“This is the one?”
Ji-ho asked, spinning the well-weighted kiseru pipe in her hand. “I’m impressed that it’s doing so much. You sure about this? All I did was replace an eye. It’s hardly a fair trade.” The client in question was happy to nod affirmatively, holding her newly repaired eye shut. “It’s not like I use it in a way that means a ton. One of those old things you have from a scuffle. You’re doing me a favor.” The pipe in question was one of some quality, but not particularly notable. Artifacts such as these were quite common for the people who’d spent time in the battles that took place after the dissolution of Bellona’s Fang, which felt like years ago now. High-quality items that belonged to high-ranking officials. Killed for the sole crime of being part of the ruling class and benefitting from the short couple of centuries of subjugation. What was it worth to those who’d killed such a person?
As Ji-ho played with her new toy and walked her client through the ins and outs of what they’d installed, Sunmi walked into the studio. Closing her plastic pink parasol and watching the vixen finish up her work. Taking the moment to admire how Ji-ho’s shop was so much like her. Put together in a way that conveyed only that she was capable and not very sociable. Retro and modern anime figures, with some vague suggestions of professionalism. Do’s and Don’t’s of HexCode injections. The most up-to-date warnings on device manufacturers, and of course, events that nearby Sen’i were doing. Discounts on certain implants or manufacturers as the days went on. Her studio wasn’t unlike a doctor’s office, and that was perhaps by design. The sort of doctor who might tell you not to drink, but recommend a good herbal cocktail that would stimulate your mind in a similar way, without impacting your body the same way. Or worse, in some cases.
“Sunmi,” said the fox. Seeing off her client who’d just taken off. “What’s up, lady? Do I have work?” The sheepie patissier smiled, wrapping her arms around Ji-ho with a lazy sort of softness. As if falling into the vixen’s embrace was like falling into a pile of warm bedding. Meeting her by casually returning the affections, Ji-ho sighed and looked at Sunmi, who was always the inciting incident to some nonsense of the day. Releasing the vixen, Sunmi smiled and nodded. Finding an empty seat, and digging into her sleeve to pull out her soft purple pen and drag a heavy plum of blue some from it. “Yeah, kinda. That girl who beat you has made swords cool again. Katanas specifically. So Haebae asked me to go get some slag, and when I asked her why I should go, she said because I could get anyone to help me! Sooo….Bang!” It was common knowledge that Sunmi was able to seduce most people, and Ji-ho more easily than most. Who was notorious for folding at the behest of the vanilla-scented sheep. This was certainly no different than any of those instances, even though she wanted it to be in her heart.
“So it’s just me that folds to you, huh? I see how it is.” Sunmi’s soft golden eyes glittered with tears as she laughed at the vixen, who was admittedly flattered to be picked. As she’d always been a customer of Sunmi’s long before Lamplight was the place of note in the forest that it is. “Well, no! I mean, I do like hanging out with you because I am fully aware of your vibe! It’s nice to know you’re a fan. But more than that, since I’m going for swords, I want the top sword girl!” Ji-ho’s cheeks grew hot and red as she tapped her hand softly on the patissier’s shoulder to signal her own leaving. “Kay, walk and talk ? Or show me the missive at least.”
The goal was simple enough for a duo, at least. Haerin wanted slag metal to meet the new demand for katanas. It was one of those things that Sunmi could have done on her own unquestionably, but she wanted company more than she wanted to be done quickly. Showing Ji-ho her phone, the message from Haerin was clear enough that anyone could understand.
‘Need 250 kg of metal. Slag is fine. But obvs the better you get, the better the product.’
A clear and direct call. As the pair continued to walk down the streets that took them out of the more residential places that Ji-ho called home, and into the forest in earnest. The streets of the Veldt were as populated as a warm spring day might allow. Your share of runners crashing into puddles from the rain of the night before. People sitting out in front of their apartment buildings playing video games while the sun was high and the weather was good. The mixed scents of beef, pork, chicken, sugar, fruit, and all other manner of stalls. If nothing else, the Veldt never hurt for good food. As Ji-ho took the bowl of ‘Biribiri Biryani’ she was offered, while Sunmi had opted for a few chicken skewers and a bubble tea. While the pair walked through the forest, making their way to the destination, a manufacturing plant that sat within the forest’s living range. “It’s not my favorite place,” Ji-ho said. Stuffing her face with chicken and rice while explaining her displeasure. “It’s one of those fabs with high-tier mats, but the ROI is low if you’re not walking through with some aid. Imaginary number generator or something. Which is what makes it good for slag. We should actually be done really fast.”
