Chapter 3

On my days off, I usually spent my time in my dorm room doing university assignments or reading. Because I had no money and, with my leg, I was literal baggage on the Moon, which moved at six times the speed of Earth.

Therefore, after casually finishing the assignments for my correspondence university—which I had never once visited the campus of—while eating breakfast, I would access the library on my terminal, download the wisdom of humanity, and read slowly by the window until noon. After that, I would eat lunch, take a nap, read some more, or gaze outside. Among the poor housing situations on the Moon, a dorm rented by the government branch office was nothing spectacular, but I didn’t hate the view from that room. Right below the window was a large waterway; its winding path, flanked on both sides by dirty residences and buildings, made it look like a mountain stream. Also, although narrow, the space above the waterway was open, making me feel as if I could glide right through it. The boats traveling down the waterway looked just like birds.

I rested my cheek on my hand by the window frame and gazed at the lives of the lunar lower class below.

However, I wasn’t thinking about school assignments or anything like that. My head was full of the conversation with Chris, which had ended up lasting until late last night and concluded only after Lisa chased us off and I finally got up.

Probability theory. Calculus. Number theory. And the four arithmetic operations that anyone can do.

The tools Chris used were generally around that level, and all of them seemed to fit within the scope of not-so-difficult textbooks.

Yet, Chris combined them and further improved Hagana’s program, which had converted my judgments into formulas. She said the base data was my investment data that Hagana had left behind. When I was impressed by how well she could reproduce my speculations without even talking to me, Chris squeezed her knees together as if holding in her pee, hunched her back, and forced a smile.

Apparently, she looked at a lot of data. She looked at it over and over again, it seems.

The conclusion, Chris said, was a question of what patterns she could find in the cluster of numbers fluctuating like white noise, and how well they fit the market.

Unlike her usual timid attitude, the ends of her sentences were distinct and assertive, and her clauses were firmly organized.

Her figure was like a machine infused with oil, running smoothly, and that machine was gathering a massive amount of loose change from the market with absolute precision.

My honest impression was that it was refreshing.

As Hagana improved the accuracy of the program, I once feared that my existence might become unnecessary. And Chris’s program had almost entirely realized that fear. The program could mechanically and ceaselessly search the market and stock information that I use as the basis for my judgments, and cross-sectional analysis of all stocks could be performed instantaneously. Its reaction speed was under a thousandth of a second, and the maximum number of simultaneous trades it could execute exceeded five hundred.

It doesn’t get tired, it doesn’t get bored, it doesn’t fear.

With a very quiet state of mind, I thought as I stared at the river flowing below.

If so, what is it that I can do?

After all, everything I can do, Chris’s program can execute with maximum accuracy. It was as if, while I had been sleeping for four years, a perfect alternate version of myself had been living my life before I knew it. I can’t stay awake for twenty-four hours a day, much less become more proficient in mathematics than Chris. Yet, I didn’t harbor the fear or impatience I felt when Hagana was developing the program.

I wondered why, but I wasn’t sure. Rationally speaking, improving Chris’s program means beating the me from four years ago. I can’t imagine my current self being capable of such a thing, but somehow my feelings were carefree. Or perhaps, I thought, I’m just groggy because I’ve been sleeping for four years.

But that didn’t feel quite right either, and I felt a slight irritation about it.

Is it, after all, because my own money isn’t on the line?

After blankly gazing at the outside scenery from inside my room for a while, I slowly picked up my jacket and stood up. Chris had said that office was open on weekends too. If I put myself in that environment, the tension from the old days might return.

Thinking that, and simultaneously feeling a sentiment akin to a wry smile spreading in my chest at how nostalgic it was to even be thinking such things, I left the dorm.

---

Cars are a synonym for high-class on the Moon.

Thanks to that, the main modes of transportation in the ever-expanding lunar city were boats on the waterways or streetcars.

When tourists are surprised and say, ‘It’s just like our towns a hundred years ago,’ I can understand, as it’s a sight I’ve seen in movies too.

Following that pattern, the transportation I used was a waterway, a streetcar, a waterway again, then a main train heading to Newton City, and finally, walking.

