Using only a small handful of rice, Kurumi easily obtained everything she desired.
Like a nice hot bath, for example.
In these chaotic times, merely having enough food to eat was a luxury. Soybeans and wheat dominated the food market; rice was an extravagant delicacy only the nobility could afford.
The inn Kurumi stayed at was more of a homestay than an inn, typically hosting samurai passing through.
The innkeeper was a young girl in her prime, with an air of melancholy but a mature understanding. As Kurumi entered, the girl's first thought was that this must be a noblewoman; she quickly flipped the "Open" sign outside to "Closed."
With her head down, she respectfully prepared everything for the bath, then turned to leave. But remembering the allure in those wine-red eyes, she stopped short.
"Miss, would you like help with your back?"
"No need."
It was the response she'd expected. Quietly, the girl backed out of the room.
"Miss, I'll be right outside if you need me."
···
Kurumi stepped lightly toward the bath, her winter uniform from Raizen High School slipping off like a shadow.
Spirit gear certainly was convenient—effortlessly controlled by will.
With slender limbs and graceful curves, she sat in the bath with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her delicate, porcelain-like back was smooth and radiant, almost glowing in the moonlight.
She rested her head on her hand, blowing bubbles underwater, savoring this rare moment of relaxation.
The bubbles disturbed the steaming surface, and suddenly, Kurumi stilled.
A second figure appeared reflected in the water.
"I sent you all out to investigate this world, didn't I? So why are you back here?" The girl in the water's reflection had those same captivating wine-colored eyes.
"Oh my, my, you sent us to investigate, and here you are taking a bath? How mean!"
The sneaky clone climbed into the tub, the two girls now crowding together.
Feeling the warmth of soft, smooth skin against her back, Kurumi raised an eyebrow.
"If you keep slacking off, you won't be getting any allowance."
"Eek!" The words struck her clone's heart like an arrow. "I-I'm here to scrub your back!"
"Oh?" Kurumi's eyes narrowed playfully as she leaned back.
"What are you waiting for, then?"
Slacking off... pure joy!
Slacking off together... double the joy!
——
Kurumi's shadows reached everywhere, and with her grain bribery strategy, understanding the world's situation was almost too easy.
They even managed to obtain two steam guns.
But using steam-powered weapons required carrying a personal high-pressure boiler and the supply of a "Backpack Engine," which wasn't the most convenient setup.
···
The panorama of this world gradually unfolded before Kurumi.
[Hayatani Station] was a fortress far from the front lines.
Or, at least, it once was.
The Kabane disaster originated from Kyushu Island in the southwest. Ten years ago, the Shogunate sent four hundred thousand troops to Kyushu to fight the Kabane. Not a single one returned.
Afterward, fortresses were built across Japan, enclosing the populace for protection.
And one by one, the fortresses fell.
Tonight, the arrival of Hayajiro (earlier train) clearly signaled that the front lines had collapsed.
···
One particularly lazy clone, all honeyed smiles and flattery, managed to wheedle some extra allowance from Kurumi's hands before slipping back into the shadows, brimming with excitement.
The water had grown slightly cool by now, so Kurumi rose from the bath. Beads of water slid down her fair skin, then evaporated as her spirit energy enveloped her.
Black and red shadows cloaked her body, shifting into an ink-colored half-sleeved robe.
It resembled a kimono yet was distinctly different, with the wrists left bare and a hem that reached just to her knees.
Crimson spider lilies were embroidered across the fabric in vivid clusters.
This world's timeline seemed to be shortly after the First Industrial Revolution, in the late 18th century.
The Raizen High School uniform would definitely stand out a bit too much.
Donning wooden clogs, Kurumi stepped out, her outfit drawing a stunned expression from the young innkeeper who had been waiting by the door.
"M-Miss! Where are you going?"
"Oh, you can just call me Tokisaki," Kurumi said with a smile.
"O-Of course, Tokisaki-sama!"
Kurumi sighed with a resigned smile.
"I'm heading to the train depot to take a look."
"I'll show you the way!"
···
It was still June.
Hayatani Station lay shrouded in a final semblance of peace.
——
A ghostly rumor began circulating within Hayatani Station.
Word spread that the death-omen night owl of myth had descended upon the fortress, foretelling the city's ruin.
This rumor had originated among the samurai, which only added credibility.