As the two patiently stood in anticipation for transport to arrive, Sunmi looked over to the vixen with some curiosity as she sipped on her bubble tea. “Do you think it’s weird that you lost that fight?” Sunmi asked, working away at her chicken skewers as Ji-ho messily angled meat and carbs into the hole on her face where food went. This behavior from someone the community saw as an immovable object and unstoppable force? Stunning, to be sure. But upon asking, she was satisfied with the answer she got. After all, she knew she would be. It was more about hearing Ji-ho say the words whilst squatting on a dilapidated bus stop. “I think it’s good and I think it’s weird. She won because she’s good, right? Shiki’s got the stuff to be a top bushika, no doubt. But like…Me losing also doesn’t mean anything. Not how the people on the bottom think. Wanna see?” After finishing her food, Ji-ho dug around her pocket and pulled out her deck, handing it over to Sunmi. On the screen was a tight list of the fights kept by both Forest Song and the maids over at Haerin’s place. While Sunmi was no genius on the tech side of things, she was shocked to see that Ji-ho had taken this extra step to make something she deemed largely pointless. At least, publicly.
“Why all the effort?” Sunmi asked as the bus came to a slow stop in front of the two. “Thought you didn’t care about the ranking stuff? And I mean…Yeah, I guess I kinda get your point.” Swiping around on the screen, it was clear what Ji-ho thought was important. As she boarded the bus, she couldn’t help but offer a smug sort of smile. “It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I only care about the parts that matter.” The two got on the bus, and Sunmi continued to read through the data as they started to move. “It’s not just wins and losses, sure. But what’s all this other stuff?”
“That?” Ji-ho asked. “Potential, Sunshine. If you can see it.”
The pair sat on the bus, and Sunmi looked at Ji-ho’s deck, which projected readouts of the top-ranked fighters in the zone. From the weakest to the strongest, and with all manner of minutiae that could only make sense to the top few percent of fighters, and only if they were focused on being the best sword practitioner. Mana-infused draws, kinetic reversal parries, hiltstomps. Things that only truly obsessive people would care about. To Ji-ho, this was worth more than anything they’d find on this outing. “It’s not that it doesn’t matter, right? It totally matters. It’s about how it matters. I want the best sword fighter. Not so much the person who won the most fights. And this is how I get that. Raw data and the occasional spar. Not that I have many people to consider.” The list was short. Shorter than Sunmi had assumed, honestly. This was the best twenty swords in the Veldt, and the ten best all-around martial artists. At the top of the swordsmanship category was Ji-ho, of course. The people after her who’d continue to rush towards the top of the boards were impressive, but not a single one of them had managed to do any of the secondary metrics at a rate that was acceptable to her. This seemed shocking to Sunmi, though, who’d been admittedly dismissive of how much Ji-ho cared about her position as a fighter.
“You’re really in it, huh?”
“My mom was literally a goddess of battle. Bellona can cosplay. I live this war god shit.”
“Hehe, and so what? You want the perfect opponent?”
“Nothing like that. I just want people who care. And if they care, they’ll meet me up here. See?”
The smaller metrics, the ones that navigated in fractions of a percentage, were steadily climbing. A slow but clear curve was showing in all of the people who stood in Ji-ho’s shadow. A curve that, to Sunmi’s credit, could not be readily pointed at by anyone else. It wasn’t that Ji-ho was seeking out anything, really. It was more so that by simply being who she was, she’d curated a sect within the Veldt. “It’s not that I’m working to undermine anyone. But this is common. Katana are cheap, light, and crazy good at their job. They have phases. I just wanna make sure that after each phase, they bushika who are coming out of it are good enough to keep up.”
Sunmi listened as Ji-ho explained what this was. Not a plan, not exactly. It was closer to an experiment. But an experiment that only seemed to add lethality to the soup. Though it was at least well within what people knew of Ji-ho.
As the bus reached the end of its line, the two stepped off and started the short walk to the EdsFore Fabrication Facility. The final stop on what felt like the strangest sidequest in a while.
“I hate this place,” Ji-ho said. Filling her kiseru and looking around the facility. “It reminds me of those old supermarkets I used to play in when I was a kid. Just the fuckin’ size of it…” The footfall of the pair echoed through the halls of the hollowed-out buildings. “Hello! And Welcome To The Eds-ssss—For—–AAAAAAAAbricatttt….F-F-F-Facility!” Chirped the robotic voice overhead. The duo moved through the lobby and started to go into the depths of the building they’d started in.
