A monster that forgets that it breaks down when water enters the machinery dives into Lake Park.
Seeing such a sight, Mary lets out a deep sigh and rests her palm on her forehead, aiming her red-hot cane.
At the same time, aboard the monsters’ spaceship, peaceful and fulfilling days were rarely continuing.
Today is the first Setre, the day for the final report of the spaceship that happens once every 66 days.
It is the day when the high-ranking officials gather to summarize the achievements and peculiarities of each responsible area.
“Er, so… the Magical Girl Tiara who was originally in the United States was dispatched to the Black Area for a while and has now returned to her home country. Please prepare a transport space exclusively for large monsters of the size of a small spaceship. That is all.”
That’s from the transmission room official, Gate Keeper.
The place responsible for updating the Earth map is typically the transmission room.
It’s basic to know whether there is boiling lava or water puddles where the subordinates will be sent.
Understanding the changes in terrain due to climate change is primarily the duty of the transmission room’s monsters.
Though sometimes not as accurate as the weather forecast from Earth’s broadcasting station, about 85 percent of the time, it tends to be right.
“Is it my turn? Uh, the training room is all good. I just need to request some replacement of outdated equipment or introduce the latest devices considering various species.”
Next up is the training room.
The one speaking with a bland expression is the training room official, Shield Lion.
After reporting that there were no peculiarities, he glanced at the bundle of requests and suggested adding or replacing equipment—it was all straightforward.
Outside of the equipment repair or replacement duties, the training room tasks weren’t complicated.
As he finishes his report, the next monster speaks up.
“Yes, please compile and relay the race names of the combatants needing equipment along with any outdated equipment separately. And… now we will talk about our control room.”
That would be Asura, the head of the control room.
He becomes the busiest one when the day for the final report comes.
As he speaks, Asura expertly moves his eight arms, his gaze busily shifting across the papers held in each hand.
The commotion from Sun’s ship invasion, the reinstatement of the recovery room official, Medik Tenkl, the return of the monster development room official, Maker, and the future measures against the destruction of the Arctic outpost.
Besides these, there are the handling of directives from the rights investigation department, function checks, and maintenance of various ships.
“Currently, 73 percent of the entrance destroyed during the spaceship invasion incident has been repaired, and the outpost plan promoted by the headquarters last time was replaced with autonomy after countermeasures were devised. Additionally, I’ve requested some support from headquarters to replenish the dwindling number of combatants…”
“Ah… so basically, you’re saying there’s a hell of a lot to do?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, next is… the monster development room?”
After a barrage of peculiarities, other officials, weary from listening, casually summarize the information before passing the conversation to the next official.
Next is the monster development room, which hasn’t opened for business until recently due to what is known as the ‘Doppelganger Sun’ incident.
The head of the monster development room, Maker, had nothing particularly noteworthy to report.
He had returned recently after being sent back to headquarters due to the grievances of the combatants.
Even so, he cautiously offers his opinion.
“Uh, if there are no problems, I’d like to ask for permission to develop again…”
“There is a problem.”
“It’s still too early.”
“Let’s wait for about five Setres more.”
“….”
However, that cautious idea was unanimously dismissed by the other officials.
Because combatants who could not forget the memories of that day might throw a fit upon seeing the monster development room in operation.
Even though there were combatants at the bottom who already knew that Maker had returned, nothing was said since the monster development room hadn’t been reopened.
After all, he successfully received hefty development funding with an ambitious plan to replace simple labor with artificial monsters through the combatant incubator No. 52, which had earned high praise from headquarters.
Yet, the results of the trial operation were…
“Just recently, when we operated it unofficially, it caused quite a disaster.”
A horrific creature formed by the fusion of several monsters.
When Medik Tenkl mentions that event from not long ago, Maker loudly defends himself, brazenly claiming it was “inevitable.”
“Just a little, just a tiny bit more adjustment, and there’s enough potential!”
“…Even during the aftermath, we happened to receive help from ‘her.’”
