfare. He couldn't race freely through cyberspace like Ishikawa, like Kurasawa.
[gentle]And so, Ishikawa."
Kurasawa's voice suddenly turned sweet. It shifted — no longer addressing Batou, but speaking directly to Ishikawa through the cyberbrain connection.
[gentle]It's been a long time. How about it — instead of this muscle-brained partner of yours... won't you come with me?"
Silence.
For a moment, it felt like time had stopped.
[whispers]...Let me think about it. Just a little."
Something inside Batou's head snapped audibly.
*(Let her think about it — ?)*
What did she just say? What did she just say? "Let me think about it" to Kurasawa — not a rejection, not an acceptance. Words where her true feelings slipped out. Her heart had wavered, for her first love from long ago.
Batou didn't remember how he moved.
Before he knew it, he had grabbed a scrap steel beam lying nearby — ten centimeters in diameter. The grip strength of a military-grade full cyborg body: five times that of a flesh-and-blood human. And that grip closed around solid steel —
*CRRRUUUNCH!!!*
A thunderous roar. Iron dust scattered into the air. The steel beam was crushed into a mangled wreck inside Batou's hand.
[surprised]Ah...!"
Through the cyberbrain connection, he heard Ishikawa's short cry.
[laughing]Hahaha! What an adorable reaction! That complex of yours — still hasn't changed a bit!"
Kurasawa's loud laughter shook the air of the abandoned factory.
[laughing]Batou, you really are — utterly unchanged. I say a few words to Ishikawa, and your head boils over with jealousy, and you crush a steel beam with your bare hands. Exactly the same as three years ago. You've always been like that."
"SHUT UUUUP!!"
Batou hurled the crushed remains of the steel beam against the wall.
*BOOM!*
The concrete wall shattered, fragments of steel scattering across the floor.
[gentle]Ishikawa, I'll hear your answer anytime. I think very highly of your talent. You're welcome whenever you're ready."
Kurasawa's voice, gentle — whispered those final words.
And then.
Kurasawa's ghost slowly faded. The distortion in cyberspace subsided. The air returned to normal.
[whispers]...Goodbye, Sensei."
Ishikawa's voice sounded like it was trembling with tears.
Kurasawa's form vanished completely.
Silence returned to the abandoned factory.
Only the rattling of the server's cooling fan grated unnervingly on the ears.
"...The server data's been completely wiped."
Ishikawa broke the silence.
"He erased it. Zero traces. There's nothing left — no clues."
"...Is that so."
Batou said only that.
He didn't know what else to say.
[whispers]Batou, what happened earlier — those words I said —"
"...I know."
Batou cut her off.
"It doesn't bother me."
A lie.
There was no way it didn't bother him. She had said "let me think about it" to Kurasawa. Her heart had wavered for the man she'd once loved. And he had heard all of it, through the cyberbrain connection.
*(Why isn't it me?)*
Somewhere in his heart, someone was screaming.
But he couldn't say it out loud. He had no right to. Ishikawa and he were just colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. So why did his chest ache this much?
[sad]...Thanks. For the investigation support."
Batou forced the words out, as if wringing them from his throat.
[whispers]Huh — wait, Batou —"
Batou cut the cyberbrain connection, one-sidedly.
Ishikawa's voice vanished.
The basement of the abandoned factory was silent. In the air thick with drifting iron dust, Batou stood alone, rooted to the spot. His fist was still trembling. The sensation of t
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