“Yeah, you’re not from here, right? Like, I guess I’m not either, but y’know.” Sunmi said, following playfully behind Ji-ho. Her brilliant golden eyes scanned the room and glanced through the offices they’d pass. Taking the moment to pick up things that she herself thought would be of use to her. Flasks, holo-decks, scissors, cute mugs, anything that could see new life under her at Lamplight. “Jiji,” Sunmi asked. Dropping baubles into her puffy cream-colored sweater’s sleeves. “I know you were on with the details, but I still don’t get it. Like…Why push so hard for martial prowess if you’re not running a school or anything?” The question itself seemed to stop Ji-ho in her tracks for a moment. Looking up to the open skeleton of an office ceiling, the vixen took a slow pull from her kiseru as she started up again. The hard plastic of her sneakers tapped against the unfinished wood floors. “Uhm…Because I can, I guess. I have all the time in reality, and all the skill under heaven. What good’s sitting on it?” Sunmi’s face softened at the premise of what she heard. “Yeah, suppose a godling might think that way.”
After some time wandering through dull hallways, the pair eventually exited the offices and conference rooms to finally reach the fabrication floor. “I guess I don’t really know you super well,” Sunmi said. Her heels clicked against the brushed concrete floor of the processing room. “Like, I know you were in the fighting pit teardown? But I don’t think I know you like that. Past your politic and all that.” Ji-ho nodded, again pulling on the kiseru and again stopping her stride. Though this time, it was to stand in awe of the might on display. The machine at the core of this facility had never stopped.
A vast churning lattice of machine and magic, the facility’s factory floor hummed along with the plans of a world that had long since passed. Building machines for a world that neither Ji-ho nor Sunmi had taken part in. “It was for synths, I think. What they were making before. It’s crazy that the place is still goin’ though.” Walking through the facility, Ji-ho’s eyes worked on the limbs that moved along. Mounted to nothing and held up by ancient spellwork that she only barely recognized. “I feel like those are gonna be good if I pull one,” mused the vixen. Eyeing the arms as they moved along endlessly. Unaged by the eons that seemed to float by long before she’d seen them, and would likely churn on long after she’d left. Her eyes narrowed, and she licked her chops. She knew those arms would make good swords. It was not hers to take, though. Not yet.
“You mentioned my politics?” Ji-ho said, listening to the whirling of machines and now of lone minds. “I guess if I had to say it in words? I don’t want anything to tell anyone to do anything, tell don’t wanna do. I think killing should be allowed for those who attempt to kill. And I think the strong have an obligation to nurture strength. Just like the wise have an obligation to nurture wisdom. I don’t think that’s political, though. I think that’s philosophy.”
“Sure, I get that,” Sunmi said, stepping behind Ji-ho by a stride or so. “I mean, that’s pretty much what any godling would land on,” the patissier said, pulling on her vape and filling their path with a soft blue smoke. “The anarcho-marxist framework, at least. The rest is maybe you being you? I mean, it looks like it’s just you being you.” As she sashayed, Sunmi’s stride was able to playfully navigate her path while never looking at it. “You say it’s cool to kill people who wanna kill, but also that people shouldn’t impose their will on each other. Watering hole rules, basically. I don’t super get how the second part comes up, though. That’s weirder.”
Ji-ho shrugged as Sunmi put better words to what the vixen had attempted to say. “It’s in the blood. Mom always said so.” Pulling on her kiseru as they moved on, the whirring of machinery fell into the background. The new soundscape became the soft and unyielding echo of the duo. Where before their footfall was lost in a carnival of still animated corpses of industry, now it was only them and the polished concrete floor. Whose brilliant luster was long lost to time. “But I mean, knowing me is wanting to fight me. We hang out enough that I hope you know we’re friends. You don’t need to jockey for position or answers. I’ll just tell you.” In that, Sunmi giggled. Not realizing that she was so easily read by the otherwise dimly lit fox. “I mean, sure. But I like being the cunning human alongside the rest of you. It’s kinda nifty. Despite my buffs.”
Sunmi’s words were not just hers, though. At least not in the typical sense. Ji-ho looked over her shoulder as she rose a brow and listened to this oddly centered read of her ideals in a more precise way. “Is that what everyone’s on?” Ji-ho asked, taking in the idea that people had found a niche for her. One that was uncertain and unclear. Much like the one her mother had taken in her time. At least, this was the thought she had. Though as she trudged on, so did Sunmi. All too happy to elaborate with the shaking of her head. “No, that’s my read. I don’t think that people, by and large, have a huge reason to figure you out. You shoot straight, so people trust you.” An explanation that she hadn’t faced, in fairness. So much of Ji-ho’s assessment was built on the equal footing principles of her youth. ‘Your opponent is always as smart as you. As fast as you. Knows everything you do.’ Ji-ho was certain this was the standard for her, and it had been for a while. Being faced with the idea that the Veldt’s denizens’ trust in Ji-ho was central to Sunmi’s understanding of the fox seemed to expand. Though in that, Ji-ho’s stride slowed somewhat. As such, Sunmi moved to take the point. Offering Ji-ho her backside to look upon as the pair moved further into the building.
