Chapter 155 The Chief Crafter’s Cinematic Mecha Unveiling and Political Maneuvering
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
They barely had time to recover from the City Mayor’s shriek before the four Aarem pilots—the ones who owned them—kicked off a rehearsal, which also served as their planning meeting. I’d intended to handle the stage direction with my Golem crew, but the Merchant Guild Head brought along some folks he knew from a theater troupe, so he was handing the artistic side over to them. A specialist should handle the staging, but the scenario? That was on us. We had to figure out what was most important for the big reveal, right?
”Merchant Guild Head, Head of Judiciary… I need your advice, sirs.”
”Don’t you worry, I know what you’re fixin’ to ask. It’s all about the priorities for the announcement, ain’t it?” the Merchant Guild Head drawled.
”The top priority is establishing relations with the Empire, but that only works as a surprise finale to give it maximum impact. Yet the Aarem tech itself is already a huge shocker. We gotta hit ’em with a smaller shock before the Aarem to soften the blow,” I explained, feeling relieved they caught my drift.
They were super helpful in understanding what I meant, but the problem was, I didn’t have a good solution either. The Aarem tech is totally unique, not just in this ‘World Wind’ but globally. It’s exactly what the City Mayor said: something that shattered convention. A reveal like that is gonna be a massive, explosive deal for the citizens of this city, especially since they work so closely with Crafters.
Maybe I should talk about this arena’s other purpose first?
”Speaking of which, we’re installing that Household Mana Reactor in this building, aren’t we?” the Head of Judiciary inquired.
”Tatara-lad, what’s this Household Mana Reactor you’re talkin’ about?” the Merchant Guild Head asked, confused. The Head of Judiciary had seen it, but the Guild Head was new to the idea. I definitely needed to explain.
”Yes, the Head of Judiciary has seen it, but it’s new to you, Guild Head. It’s a small Mana Reactor I built. I plan to install it to make this facility somewhat independent,” I summarized.
”A small Mana Reactor… but you said ‘Household’. Can it really handle it?” the Merchant Guild Head questioned, his voice laced with doubt.
”It’s ‘Household’ only because of its size. For Mana capacity? It can hold a day’s worth of Mana for a thousand homes, and it can recover half that amount every minute,” I clarified.
”A thousand homes?!”
The Merchant Guild Head looked like he was staring into space as I explained. Honestly, if I hadn’t built it myself, I’d be making the same face.
”With this Mana Reactor, the arena becomes independent and can be used as an evacuation shelter in case of disaster. If we announce this before the Aarem reveal, I figure people will be a lot more accepting of the facility itself.”
Both leaders stroked their chins, pondering my idea. I’d really racked my brain for that one, so I hoped it would be taken well.
”We’ll need the Internal Affairs Chief’s permission, but I approve of designating this as a city evacuation site,” the Head of Judiciary declared, nodding.
”I’m with you on that, too, son. Having folks evacuate here before settin’ up temporary housing is a fine thing, I reckon,” the Merchant Guild Head agreed warmly.
Good. That was a relief.
”Now, moving on to the Aarem announcement…”
”That’s why I brought in the expert!” the Merchant Guild Head boomed, his voice getting louder in anticipation. A relatively well-dressed man stepped forward. He looked a bit like a noble but had a certain air of poverty about him. Maybe this was the vibe of an Artist?
”It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Halmart Hakansus, the Captain of the Hakansus Theater Troupe, and I have been entrusted with directing this event,” he greeted me with a theatrical bow.
”Pleased to meet you. I’m Tatara Julon,” I replied. I’m still just a student, so that was about all I could say. Though, maybe I should mention I built the arena? I don’t recall seeing him, but… did the Hakansus Troupe appear in the game I played?
”Tatara-lad, what’s wrong?” the Merchant Guild Head asked, noticing my pause.
”Ah, nothing… I just feel like I’ve heard of the Hakansus Troupe. Aren’t y’all a pretty old group, with some history?” I pondered, trying to recall my memories.
The Troupe Captain’s eyes went wide. “You know of us!?” he gasped, completely overreacting. Seriously, what kind of reaction is that?
”Uh… it’s barely a scrap of a memory, honestly. Were you the troupe with the Songstress, Reet Rava?”
The Troupe Captain’s eyes widened even further, while the Merchant Guild Head looked lost. The Head of Judiciary, however, watched the captain intently.