At the secret base I finally reached by taking an elevator that felt like it was plunging underground for the finishing touch, everyone except Eleanor was there, even though it was Saturday.

“Good morning.”

The first to greet me was Marco, who was wiping the entrance door clean.

There’s probably no school today, but seeing him cleaning so energetically in a place like this instead of hanging out with friends in the morning shows how much he truly loves this world, or perhaps Eleanor.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.”

After replying to Le Goff’s stiffly starched greeting, I shrugged at Chris, who gave a slightly embarrassed, shy smile, perhaps because of last night. I propped my crutch against a neatly tidied desk that was probably meant for me.

Then, I directed my words at Marco at the desk opposite mine.

“Where’s the princess?”

At that, Le Goff, who had his desk set up apart by the window, spoke up reprovingly.

“My Lady is currently out.”

“I see.”

It seems she isn’t unable to get out of her canopy bed due to low blood pressure, at least.

“Do you have some business with her?”

“One is a very administrative matter.”

“I will handle it.”

“How much capital will I be responsible for?”

As expected, I couldn’t say “me” (ore) and used “I” (boku) instead.

“I have been instructed by My Lady. First, 300,000 Mool.”

One-seventh of Chris’s. Since it’s different from being able to somewhat measure the usefulness of a program using past market data, I thought it was a reasonable amount. The scary part is probably that I thought, ‘Ah, 300,000 Mool, huh,’ without any particular emotion.

If it’s not money I feel as my own flesh and blood, will the tension from the old days really not return?

“If you generate profit, the amount will be gradually increased. Anything else?”

“A very personal question, but…”

“…I cannot answer private questions regarding My Lady.”

“No, I was just wondering what kind of investments Eleanor-san makes.”

“My Lady does not invest.”

“…Does not invest?”

“She is solely striving day and night to expand this organization. Due to the nature of that business, My Lady would not be pleased to have it spoken of to others, so I cannot say more from my own mouth. Furthermore, the same applies to Marco, who has already been informed, and Miss Chris. If you absolutely must know, please ask My Lady directly.”

When I directed my gaze at Chris and Marco, both of them lowered their heads as if to say, ‘That’s how it is, so I’m sorry.’

“Understood. And this is the right desk, correct?”

“Yes. Please set the password for the terminal yourself.”

It was Marco who answered, and I took my seat while nodding.

“Ah, also, do I report my trading details daily? Weekly?”

Le Goff answered that question.

“We cannot bear responsibility for trades made outside of company funds. And trades using company funds can only be executed on that terminal. Therefore, you may adopt whatever attendance format you like, but you must come here to execute trades. However, this does not apply in the case of fully automated trading via a program, like Miss Chris.”

“In other words, my trading data will be constantly monitored.”

“Are you dissatisfied?”

It was a slightly intimidating way of speaking, but I gave a small shrug.

“No. I was just relieved that if I make a massive failure, the responsibility won’t fall on just one person.”

“…I see. Does that mean you have already experienced a massive failure?”

“Yes. One that I couldn’t possibly carry alone.”

As I answered, I could tell Chris was looking at me a bit anxiously.

However, I had enough composure to glance back at Chris and tilt my head slightly.

“Rather than monopolizing success, I feel like having someone share the failure results in a net positive overall. The fact that success is difficult means that failure is easy, after all.”

“It’s a relief that it seems I can save the trouble of admonishing you.”

His face was deadly serious, but it was probably Le Goff’s version of a joke.

Turning on the power to the terminal, I said briefly:

“Risk and return.”

“An eternal problem.”

Looking at Le Goff out of the corner of my eye, I thought it was quite a fun workplace.

---

When noon arrived, Le Goff ordered Chinese food delivery, Marco prepared the tableware while we waited, and we all shared from large plates. Afterward, Marco and Chris washed the dishes in the shared kitchenette outside the office, and when they returned, a tray carrying a tea set and coffee was brought in.

Le Goff measured tea leaves at his desk, poured hot water, and steeped it while timing it with his pocket watch. That ritual itself must be his post-meal relaxation. Marco and Chris had coffee; Chris added only sugar, while Marco added milk and sugar.

