After a variety of things happened, it had been some time—more precisely, about half a month since the incident at K Corp ended.
The world outside the bus was still lit by the streets of K Corp.
That's why you don't drive in a Nest. This damn traffic jam is seriously...
"Comparing the roads of a Nest and the Backstreets is difficult. In the Backstreets, if there had been a passable route, we could have raced through every alley and corner... But traveling somewhere by car inside a Nest usually means accepting an utterly horrendous traffic jam as part of the deal."
"So when you've got a bit of money jingling in your pocket, you end up taking a W Corp Warp Train and all that~"
A Warp Train, huh. That place was... well. No, I'd only ever ridden first class, so it didn't matter.
Still, every time I thought about trains, something felt off. There was definitely something there.
"Warp trains..."
But for some of the Sinners, it seemed like they had bad memories of them, and the mood turned briefly somber.
Don Quixote, maybe? Didn't she have a W Corp cleanup crew Identity? Wait, no way...
"I-I think... the bus is better..."
"I agree."
...Sinclair and then Mr. Meursault, one after the other.
Sinclair didn't have a W Corp Identity. Was I overthinking this?
Could Mirror technology really infer secrets like the Singularity? ...Actually, maybe it could.
What exactly had Yi Sang made?
"Might as well sleep easy like Heathcliff. Staring out the window is boring enough to kill me."
After saying that with a sigh, Ms. Rodion flopped into her seat and closed her eyes.
I should get some sleep too. The headache had eased a little over time, but it still wasn't gone.
Haa...
...How many days had passed after that? When I opened my eyes again, a quiet darkness was hanging inside the bus.
It wasn't exactly night; judging by the lamps outside, we were probably inside some tunnel.
In a place like this, the end usually connected to another district.
"We're almost there. Once we pass through this tunnel, the road will soon change course."
Ah, if I listened to Ms. Faust, that must be right. The number of passing vehicles was also steadily decreasing.
It still hadn't been revealed. I shouldn't expect that slightly unfriendly guide to tell us quickly.
That man was annoyingly prickly about useless things like this.
"Dante is asking about the destination."
Hmm. Judging by the tone, it sounded like he was asking whether they couldn't have just told us before departure, but either way, it didn't matter.
Sharp-eyed Mr. Vergilius would probably understand enough from that alone.
"This time's destination is... ah, our final destination is the Lobotomy Corporation branch located in U Corp."
"...!"
U Corp. The moment she heard that word, Ms. Ishmael, who had still been sitting beside me, jolted hard.
"Whoa, Ms. Ishmael, something wrong?"
"Ah... sorry."
U Corp, huh. That was where it was—by the sea, or more precisely, the Great Lake.
It had been years since I'd last been there, so my memory was fuzzy, but I couldn't forget that defining feature.
That place was... in a way, one of the most dreadful and most beautiful places in the City.
Come to think of it, Ms. Ishmael was from the Great Lake too.
...You must've had it rough.
"We are currently heading to a stopover."
As soon as Mr. Vergilius finished speaking, the bus emerged from the long tunnel...
"That is...!"
Along with Sinclair's voice, the view was suddenly filled with bright light.
And there it was: a beautiful stretch of sand and shoreline, something we hadn't seen anywhere on this trip so far...
It's been a while since I've seen this place too.
"Is that the, the Great Lake?!"
At Don Quixote's excited cry, the Sinners who had been lightly dozing in their seats began waking one by one.
First was one bug gentleman who'd been sleeping soundly in front of me.
"...Ha, how long has it been since I saw a sight like this?"
"So you've been here too, Gregor? I remember stopping by a few years ago myself."
"Oh my, so you two have been here before? I've only heard of it, never actually come..."
"Have you been here, Sinclair? If you've got the money, it seems like a perfect vacation spot."
"I, I haven't... yet..."
The Sinners, myself included, started chattering about the sea in their own ways.
Ah, correction. Everyone except Ms. Ishmael.
"N-no... wait... it's already... my turn...? I'm not... ready yet..."
...She doesn't look well.
"Ah, n-no. Um... just... a moment. I need to think about something..."
If the person beside you was reacting like that, I couldn't exactly enjoy myself carefree either.
Of course, most of the Sinners were still chatting away without caring much even if one person's mood had sunk.
I mean, one Sinner being depressed was a fairly common occurrence, and for most of them the Great Lake was a first, so it couldn't be helped.
"S-so then, are we going to the Great Lake?!"
"The Great Lake... I've only heard of it, never seen it in person... so this is what it looks like..."
"Oho... in the midst of our weary journey, it seems we shall finally have some water recreation!"
After Don Quixote's excited bluster, Hong Lu and the others began voicing what they wanted, one after another.
"Aha~ It might be a good experience to enjoy a vacation in a place like this."
"If I can rest, I'd like to lie on the warm sand and look up at the sky."
"Sunbathing on a long bench~"
"I would like to try beach volleyball with everyone!"
