A heavy armored locomotive rumbled out of the garage. After adjusting the track direction, it skillfully coupled with the dozen or so carriages behind it.
At the entrance of every car, crowds of people were jammed together, clutching their luggage and scrambling to shove their way inside. The air was a never-ending cacophony of cursing, urgent shouting, and the wailing of small children.
"Lady Mika, do you need us to clear a path for you?"
The hundred or so people brought along by Misono Mika were in no rush to board. Instead, they turned their eyes toward her. The samurai among them stepped forward with rifles in hand; if Mika so much as nodded, they would use force to clear a wide, unobstructed path.
"Do you really think the Kabane pose any threat to me?"
Mika turned around, her voice serving as a sharp reminder. "Don't get your priorities mixed up. The ones who need to get onto the Hayajiro as quickly as possible aren't me—it's you. With so many people here, I can't guarantee everyone's safety with 100% certainty while trying not to catch others in the crossfire."
"Besides, I'm not your nanny. Escorting you was just a whim."
The gentleness in Mika's eyes vanished, replaced by a gaze as sharp as a drawn sword. "But do not dream of exploiting my kindness to achieve your own ends. If you cross my line... well, I believe you've seen firsthand what happened to those Kabane."
The crowd shuddered. The samurai who had been harboring hidden agendas turned pale with fright.
Earlier, a short-sighted soldier had actually fired a shot at Mika. Yet, the bullet—lethal to any human—had left nothing more than a smudge on her. Between her immense strength that could kick a Kabane hundreds of meters away, her terrifying firearm with seemingly infinite ammunition, and her own invincible defense, they knew the truth: if Mika decided to go on a killing spree, they couldn't stop her!
They were utterly terrified of provoking her.
"L-Lady Mika... no matter what, we wouldn't dare treat you that way..."
"Yes, exactly! Even if I had ten times the courage, I wouldn't dare have such overstepping thoughts! You must believe me!"
"Damn it! Who is the one hiding such evil intent? I'm telling you, don't let me catch you, or I'll throw you straight out to feed the Kabane!"
"I can't stand it either, count me in!"
The group began explaining themselves one after another, faces masks of panic.
"There's no need to be so afraid. You haven't done anything wrong; I'm just giving everyone a reminder."
Mika's gaze softened. A warm smile that put everyone at ease returned to her face. She said softly, "I'm not some monster. Why would I kill the innocent for no reason? Don't you agree?"
"Lady Mika is right! It's good to warn those pure-hearted bastards who thought they could exploit our savior!"
"On a side note," Mika added, "if you want to earn my help, you need to offer something in return. It's hardly fair for one side to give unilaterally without any reward, isn't it?"
Mika spread her hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "So, until you have a reason sufficient to convince me, I will not take the initiative to provide any form of assistance."
Stories of "a gram of rice creates a benefactor, a kilo of rice creates an enemy" were common. In reality, small favors often lead to gratitude, whereas once a constant stream of charity stops, the recipient grows resentful—even turning into a mortal foe.
Mika wasn't stupid enough to become a cautionary tale.
Good people often end up with guns pointed at them because others know the "good person" won't hurt them, whereas they know a "bad person" will surely retaliate. Thus, Mika intended to be a "bad person" in the broad sense—someone people wouldn't dare point a gun at.
Having finished her piece, Mika ignored the varying expressions on their faces and turned to leave. These people would relay her words to everyone on the Kotetsujo, saving her the trouble of others testing her limits later.
If things went smoothly, she wouldn't even have to strain her brain to invent a backstory. People would naturally "fill in the blanks" and solemnly inform others of the stories they'd imagined for her.
Mumei glanced back at the crowd, then trotted to catch up with Mika.
Along the way, those who hadn't seen Mika before wore shocked expressions. Some panicked and rushed into the Kotetsujo to report what they had seen to their superiors.
"What is it?" Mika asked, noticing Mumei looked like she wanted to say something. "If you have a question, just ask. Don't bottle things up."
"It's nothing much, really..."
Mumei looked up at her, hesitating for a moment before she couldn't help but ask, "What you said just now... does it mean that if someone wants your help in the future, they have to find a reason that convinces you?"
"It could also be a direct trade. As long as I'm willing, even a wooden stick picked up from the side of the road could be used for the exchange."
"...In other words, even if someone offers something priceless, it still depends on your own mood to decide if you're willing to help?"
"Of course. Because I don't want to be controlled by others, nor do I want to be morally blackmailed into doing things I don't want to do. I am who I am. As long as I don't agree, no one can force me."
Mika stopped and looked Mumei directly in the eyes. "Since I have the power to say 'no,' why would I choose to satisfy others at the expense of my own happiness?"
Mumei's eyes widened slightly. Having always followed Amatori Biba's orders without a hint of doubt, Mika's words struck her heart with significant impact.
Saying "no" to things one didn't want to do was something very few people could actually achieve. Mumei, however, hadn't even learned the basics of refusing others. After all, Amatori Biba only needed a literal pawn—not an unstable factor that would say "no" to him.
Mika patted Mumei's head without saying more. She looked toward the few people emerging from the Kotetsujo's control cabin.
'They're slower than I expected. Did they spend time gathering information about me from the survivors first?' Mika speculated internally.
Ayame Yomogawa was hurrying toward them, her guards in tow, her face a mask of tension.
Initially, Ayame hadn't believed the talk of a "Divine Messenger." When she heard reports of a girl who looked like a goddess taking a stroll nearby, her instinct was to dismiss it as someone playing tricks.
It wasn't until she saw Mika with her own eyes through a small window that her composure wavered. After gathering enough intelligence to ensure she wouldn't offend Mika, Ayame finally approached with a nervous heart.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Lady Mika," Ayame said cautiously.