”How… how would you know that?” he stammered.
”Just a coincidence, I guess,” I mumbled.
Reet Rava was a major character, a romance option in the old game. The Hakansus Troupe that this captain leads was actually the troupe founded by the main character of that game, though it started as a circus. It was filled with eccentrics: Reet the songstress, a Beast Tamer Girl who was the main heroine, the best friend who played a Clown, and a former assassin skilled in knife throwing. The game was a Troupe Management Simulation, and its unnecessarily complex design made it so notoriously difficult that fans nicknamed the troupe ‘Hasan Death’—a pun on the name—because the heroines constantly ended up getting sold off to brothels. It was considered a piece of trash-tier work, even by the fanbase, having broken many hearts.
I played it, too, back in my previous life. I hit the ‘Game Over’ screen a million times for failing to meet the main story conditions, and I nearly went insane a few times when random events just straight-up destroyed the troupe. They did eventually release a patch to lower the difficulty because the parameters were so messed up, but I’m not sure I could have beaten it without it.
Yeah, I wasn’t forgetting this; I was sealing the memory away.
Now, about Reet Rava. She was actually a pretty important figure in this country’s history, or rather, the Hakansus Troupe was. Not because one of them married into the Royal Family, but because a song Reet Rava sang sealed a Demon Lord in a certain area, indirectly saving the country. The Demon Lord’s self-aware Mind—without its sealed body—became interested in the struggling troupe captain (the main character), fell in love, and helped separate its Mind from its body using Reet’s song and the Beast Tamer Girl’s special ability, setting up the destruction of the Demon Lord’s body. The one who finished the job was none other than His Majesty, the former Emperor and founding King of our current nation. It was written in the visual fanbook that if you got the bad ending where the heroines were sold off, the Demon Lord would be released and one-third of the country would be reduced to ash. Just imagine how many times ‘Hasan Death’ scorched this land.
And if that fanbook was right, the true canon ending of this world was the Harem End, including the Demon Lord’s Mind. That means the Troupe Captain right here is a descendant of the game’s protagonist.
Though, he clearly didn’t inherit the talent for running a thriving troupe and seems to be relying on past glories. They stopped being a circus, but no one mentioned that part.
”To think there’s someone who knows this troupe’s history…” the Captain marveled, tears almost welling up.
Well, it’s just game lore and past-life memory, but whatever. He’s super moved. Reet Rava’s name is in historical texts because of her connection to the Demon Lord’s defeat back in the Kingdom era before the Empire. Her songs are in the top ten of music history, considered divinely inspired art. Her name is famous, but the Hakansus Troupe itself is totally obscure—a bit sad, really.
(Side note: Because she was a talented singer, she had well-developed chest muscles, so she was flat-chested. The busty one was the former assassin knife-thrower. Apparently, they ‘bounced’ every time she threw a knife.)
”Look, that’s all fine, but can we talk about the staging now?” I cut in, eager to move on.
”Yes! Please entrust it to me!” he affirmed, radiating enthusiasm.
He seemed fired up, but I had my doubts. The game text suggested the protagonist had little talent for staging and only succeeded by having a good eye for other people’s talent. My worries were immediately confirmed.
His ideas were flashy—I get wanting a spectacular announcement—but indoor fireworks? That’s just stupid. He also kept trying to force his troupe’s performance into the schedule. This wasn’t a play; it was an Aarem unveiling. He was missing the point entirely.
The Merchant Guild Head gave a wry smile, probably thinking, ‘Ah, so that’s why they’re not making any money.’ But I actually needed one thing from this Captain.
”Excuse me, but could you please drop the troupe’s promotional elements for this event?” I intervened.
”Eh, ah… yes,” the Captain slumped, clearly dejected. Flashy stunts aren’t bad, but not when they ignore Time, Place, and Occasion or budget. Indoor fireworks? That’s risking burns and smoke inhalation. He’s making the exact same kind of dumb mistakes as the original game protagonist. It must be in the blood.
”However, Captain, I do need your cooperation for something else.”
”M-Me? You need me?” he sputtered.
”Yes, you. You have a great voice. Your pitch and intonation are excellent and very easy to listen to,” I complimented him.
”I need your mic performance. I need you to use the power of your voice to Charm everyone in the room with your words,” I requested.
