"You're right," Noah mused. "They told us it was a one-year program, but we didn't even complete the full term."
"It's a woefully inadequate amount of time to learn everything one needs to know about Nikkes, Raptures, and the Ark itself," Rapi continued.
"So that's why the curriculum focuses so heavily on psychological conditioning."
"Precisely."
Noah thought back to his time at the academy. It was true; the majority of their training had been mental endurance tests and indoctrination. There had been very little practical training on combat, different Rapture types, or Nikke squad management.
"Sending commanders with no specialized knowledge and insufficient training to the front lines caused the mortality rate to skyrocket," Rapi explained, her voice devoid of emotion. "Instances of improper conduct towards Nikkes also became rampant."
"And the pay… if you don't succeed in a mission, you don't get paid?" Noah asked.
"That is correct. While the pay grade varies depending on the mission's difficulty, risking your life for money… it is a life no different from that of a mercenary."
Rapi's frankness was shedding light on the grim reality of his new position. Back when he was with the Task Force, Nikke commanders were hailed as heroes. He never imagined the dark truth hidden behind the public perception.
"This is where the great disconnect occurs," Rapi said. "The candidates who are selected or educated to become commanders begin to believe they are truly the elite. They are filled with confidence, thinking they are to be the saviors of humanity. But the reality they face is entirely different."
"A harsh reality where you have to risk your life for a meager wage and end up screaming at a clerk in an office," Noah murmured.
"Yes. Many commanders have been unable to endure it and have made… extreme choices."
"My God…"
"And yet, very few people know this truth. The Ark continues to prop them up as heroes, which, in turn, keeps the competition for an academy spot fierce."
Noah listened, finding it hard to believe the cruel circumstances so many of his fellow commanders were forced to endure.
He thought of the Mission Completion Certificate tucked away in the inner pocket of his uniform. Rapi had explained the grim details of that system to him before. Because the Ark's currency was digital, it was highly susceptible to hacking. The certificates were a physical countermeasure, paper vouchers that could be exchanged for cash. But the policy was bizarrely flawed; the exchange clerks rarely performed thorough identity checks. Anyone holding a certificate could redeem it.
This had led to a dark saying spreading among the commanders: 'A hero must beg from another hero, for the world of heroes must never leak to the outside. Only then will people maintain their fantasy and dream of becoming heroes themselves.'
The Central Government didn't want anyone to see their heroes begging. The life of a commander was a world apart from the fantasy. Noah was no exception. He, too, had thought of himself as a hero during his training, but losing Marian and facing death on numerous missions had shattered that illusion. If anything, he was one of the lucky ones. His prior combat experience against Raptures in the Task Force, coupled with his command abilities, was the only reason he was still alive.
.
.
.
As they were finishing up at the checkout, a commotion from a nearby coffee shop caught their attention. A Nikke was being viciously scolded by her human owner, the man's words sharp and cruel.
"Commander," Rapi said, noticing his gaze.
"Yeah?"
"We have purchased everything. We can return to the outpost now."
"Wait outside for me for a minute," Noah said.
The Nikke fled the shop in tears and hid in the alleyway behind the building. Noah went into the coffee shop to speak with the owner, while Rapi exited the store. She saw the crying Nikke and stood nearby, watching. A few moments later, Noah came out and approached the distraught girl.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently.
"S-Sir?" she sniffled.
"I saw what happened in there. He was saying some pretty harsh things."
"I… I burned the master's expensive coffee beans. That's why he was angry," she explained between sobs.
"I see." Noah's expression was soft with sympathy. "Don't cry. Just seeing you trying your best at your job is a wonderful thing."
"Me?"
"Of course. And your master… he doesn't seem like a bad person. I think he treats you well, doesn't he?"
"Yes, he's usually very kind to me, even though I'm a Nikke… He just suddenly got so angry…"
"I just spoke with him," Noah said. "He already regrets it. He said he got too worked up… it was a misunderstanding."
"So…?"
Noah gently patted her shoulder. "Keep your head up. It's because of the hard work you all do that we humans are able to live."
"Thank you…"
"Your master will be out to see you soon. Keep up the good work," Noah said with a final, encouraging smile.
The Nikke wiped her tears, her spirits visibly lifted. As Noah walked away, the owner did indeed come out and apologize to her. Rapi had witnessed the entire exchange.
.
.
.
On the way back to the outpost's elevator, Noah stopped at a bookstore to pick up the latest issues of a weapons magazine and a fashion magazine, things he knew Anis and Neon regularly enjoyed.
"Is there anything you need, Rapi?" he asked.
"There is not," she replied.
"Really?"
"Yes."
They left the bookstore, but Noah stopped and turned to look at her.
"You always say that, don't you?"
"Sir?" Rapi asked, tilting her head in confusion.