Assassin Shiki — The Sea Colony

The 3rd Space Colony: Oceanus. Eighty-one percent of its surface is ocean, which is what earned it the name the Sea Colony. Even Earth, which people call the water planet, is only seventy-one percent ocean; seen from space, this blue outshines even the homeworld’s.

The whole colony is a tropical zone of perpetual summer, thick with jungles and mountains, its environment said to be modeled on the real-world nation of Thailand.

It has three major cities, the capital among them, along with twelve mid-sized cities and fifty-eight small ones. Its player population runs to 2.84 million and its NPC population to 1.89 million, so 4.73 million Space Girls and humanoids call the place home in all. Resources are abundant, both mineral and marine, and since the heat scarcely troubles a Space Girl’s body, Oceanus is a favorite, the second most populous of the five colonies. With no restrictions on nationality, it’s a free-wheeling colony where people of every race, from all over the world, come together.

One of Oceanus’s mid-sized cities: Jolly Roger, a town where roughnecks gather. And in one unremarkable tavern there, the Bad Joke, sits a Space Girl with dead, lifeless eyes.

“Aaagh… I can’t do this crap anymore. Ugh, just can’t.”

Messy white hair scraped back into a ponytail that hasn’t seen a shower in days, a sand-colored coat, hot pants. This is Ivan, a two-bit courier.

“Oh my~? What’s the matter, Ivy — another job gone bust?”

At the tavern master’s question, Ivan lifts those dead-fish eyes.

“The same damn bandits again. The hell do they even have against me?”

“My, my. Why not find yourself some other line of work~? We’re hiring here, you know~?”

“You want me in some low-cut getup? Who’s that supposed to please? I’m short, I’m flat, and I’ve got a rotten glare on top of it. I’ll say it myself, but if I carried your food out, it’d only make it taste worse.”

She says it flatly, in that husky voice, and swings her beer mug side to side.

It’s true that Ivan is thin on anything you could call femininity. She looks boyish, her voice is androgynous, and her manners are rough. But this world holds nothing but women, so even if she waited tables exactly as she is, she’d probably still pull a certain kind of fan.

“And you’re the one who made your character that way, aren’t you~”

“Making yourself look too different from who you really are is just hollow. Besides — even if I were some peerless beauty, a regular Cleopatra, I still wouldn’t work a bar. I came into this world to grip a steering wheel. If it came down to quitting my job, I’d sooner quit the game.”

Ivan drains the mug she’s been served in one go. It tastes like liquor, though in the game it goes by the name ‘Gasoline.’

“You there! Iwan!!”

A brown-skinned Space Girl comes stomping up to Ivan, her face like a demon’s.

“It’s not Iwan, it’s Ivan. Mind your pronunciation.”

“Either way. When exactly are you going to deliver those Twin Legs I ordered?!”

“Ahh, about that — they kind of turned to dust out in the desert just now, or, well… got pecked apart by some crow somewheeere…”

“Wh…?! Don’t screw with me! I only ordered from you ‘cause you’re cheap, but I’m never asking you again! I’m reporting you to the military, so brace yourself! And I’m getting every last coin of damages out of you!”

The brown-skinned Space Girl storms out, her footsteps pounding.

“If you rack up any more black marks, aren’t you in real trouble~? They’ll bump you down to the ‘Criminal’ class, you know~”

“I know. I’m out of road.”

“And after you finally won an exclusive claim to that super-rare mine in the lottery — looks like it’s all about to go up in smoke~”

“Tell me about it. But the wheel’s all I’ve got. I can’t back down here.”

Ivan lights a cigarette and sets it between her lips.

“Guess it’s come to hiring a bodyguard…”

“A bodyguard, huh~. You don’t have the money to hire a whole bunch of them anymore, do you?”

“Right. Just one. I’ll hire one with real skill.”

Ivan shifts her gaze to the bulky television set on the liquor shelf. On the screen, footage of a certain Ranked Match is playing.

“Master, when’s this one from?”

“Ohh, that~. It’s from the recent C-Rank Ranked Match~”

“Why’re you showing C-Rank? Weak sauce. Put on A-Rank, A-Rank!”

“But this Ranked Match has Shiina and Tsubasa in it — both ex-Yggdrasil, you know~”

“For real? Now that’s a little more interesting.”

As Ivan watches the footage, one girl in particular catches her eye.

“Hey — who’s this?”

“Who do you mean?”

“This one! This Sniper! She just took Tsubasa’s arm off!”

“Oh, would you look at that~. A real dark horse, this one.”

Ivan’s fuss has the tavern’s patrons stealing glances at the television too. Before long the glances turn to open stares, and customers surge up from the tables to the counter. Every eye is nailed to the screen.

“My, my — this girl just overturned a twelve-on-one.”

“Solo, and she’s past ten kills…! Don’t tell me she’s about to take Tsubasa down just like this?”

Ivan’s hunch proves dead on.

The final showdown is a one-on-one. The battlefield blazes; the tavern roars. At the end of a fierce fight, the nameless sniper finally cuts down Tsubasa, that iron wall.

A roar of “WOOOOOAAAAHHH~~~!!!” goes up across the tavern.

“Player name: Shiki. No luck, though~. I looked her up and there’s nothing on her.”

“Huh? I’ve seen this girl — around town.”

The speaker is a just-arrived customer, a Space Girl with a close-cropped undercut.

“Seriously?! You know where she was headed?!”

“Umm, she went off toward the derelict quarter, I think.”

“Perfect! Master, here’s for my tab!”

Ivan settles up and steps outside.

She sets off in search of a bodyguard: that nameless sniper.