6

As the sun peeked between majestic cumulonimbus clouds in the azure sky, a refreshing breeze blew across the parched land. These were the Driftweed Plains of Tochigi. This plateau lay to the north of Imihama. The driftweed from which the area derived its name was a kind of algae that floated through the air and flourished in the spring and summer months. At night, it used energy gathered from the sun to emit a gentle bioluminescence that was quite remarkable to see and brought comfort to many weary travelers’ hearts. Unfortunately, such sublime pleasures were of no interest to the likes of a certain roughneck outlaw.

“Thank goodness. It looks like they’ve left us alone,” said Milo.

“Then gimme some space! What are you, a starfish? God damn, it’s hot enough out here as it is…!” replied Bisco, mopping his sweat with his sleeve. Not only having to contend with the oppressive summer sun beaming down on the fresh grass underfoot littered with the remains of rusted old cars and tanks, but also the warmth radiated by the hovering driftweed, Bisco was sweltering under the layers and layers of heavy clothing he was forced to wear.

“I estimate that, thanks to your medicine, Pawoo has approximately three months to live. However, Jabi’s case is considerably worse. Even if he stays within the walls, I’d say he’s looking at another month at most.”

Bisco shot a glance back at Milo that made him start with fright, then nodded for him to continue.

“If, as Jabi said,” he went on, “the Rust-Eater exists somewhere in the unexplored regions of Akita, we won’t make it in time on foot. Unfortunately, it’s not possible to get there by car, either, and the Vigilante Corps will catch us immediately if we try to use the Imihama highway…”

“You think I don’t know that? You really think I’d come out here without a plan? You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

“…Which means you must have something in mind, right, Bisco?”

Bisco swore under his breath and took a folded-up map from a pouch on his belt. As Milo peeked over his shoulder, he pointed with a scratched finger.

“The Ashio Bonecoal Vein comes down just north of here. The longest minecart rail goes all the way to Yamagata. If we use it, the trip shouldn’t take us longer than a couple days.”

“The Ashio Bonecoal Vein…” Milo grew concerned. “You mean to take us through that place? Bisco, we can’t! It’s too dangerous!”

The Ashio Bonecoal Vein was Japan’s largest source of bonecoal, a new type of fuel that appeared shortly after the Tokyo Disaster. Formed of tin, black coal, and other minerals that were altered by the Rust Wind, bonecoal found common use as a power source these days. There were many theories as to the origin of its name, including that its pale-white appearance was reminiscent of bone or that it grew out of the skeletal remains of Tetsujin after it was destroyed.

In the past, prefectures such as Tochigi, Niigata, and Fukushima fought bitterly over the rights to mine the rich veins, but as they dug deeper and deeper into the mountain, they encountered more and more mutated creatures, toxic gases, and explosions until they were forced to cancel all operations in the area and withdraw. Now it only stood as a natural powder keg riddled with holes and minecart tracks, waiting for one spark to blow the lid off the whole thing.

“I heard a swarm of ironrats can strip a man to the bone in ten seconds flat! I know you’re strong, Bisco, but what can the two of us hope to do against that?!”

“Who said it was just gonna be us two?”

“Huh? Well, who else…?” Milo asked. Then he realized Bisco was not fully paying attention, instead peering around carefully at his surroundings. “Say, Bisco? What are you looking for?”

“Our third member. Ah, found him.”

Bisco whistled with his fingers, and all of a sudden the ground before them erupted as a giant crab burst into the air and stood before the pair, blotting out the sun. Showing off his brilliant-orange shell, he raised his claws into the air in such a majestic display he seemed powerful enough to slice a car in two.

“W-waaah!” Milo jumped behind Bisco, who gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“You idiot, he’s a friend.”

Bisco walked happily up to the giant crab and brushed the sand off his carapace. The crab did nothing and simply let himself be groomed. Seeing this, Milo began to relax, staring at the beast in amazement.

“Th-this crab is your friend, Bisco?”

“He’s my brother,” Bisco replied, leaping atop the creature’s back. He’s a steelcrab. Name’s Actagawa. I had him take the long way east around the city. He doesn’t like the heat, so I figured he might hide underground. Finally found him.”

As its name implied, the steelcrab was a species with an incredibly tough shell. Because of their hardiness and agreeable nature, steelcrabs were once used as animals of warfare by vigilante outfits along the coastal regions, and Actagawa had apparently come from such a lineage. They had excellent mobility, able to traverse mountains, wetlands, and deserts even while loaded down with cannons and machine guns, and their tough hides and sharp claws made them fearsome in combat, too. At one point, they were thought to be invincible weapons of war. However, it was very rare to see them in use now, owing to a ridiculous story about an Okinawan crab brigade that, while en route to Kyushu, encountered a freak storm that drove hundreds of wheatshrimp to shore. Unable to resist the sight of their favorite food, the crabs all jumped into the sea, never to return.

“The creatures that live in the mines won’t attack an enemy their teeth and poisons don’t work on. With Actagawa, we can go anywhere, and he can carry way more than a dump truck. You’d better start getting used to him, ’cause he’s our secret weapon.”

