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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago

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Cars bricked by bankrupt EV company will stay bricked

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

There are few phrases in the modern lexicon more accursed than "software-based car," and yet, this is how the failed EV maker Fisker billed its products, which retailed for $40-70k in the few short years before the company collapsed, shut down its servers, and degraded all those "software-based cars":

https://insideevs.com/news/723669/fisker-inc-bankruptcy-chapter-11-official/

Fisker billed itself as a "capital light" manufacturer, meaning that it didn't particularly make anything – rather, it "designed" cars that other companies built, allowing Fisker to focus on "experience," which is where the "software-based car" comes in. Virtually every subsystem in a Fisker car needs (or rather, needed) to periodically connect with its servers, either for regular operations or diagnostics and repair, creating frequent problems with brakes, airbags, shifting, battery management, locking and unlocking the doors:

https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-worry-about-vehicles-working-bankruptcy-2024-4

Since Fisker's bankruptcy, people with even minor problems with their Fisker EVs have found themselves owning expensive, inert lumps of conflict minerals and auto-loan debt; as one Fisker owner described it, "It's literally a lawn ornament right now":

https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-describe-chaos-to-keep-cars-running-after-bankruptcy-2024-7

This is, in many ways, typical Internet-of-Shit nonsense, but it's compounded by Fisker's capital light, all-outsource model, which led to extremely unreliable vehicles that have been plagued by recalls. The bankrupt company has proposed that vehicle owners should have to pay cash for these recalls, in order to reserve the company's capital for its creditors – a plan that is clearly illegal:

https://www.veritaglobal.net/fisker/document/2411390241007000000000005

This isn't even the first time Fisker has done this! Ten years ago, founder Henrik Fisker started another EV company called Fisker Automotive, which went bankrupt in 2014, leaving the company's "Karma" (no, really) long-range EVs (which were unreliable and prone to bursting into flames) in limbo:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fisker_Karma

Which raises the question: why did investors reward Fisker's initial incompetence by piling in for a second attempt? I think the answer lies in the very factor that has made Fisker's failure so hard on its customers: the "software-based car." Investors love the sound of a "software-based car" because they understand that a gadget that is connected to the cloud is ripe for rent-extraction, because with software comes a bundle of "IP rights" that let the company control its customers, critics and competitors:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

A "software-based car" gets to mobilize the state to enforce its "IP," which allows it to force its customers to use authorized mechanics (who can, in turn, be price-gouged for licensing and diagnostic tools). "IP" can be used to shut down manufacturers of third party parts. "IP" allows manufacturers to revoke features that came with your car and charge you a monthly subscription fee for them. All sorts of features can be sold as downloadable content, and clawed back when title to the car changes hands, so that the new owners have to buy them again. "Software based cars" are easier to repo, making them perfect for the subprime auto-lending industry. And of course, "software-based cars" can gather much more surveillance data on drivers, which can be sold to sleazy, unregulated data-brokers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

Unsurprisingly, there's a large number of Fisker cars that never sold, which the bankruptcy estate is seeking a buyer for. For a minute there, it looked like they'd found one: American Lease, which was looking to acquire the deadstock Fiskers for use as leased fleet cars. But now that deal seems dead, because no one can figure out how to restart Fisker's servers, and these vehicles are bricks without server access:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/08/fisker-bankruptcy-hits-major-speed-bump-as-fleet-sale-is-now-in-question/

It's hard to say why the company's servers are so intransigent, but there's a clue in the chaotic way that the company wound down its affairs. The company's final days sound like a scene from the last days of the German Democratic Republic, with apparats from the failing state charging about in chaos, without any plans for keeping things running:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/03/07/east-germany-stasi-surveillance-documents/

As it imploded, Fisker cycled through a string of Chief Financial officers, losing track of millions of dollars at a time:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/05/31/fisker-collapse-investigation-ev-ocean-suv-henrik-geeta/

When Fisker's landlord regained possession of its HQ, they found "complete disarray," including improperly stored drums of toxic waste:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/05/fiskers-hq-abandoned-in-complete-disarray-with-apparent-hazardous-waste-clay-models-left-behind/

And while Fisker's implosion is particularly messy, the fact that it landed in bankruptcy is entirely unexceptional. Most businesses fail (eventually) and most startups fail (quickly). Despite this, businesses – even those in heavily regulated sectors like automotive regulation – are allowed to design products and undertake operations that are not designed to outlast the (likely short-lived) company.

After the 2008 crisis and the collapse of financial institutions like Lehman Brothers, finance regulators acquired a renewed interest in succession planning. Lehman consisted of over 6,000 separate corporate entities, each one representing a bid to evade regulation and/or taxation. Unwinding that complex hairball took years, during which the entities that entrusted Lehman with their funds – pensions, charitable institutions, etc – were unable to access their money.

To avoid repeats of this catastrophe, regulators began to insist that banks produce "living wills" – plans for unwinding their affairs in the event of catastrophe. They had to undertake "stress tests" that simulated a wind-down as planned, both to make sure the plan worked and to estimate how long it would take to execute. Then banks were required to set aside sufficient capital to keep the lights on while the plan ran on.

This regulation has been indifferently enforced. Banks spent the intervening years insisting that they are capable of prudently self-regulating without all this interference, something they continue to insist upon even after the Silicon Valley Bank collapse:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/15/mon-dieu-les-guillotines/#ceci-nes-pas-une-bailout

The fact that the rules haven't been enforced tells us nothing about whether the rules would work if they were enforced. A string of high-profile bankruptcies of companies who had no succession plans and whose collapse stands to materially harm large numbers of people tells us that something has to be done about this.

Take 23andme, the creepy genomics company that enticed millions of people into sending them their genetic material (even if you aren't a 23andme customer, they probably have most of your genome, thanks to relatives who sent in cheek-swabs). 23andme is now bankrupt, and its bankruptcy estate is shopping for a buyer who'd like to commercially exploit all that juicy genetic data, even if that is to the detriment of the people it came from. What's more, the bankruptcy estate is refusing to destroy samples from people who want to opt out of this future sale:

https://bourniquelaw.com/2024/10/09/data-23-and-me/

On a smaller scale, there's Juicebox, a company that makes EV chargers, who are exiting the North American market and shutting down their servers, killing the advanced functionality that customers paid extra for when they chose a Juicebox product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/10/2/24260316/juicebox-ev-chargers-enel-x-way-closing-discontinued-app

I actually owned a Juicebox, which ultimately caught fire and melted down, either due to a manufacturing defect or to the criminal ineptitude of Treeium, the worst solar installers in Southern California (or both):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/27/here-comes-the-sun-king/#sign-here

Projects like Juice Rescue are trying to reverse-engineer the Juicebox server infrastructure and build an alternative:

https://juice-rescue.org/

This would be much simpler if Juicebox's manufacturer, Enel X Way, had been required to file a living will that explained how its customers would go on enjoying their property when and if the company discontinued support, exited the market, or went bankrupt.

That might be a big lift for every little tech startup (though it would be superior than trying to get justice after the company fails). But in regulated sectors like automotive manufacture or genomic analysis, a regulation that says, "Either design your products and services to fail safely, or escrow enough cash to keep the lights on for the duration of an orderly wind-down in the event that you shut down" would be perfectly reasonable. Companies could make "software based cars" but the more "software based" the car was, the more funds they'd have to escrow to transition their servers when they shut down (and the lest capital they'd have to build the car).

Such a rule should be in addition to more muscular rules simply banning the most abusive practices, like the Oregon state Right to Repair bill, which bans the "parts pairing" that makes repairing a Fisker car so onerous:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/27/24097042/right-to-repair-law-oregon-sb1596-parts-pairing-tina-kotek-signed

Or the Illinois state biometric privacy law, which strictly limits the use of the kind of genomic data that 23andme collected:

https://www.ilga.gov/legislation/ilcs/ilcs3.asp?ActID=3004

Failing to take action on these abusive practices is dangerous – and not just to the people who get burned by them. Every time a genomics research project turns into a privacy nightmare, that salts the earth for future medical research, making it much harder to conduct population-scale research, which can be carried out in privacy-preserving ways, and which pays huge scientific dividends that we all benefit from:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/01/the-palantir-will-see-you-now/#public-private-partnership

Just as Fisker's outrageous ripoff will make life harder for good cleantech companies:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/26/unplanned-obsolescence/#better-micetraps

If people are convinced that new, climate-friendly tech is a cesspool of grift and extraction, it will punish those firms that are making routine, breathtaking, exciting (and extremely vital) breakthroughs:

https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/10/08/norways-national-football-stadium-has-the-worlds-largest-vertical-solar-roof-how-does-it-w

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/10/software-based-car/#based

#pluralistic #enshittification #evs #automotive #bricked #fisker #ocean #cleantech #iot #internet of shit #autoenshittification

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luxerians · 3 months ago

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The Last Mask (01)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 01 - An Invitation

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 02

In the dead of night, when most people were asleep, you found yourself running for your life. Your heart pounded violently as you sprinted through the poorly lit alleys. Every turn, every makeshift obstacle you created, failed to shake your pursuers. Their voices cut through the stillness:

“How long do you think you can keep this up?” one of them roared.

“You can’t hide forever, you bitch!” another spat, their words seething with anger.

You didn’t dare glance back. Fear propelled you forward, your mind singularly focused on escape. The narrow alleys, illuminated by flickering streetlights, offered little comfort. You weaved around piles of garbage and shoved a loose dumpster into their path, hoping to buy precious seconds.

But as you rounded a sharp corner, your heart sank. A loan shark was already there, standing in preparation. His eyes locked onto you, and before you could react, his hands gripped you with crushing force.

You screamed and fought to free yourself, but he slammed you to the ground. The rough concrete bit into your skin, and the acrid stench of the alley filled your nose. Panic surged as you writhed beneath his weight.

The others arrived moments later, their pounding footsteps signaling your doom. Their faces were shadows of fury and determination as they descended on you. Hands clamped around your arms and legs, pinning you in place despite your frantic attempts to break free. You kicked, clawed, and twisted, but their grip was unyielding.

“Stop struggling, or we’ll make this worse for you,” one growled, tightening his hold on your arm.

Pain flared through your limbs, but desperation kept you fighting. With one arm freed, you acted on instinct. Your hand dove into the pocket of your trench coat, fingers curling around the cold, heavy handle of the gun you had hidden there.

Shaking, you pulled it out and aimed blindly, squeezing the trigger.

The gunshot shattered the night, its sharp crack echoing off the brick walls. The men holding you jerked back, their grip loosening. You didn’t hesitate. You fired again. And again.

The loan sharks stumbled away in shock, their expressions frozen in disbelief. Some fell immediately, clutching at wounds, while others tried to flee. You kept firing, your trembling hands barely able to control the recoil. The alley became a chaotic blur of noise and motion until the gun’s chamber clicked, empty.

When the chaos subsided, the silence was deafening. You stood amidst the bodies, your chest heaving, your grip on the gun tight. Blood pooled around you, glistening in the faint light, mixing with the filth of the alley. The gun, once a tool of desperation, now felt unbearably heavy in your hands.

In the distance, the wail of sirens began to rise, faint but growing louder. The sound jolted you back to reality. There was no time to think, no time to process what you had done. You had to get out of there.

With a shaky breath, you forced your legs to move. One step, then another, until you were stumbling forward. Exhaustion clawed at you, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when you had a little sister to take care of. You had to keep running. You had to survive.

You managed to flee before the cops arrived. Once you were on the crowded streets of Myeongdong, you tried to act normal and blend in with the bustling crowd. The neon lights and chatter of street vendors offered some cover, but your heart still raced. You tucked the gun deeper into the pocket of your trench coat, making sure its outline wasn’t visible.

You spotted the entrance to the subway station and quickly descended the stairs. The air down there was damp and heavy, filled with the faint hum of trains in the distance. You stood against the tiled wall, and scanned your surroundings. Nobody seemed to be watching you. No signs of the loan sharks, no suspicious figures lurking nearby. For the first time in hours, you allowed yourself a small, shaky breath.

Minutes passed, and just as you started to relax, a presence appeared beside you. You flinched, your body going stiff as if a jolt of electricity had shot through you. Your eyes darted to the side, and you saw him. A man in a crisp, tailored suit. His hair was neatly combed, his shoes polished to a shine. He looked out of place in the dingy subway station, like he had just stepped out of a boardroom. But it wasn’t his appearance that unsettled you. It was his smile. Calm and knowing, as if he’d just uncovered a secret you thought was buried.

“I apologize for startling you,” he said, his voice smooth and measured. “Are you alright?”

You stared at him, your suspicion immediate. Why was this stranger talking to you? What did he want? You said nothing, your silence deliberate. His smile didn’t falter.

“You seem like someone who could use some help,” he continued. His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, a certainty that made you uneasy. “I have a proposition for you.”

Your shoulders tensed, but curiosity won over your hesitation. “What do you want?”

He reached into his pocket, and you stiffened, but all he pulled out was a square piece of folded red paper. It was a simple Ddakji tile.

“Ddakji game,” he said. “If you win, I’ll give you 10,000 won. If I win, I get to slap you, unless you can pay me 10,000 won. Simple, isn’t it?”

