"If you put it that way, it would be ungrateful of me to refuse again. But this reminds me, I don't even know what round-wheat looks like," Fujimaru Ritsuka said, rather abruptly changing the subject. "I came to an agricultural planet, yet all I've seen are barren fields and giant piles of stalks... or maybe I just came at a bad time."
Alita, having grown up among farmlands, clearly didn't understand the appeal of what she considered an aesthetically monotonous "endless sea of wheat" to an outsider. Her tone was slightly bewildered. "But this is a harvest festival that's never been held before! I'd say there's no better time to be here."
Sevatar, listening nearby, wasn't in a position to comment on the topic. He was an Astartes, formerly of the Night Lords Legion, whose life should have been forever entwined with guns, warfare, bloodshed, and fear. All this peaceful, idyllic contentment surrounding him shouldn't have any connection to him beyond a passing glance. Even if fate had played a cruel joke, leading him to stand amidst the celebratory crowds after a decade of self-imposed exile, his overly prominent height among ordinary humans and his fierce, scarred features still made him seem utterly out of place.
This "out-of-place" quality made him highly conspicuous within the crowd, attracting constant, measuring glances of either curiosity or fear. As the former First Captain of the Night Lords, Sevatar was somewhat accustomed to being the focus of attention in a crowd, but the current situation still left him feeling irritable.
Unfortunately, the two girls who had dragged him out (in Sevatar's own opinion, at least) remained completely oblivious, focused only on huddling together and chattering away, leaving him alone and feeling awkward.
After a brief moment of thought, Fujimaru Ritsuka finally agreed with Alita. "...True, the first time always has special significance. But if this harvest festival becomes a regular holiday, it's bound to get bigger and better in the future."
"There don't seem to be any plans for that yet, but I'll take your well-wishes!" Alita said cheerfully.
Perhaps those struggling with endlessly repetitive, arduous work tend to be pessimistic, but Alita generally wouldn't pass up an opportunity to envision a beautiful future. The girl clasped her hands together, pretending to bow her head in prayer. "The God-Emperor above, if Governor Deville decides to make the harvest festival a fixed holiday, I hope it's once every growing cycle."
Having no pressing matters at hand, Ritsuka was happy to follow this light topic and let her thoughts wander. "If it could be held once a year, it might even become a specialty event and develop some tourism. Jastael's harvest season is around this time every year, right?"
"Huh? No, it's not?" Alita looked at Ritsuka, confused. "The harvest season changes every year."
Ritsuka was now bewildered by this statement. "Huh? But, wait, the crops—does round-wheat not have the same growth cycle every year?"
"How could that be? Round-wheat matures in a fixed five months. Two plantings and two harvests make up one full growing cycle, then we let the land lie fallow for a while to restore it and wait out the unsuitable climate period," Alita explained, counting on her fingers. "I've heard other agricultural worlds have technology to avoid weather effects, allowing crops to grow year-round. But Jastael isn't favored by the Mechanicus and rarely gets support in that area, so we still have to plant according to the phenology. Since we follow the phenology, of course we can't start work at the same time every year."
Fujimaru Ritsuka stood frozen in place, desperately trying to wrap her head around what Alita was saying. Unfortunately, the results were unsatisfactory, only succeeding in plastering a clear expression of "I don't understand" on her face.
"Wait, let me start over from the beginning... Jastael uses the Terran Standard Calendar, right? Twelve months a year, roughly thirty days a month, twenty-four hours a day..."
After watching what he perceived as the confused expression of a pampered young lady from Terra for a while, Sevatar finally took pity and explained: "Officially, yes, that's true. But that's only because Jastael's rotation period is very similar to Terra's, approximately twenty-four hours and seven seconds per rotation. So the initial settlers didn't think twice about simply adopting the Terran Standard Calendar, and it's been maintained as a tradition ever since. However, Jastael's orbital period is actually about four hundred and five days. If you solely used the Terran Standard Calendar to guide agricultural timing, the phenology wouldn't match up."
The facts were indeed facts, but understanding them still required some time. Fujimaru Ritsuka stood there, holding her head and thinking for about three minutes before finally straightening out the logic of the whole matter. She then looked up and asked blankly, "Isn't that troublesome? This is an agricultural planet that relies on the heavens! Has the local governor never considered creating a local calendar system?"
Sevatar, already accustomed to all this, shrugged indifferently, indicating that the Imperial ruling class was basically just this conservative and resistant to change. Alita, however, happily raised her hand, explaining that because the calendar and phenology didn't match, the planetary government issued agricultural guidance manuals every growing cycle to instruct workers on how to proceed: the manuals combined the actual seasonal phenology of Jastael with the dates of the Terran Standard Calendar, thereby creating a suitable schedule for the farming cycle.
"I can even calculate this 'farming calendar' myself!" Alita boasted, planting her hands on her hips proudly. "...Though not as fast as Jagob can."
Fujimaru Ritsuka sighed.
"Why would you choose to compete with him of all people when it comes to brains," she said to Alita, crossing her arms.
Sevatar, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow at this.
While it was indeed a fool's errand for an ordinary human to try and compete with a post-human who had undergone modification surgeries in mental calculation, the fact that she specifically brought this up, knowing full well that Sevatar was currently living under an assumed name and had laid down his arms, could—if one were to overinterpret it—be seen as containing a hint of threat.
