Gun Girl from Another World

Chapter 4

Perspectives

*Leuke*

Oh man, this is going to be great!

The world has five new Heroes! FIVE! And I'm one of them!

Captain's gonna be so surprised!

... Oh, shoot, wait, no, Captain's gonna be pissed! I was supposed to be on the wall last night!

Oh well, it's not like it's my fault. It'll be fine. She'll understand.

... I'm so dead.

I suppress the urge to gulp and turn toward the others. We're all wearing the same blue-gray robes. I can't wait to get into some proper armor again, but at least we look like part of a unit.

And everyone looks super strong! Benny's a spellcaster and really smart. I'll bet I can count on him to know all sorts of useful things. And Tash gives me feelings of danger. Normally, that'd just make me want to spar with her, but down in my gut, I feel like that'd end with a dagger in the back, and I always trust my gut.

Fortunately, she also has this really strong Big Sister feeling to her, like I can really count on her support. A lot like Captain, actually. I bet they'd get along.

... They'd probably also put me to work twice as much.

Then there's Sei. I, uh ... I don't really know what to make of her. She doesn't seem shy about standing around us or afraid of doing Hero stuff, but I just don't get a Warrior Spirit sense from her. Maybe she's some sort of caster, too? She seemed to understand what Benny was talking about with all that outside the essence stuff pretty well.

But then, so did everyone else, come to think of it. Maybe it was just me that couldn't keep up.

Rem, though, wow, she's gonna be something. I just know it. The brains of a caster and the spirit of a warrior. And at level one, she had Benny spitting tea! That was hilarious! I thought he was choking at first, but he was fine!

Pity about her weapon. I don't know what I'd do if I was told I could never have a sword in my hand again. Probably just pick up a big club, but it wouldn't be the same.

I deliberately put an extra pep in my step. Like everything else, I refuse to let this get me down. We're Heroes! It's a problem we can solve, because there's no such thing as a problem Heroes can't solve! We'll find one of these guns, or find someone who can make one, and that'll be that!

*Tassim*

That idiot is grinning like ... well, an idiot.

I spend a moment wondering if his lack of Intellect might be contagious somehow, disappointed in my turn of phrase, but I resist the urge to check my status.

He means well, I'm sure. As annoying as he can be, I've spent my life in places where malice is so thick that you can taste it in the air. I can say with absolute certainty that there's not a drop of it in him.

He's like a child. In both the good and the bad ways.

He'll be an ideal Hero, no doubt. Strong, pure, driven by his convictions and principles. The Heavens chose well with him.

... No clue what they saw in me.

To my credit, when I first woke up in that temple and realized I'd been uplifted, not a single thought in my mind went to what unimaginable wealth I could steal with the power of a Hero.

... Because I was too busy thinking of all the revenge I'd be able to take.

Being around the other Heroes this morning was like a cleansing rain to my heart. They're all such good people.

I want to protect them. And maybe I can learn to follow their example.

*Seina*

I'm scared silly, but I do my best not to show it.

Maybe scared isn't the right word. It's just a review, I'm not actually in any danger.

Nervous, that's the right word. Yes, I'm nervous silly.

I toss aside how stupid that sounds as I try to keep pace with the other Heroes. The boys in particular have such long strides that the entire group is a step faster than I'm really comfortable maintaining.

Even the level one girl looks like she's keeping up better. But then, it's not like we're actually moving down the corridors quickly. I'm just short.

It's the problem a child has in keeping up with adults.

No, that thought gets shoved aside, too. Down that path lies bitterness and self-pity. I'm a Hero now, and by the grace of the Heavens, I will act like it!

... It's probably a combat trial. That's what it's going to be, isn't it? Oh golly, there's going to be fighting ...

I toss that thought with the others, then soon after it, the thought about how big that pile's getting.

I'm good enough with a mace or hammer, and maybe they'll give me a shield, too. Yeah, that would help a lot. Just no armor. It never fits well and is always too tight in all the wrong places.

And hey, if anyone does get hurt, well ... that's exactly why I'm here, right?

My gaze slips to Remmi, though I doubt she notices. She's going to stick out so much with that golden hair. And from somewhere outside of the World Essence, too. I hadn't even thought such a thing was possible.

It suddenly occurs to me she's only wearing a torso wrap without leggings. Surely she understands the concept of pants, right? Oh gosh, and I can't mention it. If I do, I'm either going to sound like an idiot or I'm going to embarrass her ...

