Author's Preface
August 14th, 1042 PWE (Post-War Era) — Planet Urr, Haven Hotel
[Two weeks before the impending raid]
———
Haven Hotel was a five-star commercial establishment known for hosting celebrities from around the world. Many a pop star, politician, influencer, and athlete have known the prestige of this hotel, and today was no different.
Or rather, today couldn’t be any more different.
“The hit rock ' n ' roll artist of the century, Raigen D . Madam Crowler of the Great Magic Association, the sensational pop-group of the times - Calico Rhythmic , and the Supreme President himself, Skadhi Bhattacharya . These key figures will serve as the main attraction of the event.”
While high-profile figures weren’t a rarity in Haven Hotel, it was exceedingly outré, perhaps even unprecedented, to have this many A-listers in one room, discussing the plans of the nation’s future.
At the head of the table, beside Supreme President Skadhi Bhattacharya, sat a garish man with an intoxicated grin — Radio Host Junn Marauder .
The bespectacled man with slicked-back hair and a flashy purple suit struck an exotic pose.
“IMI-GO RADIO CENTER PRESENTS THE GREATEST BROADCAST OF THE CENTURY — THE FIGHT FOR TOMORROW! TOPIC — EXTERMINATING THE HUMAN MENACE!”
Madam Crowler of the Great Magic Association laughed haughtily, as though a child was entertaining her. “Good, good! I would expect no less from a radio host! Pitcher!”
“If we wanna appeal to the people, we gotta play at their heart strings. Half-measures won’t cut it.” Raigen D sat in the corner of the room away from the table of discussion, plucking away at his guitar. “Cool! Super cool! Kids don’t want any lame old shits to ruin the vibe!”
“How crass…” interjected Ichi, the lead dancer of Calico Rhythmic.
“Totally.”
“Un-”
“Cool!”
The three remaining members of Calico Rhythmic, Ni, San, and Shi, finished their expression independently, each saying a specific part of the sentence.
“Tch!” Raigen D sucked his teeth, averting his gaze.
“Everyone.”
“...”
“...”
“...”
President Skadhi raised his hand, bringing the endless bickering in the room to a sudden halt.
“Let us discuss these matters like adults.” With the snap of his finger, his personal assistant and closest bodyguard, Melethusda , placed a handful of documents in front of the President. She had deep magenta hair tied in a bun, her expression as deadpan and pale as a corpse.
“Get angry! Get loud! Resist! — The human rebels have been spreading this message across the nation for the past three months, yes? In that time, we have lost roughly 30 policemen, two stations, and ammunition roughly equivalent to 450,000 dollars…yes?”
“...”
“Well? Are you all healthy? Spry and young? I asked you a question.”
“Y-Yes, sir!” His threatening tone shattered the stifling silence, provoking a response from the Head Chief of Police, Quinnius Rae .
“I see, I see…HA!” The Supreme President threw his head back in joyous laughter. “A comedy, truly! The police of this nation, of our great Urr, cannot handle a group of varlets! Priceless!”
“Sir…?”
Skadhi got up from his seat, approached Quinnius, and placed his hand gently on the Chief’s shoulder. “The image of our authority is in shambles, you understand? If vagrants start running around causing trouble, then you have to wave a large stick — just like this.”
“—!”
With a single squeeze of his hand, Supreme President Skadhi Bhattacharya tore the man’s shoulder clean off, placing it gently on the table.
“G-GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUH!”
The Head Chief of police jumped out of his seat, clutching his missing shoulder as he howled in pain. The fear, the pain, the looming presence of death — it drove the man to a panicked frenzy. The celebrities, on the other hand, were dead silent, lest they invoke the dragon’s wrath.
“You see, Head Chief Rae, I do not necessarily hate laziness, but I do hate incompetence. Are you trying to spit on the kindness I’ve given you? The power? The position? Our image is of the utmost importance! Any victory, no matter how small, can spark these thoughts. The humans will think we’re no big deal! That we are weak!”
“N-N-N-No S-Sir…I! I! It wasn’t my fault!”
“No, I believe it was.”
President Skadhi’s hand wrapped around the Head Chief’s neck like a vice. Tighter. Tighter. Tight enough to draw out a purple complexion from the man’s face.