The Captain looked suspicious, but the Merchant Guild Head nodded in understanding.
”Future Chief Crafter, what is this mic performance?” the Head of Judiciary inquired.
”I can show you. Merchant Guild Head, do you have yesterday’s recording?”
”Of course, I do!” the Guild Head replied with glee. He produced a recording crystal—not just audio, but video. Wow, you recorded that?
Acting Head of Family and Narikin-san, along with everyone else, gathered around, curious. The recording of my voice—my own mic performance—played back. It felt super weird to hear myself.
I could see how hard I’d tried to get the crowd hyped, but it was still amateur hour. The audience’s enthusiasm definitely carried me. Once the Regeneration finished, everyone stared at me.
”So, I need you to generate that kind of crowd heat,” I explained.
”Impossible, I say,” the Captain denied flatly.
”C’mon, I’m an amateur, and I pulled it off. A professional theater guy like you should handle it with ease,” I urged.
”Impossible, I say,” he repeated, still deadpan.
”Tatara, was this incitement based on something, perchance?” the City Mayor asked, using the word ‘incitement’. Ugh, can you pick a better word, City Mayor?
”No, not really. I just focused on getting the people around me involved through the energy of the moment,” I defended myself.
”I see. A natural-born agitator…” Narikin-san mused. Seriously, Narikin-san, that’s the term you’re going with?
”Master, you gave a speech to the Golems, too. Isn’t this your true specialty, right after Crafting?” Dahlia asked.
”Nah, that one actually had a source,” I answered. I couldn’t drop the Past Life talk since other people were here, but I figured Dahlia and the Acting Head of Family got the hint.
”Oh? You gave a speech?” the City Mayor pressed, intrigued.
”Right here,” Dahlia said, smoothly pulling out a new recording crystal. Why did you film that, Dahlia!?
The speech I gave in front of the arena played. Because it had a good source (Past Life lore), the finished product was unnecessarily high quality. The adults, including the City Mayor, grew serious as they listened. Yeah, that speech hits hard for people in positions of responsibility.
”That’s a rather good address, Julon,” Calmys-san admitted.
”No, no, that one has a source,” I reiterated.
”Oh? So someone before you inspired the adults to protect the future?” the Head of Judiciary observed, now interested that it was a quotation. Shoot, am I gonna have to explain the whole thing now?
”Tatara-lad, I reckon you should use that one instead of yesterday’s…” the Merchant Guild Head suggested.
”Yesterday’s was just a result of getting carried away,” I deflected.
”And you’re saying this is just getting carried away too, son?” the Acting Head of Family probed.
”Yeah, totally,” I insisted. The conversation was going nowhere.
”…Perhaps we should move the discussion along?” the Foreign Affairs Chief gently intervened. Thank you, man, seriously.
”Anyway, my performance will only ever be amateur work, and all I can do is ride the mood. I don’t have the experience to pull off a proper show like professional playwrights. We’re better off leaving it to the pros,” I concluded.
”Impossible, I say,” the Captain insisted for the third time.
”Captain, you gotta try a little harder, okay?” I pleaded. It was a job opportunity; he should be seizing it.
”T-Then, Tatara Julon-san! Show us the staging you have in mind! That way, we’ll know if my troupe is needed!” he proposed defensively.
”Ah, okay.”
He has the bad qualities of both the Past Life protagonist and one of the heroines—the protagonist’s tendency to dump responsibility on others and the heroine’s lack of confidence. If he’s pushing me, I’ll just have to show him what’s in my head.
I started by placing the Aarems of Narikin-san, the Head of Judiciary, and the Merchant Guild Head back-to-back in the center of the battlefield. I dimmed the house lights and had three spotlights all focus on the host. And then, problem one: the spotlights weren’t aiming where I wanted, and there weren’t enough of them. I hadn’t assigned numbers to the spotlights and cameras. So, I quickly numbered each one, created Magic Devices inscribed with ‘Night Vision’ and ‘Telepathy’ Spell Formulas, and gave them to the staff. With new instructions over Telepathy, it finally worked.
Since it was a rehearsal, I had the host say a few throwaway lines, then gesture towards the Aarems on the field for about a minute and a half. Following the cue, three lights hit them sequentially, making the Aarems emerge from the darkness. As the light hit, they struck a pose.