Milo took another look at the crab, and although his left claw looked particularly menacing, he couldn’t help but find his somewhat drowsy face and the way he idly picked at the ground rather endearing. He timidly approached and accepted the arm Bisco was offering, whereupon Bisco pulled him up and into the saddle on his right.

“Wow! Ohhh my goodness!”

From atop the crab’s back, Milo could see far out across the sea of lush green driftweed. The wondrous view so delighted him he completely forgot his own fear, and he leaned forward to peer down at Actagawa face.

“My name’s Milo Nekoyanagi! Pleased to meet you, Acta—”

But before he could finish his introduction, the crab extended one claw and, grabbing Milo by the scruff of his neck, launched him with an almighty throw far off into the distance.

“Waaaghhh!” screamed Milo as he arced through the sky.

“Aaagh! Actagawa?! What the hell are you doing?!” Bisco descended from his mount and ran toward the spot where Milo fell. He found him lying in a pile of thick grass and driftweed, and while he appeared physically unharmed, it was clear from his blubbering the amount of mental damage he had taken.

“…He hates me.”

“…Kch. Kah-ha-ha-ha!”

Bisco couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the sound of his partner’s sulky voice. When Milo shot back a menacing glare, Bisco quickly cleared his throat and said, “Don’t get your undies in a twist. He’d do the same if anyone he didn’t know tried to climb on his back. He’s got his own sense of pride to contend with. You’re both just gonna have to get used to each other; that’s all.”

“So it’s about which will give out first, his pride or my neck; is that it?”

“You sure do talk back a lot for a panda…”

Bisco folded his arms and appeared to think for a moment, before Actagawa strolled leisurely over to his side. Bisco looked back and forth between the luggage on his back and Milo’s lab coat and gave a single nod.

“In any case, we can’t cut through the mines if Actagawa won’t let you ride him. All right. First things first, we’ve gotta do something about your appearance. Actagawa never did like doctors…”

Bisco gave Milo a pair of pants and a tunic made of starfish skin and soaked in mycelium—and a pair of viperskin boots. At the belt around his waist he wore a medicine pouch filled with vials of mushroom poison, two lizard-claw knives, and two pouches filled with various other tools. With a quiver stuck in the belt to act as a sheath for his sword, and a well-worn hideshroom cloak around his shoulders to protect his whole body from the Rust, Milo looked every bit the part of a full-fledged Mushroom Keeper. He seemed significantly more dashing in this outfit than in his old lab coat, and even Bisco was a little taken aback by how natural it looked on him.

In truth, Milo was a lot stronger than Bisco gave him credit for, mostly from having to deal with his sister all the time, and he was more than capable of riding the giant crab. Saying this, Milo beamed and hopped atop his back.

About three hours later…

“Whoaaaa! Stooooop!”

Milo shrieked for the however-manyth time as he was tossed through the air and landed in the driftweed. Bisco glanced over and shouted some friendly advice as he tended to a small fist-size pot over an open flame.

“If you tense up when turning corners, he can feel it, and he gets mad! You’ve got to trust him; don’t try to force him!”

“I understand, but it’s haaard!”

“Well, the rest will come with practice. It’s okay; I believe in your neck bones! You can do it…probably.”

Milo’s face was covered in dirt and scratches from his many tumbles, and he was dripping with sweat. Still, he hauled his slender body up to Actagawa’s saddle and took the reins once again.

I wish you’d come up here and show me how to do it, though!

Milo directed a nasty glare toward Bisco, who was apparently going for the hands-off approach to teaching and instead was occupied with some sort of bonfire. Then he cast his eyes forward once more just in time to see a small figure with a large pack walking steadily down the road. Just as Actagawa was about to bear down on them, Milo seized the reins and shouted.

“Wah! A person! Actagawa, stop! Wh-whoa! Whoa there, I say!”

As Actagawa screeched to a halt, Milo was flung forward, narrowly avoiding being dashed against the hard stone road and, instead, landing softly in a patch of floating driftweed.

“Owww! Actagawa, y-you’re too fast!” said Milo, massaging his sore flank, when he suddenly remembered the figure he had seen and sprang to his feet. Or at least, he was about to, when he spotted a girl standing over him.

“Ah. Morning, sleepyhead,” she said. “Thought you were a goner for a sec there.”

“Oh, I do apologize!” cried Milo. “Are you hurt, miss?”

“I should be asking you that, shouldn’t I?” she said, before looking over her shoulder at Actagawa. “Whatever. This crab of yours is, like, so cool. I’ve never seen anything like him!”

Suddenly, the girl practically leaped into Milo’s arms, stroking his pale skin and looking up at his face with her large amber eyes. She was a rather small girl with shockingly pink hair tied up in braids that bobbed and swayed like the tentacles of some deep-sea creature.

“Well, now! You’re a real cutie, aren’cha? Mind if I call you Panda, big boy? Those crabs don’t come cheap; I bet you make quite a bit of money, huh? Hey, is there a Mrs. Panda?”

A shiver ran down Milo’s spine as the girl whispered in his ear. He desperately shook his head. “N-n-n-no! You misunderstand! Actagawa’s not my crab! He’s a…um…friend…of my partner!”