You blinked, taken aback. Of all the things he could have said, this was the last you expected. You wanted to laugh, to ask if he was joking, but his expression told you he wasn’t. The idea was ridiculous, but so was your situation. You were desperate.

“Why this all of a sudden?” you asked, though your resolve was already cracking. The man’s smile widened slightly.

“Because you need the money,” he said plainly, as if reading your thoughts. “And because I think you enjoy a little risk.”

He then pulled out a second one – a blue tile this time – from his pocket. He held the two of them up, waiting for your response. Your mind raced. You had no idea who this man was or why he was doing this, but he was right about one thing: you needed the money. And if losing meant nothing worse than a slap, it felt like a gamble worth taking.

You nodded. “Okay.”

The man nodded to the two tiles. “Choose one.”

You pressed your lips in a thin line before you took the blue tile. It felt heavier than it should. It felt like a proper Ddakji tile, not the D-I-Y one people usually made on a whim. Does he carry these everywhere?

He tossed the other tile onto the floor and stepped back.

“You go first,” he said, gesturing to the tile on the ground.

You crouched down, gripping the Ddakji tile tightly. You’d played this game as a kid, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Now, it felt like everything hinged on this one throw. Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand and slammed the tile down with all your strength.

But it wasn’t enough. The Ddakji tile on the floor barely moved, let alone flipped. You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment as the man’s smile widened.

“A pity. Looks like it’s my turn,” he said, stepping forward and picking up his red tile. From then on, you decided to call him Mr. Suit in your mind as it seemed fitting for someone so strange yet composed.

Mr. Suit crouched down and adjusted his stance before slamming his Ddakji tile onto the ground. The impact was sharp and precise, flipping the tile on the floor with ease. You braced yourself as he stood, stepping closer to you.

Your heartbeat quickened. You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the slap. But instead, you felt a light slap on your cheek. Surprised, you opened your eyes to see him grinning at you, his expression playful.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he asked teasingly. “I wouldn’t be rough on such a pretty face.”

Your cheeks instantly turned red. The compliment caught you off guard, a stark reminder of how long it had been since anyone had said something even remotely flattering to you. Years of overworking had left little room for anything else, let alone romantic experiences. You tried to shake off the flustered feeling, but it lingered.

“Let’s keep going,” he said, handing you your blue tile.

The game continued, and you focused hard on each throw, determined not to lose again. To your surprise, you managed to win a few rounds. With each victory, Mr. Suit handed over crisp bills, his demeanor as calm and collected as ever. By the time you’d played several rounds, you had earned a total of 70,000 won.

In the end, he handed you a card. The card was simple and it consisted of three different shapes with a phone number behind it.

“If you’re interested in more opportunities like this,” he said, “give it a call.”

You looked at the card, then back at him, unsure what to make of the situation. But before you could say anything, he tipped an imaginary hat, turned, and disappeared into the growing crowd, leaving you standing in the subway station in confusion.

You clutched the money and the card tightly, your mind racing with questions. Who was that man? And are there really other opportunities like that? Play a game and you get money? You thought.

You stared at the card for what felt like hours. Its plain design and embossed text had your full attention, though your mind was elsewhere. The same thoughts churned in your head during the train ride home, as you sat in silence with the card in your hand. Even when you finally made it back to your small apartment, you kept looking at it, the questions still swirling.

“Sis, you’re back!” a cheerful voice broke through your haze. Your twelve-year-old sister, Ji-yoo, came bounding into the room. She was all smiles, her hair tied into uneven pigtails. Despite the struggles you both faced, she always managed to stay positive.

“Oh, Ji-yoo,” you said, slipping the card into your pocket and forcing a smile. “How’s school today?”

“Today was fun!” she chirped, her grin widening. “I even learned a new game at school! It’s called Tuho. You’re good at it, right?”

You chuckled. “I do a little. Why?”

“Because I like it!” she said, dragging you toward the small dining table. “My friend showed me how it’s done and I thought it looks fun! Maybe you could teach me. Please?”

Her excitement was hard to resist. “Okay, I’ll teach you but first, help me take out the flowers in the plastic vase in my room. We don’t have a Tuho tong so that will do. For the arrows, we will use chopsticks.”

Ji-yoo’s eyes sparkled in excitement. “Okay!”

For the next hour, you taught her the basics of Tuho. Her laughter filled the room every time she failed to throw the chopsticks into the vase. For a little while, you forgot about the card and the stress weighing on your shoulders. Ji-yoo’s joy was infectious, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying the game.

When the evening grew late, you cooked dinner for the both of you, helped her with her homework and sent her to bed.

“Sis, are we going to visit mom and dad tomorrow?” she asked out of the blue as you pulled her blanket over her chest.

You smiled at her. “Yes, Ji-yoo. After your school, okay?”

Ji-yoo’s smile widened. “Okay! Good night, sis.”

“Sweet dreams, Ji-yoo.”

Once the apartment was quiet, the weight of reality returned. You sat on the edge of your bed and pulled the card out again. It felt heavier now, the simple embossed text almost daring you to act.

Was it really possible? Could you earn money just by playing games? The idea seemed absurd, but then again, so was the day you’d just had. You turned the card over in your hand, staring at the number like it might reveal some hidden secret.

The questions kept you awake long into the night, the card clutched tightly in your hand.

You decided to ignore the card for now. Life had to go on, and you couldn’t afford to be distracted. Your day after that evening returned to their usual grind – two part-time jobs and a constant, gnawing vigilance. You kept a close eye on your surroundings, scanning for any suspicious men. The image of the loan sharks still haunted you, and you knew they wouldn’t let the events in that alley slide. You had killed their men, and there would be consequences.

That late afternoon, you were standing outside Ji-yoo’s school, waiting as the last of the students spilled out into the crisp afternoon air. The playground buzzed with kids laughing and parents chatting. You spotted her instantly. Ji-yoo’s face lit up when she saw you, and she waved wildly, her tiny backpack bouncing with every step as she ran to you.

“Sis!” she yelled, crashing into your arms.

You hugged her. “How was school today?”

She pulled back, grinning. “We learned about space! Did you know Jupiter has sixty-seven moons?”

“Wow, sixty-seven?” you replied, feigning astonishment. “That’s so many, it’s like a whole moon party up there.”

Ji-yoo giggled, slipping her hand into yours as the two of you walked toward the bus stop. She chattered the entire way and you were grateful for it. It gave you something else to focus on, even if just for a moment.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight those days. Ji-yoo’s steps slowed as you neared the entrance, her grip on your hand tightening. She glanced up at you.

“Are they feeling better today?” she asked softly.

“We’ll see,” you said, squeezing her hand. “But they’ll be happy to see us, for sure.”

Inside, the air smelled of antiseptic and faintly of something floral, like someone had tried to mask the sterility with fake cheerfulness. You navigated the corridors with practiced ease, nodding at nurses you had come to recognize. When you reached their room, you hesitated for a heartbeat before pushing the door open.

Your dad was asleep, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. The sight of him so still sent a pang through you. Faint bruises marked his cheeks and jaw, their muted colors a haunting reminder of what he’d endured. He’d always been the strong one, the one who could fix anything. Now, he looked so fragile.

Your mom, on the other hand, was awake. Her face brightened the moment she saw you both, though faint bruises shadowed her cheekbones and forehead, the discoloration stark against her pale skin.

“Oh, my girls!” she exclaimed, holding out her arms.

Ji-yoo didn’t need to be told twice. She let go of your hand and rushed to her side, throwing her arms around her as carefully as she could.

“Mommy, look! I brought you a picture I drew in class,” Ji-yoo said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from her bag.

Your mom took it with a smile, studying the scribbled stars and planets. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. You’re going to be an artist one day.”

Ji-yoo beamed, settling into the chair beside her. You stayed back for a moment, letting them have their moment. Then your mom’s gaze shifted to you, her smile softening.

“Come here,” she said, patting the space beside her on the bed.

You sat down, careful not to disturb the IV line taped to her arm. She took your hand in hers, her fingers cool and fragile.

“How are you, really?” she asked, her voice low enough that Ji-yoo, now engrossed in pulling the white strands from your sleeping father, didn’t hear.

You knew exactly what she was asking. Her question was about everything. Your health, how your day went, and also about the debts. The loan sharks. The weight you’d been carrying alone.

“I’m okay,” you said, keeping your voice steady.

Her eyes searched yours, not quite believing you. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

“I’ve got it under control,” you lied, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You just focus on getting better. That’s what matters.”

“I know this treatment must be expensive,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “How are you going to pay this too?”

You hesitated, knowing she wasn’t wrong. “It’s not something you need to worry about, mom.”

Her grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Don’t lie to me. I know you’re struggling. With the bills, the loans… everything.”

You sighed. “I’m managing. It’s hard, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Figuring it out isn’t enough,” she pressed. “I don’t want you to do anything rash. No matter what, don’t sell your body.”

You nodded. “I know, mom. I could find money in many other ways than that. I just have to… work hard. It takes time. Right now, what matters is you and dad getting better. Don’t worry too much about me.”

She studied your face for a long moment before nodding slowly. The worry didn’t leave her eyes, but she didn’t push further.

Before she could say more, Ji-yoo’s laughter filled the room, drawing both of your attention. Your dad was awake now, a faint smile tugging at his chapped lips as Ji-yoo animatedly pointed to her drawing.

You took a deep breath, letting the moment wash over you. For now, it was enough to be there, together. The rest – the debts, the threats, the impossible weight – could wait until tomorrow or so on.

Two days passed without incident. Then, on a night like any other, you finished your shift at the convenience store and headed home. The walk back to your cramped apartment was quiet. The streets were empty, and for a moment, you let yourself believe you were safe. But the unease in your chest never really went away.

When you got home, something felt off. An envelope was waiting on the floor, just inside the door. Ji-yoo’s soft humming floated from her room, unaware of your arrival or the tension that gripped you. You bent down, picked up the envelope, and tore it open.

Inside were printed images on small sheets of paper. The sight hit you like a punch. It was you, captured in the dark alley that night – firing shots, bodies crumpling, blood pooling beneath them. The photos were grainy but damning.

Your hands shook as you unfolded the letter that came with them. The words were typed, cold and deliberate:

“You owe us. Pay up, or face the consequences. Here are your options: We report you to the police and let you explain these photos. Or we come to collect you ourselves. If that doesn’t motivate you, consider this: your little sister might just inherit your debt. She seems like a strong girl. We’re sure she’d manage.”

Your stomach churned. It wasn’t just a threat. It was a promise. They knew where you lived. They knew about Ji-yoo.

The envelope slipped from your hands, landing on the floor. Ji-yoo’s humming continued, light and carefree, completely unaware of the storm brewing in your chest. You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to breathe. You had to think. You had to act. Most of all, you had to protect her.

Mr. Suit’s words came back to you. He had promised a way out – earn money just by playing games. At the time, it sounded absurd, but now, it felt like your only option. The debt, the threats, all of it had consumed your life. You couldn’t let it take Ji-yoo too.

After dinner, you waited until Ji-yoo was busy with her homework. She sat at the small table, humming softly as she worked. Once you were sure she wouldn’t interrupt, you went to your room and locked the door. The card was in your pocket. You pulled it out and stared at the number on the back. Your hands trembled as you dialed.

The phone rang twice before someone picked up.

“Hello,” a calm, measured voice answered.

You swallowed hard. “I… got your card a couple of days ago.”

There was a brief pause. “Do you wish to participate in the game?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate.”

“It’s [Your Name]. I was born on [Your Birthdate].”

“Understood. Tomorrow night, at midnight, be at the bus stop near XXXX. A vehicle will pick you up.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you sitting there in silence. The phone slipped from your hand, and you stared at the floor. Whatever you had signed up for, there was no turning back now.

The next morning (Saturday), you decided to spend the day with Ji-yoo. When you told her, her face lit up with excitement. It was rare for the two of you to have a day together, and she practically bounced around the apartment, planning everything she wanted to do.

You spent the morning playing games, watching her favorite shows, and laughing at her silly jokes. For a while, it felt normal. The weight on your shoulders lifted just enough to let you breathe.

As the sun began to set, you knew it was time. You sat Ji-yoo down on the couch, your heart heavy.

“Ji-yoo,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I need to go away for a little while.”

Her small face twisted in confusion. “Why? Where are you going?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I have something important I need to take care of. It might take some time, but I need you to stay with Aunt Min-hee for a while. She’ll make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

Ji-yoo’s eyes filled with questions, but she simply nodded. “Okay. But you’ll come back, right?”

Your chest ached at her quiet acceptance. You pulled her into a tight hug, holding her like you never wanted to let go. “Of course I’ll come back. I promise. And when I do, I want to hear about all the new things you’ve learned, alright?”

She sniffled against your shoulder, then nodded. “Alright.”

You leaned back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You are a good girl, Ji-yoo.”

Whatever came next, you’d face it head-on. For her and for your parents.

NEXT : Chapter 02

Story Masterlist

I would love to know what you think so feel free to comment as long as you could!

Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho fanfic #in ho #the front man #player 001 #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #front man x reader #front man x you

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theambitiouswoman · 1 year ago

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Wealth Building: Money Topics You Should Learn About If You Want To Make More Money

Budgeting: This means keeping track of how much money you have and how you spend it. It helps you save money and plan for your needs.