Narikin-san presented his greatsword in front of his face in a formal salute; the Merchant Guild Head tried the knight’s salute, raising a longsword with one hand. But since he didn’t have a weapon, he flubbed the pose.
We quickly had to craft a weapon. The Merchant Guild Head requested a spear, or rather, a Naginata¹-style katana. His skill was impressive; he spun it to avoid hitting the other two Aarems before settling into his pose.
After their introductions, just as they were about to turn and face each other for a mock battle, a distinctive whooshing sound cut through the air. We searched the area, but before we could figure out the source, the staging crew prematurely hit it with the lights, giving away that the unexpected aerial entry was actually part of the show. Ugh, they ruined the surprise.
It was hard to explain verbally that I wanted a camera move where it overshoots the target, then snaps back into focus. The crew looked confused, so I decided to demonstrate. I checked my Golem staff and had enough free for the camera and spotlight work, so I summoned them. My Golems immediately grasped my intention, sweeping the stage with a searchlight before overshooting Dahlia’s VTOL and snapping the focus back on it. The camera work—blurring and then sharply focusing—was filled with cinematic romance. The shot, displayed on the large monitors hanging from the ceiling, was awesome. The overshoot gave a sense of speed, and the focus pull added an eerie, unknown quality to the target.
The VTOL then lowered a box onto the field and flew away. In the concentrated spotlight, I remotely activated the ‘Detonation’ Spell Formula I’d rigged into the box. It exploded like a string of firecrackers, bottom-to-top, and the walls of the box fell away to reveal the Acting Head of Family’s ‘Great Crimson Flame’ Aarem sitting regally in the center.
”So, I was thinking the four of you could do a mock battle from here…” I trailed off.
Dahlia was staring at me with sparkling eyes, totally hooked on the medley of classic Mecha Anime tropes I’d thrown in. I knew she’d appreciate the cool factor.
Then, the Head of Judiciary grabbed my shoulder hard. It actually hurt.
”Chief Crafter, why the clear favoritism for the Torakuma² Family’s machine?” he ground out in a voice that seemed to rumble from the earth. See? I knew the aerial entrance was too cool.
”Hey, Shopkeeper. I feel like we’re getting the short end of the stick here, son,” the Merchant Guild Head grumbled. “Yeah, I reckon you need to balance out everyone’s moment a little better, Tatara-lad.”
Three complaints at once. It hurt. I wasn’t playing favorites; aerial entry is just the established trope for a dramatic sudden appearance in robot shows. But since they complained, I guess I have to ditch the airborne idea for the Great Crimson Flame.
”Even if she’s a state guest, making her the star here could give the Empire an upper hand in the Hizuru talks. We have to show we’re equals, so yes, balancing the visuals is essential,” the City Mayor ordered.
Now I was stuck. I had other ideas, but they all needed specific Gimmicks—like the Aarem rising from a hidden pool, or three flight machines combining in mid-air, or being launched from a catapult, or rising up a high-speed rail from the ground, or even having the floor of a battleship open to reveal it standing with its arms crossed… All of them needed changes to the actual arena field, which would take three hours.
”What about my Aarem joining in?” Dahlia suggested.
”Rejected. Your Aarem would definitely draw the wrong kind of attention,” I shot down immediately. The double-layered, aerial-maneuvering capabilities? It was too far ahead of the others. The Head of Judiciary would probably embarrass himself with some desperate plea, and I just couldn’t deal with that mental trauma. As the Merchant Guild Head and the others eyed Dahlia’s Aarem, I made sure to emphatically tell her not to bring it out. An airborne hanger, unlike the simple VTOL? Absolutely not.
I was cycling through every robot launching scene from my Past Life but they all required a special Gimmick. Even without changing the arena, it was tough to make a strong visual impact on entry.
”…Is an aerial entrance the only way to make a strong impression?” I wondered out loud.
”Tatara, you need to realize everyone around you is getting a bloodlust because you keep showing them these hypothetical scenarios with your Magic Device!” the City Mayor snapped.
I turned around. The Merchant Guild Head, the Head of Judiciary, and Narikin-san were all staring at me with bloodshot eyes. I wanted to pretend I didn’t see it.
”…My apologies for the eyesore.”
”That doesn’t even begin to cover it!” the three men converged on me. I was doomed.
”I want to make those scenes happen, too, but I can’t get it ready this time,” I tried to reason.
