Rebuild world volume 2 p.., p.1
Rebuild World: Volume 2 Part 1, page 1
Table of Contents
Cover
Chapter 31: Reconnaissance
Chapter 32: The Higaraka Residential District Ruins
Chapter 33: Users of the Old Domain
Chapter 34: The Gluttonous Crocodile
Chapter 35: The Power of Proprietary Ammo
Chapter 36: The Price of a Wish
Chapter 37: Helping Out at the Temporary Base
Chapter 38: Yarata Scorpions
Chapter 39: A Job Addressed to Akira
Chapter 40: The Children of Checkpoint Fourteen
Chapter 41: A Difference in Skill
Chapter 42: Conflict Resolution
Chapter 43: The Swarm
Chapter 44: Balancing the Books
Chapter 45: Katsuya’s Frustration
Chapter 46: Recon Team Nine
Chapter 47: Elena’s Decision
Chapter 48: Surveying the Underground Labyrinth
Chapter 49: A Hunter’s Skill
Side Story: The Children Who Would Be Hunters
Illustrations
Bonus High Res Color Illustrations
About J-Novel Club
Copyright
Chapter 31: Reconnaissance
A boy from the slums set out to become a relic hunter, to claw his way up out of the back alleys. Then, in the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins, he found a new goal: he met a mysterious beauty and accepted her request to conquer a certain ruin of the Old World. But that job was currently beyond his ability. So he strove to grow stronger—to gear up, train relentlessly, and survive battle after deadly battle—all so he could see his task through to the end.
Now he was a full-fledged hunter, this child who had once left the slums with only the dingy clothes on his back and a pistol in his hand. Today he wore a powered suit, carried massive anti-monster rifles, and rode a desert motorcycle.
But the road to his ultimate destination still stretched far into the distance. He would need even greater power if he hoped to complete this first job he’d taken as a hunter and live the life he’d once dreamed of when he hid out in the back alleys. And so, he kept hunting, side by side with the enigmatic woman only he could see.
His name was Akira; hers, Alpha. Their career was only just beginning.
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Akira sped across the wasteland. His motorcycle automatically scouted for nearby enemies, thanks to the sensors he’d rented from the Hunter Office. It also recorded his route, scanning radius, and the numbers and species of monsters he encountered or killed. This data would determine how much he got paid for his current job—minus the rental fee and the cost of any repairs.
He was running this patrol solo, not bound for any particular destination. Working alone offered much greater liberty than joining one of the city-sponsored patrol trucks, as he had been doing recently. He could patrol wherever and whenever he chose. But the price of freedom was total personal responsibility, without even the modicum of safety that came from the municipal officials divvying up patrol areas to hunters according to their skill level. He could have brought a team along, but then he would be answerable for his companions’ well-being too. And because he wasn’t riding on a municipal truck, there was no official to curb his wilder instincts.
So he had to figure out how to strike the right balance between risk and reward. Patrolling danger zones swarming with powerful monsters would earn him extra pay, but a mistake could leave him facing a monster swarm on his own. If he kept to safe areas and just killed time, however, the equipment rental fee would leave him in the red. No one else was around to stop him if he cut and ran, or to get in his way if he got greedy and stuck it out—everything hinged on his decisions alone.
As a result, working alone came with far greater advantages and disadvantages than joining a patrol group. Akira did have Alpha to help him, and her support tipped the scales in his favor, but patrolling the wasteland on foot was still out of the question. With the motorcycle he’d earned for his last job, however, he could now make the most of his advantage.
If he spoke to Alpha out loud, the rented instruments would have recorded it as an interminable monologue. So as he worked, he talked to her telepathically instead.
I was worried about running into a whole pack of monsters, but we haven’t seen a single one. Kind of a letdown, honestly, he remarked. He felt bemused. After his recent experiences, he had half expected any journey through the wasteland to land him in the path of a ravening horde.