While sipping that, Marco was apparently doing school homework. Chris, while answering questions about that homework, was also looking at university-related materials on her terminal.

Observing this scene, I was thinking about my own investment methods. However, in this atmosphere, I almost forgot that this was a section of Schrödinger Street, a place where people burning with ambition to make huge sums of money gathered. If you can make money in such a relaxed, pastoral atmosphere, even someone who isn’t Chris would want to show their face on holidays.

However, the atmosphere of this place was the exact opposite of what I was seeking. I looked at Chris’s data, looked at the market data, and searched for clues to give shape to the hazy something inside me, but all that came out were yawns.

As the afternoon wore on, Le Goff and Marco began handling their work anyway. Listening idly to their phone conversations, Le Goff received sales pitches from investment banks soliciting outsourced trade execution services, or calls offering blocks of shares for sale over the counter at a discount.

Marco received calls about delivering office supplies, or sales pitches from real estate agents suggesting office relocation.

Anyway, almost all of them were sales pitches of some sort, making me vaguely think that the Moon was boiling over.

Even among the stocks I was watching, the number of issues continuing to skyrocket was incredibly large by the standards of four years ago. Doubling in a few months was commonplace, and extreme ones tripled or quadrupled in a month.

Moreover, the financials of those companies couldn’t be called stable even as flattery, and the amounts they were investing in facilities, which could only be described as desperate, seemed like pure madness. Some companies almost looked like they were begging, practically offering money just to have someone buy their products.

However, if you went to those companies’ websites, they were invariably bullish. They unabashedly declared that they would become the champions of the Moon and overturn Earth’s common sense.

For example, they claimed that efficiency would jump dramatically through fundamentally new transportation technologies that couldn’t be realized on Earth, or that theoretical construction techniques impossible on Earth could be applied on the Moon, so in order to handle the ever-increasing number of construction projects, lunar builders would have no choice but to use their company’s patents, and so on.

In reality, such companies are growing at a rate commensurate with their grand boasts, and they look like they can continue to grow. The scary part is that to achieve this, they are taking on unimaginable debt to run ads and expand their operations.

I understand very well that one should take risks for the sake of returns. In that sense, they might be right.

But, I wonder if the reason I frown at their reckless way of taking risks is because I’ve gotten older? Or perhaps a loser mentality has seeped into my bones.

Occasionally the phone rings, Le Goff or Marco answers, and Chris, glued to her display, occasionally solves some formula on her terminal as if suddenly remembering. I wonder if they don’t feel any sense of incongruity placing themselves amidst such a market environment.

I felt isolated, as if I was the only one not riding the current timeline.

A rare consolation is that when I examine Chris’s program, it hasn’t been very successful at drawing profits from those kinds of boiling-over stocks. In other words, even the judgment of the me from four years ago, who was immersed in the market and more bullish than anyone else, avoided these kinds of companies.

But the stock prices are jumping right before my eyes with an momentum that threatens to smash through the lunar dome. I wonder what Chris thinks of this.

I think that, then reconsider.

No, rather, what does the me that Chris’s program is based on think of this?

Regardless of it being the weekend, when the closing bell rang at 5 PM in sync with the market cycle, I raised my face from the sea of inorganic data. In the past, once I dove into the sea of data, I would keep diving until I was exhausted, but that wasn’t the case now. Even if I wanted to dive deep, I had no clues.

I let out a small sigh and tapped the shoulder of Chris, who seemed completely oblivious to the bell.

“Got a minute on the way home?”

“Eh?”

To the blank-looking Chris, I said this:

“I want to stroll around Newton City a bit; would you keep me company?”

Chris nodded without a second thought, and immediately packed up and finished her preparations.

---

The lunar city is structured with Newton City—where skyscrapers tower—at its center, surrounded by White City where quiet residential areas spread out, and further outside, the Outer Districts divided from One to Six.

Because the Moon’s wealth and power are concentrated in Newton City, the further away you get, the lower the wealth and status of the residents. The poorest areas of the Outer Districts couldn’t even afford paint to recoat rusting buildings, which is why they were called things like the Red Valley.

