Chapter 6: I may need a few more of these Chopsticks

"Little... I... am... not... a little kid!"

The incompletely unplugged neural core cord sparked intermittent consciousness in Nagant Revolver, allowing her to utter her last words before falling silent.

"Nagant Revolver!" M1911 cried out, her voice cracking with despair as she watched the other Doll's eyes dim.

"Woah, calm down! She's not dead yet. Hold this while I find a new battery. Stay put, don't move… Oh, right, you don't have legs."

Renault disconnected the cord from Nagant Revolver's neural core, placing it in M1911's hand. He then scaled the fence with ease and headed towards the mayor's mansion.

The rough treatment during the fight had left Nagant Revolver's body severely damaged, causing the battery to crack. The sight was as tragic as M1911 beside her, the hydraulic fluid from her severed limbs now forming a puddle.

"Aren't Griffin's Tactical Dolls a tad too fragile?" Renault mused.

"Their bones are made of cheap aluminum alloy, not even steel, and some are even plastic! These are 'low-star' dolls at best. While internal components and materials might be cheap, the neural core is undoubtedly the most expensive part."

He realized that IOP's modifications for Tactical Dolls simply involved installing a Fire Control Core, neglecting any upgrades to the physical body. This level of construction might be sufficient for Civilian Autonomous Dolls performing daily tasks, but for Tactical Dolls exposed to complex battlefields and unpredictable situations, it proved inadequate. Their bodies offered almost no defense; a single shot from an enemy could easily disable them.

Despite these limitations, Nagant Revolver displayed exceptional resilience, surviving gunshots and even assisting the

Commander across the fence. In most cases, these "low-star" Dolls would likely vanish silently like P38.

Finding batteries in the mayor's mansion wasn't difficult. After all, it was 2060, and batteries powered countless devices.

Renault simply picked one apart, ensuring it had the necessary capacity to maintain the neural cloud. Fortunately, the interface matched that of civilian batteries, eliminating the need for adapters or welding.

He inserted the battery, and the light on Nagant Revolver's neural core flickered back on, indicating functionality. However, she remained unable to speak or perceive her surroundings.

"Here, hold onto this. As long as it doesn't break, she'll be alright. Now, about you. Do you have any spare parts back at the Griffin stronghold?"

Renault sighed, looking at M1911's condition. While these parts weren't valuable, doll parts were not readily available. After all, Autonomous Dolls were still relatively new technology.

"No, there weren't… Headquarters didn't have time to deliver the maintenance equipment set to this stronghold yet, so…"

M1911 explained, her voice laced with dejection.

"Understandable. Since there aren't any spare parts, you'll be a 'halfling' for a while, M1911."

After disconnecting the damaged hydraulic lines, Renault effortlessly picked her up. Her weight surprised him; she was barely heavier than the sandbags used as obstacles nearby. He estimated her weight at around 40-50 pounds. Even with functional legs, she wouldn't weigh much more, perhaps 70-80 pounds, typical of a lightweight civilian Doll.

"Let's see if P38 can still be saved."

Finding P38 was surprisingly simple. She lay at the entrance of the Griffin stronghold, her small figure obscured by several fallen infected. Her posture presented a precarious situation, and Renault found himself humming an old tune ingrained in his memory. He quickly dismissed the thought, slightly embarrassed by the involuntary action.

"...What are you doing?" M1911 exclaimed, bewildered.

"Don't worry, it was just nonsense. She's quite unlucky though, both her head and battery were hit. Thankfully, the shot near the core missed."

Renault hastily changed the subject to avoid further embarassment.

The damage mirrored Nagant Revolver's, albeit on a smaller scale. Nagant Revolver truly seemed to have had a streak of bad luck. A hit to the battery would cause temporary deactivation, but a head shot was irreparable, as the sensing modules and computing systems resided there.

Reaching for P38's damaged body, Renault easily extracted her neural core. Aside from a minor scratch, it appeared unharmed.

"No problem, take it."

After ensuring the battery provided sufficient power, Renault turned to explore the Griffin stronghold.

"Stronghold" was a generous term for the space, consisting merely of a front room and a warehouse lacking any professional equipment.

"What a misnomer. This 'stronghold' is nothing more than an entryway and a warehouse,"

Renault muttered, finding no professional equipment inside.

"The only decent tool here seems to be this communicator."

Apart from a mess of documents, most of which were transfer confirmations for a single type of ammunition and materials, the place offered nothing valuable.

"Bullets, but no guns. Do I need to start crafting them myself?"

Renault scratched his head in disbelief, pondering whether to modify the Nagant Revolver and P38 pistols.

Just as he contemplated his options, the stronghold's previously silent communicator crackled to life.