After the slaughter in that battle the other day, it’s a wonder there are any left, she replied cheerfully.
I guess you’re right.
But don’t worry that overhunting will leave you short of prey. The monster population will recover in no time, and then you’ll run into them as often as before, Alpha added, smiling.
Akira gave a grin that was less than enthusiastic. Glad to hear I’ll always have something to hunt as long as I’m strong enough to bring it down. Does that mean it’ll be peaceful around here for a little while? He paused, looking pensive for the first time in the conversation. Now that I think about it, where do all these monsters come from? I mean, hunters cull them periodically, but they still bounce back so fast we never run out of targets. It doesn’t add up.
Some ruin—either undiscovered or too well guarded to take over—must have a fabricator that’s pumping them out nonstop, Alpha said. As for whether they’re made locally or drifting to this region from somewhere else, your guess is as good as mine.
Well, that explains the robots, anyway.
And the animals too.
Akira started. Living monsters come from factories? he asked. They don’t breed?
That’s right. I mean, it’s not always easy to draw a hard line between manufacture and reproduction, but they’re definitely mass-produced.
With that, Alpha smugly launched into a detailed explanation, as much to show off her knowledge as to answer his question. Although all entities hostile to humans were currently labeled “monsters,” she explained, not all were harmful by design. Even beasts created as living weapons had originally been engineered to perform specific functions—indiscriminate killers were no use to anyone. And whatever a creature’s purpose—livestock, pet, guard animal, or bioweapon—its forgotten creators had usually controlled its gestation all the way down to the level of cell division. To maintain high standards of quality, Old World engineers had eliminated the randomness of natural mating.
They had even created machines with the power of self-replication—robots that were born rather than built. Given the necessary materials, such creatures multiplied like animals—but without accidental mutations. So these machines ended up with identical specifications, like goods off a production line, as long as there was someone to monitor them.
While the Old World factories stood, they would continue churning out their products—be they animal, robot, or something in between. And even destroying a factory would do nothing to halt the monsters it had already released. Some beasts also went feral and reproduced in the wasteland, growing ever more deadly in order to adapt to their harsh environment. Machine learning allowed robots to do likewise, deriving self-replication from self-repair.
The monster problem would threaten human territory if left unchecked, but it defied a permanent solution. And so, the ELGC did the next best thing—they sent hunters to exterminate hostile creatures and to explore and conquer the Old World ruins that produced them. Even Akira’s solo patrol job was part of the League’s far-reaching countermeasures.
No wonder there are always monsters around, Akira said, unsure whether he was more annoyed or impressed by the Old World after what he’d just heard. They’re made with the same ancient tech I keep hearing so much about, so of course they defy common sense.
But you’ve still taken down plenty of them, Alpha pointed out, hoping to raise his spirits. With a knowing grin, she added pointedly, I wonder who you have to thank for that.
I know, and I’m grateful. Akira chuckled.
Then show it by killing that thing without any help from me. Alpha pointed to a lone monster in the desert. This will double as a test of your current abilities.
On it.
The beast was a long way off, but Akira picked it out and drove straight for it. Once he had gotten a good look at his target, he stopped his motorcycle and dismounted, raising the output of his powered suit as he lifted his CWH anti-materiel rifle.
The large predator was full of the tenacious vitality needed to live in that harsh terrain. Its muscles bulged as its four powerful legs pounded the earth, propelling it across the wasteland at a speed that belied its bulk. Its thick fur, harder than most metals, could deflect bullets from the pistols so common in the slums—the beast wouldn’t so much as flinch. Even an AAH assault rifle would require sustained fire to bring it down.
But Akira had a CWH, more than powerful enough to kill the beast in a single shot—if he hit it. With Alpha’s support, he wouldn’t even have needed to stop. An ultra-precise shot as he sat atop his moving bike would have done the trick. But that wouldn’t be his own skill, and he knew it. So he dismounted and held his weapon steady.