Investing: This is like putting your money to work so it can grow over time. It's like planting seeds to grow a money tree.

Saving: Saving is when you put some money aside for later. It's like keeping some of your treats for another day.

Debt Management: This is about handling money you owe to others, like loans or credit cards. You want to pay it back without owing too much.

Credit Scores: Think of this like a report card for your money habits. It helps others decide if they can trust you with money.

Taxation: Taxes are like a fee you pay to the government. You need to understand how they work and how to pay them correctly.

Retirement Planning: This is making sure you have enough money to live comfortably when you're older and no longer working.

Estate Planning: This is like making a plan for your stuff and money after you're no longer here.

Insurance: It's like paying for protection. You give some money to an insurance company, and they help you if something bad happens.

Investment Options: These are different ways to make your money grow, like buying parts of companies or putting money in a savings account.

Financial Markets: These are places where people buy and sell things like stocks and bonds. It can affect your investments.

Risk Management: This is about being careful with your money and making smart choices to avoid losing it.

Passive Income: This is money you get without having to work for it, like rent from a property you own.

Entrepreneurship: It's like starting your own business. You create something and try to make money from it.

Behavioral Finance: This is about understanding how your feelings and thoughts can affect how you use money. You want to make good choices even when you feel worried or excited.

Financial Goals: These are like wishes for your money. You need a plan to make them come true.

Financial Tools and Apps: These are like helpers on your phone or computer that can make it easier to manage your money.

Real Estate: This is about buying and owning property, like a house or land, to make money.

Asset Protection: It's about keeping your money safe from problems or people who want to take it.

Philanthropy: This means giving money to help others, like donating to charities or causes you care about.

Compounding Interest: This is like a money snowball. When you save or invest your money, it can grow over time. As it grows, you earn even more money on the money you already earned.

Credit Cards: When you borrow money or use a credit card to buy things, you need to show you can pay it back on time. This helps you build a good reputation with money. The better your reputation, the easier it is to borrow more money when you need it.

Alternate Currencies: These are like different kinds of money that aren't like the coins and bills you're used to like Crypto. It's digital money that's not controlled by a government. Some people use it for online shopping, and others think of it as a way to invest, like buying special tokens for a game.

#money #finance #financial planning #investing #entrepreneur #wealth #success #make money online

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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 year ago

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Construction Dog Co.

Each one of these dumb brutes belongs to me! They once had their own lives and careers, but I replaced all that with the blind obedience of a dog. My words dictate their reality, so they'll believe anything I say. That's why it seems perfectly normal for them to wait like this every morning. They'd kneel there all day if I let them, but they need to work eventually!

"Get off your knees, dogs! Hop to work! It's the only thing you're good for!" I yell it with venom, but I relish seeing my words soaking in into their minds. With just a simple command, I've convinced them all that they are animals, good only for hard work and manual labor.

The men rush to their feet, scrambling to pick up where they'd left off yesterday. I don't bother understanding the minor details of their day to day responsibilities. I have different boys programmed to manage all that crap for me. I really only bother watching them sweat their days away.

Being the supervisor can get a bit boring, especially after hearing, "Thank you, boss. I love you, boss," for like the seventh time in a day. It kind of loses it's meaning after awhile.

That's why I often use them for entertainment. Watch this!

"Hey, you two!" I call, pointing at two sweaty workers nearby, "You're in love with each other. Make out!"

Despite being hot and exhausted, the two men drop their tools and perk up. When they meet each other's eyes it's like they're seeing one another for the first time. They practically slam their bodies together in a race to each other's throat, and within seconds the two guys are lost in a world of dirt, saliva, and lust.

I do this with my men often, but who could blame me! I handpicked each one of them because they were strong and hot. If they're going to be hypnotized work slaves, then I need to enjoy how they look.

"You too aren't doing anything else but each other for the rest of the day," I command with a laugh, "Got it?"

"Yes, sir," their replies are moaned out between breaths.

A lot of my laborers were straight before they met me, but these two were creeps about it. I think I found them at the gym, hitting on girls between every set. I obviously enjoyed erasing their raunchy personalities. I find it even more enjoyable watching them grope and slobber over each other, knowing that those bodies would've never done that before I came along.

Those jagoffs are just the beginning of my day! I leave them after they've tumbled to the ground, humping each other like the dumb animals they are.

"You there!" I point to a different guy, quietly stacking blocks nearby, "Get over here and clean the floor as I walk. These Timberlands are brand new and I don't want mud on them."

"Yes, sir," the worker answers and rushes over, throwing himself to the ground before me.

I chuckle and study the poor loser in front of me. With just a few short words, I have him scrubbing a place for me to walk like I'm his king. I scoff in disbelief when I finally recognize who the guy was.

"Wait, are you that jerk from the bank?"

"Yes, sir," he admits quietly, keeping his head lowered towards his work.

"Well shit, you've come a long way! Can you believe that a week ago you were some fancy banker who tried to deny me a loan?" I give his head a little nudge with the toe of my shoe, "This is a much better place for you...uh... Robert...or was it Roger?"

"Reggie, sir," he quickly corrects me.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," I scowl at him, "Forget your name. You're just a construction dog, now. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who are you?"

"I'm...I'm just a construction dog." I can tell he believes it now, too. I'm probably the only one here that knows his real name, and I'll definitely forget it within a few days.

"Good boy," I pat him on the head, "Now, you're going to stay ahead of me and keep clearing the floor for me to walk."

Reggie mumbles "Yes, sir," and crawls forward to scrub away the dirt in my immediate vicinity. Continuing on my tour, the poor guy struggles to keep up on all-fours, but a good work animal must get used to that position.

By the end of the day, my entire pack of men is sweaty and exhausted. I usually make them all work the maximum shift with no breaks, so it makes sense for them to be tired. Still, they are programmed to come and kneel before me, waiting to be dismissed. They're all a bit antsy for a rest, but I like to test their patience.

"Alright, boys. You're dismissed for the night."

With a collective groan, they climb back to their feet, marching off to the bunk house.

The bunk house is where I keep them when they aren't working. It might seem tight but each guy has enough room to sleep; although, I make them share because I don't want to purchase anymore bunk spaces. I don't really like to spend any money on them. They have access to the porta-john out back, but otherwise they aren't allowed to go anywhere else. I also only gave them the clothes they work in, so they sleep in them too.

Needless to say, it stinks in there. Between the heat, body odor, unwashed clothes, and lack of showers, they've created quite the stench. I avoid their home as much as I can, but sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me. This is the first time I've seen it in weeks.

"Come on boys, don't look so glum!" I chastise them, "Smile! Act like you're happy to see me!"

I watch as a switch goes in each of their minds. Slowly, they snap out of their foggy eyed depression, and light up. The energy of the room transforms as reassuring smiles spread across each of their manly faces.

"That's better! You boys are a tight-knit team! You love each other!" I add, "You don't mind the back-breaking work, or the smell, or anything as long as you're together."

The men become even more at ease, relaxing into the arms of their coworkers. My heart is warmed a little, seeing them getting along with each other so well. They're acting like energetic little puppies now.

I'm ready to leave them for the night. It's time for me to return to my luxury condo down the street, but before I do, I catch sight of one of my workers. An idea springs into my head.

"You, there. Come with me."

"Yes, sir," he answers, though he seems genuinely disappointed to be leaving his buddies.

I lead him outside and hose him off to remove at least some of the mud and sweat. We walk all the way to my apartment. Luckily, he's mostly dry by then so I take him inside.

"Is this going to take awhile, sir?" he asks nervously, "I'm pretty tired and my bedmate is going to sleep soon."

"Shut up and get on the bed," I command.

His mouth snaps shut and he obediently approaches my soft king bed, crawling onto it like I told him to. I sigh when I notice that the stupid oaf still tracked a lot of mud in. I'll have to make him clean it all up later.

"Now, you aren't going to speak or move unless I tell you too," I instruct, "But you will realize that anything I do will be exactly what you want: no matter what I do..."

He gazes back at me numbly.

"Tell me you understand."

"I understand, sir," he instantly repeats.

Tonight is going to be a long night for him. Too bad he still has to wake up early and report to work. I'm already planning on sleeping in. I don't mind keeping my workers waiting for a few hours while I rest. It's my company after all, and they're just dogs for labor...

#gay mind control #construction worker #humiliated slave #gay hypnosis #gay ai art

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thebookworm0001 · 2 years ago

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I am still of the opinion that musk is trying to run twitter into the ground so he can declare bankruptcy and get out of the shit ton of loans he has

however

Imagine for one god damn second that somehow you managed to purchase a company with such brand-name recognition that the act of using the service it provides created a whole-ass new verb

and for some damn reason you decide to throw that household name recognition into the garbage for a generic-ass name like X

And not only is the name generic and completely unrelated to the product you’re desperately trying to convince people to buy but that name is already copyrighted by two separate mega corporations - one of which is your direct competitor - and you seem to have stolen the logo you’re using from one of their earlier software lines

And fit also looks like you’re doing this because forever ago someone told you no to rebranding another well-known product to the same generic name so this appears to be one big hissy fit about not being able to do what you want all the time

anyway I’ve never seen someone so public self destruct in such a stupid way and it’d be hilarious if the thing he was bringing down with him wasn’t one of the more powerful tools for creating community and spreading information across the globe that we’ve got

#twitter #elon musk #he’s such an idiot it’s unbelievable

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jennifer-jeong · 7 months ago

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haiii!! could I put in a request for boothill x an alcoholic engineer reader who’s personality takes a complete 180 when drunk? Like when sober they’re really quiet and a total introvert but when drunk they’re basically a party animal/super hype(the reason why they drink so much is because it helps them forget about their life problems like taxes and student loan debt, if I had to compare the reader’s personality to a character I’d say hiroi kikuri from bocchi the rock) but they’re like crazy smart when it comes to machines and stuff and even fixes up boothill from time to time

headcanons or a small fic is fine^^

HII I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I’ve just been out of the groove of writing for a bit but your request is so cute and I wanted to take a shot at it. Thank you for your request and I hope you like it!

Fluff + Suggestive | Boothill x GN!Reader A Few Drinks

CONTENT Fluff, suggestive, him flirting with you, you flirting with him, getting handsy, alcohol consumption, pet name usage, no reader pronouns used, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1227

It was a regular Friday afternoon in your personal workshop situated in your home on a planet not far off from Penacony and easily accessible via space anchors. The planet was mostly made up of plains, your house sat near a pond and was surrounded by grass and your tiny gardens that you filled with flowers and succulents. You were an excellent engineer working both for corporations as well as taking on smaller private contracts/projects occasionally. You were currently working on a specific cyborg’s finger joint, putting the finishing touches on the cybernetics before he came to have it attached to his robotic body.

You heard a familiar clicking of boots against the sidewalk to your open workshop door before an equally familiar greeting from the cyborg cowboy.

“Heya sweetheart, how ya been? Hows my dumb fudging finger treatin ya?” he chirped, his voice slightly grainy and robotic due to a lack of organic vocal chords.

You swivel around in your chair, giving him a small smile. “Your pinky was pretty messed up but I managed,” you replied quietly, a little anxious talking to the -handsome- man you knew killed people on the daily.

“Ah, ya always fix me up fine and dandy, I knew you’d be able to help,” he said as he walked towards your workbench.

You gave him a small chuckle at the praise and turned around to grab the fixed finger. “Thanks… now just have a seat on the-” you were cut off by turning slightly and being met with his face awfully close to yours. He had leaned over your shoulder to take a closer look at your work, his hands held behind his back.

Your eyes widened as you froze for a moment, unintentionally staring at him before looking away. He was looking at your work but when you turned away he took the opportunity to scan over your flustered self, grinning slightly at how cute you were.

You always treated him so sweetly, disregarding what he did for work because you knew about his past. How could he not find you adorable?

He pulled away to walk towards the table that doubled as an operating table when he or your other clients needed bigger fixes.

“Here?” he says knowingly.

You nod quickly before grabbing a few tools and setting up to attach the part back to his synthetic nervous system.

It was a painful few minutes of him watching you intently as you worked. He was sitting up, leaning back on his right hand, legs spread as he got comfy. His left hand was propped up into a sleeve to keep it still as you worked on it. You tried hard to not look up at him despite knowing he was staring down at you the entire time, probably with that teasing grin he always wore around you.

Once you were done and he finished paying you (with a generous tip no less), he suddenly wondered what you’d be doing since the work week just ended.

“So, whadda ya doin after closin’ up shop today? Ya ever go out for Friday happy hour?”

You whipped your head around to him at the mention of drinking before looking down at the ground, hoping you didn’t seem too eager to talk about alcohol.

“Y-yeah, I go every weekend,” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “really? Ya didn’t really strike me as the drinkin’ type darlin’.”

You swallowed at his use of pet name.

“Yeah… it helps me get my mind off work and shit,” you shared with him, figuring it was fine to tell him about it since you already started to get to know each other pretty well during his visits. It was hard to explain, but you trusted him.

“Huh… Well, let’s fudgin’ go then!” He says, jumping off the table. “Lemme know when ya ready darlin”.”

“W-whoa there darlin’” Boothill says for the nth time after you two got to a vintage looking club in the city. You were stumbling a bit as he tried to prevent you from knocking anything over or getting yourself hurt. You kept bumping into him, grabbing onto his arms or his chest to stabilize yourself.