However, recently the wave of redevelopment washes away poor districts almost periodically, so the name Red Valley is no longer heard. Instead, those forced to evict due to redevelopment naturally head toward places with lower and lower land prices, so eventually, after being gathered in one place, they are bounced from land to land one after another like billiard balls. In the news, they are called housing refugees, but in the sense that they lost their place to go after being caught up in economic disputes, that might be accurate. At that government branch office, too, people who were driven from their homes through methods even more vicious than what we experienced four years ago crowded the free legal clinic asking for help.

The true face of the Moon, an unprecedented economic boom even when including the entirety of human history on Earth.

I was thinking that with a detached feeling, but after spending a day watching the stock market, I also thought that I might be too pessimistic.

If the market continues to change just as people change, then the me from four years ago and the me who had been sleeping for four years might be the ones who are wrong.

I came to the center of Newton City to confirm that.

“This place is as packed with people as ever.”

“I heard the number of passengers getting on and off per day is one million. The total number loses to major cities on Earth, but I hear it wins in population density per unit area. Since both the upper and lower levels are like this.”

I wouldn’t say there was no room to stand a needle, but the density was such that shoulders brushed, and the mass of people advanced through the station concourse like a viscous fluid.

Since I naturally couldn’t match the speed of those around me, I stood out completely as a foreign object in the fluid. Yet, for some reason, I was the one leading the way. Apparently, Chris had no sense of direction and couldn’t read the flow of people, so she kept bumping into people and getting her feet stepped on—it was a disaster.

“Why don’t you walk more efficiently, like a mathematician?”

I said as we finally reached a corner of the concourse where the wave of people broke off like an air pocket, taking a breather. Chris hitched up her shoulder bag that was about to slip off, took off her glasses that had fogged up from the body heat of the crowd, and lazily wiped them with her sleeve.

“T-There is a computational limit to solving the many-body problem… A quantum computer is required.”

“But people are actually moving without getting tangled up.”

“…When there are too many people, I just get confused…”

“I’m not blaming you.”

I pushed the corners of my mouth up with my fingers to form a smile.

“Just teasing.”

“Urrgh…”

Chris groaned reproachfully, then said, “Jeez, let’s go,” and started walking.

Chasing after Chris, I directed my gaze above the heads of the people.

For these past four years, I had always been staring only at my feet.

Just the numerous advertisements entering my field of vision felt fresh.

“There are a lot of ads for saving electricity.”

“Eh?”

“A lot of ads for saving electricity. It’s a bit surprising.”

The symbol indicating electricity was painted over with a red traffic sign indicating ‘Do Not Enter’.

And the words: Stop Wasting.

The combination of the words “lunar surface” and “frugality” didn’t quite click for me.

“Ah… that’s not about saving electricity.”

Having exited the station ticket gates and walked down the passage of the massive station building for a while, the wave of people had considerably thinned out. Chris explained while walking on the side where I held my crutch.

“It’s an advertisement for electricity trading.”

“…”

I looked at the advertisement once more.

No way, I thought, looking at Chris, and Chris was laughing in amusement.

“It means you should participate in personal electricity trading, buy cheaply at the right timing, and lower your electricity bill. All of these types are Avalon’s advertisements.”

“So that’s what it means…”

“Since power production on the Moon is mainly solar, the amount generated and the costs are almost fixed, but demand is a variable. Moreover, to avoid the entire city falling into a blackout all at once, electricity is supplied in fairly fine subdivisions. Therefore, according to the laws of supply and demand, prices fluctuate locally all over the Moon, and wherever prices fluctuate, investment opportunities inevitably arise, or so they say.”

Even though she gets tongue-tied immediately during normal conversations, she can speak fluently about things that sound like they’re written in a textbook. The reason she doesn’t feel arrogant or cold despite being terrifyingly smart probably stems from this aspect of hers.

“I see. What about the one next to it? A movie ad?”

“That one with the locomotive? No, apparently a new line is being built on the level even further below this station, and that’s what will be running on it. A tram running through Newton City’s underground levels.”