“Man…you really are an ugly guy! I don’t think your face will boost ratings on next week’s broadcast, so I’ll have to lay you off personally. Don’t be too upset about this, alright? It’s just business.”
A slight squeeze of his right hand. That was all it took to pop the Head Chief’s skull like a balloon. The explosive force sprayed the room in blood, brain matter, bones, and viscera. Red. A deep red. A nauseating red.
“...”
“...”
“...”
Hold it in , the A-list celebrities thought. Hold in the disgust, and I might make it out alive.
“Now then, everyone!” Supreme President Skadhi Bhattacharya clasped his hands together, his eyes shut. “Let us begin the meeting.”
———
It was a brisk morning, where sparse clouds drifted across the sky, and trees gently fluttered in the wind—an ordinary late-summer day.
Well, that was a bit of a fib—a trivial lie. Today marked the date of an operational briefing for the Imperial Wisterian Army, an army that we, the Problem Children, were only associated with via technicality. Most soldiers fell under the jurisdiction of the Fifth Seat of the Divine Generals, Athene Noctua , who served as Secretary of Defense, with King Qui Han himself serving as Commander-in-Chief. We of Barrack 12D, however, were not categorized as enlisted infantrymen under the authority of Athene Noctua, but as Special Operations Agents under the Third Seat of the Divine Generals, Mai’wen.
In other words, we were anomalies who had no place amongst normal soldiers, so we were sequestered away under the direct authority of a Seat. It was an inconvenient position, of course, but a valuable one all the same. Our strength was far too valuable for the kingdom to dismiss as liabilities merely.
That was the value of the Problem Children.
Given our strange relationship with the Wisteria military institution, we were not obligated to attend today’s briefing and thus had nothing to do in the morning.
I was more than thankful for the time off.
“Ha…” I sighed with relief. “Today really is a good day. Wouldn’t you say so, Derrick?”
“W-Well…I wouldn’t say it's the best. I’m actually in a pretty tight situation right now!”
I glanced over his shoulder from my bunk. In his trembling hands was a 9 of hearts and a 3 of clubs. Given my limited knowledge of poker (Atreides had shown me the ropes), Derrick’s current hand could only be considered terrible. I suppose we Problem Children were cursed with terrible luck.
“What’s wrong, Derrick?” said Atreides with a smug glare. “Are you perhaps out of options? There is nothing wrong with folding, you know? We all get unlucky.”
“Shut it! I’ll raise!”
Derrick pushed three cinnamon-flavored nutrient bars forward. It was no small bet, as cinnamon-flavor was the most popular variety of nutrient bar in the canteen. Many would kill for such a delicacy. He was really putting his life on the line.
I wish I could help him in this deadly exchange, but alas, I was likely even worse at the game than Derrick was, so my assistance was of little importance.
With a sympathetic salute, I saw the poker duo off and headed outside, where I was greeted by Keresaspa, attending to her daily exercise.
“Morning, Ereth.”
“Morning.”
She was doing handstand push-ups yet didn’t seem exhausted in the slightest.
“So,” I said awkwardly, “How’s the morning workout been?”
“It has been…un-invigorating. I believed this would lighten my mood, but this is far too easy a challenge. Nay, it cannot be called a challenge at all!”
“How many reps have you done?”
“12,528.”
“Ah…”
She wasn’t human; she couldn’t be.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find something soon.”
I said that with the intention of ending the conversation, of ending the topic and moving on, but it seems the power of the tongue is far more potent than I realized.
From a distance, I could see a familiar cart approaching us. It was unlike the camel carts I was accustomed to back in Saranhell. It was a buggy, a one-horse vehicle with Lieutenant Sahyat at its helm. This usually signaled one of two things, reprimand or reward, and I saw no reason for reward.
She arrived at Barrack 12D, tethering her horse-drawn vehicle to a hitching post.
“Barrack 12D, to the front!”
“—!”
Her booming voice snatched our attention in an instant, with Derrick and Atreides stumbling out of the building in their sleepwear.
“The Third Seat has ordered an immediate gathering at District 3. Prepare yourself immediately. We will be leaving in 15 minutes. If you can’t make it, then walk.”
“...Immediate gathering?”
Something like this had never happened before, at least as long as I’ve been in service. The others seemed unbothered by the announcement. Hell, Keresaspa seemed almost excited.
“Finally…!” She said under her breath. “A worthy battle!”