If it were just that one sentence, it could be dismissed as a careless slip of the tongue by Fujimaru Ritsuka. But the sentence that followed was, logically speaking, even more outrageous: "If you really want to compete with him in something, why not try fighting him instead—you'd definitely win."
"Ah?" The look of confusion returned to Alita's face. "How could that be, Ritsuka? Just in terms of physique, Jagob is the biggest person I know—"
"Of course it seems that way, but is it really? Factors that decide a fight aren't just basic qualities like physique or strength," Fujimaru Ritsuka abruptly began spouting nonsense with a completely serious face. "If you confronted him head-on, of course you wouldn't win. But actually? Jagob would definitely be unwilling to seriously hurt you. I bet seeing you injured would hurt him more than cutting himself. By that logic, you've already 'won off the field'!"
This could be considered the truth, but Sevatar was certain he would never admit it.
Fujimaru Ritsuka managed to deliver these lines like a joke, and Alita obviously took it as one, listening with a giggle. But Sevatar felt—whether this was an ability inherited from his gene-father or a talent of his own, his feelings were rarely wrong—a strong sense of incongruity.
Fujimaru Ritsuka slowly winked one eye at him.
Sevatar had known this girl, who was still shrouded in mystery, for less than a day. They were hardly familiar, let alone had any tacit understanding. But somehow, as if blessed by a sudden stroke of insight, he successfully deciphered the message from that hint—a simple instruction that did not contradict his own intentions.
So he also nodded slowly. "Indeed. 'I'd rather take a knife myself than see Alita get hurt.'"
"Wow—" Alita turned to him in surprise. "Jagob, that doesn't sound like something you'd say."
"Hey, never mind how he talks, Alita, Alita," Ritsuka said, poking the other girl's arm. "I remember, you said you'd treat me to some round-wheat. Don't forget when we next meet."
Poked like this, Alita turned back, somewhat mystified. "Huh? Why bring that up so suddenly, Ritsuka, are you—"
Her sentence was cut off by a sudden, forceful shove from Fujimaru Ritsuka. The power unleashed from her thin, small frame was far greater than Alita had expected. Even though she appeared taller and stronger than Ritsuka, caught completely off guard, she was pushed backward by the shove, the strong impact and surprise nearly causing her to bite her tongue.
She instinctively tried to step back to regain her balance, but it was too late; this only hastened her loss of equilibrium—yet she did not fall, because Jagob was waiting right behind her, in the direction she was falling. The man's broad palm clamped down like an iron vise on one of her shoulders at the critical moment, using his own body to halt her downward momentum.
In this emergency, Alita's first reaction after being "saved" wasn't relief, but rather a feeling that something was digging uncomfortably into her back, near the shoulder he hadn't grabbed. But before she could even react, Jagob's other free hand firmly covered the lower half of her face.
She tried to ask, confused, only to find she couldn't make a sound, could barely even breathe. And then, the hand that had been gripping her shoulder let go. Jagob, with a rather practiced motion, wrapped his arm around her waist and, before she could even struggle, hoisted her up off the ground like a sack of grain. After a dizzying spin, they were in a dark alley by the roadside.
Alita had no idea what was happening, because Jagob immediately began sprinting at a speed almost unattainable for an unburdened human, rapidly putting distance between them and the scene.
The girl, untrained in any relevant skills, quickly lost consciousness under the torment of such speed, jostling, and difficulty breathing. The only clue she gleaned from the incident site was that just seconds after they turned and melted into the shadows, the cheerful noise of the festival behind them abruptly transformed into terrified screams.
—
During the three minutes Fujimaru Ritsuka had seemingly been lost in thought with a headache, she hadn't been pondering Jastael's calendar issues. She had figured that out immediately after Sevatar's explanation.
In reality, during those three minutes, she had paused and pretended to think solely because Konrad Curze had contacted her via telepathic communication through their契约 (qìyuē - contract) link:
+Those Aeldari.+
+So sudden? You scared me.+
+I can confirm those Aeldari have nothing to do with what's happening on this planet. They're simply here for you, big shot—by the way, one got away and is heading your direction. Estimated time until he finds you: six minutes.+
Curze's tone while stating this was quite self-righteous. Fujimaru Ritsuka had to try very hard to restrain the weight of her sigh.
+...The Aeldari webway gate shouldn't be opened near the city, and I don't believe you'd make the amateur mistake of letting an enemy escape. What are you trying to do now?+
+Making the most of available resources.+
He sounded like a mischievous child saying this, as if dismembering a nearby caught beetle for his own amusement, a naive malice hidden beneath a cheerful tone.
+What exactly can you find out mixing with the commoners? In an Imperial world, if there's a problem, investigating from the top down is the most efficient method. Before, you thought appearing before the Planetary Governor without reason might alert our prey. Now I've sent you a live excuse—don't waste it.+
+...Konrad, this is a crowded district! I have companions with me! Do you have any idea how much collateral damage this could cause?!+
+What does it matter? We are pressed for time, after all. A small amount of collateral damage is acceptable. In the Imperium, you must get used to such trade-offs.+
+...Perhaps you all enjoy working this way, but I have my own methods. We will discuss this later. And don't think I can't tell you're deliberately pushing me into these difficult situations!+
Fujimaru Ritsuka pressed her lips tightly together, using all her strength to prevent her angry expression from showing on her face.
+Just you watch. Not a single person in this city will come to harm because of this today!+