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Heavy Object (Light Novel) - Volume 13, Bonus Track (D.L. Sales Only): Over the Ragnarok
Volume 13, Bonus Track (D.L. Sales Only): Over the Ragnarok
This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml
The Wotan GEMCMB, prized weapon of the villains plotting within the Northern Restricted Zone, had been destroyed and the girl contained inside, Necleka Mojito, had been rescued. At first glance, that was a happy ending with no loose ends, but wasn’t that forgetting something?
Mike Nightcap of the Legitimacy Kingdom.
Recess Bloodhound of the Information Alliance.
Hayato Blackrose of the Capitalist Corporations.
Uver Derbyfizz of the Faith Organization.
…What had ultimately happened to the 4 villains who had caused the problem in the first place? They had hidden in the shadows of history using gaudy victories as distractions, and that meant having their decoy destroyed also meant they had won their own safety.
They were in a desert that could have been anywhere and looked nothing like a Scandinavian fjord. With a clear view to the horizon in every direction, a parasol stood from the sand, a table and chairs were prepared, tea and teacakes were laid out, and they elegantly held the following conversation:
“No matter what anyone does, history will not change. The Northern Restricted Zone is still divided by invisible lines, daily bombings and shellings tear into the people’s hearts, and children who will respond well to the special tuning we require will be naturally produced in great numbers. Our business shall continue.”
“What do you mean history will not change? Because we couldn’t wipe clean the suspicion, we might not have a place in the military any longer. I was directly named in that video. This is all because we panicked and sent out the Einherjar rabies molecular motors.”
“Suspicion is all it will be. This will not go to court. As always, any case will be thrown out due to insufficient evidence, but the reason will never be made public. This is why we have a thick human barrier of lawyers, remember?”
“Really? Instead of worrying about military promotion, I announced my honorable retirement and hid in the shadows. I installed a young figurehead to take my place. I’ve always thought that the greatest privilege is to be able to erase your very existence. Because that means to wholly abandon all responsibility.”
They would not have taken the risk of meeting directly if it was just to discuss this. Since they were here, they knew full well how to protect themselves and their immoral goings-on.
There was a single topic at hand.
“But we never did settle things with the Divided City of Valhalla. Or rather, with the children who escaped the Sacred Forest. We cannot allow that social experiment to leak outside the Northern Restricted Zone. Our world powers must remain mortal foes who constantly work to destroy each other.”
“Yes, every one of the foolish masses gets a vote. When you get down to it, the winner in a democracy is whoever brings the idiots to their side. Courting the intellectual minority will get you nowhere. To them, the soldiers of an enemy nation are monsters, demons, and cannibal beasts. Heh heh. They must not know we can join forces over common interests like we do.”
“Let’s pursue those children. But making a direct order now would be a bad idea. Everyone from the prosecutors to the paparazzi is watching things like a hawk. As usual, we can leave the unofficial missions to the terrorists in the cities.”
“So as always, we will be providing them with plenty of cash even though they don’t quite know why.”
Nothing changed.
The world did not change at all.
“Heh…heh heh.”
“Pff…ah ha ha.”
“Hah hah hah hah hah hah!!”
“Keh heh. Hee hee hee. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!”
Their laughter began quiet. It did not matter which of the 4 it came from. But it eventually infected them all, grew louder, and roared like they had breathed in some kind of gas. At this point, they could freely express their malice. No one could stop them. And so the 4 villains demonstrated their sinister “power” to the world.
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!”
Something happened immediately afterwards.
It may have been best if that instant had been turned to stop motion, recorded as a few dozen photographs, and flipped through like someone’s life flashing before their eyes.
Regardless, this is what happened:
A nearly 30-meter brain missile dropped right in the middle of their table.
A beautiful rose blossomed in the center of the desert.
And somewhere in the world, an aircraft radio signal was transmitted.
The background music contained a rhythm much like Boy Racer’s, but with the vocals performed by a clear girl’s voice.
“Ice Girl 1 to CT. External radar guidance of the Gungnir is complete. Strike check. The red targets are covered in their own shit. …And that was way too easy. I’m itching for some real action. Hey, idiots, I’ll race you BtB. Let’s fly along the river, keep low to the ground, and duck below all the bridges. Whoever’s last buys the rest dinner. Here we go!!”
“Oh, honestly! Do you have any idea who many months I spent on this!?”
A stubbly man crawled in the middle of the desert with a bazooka-like camera. He shouted up at the 4 contrails cutting through the blue sky overhead. He clicked his tongue when he heard the aircraft radio signal picked up by the government surplus communications equipment he had bought on the black market. He knew it was hopeless, but he used a backpack-like long-range radio to access an unregistered dark web satellite and send some digital data back to a safe country publisher.
“I finally captured the world’s malice. Isn’t this major news worthy of the front page tomorrow!?”
“Sorry, Sewax, but we’re a national paper, not a sleazy message board. We can’t publish gore pics of some fat old men and women.”
…The battlefield cameraman sighed as he realized that some people were just bringers of bad luck.
