Play with Mad Scientists!

For Yunzuka Apricot, the mediocre routine was only painful. The pain reached its peak when she was sixteen, and she was saved by falling into the back street. There were many of her companions there.

Always next to the danger of life, but here you can spell poetry with your own soul.

Apricots asked for more stimulation. I asked for the case.

He wanted to meet, he wanted the truth above all, and he chose the path of being a freelance informant.

Getting closer than anyone to the truth that people could not know, seeing it and feeling it and knowing it became the greatest joy of apricots. Moreover, it adds a lot of value and brings income and appreciation to the apricot. Apricot thinks there is no such vocation.

Apricots divide their work into three kinds. Work with eyes and feet. Work with eyes, mouth, ears, head and face. And work with arms.

It is my job to use my eyes and legs to take myself to various places, but this is not all. Actively go to dangerous places and stock up on information that no one can know on a daily basis. I stick my neck in anything that interests me at all or a possible case behind it. Also included is the act of obtaining confirmation of the information bought.

Buy information from backstreet acquaintances or other informants, or exchange information or share it free of charge. Purchasing information online is the job of using eyes, mouth, ears, head and face.

The last thing you do with your arms is this is a rough thing when you need it. It is a bad area for apricots.

Currently, Yunzuka Apricot is twenty-three years old. Seven years into this world. would enter the domain of veterans. There have been several times in my life-threatening eyes, but I still live like this now, and my reputation as an informer is quite good.

One day in the winter, apricots were fishing for information online in a room in an underground residential neighborhood in Anle City.

It's a cramped room that seems to be the cheapest rent. The concrete on the walls is also badly damaged. It is a room with only the minimum necessary for life and work, not caring at all about the interior and so on in the killing landscape.

Apricots rent some of these rooms and live their days rolling over them. It is rare, but the address where the location is known has been immediately removed.

The outfit pays the utmost attention to mobility. Always in a suit knitted with bulletproof fiber. It is always an easy to move slack down there and skirts never fit. I can't even pump. A combination of sneakers in a suit has been defoed for seven years.

I don't want to waste my time, so I finish my makeup quickly.

When it comes to the only pleasure of change on the outside, it's about sunglasses. I collect more than two hundred sunglasses and wear something different every day.

A peek into the mailbox contains a number of emails from some of the freelance informants and intelligence organizations who are gracious and seek to trade in information. There are naturally requests from outside of them.

Among them, there was the most familiar name, so click on it first.

When I opened the email, only the date, time and place were written. It describes the time and place of direct negotiations.

I also give the sender of the email the number of my cell phone, so I think Apricot can use that, but they have a lot to think about, and I guess it's a doctrine that doesn't do that. It's the same thing that apricots roll over without setting a place to live, or only ask for mobility in their outfits. Caution, vigilance, rationality, the uniqueness of this world's inhabitants have their own thoughts and creeds.

"Even if it's my closest friend."

Apricots whine in his voice. The date and time were referring to seven o'clock this night. Where it falls is almost certain to be safe for the people behind this city.

White space.

A world where everything was made of white. Walls, ceilings, floors, desks, chairs, beds, conditioning, even dishes, politely. also clothing given to the inhabitants housed there.

That was where they were parted from the inmates and those who controlled them. But it is not a prison. Whoever was put there was used for a purpose.

Miho Hashimoto only came here when he was seventeen years old.

I don't know exactly how much time has passed since I came to this place. It's a place where there's no clock. The bedtime is not particularly set either. If there is a call, it is suddenly woken up. Meals somehow tell the day and night. But perhaps more than three months have passed, Miho thinks.

Mustard engine - that's the name here. Government-held training facilities for the more capable. It is, of course, a secret facility, and those who know its existence are rare even residents of the back streets.

Miho was the eldest daughter of twelve brothers, a family rare at this time.

This is the result of a bastard father who drank it for me and encouraged me to make a child unplanned without doing much work. His father had nothing to do with waving or arousing violence, but he was a person who had no idea what he was thinking, just a man who drinks even and tries to seek a livelihood with his wife even before his child sees him, a man who lives by instinct alone.

Her mother was also a strange person, and she was drowning without criticizing her father like that at all. And he even lived in debt among his relatives.

