"Okay, so." Suzume stared at the whiteboard Yumi had somehow produced from thin air. Or possibly stolen. With Yumi, both options were equally likely. "We need a plan."

  "Finally," Kasumi said from the couch, where she was doing something violent to an apple with a knife that definitely hadn't been there five minutes ago.

  Suzume picked up a marker, then put it down, then picked it up again. The whiteboard stared back at her, aggressively blank.

  "Right. So. Priority one: headquarters."

  She wrote 'HQ' in shaky letters.

  "Two: the money thing. We need ten million total, we're at—Yumi?"

  "Six point two million and climbing. Someone just sent five thousand yen with a message that's just the middle finger emoji repeated forty times."

  "Helpful. Okay, so money's... probably fine. Three: the missions. We need three documented rescues."

  She wrote 'RESCUE PPL' and immediately regretted her handwriting.

  "Four: three more awakened members. And five..." She gripped the marker harder. "The certification exam. Look," Suzume turned to face them both. "We tackle the logistics first. Get the boring stuff out of the way. Headquarters, paperwork, all that. Then we recruit. Do the rescue missions along the way, whenever they come up. Save the exam for last when I've had time to—"

  "Study how to pretend you respect authority?" Kasumi suggested.

  "Exactly."

  Yumi was already typing.

  "I'll put out feelers for lawyers. Real ones, not the kind who advertise on bus stops. We'll need someone who specializes in Player law, which is its own special kind of hell."

  "And accountants," Kasumi added. "Unless you want to do your own taxes."

  Suzume made a face that suggested she'd rather fight another Void Wraith.

  "Right. So lawyers, accountants..." She wrote 'ADULT STUFF' on the board and underlined it twice. "What else?"

  "Administrative support," Yumi said. "Someone to answer emails, handle scheduling, deal with the media requests that are about to bury us."

  "Medical staff," Kasumi added. "Even if we have healer-type Players, we need people who understand normal human anatomy for when things go really wrong and, for example, there's no more mana to spare."

  "Equipment managers, communication specialists, maybe someone who actually knows how to maintain weapons instead of just hitting them with other weapons until they work again."

  Suzume looked at the growing list on the whiteboard. It was starting to look less like a rescue guild and more like a small corporation.

  [Okay... Not too sure how much I like all that.]

  "How do we even pay for all these people?"

  "That's what the donations are for," Yumi said. "Plus, once we're official, we can take contracts. Recovery operations, dungeon clearing, the stuff other guilds won't touch."

  "The stuff other guilds won't touch because it doesn't pay well."

  "Or because it's stupidly dangerous. But that's kind of your brand now."

  Kasumi stood up, stretching in a way that made Suzume forget what they were talking about for a second.

  "I need to make a call. Ryota's got a lead on a place in Shibuya. Used to be a kendo dojo before the owner got eaten by a slime."

  She walked out onto the tiny balcony, which was barely large enough for one person and a very optimistic plant that Suzume kept forgetting to water.

  Through the glass door, Suzume could see her pull out her phone, her expression shifting from casual to serious.

  "Seven million," Yumi announced. "Also, three law firms have already reached out. Two seem legitimate, one is definitely a scam but they have a very convincing website."

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "How can you tell it's a scam?"

  "Their address is a ramen shop."

  "Maybe they really like ramen?"

  "Their lawyer's photo is clearly Tom Cruise with a mustache photoshopped on."

  [That's actually impressive commitment to the bit.]

  ---

  {Kasumi}

  The phone rang twice before Mika picked up.

  "Kas? Girl, what the hell? You joined Rescue Girl's suicide squad?"

  Kasumi leaned against the railing, which creaked ominously. Everything in Suzume's apartment was held together by hope and duct tape.

  "It's not a suicide squad."

  "She almost dies like every other day! I thought you hated her whole thing? You literally called her a 'well-meaning disaster' on that podcast."

  Kasumi watched through the glass as Suzume wrote something on the whiteboard, erased it, wrote it again, then stood back with her hands on her hips like she was trying to intimidate it into making sense.

  "I did... I do. The whole rescue thing is just... it's dangerous vigilante work that's going to get people killed."

  "So why—"

  "Because she's going to do it anyway." The words came out sharper than intended. "With or without help. At least this way, maybe she won't die alone in some dungeon because she tried to carry three people at once up a cliff."

  "That's specific."

  "She's trained for it, she told me. What if something like that happens?"

  "Jesus."

  "Yeah."

