WeTried Translations

Translator: [IncomeElastic]

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◈ I Became a Genius Engineer That Mega Corporations Are Obsessed With ◈

Chapter 016

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Rita

"Nice to meet you, boss! By Gordon's order, I'm starting work at this garage today. My name's Rita! Please take good care of me!"

The little help he'd promised meant sending a person?

Well, handling every odd job and the running of the garage by myself wasn't easy. Having even one person at my side to work in step with would definitely be a big help.

That didn't mean I was in any position to hire just anyone, though.

This was Ground Zero, the lowest tier of Gaon Mega City, and working alongside a stranger here was close to impossible.

With nobody I knew in the area, finding anyone to hire wasn't easy either.

Considering all that, Old Man Gordon had sent someone at a pretty fitting time.

"Oh, right. I'm Dex, the engineer Old Man Gordon hired for this place."

Greeting her, I took a good look at the woman standing in front of me.

Dark orange hair, cropped short in a hush cut that left her nape bare. It was a striking look.

'Hm? That's...'

My eyes locked onto the choker around Rita's neck.

'Looks like a psionic suppressor?'

It didn't seem corporate-made. It looked like a handmade piece by an engineer, and the craftsmanship was quite good.

It looked like custom gear, built to fit Rita's body and mutation structure perfectly.

'I don't think I ever saw gear like that in Fupunkalypse, either.'

An engineer's curiosity crept up on me.

'Wow. Even the outer design doesn't look like the work of some ordinary hand. What does the inside look like? The circuits must be beautiful too. I want to see inside.'

I'd been staring at Rita's nape like that for a good while when it happened.

"...Are you okay? Hello? Boss?"

"..."

"Boss! Boo!"

Rita clapped her hands and shouted right in my face, and only then did I manage to tear my eyes off her nape.

"Ah, sorry. I spaced out for a second..."

"Ahaha! Was it this thing around my neck that caught your eye?"

I must have stared far too blatantly.

"Yes. It doesn't look corporate-made, and it seems like such a finely crafted piece of gear that it's honestly impressive."

At my candid compliment, Rita's amber eyes curved into half-moons.

"Aah, I guess an engineer really does have an eye for these things. That's right. My body's such a pain in the ass that Gordon made this suppressor for me himself, fitted to my body, a long time ago. Without it, things might get a little, just a tiny bit, dangerous."

She gave me a brazen little wink as she said it.

So she was a psionic who couldn't control the mutation output from a natural awakening.

Her breezy lack of shame about her own defect was something I rather liked. Either way, it meant she was a powerful psionic, which made her reassuring too.

"Anyway, boss, I've got a lot of luggage. Can I go in for now? My arms are about to fall off."

Only then did the huge bags crammed into both her hands and slung across her back register. Far too bulky for a part-timer who just commuted in and out.

A bad feeling pinched my brows together on their own.

"...So... Are you planning to live here from now on?"

"Yep! Gordon's orders."

Not a second of hesitation, and bold as brass.

When the landlord, an old man, said he was taking in another tenant, what power did a contract engineer who was himself a tenant have?

"...Come in."

Giving way with a bitter taste in my mouth, I swung the door wide open.

"Hmm... You've set it up pretty simply for now."

Rita stepped inside with her bags in hand, then gave the interior I'd worked so hard to tidy over the past few days a quick sweep of her eyes.

Come to think of it, it suddenly felt unfair. If I'd known a part-timer was coming, I should've waited and done it together.

'Can't believe I thought that. What a ridiculous thing to complain about.'

Knowing Gordon's temper, if I hadn't cleaned up at least roughly, the old man definitely wouldn't have let it slide.

Seeing Rita, bags and all, clomp up toward the second floor, I called out to her.

"Rita. Hold on, the second floor is locked, you know?"

"Oh, right. Gordon said it'd be locked and gave me the key."

Rita rummaged through the pocket of her leather jacket, pulled out a key, and opened the locked second-floor door.

Shff.

"...So this is where the living space was all along."

It was dusty from years of disuse, but the moment the door opened and someone stepped in, the air purification and ventilation unit started up with a faint whir.

A neatly kept living room and lounge, a decently built kitchen, and a proper bathroom with a shower booth.

Farther down the hall, I could make out about four bedrooms.

Even the bedrooms were fully furnished, with soft beds and wardrobes in perfect condition.