When her mother died in a car accident with her newborn thirteenth child, it was thought that she could no longer only be in the heart of the family because of her debt, but Miho found a site online where more and more clogged humans gathered and reached the mustard engine with an introduction there.

With Miho entering the mustard engine, the whole family got a huge amount of money that seemed to be able to play and live for about thirty years. The family was cheap with that.

But while her family was saved, Miho lived hard days in this white world.

Anyone who comes to this facility, including Miho, is treated like a guinea pig in the name of a trial for the awakening of paranormal abilities.

He suffered from the side effects of various suspicious medicines, tried life in a room of strong gravity, and was forced to live a life of almost no moisture.

The most enjoyable of these is the use of electromagnetic waves to show hallucinations directly to the brain, the virtual tripping of headgear shaped devices - dreambands - and pseudo-torture experiences.

Miho had endured his days, saying he was patient until the years of his contract had passed. I can't help it because it's the price of my family being saved.

There were people around them who were going crazy, and even those who committed suicide, but when Miho saw it, he was strong in his will. I don't want to lose. Whatever happens to me, I will survive.

Miho had two factors that made him hope, not just the strength of his original losing temper.

One is that Miho has awakened to the power of paranormal, as the purpose of this facility is. Moreover, with considerable momentum, its power has grown in strength.

The other is a change in treatment. Until then, it had been treated like an experimental animal, full of painful thoughts, but since the change in the administrator in charge of Miho, the treatment of Miho has become human. That. Without forcing tortured and harsh experiments, no drugs suffering from side effects had to be administered. The drug itself had been administered, but there had been no more suffering as before.

Just like Miho, the other two subjects in charge of its administration were also guaranteed humane treatment and treated under his authority as a group of Miho and a group of togetherness. All, as soon as the person became in charge, paranormal abilities blossomed. Miho and the others give this person a little favor and trust.

The person in charge was a girl who looked younger than Miho. Above the active outfit, he always appeared in front of Miho and the others in a long white coat with a hem, treating the four with a flamboyant attitude.

The day she showed up, she was born with a t-shirt with snake heads painted with countless black rhombus marks and a denim shortbread.

"Yummy. How's everybody doing?

I greet Miho and the three others who are in the mood. White as usual. Unyielding grin as usual. The girl just shows up, and Miho and the others are surrounded by relief.

"Sounds great."

A little fat body-shaped boy with a nostalgic face answers with a grin spread all over his face. His name is Takero Kanamachi. He is eighteen years old.

"You're being turned into an experimental animal. You're fine. That's creepy, though."

It was a skinny man, Toshio Nakamura (Nakamura), as opposed to Takero, who laughed sarcastically and said so. His age is unknown, but while the other two are teenagers, his appearance is clearly past the mid-twenties.

"Tomorrow, you might get a bone and a head rupture in front of everyone."

"Well, that's a small bomb planted in everyone's head, so if it goes against me, I'll call it Bourne."

The red-eyed girl, Junko Yukioka, returns so with an uncontrolled smile. Of course I know it's a joke. No, we all believed that was a joke and didn't suspect it.

I did not undoubtedly believe in this responsibility with one change in treatment. I have one more reason to believe.

"Well, I have something important to tell you today."

Junko flicks his white coat and takes his seat, saying with an uncontrolled smile.

"The plan to escape here is ready for execution."

The girl remained smiling in a mild tone, but the three of them looked serious.

"People in the mustard engine are naturally aware that you are awakening a particularly powerful force than I am reporting. Anyway, I'm a super famous Mad Scientist on the back street, and I'm here to treat you guys. I'm gonna get a lot of attention."

I didn't know how famous Junko was when I tried it from Miho, the average person who didn't know anything about the backyard society, and it's not perfect. I never even saw Junko's website.

I just know that he is better than any scientist in the mustard engine. Compared to when this girl was in charge, I could tell. It was also heard by other scientists because they were pointing their gaze of jealousy, envy and fear at the pure child.

"It's time for you to let me hear it, Junko"

Wu Lang asked face-to-face.

"How can you help us? Until you do something that turns the government against the enemy. Even Junko created this mustard engine in the first place."

That was also strange for Miho. I know you can help me with something for a purpose. I wouldn't bother to come to a place like this and imitate something that would help strangers. But you never told me that before, and even in that state, I trusted you for some reason.

Fumi Miho has another question. How can you trust this girl so much for all those reasons, no matter how much treatment has changed? Even though they didn't know the purpose, there was no reason to believe it.

