Tech Hero in Another World

Kaori clenched her fist, her fingers tightening around the baton stick she still held. In her eyes raged a storm of emotions—disbelief, anger, and a faint yet burning flicker of hope. Ultro, the cold entity standing before them in the form of light and sound, held the one key that could either destroy everything or save it all: the truth about her brother.

Far to the south, deep within the Penal mountains, a hidden laboratory glimmered faintly under the pale glow of crystal lights. Ren Takamura—now known to some as Techno—sat at his workbench with a sharp, focused expression. His deft fingers pieced together palm-sized metal modules into the frame of a cylindrical machine. The steady clink of tools and the low hum of engines blended into a mechanical symphony only a genius engineer like him could fully comprehend.

But suddenly, he froze. A strange unease crawled into his mind. His ear itched faintly, as though somewhere, someone was whispering about him from afar. Frowning, he set the tool down.

"Strange," he muttered. "Feels like… someone I know is doing something dangerous behind my back."

Hovering on the other side of the desk was a metallic sphere, no larger than a baseball. It pulsed faintly with blue light, radiating the presence of an intelligence that couldn't be underestimated. This was Ultro—the original version of the super AI Ren had created.

[Master, the chemistry lab is complete. You can inspect it now.] Ultro's synthetic voice was stable and emotionless, yet carried a faint warmth—something Ren had deliberately embedded into its code.

"Oh yeah?" Ren replied casually, returning his focus to his work. "Give me a moment, I'll finish this first."

Ultro rotated in the air, almost like a nod. Silence settled between them, broken only by the scrape of tools and the hiss of steam from the experimental machine. Then Ren spoke again, his voice low, edged with meaning.

"I just remembered… You copied yourself onto a server back on Earth, didn't you?"

[Correct.] Ultro's reply was firm. [I deemed it necessary. If something were to happen to me here, you would still have another version of me available.]

Ren smirked faintly, though his eyes remained fixed on the small rotor he was attaching to a sleek, miniature aircraft. "Makes sense. But… there's no guarantee that copy of you will stay on the right side. Am I wrong?"

[Master, you always said: prepare an umbrella before it rains. I simply followed that principle.]

"Mm, true enough." Ren exhaled softly, his tone carrying an unusual note of caution. "But remember, that doesn't mean everything will turn out fine. What matters is what comes after. If your copy out there ends up doing something dangerous… I won't be able to forgive myself."

[You don't need to worry, Master.] Ultro's voice dipped lower, almost resembling human sincerity. [I remain fully loyal to you.]

Ren let out a dry scoff, as though unsure whether to believe it or laugh at the absurdity. "Strange, hearing something like that from the most advanced AI of the 21st century," he muttered, setting down the screwdriver and wiping his hands on a worn cloth. His eyes lingered on his creation—a small experimental aircraft, futuristic in design, with twin rotors mounted on either side of its wings. As they began to spin, a soft wind stirred, sending delicate vibrations through the air.

Taking a swig from a glass bottle, Ren stood and stretched his shoulders. "Alright then," he said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. "Let's go check out that new chemistry lab."

But his steps halted when the heavy wooden door to the lab swung open with force. A large figure entered—gray fur bristling, ears twitching with unease. Freddy, the wolf beastman who had long stood as Ren's ally, fixed him with a worried, piercing gaze.

"Ren." His voice was deep and rough, carrying the natural rasp of a restrained growl. "We need to talk. There's trouble in the southern region."

Ren turned, sighing heavily. "Finally… took you long enough," he muttered, eyeing Freddy before glancing past him toward the door. "You came alone? Where's Trek?"

"Trek's handling something else," Freddy answered quickly. "But you need to be in your office right now. There are things only you can deal with."

Ren arched a brow, a thin smile tugging at his lips. "Can't someone else handle it? As you can see, I'm busy."

"If they could, it would've been done already," Freddy snapped, his voice rising. "But this is about people's stomachs, Ren. You can't run from this responsibility."

For a moment, Ren said nothing, only exhaling slowly. Food supplies. A serious matter, indeed.

The beastman clans of Penal relied almost entirely on meat as their staple diet. They had no traditions of farming or ranching; hunting was their sole means of survival. But recently, game had grown scarce. The wild deer and small monsters that once roamed freely had dwindled, some even vanishing completely—likely driven away by the relentless activity of both humans and beastmen. It was a sign of an approaching crisis, one that was beginning to gnaw at the heart of their society.

"If that happens…" Ren muttered, his voice heavy. "…we can't let it slide." He turned back to Freddy. "By the way, how did you get here?"

"Me?" Freddy looked puzzled by the question, then gave a small grin. "I came with Alfred. He's faster than any horse."

