On the second day after Nicole, the boss, proudly welcomed her "good boy," Ignis received his very first assignment as an employee of the Cunning Hares.
"Get in the truck already." Nicole sat in the driver's seat, the seatbelt digging a deep line across her chest. "We've got several things to handle today."
"So, you can drive," Ignis said as he climbed into the cargo compartment at the back.
"Billy's off doing repairs, and Anby's at the hospital for a checkup. So, of course I have to drive." Nicole spoke casually, already aware of how frighteningly sharp this giant's hearing was.
"Where are we going?" To make sure Nicole could hear him, Ignis activated his helmet's audio system—which caused the entire cargo hold to vibrate.
Not only did Nicole jump in shock, but even the stray cats nearby almost leapt out of their fur.
"Oh my god! You're not allowed to speak again. I'll tell you when we arrive."
Nicole angrily knocked on the rear wall of the cabin. "First, we're going to get your measurements and make you some clothes. You can't just wander around in that armor forever."
"No need. Taking this thing off requires an entire set of mechanical arms for assistance," Ignis replied. "Putting it on too—you need the arms to help tighten the bolts."
With a rumble from the engine, the truck started moving.
Clothes, huh.
Ignis thought about it. Ever since arriving in this war-torn universe, Ignis had been wearing his power armor almost constantly, only removing it briefly for maintenance and inspection.
After all, there was a reason why Astartes included being a monk in the job title—when you're not in armor, you wear a hooded robe-like garment.
If he needed to do some blacksmith work—like tuning his power armor—he'd wear an apron and long pants.
Ignis recalled the dressing styles of the Cunning Hares. Nicole's outfit was quite daring, showing off her graceful figure.
Billy wore a red leather jacket and fitted jeans with a studded belt, looking every bit the biker—probably influenced by his love of tokusatsu shows.
Anby's outfit seemed to be a kind of combat suit. The switch-like device on her back powered her blade, discharging energy with every slash.
The armlets on her arms and her sleeveless vest–miniskirt combo left little to the imagination.
Ignis wasn't unfamiliar with beauty. Among his battle companions, there had been plenty of beautiful, fierce women in the Adepta Sororitas and the Imperial Guard.
However, as a Space Marine, his reproductive system was permanently inert. He felt no impure thoughts—only a calm appreciation.
While he was lost in thought, Nicole abruptly slammed on the brakes. Moments later, the cargo door swung open.
This clearly wasn't within the city. From the surroundings, they were on the outskirts—far from order.
"Where are we?" Ignis asked, watching Nicole peek cautiously from behind the truck.
"The Black Market on Ash Street." After making sure there was no danger, Nicole stepped out. "Billy's been burning through ammo too quickly. We're here to resupply him."
She pulled out a pair of sunglasses from her case and slipped them on, then turned to give Ignis an assessing look from head to toe.
"Forget it. Since you can't take it off, you can be our Cunning Hares' walking billboard." Ms. Demara gave Ignis's massive leg armor a pat.
"Aren't you worried about drawing too much attention?" Ignis asked his new boss.
"What's it matter? In our line of work, you need a bit of fame or no one will hire you." Nicole strutted toward the market. "You want anything yourself?"
"Fuel. My flamethrower's out of fuel."
"Perfect. They sell fuel used by military mechs here."
Nicole seemed to enjoy the stares from vendors, gangsters, and other shady operators as they passed.
"This counts as an office expense. I can write it off."
The towering, three-meter-tall giant in power armor, fists larger than a human head, stood out sharply amid the crowd. People cast curious—and a few hostile—glances his way.
The hostility was aimed at Nicole, and that made Ignis alert.
"That damned woman thinks bringing a bodyguard means we won't collect her debt?"
Ignis caught their whispers clearly. His enhanced auditory systems worked perfectly.
"If you've got such balls, you go collect it yourself."
"Uh, nature calls. Be right back."
So that's the reason she brought me—to scare off debt collectors?
Ignis recalled Anby mentioning that the Cunning Hares' finances weren't exactly ideal. He hadn't expected actual debt.
Come to think of it, I also owe a debt to Phaethon too.
Great. Is my boss even reliable?
Just as Ignis's loyalty wavered, Nicole waved for him to stop.
They halted before a converted garage—big enough for even a giant like Ignis to fit through.
"Well, well, if it isn't Nicole, boss of the Cunning Hares!" A plump man with a wide grin waddled out. "Haven't seen you in days, and you're still as dazzling as ever."
"Do you flatter everyone this much, Fatty?" Nicole's tone didn't soften at all. "I've already heard—last time you sold out our position to the Weasel Gang."
Nicole pressed a slender finger against the man's nose. "We spent a lot of effort in the Hollow sorting that mess out. I think you owe me an explanation."
"My dear friend, that's not fair." The fat merchant's grin didn't falter, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "I've always admired successful intel brokers like you. So, I thought I'd take a page from your book and do a little business with the Weasel Gang myself."
