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Goddess of Victory : NIKKE -THE Last Kiss-

Ark, the Humanity's last Bastion. They have been pushed to the brink. Most of them never have the chance to bathe in natural sunlight anymore. For the rest of their life. In this turmoil age, 3 Goddesses and one human will change the hopeless situation. ---No matter how much people stab fingers on their back. ---No matter how many setbacks to prove their sincerity. ---No matter how many deaths they have to walk past through. HE WILL NEVER STOP MOVING. . . . . ....Until his very last breath. ------ I'm Gonna Die Someday. 俺はいつか死ぬ. So don't need to pray for me. だから俺への祈りは要らない ---- Author's Twitter(X): https://twitter.com/p2fU5C2HMKb64PK?t=PeTWsCjO8JNuyM1ftzB8AQ&s=09 Original story Link: https://syosetu.org/novel/301895/ Support the original author by following him. His work is amazing!! Illustraion for MC: https://img.syosetu.org/img/user/196574/120267.jpg ------ Please support me on my Patreon: - https://www.patreon.com/user?u=16023962 ------ My Schedule Update: 1 Chapter/day (P.S. My time zone is (GMT+7) ) You can also follow me on Twitter (X): https://twitter.com/home?lang=en (P.S. Depending on the patrons on my Patreons or Ko-Fi, I might post extra chapter.) (P.S.S Also, I'm using Chat GPT with personal edit, so there may be some mistranslation.)

NikkeSimp · Tranh châm biếm
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
190 Chs

Ch. 161

The voice was sticky and excessively sweet, and it sounded too familiar.

Rather than turning to the owner of the voice coming from behind, Moore's right hand reached inside his jacket first.

"─What are you doing in the Outer Rim, Darling?"

"─Work or womanizing. What do you think?"

"Hmm... Work, maybe? ─You shouldn't bring out dangerous things, Darling."

Just as he disengaged the safety of his gun, thin arms entwined around his right arm like a snake.

Facing towards a position a head lower, he directed his gaze. Standing there was──a silhouette that was, indeed, too familiar.

"─Ah, finally Darling noticed me~~♡"

"─Long time no see, Viper. ...Since you dislocated my right arm."

After putting the mobile device he still held in his left hand into his slacks pocket, Moore sent a cold, almost icy, look. Viper, the one on the receiving end, pouted in protest.

"─Geez! Holding onto old grudges like that... Persistent guys like you end up being disliked."

"...Setting aside your standards for 'old'... What do you want? I, for one, feel like freeing my arm right away and settling the old score. Just to confirm, let me ask. Right or left, which do you prefer?"

A flashbang temporarily disrupted both vision and hearing and taking advantage of the opening, Viper's shotgun, which had wrapped around Moore's arm, slammed into him, dislocating his right elbow without much ceremony. Thanks to that, he had to endure the ordeal of reinserting it after falling into the sea.

Whether it was the butt of the gun or the floorboard, it was uncertain, but whatever it was, it was done without much mercy.

"Already... you attacked me first, Darling. It's a draw, isn't it?"

"Did the meaning of words change while I wasn't looking?"

The last society of humanity was considerably smaller compared to the old era. Even in such a society, it was natural for language and trends to change, but it seemed that Moore, perhaps due to his lack of awareness of the world, didn't know that the meaning of words had undergone a significant change.

Of course, there was no such reason.

Although he harbored no resentment or bitterness towards their actions in that situation, that was one thing, and this was another.

Right or left──if you ask which arm is better, Viper shows a sullen face, but soon returns to her original expression. She wears a smile, making it extremely difficult to read her true intentions from her expression.

"─So? Work?"

"...If you mean work, then yes."

Despite being on vacation for the time being, as soon as he completed the MISSION task from Mustang, he was handed a job by the organization he belonged to, and what's more, from his immediate superior. It was nothing but a troublesome situation.

It's not that he dislikes his job, but as Moore, who understands that his true calling is in combat, he can't help but have invisible question marks floating above his head wondering why he was assigned such a job.

"...I thought the same even when we were on the previous mission together... Darling, you always get wrinkles on your forehead so quickly..."

"...It's a habit."

Her slender, white fingertips approached in front of his eyes. Although he was cautious of it, she had no intention, of course, to poke his eyes. With neatly manicured fingers, she massaged the furrowed area between Moore's eyebrows. However, the three deep vertical wrinkles showed no sign of becoming lighter.

"Hey, Darling. Have you got more white hair?"

"It's a stressful job. Gray hair would stand out, wouldn't it? That aside... could you step back soon?"

Just as he untangled his right arm from Viper's entwining slender arms, the mobile device he had tucked into his slacks vibrated. It was a notification of a new message.

The sender was probably the same person anyway. With a sigh, he pulled out the mobile device and checked the newly arrived message.

Perhaps because he hadn't replied after reading it, Anderson had sent a message inquiring about the acceptance of the mission.

As if by the way, the message also promised additional rewards in addition to just confirming the registry.

"Use it for the mental care and welfare of the Nikkes under your command," the wording said.

As one would expect from his superior, he seemed to understand how to handle Moore well. It was almost a catchphrase by now.

"Who's the message from?"

"My superior."

In response to his brief answer, Viper hesitated for a moment.

Eventually, she smiled faintly, looked up at Moore, and with glossed, enchanting lips, she spoke.

"─Is Darling's job related to Nikkephilia club?"

The term "philia" refers back to one of the concepts of love in ancient Greece, one of the four. In Greek, it's not pronounced "philia" but "pilia."