Without his powered suit, he would have struggled even to lift the CWH. Thanks to the suit, he could raise and aim it, but he still lacked experience with both suit and gun. Centering the behemoth in his sights proved a challenge. Nevertheless, he did the best he could and pulled the trigger. His weapon roared, and a generic armor-piercing bullet tore through the air tow
But Akira’s best wasn’t good enough. His shot passed harmlessly by the beast, leaving it unfazed.
Disappointed, he took a deep breath, steeled himself, and trained his sights on the monster again. Gripping the rifle in both hands, he planted his feet firmly on the ground and braced himself to minimize the recoil. He grimly aimed and fired again. His second bullet also went wide—nearer the mark, but still not even grazing it. Another disappointment.
But moping would get him nowhere, he told himself as he steadied his breathing yet again. When he raised the rifle and stared down the sights this time, a blue line appeared, displaying his bullet’s predicted trajectory—Alpha’s support.
Didn’t she want him to do this without her help? He glanced in Alpha’s direction. Her smile told him he wasn’t ready to take out this monster all on his own yet. With the faintest of grimaces, he returned his attention to his target.
Akira had targeting assistance now, but his suit was still under his control, not Alpha’s. He strove to remain calm as he trained the blue line on a point between the creature’s eyes. His target was running toward him, its head lurching in all directions. He used his suit to stabilize his weapon, steadying the faintly wavering line as he took aim, focused, and waited. The moment his enemy’s head connected with the blue line, he squeezed the trigger.
The armor-piercing bullet sped through the air, its trajectory matching Alpha’s prediction almost perfectly. This time, he shot true. Fragments of the beast’s tough hide went flying, torn off by the projectile, but it didn’t bleed. He had only grazed it.
Close, but no cigar, Alpha chimed in.
Not even when I can see the trajectory, huh? Akira sighed. Looks like it’ll be a long time before I can land a shot like that on my own.
You’re also firing from fairly long range because it keeps you safer and makes for better training. Now focus—your target’s closing in.
Okay. Next shot.
Akira’s third bullet hadn’t frightened the monster off. The enraged brute continued its charge, faster and faster, radiating hatred and ravenous hunger. Akira watched it through his rifle sights and fired again and again, just as he had countless times against Alpha’s virtual targets. But this enemy was flesh and blood, and unless he finished it off first, his corpse would lie on the desert ground for real this time.
Like a voice growing louder in his ear, his mounting fear became more insistent and urgent with every missed shot. Jump on your bike and drive off, it said. Or ask Alpha for more support. But Akira held firm and smothered its cries. Calm and focused, he kept firing grimly.
Then—blam!—he scored a clean hit at last.
The armor-piercing bullet could punch holes in machines’ metal plating. It tore through the beast’s steellike coat, shredding the muscles that supported the creature’s bulk and smashing bones and organs as it carved a tunnel through the brute’s body and shot out the other side. Even that grievous wound wasn’t enough to kill the freakishly tough monster, but it slowed down. And as far as Akira was concerned, a slow monster was just a target.
He calmly, painstakingly aimed at his enemy’s head and fired again. This time, his bullet demolished its skull and scrambled the brain within, killing it instantly.
The monster had gotten closer to Akira than he would have liked, but all was well that ended well. Having confirmed the kill through his sights, he relaxed, lowered his rifle, and let out a long breath.
You did it! Alpha cheered. Not too shabby.
Yeah? Akira responded distantly, a slight frown on his face. He felt that Alpha’s praise was sincere, but he also knew he couldn’t have killed the beast without her help. So his joy was not unalloyed.
Well, ammo costs shouldn’t put us in the red, anyway. Right? he asked, trying to distract himself.
Probably not, Alpha agreed.
Good. Akira nodded and grinned to boost his own morale. For the moment, he told himself, he was doing well as long as he stayed in the black.
Akira was back on his patrol route, making small talk with Alpha, when a thought struck him.