“…Marco would probably love that.”

“Immigrants are rapidly increasing, and there are many people who have lived here for a long time, so recently, older Earth culture has become a trend. Lisa-san was saying she wanted a kotatsu too.”

“A kotatsu? We had one at my parents’ house… those are good.”

“If I recall, in Japan, you offer oranges to the kotatsu, right?”

It seemed Chris wasn’t joking.

“Ah, yeah. What’s more, in the authentic Japan, they apparently offer grapefruits when summer arrives.”

“Heeh… Wait, but a kotatsu in summer?”

Teasing a genius who skipped grades to enter Lunar City University was a lot of fun.

“There are more ads for investment banks than before, too.”

“It’s a massive boom right now, after all.”

Chris said it smoothly, without any deep emotion.

Feigning an equal amount of indifference, I asked.

“A bubble, huh.”

“Bubble?”

She had a blank look on her face, almost as if she were about to say, ‘Is something wrong with your gum?’

Then, finally realizing it was about the market, she floated her usual troubled smile.

“It has substance. It’s not a bubble.”

“Even in the famous Dutch tulip bubble, I don’t think tulip bulbs were holographic images.”

“Urrgh…”

Chris twisted her lips slightly and averted her gaze to think.

When Chris is thinking about something, she has a mysterious charm where dignity and innocence coexist.

“Lunar city companies earn massive amounts of money every year, and immigrants and tourists keep increasing. The funds earned from Earth are invested in the Moon’s infrastructure, residences and buildings continue to be constructed, Lunar Cities up to the Third City have been completed, and a Fourth and Fifth are being planned. It’s true that the irrational exuberance that occurred on Earth at the end of the previous century seemed to be a truly baseless, fictitious uproar, but the current Moon is different.”

“Irrational exuberance” was a phrase uttered by a legendary central banker on Earth, perfectly describing a bubble to the utmost degree.

That period is known as the unprecedented IT bubble, which occurred during a time when computers and communication technologies advanced by leaps and bounds. It was an era of frenzy flooded with fraudulent companies that would make the South Sea Company—the origin of the word “bubble,” which even Isaac Newton was duped by, betting a fortune and suffering massive losses—pale in comparison. Every single one of those scam companies’ stocks broke record highs, and in the end, massive wealth vanished like a bubble in an instant. The amount is said to have been three to four trillion dollars in US currency at the time. That much money vanished from the wallets of investors.

All because of the megalomaniacal enthusiasm that communication and information technology would completely repaint the world.

And while humanity certainly made it to the Moon, the “world” didn’t change that much.

“See, even in the ads, there are lots of invitations to housing and new cities. Housing and new cities aren’t fiction.”

“True.”

“Besides, since the Moon is a brand-new blank slate, new technologies that are hard to put into practical use on Earth can be incorporated from the very beginning. Even now on Earth, despite being developed countries, there are apparently many primitive, uncivilized places that erect utility poles and communicate via copper wires.”

It’s incredibly inefficient, isn’t it, Chris shrugged.

I had been staring at similar promotional slogans on corporate websites just a few hours ago.

“Therefore, the Moon is developing faster and more efficiently than anywhere on Earth. And since the visible economic development is this amazing, wouldn’t the stock market be the same?”

Being able to say that long speech to the end without stumbling over her words, Chris looked a little triumphant.

Or perhaps she was excited by the content of what she was saying itself.

The face of someone who believed without a doubt that the development of this Moon was directly linked to the future of humanity was the face of the people confidently strutting across the Moon.

Chris and I advanced through the congested passage and arrived at the entrance of a shopping mall that was harmoniously integrated with the station. As always, the walls were decorated with display windows and advertisements, continuously stimulating people’s desire to buy.

The number of shopping bags in the hands of passersby began to increase, and the sight of people wearing coats that were likely real fur also caught my eye.

“Steady development. Just that the development on the Moon is too fast, making it look like a bubble?”

“I think so. This is a new world, so it can’t be measured by Earth’s standards. Since humans lived on Earth for tens of millions of years, they say it’s genetically and cognitively difficult even for Moon-born people to keep up with the speed of the Moon.”