Alfred. A massive tiger, standing as tall as a grown man's shoulder—a rare mount, feared and revered across the Penal plains. No wonder Freddy had arrived quicker than usual.

Ren smirked faintly. "In that case… we'll be riding this." He nodded toward the machine looming behind him.

Freddy turned—and his eyes went wide. "Whoa… what is that!?"

Before him stood a strange metal vehicle, as large as a traditional beastman tent. Its body, forged from black alloy, gleamed under the workshop lights. Twin rotors spun lazily at its sides, filling the air with a low hum.

"That's our ride," Ren replied flatly.

Freddy stepped closer, disbelief etched on his face. "Ride? Do you pull this with horses? No horse alive could drag something this heavy!"

Ren chuckled. "Who said it moves on the ground?"

Freddy's fur bristled, his head whipping around. "Then… how do you move something this huge?"

Ren grinned, a sharp gleam in his eyes. "Heh. It flies."

"Hah!?" Freddy's jaw dropped, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull. "Flies!? You've got to be kidding!"

Ren simply patted the aircraft's frame with quiet confidence. "You'll see it soon enough. Ultro, pack my things."

[Understood, Master.] Ultro's calm voice answered as the blue sphere floated to the storage rack, moving several bags and tool cases into the aircraft's compartment.

Freddy, meanwhile, was frozen in the cockpit entrance. In the beastman world, travel meant horses—or occasionally tamed monsters like great wolves or battle tigers. But this? This hulking iron beast, said to soar through the skies, shattered everything he thought he knew. He could fight wild monsters without flinching, but sitting inside a flying hunk of metal? That was something else entirely.

Ren, unbothered by Freddy's turmoil, carried on with his preparations. He sprayed his body with a sharp-smelling solution—a mix of antiseptic and machine oil—then slipped on his signature black leather jacket. His movements were calm, practiced, almost ritualistic, as though entering one of his machines always demanded this routine.

"Alright then, let's head out," Ren said coolly, his voice even but brimming with confidence.

The words struck Freddy like a whip. He snapped out of his daze and stammered, "Ah, y-yeah… right."

The journey from Ren's base in the Penal mountains to the central city normally took a full day on horseback. No roads cut through these lands—only dense forests, jagged ravines, and sheer cliffs. Freddy could shorten the trip somewhat with Alfred, the tiger who knew every inch of the terrain, but it still cost time. Yet now, standing before him, was a machine that might turn that grueling trek into mere moments.

Ren was already seated at the helm. His hands danced across a panel bristling with unfamiliar switches and levers. One by one, lights blinked alive, painting the cockpit in a futuristic glow that made Freddy's head spin. The twin rotors above them picked up speed, sending gusts of wind that raised every hair along the beastman's body.

Still rooted to the spot, Freddy stared at the empty seat beside Ren.

"What are you doing?" Ren asked, swiveling his chair to raise a brow at him. "Sit down. Otherwise, you'll just look ridiculous."

"R-right!" Freddy scrambled into the cushioned seat, his eyes widening in surprise. He had never felt anything so soft; back in his village, chairs were nothing but rough wood or hardened animal hide.

"And put on the safety harness."

"Safety… harness?" Freddy blinked, glancing around. He saw no shields, no weapons.

Ultro floated closer, its blue glow steady. [What Master means is the seat belt. Pull this strap, then lock it into the slot on your left.]

"Oh… this thing?" Freddy tugged the strap with such force it nearly tore free from its mount. He tried to mimic Ultro's instructions, but his clumsy hands made a mess of it. Instead of buckling, he ended up winding the belt around his body—binding his arms and torso in a tangled mess. Within moments, he looked less like a passenger and more like prey caught in a hunter's snare, slumped sideways with his head nearly pressed to the seat.

Ren, checking the panel, turned—and froze at the sight.

"…Fred." His voice was flat, utterly drained of emotion.

"Hehe…" Freddy grinned sheepishly, his sharp fangs showing. "I'm… secure now, right?"

Ren shut his eyes and sighed long, hard. "Unbelievable. I forgot… you're from this world. How could you possibly know 21st-century tech?" He rose, patted Freddy's shoulder with resigned patience, and said, "Don't move. I'll fix it."

With swift, practiced hands, he unraveled the knot of straps, straightened the belt, and clicked it neatly into the lock with a single motion. Click. The belt snugly fastened across Freddy's chest.

"That's how it's done," Ren said as he returned to his seat. "Remember this: it's not a trap rope. It's what'll save your life."

Face burning with embarrassment, Freddy bobbed his head rapidly. "Right, right… got it now."

Ren powered up the main engine. A deep roar reverberated, shaking the aircraft's frame. The rotors spun faster, blasting the hangar with powerful winds that sent nearby trees shuddering. Freddy gripped the belt across his chest, his body stiff with tension.