Some said that the night owl had stood atop the Hayajiro, with eyes that shone like blood.
Some said the owl had a fearsome face with tusks, while others claimed it was a young girl barely five feet tall.
The samurai who mentioned her height was soon dragged into an alley, bag over his head, and beaten to a pulp. No one knew who'd done it.
···
By then, Kurumi had already left Hayatani Station.
She boarded a new Hayajiro—headed toward Kongoukaku.
That was the residence of the Shogun, reputedly the safest fortress in all of Japan.
Kurumi had a hunch that whoever called her here had some connection to that place.
——
The atmosphere aboard the armored locomotive was entirely different from that in the fortress; the accompanying samurai and civilians alike exuded an air of grimness.
The entire train was steeped in an unshakable smell of rust, a scent Kurumi knew all too well.
As the Hayajiro raced across the land, Kurumi saw the abandoned stations and the ravages left behind after Kabane attacks.
She witnessed firsthand the way samurai of this era fought the undead monsters.
Their swords seemed little more than ornaments; no one dared to engage Kabane in close combat.
The steam guns would fire and strike their targets—
But only managed to repel the Kabane, never kill them.
What felt like paper-thin membranes to Kurumi were insurmountable barriers to the ordinary warriors.
Fortunately, everything progressed without incident.
···
At the first light of dawn, with a violent shudder, Hayajiro pulled to a halt before a fortress known as [Aragane Station].
This station produced iron and housed a large number of steam artisans. the Hayajiro was due for some repairs.
As Kurumi gazed at the fortress, a faint premonition tugged at her; this place was where fate would unfold.
This was where the story would begin.
···
The drawbridge lowered, and Garou Fortress rolled into the forecourt of Aragane Station. The train entered a checkpoint, where everyone was required to undress for inspection, ensuring they bore no Kabane bite marks.
Kurumi, however, didn't join them. Instead, she sauntered off the back end of Garou Fortress with complete disregard.
There was no way she was stripping in front of others.
"Hey, hey! Everyone must undergo inspection!" A samurai holding a steam gun blocked Kurumi's path, his throat bobbing as he took in her striking appearance.
"Even women are not exempt."
"Hm?" Kurumi tilted her head, pressing a finger against her petal-like lips while lightly touching the collar of her robe with her other hand.
"So… you want to 'inspect' me?"
To stand naked and have a few men scrutinize every inch of her body?
Impossible.
The samurai looked at the mesmerizing young woman and shrank back. Anyone in this chaotic world who could wear something so bold was likely far beyond the reach of a common warrior, who could only lord over ordinary folk.
He gripped his steam gun tighter.
"The exit's on the other side! Everyone must be inspected—that's the rule."
"Oh?" Kurumi's arms hung at her sides, her light robe billowing in the breeze as she stood on the platform overlooking the gun-toting samurai below.
Partially hidden by her bangs, the one exposed eye—a crimson shade as rich as wine—gleamed with a chill sharper than any warrior he'd ever encountered. In the silence, the faint clinking of chains seemed to echo.
"Rules say... then she's to be treated as a Kabane!" the samurai stammered, taking a nervous step back as he raised his gun toward Kurumi.
But before he could finish speaking, a glint of steel sliced the air.
With a single snick, his steam gun was cut in half, the edges of the slice polished to a mirror finish.
The barrel clattered to the ground, rolling away with a soft ringing.
Frozen, the samurai looked up at Kurumi, whose delicate wrist was wrapped in a dark, gleaming chain. At the end of it was a hefty gunblade, swinging lightly from her hand.
With a hint of a smirk, Kurumi spun the blade in lazy circles. "Don't point that thing at me, or I might get angry."
···
Steam leaked from the cut end of the gun, and the samurai stood in a daze. He hurriedly detached the weapon from the boiler strapped to his waist and tossed it aside, shouting loudly.
"Help! Somebody help! There's someone refusing inspection here!"
His cries were quickly answered.
A few at a time, a dozen samurai jogged over, surrounding the platform where Kurumi stood.
But seeing her luxurious attire, none of them dared to make a move, fearing she might be a lover or daughter of some important figure. No one wanted to risk being handed over as a scapegoat by their superiors.
Kurumi merely chuckled and sat down on the edge of the platform, her slender, smooth legs swinging back and forth while she twirled the gunblade in her hand, as elegantly as if it were a butterfly.