It was your turn to fluster the man.

After all the times he’d made you shy and bashful, him feeling your hands all over him in this context and not during some sort of repair procedure was really setting off his sensors.

You giggled in your drunken state and dragged him by his hand to the crowded dance floor. The current song was just ending and you heard the first few beats of one of your favorite songs. The crowd clearly also liked the song as you all started getting hyped. You started jumping and dancing in front of him as you held his shoulders. You even grabbed the attention of some nearby girls as they encouraged you and you did the same to them.

Boothill’s expression slowly morphed from curious shock to an endearing smirk as he laughed at your total 180 shift in personality as soon as you had a few drinks. His hands found your hips as you continued to dance all over him while he moved with the rhythm.

It was also in this moment that he realized exactly what you were wearing too, it was a pretty, skin tight top and ripped shorts, completely different from the baggy overalls and t-shirt you usually wore in the workshop.

He felt his body’s cooling system kick in a bit harder.

You noticed his eyes on you as you always did, but this time, with alcohol in your system, you decided to do something about it.

You pushed him into a nearby bar stool, forcing him to sit down and lean against the bar counter. You stood between his legs, hands on his chest as you leaned towards his face.

“Thanks for coming out with me Bootie~” you said with your eyes lidded, batting your eyelashes at him. His breath hitched at the sudden nickname usage that you’ve call him by before.

“I’ve been stressed about shit recently but this is fun” you giggle, “we should do it more often,” you add, looking him up and down, something he doesn’t miss.

He relaxes slightly, hands finding their place on your waist again as his signature grin comes out. You could tell he was still pretty flustered though, he was into it, but still a bit shy.

“You’re always looking at me like that, Bootie,” you say as you trace a finger on the underside of his jaw, making him look at you. “I don’t say it when I’m not drunk… but I hope y’know I don’t mind it,” you say with a smile and lidded eyes. Your finger trails off the bottom of his chin as he ever so slightly chases your touch.

You giggle again at his reactions to you, feeling a bit giddy knowing that he was as into you as you were into him.

You push off him to run back to the dance floor, calling out to him with the nickname you just gave him.

The cowboy adjusts his hat before blinking a few times, smiling, and exhaling the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He follows you back to the dance floor as he thinks “I’m fudged.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

#boothill x reader #boothill fluff #boothill smut #honkai x reader #honkai fluff #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #star rail x reader #star rail fluff #j's silly ramblings

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probablyasocialecologist · 18 days ago

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The Brutalist’s most intriguing and controversial technical feature points forward rather than back: in January, the film’s editor Dávid Jancsó revealed that he and Corbet used tools from AI speech software company Respeecher to make the Hungarian-language dialogue spoken by Adrien Brody (who plays the protagonist, Hungarian émigré architect László Tóth) and Felicity Jones (who plays Tóth’s wife Erzsébet) sound more Hungarian. In response to the ensuing backlash, Corbet clarified that the actors worked “for months” with a dialect coach to perfect their accents; AI was used “in Hungarian language dialogue editing only, specifically to refine certain vowels and letters for accuracy.” In this way, Corbet seemed to suggest, the production’s two central performances were protected against the howls of outrage that would have erupted from the world’s 14 million native Hungarian speakers had The Brutalist made it to screens with Brody and Jones playing linguistically unconvincing Magyars. Far from offending the idea of originality and authorship in performance, AI in fact saved Brody and Jones from committing crimes against the Uralic language family; I shudder even to imagine how comically inept their performances might have been without this technological assist, a catastrophe of fumbled agglutinations, misplaced geminates, and amateur-hour syllable stresses that would have no doubt robbed The Brutalist of much of its awards season élan. This all seems a little silly, not to say hypocritical. Defenders of this slimy deception claim the use of AI in film is no different than CGI or automated dialogue replacement, tools commonly deployed in the editing suite for picture and audio enhancement. But CGI and ADR don’t tamper with the substance of a performance, which is what’s at issue here. Few of us will have any appreciation for the corrected accents in The Brutalist: as is the case, I imagine, for most of the people who’ve seen the film, I don’t speak Hungarian. But I do speak bullshit, and that’s what this feels like. This is not to argue that synthetic co-pilots and assistants of the type that have proliferated in recent years hold no utility at all. Beyond the creative sector, AI’s potential and applications are limitless, and the technology seems poised to unleash a bold new era of growth and optimization. AI will enable smoother reductions in headcount by giving managers more granular data on the output and sentiment of unproductive workers; it will allow loan sharks and crypto scammers to get better at customer service; it will offer health insurance companies the flexibility to more meaningfully tie premiums to diet, lifestyle, and sociability, creating billions in savings; it will help surveillance and private security solution providers improve their expertise in facial recognition and gait analysis; it will power a revolution in effective “pre-targeting” for the Big Pharma, buy-now-pay-later, and drone industries. Within just a few years advances like these will unlock massive productivity gains that we’ll all be able to enjoy in hell, since the energy-hungry data centers on which generative AI relies will have fried the planet and humanity will be extinct.

3 March 2025

#The Brutalist #AI #artificial intelligence #media #movies

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yesornopolls · 1 month ago

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The article under the cut

Allies of Elon Musk stationed within the Education Department are considering replacing some contract workers who interact with millions of students and parents annually with an artificial intelligence chat bot, according to internal department documents and communications.

The proposal is part of President Trump’s broader effort to shrink the federal work force, and would mark a major change in how the agency interacts with the public. The Education Department’s biggest job is managing billions of dollars in student aid, and it routinely fields complex questions from borrowers.

The department currently uses both call centers and a rudimentary A.I. bot to answer questions. The proposal would introduce generative A.I., a more sophisticated version of artificial intelligence that could replace many of those human agents.

The call centers employ 1,600 people who field over 15,000 questions per day from student borrowers.

The vision could be a model for other federal agencies, in which human beings are replaced by technology, and behemoth contracts with outside companies are shed or reduced in favor of more automated solutions. In some cases, that technology was developed by players from the private sector who are now working inside or with the Trump administration.

Mr. Musk has significant interest in A.I. He founded a generative A.I. company, and is also seeking to gain control of OpenAI, one of the biggest players in the industry. At other agencies, workers from the newly created Department of Government Efficiency, headed by Mr. Musk, have told federal employees that A.I. would be a significant part of the administration’s cost-cutting plans.

A year after the Education Department oversaw a disastrous rollout of a new federal student aid application, longtime department officials say they are open to the idea of seeking greater efficiencies, as have leaders in other federal agencies. Many are partnering with the efficiency initiative.

But Department of Education staff have also found that a 38 percent reduction in funding for call center operations could contribute to a “severe degradation” in services for “students, borrowers and schools,” according to one internal document obtained by The Times.

The Musk associates working inside the Education Department include former executives from education technology and venture capital firms. Over the past several years, those industries have invested heavily in creating A.I. education tools and marketing them to schools, educators and students.

The Musk team at the department has focused, in part, on a help line that is currently operated on a contract basis by Accenture, a consulting firm, according to the documents reviewed by The Times. The call center assists students who have questions about applying for federal Pell grants and other forms of tuition aid, or about loan repayment.

The contract that includes this work has sent more than $700 million to Accenture since 2019, but is set to expire next week.

“The department is open to using tools and systems that would enhance the customer service, security and transparency of data for students and parents,” said Madi Biedermann, the department’s deputy assistant secretary for communications. “We are evaluating all contracts to assess effectiveness relative to costs.”

Accenture did not respond to interview requests. A September report from the Education Department describes 1,625 agents answering 462,000 calls in one month. The agents also handled 118,000 typed chats.

In addition to the call line, Accenture provides a broad range of other services to the student aid system. One of those is Aidan, a more rudimentary virtual assistant that answers basic questions about student aid. It was launched in 2019, during Mr. Trump’s first term.

Accenture reported in 2021 that Aidan fielded 2.2 million messages in one year. But its capabilities fall far short of what Mr. Musk’s associates envision building using generative A.I., according to the internal documents.

Both Mr. Trump and former President Joseph R. Biden Jr. directed federal agencies to look for opportunities to use A.I. to better serve the public.

The proposal to revamp the communication system follows a meltdown in the rollout of the new Free Application for Federal Student Aid, or FAFSA, last year under Mr. Biden. As FAFSA problems caused mass confusion for students applying for financial aid, several major contractors, including Accenture, were criticized for breakdowns in the infrastructure available to students and parents seeking answers and help.

From January through May last year, roughly three-quarters of the 5.4 million calls to the department’s help lines went unanswered, according to a report by the Government Accountability Office.

More than 500 workers have since been added to the call centers, and wait times were significantly reduced, according to the September Department of Education report.

But transitioning into using generative A.I. for student aid help, as a replacement for some or all human call center workers, is likely to raise questions around privacy, accuracy and equal access to devices, according to technology experts.

Generative A.I. systems still sometimes share information that is false.

Given how quickly A.I. capabilities are advancing, those challenges are potentially surmountable, but should be approached methodically, without rushing, said John Bailey, a fellow at the American Enterprise Institute and former director of educational technology at the Education Department under President George W. Bush.

Mr. Bailey has since become an expert on the uses of A.I. in education.

“Any big modernization effort needs to be rolled out slowly for testing, to see what works and doesn’t work,” he said, pointing to the botched introduction of the new FAFSA form as a cautionary tale.

“We still have kids not in college because of that,” he said.

In recent weeks, the Education Department has absorbed a number of DOGE workers, according to two people familiar with the process, who requested anonymity because they were not authorized to discuss the department’s security procedures and feared for their jobs.

One of the people involved in the DOGE efforts at the Education Department is Brooks Morgan, who until recently was the chief executive of Podium Education, an Austin-based start-up, and has also worked for a venture capital firm focused on education technology, according to the two people.

Another new staffer working at the agency is Alexandra Beynon, the former head of engineering at Mindbloom, a company that sells ketamine, according to those sources and an internal document.

And a third is Adam Ramada, who formerly worked at a Miami venture capital firm, Spring Tide Capital, which invests in health technology, according to an affidavit in a lawsuit filed against the Department of Government Efficiency.

None of those staffers responded to interview requests.

#not a poll #current events

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justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

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au Joel eating Doc out as she vents about her day at the hospital watching her slowly forget about it

👁️🫦👁️

OMG Hi Bestie!

This ask was DELICIOUS OMFG and soooo Joel coded. Just so so so so so Lavender AU!Joel coded. I love him so much and I just know he's done exactly this for Doc so many times over the years. Girl works a stressful job, she needs some release, after all.

Anyway, I hope this fits what you're looking for! Thank you so much for reading and for asking for this! Love you!!

Long Day

Joel takes care of you after a hard day at the hospital. A one shot set in the universe of the Lavender No-Outbreak AU.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Lavender AU Female Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT. Oral sex (F receiving), unprotected P in V sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.9k

Remind me again why I wanted to be chief of pediatric surgery?

Joel wasn’t surprised to get your text when he took a minute to check his phone while on a job site. You’d been up late the night before, preparing for a presentation to the hospital board to get more funding for your department. Some kind of new equipment that you desperately wanted and gushed about at every opportunity that Joel could not understand at fuck all. The curse of falling for a woman so much smarter than him, he supposed.

Because you’re nothing if not a high achiever, he texted back. What’s going on, Baby?

I hate the bureaucracy of this, you replied. One of my favorite kids came in today, her mom is beside herself, and am I with them? No, I’m walking some asshole through the surgical wing of the peds floor.

“Hey Miller!” One of the site managers called to him. “Got a question for you!”

“One sec!” Joel yelled back before he texted you back again.

Think you can make it home at a reasonable time or are they going to chain you to the desk?

Only thing that would keep me here is the inside of an OR, you wrote back. They’d better deal.

Joel smiled a little at that. Back in your residency years, he’d have resigned himself to not seeing you on days like today. He’d take care of Evie and worry that you weren’t eating enough or pushing yourself too hard or crying in the car from stress before coming inside so you didn’t freak out him or your daughter.

He’d caught you doing that once, the car parked on the street as he walked back from loaning a tool to a neighbor down the road. He was so excited to see you that it took him a moment to realize you were crying, your forehead against the steering wheel, your whole body shaking with it.

He opened the door, making you jump and start trying to dry your your eyes before he could notice.

“Hey now,” he said gently, leaning into the car with his arm propped over the door. “What’s goin’ on, Baby?”

“Nothing,” you sniffed. “Just a really really awful day, I’ll be fine, it’s fine, I’m just not used to it yet…”

Joel frowned.

“Used to what?”

“All of it,” your voice was shaky. “Just all the stress and the exhaustion and I keep getting more attached to patients than I should. I had a kid today who was in a car accident and he looked fine so I was joking with him when doing the initial exam trying to keep him calm and the next thing I know he’s crashing and we couldn’t get him back and it just really fucking sucks sometimes, Joel. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this…”

“Hey,” he gently reached out and cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this. I’m sure of it, never been more sure of anything in my life. Except maybe loving you but that’s an extremely high bar.”

You laughed a wet little laugh and sighed.