“Tch. Why are all the good men taken? You’re no fun.” The jellyfish girl slipped free of Milo and began examining the giant crab, twiddling a pink braid around her finger. Before long, she broke out in a dastardly grin and turned to Milo, who was eyeing her curiously.

“Hey, Panda Boy. You trying to break this puppy in? There’s a better way, ya know, one that doesn’t involve you eating dirt. You’re supposed to burn yuzu incense; it calms the crab down, and after that, he’ll let you ride him around all you want.”

The jellyfish girl took a yellow vial from her breast pocket and held it toward Milo in her long, thin fingers. Undoing the stopper, she let the fragrant, citrusy scent of yuzu waft out.

“Wow! S-so there is a better way! I knew there must be!”

“Indeed there is, my friend. What a shame it is to see your beautiful face covered in nicks and bruises when all you need is a little bit of my incense! Now, let me show you how it’s done!”

“Wow, thank you! Ah, but…I don’t have very much money on me…”

“Heh-heh-heh… Keep your money!” The girl’s amber eyes gleamed like those of a cat. “We have to help each other in these trying times! The only thing I value…is simple human kindness.”

Roughly half a kilometer away, Bisco was staring intently at the small iron pot before his eyes. The red liquid within simmered gently, and when it reached the appropriate stage, Bisco added a pinch of green spores to the mixture. After watching the concoction develop, he took out several metal arrowheads and dropped them into the liquid one by one. It was a very primitive method of mixing potions compared to Milo’s machine.

Bisco made it look easy, but any slight error in the mixing process could cause the mushrooms to sprout immediately with disastrous consequences, and so Bisco handled the apparatus with the utmost delicacy. His concoctions in particular were created to maximize the force behind the fungi’s sudden growth, so it was dangerous for anyone other than him and his master to even touch them.

In return for that risk, Bisco’s poisons were of the highest quality and came with all sorts of unique effects. In particular, the King Trumpet combined the explosive power of a boomshroom with the elasticity of an eggshroom to provide a powerful launching platform. It was Bisco’s greatest invention, and even Jabi was impressed by its ingenuity.

What Bisco had absolutely no talent for, however, was making medicine. To heal people (and crabs), it was necessary to have a good sense for what effects the chemicals had on the body. No matter how much Jabi lectured him on the matter, Bisco was only ever capable of producing extremely potent serums that seemed just as liable to stop the heart as they were to save anyone’s life. Thus did Jabi throw his hands up in the air without ever imparting to Bisco any more knowledge of the theory of medicine.

Bisco removed the arrowheads from the pot once the mixture had sufficiently stuck to them and decided to test one out by hurling it at a nearby tree. There was a Gaboom! Gaboom! as, one after the other, beautiful red mushrooms burst from the tree’s bark and unfurled their thin caps in a shower of spores. They were red oyster mushrooms that would take root even in the dense ore veins of the bonecoal mines.

“Hmm… That should be good enough, I think.”

Satisfied with his efforts, Bisco extinguished the bonfire, when—

“Heeelp! Crab thief!”

It had been a while since Bisco had heard Milo’s voice. But when he realized what he was screaming, his body tensed up.

“Crab thief…?”

He looked in the direction of the voice to see Actagawa running around recklessly in all directions. There in his saddle was a strange girl with a heavy pack. Milo himself was clutching on to the crab’s huge claw for dear life as Actagawa shook him up and down violently.

“Y-you tricked me! Let go of him! Give him baaack!” yelled Milo.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say! Listen, Panda, it ain’t my fault we’re living in such hard times! Just give up and let go already!”

From far away, Bisco could just about make out the utter chaos of the scene.

“What the hell is that idiot doing?”

Having seen enough to figure out he needed help, Bisco drew his bow and launched a shot toward them. Pchew! It landed directly in a piece of driftweed floating at around the height of Actagawa’s saddle, before rapidly growing with a Gaboom! into a cluster of clamshell mushrooms that knocked the girl clean off and sent her rolling down Actagawa’s side.

“Gyaaah!”

As the jellyfish girl tried to make her escape, Bisco cut off her path with his subsequent shots, hitting close to her feet and causing the ground to erupt into clamshell clusters.

“Who do you think you’re messing with?” he yelled. “You wanna become crab food, huh?!”

“Gyaaah! Waaah!” The jellyfish girl went running for her life, disappearing into the distance before it was even clear whether she heard Bisco’s threats. After a short while, Actagawa, deprived of his rider, calmed back down and returned to Bisco’s side, depositing Milo onto the ground. Milo tried to wipe the dirt and driftweed off his face, letting out a heavy fit of coughs.

“You idiot! How did you manage to—?”

Bisco was about to launch into a tirade when he saw Milo on the verge of tears, his dejected face covered in cuts and bruises, and decided not to say any more.

“B-Bisco… I’m so sorry… I…!”

“It’s fine! Don’t apologize… You ain’t gonna last much longer today. Let’s get moving.”

“N-no! We don’t have time! I need to learn how to ride him as soon as possible…”

“Not in that state you don’t. You’re standing like a deer who’s just been born. We’ve still got tomorrow; you just rest and heal your wounds.”

“…Okay.”