Each flick of the blade's edge was a flash of deadly intent.
"What's going on here?" A new voice barked. A samurai with twin swords on his hips pushed through the group—evidently, a mid-ranking officer.
"Sir..." The first samurai practically scrambled over to him. "She... she refused the inspection and then attacked! Look, she even cut my gun in half."
A collective gasp went up as the group took in the two halves of the steam gun lying on the ground. A chill ran down their spines as they took another look at Kurumi, a growing wariness in their gaze.
Smack!
The officer slapped the first samurai across the face.
"You're an embarrassment. Get out of my sight."
"Yes... yes, sir..." The man retreated, clutching his cheek.
The officer turned to Kurumi. "Miss... I apologize for his impertinence; he will be severely disciplined."
"However... the inspection is necessary to ensure the safety of the station."
Seeing her brow beginning to arch, he hastily added, "Of course, we can arrange for female samurai and engineers to assist, and you may even choose someone you're comfortable with. But we must follow protocol."
"Mmm," Kurumi nodded slightly.
"You make a fair point—"
"But I refuse."
Swoosh!
All the steam guns were immediately raised and aimed at Kurumi.
The officer's hand gripped his sword hilt, his thumb pressing open the guard.
"Miss... Aragane Station isn't your personal playground. Allowing you a special inspection was already our largest concession."
He seemed to be trying to intimidate her.
Click.
Kurumi's right hand settled on the hilt of her gunblade.
"Threatening me? With what? Those steam guns that can't even kill Kabane? Or... perhaps, you?" She tilted her wrist, and the barrel of the gunblade pointed directly at him.
"Also, I believe I mentioned—I don't appreciate guns aimed at me."
With a light hop, she stepped off the platform. While everyone's eyes were focused on her right hand, Kurumi's left hand flicked forward, and with a flash of steel, she severed the steam gun hoses connecting to the boilers on their belts.
Hissssss—
The hoses whipped around as steam spewed from them, the samurai reeling in shock.
The officer's face paled, and he scrambled to draw his sword.
Kurumi swung her gunblade's handle around, striking him squarely in the stomach. He doubled over, clutching his abdomen. With a pull of the chain, Kurumi retracted the gunblade, twisting it to deliver a blow to the back of his neck.
The officer slumped to his knees, unconscious.
With a casual step, Kurumi placed her wooden geta sandal on his back, the gunblade poised in her right hand, her left resting elegantly against her leg.
"Oh dear, no need to threaten me. I... frighten easily, you know."
——
As the tense standoff escalated, a pair entered through the crowd.
A stern samurai led the way, holding a steam gun with practiced ease, a long sword at his waist. His fair hands were thickly calloused, marking him as far more skilled than the average.
Behind him walked a girl with a high ponytail, wearing a pale pink kimono, with an orange flower tucked in her hair.
The crowd of samurai visibly relaxed at her arrival.
"Ayame-sama is here." The samurai looked at her with admiration; she was the daughter of the station's head—any man who married her would be set for life.
It seemed someone had already informed her of the commotion. She approached Kurumi directly.
The striking young woman in black captivated Ayame, with her eerie allure, her foot on the downed officer's back, and those strange, double-barreled gunblades in her hands.
And that mesmerizing crimson eye...
Such a remarkable girl refusing the inspection—that, she could almost understand.
"I'll conduct the inspection myself," Ayame declared, her voice clear. Her samurai attendant frowned, but before he could protest, Ayame waved him off.
"Please, allow me to escort you to our residence," she said, giving Kurumi a respectful bow and gesturing the way.
"Oh?" Kurumi's smile widened, intrigued.
As the trio left, the samurai dispersed, lifting the unfortunate officer off the ground.
···
At the heart of the station, on a small hill, stood Ayame's luxurious residence.
She personally guided Kurumi inside, leaving her attendant waiting outside.
And as Ayame turned, she saw Kurumi lightly pulling her collar open, exposing a glimpse of her smooth, flawless collarbone and a hint of cleavage. Even Ayame, herself a young woman, felt drawn in by those wine-red eyes, so filled with charm.
"Wh-what... are you doing?"
"Oh my, Ayame-san~~ didn't you say you'd inspect me yourself?" Kurumi teased with a sly grin.