”But you built this whole facility in less than a day!?” the Merchant Guild Head exploded.
”You have to understand that this would require rebuilding the entire arena!” I protested.
I’d have to modify the very foundation, which was made of Mana Stone concrete, and I’d have to worry about scattering dust everywhere. It was doable, but an immense pain. They weren’t fully satisfied, but they at least understood the difficulty. I was relieved they didn’t press any further, but seeing their crestfallen looks still hurt my heart.
”Maybe I could build another arena someday, with a theme dedicated just to awesome entrance sequences,” I mused.
”That’s it, son!” the Merchant Guild Head cheered.
”Stop dreaming. We don’t have the land for that,” the City Mayor coldly shot down, utterly devoid of compassion or mercy.
”Tatara, I actually agree with the general plan to have an airborne, or airdrop, kind of entrance to make an impact,” the City Mayor confessed, to my surprise. I thought she was all about balance. I realized what she meant: balance didn’t mean not having cool launches, it meant every one of them needed to be equally cool. So, what if we filmed the launch sequences separately?
”I just had an idea,” I proposed.
They leaned in. I suggested using the Lift-Up and Catapult Launch concepts, but filming them as separate videos to be played on the ceiling monitors. Then, each Aarem would emerge from a different direction on the field at the right moment. The launch videos could also be used for promotion later on.
”—What do you think of that?”
”It’s not bad at all. In fact, it’s quite good,” the Head of Judiciary approved. The other two were also enthusiastic. Excellent.
”Alright, I’ll start making the props. Which launch sequence does each of you want?”
My question was too open, and they all shouted their requests at once, throwing me into a chaotic frenzy. We settled on rock-paper-scissors to decide the order, and I filmed their respective launch sequences in separate rooms. Once the video looked good and the image quality was corrected on the large monitor, the video was finished. Next, they started practicing the launch sequence: being ejected and then landing perfectly on the field. Narikin-san was the best operator, with the Head of Judiciary and Merchant Guild Head about equal.
Narikin-san nailed the landing on the first try. When I taught him the three-point, kneel-down landing, he mastered it in three attempts.
”Could I, perhaps, be a genius at Aarem operation?” Narikin-san asked, slightly embarrassed.
”I can’t deny it. I can’t operate mine that well either,” I admitted, giving him sincere praise. He genuinely was leagues ahead, maybe even on par with Dahlia, who had the Automated Maiden trait. Narikin-san blushed at my affirmation. His statement was bold, but his reaction showed he was still humble, which I appreciated.
Seeing this made me want to equip the Aarems with thrusters. A landing controlled by a burst of gas is just so cool.
Watching the practice, I had a sudden regret. I should have put a Mantle on the Head of Judiciary’s Aarem.
”Hmm, Future Chief Crafter. Is something about my Aarem catching your eye?”
”Oh, no, sir. Just watching it fly, I thought a mantle would look really cool,” I explained.
”I see…” The Head of Judiciary pondered, then took out a handkerchief and tied it to his Aarem’s left arm to hide it. When he launched it, the cloth fluttered dramatically in the air—it looked incredibly cool! It worked perfectly because his machine was a simple Knight type; the Merchant Guild Head’s ‘Genbu’ Model Armor had bulky shoulder pads, and Narikin-san’s Aarem was too chunky.
”Hmm… Future Chief Crafter, would you be able to craft a mantle and retake the footage?” he formally requested.
”Understood.”
”Use this handkerchief as the base material. I’d like it dyed red and our family crest embroidered on it,” he added.
”That’s fine, but… I don’t know the Head of Judiciary’s family crest,” I confessed.
He placed his hand on his forehead. “I completely forgot I hadn’t shown you… It’s this,” he said apologetically, pulling out a silver pocket watch from his Inventory. Engraved on the lid was a sword and shield overlaid on the head of a unicorn facing forward.
Wait, that looks like an emblem from a side-quest in ‘Beyond the Deep Darkness’… I remembered a noble family in the game whose parents and younger brother had died protecting the citizens a few years before the story began, and they bore this crest. I forced my expression not to twitch, trying to memorize the crest. My Past Life knowledge was imprinted on my soul, but I couldn’t cover every side character’s relative.