Then Bisco furrowed his brow and began pondering their next move. In truth, he knew it was impossible for Milo, green as he was, to learn how to ride a steelcrab in such a short time. Even among the Mushroom Keepers, there were many who didn’t have the mettle for it, and some even resorted to using drugs or hypnosis to make the crab easier to control.

I could never do that to Actagawa, no matter how much of a hurry we’re in, Bisco thought. As he glanced over at Milo, he noticed that the doctor was carrying what little baggage he had in his arms, heading over in Actagawa’s direction.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Actagawa. Hold still, and I’ll give you some medicine,” he said, pulling out a purple vial from his pocket. Seeing it, Actagawa reared up in fright, displaying his fearsome claws in a menacing display of power that put even Bisco on edge. But Milo didn’t so much as flinch.

“You mustn’t bluff!” he shouted. “Your muscles will grow weak if we ignore it! Now, stand up straight!”

Bisco looked on in shock as Actagawa lowered his mighty claws. Milo smiled and rubbed the crab’s white underbelly.

“That’s right! Well done! Now, sit!”

Actagawa slowly relaxed before bending his legs and sitting down on the floor. Milo wiped his serum over the creature’s joints, producing the fragrant smell of herbs. Afterward, he pet the crab and looked back at Bisco to see him wide-eyed in amazement.

“I’m sorry. I was riding him around so recklessly that he strained some of his muscles. But I’ve applied a little moonwort, so he should heal while we’re on the move!”

Didn’t I tell you to heal your own wounds? Bisco thought, walking over with a curious expression and watching him along with the now-calm Actagawa.

“How come you can do this, but you can’t ride him?”

“Hmm…?” Milo responded. “…Do what?”

“…Heh. Ha-ha-ha! Ah, forget it.”

Bisco let out a chuckle and leaped up onto Actagawa’s saddle, reaching his arm out to Milo. Milo took it, and Bisco pulled him up into the passenger seat. As Bisco took the reins, Actagawa began walking, and Bisco muttered something to Milo.

“I’m changing the plan. You don’t need any more training. You’ve got talent.”

“Whaaat? B-but you saw what happened! I can’t ride him at all!”

“But you can talk to him. That’s the first time I’ve seen someone talk to a crab before they could ride one.”

Actagawa ran through the desert on his eight giant legs. His temper was replaced with a strange serenity, and his discomfort at the new stranger sitting atop his right shoulder was all but gone.

A pair of enormous tank barrels stuck out of the roof of the ruined temple, pointing toward the sky. The carcasses of armored vehicles littered the temple grounds, overgrown with moss and ferns that now glowed with a faint light in the darkness of the night.

“This temple is called Nikko Sencho-gu,” said Milo to Bisco from atop Actagawa. “It was made to enshrine all the tanks and engines of war that were destroyed when the Rust Wind came. Look, see that gate? It’s made out of gun barrels.”

“What’s that statue?” asked Bisco. “By the gate. Looks like three monkeys in a line.”

“They are the three idols known as See No Evil, Hear No Evil, and Speak No Evil. They embody the Vigilante Corps’ three tenets of blitz warfare. I was told they inherited them from the old Tochigi military.”

“Huh. You sure know a lot.”

“That’s because I went to school.”

“Right… Wait, you callin’ me stupid?” roared Bisco before turning his attention back to the structure of the temple. The iron was pristine and free of rust, but there were no signs of human habitation, and even if the temple was still in use, it didn’t look as if a bunch of armed monks were about to jump out of hiding and attack or anything.

“Okay, let’s camp here for the night,” he said. “The Ashio mines are just a bit farther on. Make sure you treat your own wounds tonight and not just Actagawa’s. Got it?”

“I’ll be fine! I’m a man, too, you know!”

“The smell of blood attracts rock mites. They like to burrow in open wounds; it hurts like hell.”

“Oh… I-I’ll patch myself up, then…”

Leaving Actagawa to sleep in the courtyard, the two entered the main shrine. There in the darkness, they suddenly caught wind of a burning smell and saw the faint glow of a fireplace.

“Someone’s been here before us. Wait here,” said Bisco, pushing Milo back with one hand and drawing his bow. Then he slowly began moving closer to the flames. As he did, he spotted a figure with a familiar head of braided pink hair, swaying unsteadily in the darkness.

“…Huh. Looks like that crab jacker from before. Hey, you. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Uh… Ug… Uh… Kuh… Kuh. Uh… Geh…”

“Hmm? Now that I think about it, didn’t I see you back in Imihama, too? Have you been following us, trying to—?”

As the girl turned around to face Bisco, he stopped. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, her face was coated in beads of sweat, and she was producing strange, guttural sounds quite unlike any words he had ever heard. Something was very wrong.

“What the hell…?!”

“Bisco, get away from her!” Milo ran up to the girl and slapped her hard on the back. There was a sticky, wet sound as she vomited up a strange white liquid, mixed with blood. Milo gave her a couple more slaps to clear her airways, then he took out a syringe filled with a green liquid from the pouch at his waist and, without hesitation, stuck it into the pale skin of the girl’s throat. As the liquid flowed into her, she became more and more unstable and began shaking violently.