"Is that so? Then I'll have to charge you an apprenticeship fee." Nicole turned to inspect the merchandise. "You've got quite a haul again, Fatty. New assault rifles, and those autocannons from the Defense Force tactical mechs?"
"Whatever you want, we'll give you the best price." The fat man's eyes darted over Ignis a few times before reluctantly returning to Nicole.
"Pistol rounds, same as before—the best you've got," Nicole said, walking straight in. "And propellant, high explosives, reloading press maintenance kits…"
As her list grew, sweat began to bead on the fat man's face.
"Oh, and Ether fuel—for Defense Force mechs' flamethrowers." Nicole returned to Ignis's side and gave his leg a pat. "Fill him up."
"No problem." The fat man forced a smile. "How about… fifty percent off?"
"You still dare ask me for money, you fat bastard?" Nicole's eyes sharpened dangerously. "You sold me out, and I haven't even made you pay for that yet. Believe me, I can call Public Security right now."
"You think I don't know about your smuggling routes in the Hollows? Or your Defense Force contacts?" Nicole's calm tone only made the fat man sweat harder.
Maybe others couldn't tell, but Ignis could hear her heartbeat hammering in her chest.
She really is a genius at bluffing—a truly cunning hare.
"But… but you can't expect me to give it all for free," the fat man stammered. His business depended entirely on the Weasel Gang. Nicole's presence here could only mean the Weasels had failed.
"Fine, you fat bastard. Thirty percent of the price." Nicole leaned casually against Ignis's leg. "What can I say? I'm just such a kind and generous person. Thirty percent should cover your costs."
"You… you… fine." The fat man's face twisted, but he eventually caved. "Just don't tell anyone you got this deal."
"No problem. Have your men stack the goods by the door—we'll move them ourselves." Nicole pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it over. "And don't get any funny ideas—like trying to rob us halfway."
"My new brother here isn't someone you want to mess with." Nicole gave Ignis's armor another pat.
"In the name of Vulkan—if you dare try anything underhanded, I will decimate you into a pile of pulp." Ignis obligingly flexed his armored fist, the Flamestorm Gauntlet gleaming menacingly.
"Of course, of course!" The fat man hurriedly made some calls, ordering his men to bring out the requested goods from the warehouse.
As a barrel of fuel was poured into the Flamestorm Gauntlet's tank and compressed oxygen filled its cylinders, Ignis's power armor systems confirmed that his flamethrower was back online.
"All right. Paid and done." Nicole checked the supplies and gestured for Ignis to carry them. "Let's move."
They hadn't walked far from the fat man's shop before Ignis sensed they were being followed.
"Boss…" He started to warn Nicole.
"Don't talk. Move faster. When we reach the truck, just drive—forget the door." Nicole was far more perceptive than he'd expected.
But their enemies were ready. By the time they returned, their truck was surrounded.
There were about thirty of them in total. Ignis counted quickly—their weapons were coil-wrapped steel forks, probably improvised electric prods.
"Well, well, Nicole of the Cunning Hares. When were you planning to pay me back? Or should I start charging interest?"
A short but stocky man approached, flanked by two towering thugs—each holding a sawed-off shotgun in one hand and a spiked bat in the other.
"Oh, if it isn't Kruger from the Weasel Gang," Nicole greeted him. "What's wrong? Regretting that Billy didn't blow your brains out back in the Hollow?"
"I'd watch your mouth if I were you. Maybe then my boys would go easy on you." Kruger sneered. "They haven't had a woman in a long time. They're pent up."
"I'm not one for violence," Ignis said as he carefully set his load down.
"I prefer to end it."
"What nonsense is that?" Kruger frowned. "I've got dozens of men here. You think you can take us all?"
"If you're willing to let us go now, I'll spare you. Otherwise…"
"Do you even hear yourself, you oversized freak?" Kruger shouted, face red with rage.
Before he could finish, Ignis charged forward. His massive right hand closed around Kruger in an instant.
The two bodyguards didn't even have time to react—their boss was already in the giant's grasp.
"Don't move. I might crush you by accident," Ignis warned calmly. "Last time, I did that to something called a Tyrfing in the Hollow."
He raised his left hand and fired the flamethrower skyward—whoosh!
"You don't want to end up crushed and charred, do you?" Ignis pulled Kruger close, opening his helmet's visor to reveal his glowing eyes.
"Let me go! Let me go and you can leave!" Kruger stammered, trembling before those fire-lit eyes.
"See? We can reach an understanding." Ignis nodded. "Have your men load the goods. I'll make sure you stay safe."
Under Kruger's orders—and Ignis's watchful gaze—the Weasel Gang members hauled all of Nicole's purchases onto the truck.
"Excellent. I think we'll make fine friends," Ignis said, climbing into the cargo bay. "Be a pal—close the door for me."
"Goodbye, friend!"
His booming voice shook the truck so hard it looked like it might fall apart.