Chris answered with a bright smile, her cheeks puffing up in a soft, cheerful laugh.

More than the Moon-born Marco, Chris was a Moon-fanboy. A lunar citizen riding the mainstream flowing across the Moon, about to leap out to its very cutting edge. In contrast, I was gazing at a display window decorated with naked mannequins wrapped in aggressively red tape that read 70% OFF!

I didn’t dislike the kind of things Chris was saying.

However, something was still getting in the way of me diving in wholeheartedly.

“You’re holding back quite a bit when you’re in front of Lisa, aren’t you.”

At those casually spoken words, Chris’s smile twitched with a start.

Moreover, that smile slowly turned into a wry one.

“Cerault-san keeps me company, though…”

“Ah, so that’s why you two are close.”

“I’m not saying anything bad about Lisa-san… you know? But I think Lisa-san is just a little bit stubborn.”

Rather than blaming Lisa, Chris seemed very disappointed that she couldn’t share this excitement with her.

“Everyone has their likes and dislikes for everything.”

When I said that, Chris turned puppy-dog eyes toward me.

“Besides, when I see someone running at full sprint, no matter what it is, it makes me nervous. Wondering if they’ll fall over eventually.”

“…I do fall over quite often, after all.”

Chris said, abruptly turning her head away.

“Well, if you fall, you just have to go to Lisa’s place. Even when I took a fall as terrible as I did, she was kind.”

“…”

When I said something self-deprecating, Chris made a face as if she had been the one hurt. The relieved smile she showed when I recovered from my panic attack must also be because Chris admired me.

However, I’m not confident whether I can meet those expectations. For the past four years, at the very least, I had betrayed those expectations.

Therefore, at a loss for what to do, I pushed up the corners of my lips with my fingers.

Then Chris also chuckled as if troubled, and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“I went to your house too, you know, Hal-san.”

The smile she gave me when she said ‘It’s okay,’ every time I had a panic attack.

I said this:

“Then, maybe I should live at the church next time.”

“Eh… r-really?”

When I shrugged at Chris, who suddenly got serious and asked back, Chris puffed her cheeks and playfully swatted my arm.

Doing that, we advanced and arrived at the shopping area. Then, the ceiling that had been pressing down on our heads until then suddenly vanished. Looking up, there was a mall on the upper floors as well, and sky bridges were arranged to connect the valley between the left and right sides. It seemed it was designed like a river flowing at the bottom of a valley.

The valleys on both sides continued quite far up, and beyond that was a massive glass ceiling, and through it, faintly, the madder-red dyed city dome could be seen.

There’s a saying about ‘building a roof upon a roof’, and it felt exactly like that.

“This is, what was it, Newton City’s largest…?”

“The largest in Newton City, and in terms of retail space, the world’s largest shopping mall even including Earth—Clapton Square. Though this is just a tiny part of it.”

Chris proudly answered, pulling her gaze back from the display windows of the highly luxurious-looking boutiques lining both sides.

“But, if you go further ahead, I think you’ll be even more surprised.”

“Oh?”

Even at this point, stores were tightly packed on both sides, of course, and looking up, you could easily see ten stories or more. There were, of course, countless side streets, and stores continued far into the back.

If you counted them all, wouldn’t it easily exceed one or two thousand?

Thinking about that, I walked past display windows featuring lots of black, gold, and silver hues. While I didn’t know the exact prices, considering clerks dressed like butlers in black suits stood at attention at the entrances, they probably weren’t cheap. Despite that, there were a scattering of customers being seen out by the clerks, so it seemed they were selling quite frequently.

What’s the rent here? Personnel costs? Cost of goods?

While thinking about such things, I was suddenly struck by a sensation like I had missed a step.

“!? “

And when I realized that wasn’t the case, I even felt something akin to dizziness.

After a soft chuckle that sounded like pressing into soft cotton, Chris’s vibrant voice said this:

“This is the Grand Hall of Clapton Square.”

It was a massive hall. No, perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a waterfall basin.