No, she must understand it. After all, she did the same thing I did and went as high in size as she could. Except she was covering thighs instead of ... well ... T-the ropes are a pretty neat look, anyway.

It probably has to do with her class. The instinctive recognition of incompatible clothing makes trying to wear something that would hinder you uncomfortable. If she can't wear the baggy pants or the longer robes we were provided with, this really may be the best she could do with what she had.

My mind goes back to her 60 health. If it really is a combat trial, she's going to be the most in danger of getting hurt. That redheaded mountain will probably be fine if they hit him with a ballista, but she could go down from a bad stab wound.

I'll have to make sure I'm ready to support her.

*Benarou*

My mind is still reeling from what I've learned. It wants to quit and shut down, like an overfed glutton ready to sleep it all off.

I refuse and push it on. I need to make sure I understand it all.

I'm accustomed to being the smartest person in most any room. I'm not being vain, either. My parents were disappointed when I refused our family's traditional role as diplomats, but they supported my quest toward magic all the same. I received the best tutors money and station could acquire, and I burned through them like a wildfire.

The day I became a battlemage and I could finally see all of that hard work as an actual, quantifiable number, I was praised as a genius and a prodigy for how high my Intellect was.

It wasn't half of Remmi's, and she isn't even a caster.

I had pestered her with as many questions about her education as Leuke did about her weapon, maybe more. The worst part is that she doesn't know enough of what's normal in this world to lie, so I have to assume every answer was true to the best of her ability.

Otherwise, I'd have never believed a word of it.

From her appearance and behavior, I had first guessed she was a minor noble and thanked the Heavens she seemed to be of the rare humble variety. I had more than my fill of the more common haughty variant back home. Commoners, at least, don't tend to judge you unless you go around with your nose up in the air.

When she said she had been classless, I immediately changed my estimation to a middle class merchant family, but I pushed my luck too far in asking so blatantly. My mother would have slapped my knuckles with a ruler for such a rookie mistake, even as a grown man.

But no, this yellow-haired foreigner is no merchant, nor artificer, nor alchemist, nor any other such respected field. She's all of them.

Or could be.

According to her description of her people's education system, she would actually still be a student, yet she already has the training to walk into any master's place of business and demand to be named their top apprentice.

Every child in her culture is taught far more than just letters and numbers. They learn mathematics that would put a merchant to shame, literature that would put a noble to shame, natural sciences that would put an alchemist to shame. And, yes, though it pains me to admit it, world history and politics that would put a diplomat to shame. Even her understanding of anatomy would flummox a healer.

Within moments of Leuke's questioning, she'd shown even a comprehension of engineering that weaponsmiths would kill their firstborn for. With a simple ease and in short order, she was able to describe for us the design and mechanics of one of these guns.

All I can say is that her people's skill for artifice is terrifying. What she described was beautiful in its simplicity, nightmarish in its implied capacity, and utterly impossible for anyone but a master to reproduce.

And then she turned around and asked him what alloy his sword would be made of. Alloy. Like she expected the concept of blends and carbon content to be common knowledge. Of course, the poor fool couldn't answer, and I had to step in to do it for him.

The next line of questioning, of course, had to be how they afforded such a system. The whole reason so few people learn more than the absolute basics is because there's no time. Education is a luxury because it's expensive and offers so little direct benefit to the common man.

Given the choice between working the field to raise food so you can actually eat and spending money you don't have on tutors that aren't there for knowledge that won't feed you, the outcome is obvious.

I should have expected it, but the answer came back to their terrifying skill at artifice. They built constructs that worked the fields for them. One man could thus run an entire plantation by himself and still have time for recreational pursuits.

Of course, they applied this solution to everything else, as well. They employ no lamp-lighters, no street sweepers, not even any criers. Everything is handled, more or less, by their constructs.

Their clothes are made and washed by constructs. Large portions of their meals are prepared by constructs. They replaced horses with constructs. Long distance communication was solved by constructs. They chart the paths of the heavens with constructs. They even use constructs to make their constructs!

The result is that everything that once was expensive has become incredibly cheap. Commoners live in mansions and eat like kings. Thanks to mass production, even the constructs, themselves, are easily affordable.

Virtually every home has independent control over its own interior temperature, hot water on demand, servant constructs for washing clothes and dishes and cleaning floors, food preservation constructs and multiple means of long-distance communication, usually for simple entertainment.

Wherever she came from, I want to see it with my own eyes. It sounds like a fairy tale.

... And all of that free knowledge makes my brain feel like an empty stomach all over again.