“Do you still want to do this?” He asked, frowning slightly. “Because you don’t have to, Baby. Don’t care that you went to med school, you don’t have to be a doctor if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“No, I want it,” you nodded once, more to yourself than anything else. “If I’m strong enough, I want it.”

He took you inside and sent you to go shower, picking up your scrubs off the bathroom floor and putting them in the washer. He set out your favorite swimsuit and made you a frozen margarita before moving the boom box to by the pool and putting on your favorite Beatles album. He grabbed the book from your bedside table and set it next to the margarita just as you came outside, already looking more like yourself.

“Oh Babe, you didn’t have to do all this,” your hand went to your heart and, for a second, Joel was afraid you’d start crying again.

“I know,” he said. “But I wanna take care of my girl. Feeling anything for dinner? I can order Chinese or pizza or make you something?”

“Can I get Mongolian Beef?” You asked, taking a sip of the margarita. “With an obscene amount of egg rolls?”

Joel smiled a little.

“Of course Baby,” he said.

Joel took care of Evie so you had space to relax but you pulled her onto your lap and held her close while you ate, your nose buried in her hair while she told you everything about her day.

When he took you to bed, he had every intention of keeping his hands to himself. But you had a different idea. You kissed his shoulder, his neck, over his jaw.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Don’t push yourself…”

“I’m not,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “Want you, want to feel you…”

He kissed you, gently at first, but your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling his mouth tightly to your own. Your hips ground against his, your breasts flush against his chest. He clutched onto you and moaned into your lips.

“Make me forget it all,” you said softly. “Please, Joel. Just for a bit.”

He moved you below him and took you slowly but firmly, like he was fucking every ounce of love he had for you, for the family you’d made together, into you until that was all that was left. There were no insane hours, no one you couldn’t save, no life or death stress. There was just you and him and how much he loved you.

The next day, he called in sick and kept Evie home from school. The three of you snuggled in bed until you needed to go to the hospital that evening.

“Thank you,” you said as you kissed him next to your car, the same place he’d found you crying the day before. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I’m so proud of you Baby,” he held your face in his hands. “My girl the doctor.”

After that, Joel always knew exactly what you needed after a rough day at the hospital.

He texted Ellie to see if she could go to a friend’s place for a while after school - something she was thrilled about - and he stopped by your favorite BBQ place on the way home to pick up all your usuals. He opened a bottle of your favorite French wine and had a plate ready and waiting for you when you walked in the door.

“Joel,” you smiled, coming over and dropping your forehead to his chest. He smiled a little and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Yes,” he said. He felt you laugh against him. “But don’t mind hearin’ it again.”

You vented a little over dinner and the two of you polished off one bottle of wine before you moved to the living room. Joel opened a second and put on your favorite movie and held you on the couch, his hand tracing the contours of your body as he held you close.

“Ugh, you guys are gross,” Ellie said when you didn’t bother to separate from him at all when she came in the front door.

“Love you too, Gremlin!” You called after her as she went to her room. Joel laughed.

“Why do we keep endin’ up with teenaged girls?” He asked. “That’s the hardest age but I swear we’ve had a teenaged girl in this house for 20 fuckin’ years.”

“Gluttons for punishment,” you said, a smile on your voice.

“Doin’ any better?” He asked, fingers trailing through your hair against your scalp.

You sighed.

“A bit but…” your voice trailed off. “I’m so sick of this part of my damn job. There’s only so much board member ass I can kiss before I want to throw up. I got into this to take care of kids not deal with bureaucrats, you know?”

“You are helping kids by dealing with the bureaucrats,” Joel kissed your temple and gave you a squeeze as the credits to the movie ended. “C’mon baby, let me take you to bed.”

He got up and, before you had a chance to follow, he scooped you up off the couch. You let out a little shriek, your arms flinging around his neck and he laughed a little as he carried you to bed.

“Isn’t your back getting too old for that?” You teased as he set you gently on the bed.

“More worried about my knees,” he smiled a little. “Good thing I’m married to a doctor. Damn good one at that.”

“Not so sure about that last part these days,” you sighed and he leaned over and kissed you, gently, your face delicately in his large hand. His fingers tangled in your hair and he lay you back in the middle of the bed until you were stretched out below him. He pulled his mouth ever so slightly from yours, making you whimper.

“What were you sayin’ Baby?” He asked, his nose brushing your own.

“Uh,” you closed your eyes for a second. “I… I’m not sure…”

He kissed you softly for a moment before pulling away again.

“Good.”

He kissed down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went, until he got to your pants. He recognized them, you called them your ass kicking pants. You wore them when you wanted the extra confidence, wanted to feel like you could take control of anything. Joel just loved the way they made your ass and thighs look. He took a moment to appreciate the view, pressing a kiss just above the waist of your pants, his eyes running up your body until they met yours.

“Tell me everything botherin’ that pretty head of yours,” he said before kissing your stomach again. Your fingers twisted in the duvet. “C’mon baby. I want to hear you.”

“I had to show around Anders, that one board member who really sucks,” you said, voice a little breathy. Joel opened your pants and hooked his fingers around the waistband of them and your panties. You whimpered.

“Why’s he suck again?” Joel asked, sitting up enough to start pulling your pants down. You raised your hips off the bed to help and he pulled the clothes over your hips.

“You know why,” you were fully panting now.

Joel did know why. That wasn’t the point.

“Remind me.”

He pulled your pants off completely and climbed between your legs, settling between your thighs. He pressed a kiss to your mound and you moaned at his touch.

“He’s all about profit,” you said, voice tense and needy. “He loves plastics because it’s a money driver, always wants them to get the newest technology, everyone else always gets the…”

You cut off with a quiet gasp as Joel pressed his tongue to your clit, licking the sensitive nub firmly. He smiled a little and kissed you there, sucking you into his mouth for a moment before licking up your seam back to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel…” you were panting below him now. His hands went to your thighs, holding them to his head.

“What else, Baby?” He asked, kissing your clit again. “Tell me every little thing making that beautiful brain of yours work overtime.”

“There’s… Um…” your head dropped back onto the bed. “There’s that clinical trial that’s starting in a few weeks…”

He slipped his tongue between your folds, the tip of him slipping into your tight hole, making you moan and your back start to arch. He pressed deeper.

“I lost… I lost a day of work on it today and…”

His nose brushed your clit and you turned your head to bury your mouth in the mattress as you fought to not cry out in pleasure. His tongue opened your tight little hole for him, stretching and reaching deep, parting your walls. You panted and your channel coated Joel’s tongue in more slick, the flavor of your passion smooth and musky and slightly sweet. You rocked your hips against him and he smiled against your mound, his tongue stretched so the tip of it brushed the soft place inside of you that he loved.

“Keep goin’, Baby,” he said, pulling his mouth from you when you’d been speechless a little too long. “Tell me all of it.”

You took a moment, gasping and panting for breath.

“I didn’t get to spend time with Kaylee and her mom, Cara, today,” you managed. “Cara gets worried and I know she trusts me…”

Your voice broke as Joel thrust his tongue and a finger inside your tight hole, pressing deep into you and finding the places that he knew made you fall apart below him. He ate at you, his nose buried in your seam, brushing up against your swollen clit, tongue working you, finger stretching you. You let out a strangled little cry as your channel grew tight around him and he moaned against your pussy, starting to rut his hips down against the mattress. But he didn’t want to distract you, this was about you forgetting, not about him. You ground your hips against his face, unable to stop yourself anymore.

He licked into you, nose working your clit, finger hooking into your inner wall until you came over him, Joel lapping up your wetness as it spilled onto his tongue and his lips.

“Joel!” You gasped, your whole body arched for a moment as you throbbed around him and then collapsed back onto the bed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing against his tongue.

He waited until your body was loose on the bed before he pulled his tongue and finger from you. He wiped his mouth on his arm and crawled up your body to where you lay, panting and pliant below him.

“What else is botherin’ my girl? He asked softly, his fingers in your hair.

“I… um…” you were breathless. “I don’t remember.”

“Good,” he said softly, leaning in slowly to kiss you gently.

He stripped off his clothes and put one of his hands against your pussy, tracing your dripping seam, while he worked his cock for a moment. He kissed you, took your hand and lined his thick cock up with your entrance and pressed into you slowly, until he was deep inside you.

“Joel,” you breathed, your eyes searching his.

“Baby,” he nuzzled your cheek, savoring the feeling of you below him and around him, how tight you were, how warm, how soft. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” you said softly.

He kissed you again and started to move inside you, slow but firm. He thrust deep inside you until the tip of him was pressing against the place inside you that made you start to tighten around him before pulling back slowly. His head caught on every ridge of muscle inside you and he savored that feeling, this part of you that felt like it belonged to him. When just his head was left in your tight, grasping sex, he thrust back in you hard, hard enough to force the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, Joel,” your hips pressed up into him as you started to tighten around him. “Joel, please…”

“Anything else on your mind, Baby?” He panted. You whimpered and shook your head quickly. “I want to be the only thing in this pretty head, want to be the only thing inside of any part of you.”

You arched into him, your fingers digging into the flesh of his back as your pussy got even tighter around him.

“That’s it Baby,” he managed, his own orgasm getting closer. “C’mon, come all over me. Come all over this cock, I’m so close Baby, want you to milk me dry, c’mon Baby…”

You buried your face in his shoulder and thrust your hips up against his as you came around him, your channel throbbing fiercely over him. He only lasted two more thrusts before he pressed himself deep and came in you, filling you with rope after rope of his spend.

Your orgasm outlasted his own, your body pulling every last drop of come from his own and he collapsed as you went limp below him. Joel rolled onto his back and pulled you with him, so you were loosely draped over his body, his cock still deep inside you. He ran his hands slowly over your back as the two of you came down from your shared high. After a moment, you pressed a kiss to his chest and he felt you smile against his skin.

“What?” He asked.

“Definitely doing better now,” you said, teasing a little. He smiled.

“Good,” he kissed the top of your head. “Gotta do whatever I can to take care of my girl the doctor.”

You laughed a little.

“You take such good care of me,” your fingers traced little paths over his chest. “Think I can do anything as long as I’ve got you, Joel.”

He smiled and rested a hand on the small of your back.

“I think so, too.”

#fanfic #kit answers #send asks #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut

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yatagarasuhonyaku · 3 months ago

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The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 3 "Chihaya" Part 1

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

For the Index, you can find it HERE

Previously: Akeru (Part 3)

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Chapter 3: Chihaya (Part 1)

“Brother, help!”

The second I heard Yui’s1 throat-rending shriek, the basket in my hands fell. The cotton in it scattered on the ground, kicked every which way as I dashed through the fields. I saw everyone’s pale faces as I got closer—they all looked away, avoiding my gaze. Behind their backs was the shed.

The door, usually left open, was tightly closed.

“No, stop…… Brother, brother!” Her voice desperately calling for help—accompanied by ceaseless rattling.

“Let it be,” someone said as he grabbed my arm, but there was no way I was going to endure and stand aside. I shook him off and tackled the door with all my might. As it broke open, I forced my way inside.

The shed’s interior was dark.

Opposite the farming tools were bundles of straw, all piled up. There they were—a familiar man, who had just turned around towards me with a dumbfounded face, and Yui. Her back was against the straw, her skinny, exposed body standing out even in the darkness. Her hair was caught in the straw. He had immobilized her, exposing her throat. The hem of her feather robe was rolled up, baring her thin legs—the man’s hand was there, plunging towards her depths.

——My head went blank.

I don’t quite remember what happened afterwards. By the time I came back to myself, the man was already lying on the ground. Blood spilled from his head in unbelievable quantities as I hugged a sobbing Yui, staring at the man in shock. He was completely still.

“Kou, what have you done……!?” someone’s shrieking voice called to me as I raised my head sluggishly. I knew what I had just done—and the most likely consequences for my actions.

“This is bad. I’ve seen people go to the Main Residence already.”

“We have no time.”

“Kou, take Yui and run! Hurry!”

I did as I was told and leaped out of the shed with Yui on my back. In front of me were the wide cotton fields, ready for harvest, shining the purest white like fresh snow. It was through them that I ran and ran with only one goal in mind—the mountains, where nobody lived.

We had endured and endured and endured, day after day. But no more.

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Sumio found himself dazzled by the strong sunlight for a second as he left the Unbending Reed Monastery’s library. He was filled by an instant yearning for the refreshing darkness he had just left behind, his eyes hurting due to the sparkling sun, when a familiar voice called for him.

“Sumio? What brings you to a place like this?”

He turned around to find the beaming face of someone he knew. The boy was holding a bunch of books in his hands. “Oh, Yukiya! How are you?”

“Good! Thanks to everyone’s help, I’ve managed to find people I can call friends.”

Despite his current status as a Yamauchi Guard, Sumio was a commoner by birth. However, He and Wakamiya had first met when they were both young, which, among other factors, had led Sumio to become Wakamiya’s exclusive bodyguard once the Prince returned to Yamauchi. Which meant that Yukiya and Sumio had seen each other every day during Yukiya’s time working as Wakamiya’s attendant, so, despite having met not that long ago, it truly felt like quite a while to him.

“Well, trustworthy companions are welcome news. If we don’t get more people who can take care of guarding Wakamiya soon, I'm going to get an ulcer.”