In theaters for opera or classical music, there’s a structure where seats are arranged in a semicircle around the stage, rising higher the further back they go. This place was an extreme version of that; leaning over the reinforced glass railing and looking down, the people at the very bottom of the slope looked no bigger than beans. Looking left and right, it formed a fan shape that sloped down to the bottom. Escalators were installed on that sloped section, giving it the appearance of a flowing waterfall.

And what was more breathtaking than anything else was that the opposite side of the mall, which formed those semicircular tiers, was an open atrium with a vastness so massive it made the viewer anxious.

“Seventy-one floors above ground, thirty-four floors below ground, 3,611 stores, 24 movie theaters, nine hotels, two aquariums, and five grand theaters, apparently. There are even three police stations and three fire stations that have jurisdiction exclusively over this place, and they say a tour to see all of Clapton Square takes a whole week.”

“…”

I had no words for that explanation.

Wouldn’t it be observable from Earth with a decent astronomical telescope?

It was an atrium hall so vast it made you think that.

“Here, the staff communicate with each other using the flashing of flashlights for things like lost child announcements and giving directions.”

“…”

“Look. Right now, there’s a place over there where a red light and a green light are flashing alternately; someone probably got lost, and the place they wanted to go is right there.”

Indeed, looking closely after being told, places here and there were blinking with a level of light that wouldn’t normally catch your attention. The faint beams extending occasionally must be guideposts for giving directions.

Who would ever think that manual signals would be put to practical use on the Moon, the so-called frontier of humanity?

Rather than frustratingly inputting your destination and searching on a touch display whose response has worsened due to human smudges, a person is decidedly faster. Above all, virtual directions never leave the realm of the virtual. If someone points it out to you, and you lean over the railing to see it with your own eyes, where you need to go becomes obvious at a glance.

“Apparently, the concept is ‘More human than Earth.'”

I couldn’t help but understand Chris’s feelings as she spoke proudly.

Unable to string words together, I could only stand there and gaze at this overwhelming spectacle.

“Come on, Hal-san, let’s go.”

“…”

“There are plenty of places to see, after all.”

Chris said with unusual joy, and started walking. Taking my hand was also a very natural motion.

This place must be the world Chris belongs in; the cutting edge of the Moon where she can behave without constraint.

Clapton Square seemed to have absolutely everything related to daily life. The number of stores handling clothes, jewelry, furniture, and sundries was truly mind-boggling. Besides that, just when you thought there was a travel agency handling trips to Earth, there was also a government branch office providing guidance on relocating to new lunar cities, sections lined with pet shops, art galleries handling paintings, and antique shops handling pottery, and even a store handling real, physical books. There was even a sports gym, and I could see people exercising beyond the glass, though I was slightly puzzled as to why they needed to exercise here.

Anyway, the one thing they all had in common was that they were all packed with customers, and not a single store looked to have free time. Moreover, unlike the buildings in the Outer District, the air conditioning here was robust, to the point of being almost hot. Perhaps calculating on that, there were ice cream shops and fruit parlors everywhere, and Chris and I couldn’t resist the temptation either. However, I was startled that a single ice cream cost 15 Mool. In the Outer District, that’s two hours’ worth of hourly wages for an average part-time job.

Despite that, customers came one after another; this is what it means to be endlessly flooded.

Chris and I eventually purchased a cone piled high with blueberry and cassis ice cream, deciding to share it with spoons between the two of us.

During that time too, I was counting how many customers came per minute, estimating the daily sales and the number of stores, and imagining the massive scale of the profits. I only gave half-hearted replies to Chris saying, ‘It’s delicious, isn’t it.’

A completely different world from the Outer District. A Moon I didn’t know existed here.

After eating about half the ice cream, Chris and I started walking again. No matter how much we walked, there were stores, and it made me dizzy to think that so much economic activity existed in the world.

Amidst all that, I suddenly stopped my feet in front of a real estate agency.

“Ah, come to think of it, what are you going to do about your dorm?”

“If I’m quitting the government office, I’ll need to move out, but…”

“You should just come to the church.”

She dragged out the joke from earlier.

“Or do you plan to rent a place around here?”

