ZERO ONE: ONE HOPE!

Staring at the "Gear-Grind Goulash" served in the dented helmet bowl, Hariel felt a mixture of horror and intense curiosity.

Beside him, his new crew members stared at the dish with pale faces, as if they were looking at the most dangerous witch's brew.

"You're... not actually going to eat that, are you, Captain?" Hammer whispered, his eyes wide with horror at the shimmering metal shavings sprinkled over the greenish broth.

"Of course I'm going to eat it!" Hariel replied, patting his chest. "A true adventurer never fears a culinary challenge!"

With that conviction, Hariel took a deep breath, gathered his courage, then firmly scooped up the soup with his wrench-spoon and put it in his mouth.

A moment of silence. His crew held their breath.

The taste was... INCREDIBLY WEIRD!

But... somehow... DELICIOUS?!

There was a savory flavor, a little spicy, a little sweet, and... yes, that distinctive cold metallic taste that, strangely, added a unique sensation to his palate.

"This... this is actually pretty good! It's delicious, even!" Hariel exclaimed in surprise after swallowing his first bite. He turned to Bolt and the others, who were still staring at him with pale faces as if he had just ingested poison.

"Hey, you guys have to try this! It's so unique!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, offering his wrench-spoon.

Of course, not a single one of them moved.

Seeing his crew's horrified reaction, Hariel just shrugged and returned his focus to his bowl. He devoured the "Gear-Grind Goulash" with lightning speed, no longer caring about the food's strange appearance or the disbelieving stares of his crew.

After the helmet bowl was scraped clean until it shone, Hariel exclaimed with satisfaction.

"Okay! Stomach full, energy back at full power! Now, let's continue the adventure and find some information about... huh?"

Just as he stepped out of the creaking tavern door...

BAM!

He collided with someone who was rushing from a narrow alley. Both of them fell.

Thick books and rolls of paper filled with complex sketches scattered around them.

"Ouch... sorry, I didn't see you!" Hariel rubbed his head. When he looked up, he saw a young girl in a black robe, her hood having fallen back slightly.

He caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes that looked sad and full of worry.

However, the girl's face itself was stiff, almost expressionless.

"S... sorry..." the girl said, her voice soft, yet flat.

Hariel fell silent. Something pierced his heart seeing that combination—eyes that screamed of something, yet a face that was frozen like a mask. A strange feeling, an odd pull that made him feel as if the emptiness on her face was a silent cry for help.

A cry that, for some reason, only he could hear.

"Are... are you okay?" Hariel asked, his concern genuine as he started to help pick up the scattered books.

Before the girl could answer, a rough shout was heard from the end of the alley.

"THERE SHE IS! GET THE GIRL! DON'T LET HER ESCAPE AGAIN!"

Several large, burly men in black suits ran towards them.

The girl's face, which had been blank, now hardened. Without another word, she turned and ran like lightning, disappearing among the narrow alleys of Junkyard Junction.

"Hey! Wait!" Hariel shouted, but she was already gone.

The men in black suits now stood before him, blocking his path.

"You! Kid! Where did the girl go?" one of them asked harshly.

"Girl? What girl, sir?" Hariel put on his most clueless expression, driven by a strange instinct to protect the girl he had just met. "I didn't see any girl pass by. Only a pile of rusty bolts."

"Don't you try to lie, kid!" the agent snapped. "She's a dangerous fugitive!"

"I wouldn't know, sir," Hariel answered casually. "Besides, why is she being chased like that? She seemed like a perfectly nice person."

"You punk, stay out of adult business!" the agent threatened.

"Dangerous?" Hariel chuckled softly, a challenge in his eyes. "I actually like dangerous things!"

The agent growled in anger, but his partner held him back. "Forget it, don't waste time. Let's go after her, she must still be around here."

They then hurried off, disappearing into the crowds of Junkyard Junction.

Hariel still stood there, staring down the alley where the girl had vanished. The faint, soft scent from her robe still lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the surrounding smell of oil and metal.

"Captain! Are you okay?!"

Bolt's anxious voice brought him back. His entire crew had now run over to him, their faces showing concern.

"Who were those men in black suits? They looked dangerous," Grease asked, her eyes warily watching the direction the agents had gone.

Wrench ground her teeth, brandishing her large wooden hammer angrily. "Tch! We should've just roughed them up! How dare they yell at our Captain!"

Hariel turned to his crew, a small, knowing smile on his lips at their fiery loyalty. "It's fine, it's fine. It's not a big deal."

Although he said that, his mind was still fixed on the girl.

The pendant on Hariel's chest felt warm.

"Not a big deal?" Lumi's voice sounded cynical in his mind. "You just interfered with mysterious agents for a girl you don't even know. You really have a hobby of looking for trouble!"

"But... I had to help her, Lumi," Hariel whispered softly, his gaze returning to the dark alley.

"Help her with what? You don't even know her name!"

"I don't know," Hariel mumbled, ignoring the confused looks from his crew who saw him talking to himself. "But there's something about her... I don't know what, but I feel like I have to."

His gaze was still locked on the dark alley. A new resolve began to form, a new question that demanded an answer.

Who is she, really?

Suddenly, before he could take a step or his friends could ask any more questions...

BOOOOOOMMMMM!

A massive explosion shook the entire district, perhaps even the whole of Gizmograd.

The floor trembled violently, nearly knocking Hariel and his crew off their feet. Glasses on the tables of the nearby stall fell and shattered. People on the street screamed in panic, running for cover.

From a distance, a thick plume of black smoke billowed high into the sky, turning the calm dusk into an apocalyptic scene.