The four concepts representing love are Eros, Philia, Agape, and Storge.

Explaining how these four differ would lead us into discussions about the gods of Greek mythology and become philosophically complex. So, to simplify considerably, if we explain how these four types of love differ:

- Eros : Romantic love between men and women.

- Philia: Affection between friends.

- Storge: Familial love between parents and children or siblings.

- Agape: The infinite and unconditional love of God, the father, for human beings, his children.

The original meaning of "philia" is close to affection, but it's rather peculiar that the term is now included in the realm of sexual paraphilias. Breaking down the English word "paraphilia," "para" is a Greek prefix meaning "beside" or "abnormal," and "philia" retains its original meaning.

Combining these, it would translate to "aberrant love." This term was coined as a pathological and neutral expression to prevent bias or discrimination when used in the context of specialized medical language.

The job or mission given by Anderson this time involves exposing and arresting the owner of a club and establishment that exploits Nikke through Nikke-philia.

It's easy to dismiss it by saying "Report it to A.C.P.U., it's not our jurisdiction," but the police can't act openly either. If high-ranking officials of the central government are involved, any report is likely to be crushed.

Therefore, Anderson concluded that a solo operation to arrest them in the act of the illegal possession of Nikke, who is under central government control, is the closest thing to an optimal solution.

──But that doesn't mean you should drag me into it.

Still, Moore's state of mind involved in this matter is not calm.

He would like to express his grievances directly, but he can already foresee being told about a vague meeting that may or may not happen in "5 minutes," and then being left with no resolution.

Moreover, no matter how much he complains, it ultimately boils down to Moore's personal feelings, which Anderson is not obliged to consider. His immediate superior assigned the mission, looking past emotions and focusing on his capabilities.

──It's a bothersome situation.

In a corner of the shop surrounded by exposed concrete walls, Moore concealed his sigh by exhaling a puff of purple smoke.

"──Is this place Darling's favorite shop?"

"──No. It's my first time here. My superior recommended it."

"──Even though it's a date, what do you think of a place like this? It's like a secret hideout for men, it might be interesting~~~♡"

Beside the purplish smoke, Viper stood. She narrowed her eyes, eagerly observing the atmosphere inside the shop.

Where Viper directed her gaze──were displayed handguns, shotguns, and automatic rifles, all categorized as personal firearms.

This shop was a gun store situated in an alley in a certain part of Arc City.

However, it didn't openly advertise its business with a sign.

Basically, owning, buying, or manufacturing firearms without permission in Arc was strictly prohibited.

Yet, despite being quietly operated in an alley, according to Anderson's message recommending it to Moore, the establishment was aware of, if not officially sanctioned by, the authorities.

One of the reasons for this awareness might be that most customers are affluent individuals or public servants, mainly those permitted to carry firearms such as military personnel and police officers.

The owner of this shop, an elderly man who is both a dealer and a gunsmith, is reputed to be skilled.

If you belong to an organization, especially a public institution, you could legally obtain firearms through proper channels. However, it's only a loan. It doesn't guarantee you get the firearms that suit your preferences.

On the other hand, proposing modifications or changes to the gun would involve a cumbersome review process, and there's uncertainty about obtaining permission.

Rather than wasting time, heading to a shop where you can get a firearm to your liking with just a credit payment seems to be a natural course of action, even if it's on the verge of being illegal.

This is particularly true since many customers seem to be passionate individuals with job responsibilities.

Probably, members of military units or special forces from the military or A.C.P.U.──he guessed while reading the message.

As the fourth cigarette was about to burn out, the door to the workshop at the back of the store opened.

"──Customer, it's done."

The elderly man, the owner of the gun store and a gunsmith, placed a .45 caliber automatic pistol in his noticeably wrinkled hand on the counter.

Acknowledging that the work was finished, he crushed the cigarette in the provided ashtray and approached the counter. Viper, however, had entwined her slender arms around his one arm.

"If it weren't for Colorful Guy's recommendation, I would have declined. We don't welcome one-time visitors. Here's your payment. Confirm it."

"Thanks. Include labor and parts fees──What's this additional charge for parts replacement?"

"Oh, right. The recoil spring for the double-seat Benelli was worn out. I'm offering it at a discount as part of our inventory clearance."

"...I see."

A tablet with numerous scratches was handed to Moore by the elderly shop owner. After looking at the total displayed on the liquid crystal screen, including parts and labor costs, Viper's gaze shifted toward the automatic pistol resting on the counter.

During the order, he had requested modifications to the gun and threading, and Viper recalled.

Upon closer observation, it was indeed apparent that a cylinder, roughly the size of a fingertip, peeked from the gun barrel, indicating that threading had been performed.

This meant──

"Daring. Are you attaching a suppressor?"

"...It'll be necessary, I suppose. ─Confirmed."

Nodding to Viper's expectation, he pulled out a credit card from the inner pocket of his jacket.

The elderly shop owner placed the reading device on the counter, and as he shaded the card over it, the payment was completed.

"...Is the suppressor an additional charge?"

The tablet displayed various fees, but there was no item for a suppressor. Perhaps it would be a separate transaction, which would be a bit of a hassle.

When asked, the elderly man placed a black cylindrical part next to his handgun without saying a word.

"──This one's on the house too."

"...Is it okay?"

He questioned the shop owner, who offered to attach the suppressor for free. Mocking his skeptical nature, the shop owner chuckled with a snort, then turned his gaze to Viper standing next to him.

"──If you're going to spend money on something like this, you might as well spend it on a date with that Nikke girl over there."

How nice!

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