But the question had disappeared in the next moment. No, the memory itself that I had doubts about was gone. And Miho's head was filled only with a sense of familiarity and trust in Junko.

"Um, yeah. I forgot to tell you that."

"You can't trust him unless you tell me that first."

Like a tease, Kunihiro.

Yes, Miho thought again that he certainly couldn't be trusted, but soon the question disappears again and I don't even remember ever questioning him.

"I chose you because you were simply the most appropriate subjects for my research. I was originally the founder of this mustard institution, but I didn't quit here because I wanted to immerse myself in my research. The sudden relinquishment of responsibility means that the person who took the chair of the director here after me - I'm not close to the director right now. This time, I needed a facility here so I could use it, and I told him to unconditionally receive my research results."

"Research results - you mean us."

Takeo smiled bitterly and sent Miho and Toshio his gaze.

"From the other side, I give up my role on my own, I come on my own when it's convenient, I wield the prerogatives of the founder, I use research facilities and subjects for you, I give you good results, so you don't like it - hey. I didn't bring up your abilities for them, but this is a state facility, so I was told that it was only a pure desire for research that would make sense to hand it over to the state."

I was Junko, laughing and saying, but Miho was starting to feel bad when I was listening. We give up being experimental benches, but when we think of the days of torture itself, the truth is that we don't want to work for them.

Since I was placed under Junko's jurisdiction, my treatment has changed and I have woken up to excellent powers, so I can happily help Junko.

"From the other side, Junko is doing something convenient too - but it's not convenient for the people here to say what they're saying. Junko made us good, so you're telling me to give you the whole handle, right?

"Embezzlement is a little different from nuances, though. Well, I knew it would happen, so the report was misleading, but it looks like the boulder found out."

Junko answers her outrageous Miho without breaking her smile.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, that's troubling. To prove that you can blossom your ability to sleep, even if it's not in an inhumane way like what's happening here - there was also a nuance that research data could be transferred, but even more than that, it has a purpose for me. Come on. That's why, for my convenience, I want you to get out of here."

"You should be clear about your convenience, don't you believe me."

When I heard Junko's story, he said with an invincible grin.

"It's hard for a self-proclaimed Mad Scientist to help people with charity alone."

"That's the thing. Well, have you convinced me? Everybody."

Junko looking over the three of them. No one spoke of dissent.

"I mean, you only have one choice, whether you're convinced or not?

Says the Japanese man with a smile.

"If you're going to let me out before my contract years go by, I'd love to jump, even if it's a devil's temptation. It's suspicious if you reach the contract year in the first place and get it out safely."

The words spoken by the eunuchs were doubts held by many here. Many of the experiments here are way off track, and there were rumors among the subjects that they would be sealed to prevent information from leaking outside.

"So that's why - I'll make sure you know as soon as it's time to decide, so it's not moving smoothly then. See you later."

Waving bye, Junko tries to walk away.

Miho is surprised to see that only the national man follows him afterwards.

As we reached the hallway, one boy in uniform greeted Junko. The apparent age is about the same as or slightly below that of Junko, and the taller is lower than that of Junko. But its appearance was so neat that it could be called a beautiful white boy.

"Hmm? What's wrong with you? Boy."

Junko looks back at the Japanese who followed him together.

"No, she always comes with me, and I don't know who she is."

Miho and Takero also rise to the word of the Japanese man, and go to those with Junko and others.

I knew Junko always had a companion, but I didn't know who this boy was, so I approached him with curiosity.

"Is that your brother?

samurai says.

"Stop joking. Why am I his brother?"

To the words of the samurai, the boy said with utter facelessness, but without heart or a sounding voice.

"So, boyfriend?

"It's a worse joke."

Saying in a voice scarce of discouragement, the boy turns his heel back and just walks away in the hallway. I'm surprised you said something to hurt your mood.

"Haha, sorry. Because she's a lighthouse. Well, never mind. Nah."

Junko walked away from the scene this time as he followed the boy.

I wondered what kind of child she was, I was surprised at her relationship with Junko, but now that she's already gone, I can't even know, Miho thought I'd ask next time.

"Is that Junko Yukioka's murder doll? I don't feel like a puppet just listening to what you have to say."

Junko shrugged in his mouth as he watched them leave.