“Watch out, Milo! She’s possessed!”

“There’s something in her stomach! This is going to get messy…!”

After injecting her with his muscle relaxant, Milo took a deep breath and kissed the girl right on the lips.

“Mmph?! Mmmmph!” The girl squirmed, her eyes open wide, and as Milo sucked in with all his might, something began to rise up the girl’s throat, bulging through the skin of her neck. When Milo felt it enter her oral cavity, he bit down on it, hard, and pulled as strongly as he could. Some sort of white bug emerged from the girl’s mouth, about the size of a two-liter bottle. Milo wrenched it free from her throat and spat it onto the ground, where it glistened in a pile of mucus and blood and emitted a shrill squeak. It wriggled across the ground with surprising agility, trying to flee, before Bisco gave it a good kick, and it flew across the room slamming hard into one of the shrine’s pillars, where it fell to the floor, unmoving.

“What the hell was that?”

“A balloonworm,” said Milo, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “They used to use them on slaves so they wouldn’t run away. They make you swallow the eggs, then keep you on an antidote that prevents them from hatching. Nowadays, they’re reserved for prisoners…”

“…Or the governor’s special task force?” said the jellyfish girl angrily as she coughed up the last of the fluid. “I wondered what that weird stuff he was making me drink was. Now I know I should have stuck to normal jobs. That bastard…!”

“Here, drink some water. You might still feel a little nausea, but you’ll be okay now.”

Milo smiled pleasantly at the girl as she gulped down the drink. Soon the color slowly returned to her face, and she calmed down a little.

How can he make a face like that at someone who made such a fool of him earlier? she thought.

Bisco looked at Milo and nodded—either in satisfaction or displeasure, it was hard to tell. Then he walked up behind the pink-haired jellyfish girl and delivered a swift kick to her backside.

“Gnyaagh! Wha—? A-Akaboshi! What are you doing here?!”

“Don’t give me that. First thing outta your mouth should be sayin’ thanks to the good doctor here for saving your life!”

“…Heh. Oh, I don’t think so. I know what you boys want, running to the rescue of a girl out here all by her lonesome…”

The jellyfish girl wiped the gunk from her mouth and brushed her hands over her bare shoulders.

“…You catch my drift? That kiss was, like, amazing. I thought I was gonna drown. But I don’t come cheap, y’know. You gonna pay for that, Panda Boy?”

“…Whaaat?! No, I… I didn’t know that was…!”

“Gosh, you’re so darn cute! It’s fine as long as I’m your patient, right? Doctor…I think there’s another one of those bugs squirming around inside me…”

As the girl pressed up against him, Milo was at a loss for words. As he blushed and stammered, his partner came to his rescue.

“Check yourself, lady! Nobody wants to feel up your scrawny-ass skeleton body anyway!”

“Shows what you know, Akaboshi. I’m worth a lot more than you might think. Hee-hee-hee, I didn’t realize the Man-Eating Redcap was such a virgin…”

“…Whoa, Bisco, calm down!” Milo clung to Bisco in desperation, trying to prevent him from grabbing his bow. Bisco’s eyes were wide, and his hair bristled with rage. “You’re scaring me, Bisco, stop!”

“But she’s a psycho! Aren’t you pissed off at her, too?”

“Shh.” Milo put his finger to his lips and turned to the girl with a smile. “Hey, listen, miss. Am I right in assuming you’re a merchant? We don’t have very much food, you see. Would you mind sharing some with us?”

The jellyfish girl blinked a few times in surprise, staring blankly at the carefree face of the doctor she had tried to swindle not too long ago.

“Wait… Are you guys really not after my body?” she asked. “If all ya wanted was my stock, you coulda just waited for me to die and then helped yourselves to a five-finger discount.”

The two boys looked at each other for a second, then spoke.

“Huh. I didn’t think about that—”

“Wh-wh-what he means is: We didn’t think about material goods when someone’s life was in danger! Isn’t that right, Bisco?”

Bisco shut his mouth and adopted a grumpy silence as Milo secretly pinched his wrist beneath his cloak. Taken aback by the bizarre duo, the jellyfish girl heaved a deep sigh before dropping the flirty act and plopping down onto the ground cross-legged, her head in her hands, looking on in amusement.

“Looks like I’ve been rescued by a couple o’ wusses. I dunno if that’s a good thing or not. I guess the whole ‘sex sells’ thing isn’t true when you’re dealing with hopeless virgins!”

She shook her head in despair. The girl was like a completely different person without her earlier behavior. She spread a red cloth across the ground and lit a lantern, before quickly laying her merchandise across it. Even Bisco forgot his anger when he saw the wide variety of items she had in stock and leaned in for a closer look.

“Welp, I guess that just means I get to show my business chops! Welcome, both of you, to Jellyfish General!”

“Jellyfish General? That’s pretty funny. Is that your name?” asked Milo.

“Oh, my poor, sweet Panda Boy. No merchant in their right mind would give people their name in this day and age,” said the jellyfish girl, twirling a braid in her finger. “It’s my hair. Don’t you think the braids make me look like a jellyfish? This is so my customers have an easy time remembering me. Hence the name.”