Ever since Natsuka had made his support public, Rokon had loaned some of his men to him a number of times, but Sumio didn’t wholeheartedly trust Rokon either. To make matters worse, the Yamauchi Guards that had graduated in the last few years had proved to be similarly unreliable. In practice, Sumio was still Wakamiya’s one and only bodyguard.

“Once you all become part of the Guard, I should finally be able to breathe easier.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m doing everything I can to ensure so.” Yukiya gave him quite the bright smile, to which Sumio unconsciously did a double-take. In response, Yukiya tilted his head innocently. “So, what brings you here, Sumio? Research?”

“Oh, yes…… A bit.”

“——You’re on your way back, right? I’ll see you off then.” From the looks of it, Yukiya had noticed the topic wasn’t one they could discuss there. He started to walk, accompanying Sumio with the books still in hand.

“Wait, shouldn’t you be in class at this hour?”

“The instructors told us to do self-study today for their own convenience. So, as we’ll be taking tests for the following ten days, I thought I would try my luck at guessing the questions.”

A ten day period of tests preceded any long vacations at the Monastery. As Yukiya’s senior had gone through the very same experience a few years ago, Sumio couldn’t bring himself to ignore that last part. “Don’t dilly-dally. You should study properly for those.”

“No worries, I don’t need to study in the first place. I only have to listen to things once during lessons to memorize everything,” Yukiya responded nonchalantly, but Sumio found his answer just as hard to ignore in a wholly different sense.

Before he could say anything about it however, Yukiya continued in a grave tone, “The problem is my friends. To be honest, no matter how much I want to help them, I can’t even figure out what they are struggling with in the first place…… We were getting nowhere, so Akeru kicked me out of the room.”

Yukiya looked up at the sky in lament as he let out an ‘I’m useless’. Sumio, who still bore the memories of struggling through the Monastery’s exams, could only let out an empty laugh.

“By ‘Akeru’ you mean Lady Masuho no Susuki’s little brother, right? Are his grades bad as well?”

“No, no. He’s there as the Study Group’s teacher. He used to constantly pick fights with the commoners, but it seems he had a change of heart.”

According to Yukiya, Akeru had been quite meek with them at first, too self-conscious over his previous attitude and the way he had ridiculed them all, the more his passion for teaching had grown over time, the more he had opened up to them all.

“His explanations are accurate and easy to understand, so they all treat him as a god among men now. His current nickname is ‘Lord Professor’ which, you know, is halfway making fun of him, but he hasn’t realized that yet so there’s probably nothing to worry about. All in all, he’s very much like his sister, smart and trustworthy—and just as strong-willed as well.”

“I see,” Sumio forced a smile at that last part.

Masuho no Susuki was known as Yamauchi’s most beautiful princess but, in truth, she also held the top spot in pridefulness as well. She worked under Wakamiya’s wife as a lady-in-waiting, so Sumio had had many chances to meet her so far, and had clashed with her a similarly high number of times—though he had still never beaten her in a single argument.

“But anyway, what brought you here today, Sumio?” Once he checked their surroundings and confirmed there wasn’t anyone around, Yukiya’s tone changed ever so slightly. “It’s about the incident from a hundred years ago, right?”

Yukiya already knew everything about what happened with the White Raven. In fact, Wakamiya had called him to Sunrise Palace during one of Yukiya’s breaks and personally explained it all to him. They had all been worried about his reaction, given his absence at the time, but Yukiya didn’t seem fazed at all by the revelation that his Lord could, in reality, be an incomplete True Golden Raven.

“Memories going back to the times of Yamauchi’s founding, huh. Quite suspicious in a sense, for them to go back so far.” It was unmistakably a shocking revelation, yet Yukiya had seemed to be doing just fine.

“Aren’t you surprised?” Wakamiya asked him out of confusion at the time.

“I am pretty surprised!” Yukiya replied jokingly. “But, whether your memories are incomplete or not, that doesn’t change the fact that your existence is necessary for Yamauchi. I’m more concerned that you think my loyalty would be shaken by something like this.”

“You’re only saying that because I have the power to fix the tears in the barrier, right? But I don’t know anything about why they’re appearing or what using that power may bring as a result.”

“Even if that’s the case, it’s still better than doing nothing and letting those tears be, isn’t it? That would be stupid,” Yukiya said with a scoff. “No matter what that power may bring us in the future, it’s not like we have any alternative in the current circumstances. Or are we planning to metaphorically starve to death, stuck hesitating over one potential pitfall?”

“You have a point, but—”

“There’s no point in overthinking it, that’s all,” Yukiya stated firmly, before adding in what seemed to be an attempt at cheering Wakamiya up, “At the very least, we all know Your Highness loves and cares for Yamauchi more than anyone else. There’s no way that power would bring harm to our people, not when used by someone like you. Believe in yourself, it’s fine to be as brazen as usual.”

The memory of Yukiya’s smile at the time crossed his mind, and Sumio sighed inwardly. Yukiya may not have given it too much importance, but Natsuka and Wakamiya himself were quite preoccupied by these True Golden Raven memories. Most of all Natsuka, who had since dedicated much of his energy into scouring the documents left at the Imperial Court.

Unfortunately, a lack of records from that era meant they didn’t have much to show for their efforts, but they had still slowly managed to get a grasp on the circumstances behind the True Golden Raven’s disappearance at the other side of the Gate.

He vanished in the spring of the Year 28 of the Bright Tortoise.

Just like the White Raven had told them, the Forbidden Gate had been open at the time and the True Golden Raven had been constantly going in and out from the Holy Precincts found at the other side. His name was Naritsuhiko—he was Yamauchi’s ruler four generations preceding the current Acting Golden Raven.

A drought during his mid-twenties aside, there hadn’t been any calamities worth naming during his otherwise stable and peaceful rule, but then, one day, a massive earthquake shook all of Yamauchi. It was then recorded that Naritsuhiko crossed the Forbidden Gate and left for the Holy Precincts to consult Yamagami’s divine will—and never returned.

However, thanks to Natsuka’s research, they had recently discovered that one of Naritsuhiko’s trusted vassals had accompanied him on his trip to the Forbidden Gate that fateful day.

“And, no matter how I think about it, there is more to that than may appear at first glance. I mean, he went into the Forbidden Gate together with his Lord, but this man and this man alone returned safely to Yamauchi.”

“So you’re telling me that he left the True Golden Raven behind at the Holy Precincts and came back all by himself?”

“Exactly. On top of that, his professional trajectory after his return to Yamauchi was all but conventional. He ultimately became the Yellow Raven.”

At that moment, Yukiya’s eyes went so wide with shock they may well have fallen. “Wait, then that’s Land Sovereign2 Eiju we’re talking about!”

The Yellow Raven—also known as Land Sovereign, his respective honorific title3. Acquiring such a position meant to be entrusted with command over all state affairs, so it was one only given with the unanimous approval of all officials in the Imperial Court.

The Yellow Raven was the one and only person with the right to rule the country in place of their Lord, be it because the Golden Raven—either Acting or True—was still too young to do so, or because the Golden Raven’s capability for governance had been put into question for any other reason.

Not every generation necessarily had a Yellow Raven, but it was the highest position anyone could achieve at the Imperial Court. A title only given to high-ranking officials who had written their names in history.

“The very same. The Imperial Court was left in disarray after the Forbidden Gate closed and His Majesty Naritsuhiko disappeared, and that's when he became the young Crown Prince’s guardian.” With that, he single-handedly attained complete control over the Court and rose up to the position of Land Sovereign.

Land Sovereign Eiju, according to what information they had gathered on him, was originally a South-affiliated noble who, after graduating from the Unbending Reed Monastery and becoming part of the Yamauchi Guard, was promoted to one of Naritsuhiko’s trusted vassals.

On top of that, ever since Eiju’s rule, the frequency in which Southern Princesses married into the Imperial Family almost shifted into a constant. With that in consideration, it would be foolish to deny that the man was responsible for building the foundations for the South’s ironclad control on Yamauchi’s throne through marriage.

As Sumio’s explanation finished, Yukiya was left with an indescribable face. “Hearing that, it sounds like Land Sovereign Eiju intentionally chased away the True Golden Raven to gain free rein over the Imperial Court.”

“It sounds like it, but that can’t be—I think.” There was no way for anyone to tell what the truth of the matter was. It all happened too long ago. “Anyway, I came today to see if there were any records remaining of his time at the Monastery.”

“And from the looks of it, you didn’t find much, I take it?”

“It has been over a hundred years after all. The only records remaining were of his graduation.” Which was why all they had managed to learn was that he graduated as the first of his class. “As far as history goes, Land Sovereign Eiju is the last Yellow Raven we have had. He made plenty of reforms and laws, which means there are a multitude of records about his government, yet there is suspiciously little of anything predating His Majesty Naritsuhiko’s disappearance.”

“Now that you mention it, didn’t he helm a large-scale project to compile and edit history books? Do you think he could have used the chance to intentionally eliminate and falsify documents?”

“If I were to make a guess, yes.”

As a vassal, to leave the Golden Raven behind at the Holy Precincts and return alone was already a blunder so severe not even multiple lifetimes would be enough to repent. If one were to assume there was something dark lurking behind the events, Land Sovereign Eiju could have well been the type to have no qualms about performing such cover-ups.

“In any case, as long as the True Golden Raven’s memories don’t return and there’s no written records, we simply don’t have any way to know what went on in the past.”

Yukiya exchanged glances with Sumio and, with a frown on his face, stood there deep in thought. “...... Just what the hell happened in the Holy Precincts a hundred years ago?”

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After seeing Sumio off, Yukiya headed back to the room they used for the Study Group. The floor was littered with the bodies of despondent boys.

“I’m back!” Yukiya announced, struggling to find a way to step around them.

“Welcome back—” a number of spiritless voices responded, all coming from the heaps of corpses lying around that he called friends.

“What’s wrong, everyone?”

“Just a break. A break!”

“Lord Professor went to pick up something he forgot in his room. We’re resting in the meantime.”

“I can’t do this anymore…… My head is about to explode……”

“Good job, everyone, good job.”

Time had flown by—nearly four months had already passed since the Seeds first came to the Monastery. Those unable to keep up with their studies and training were starting to pop up here and there, but all the members of their group had somehow managed to hold on.

Once Yukiya finally managed to pass through the salumps of wailing trainees slumped on the ground, he moved closer to the wall. “I tried to further narrow down the test question predictions I made the other day. Once Akeru is back, have him explain them to you.”

“Ooh, thank you.”

“Thanks, but I wish I didn’t need to—”

“Please, Lord Professor, take your time coming back,” someone else pathetically pleaded. At the same time, the sliding door, which they had closed to block off the sun, unexpectedly opened.

“Guess that’s my bad for returning quickly!” A thundering merciless roar—wildly reminiscent of Kashin’s yells—came out from the backlit figure. “Come on, stand up right now! Stop dillydallying, you pathetic little shits. You have no time to rest right now!”

The boys at their feet wailed as Yukiya passed to Akeru the paper where he had written the test predictions. “Good job, teacher. I heard you forgot something?”

“I didn’t forget anything. I just didn’t think we needed to go over something so basic so I left the textbook behind. I didn’t find it necessary to bring it, foolish of me, which is how I ended up having to go all the way back for it.”

‘My bad for not knowing that much!’ ‘Sorry for being stupid!’ The corpses on the ground wallowed and writhed. Then, at that instant, the sound of the alarm bell reached them—the entire room instantly froze.

“——An ambush,” someone whispered. All the boys who were lying down stood up in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t fuck with us! We’re studying here!”

“We were taking a break, though.”

“Shige! Your Ornamented Blade, you’re forgetting it!”

They all picked up their Ornamented Blades among an incessant fuss and left the room as they kicked the desks and books in their way. They wove their feather robes anew while running as fast as they could. Once they finally reached the plaza in front of the Great Hall, they found the other trainees also rushing there from all directions of the Monastery.

“Too slow! Now line up by year, we’ll be doing a roll call!”

At Kashin’s orders, their bodies moved automatically, almost by reflex. Those who arrived first got in front of him and raised their hands as everyone else flocked behind them to form lines. Then, the very last person in each line ran to the front while counting everyone in it.

“Eight Evergreens present. Everyone is accounted for, excluding those absent on field practice.”

“Twenty one Saplings present. Everyone is accounted for.”

“Thirty nine Seeds present—one person missing.”

The moment their fellow trainee made the announcement, one could almost hear the Seeds let out a collective silent cry. It was everyone’s responsibility if someone was missing during an ambush. While the identity of the idiot remained yet unclear, there was no question he had just incurred all the Seeds’ hatred.

Kashin’s face too went red with rage. His next yell was so loud the very walls of the Great Hall shook because of it. “Now, who is it!?”

“1-1’s Chihaya.”

Something was amiss, Yukiya noticed as soon as he heard the name.

While Chihaya was catastrophically unsociable, he had incredible physical talent worth the title of genius and a serious and earnest attitude. His lack of social skills aside, he was a man above reproach and it was hard to believe he would accidentally be late for training. Kashin must have thought the same thing—just for a second, Yukiya could see his eyelids twitching. However, that proved insufficient to change his overall behavior.

“Evergreens and Saplings, you’re dismissed. Seeds, go search for 1-1’s Chihaya and bring him here right now. Don’t expect me to let any of you go until every single Seed is present here. Now go!”