But the reactions from the other officials were skeptical.
They had received numerous reports that the combatants sent to handle the horrific fusion creature had sought the assistance of Magical Girl Sun.
To the combatants, she had simultaneously become an image of terror and a friendly figure due to her high empathy in their lives.
She even sent a one-sided and considerate notice stating, “I won’t take the devices any longer, so please provide the return device normally.”
Her monster-friendly demeanor made one wonder if she had once been a symbol of fear.
“Is there, perhaps, any way to negotiate with her to join our side? Having a helper like that would relieve us of worries for life.”
With slight expectations, Maker glances sideways with a goofy expression.
The subject of his gaze is none other than Medik Tenkl.
Among the officials, he had conversed the most with Sun, which is why Maker’s gaze fell upon him.
“Even if she agrees to join our side, I doubt she would serve as your assistant.”
Medik Tenkl flatly states this while at least dismissing Maker’s optimism without much consideration.
“Did you not hear me say that I wouldn’t let you do unnecessary things just for your own benefit?”
As if responding to the absurdity of Maker’s words, Shield Lion chimes in.
Having carefully listened to testimonies from combatants who met Sun, he genuinely worried about her behavior of targeting none other than Maker.
“Well, for now, there’s no need for concern! She wouldn’t fly all the way here, after all.”
Yet, Maker dismisses the earnest concern of his comrade with a mere smile, feeling optimistic.
He had confidence that she wouldn’t fly here to the spaceship through space without the help of devices.
Hearing such complacency, Medik Tenkl quietly turned his gaze towards the space outside the spaceship, lost in thought.
‘I feel like it might be possible if she sets her mind to it.’
“Ahem, then let’s get back to business… Does the recovery room have any peculiarities?”
As Asura steadies the atmosphere that had loosened during other discussions, he moves on to the final recovery room report.
Though having returned to his duties fairly recently, besides the intensive care unit, the recovery room dealt with device checks and shared work with other departments, so he had nothing significant to report.
“Um. The intensive care unit is empty, and all the equipment in the recovery room is all fine.”
“Yes, then I will conclude the 18,827th final report writing meeting with this.”
With a few sentences from Asura ending the meeting, the officials, who had been tense, relaxed their postures, releasing all the strain from their shoulders.
As the heavy atmosphere of the meeting passed, a comfortable exchange among them began, similar to the slight relaxation they felt a moment ago.
“By the way, Tenkl… how’s the living situation at the medical facility on the headquarters spaceship? Is it as good as they say?”
At the inquiry about his life at headquarters, Medik Tenkl suddenly stiffens.
The topic of conversation among high-ranking officials now focuses on the life aboard the designated headquarters spaceship.
Though Maker was also on a headquarters ship, he had been engrossed in research and development, so there was nothing to listen to from him.
The headquarters ship, which solely houses remarkable monsters, naturally invokes curiosity, if not admiration.
“Well, don’t get me started, the directives from above are terrifying.”
However, the thought appears to be unnecessary, as the expression on his face becomes sour.
Opening up about something he faced, Medik Tenkl recalls a bad memory.
In surprise, Shield Lion’s eyes widen as he follows up with a question.
“That much, huh?”
“Can you give a few simple examples?”
With a puzzled expression, he makes a face of frustration and briefly shares a few examples with Medik Tenkl.
Returning to the experience of being a mere recovery room monster for the first time in a while was far from pleasant.
“Oh soldier… sorry for disturbing your sleep, but this isn’t working; what’s the problem?”
“You didn’t turn it on.”
That experience included a severe violation of rights… no, of monster rights, where even sleep time was not guaranteed.
“What was the password again?”
“Isn’t this the officer’s equipment?”
“I haven’t used it in so long that I don’t know; I’ll have to have a soldier format it.”
Head officials who couldn’t properly manage even the equipment they were supposed to use.
“Even so, keeping someone working continuously in an unheated place without providing a coat…”
“Hey, back in my day we did it all without clothes!”
“…….”
Even when