The side-quest was a simple fetch quest: a respected man came to an ordinary Smith asking for a sword and shield carved with his family crest to place at a gravesite. But the lustful Smith, being a jerk, wouldn’t deal with a rich, well-dressed man. So, the noble had his daughter proxy the request. This daughter, a fragile Beautiful Girl, only appeared for this one event. The Smith took the job, hoping to sleep with her. If you met the requirements, you could do it, which led to a bad end after the event. I always got the good end, where I never slept with her and was favored by her father as a regular customer. I even had to rely on a guide for the bad end.
(Side note: The thought of being assaulted and crying at the graves of my beloved grandfather and uncle was so vile that I actually cheered for the bad end in that case. That protagonist was truly disgusting, even if you had to pick a specific blend of sincerity and jerk moves to get that outcome.)
Shaking those thoughts off, I focused on the task. I dyed the handkerchief red and began sewing the crest onto it with silver Mithril Thread. I didn’t have the ‘Sewing’ Skill, but my ‘Crafting’ Skill was broad enough to cover it. Maybe if I level up my Sewing Skill later, I can stitch in more complex Spell Formulas. I might try that after graduation.
”…Tatara, you need to—” the City Mayor started.
”Sorry, City Mayor, but please wait until I’m done. I need to concentrate right now,” I interrupted. Focus is the foundation of a Crafter—a principle she herself taught me.
After sewing the crest, I replicated the decorative stitching around the edges with the Mithril Silver Thread. Then, I made the attachment point. To maintain the weight balance, I used the lightest material, Mithril, to attach the mantle to the left shoulder. It was a simple accessory, so the Aarem couldn’t use its left arm well while wearing it. In a real fight, the pilot would have to grab it with the right hand and tear it off. But an Aarem shedding its mantle? That’s pure romance. Making it an accessory meant it was intentionally restricting the full power, and ripping it off when getting serious would be the ultimate dramatic flair. The Head of Judiciary was so into it that he practically drooled.
This accessory would later become a popular standard piece of equipment known as the ‘Limiter Mantle’.
The retaken launch video left the Head of Judiciary fully satisfied. It was dramatic and ensured he stood out.
”Tatara-lad, you givin’ the Head of Judiciary that much special treatment, son?” the Merchant Guild Head griped, a hint of bitterness in his voice. Ugh, time to go back to work.
”Alright, I’ll give you two options, Merchant Guild Head,” I declared.
”Ooh, fancy, ain’t it?” he chirped, excited again.
Option one: ride a large, shield-like board. Option two: wear an additional armor-like attachment for a long-range assault. It was really just a device that used a light burst of gas for deceleration upon landing. Since his Aarem was based on my ‘Genbu’ Model Armor, it had hardpoints on the back and waist for easy attachment. I put compressed-gas thrusters on the waist for deceleration and deflection-nozzle boosters on the back. It made operating harder, but it was visually striking. We refilmed the launch, and the Merchant Guild Head started practicing his landing.
Now, I felt like I had to do something for Narikin-san.
”Excuse me, I know you’re practicing, but…”
”Oh, me too? I like the design of my machine as it is, so I don’t really need extra equipment,” Narikin-san declined politely.
He wanted his Aarem to remain as is. That gave me one idea.
”Could you try a high-difficulty acrobatic maneuver in mid-air?”
”I’m listening,” he replied, now motivated by the challenge. He’s surprisingly easy to read.
I pitched the idea of air surfing using his beloved greatsword. For that, I needed to install electromagnets in the soles of his Aarem’s feet, controllable via Mana. Narikin-san was totally on board, and we quickly installed the minor modifications. I asked him to try a ridiculously difficult sequence: eject, perform an aerial posture control, detach from the sword, mount the sword on his back, and then execute a perfect three-point landing. Even Narikin-san struggled with that one. He vowed to master it before the actual event, his face filled with determination. Hope he’s not neglecting his exploration!
We refilmed the launch. Now, all three Aarems had unique, individualized entrances. I let out a sigh of relief, thinking the work was done. Then, a hand clamped down on my shoulder from behind. I checked the owner—she was gripping me with surprising strength, a vein throbbing on her forehead. The City Mayor was smiling, but it was terrifying.
”Tatara, sit down,” she commanded in a low, terrifying growl.
”Yes!” I yelped, instantly dropping into the seiza position (formal Japanese kneeling) in less than a tenth of a second.
I was then subjected to an hour-long lecture, shrinking smaller and smaller the entire time.