Hey, remember how you said we’d be running patrols until I got my hunter rank high enough? he asked. How high are we aiming for, exactly? It went up to seventeen after that emergency job.
Around twenty should do, I think, Alpha replied.
Twenty, huh? What do I need it that high for?
Because then you can rent desert vehicles on much better terms.
Vehicles designed for the wasteland, Alpha went on, naturally boasted higher performance—and steeper price tags—than ordinary cars. Rental shops couldn’t turn a profit if rookie hunters kept driving off in their most expensive vehicles, never to be seen again, and insurance could only cover so much. So most businesses scaled their fees with hunter rank. Proven veterans paid less for rentals, while rank ten hunters might find it cheaper to buy a car outright. At rank twenty, a hunter could begin renting fairly impressive desert vehicles, with insurance, and still end up in the black.
But do I really need to rent a car? Akira asked. I mean, I’ve got my motorbike, and it’d be pricey either way. Couldn’t I just ride to other ruins on this?
No. Alpha shut him down. Your motorcycle doesn’t have much storage space for ammo. You’ll need to buy or rent a car, and cars built for the wasteland don’t come cheap, so you’ll have to rent for the foreseeable future. A car is also a better choice for hauling relics back from the ruins.
Makes sense, I guess. Still, could we swing by some ruin on my bike in the meantime? This thing can carry small relics like medicine.
No, not until you’re fully equipped for it. That means a car and, ideally, scanners. Other ruins can wait until you have those.
I dunno... Won’t that take a while? Akira’s curiosity about relic hunting beyond the Kuzusuhara Town Ruins, not to mention his dwindling supply of medicine, made him unusually persistent.
Alpha gave him a smile he knew all too well. Seeing that look dimmed his enthusiasm, and her next words snuffed it out completely.
As I believe I’ve mentioned before, my scouting abilities are most effective in Kuzusuhara Town. I won’t be able to detect threats with nearly the same precision in any other ruin.
Akira grimaced as he pictured what that drop in performance could lead to.
Scanners will do a lot to make up for my reduced capabilities, Alpha continued. Do you still want to visit other ruins with your current gear? If you insist, I won’t stop you, of course. If you really want to, let’s go! Right now!
Got it. Scratch that plan, Akira said quickly. He knew that at his current skill level, entering a ruin without Alpha’s guidance would be suicidal. Getting ambushed from all sides wasn’t his idea of fun. So I’ve gotta buy scanners and a car? And the CWH wasn’t cheap either. That twelve million aurum I made is sure going fast.
That’s hunting for you. Look at it this way: if working a ruin costs you more than you earn, then you’re not ready for it.
Akira considered. I guess you’re right.
There was no shortage of overconfident hunters who lost their lives in ruins beyond their ability. If Akira hadn’t met Alpha, he would have been one of them. Their encounter had been a strange twist of fate, and without it he wouldn’t be alive. He grinned wryly at the thought.
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Akira went on working patrol jobs, taking days off to recuperate in between his trips to the wasteland. One such rest day found him visiting Cartridge Freak to resupply on ammunition. Elena and Sara were already there, chatting with Shizuka, so he joined them after placing his order. The conversation turned to powered suits, and Akira was startled to learn that Elena didn’t use one.
“You mean you’ve only been wearing body armor?” he asked artlessly. “You must be a lot stronger than you look, then. All those scanners I saw you carrying seemed heavy.”
He had naturally assumed she wore a powered suit, given the sturdy straps she wore to support her various instruments. Her gear, he felt sure, weighed enough to crush him without one.
“That’s right, and she still calls herself delicate.” Sara laughed, amused at Akira’s reaction. “Kind of a tough sell, don’t you think?”
“Well, I, er...” Akira wavered, unsure whether it was safe to agree.
“I don’t want to hear that from someone who swings around an A4WM grenade launcher one-handed,” Elena retorted, miffed. “Do you have any idea how much that thing weighs fully loaded?”