  Mika was quiet for a moment. Kasumi could hear her breathing, the distant sound of traffic from wherever she was calling from.

  "You like her."

  "That's not—"

  "Oh my god, you like her. You have a crush on Rescue Girl."

  "I have a professional interest in keeping a valuable asset alive."

  "You want to professionally interest her—"

  "Mika."

  "Sorry, sorry. But seriously, Kas. This is dangerous. Not just the dungeon stuff. The Association's going to come after her. Hard."

  "I know."

  "And you're okay with that? Throwing away everything you've built?"

  Kasumi looked at Suzume again. She'd given up on the whiteboard and was now explaining something to Yumi using aggressive hand gestures and what looked like a cup noodle container as a prop.

  [She has no idea what she's doing. She's going to die if someone doesn't watch her back.]

  "Yeah," Kasumi said finally. "I'm okay with it."

  "You've got it bad."

  "Shut up."

  "When do I get to meet her?"

  "Never."

  "Come on, I promise I won't tell her about that time you got drunk and tried to seduce a vending machine."

  "That was you."

  "Oh right. Well, I promise I won't tell her about whatever embarrassing thing you've definitely done."

  "Goodbye, Mika."

  "Use protection!"

  Kasumi hung up and briefly considered throwing her phone off the balcony. Only the knowledge that she'd need it for guild business stopped her.

  [This is such a bad idea.]

  She walked back inside to find Suzume and Yumi in the middle of what looked like a very serious discussion about whether they could claim cup noodles as a business expense.

  "You eat them while working," Yumi was saying. "That's literally a business meal."

  "I don't think that's how taxes work."

  "That's exactly how taxes work... if you're creative enough."

  "That's called fraud."

  "Only if you get caught."

  Suzume noticed Kasumi and immediately straightened up, almost knocking over the whiteboard in the process.

  "How'd the call go?"

  "Good. Ryota's got three potential places lined up. All former dojos or training facilities. All technically up to code if you don't look too closely."

  "Define too closely."

  "Like, at all. Don't look at them at all and they're perfect."

  Before Suzume could respond, her phone buzzed. Then Yumi's. Then Kasumi's.

  They all looked at their screens at the same time.

  "Fuck," Yumi said.

  It was an emergency alert. C-rank dungeon in Meguro, destabilized forty minutes ago. Eight Players trapped inside, including two rookies on their first C-rank run.

  "The bureau's already declared it," Yumi read from her phone. "Standard seven-day waiting period before recovery attempts."

  Suzume was already moving, heading for her gear closet. She pulled out her vest, the one with too many holes and not enough armor plating.

  "How far is Meguro?"

  "Twenty minutes by train. Fifteen if we run."

  "Then we run."

  She was strapping on her equipment with the kind of efficiency that came from doing it too many times, usually while half-dead or fully panicking.

  Kasumi watched her check her knife, test her rope, count her flares. Every movement was practiced, automatic. This was Suzume in her element—not the awkward girl who couldn't figure out how to write on a whiteboard, but the woman who'd walked out of a high rank dungeon alone.

  [She's going to go either way. Might as well make sure she comes back.]

  "I'm coming," Kasumi said.

  "You don't have to—"

  "Someone needs to make sure you don't do something stupid like try to solo tank a boss monster with your face."

  "That was one time."

  "Three times according to your medical records."

  "How do you know about my medical records?"

  "Yumi sent them to me."

  They both looked at Yumi, who was somehow already pulling up dungeon layouts on her laptop.

  "What? It's called due diligence. Also, eighteen concussions? Really?"

  "Some of those were minor."

  "A concussion is by definition not minor."

  Suzume finished gearing up and turned to leave, but Kasumi caught her arm. Before Suzume could say anything, Kasumi wrapped her arms around her from behind, the kind of hug that was equal parts comfort and warning.

  "Don't die," she said into Suzume's shoulder. "I refuse to give a eulogy for someone who thought cup noodles were a food group."

  Suzume was very still for a moment, and Kasumi could feel her heart racing through the tactical vest.

  "I'll be careful."

  "No you won't."

  "... I'll try to be careful."

  "Better."

  Kasumi let go and grabbed her spear from where she'd left it leaning against the wall. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way that probably said something unhealthy about her coping mechanisms.

  "Let's go save some idiots," she said.

  "They're not idiots. They're victims of an unstable System that—"

  "Suzume."

  "Yeah?"

  "Save the noble speeches for after we keep them alive."