'Wait.'

A chill ran through my head for a moment.

Then what was the room with the worn-out mattress I'd been lying down to sleep on these past few days?

Don't tell me that wasn't a room either, just a storage space attached to the first-floor workshop? And the worn mattress shoved in there was only a spare left over from the second-floor beds?

Having learned a truth I never wanted to know, I had no choice but to clutch my head.

And hearing me, Rita started laughing, thoroughly delighted.

"Ahahaha! If I hadn't come, you would've kept sleeping rough in the storeroom."

"Ha. Seems so."

Rita casually stowed her bags in one of the inner rooms, then stretched happily.

"There's plenty of rooms, so no fighting over it. I'll take this one over here. Boss, you take that biggest one with the window."

Seeing her like that brought a touch of deflation and relief at once.

'Seriously. What a nasty-tempered old geezer.'

Gordon, the landlord, must have known perfectly well there was a living space on the second floor.

And still he'd left me to live on the floor of the first-floor storeroom, among the trash and dust.

Until he'd confirmed whether my skill and guts satisfied him, he hadn't had the slightest intention of offering a comfortable place to sleep.

Either way, yesterday my wit and resourcefulness had barely passed the old man's standard, so he'd sent a person along and unlocked this second-floor space too.

'Looks like if I want to get anything from now on, I'll have to keep racking my brain and pulling something off.'

Anyway, what mattered was that I finally had a space fit for a person to live in.

I hauled my belongings up from the first floor and began putting them away in my room on the second floor.

* * *

Arms crossed, Rita watched Dex's back as he gathered his things and went up the stairs to the second floor.

Once his footsteps faded at the top of the stairs, she perched her rear on the counter top and propped her chin lightly on her hand.

'He looks like just some scrawny, ordinary guy on the outside. Well... his mug is pretty decent, I'll give him that.'

What Gordon had said when he called her over this morning was still vivid.

"He's a punk I've been keeping an eye on lately. I thought about keeping him at my side and teaching him, but he wouldn't listen to a word I said and dug in his heels. Wants to stick it out in a dangerous place and start from the bottom, if you can believe it. Look after him, just enough that he doesn't die on the street."

It was the first time Rita had seen Gordon say so directly that he liked one of his students.

And who were the students and subordinates who'd come out of Gordon's hands? Executives of huge gangs who now held an entire district of Ground Zero in their fists, veteran powerhouses the upper tiers couldn't touch carelessly, and plenty more like them.

Even while raising such heavyweights, Gordon had never given a word of praise, always clicking his tongue and calling them half-baked.

And that same Gordon was so anxious about this young whelp coming to harm that he'd stuck Rita on him as bodyguard and manager.

'What kind of talent does he have, to make Gordon so keen on him?'

Deep curiosity and mischief glimmered in Rita's amber eyes.

'Refusing to come to Gordon's side when he's told to is already enough to make him something special, but...'

Thud. Thud.

Dex's footsteps started coming down from the top of the second-floor stairs, his unpacking done.

Rita quickly composed her face and turned around with that trademark slick, friendly smile.

* * *

"Now this feels like a place where people live."

Sleeping with that musty smell of dust had given me headaches, but with a much more comfortable bed, life felt like it had advanced a notch.

Maybe that was why people said food, clothing, and shelter mattered so much.

After roughly finishing the unpacking and coming down to the first floor, I found Rita already settled in by the counter, arms crossed, looking around the interior.

"All done with your stuff, boss?"

"More or less. By the way, Rita, you were told to help out at the garage, so what exactly can you take care of?"

We needed to draw clear lines between each other's territory. At my question, Rita answered crisply, counting off on her fingers as if she'd been waiting for it.

"First off, counter service and settling accounts. Then security and bodyguard work, and I'll help with the overall running and management of the shop too. Oh, and I'm really good at lifting heavy stuff, you know? If there's anything hard to carry, just tell me. I'll carry it for you. And if you've got errands, you can send me on those too."

So, to sum it all up... they'd just attached a bodyguard-slash-manager to me so I wouldn't be in danger.

That doctor, Vivian, had probably reported everything about my condition, so Gordon must have figured it might be dangerous for me to live here alone.

No idea how strong she actually was, but considering the old man had gone out of his way to send her, she had to be plenty strong.

I held out a hand to Rita.

"Right. Okay. Let's get along from here on out."

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