“…Just like ya said, you got all sorts of crazy stuff here. Holy shit, this wine says it’s from 2017! Is this real?!”

“I specialize in weapons and military schematics, but I have plenty of food for sale, too! How about this? One-hundred-percent pure scorpion nectar; it’ll melt your tongue right off! Oh, I’ve also got this—vanilla vodka from Weeping Solomon Brewery… Perhaps it’s a little early for you boys to be enjoying this, though!”

Bisco’s eyes sparkled as she showed off the goods one by one, until a tug at his cloak from Milo brought him back to his senses.

“Hey, we don’t want any of your fancy stuff; we just need some food. You got any charcoal toast, salted mochi, anything like that?”

“…Salted mochi? I ain’t running a food bank out here!”

Seeing the merchant girl’s face twist in disgust, Milo hurriedly looked around for something to change the subject, before spotting a pile of biscuits in the corner of the spread.

“Look, Bisco! Butter-flavored Biscos! You must like those, right? Let’s get them!”

“…Nah, I’ve never had ’em, actually,” replied Bisco, looking quite embarrassed. “I’ve seen ’em before, but they’re kinda hard for Mushroom Keepers to get ahold of, so…”

“Your name is Bisco, and you’ve never had Biscos…? Milo looked as if he was about to faint from shock, then quickly broke into a smile. “Well then, we’d better buy some! This will be your first time! Excuse me, how much are they?”

“Those old things? Four sols each.”

“What?! You’re still trying to bleed us dry?!” roared Bisco in anger.

“Of course I am! The bow is your weapon, right? Well, mine’s the coin!” The girl’s pink braids bounced as she shoved her face toward Bisco’s. “And anyway, you owe me! If you weren’t so damn strong, I’d have collected your bounty already! So stop being stingy and pay up!”

Her argument was so outrageous it actually sounded sort of convincing. As the two looked at each other, the girl snatched the bills out of their hands and tossed the box of Biscos toward them before folding away her shop in disappointment.

“What a boring trade. I can’t even sell you fuel ’cause you’re on a crab. I’m going to sleep. Touch me, and it’s a hundred sols—got it?”

The girl went over to the entrance and emptied a container of expired liquid bonecoal on the ground outside.

“Nobody wants to touch your stingers, you damn jellyfish!” said Bisco.

“I’ll allow a fifty percent discount just for you, Panda Boy.”

“Go to sleep already!”

Bisco glared daggers at the girl as she pulled the empty container back inside. Suddenly, he felt Milo tugging at his sleeve.

“There’s no use getting mad, Bisco. It’ll only make you hungrier. Here, have one of these!”

Milo took out several Biscos from the box and placed them in Bisco’s hand. Bisco looked down at Milo’s sparkling eyes and, unable to argue, gingerly put one in his mouth.

“How is it? That’s what you were named after! …Is it not what you expected?”

“I thought they’d be…y’know, harder. They’re supposed to make kids big and strong, right? I figured they’d taste more…nutritious, like bear liver or something.”

“Ah-ha-ha! Of course they wouldn’t taste like that; they’re snacks! So do you like them?”

“Yeah, they’re not bad,” Bisco replied, munching on them with unusual speed, reaching for a second box, then a third. “…So this is what you city folks eat all the time…”

“H-hold on, Bisco! Slow down! Save some for me!”

“How come? I’m bigger than you are. Obviously, I should get to eat a little more.”

“Wasn’t it you who said we were equals?!”

Bisco cut back on the teasing and handed over half the remaining biscuits to Milo, nibbling on the rest sparingly. Milo looked over at him with a smile and began to eat them one by one.

In the middle of the night, Milo carefully got out of bed without waking Bisco and made his way to the courtyard where Actagawa was sleeping. There he was, slumbering under the dazzlingly moonlit night.

“…What amazing resilience. You’re no ordinary crab, Actagawa.”

To have struggled alongside Bisco for all these years, he must surely have been a hardy creature indeed. Milo silently ran his fingertips over the crab’s joints to check the status of his tendons. All of a sudden, Actagawa awoke and slowly rose to his feet.

“Ah…! Sorry, Actagawa, I didn’t mean to wake—”

Milo stopped midsentence as he realized Actagawa was behaving strangely and strained his ears to listen. There was a distant rumbling coming from far below, and soon he felt the ground shake.

“Earthquake…? No, that’s not it…!” As Milo looked back toward the temple, the flagstones of the floor split open, and great gouts of steam erupted from the cracks. Then the entire temple began shaking as it gradually rose off the ground.

Milo let out a scream. Unable to keep his footing any longer, he collapsed against Actagawa’s legs. The giant crab lifted him up in one claw and placed him atop the saddle, before launching himself away from the temple and onto the moss-covered floor below.

Then, as Actagawa struggled to regain his balance, they saw it. Before them was a pair of enormous eyes, their yellow gleam piercing the dark of night like car headlights. Two forelegs the size of tree trunks struck the ground, sending the rusted vehicles that were piled there flying into the air like so many scraps of paper.

“The temple’s alive!” shouted Milo as he shook with fear in Actagawa’s saddle. “They didn’t just worship weapons here; the temple itself is one giant animal weapon!”