Following Kashin’s orders, the Seeds scattered in all directions in order to cover the entirety of the Monastery’s grounds as they sought Chihaya everywhere. However, and despite their best efforts, the tower bell—which was supposed to ring once they finally found him—didn’t give off even the slightest sound no matter how much or how long they searched.

It was only when the Seeds had returned back to the plaza, having heard the dinner bell ring, that Chihaya finally appeared all by himself. The instant he caught sight of his fellow trainees, all beyond exhausted after ceaselessly running around the Monastery’s expansive grounds, he reacted immediately. He seemed to have realized what had happened.

The sun had sunk completely at the time, and their surroundings were getting darker by the minute. All the while, light leaked out from the dinner hall, filling the ravenous Seeds with a hopeless yearning.

“Where were you?” Kashin asked in an uncharacteristically quiet—yet all the more terrifying—voice. Chihaya, however, didn’t bother to answer. “Your fellow Seeds have been searching for you, screaming themselves hoarse for the last four hours, and they’ll have to join marching drills without even having dinner, all because of you. And yet you have no explanation to give them?”

The Seeds glared viciously at him, as if silently screaming for him to say something, yet Chihaya stubbornly kept his silence. Kashin sighed with annoyance and raised his head, returning to his usual yelling.

“Everyone, march to the swimming pond! Don’t even dare to stop until I say so!”

“I’ll take the lead.”

Everyone noisily turned around and started to run, none of them bothering to waste their breath by complaining. However, a storm raged inside them, heaping endless insults towards Chihaya. Their expressions, all similarly pitiful.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

“It’s all over. In more ways than one……”

“It’s all because Chihaya caused that freaking ruckus right before the exams.”

“If we end up dropping out, it’s all on him!”

Akeru watched his students with no words to offer them. The ten-day exam period had come to its end but, rather than relief at their freedom, the Study Group regulars were instead overcome with collective resignation about their grades.

“The worst part? Chihaya probably still managed to get good grades. It’s so fucking unfair!” Kippei spat out to Hisaya’s wholehearted agreement.

“I heard that he’s been punished with cleaning the Great Hall all by himself, but that’s not such a bad deal, is it? Compared to the harm he’s done to us.”

“Oh, on the contrary, there’s no bigger punishment,” interrupted a voice they weren’t used to. Before Akeru could even wonder who had suddenly talked, the study room’s sliding door opened with a loud noise. “Hey, Beans. What’s up with those miserable faces?”

“Sapling Ichiryuu!”

“Now what are you doing? Coming here out of nowhere. Plus, ‘no bigger punishment’?”

Shigemaru and Yukiya looked at the Sapling who had just arrived, putting on airs, with their eyes wide open. The intruder—Ichiryuu, apparently—laughed ominously. “He has until tomorrow morning to clean it, right? But, as a celebration for finishing the exams, the Evergreens are going to take everyone out to play tonight.”

“Play? What do you mean?”

“At this hour?”

Akeru checked outside the window—the sky was already turning the colors of dusk. Ichiryuu, on the other hand, seemed to be barely holding back his laughter at his juniors’ obvious and complete confusion.

“Ah, brats…… We’re going to a festival.”

“A festival, huh.” Now that was enough information for Akeru to infer the whole point of this little scene. He wasn’t the only one, either. While Shigemaru and the rest of the commoners were still looking blankly at Ichiryuu, Yukiya seemed to have realized the truth too—he had an odd expression on his face, as if barely forcing a smile.

“And it’s the very last day of a five day long summer festival. Truly worth lamenting Chihaya’s luck for missing out, trust me!”

“So,” an Evergreen came leading a whole group of people and yelled as he flared his nostrils, “it’s time for the Red Light District’s Red Lantern5 Festival!”

The Saplings and Evergreens all cheered in unison.

At first, Akeru, who had already experienced plenty of banquets at the Red Light District, couldn’t help but to feel second hand embarrassment at his fellow Seeds’ frolicking. The Red Light District proved to be certainly enchanting during festivals, however, and even Akeru, who was otherwise used to it, was soon taken by the beautiful sights.

There, luxuriously decorated buildings lined up on the mountain’s otherwise chaotically distributed slope and red, round garden lanterns hung in rows at both sides of every street and stair. There was a red lantern motif to all the shops’ ornamentation as well. To top it all off, light silks fluttered in the air here and there, all dyed in shades of beautiful vermilions and light greens.

Yet, no matter how much the first timer Seeds were willing to jump in instantly, the others didn’t give them such an easy time.

“Now, get rid of that stupid scarf!”

“I get you want to show off but wearing your feather robes is actually the key here.”

“Being recognized as a Monastery trainee gives you quite the popularity boost. They may even give you an extra or two arguing that ‘you can always pay it back later when you have the money’.”

“That said, they don’t like them smelling of sweat. Don’t you dare ruin your predecessors’ efforts to create this image of an upright, clean, gentlemanly trainee with a promising future.”

After passing their seniors’ strict checkup, they finally allowed the group to step into the Red Light District. Exhilarating melodies, evoking the dark of the night and romance, came from all directions; colorfully dressed, beautiful women gently danced to that same music on top of the stages built in each of the impressive buildings.

Some of the dancers seemed to have noticed them looking in awe as they would playfully wave their sleeves in their direction from time to time.

“I could die happy right now……”

“No dying, Shige.”

“Don’t stop, you idiots. You’re blocking the way!”

Shigemaru found himself in a dream-like state and was all too prone to stop moving in front of every stage. Every single time, Akeru and Yukiya had to somehow push the massive body in front of them and drag him away in order to advance.

“You know? It’s actually a shame Chihaya couldn’t come,” Hisaya said with a grin from ear to ear. He was greeting one of the dancers back.

“What? No, he got what he deserved,” Kippei argued back, his own excitement plain in his voice.

“But, now that I think about it, doesn’t it bother you? Where did that serious-to-a-fault Chihaya have to go that he was willing to break the rules?” Tatsuto asked, much to Akeru’s inward agreement. The fact of the matter was that they couldn’t find him no matter how much they searched the Monastery’s grounds. It was obvious he had sneaked out through some sort of unknown way.

Soon, however, others caught wind of their conversation and the topic fully shifted into frivolous theorizing.

“Maybe he had a family member in critical condition?”

“But, if that were the case, he could have just asked for permission, right?”

“Then what if it was to meet a woman?”

“That Chihaya? No way!”

“How can you say that? Those kinds of guys tend to have the dirtiest minds.”

“Hey, does a pure man even exist in this world?”

As if they had just remembered the place they found themselves in, those chatting burst with excitement.

“No way!”

“What a shame for you, Chihaya. We’ll have fun in your name as well!”

“No hard feelings!”

As it was the last day of the festival, the Red Light District was particularly packed with people. The group kept walking, going up the stairs to finally reach the plaza at the very center of the District, where a special stage had been built especially for the occasion. Dancers chosen from every brothel performed their long prepared act for the event as the singers and musicians lined up right behind them.

A huge shop stood right there, as if looking down on the plaza—Gazing Moon Hall, the seniors’ actual destination.

“Oh, it’s the young masters of the Monastery, welcome!”

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

The trainees closing off the exam period with a visit to the Red Light District was, apparently, a yearly tradition, and Gazing Moon Hall was the trainees’ current shop of choice. Which was why the shop’s staff had been waiting for them.

By some fortune, Akeru had been keeping his distance from his ogling friends—it was only thanks to that that he noticed Yukiya. He was also standing one step away from everyone else, just like Akeru, but looking in a strange direction. His eyes were fixed on the spectators surrounding the stage.

“What’s wrong?”

“...... Ah, nothing. Let's go.”

Before he even realized it himself, Akeru’s eyes searched the direction Yukiya had been looking in, soon understanding what had caught his attention. Despite the lanterns illuminating the stage blinding him, one single figure dressed in all black stood out among the colorfully dressed spectators.

“What’s that guy doing here……!?”

There was no mistaking it. There was Chihaya, the very person who was supposed to be cleaning the Great Hall at the moment, talking with someone, possibly a woman, with uncharacteristic intensity.

“Wait, Akeru!”

Yukiya tried to stop him, but Akeru ignored him. He bolted through the masses, pushing spectators aside as he closed in on the backstage with an angry shout.

“Chihaya! You damn shit, what the hell are you thinking!?”

However, just as Chihaya turned towards Akeru with a start, a hand came from behind and strongly blocked off Akeru’s mouth. “Hey, Chihaya. What a coincidence! I never expected to meet up in a place like this.”

Someone else brazenly greeted him instead—Yukiya. What the fuck was he doing? Akeru tried to get rid of his hand over his mouth, but it was to no avail. Yukiya’s grip remained firmly in place as he glared, for some reason, at Akeru instead of Chihaya, who looked clearly shocked. His gaze wandered as he stood there in silence.

“Who is there?” a beautiful bell-like voice asked. It carried surprisingly well, even among people’s chatter and the reverberating music.

Then, a figure peeked out from behind Chihaya. A woman, no—a girl, rather.

She was tiny. Her thin neck, arms and legs looked like they were about to bend and break at any moment. She wasn’t what one would call pretty, but she had a gentle look to her and a kind smile on her lips. Her round eyelids, shadowed by dark eyelashes, were softly closed, giving off the image of daffodil buds about to bloom.

Could this girl be some prostitute he frequented? Did that mean he had broken the Monastery’s rules, turning a blind eye to his position as a trainee, just to visit the Red Light District? And, on top of it all, he had the gall to ignore his completely deserved punishment to come here again? What a disappointment he had turned out to be!

Akeru had a mountain of things to say, but Yukiya’s grip on his mouth remained just as unforgiving and there was no way Akeru could be understood through it. Chihaya didn’t get a chance to answer either, not before someone else’s carefree voice interrupted the scene.

“Eh—? That’s Chihaya!”

“Wait a moment, what are you doing here!?”

Shigemaru and Ichiryuu had been the ones to speak. They had probably come back to check on them.

“Are they your friends?” the girl asked with a tilt of her head, pulling Chihaya’s sleeve.

The answer, however, didn’t come from Chihaya, but Yukiya. “Oh, yes! We are Chihaya’s peers and senior at the Monastery.”

Yukiya’s oddly kind behavior struck Akeru as suspicious at first. That is, until Yukiya turned to him and poked his own eyelid with his free hand. Suddenly, Akeru realized—the girl sticking to Chihaya hadn’t opened her eyes even once since their arrival.

She was blind.

Only the very best got to become prostitutes at the Center’s Red Light District. They were chosen for their looks during their youth, given a proper education and trained in the arts. They were, in a sense, just as talented and refined as the noble princesses of the Imperial Court. As far as Akeru knew, for the place to take on a blind girl was unheard of.

As the thought crossed his mind, Akeru also noticed the kimono she wore. It was comparatively nicer than what guests used, but all too plain and unadorned for a prostitute.

——In other words, she couldn’t be just some prostitute Chihaya liked.

Finally, Yukiya let him off. He had, it seemed, caught on to Akeru’s change of attitude. “Sorry for the commotion. He insisted that he wasn’t going to someplace like the Red Light District back at the Monastery so, well, it had been quite the surprise to find him here.”

Neither Shigemaru nor Ichiryuu chimed in beyond that, probably realizing as well that there was more to the situation than met the eye.

“Oh, I see!” the girl exclaimed in surprise before awkwardly bowing to them in greeting. “Nice to meet you, I’m Yui. Thank you for always taking care of my older brother.”

“Wait, wait, so you had a sister!?” Shigemaru looked back and forth between Chihaya and Yui, eyes wide open.

“...... Hey, by any chance, were you also visiting your sister last time?”

Chihaya didn’t bother to answer Ichiryuu's question, but Yui did. “He was. I usually live at the Ravine, so we don’t get to meet much… As I sing and play the biwa, they asked me for help with the stage during the festival. We were close by for a change, so I was selfish and asked him if we could meet. Don’t tell me… did that cause problems for you all?”

The girl had an uneasy look to her and, as if they had prearranged it all ahead of time, the boys answered in turn.

“Oh, not all.”

“Nothing like that, don’t worry.”

“Right, Akeru?” Ichiryuu’s warning was—as Akeru immediately realized—virtually a threat abusing his status as the senior.

Making use of all his self-control, Akeru replied as well, “It’s as they say.”

They all briefly introduced themselves afterwards. While Chihaya kept to his sullen silence, Akeru could actually tell it wasn’t born out of irritation. His fellow Seed was merely bracing himself and waiting for their reactions.

As Akeru pondered, wondering how Chihaya planned to get through the situation, Ichiryuu instead nonchalantly pointed towards Gazing Moon Hall.

“Guys, don’t forget we should be back. I’m sorry, Yui. Others are waiting for us, so we’ll have to take our leave now.”

“It’s fine. Sorry for keeping you all here for so long.” Yui bowed her head.

As she did so, Ichiryuu wrapped his arm around Chihaya’s neck, forcefully pulling their faces closer together. All to ensure that Yui wouldn’t get to hear his next words.

“We didn’t see anything. Good?” Ichiryuu whispered before instantly raising his voice again so Yui could hear him too. “Well then, let’s go. See you, Yui!”