"Kabane are dangerous, after all."
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"What's the matter, Ayame-san~~?"
Kurumi leaned in close, her warm breath tickling Ayame's hair and bringing with it a faint floral fragrance.
Ayame, taking in Kurumi's flawless features and fair, porcelain-like skin, grew more certain this girl had to be a noble lady from a prestigious family. She only seemed to have a particularly mischievous streak.
"Please, show some restraint."
Ayame's voice was soft and timid as she raised her arm to shield herself from Kurumi's advances.
Tall and elegant, Ayame's height surpassed Kurumi's by nearly a head.
"Are you sure you don't want to inspect me~~?" Kurumi's eyes lowered as she adjusted her collar.
"What if I really have been bitten by a Kabane? Then all the blame would be on you."
"With your skills, Miss Tokisaki, I doubt that's possible," Ayame replied calmly. "And, besides, I don't smell any blood on you."
"Oh?" Kurumi's red eyes flicked up to meet Ayame's with an icy intensity.
In that instant, Ayame felt like she'd been plunged into a freezing abyss.
But the moment passed, as if that piercing gaze had been nothing more than a dream.
For some reason, Ayame found herself thinking of a recent rumor: crimson eyes, an omen of death, a harbinger like the Night Owl.
"Ayame-san, maybe you shouldn't be so gentle," Kurumi said as she loosened her posture and turned to leave. "It's a dangerous world out there."
"Oh, by the way—Ayame-san, do you know where I might find a shooting range around here?"
"A shooting range? I can take you to one."
Kurumi was eager to try out the firearms of this world.
··
As the head family of Aragane Station, the Yomogawa family owned the best property in the area.
And as their only heiress, Ayame's personal residence even included a private shooting range.
Kurumi accepted the steam gun and portable boiler from a servant, turning it over in her hands with curiosity.
Steam guns fired lead bullets, which couldn't pierce the steel heart membrane of a Kabane from a distance and were generally only good for pushing them back.
Kurumi raised the steam rifle with one hand and aimed at the heavy armored target.
"Miss Tokisaki, the recoil on a steam rifle is quite strong…" Ayame warned.
The young samurai standing behind Ayame let out a derisive snort. He'd seen plenty of strong-willed warriors who thought they could handle steam guns, only to end up dislocating their shoulders.
But as both Ayame and the samurai watched in shock, Kurumi calmly pulled the trigger.
"Lethal—Shot."
Bang!
Kurumi's hand was impossibly steady, holding the gun as if it had no recoil at all.
The rifle barely kicked up before she adjusted it back into position.
But it wasn't her steady hand that shocked them. While a delicate young woman with superhuman strength was surprising, they'd already witnessed Kurumi's prowess at the station.
The samurai behind Ayame—named Ikoma—stood transfixed by the speed of the bullet Kurumi had just fired. It was impossibly fast and had punched a hole the size of a bowl right through the armored target.
"Good, looks like I can still use my skills." Kurumi placed the rifle down thoughtfully. "This way, I won't have to touch those revolting things."
"I'll find an opportunity to test out if Zafkiel works, too."
··
"Hmm, Ayame-san, I'm off to take a stroll," Kurumi murmured through a yawn, brushing past Ikoma as she sauntered out.
Once she was out of sight, Ikoma hurried to pick up the rifle Kurumi had left behind.
With methodical precision, he loaded a bullet, adjusted the airflow, and took aim.
The recoil shook his shoulder, his hands bracing the rifle in a textbook shooting stance.
The lead bullet struck another target nearby, leaving a blackened mark and a small dent in the armored plate.
"How… is that possible?"
The difference was beyond comprehension, like some kind of impossible sorcery.
——
A few days later, Kenshou Yomogawa himself came to see Kurumi.
The young lady's refined manners and composure were even gentler than Ayame's, causing Kenshou to suspect she was some noblewoman from the shogunate. Though he couldn't think of any major Tokisaki family, he figured it might be an alias.
Satisfied, he handed Ayame a small steam pistol.
"Ayame, my steam pistol's been giving me trouble. When you have a moment, take it to the engineers for repairs."
With that, Kenshou turned to leave, too busy with matters to even stay for a meal.
The Kabane waves were drawing closer, leaving him with an ever-growing list of concerns to manage.
Especially now that… Hayatani Station had officially fallen.