It was most similar in appearance to a hermit crab, but it was about three times the size of Actagawa, who was already twice the size of a human. It was a monstrous weapon, like a battleship.

It charged, tearing up the land in its path, and Actagawa barely managed to dodge it. The “temple” seemed uninterested, as though it had a destination in mind, and began moving toward it.

“Bisco! Actagawa, Bisco’s still inside!”

Actagawa raced after it before Milo even finished speaking. For the first time, the rookie Mushroom Keeper and the seasoned veteran were united in purpose. And what speed! For a second, Milo felt as though he were riding a roller coaster rather than a crab. It was all he could do to simply cling to the reins in terror. As Actagawa kept pace with the temple, Milo could see the remains of the memorialized tanks that covered his body. One by one, they turned their turrets to face him and fired off a volley of shells. Actagawa leaped forward and sideways, evading them all.

“Look out, above us!” shouted Milo, and Actagawa swung his mighty claw, deflecting one of the shells. It exploded, taking out several tanks.

“Gyaaah! No, no, no! Don’t leave me behind! I don’t wanna diiiie!”

“Grrr, let go of me, you idiot! Dammit, how are you so strong?!”

“Bisco? Is that you? Where are you, Bisco?!”

Milo spotted Bisco atop the roof of the main shrine, his red hair and cloak fluttering in the moonlight. There at his feet, the backpack-laden jellyfish girl clung on for dear life.

“Milo! This thing’s a Coal-Eating Shrimp! It’s woken up because of the fuel this jellyfish girl threw out last night! If it makes it to the Ashio coal mines, it’ll blow the whole place up, and we won’t be able to use the minecart!”

As if responding to his voice, the tanks’ machine guns pointed at Bisco and fired. Bisco tucked the screaming girl underneath his arm and leaped away, dodging all of them, but the surprising force with which she clutched onto him caused him to lose his balance and fall off the roof.

“It’s no use. I can’t fight this thing and look after the jellyfish! You’re gonna have to stop it somehow, Milo!”

“Stop it?! How am I supposed to stop something this huge?!”

“Crack his skull open!” As a tank turret turned toward him, Bisco fired an arrow to block the barrel, causing it to self-destruct. “If you can rattle his brains, it might just stop these tanks as well! Use Actagawa! Smash him in the face with his claw!”

“That’s too hard! I barely know how to ride him!”

Bisco was about to respond when a tank turret swung around. The last thing Milo saw was Bisco moving to protect the girl, before he was engulfed in a cloud of white smoke.

“Aaagh! Biscooo!”

There was nothing more frightening than being in such a dangerous situation without his partner to guide him. And yet Milo suppressed the fear threatening to overwhelm him. He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

Bisco said I have to stop it. He knew I could do it. He had faith in me… Okay, Bisco. I’ll do it. Just you watch!

When he opened his eyes, they burned with newfound determination. Placing his cheek on Actagawa’s back, he gently brushed his finger over the giant crab’s head.

“Actagawa… This is his weak point,” he whispered. “If we hit him there, Bisco can take care of the rest… Actagawa… Do you think you can do that for me?”

A single bubble rose from the crab’s mouth and burst before Milo’s eyes. Milo wasn’t sure, but it seemed to be a sign of Actagawa’s approval. Suddenly, there was an explosion as a tank shell impacted the ground. Milo pulled the reins, steering Actagawa toward it, and the crab launched his enormous body into the air. Landing directly on the temple roof, Actagawa quickly made for the main entrance and, with a swing of his claws, lifted the towering gate of gun barrels clean out of the ground.

“Yes! Go, Actagawa!”

Actagawa sprang up, past the newly formed cliff, all the way to the Coal-Eating Shrimp’s forehead. There, he turned and swung the gate like a colossal ax, smashing it between the creature’s eyes!

It was a blow like out of a monster movie, and steel and shell alike splintered. The impact threw up a cloud as the giant shrimp staggered back, raising its mantis-like forelegs in defiance. Then a figure ran up the shrimp’s claw, bursting out of the cloud with a flash of red hair!

“Bisco!”

He somersaulted through the air silhouetted against the silver moonlight, throwing the unconscious girl toward Milo and drawing his bow while still upside down.

“What did I say?” He grinned. “You’ve got talent.”

Milo caught the jellyfish girl just as Bisco fired his first shot. A red streak flew through the air and embedded itself within the crack opened up by Actagawa, deep inside the creature’s brain. The mycelium spread out of the hole and across the shrimp’s body, and then huge redcaps burst into being all over. Gaboom! Gaboom! Gaboom!

Bisco fell down and landed in Actagawa’s waiting saddle, then the group speedily made their escape from the rampaging monster. Hiding beneath a red oyster mushroom on a nearby hillock, they watched the creature’s final moments.

“…That was close,” said Bisco when it was all over. “Another half a kilometer, and he and the whole bonecoal mines would have been blasted to smithereens.”

“Haah…haah…haah… Bisco…,” said Milo. Finally becoming aware of just how much the ordeal exhausted him, he drooped his shoulders and fought back his dizziness. “Do you always have to fight creatures like this?”