"Ha, that does sound fun."
...I didn't want to be the one to ruin the mood, but I doubted this would be a break.
What had the company done to us that they'd already be giving us a group vacation.
Besides me, a few of the less optimistic ones were looking toward Mr. Vergilius.
Though honestly, it looked like it was just Gregor and me.
"Hey, guide guy. We're really taking a rest...?"
To Gregor's question, Mr. Vergilius answered flatly.
"As if."
"I'm going to put the wheel in the ditch. Kreeeek."
Starting with Charon's words, the bus that had been driving smoothly suddenly veered off course, and the Sinners, as usual, rolled around inside the bus.
Not me, though. I saw this coming.
"Aaaah... what is this! An enemy ambush?!"
"No, we have simply arrived at the stopover."
So it wasn't a rest after all. Figures.
As the space around us abruptly changed, the bodies of the Sinners naturally lurched toward the window...
"Th-this is..."
"What in the world is this?!!!!"
The greenish light. In that gloomy, sticky space that looked at first glance like a pit full of filth and sludge—if you wanted to be generous, a place for processing scrap and junk—only the screams of the two Sinners who had been most eagerly looking forward to this bus ride echoed out.
Well, of course.
"Get off."
"Wait, Ver. This time you didn't tell us anything and—"
"No need for long explanations. You'll understand soon enough. I'll be following after you shortly as well."
We were all kicked out of the bus as though flung aside.
"This is absurd... You expect us to enjoy a vaca-tion in a place like this...?"
"Surprisingly, Don Quixote... that man Vergilius has never once said he was surprised."
"No... it's actually rather atmospheric. It's... nice."
Ms. Ryoshu really did have bizarre taste. There had to be at least some normal people among those who wanted to make art in the City.
...Wait, were there?
"Ah~ If it was going to be like this, why did you show us that pretty beach earlier~"
"Exactly... If we'd come here without knowing, we wouldn't have gotten our hopes up..."
Tsk, it was a little sad seeing those two like this. Maybe I should cheer them up a little.
"If you really want to go, why don't we come back together sometime?"
"Really?!"
"R-really?!"
"As long as the company work gets wrapped up properly. I'm practically dead except for having money, so if you don't believe me, write it down somewhere."
"Yay!"
...Tch, that's going to cost a fair bit. Honestly, I wasn't confident I could cover Ms. Rodion's food expenses.
Well, at most there'd be five or six of them, including the other Sinners over there whose eyes were already shining, so I guess one time wouldn't kill me.
"No! Right there in front of us is that sandy beach we just saw! Why aren't we going there? The air looks clean, and the weather seems wonderful!!"
"Because that's not today's destination."
"How could this be..."
Of course, one thing was one thing and another thing was another. Don Quixote, whose hopes had plummeted straight down after rising so high, slumped weakly to the ground.
"This place is..."
"District 21. The backstreets of U Corp... Ha... damn it, not yet."
"...Correct."
As the irritable Ms. Ishmael snatched away the answer, Ms. Faust calmly confirmed it.
...This is bad no matter how I look at it. Way too bad. Something's definitely about to blow up.
"That varies from Nest to Nest, and from Backstreet to Backstreet, so it's difficult to generalize. But in this case, yes, that would be accurate."
When Faust finished explaining, Hong Lu looked at the boundary over there and asked in wonder,
"Is the side over there a privately owned beach? The water too... it's a completely different color from the water on this side."
"Indeed. The boundary is as sharp as if it were cut with a blade. The places with this sort of feature are obvious..."
"Yes. This is..."
Just as Ms. Faust was about to speak again, Ms. Ishmael once more stepped in and stole the answer.
"The Great Lake. It's always been like this. Those peaceful spaces that are good for resting... are usually the territory of the Nest."
"My chance to explain keeps being stolen."
So she did care about that. I'd thought Faust was basically a deadpan Meursault clone unless it involved Mephistopheles.
"The Backstreets don't simply refer to alleys formed between buildings. They mean the entire expanse of territory not embraced by a Nest."
With Dante's answer, the question-and-answer session ended, and the bus's two action leaders began strolling along the dark green shoreline, satisfying their curiosity one thing at a time.
"Well, anyone can tell this is the Backstreets if it's full of trash like this."
"Oho! Look at this, something that looks usable..."
Clunk.
"....."
"What, why did you stop talking?"
"...It moved."
"What moved?"
At Heathcliff's question, Don Quixote looked extremely startled and said in a flustered rush,
"This radio... it moved! Do the radios of District 21 have legs and walk about?"
"What... really? Gah?!"
At Heathcliff's cry, everyone turned toward a corner of the scrap heap, and there... a monster had appeared.
Greenish crabs carrying piles of trash and scrap on their backs... what is that. Crabs?
As green crabs with all manner of scrap on their shells surged toward us...
Kyaaa!
Suddenly, we were thrown into battle.
No, wait—what the hell is that?!