As the primary grain producer in the area, the loss of Hayatani Station would have sweeping consequences.
··
It was only a few days after Kurumi left that Hayatani Station was completely overrun by Kabane.
Blackened and searing, the carnage engulfed the city.
Kurumi was hardly surprised. The samurai there had been even worse than those in Aragane Station, too terrified to even draw their swords and relying on steam guns from a distance.
With Hayatani's fall, however, rumors began to spread even faster.
A death-bringing omen, a harbinger known as the Night Owl, had been spotted.
——
By this time, the Hayajiro, had long left Aragane Station.
The conductor, a kind man, had double-checked to confirm Kurumi was staying behind before they departed.
A skilled jack-of-all-trades, he was known for his knack with almost anything, from combat to photography.
··
On a clear morning, Kurumi yawned as she accompanied Ayame to the engineer's quarters to have her father's pistol repaired.
"Haven't they got servants to run errands like this?" Kurumi strolled lazily alongside Ayame.
"It's best to see to such things personally when possible," Ayame smiled gently.
Ikoma hadn't come along this time, which was probably for the best.
He seemed perpetually on edge around Kurumi, almost as if he thought she might steal his beloved mistress away.
Just as Ayame handed the gun to the chief engineer, voices from the entrance called out.
"Open the west gate!"
"The Koutetsujou has arrived!"
··
The Koutetsujou, expected tomorrow, had arrived early due to the fall of Hayatani Station.
Covered in blood and reeking of iron, the armored steam engine slowly entered the castle grounds and moved into the inspection bay.
"Miss Tokisaki had quite the reaction to this process last time," Ayame remarked with a chuckle as she stood beside Kurumi.
"Though, of course, inspections are essential for the safety of the station."
"Mmm," Kurumi mumbled absentmindedly, her gaze lingering at the end of the Koutetsujou.
There, a young girl in a pink kimono, much like Kurumi's arrival, was stepping off the rear platform.
The short kimono just barely covered her hips, revealing slender, shapely legs as she moved, the soft jingle of bells accompanying her steps.
As Kurumi took in the sight of those delicate, white legs, she suddenly recalled a vision from a dream, fleeting and distant.
With a bandage on his nose, the samurai wore a pained expression as he stared at the little girl who had just leapt down from the rear of the Koutetsujou.
Why was it his sector again?
The last time a "witch" had come off the rear of a train, he'd endured a world of trouble. Not only had he been beaten twice, but they'd also docked his wages for half a month. And now, another one was here.
Still, if he let her slip through, the consequences might be even worse.
"Hey! You, over there, the kid! The exit's on the other side!" He gripped his steam gun tightly, a nervous feeling rising within him.
The little girl in the kimono looked only around eleven or twelve. A yellow ribbon held her black hair in two short ponytails, her amber eyes gleaming brightly. A slender blue cord, almost like a collar, adorned her neck, and her pink kimono was cinched with a red sash.
Only her figure seemed too well-developed for her age, and her slender legs glistened with a moonlit sheen in the sunlight. She was playing with a kendama in her hand, looking every bit like an innocent child.
The samurai uncle breathed a sigh of relief. Not every girl off the train would be some kind of witch. But still, her fine attire meant he ought to speak respectfully.
Jingle, jingle.
The bells at her feet went silent as she stopped and turned to look at him.
"Even little kids have to be inspected!" He tried his best to force a smile, though it came out more as a grimace, his face scrunched up in a fierce-looking grin as he held his steam gun.
Thunk.
The kendama's ball hit him square on the nose, and he froze in pain.
The little girl spun the kendama around in circles, and it reminded him of that other "witch." His face immediately fell into a grim expression.
"When judging people, relying on appearances is the stupidest thing you can do." The girl toyed with the kendama in her hands. "That's what my brother told me, Mr. Beard~~"
The samurai's thoughts soured. I can't handle this! Why did they always come through his post?
"I..."
The samurai's face looked utterly defeated, as if he could already see half a month's wages slipping away.
"Enough; that person is my guest."
Kenshou Yomogawa, the head of the Yomogawa household, walked over, accompanied by Kurumi, who wore a serene smile, and Ayame, who looked as composed as ever.
"M-Master!" Relief flooded through the samurai at the sight of his savior.