Yukiya and Shigemaru also gave their farewells to Yui in a similarly amicable manner, all while they picked Akeru by the arms and didn’t let go.

As they all dragged Akeru in the direction of Gazing Moon Hall, Ichiryuu cleared his throat. “Now, what did you all see?”

“A lady on the stage.”

“She was quite the beauty.”

“Exactly. It was a dancer so beautiful that even Shigemaru and I, who came to seek you out, were taken by her.” Their wooden charade finished, the three of them simultaneously turned towards Akeru.

“Got it, Akeru? That’s all that happened out there.”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

After Yukiya and the others took off, Chihaya finally let out a deep sigh. “...... I’m sorry, they’re an unruly bunch and you must already be tired as-is today."

“I’m fine! Actually, I’m glad I could talk with them. I didn’t know you had such fun friends!”

“They aren’t my friends.”

“You’re saying that again? You really should stop being so stubborn,” Yui chuckled as Chihaya felt his chest tightening all too horribly.

He opened his mouth to retort back, but he wasn’t given the chance to do so. Someone with a similar outfit to Yui—another musician, most likely—came over at that moment, calling for her. “It’s your turn.”

Despite his reluctance to part ways, Chihaya helped to guide Yui towards the backstage. “I’ll have vacations from tomorrow onwards.”

“I know. You’ll be working as a live-in servant, right? Don’t forget to take care of yourself,” Yui responded with a smile—but she looked lonely.

“I’ll come visit as much as I can.”

“When?”

“Well, as soon as I can take time off.”

“I’ll be waiting then.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too, brother. Please, don’t do anything rash out there.”

Chihaya took Yui’s biwa, which had been left closeby, and passed it to her before sending her up the stage. The musicians waiting on top gave him a grateful nod.

Before Yui had even finished walking up the stage, Chihaya turned on his heels. Of all things, he hadn’t expected Ichiryuu and the others to find out. Still, while there was no way for him to ascertain their honesty, at the very least, they had promised to overlook it all. However, he had to return before any other trainees saw him there.

In order to avoid people’s eyes, Chihaya took the back alleys.

Soon, he left the main streets and the festival’s bustle was quickly replaced by silence. From the sight of it, the shops must have been using these backstreets to put away their usual front items for the duration of the festival. There were all kinds of things, from signboards to bamboo poles used to hang lanterns, littered over the street—even broken lanterns and plates had been left there.

As difficult as it would be to walk through the mess, he could still watch his steps thanks to the light coming out from the buildings. It was accompanied by the smell of oil and ingredients—the kitchens were, most likely, facing that direction. It was doable enough, Chihaya determined as he took a few steps.

He didn’t get too far, however, before the feeling of something lurking behind overcame him. He stopped.

——Someone was watching him.

He turned around as fast as possible, in time to catch sight of a shadow panickedly withdrawing behind a building.

“What do you want?” Chihaya asked and he heard the sound of someone gasping. Soon after, someone came out of the shadows with plain resignation—Akeru, who had supposedly left with Ichiryuu and the others a moment ago. “Tailing me?”

“I’m not that cheap. I just wanted to talk to you one-to-one, without anybody else around,” Akeru awkwardly replied.

“Talk?”

“Yes, exactly. I was initiated on physiognomy as part of my education to join the Imperial Court,” Akeru said as Chihaya looked at him with suspicion, wondering what he was trying to say. The expression on Akeru’s face turned sour. “That girl and you. You aren’t related, right?”

“...... What are you trying to say?”

“I can tell that much, looking at you two. You know, no matter how different people may look, if you’re related by blood, there’s always something in common. But that girl and you don’t have anything at all…… Everything about you two is different, from head to toe. Am I wrong?”

Akeru already knew Chihaya had a sister from the time his followers researched his background and checked his census registration, but Yui and Chihaya were clearly unrelated as far as Akeru could see. It made him question the legitimacy of that same census—or so Akeru explained to Chihaya.

“——You’re lying to us, aren’t you?” Chihaya did not answer. He couldn’t tell what Akeru was thinking.

Akeru’s shapely eyebrows crumpled into a frown. “To assume a false identity and come to the Monastery—what the hell are you planning by doing that?”

“That’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Now that I’ve learned about it, it does! Tell me why! I’ll have no option but to inform the Monastery instructors otherwise! So if there’s a reason, please, tell me!” Akeru’s beautiful face twisted into a grimace. “I don’t want to become your enemy, not if I can help it.”

“After all the sneaking and snooping around? Huh, Court Raven? Are you saying that now!?”

“Why are you still going on with shit like that!? If you aren’t going to give me any answers, then I’ll have to ask her instead,” Akeru yelled, all riled up, and turned his back to Chihaya.

That second, Chihaya undid the knot on his Ornamented Blade and took hold of the weapon, scabbard and all. There was no hesitation—Chihaya swung downwards the very next moment, aiming for the back of the head right in front of him.

The scabbard dug itself into the wall of the nearest building with a loud thump.

Right before the Ornamented Blade itself had made contact with Akeru’s head however, the boy had barely managed to twist his body out of the way. He stared at Chihaya with clear disbelief. “What did you…”

Akeru was probably too dumbfounded to even think about pulling his own blade, given the state he was in. A Court Raven like him probably couldn’t even conceive the idea of a Hill Raven actually pointing his weapon at him. They truly were just the same.

Anger boiled within Chihaya. Yet, at the same time, he was terrifyingly calm—he even had the composure to pity Akeru for his inability to at the very least counterattack in such a situation. Nevertheless, Chihaya moved to face the petrified Akeru and readied his Ornamented Blade once again for attack.

“Wait!” someone’s piercing yell stopped him. “Calm down, Chihaya.”

The voice’s owner leaped out from behind Akeru—it was Yukiya. He opened his arms, standing in front of Chihaya as if to protect Akeru.

“Get out of the way.”

“No way.”

“There’ll be no mercy for anyone who harms Yui.”

“And that’s not Akeru’s intention, much like how you don’t intend to kill him either, right? Now, calm down,” Yukiya said as he made an attempt to push down Chihaya’s weapon.

Chihaya shook him off by sheer reflex, breaking Yukiya's balance. The boy let out a cry as he stumbled and, much like most Yatagarasu would do in such a situation, he reached out towards Chihaya’s sleeve and grasped it with his hand.

——The next moment, Chihaya felt a tingle as the muscles of his entire arm contracted.

He didn’t even have enough time to notice the pain. Yukiya was already twisting his wrist before he could do anything, wrestling the Ornamented Blade off his hand. At that rate, he was going to be pulled by the shoulder as well. Chihaya didn’t even think about his next step—he kicked the ground. His body floated in the air for a second, gaining the rotational momentum necessary to break off Yukiya’s hold on him.

——This fucker.

The moment he landed, Chihaya made an attempt to strike Yukiya in the face with the back of his hand as he rotated, but Yukiya kneeled to dodge it. While he was avoiding Chihaya’s attack, however, Yukiya shrewdly tried to kick his legs and trip him, but it never happened—Chihaya leaped away. He backed down two to three steps to recover his balance and posture as Yukiya too tumbled backwards and instantly straightened up.

They wordlessly studied each other for a while, waiting for each other’s next move.

By that point, all excess energy had left Yukiya’s body. His stance wasn’t anything like what Chihaya had seen him use before at the dojo, but it undoubtedly belonged to someone with plenty of experience.

After that short pause, Chihaya went on the offensive.

He went for one straight punch, which Yukiya evaded with the palm of his hand, grazing Chihaya’s fist. Realizing that Yukiya planned to take hold of his arm once again, Chihaya used the momentum of the swing to go for a roundhouse kick to the head. Before it hit, however, Yukiya bent his upper body ever so slightly to dodge.

Chihaya’s balance was therefore broken, but Yukiya didn’t take the opening in front of him. Oddly enough, he immediately backed off.

Chihaya was now certain—Yukiya was, in fact, intentionally letting him attack first and aiming for the joints. He would fluidly dodge his attacks and, at the very next moment, go after the skinniest parts of the body in order to use a joint-locking technique. It was quite the distasteful method, but no less of a problem.

——For Chihaya, who heavily relied on strength for his martial arts, someone like Yukiya was the worst kind of adversary.

To top it all off, Yukiya’s eyesight seemed to be abnormally good. He didn’t even need to turn his head to read Chihaya’s punch, eye movements sufficed. Deep in thought, Chihaya tried yet another attack but, as he had expected, Yukiya blocked off all his attempts. Chihaya’s hits never reached their target in any shape or form.

They grappled again and again with each other and, whether he liked it or not, Chihaya started to calm down.

Now that he thought about it, there had been something off with Yukiya from their first encounter at the dojo. Yukiya had never gone on the offensive himself so he had lost every single time, but, if one were to look at it in another way, Chihaya hadn’t taken even one single clean point out of him either.

While someone weaker would have never noticed that, Chihaya did. He was more than used to immediately defeating most of his opponents. It was incredibly rare for him to struggle so much with getting points. Chihaya felt a shiver down his back. It had taken him way too long to realize, but Yukiya may well be the only one among the trainees that he couldn’t guarantee a clean hit against.

As he thought so, Yukiya almost grappled him again at the joints, and Chihaya clicked his tongue as he jumped back. They glared at each other—it was a deadlock.

At that moment, a fed-up voice echoed out of nowhere. “...... Are you happy now?”

Yukiya, who hadn’t spoken a word ever since he first stole Chihaya’s Ornamented Blade, forced himself to smile as he gasped for air. “Why would I be? I only wanted to talk from the beginning.”

“Don’t you lie to me! You’ve been enjoying this.”

“There’s not much leeway for enjoyment when you’re facing the Seeds’ best martial artist,” Yukiya answered and, with a deep exhale, he smoothly returned to his battle stance.

Even Chihaya was starting to find their whole situation thoroughly ludicrous. His gaze, which had been fixed on Yukiya during their fight, drifted to the side. There, sitting on some lumber lying between two shops, he found the speaker—an exasperated-looking Ichiryuu with his cheek resting on one of his hands.

“Yukiya! If you can move like that, how about doing it during class, huh?” an indignant Shigemaru, who was sitting beside Ichiryuu, complained right after.

“Don’t bother,” Ichiryuu added with resignation in his voice. “That right now is his specialty. He’ll feign weakness at first, letting his adversary do nothing but attack, thoroughly tiring the poor soul down, and then and only then he beats the shit out of him.”

The light in Ichiryuu’s eyes had vanished entirely.

“Ichiryuu, don’t tell me…” Shigemaru gasped.

“Yeah. I was once fooled by his looks back at home and picked a fight with him…… He beat me up so badly it changed my outlook on life.”

“So that’s why you acted like that at first……” Shigemaru’s words were full of sympathy. Yukiya’s Ornamented Blade rested ever so carefully in his hands.

——Yukiya meant him no harm, Chihaya had known that much from the start.

Behind Yukiya, however, was Akeru—still pale as a sheet, the boy had used the chance to run quite far away from him. While Chihaya had indeed calmed down, he hadn’t forgiven Akeru for what he had said to him. Chihaya ruthlessly glared at him, making Akeru jump on the spot as he trembled.

“It was his mistake to word it like a threat, but Akeru isn’t that bad of a guy. Here,” Yukiya took Chihaya’s Ornamented Blade, which he had tossed away as soon as he stole it, and offered it back to him. “It has to be his sister’s influence. Despite how it may have looked like, he’s actually quite kind to women.”

“You just had to ask him to not do it, really. I’m sure Akeru wouldn’t force Yui to answer any of his questions.”

“Ah, I understand you lost your temper, but don’t you dare to go hitting others with the Ornamented Blade! It may be shaped like a sword, but it’s not a tool to hurt others.”

Now, just how long had they all been listening in on the conversation? Yet curiously enough, none of them asked him for details. Chihaya, however, just didn’t find it in him to be bothered by the secret keeping anymore.

“...... Yui doesn’t know,” he murmured.

“Huh?” A bunch of stumped faces turned towards him.

“She doesn’t know. That we aren’t related by blood.”

Recommended: Winter's Young Tiger

Next: Chihaya (Part 2)

—————————————

1: In this specific scene, Yui and Kou are written in katakana (ユイ and コウ) instead of kanji. This can be done for a variety of reasons, including a representation of a character’s illiteracy. Overall, as a narrative tool, omitting kanji is used to express ignorance. To show a character doesn’t understand a concept and it’s all sounds to them, be it because it’s their first time hearing it or some other reason.

2: Land Sovereign is originally 博陸公 (Hakurikukou), a title crafted by using the kanji for esteem (博), land (陸) and duke/lord (公). Essentially, the Esteemed Lord of the Land.

3: For much of Ancient Japan’s history, calling someone by their name tended to be considered terribly impolite. While the women favored the use of Karina (借名) or aliases, between men the preferred method to avoid such disrespect was the use of honorific titles or sonshou (尊称). Much like in the specific case of Land Sovereign, these were directly associated with the man’s political position or rank most of the time.

4: The Red Lanterns here refer to a specific type of lantern, hoozuki lanterns (ほおずき提灯). They're named after their resemblance to ground cherries, also known as Chinese red lanterns.

#Translation: The Raven of the Empty Coffin #yatagarasu #yatagarasu series #the raven does not choose its master #karasu wa aruji wo erabanai

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