“You talk a lot about me, but I guess that’s fair.” Ji-ho said, pulling on her kiseru and watching the sorceress saucily sashay onward. While Ji-ho’s stride was one of passive knowledge and frame-perfect adjustments, Sunmi had no step to adjust. The fallen debris, dilapidated office equipment, and loose wires seemed to disappear from Sunmi’s way. “But you’re not very big on sharing. Or rather, you don’t seem to offer up much. I guess, though, that’s not because you’re ducking me.” Sunmi giggled, turning on her heel to walk backwards as she continued to talk with Ji-ho. Her stride still unbothered by things that should have been in her way. “It’s just that I’m not cool,”said the patissier. “Good skills. Great skills, even! But largely not very fascinating in the past tense. Which is weird for a godling, I bet~!” And it was, in its way. As Ji-ho did not see the brilliance in her origins. Being a child to such forces of nature must have seemed grand to people like Sunmi and the Vedlt’s denizens. This nagging again that the humans in her light might not have understood her intent. As the sorceress continued, though, and Ji-ho watched as her soft golden eyes seemed to lock in on her in this moment, “Being a godling is a lot like being a rich kid, and you had good parents. But that doesn’t make you not a rich kid.”
Sunmi’s steps guided Ji-ho’s in their own gentle way. As their eyes locked, the pair finally reached their end goal. Those soft golden hues gazing lovingly into those of the royal-eyed fox. “The people in this place trust you to defend them. No one’s thinking about lore. They want data. You know, like the shit you keep in your book there.” Ji-ho looked down at the slate where she kept her date and sighed. Pulling on her kiseru as Sunmi turned to face forward.
Having reached the goal of their journey, a storage warehouse filled with various forms of old-world metals. Sheets, slabs, pipes, and all manner of various metals that met the criteria were called to the pair. Ji-ho sighed, pulling on her kiseru and exhaling a large cloud of deep maroon smoke into the massive chamber. A color that was accompanied by maroon flashes of light. Once the pair entered the chamber, the door behind them closed. Sunmi gasped, looking at the shuttering door behind her. “Oh! I didn’t know that was a thing that it did! I never come over here.” Ji-ho laughed, turning over the kiseru to empty it out. Twelve distinct shimmers of light fell from the pipe and dispersed once they’d hit the floor. “Damn, only chambered twelve? I thought I was really on this thing…”
ATTENTION UNAUTHORIZED PERSONAL
YOU ARE INTRUDING
PLEASE LEAVE AT ONCE
“Yeah, yeah. Sunmi, what position do you want?” the sheepie patissier smiled, rolling her shoulder and softly bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’ll be hammer if you be fang?” To which Ji-ho replied hazily, “I’m cool with that. You’ve never fought this thing, right? It’ll make sense once it’s built. Don’t stop it, though. I promise it’ll make sense.” Sunmi nodded, starting to stretch herself out as a sea of large drones swarmed the room. Flying to the center of the space, the drones began to rapidly print out their adversary. Ji-ho raised her foot and tapped the kiseru on the bottom of her shoe, making sure it was as empty as she feared. “Damn it all…” Sunmi looked on in awe and joy as the swarm started its construction.
A combination of hot steel, plastic filament, and masterful programming led to the sixty-two-second process where a massive autonomous multi-legged tank was assembled in front of them. As Sunmi bounced, she looked back to Ji-ho, who waved off the look. “I know, if we interrupt the build process, it just starts over.” The robotic tank whirred and spun as it finally completed. Flinging off chunks of hot metal and filament around the room. Ji-ho eyed the arms of the machine like she did every time she was here. Licking her chops, but knowing she had less of a chance than typical, given her weapon on this particular run.
“Sunny,” the vixen called. “You wanna figure it out, do you want some early tips?” The sorceress shook her head, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I think I get it. Are you gonna have enough slots? I wasn’t counting.” Ji-ho nodded, looking up at the drones, who sat idly by the sentry. “No, I…I think I got it.” The machine started to lumber towards the pair with all the passion of a robot following a line of code. Ji-ho laughed, tapping Sunmi on the shoulder before breaking off from her. “Okay, have at it. I’m not gonna tell ya no, that’s obvious. I’ll handle the ads.” In a blink of shadow, Ji-ho disappeared. Sunmi’s soft golden eyes opened enough to be seen as she looked up at the contraption. “Right…Big spider tank. I mean, I guess it’s what a corporation would do.” Taking a fully blinker hit from her vape, Sunmi took on her preferred stance.
“This should be easy!”