"You're the head honcho here?" the girl asked, tilting her head up to look at Kenshou.
"I am Kenshou Yomogawa, the head of the Yomogawa family." He placed his right hand to his chest and gave a small bow to the girl.
"Lord Yomogawa, thank you for your hospitality," a tall, muscular man in a white robe and hood greeted him as he moved past the samurai to bow before Kenshou. A long staff wrapped in linen was in his hand, with a rubber hose extending from its end and disappearing into his robe, a weapon clearly enhanced by steam.
"Ah, Lord Shiwen."
The two men started a round of formal greetings.
Meanwhile, Kurumi leaned in close to the girl, smiling sweetly with her hands folded behind her back, peering down at her.
As her beautiful face came nearer, carrying a delicate fragrance, the girl shifted back, a hint of gold glinting under her bangs as she leaned away.
"Were you the one who wished for me?" Kurumi whispered softly, close to the girl's cheek.
"Huh??" The girl looked at her, stunned.
"Hmm, don't understand yet?" Kurumi straightened up, looking thoughtfully at the girl. When she had leaned closer just now, she'd felt a faint bond, almost like a contract.
No, it was more like the relationship between a deity who answers wishes and a person who offers them.
"Well then, could you tell me your name?"
The girl seemed dazed, as if still wrapped in the sweet, alluring scent.
"Ah... I'm Mumei," she replied with a little twirl, as if showing off.
"Nice, right? My big brother gave me that name."
"Mumei…" Kurumi murmured, rolling the alias over on her tongue. She felt a powerful intuition that Mumei's real name held significance, for both her and Mumei.
··
After Kenshou Yomogawa and Mumei's companion finished their conversation, they led the two of them to the residence in the heart of Aragane Station.
Kurumi followed with a smile, her gaze never leaving Mumei, which stirred a strange feeling in Ayame's chest.
It was almost like… Kurumi had found a new plaything.
But at that moment, a commotion broke out behind them.
It seemed that one of the ordinary passengers from the Koutetsujou had been found with an injury. Panicking, he broke free and ran.
Normally, they would have simply thrown him into a cell for observation for three days, and he would be released if there was no transformation. But this incident was now beyond such formalities.
The samurai closed in, ready to kill him on the spot, but a steam engineer rushed forward, shielding the injured man.
"Cowards!"
"If someone is suspected of being a Kabane, you detain them for three days to check, right? That's the rule you samurai put in place yourselves."
"Shut up!" one of the samurai yelled.
Thwack!
The gun's butt struck the engineer, and several soldiers began to beat him.
"Who are you to interfere, you lowly steam engineer?"
"Can't you see you've got your guns pointed at the wrong target?" the green-haired engineer growled.
··
Kenshou's face darkened as he watched the display in front of Lord Shiwen, the Shogun's emissary. It was an embarrassing sight for a station under his command.
Meanwhile, Mumei placed her hands behind her head, watching Kurumi with a curious smile as she tilted her head back to look up at her.
Kurumi's expression was gentle, but her wine-red eyes were utterly cold.
"Well? What do you think of all this?" Mumei asked, curious to see what this seemingly gentle person thought.
"Oh, Mumei was asking me?" Kurumi's stunning red eyes narrowed.
"You're just fishing for compliments," Mumei muttered, her geta clacking on the ground with each step, leaving scratches as sharp as metal on the stone. "Yes, yes, I'm asking you."
"They're all just trash," Kurumi replied, a chilling smile forming on her lips.
"Samurai who dare not draw their swords. Samurai who point their guns at civilians."
"Powerless fools who are all talk."
"They're all… simply trash."
Her soft, almost bewitching tone was laced with an icy edge, giving both the Yomogawa head and the Shogun's emissary a new impression of her.
··
The situation finally ended with a gunshot.
The injured civilian had tried to escape while the steam engineer was being beaten, but outrunning a gun was impossible.
Trying to flee from a heavily guarded place was a crime in itself.
Alongside the "overly righteous" engineer, he too was taken into custody.
"He's suspected of being a Kabane," Kenshou said, sentencing him to three days of confinement.
··
As things finally wrapped up, the bandaged samurai sighed with relief, thinking he was safe.
But just then…
"That incident just now happened in your sector," an annoyed superior glared at him.
"You're getting docked another half-month's pay."
··
Unlucky!
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