Eventually, the day ended. We’d briefed the theater troupe on announcement instructions and live commentary, and the arena work was finished. It was dark outside; everyone had been working flat-out, forgetting the time, for the success of the event.
”We forgot lunch and have been on Aarem detail until this late…” I sighed.
”You say that, but you look pretty satisfied, don’t you?” the Acting Head of Family chuckled warmly.
”Didn’t you enjoy it, too, Dad?”
”Indeed. I cannot deny that in the least!” he admitted with a hearty laugh. We both laughed, and Dahlia followed a step behind, radiating an exasperated vibe. They asked me to come back to the arena tomorrow, but I was free. What should I do tomorrow?
Overcome by hunger, I bought a potato croquette and ate it on the walk home. It was bad manners, but when two men are starving, this is just natural law. I bought one for Dahlia as a bribe, and she took a small bite, realizing she was hungry, too. The creamy, rich potato was mixed with butter and cheese, hidden inside a crunchy, rough breading. It was piping hot, and we both huffed air out of our mouths to cool it down. The Acting Head of Family did the same. With a mouthful of croquette, we couldn’t burst out laughing, and we both struggled to swallow.
Full of cheer, we arrived home. The Acting Head of Family and I called out our return in unison.
”We’re home!”
”Welcome home, you two,” a voice replied.
My good mood froze instantly. Standing at the entrance to the living room was a single figure. The moment I saw her, Dahlia stepped in front of me, radiating killer intent.
It was Yohira Torakuma³, one of the companions I had a bad falling-out with, standing right there.
—
Omitted Aarem Debut Idea
Three launch sequences flashed across the ceiling monitor in a three-way split, filled with dramatic intensity. Immediately after, three colored smoke plumes rose in the arena. As the smoke cleared, three Aarems stood back-to-back. Then—“Imperial Guard, Present!”—their voices overlapped as they struck their individual poses. This legendary battle cry, brought to the world by Tatara’s Past Life knowledge, would later be mimicked by countless teams in battle competitions.
—
Summary:
The highly-anticipated Aarem unveiling rehearsal quickly turned into a chaotic clash between political necessity and cinematic spectacle. Crafter Tatara Julon was forced to take over the direction from the inept Halmart Hakansus (who is revealed to be a link to old Demon Lord lore). After being told off for showing favoritism to the Imperial machine with its cool aerial entrance, Tatara masterfully compromises by designing unique, dramatic launch sequences and personalized Aarem equipment—like the Head of Judiciary’s new Limiter Mantle. The day ends with a terrifying lecture from the City Mayor, only to be followed by the gut-punching, shocking return of Yohira Torakuma, a companion from Tatara’s fractured past.
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Character Insight:
Tatara Julon’s character strength lies not just in his Crafting talent but in his deep, pop-culture-fueled knowledge of dramatic staging. He uses the complex, political-tech of the Mana Reactor as a ‘softening’ element to smooth over the social shock of the Aarem reveal, showing an unexpectedly sharp understanding of public relations. Narikin-san, the humble merchant, is revealed to have an uncanny, almost genius-level talent for Aarem operation, hinting that his role is much bigger than a wealthy sponsor.
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Behind the Scene:
Tatara’s mind is a goldmine of robot anime and game tropes, which he secretly uses to create the most cinematic and memorable moments for his technology. The Limiter Mantle was a spur-of-the-moment idea born from his love of dramatic staging, which is destined to become a popular piece of Aarem equipment. The final scene’s arrival of Yohira Torakuma sets up the next major emotional conflict for the protagonist after a day of tense but ultimately fun technical rehearsals.
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T/L:
1 [Naginata: A traditional Japanese pole weapon with a curved blade at the end, similar to a halberd. The use of ‘Nagi-Katana’ here implies a weapon that is a hybrid or a variation of a Katana on a pole.] ↩
2 [Torakuma: A family name, often seen as ‘Tiger-Bear.’] ↩
3 [Yohira Torakuma: A previously introduced character, one of the main companions who had a falling-out with the protagonist.] ↩
Notes:
• Dahlia – The automaton.
• Calmys – War God’s knight, Mayor’s guard chief, whip-master hiding as a swordswoman; sharp tongue, big-sister vibe to Tatara, grants him and Ethelena church protection.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name. Oni warrior.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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