“Nah. I never fought a living temple before.” Bisco gave a carefree laugh, as if unfazed by the battle. “But there’s always scarier foes on the horizon. That’s just our fate. The fate of Mushroom Keepers.”

“…I’m not sure that’s the fate of every Mushroom Keeper; just you…,” muttered Milo softly. It seemed as though Bisco didn’t hear him, for he pointed at the Ashio mountains that towered before them and said, “We can see the entrance to the mines from here. That’s where they collect all the bonecoal and where we’ll find the minecart. Tomorrow we’ll ride Actagawa over there, and then—”

Bisco was cut off by a boom, like a clap of thunder. The two peered over their shoulders toward the source of the sound and saw the great shrimp that had been Nikko Sencho-gu. In a final swan song, it had lifted its largest cannon into the night sky and fired.

“…Ah.”

The smooth jet-black projectile arced through the sky and fell toward the Ashio mountains, toward the place Bisco had just been pointing at, toward that powder keg, and impacted the earth like a meteorite.

Kaboom!

There was an earth-shattering explosion, and Milo and Bisco were struck by a wall of sand and hot air that sent their cloaks fluttering.

“Aaarghhh! Dammit! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“There’s boulders raining down from the sky! Come on, Actagawa, we have to get out of here!”

From atop Actagawa, they watched as the entire mountain burned, fueled by the enormous stockpiles of bonecoal within. The flames cast a scarlet glow into the night sky, causing dozens of explosions as they spread.

“Dammit! We were so close! Now we’ll never be able to use the minecart!”

“Bisco…”

Milo stopped Actagawa in a safe place and, not knowing how he should respond, simply looked at Bisco with sympathy. However, Bisco’s lament lasted all of five seconds.

“…Welp, it’s not like it’s impossible now. If the minecart doesn’t work, we’ll just have to find another way through.”

Bisco took a deep breath, puffed out his chest in anger, and glared at the burning mountains.

“Besides, as long as the mushrooms keep eating up that oversized seafood, then all the rust around this area should disappear. That should please the old man more than your life ever did.” Here Bisco turned at last to the huge creature, which by now had breathed its last and returned to nature. His glimmering emerald eyes twinkled. As Milo watched him in profile, he felt a deep pain lurking beneath Bisco’s stoic facade. He searched for some consoling words, but in the end, he was unable to think of anything appropriate to say.

The sun’s light warmed his eyelids. Bisco gave a low groan and slowly rose to his feet. Scratching his belly, he looked around with tired, droopy eyes. The grasslands twinkled in the summer sun, and clumps of verdant driftweed floated steadily in the breeze.

“Ah, Bisco! Good morning!” Milo tidied up the insect-repelling incense and hurried over to Bisco. “How are your wounds? …Hmm, they seem to be healing up nicely. Let me know if they get swollen, okay?”

“Erm, what about the jellyfish? Was she, ya know, hurt?”

“Just some scratches, but she’ll be fine. I’ve already tended to her. I’ll go and check on her now!”

Bisco scratched his neck at the unfamiliar sensation of Milo’s bandages. Then he heard the all-too-familiar sound of Milo’s scream.

“Ahhhh! She’s gone, Bisco! And she took all my money!” said Milo, rummaging through Actagawa’s saddlebags. “Ooh… It’s a good thing we agreed to split our money between us.”

“She can’t have gotten far. When I catch her, I’m gonna make her into seafood.”

“Ah, Bisco, wait!”

Fishing around in the saddlebags, Milo suddenly pulled out candies, beans, and other preserved foods. Finally, he came upon a single scrap of paper and showed it to Bisco with an awkward smile.

ATTN Man-Eating Redcap and company. A sum total of eighty-seven sols and seventy sen has been extracted as payment for foodstuffs provided.

In the corner of the handwritten receipt, a note in rounded letters with a lovely chocolate heart read: PS: Panda Boy, if Bisco dies, come team up with me, okay?

“She picked out quite a lot for us,” said Milo. “And here I called her a thief.”

“Forcing us to buy her junk’s not much different!” Bisco huffed and leaped atop Actagawa behind Milo. Then he noticed that Actagawa was used to Milo, and he wasn’t throwing him off like before.

“…?” Bisco looked questioningly at his partner’s face, rudely monitoring him. While it was clear Milo had taken efforts to treat it, his face was covered in small nicks and bruises, and his eyes were evidently baggy from lack of sleep.

“When did you…?”

Milo, upon realizing his face was being scrutinized, froze and held his breath, and his gaze wandered. It was obvious to Bisco that Milo had spent the whole morning struggling with the unruly Actagawa—and that he had finally won the crab over after being thrown to the ground god knows how many times. As Milo hurried to hide his cuts, Bisco laughed, tickled by the doctor’s strange sense of pride that caused him to hide the marks he ought to have been proud of.

“Heh. Heh-heh-heh…”

“Wh-what’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing…!”

Bisco lashed the reins once. Actagawa saw that, beside his smiling master, the novice he had trained with since dawn was sitting with a somewhat dissatisfied expression. Nevertheless, the steelcrab moved his eight legs into gear and set off leisurely over the grassy plains.