Chris made a dubious face, as if to say Are you insane?, which was rare for her.

“…There might be a cheap room.”

Even I am well aware of how reckless it is to rent a house around here.

At my deadpan words, Chris shrugged.

The glass windows of the real estate agency facing the passage all doubled as electronic displays, and various housing and office information flowed continuously across them. It was set up so that touching an ad with a finger brought up the details right there, and there were many other customers looking at various things with serious expressions.

However, the reason I couldn’t get serious wasn’t because the market prices were high. It was because they were practically insane.

There were apartments with the selling point of being ‘within walking distance of Central Station,’ but all of them had layouts starting from 2LDK, and the minimum price started from 8,000,000 Mool. The prices seemed to get higher the further up the display you looked, and at the very top was a sales ad for a condominium style, starting at 22,000,000 Mool per unit.

What was terrifying was that it was marked in red as ‘Sold.’

Furthermore, whether this information was linked to all their branches or something, quite a few ads turned red and displayed ‘Sold’ even while I was watching. Every time that happened, the customers looking on similarly around me would have conversations like, “Aw man,” or “We need to decide quickly.” All of them were young couples in their late twenties or early thirties, and they didn’t look exceptionally well-dressed.

Four years ago, according to my common sense, the average lifetime income of a white-collar worker on the Moon was between two million and three million Mool. With the Moon’s population growing explosively, and the folks who earned high incomes making a killing and promptly returning to Earth, the income of people working on the Moon shouldn’t have changed that much.

And yet, they are looking at luxurious apartments going for eight million or ten million Mool, and some of them were rushing into the store with panicked faces.

Lured by that, I peeked inside the store; people were packed tight at the counters, clerks were dealing with them busily, and the ones coming out with customers were probably people actually going to view houses.

There was rental information too, but almost all were already contracted, there were few to begin with, and there were absolutely zero properties with rent below 5,000 Mool a month.

“Real estate investment looks like it’d make a profit, too.”

“It seems to be incredible, you know?”

Chris, who had been poking at the display here and there, answered, looking up while still half-crouched.

“It seems it’s completely normal for luxury housing to double or triple in a few years.”

“So that’s why real estate companies’ performance is soaring steadily upwards.”

“But it’s not so great with stocks. They’ve already gone up too much.”

“Figured.”

“Instead, I’m making a profit off the comprehensive real estate price index.”

That broad, satisfied grin was a smile she never showed at the church.

If investing in individual buildings and expecting them to rise in value is the Stone Age, then investing in the real estate agents who handle those buildings collectively would be the Industrial Revolution. The modern investment world goes even a step beyond that: there are means to invest in abstract indices calculated from housing and land prices that indicate the trends of the real estate industry as a whole.

The more refined the casino, the more refined the players who cleverly rake in the profits.

You could definitely say that the world of such abstract index trading suits the program driven by the abstract mathematical algorithms Chris devised.

“You’re making a face you couldn’t show Lisa.”

When I said that, Chris gasped and vigorously washed her face with both hands.

“However, it’s really hard to believe this is the same Moon as the Outer District.”

Perhaps because I mentioned Lisa, the rundown building housing the church came to mind. Electricity barely runs, the elevator is perpetually stopped, and the walls and floors are left to rot. How much is the rent there? It’s probably not all that cheap. There are plenty of people who can’t even afford to live in a place like that.

After all, there are people panicking that they need to buy quickly even at these insane prices. Since land on the Moon is limited, there’s no way the folks in a district where they leisurely sell steamed buns at food stalls could win a turf war.

“Even in the new cities, housing apparently sells out completely before construction even begins.”

“How does it sell that much? Everyone… they don’t look that rich to me.”

When I naturally lowered my voice to ask, Chris shrank her neck as if it tickled, perhaps because my breath hit her ear.

“Debt. Thinking that the price will go up anyway, it seems everyone borrows money to buy them. If you have enough income to just pay the interest, the banks apparently lend you money easily. Then, if the value goes up after you buy it, you resell it, pay off the principal, and take the profit. In other words, it’s practically the world of call options. It’s a kind of financial engineering.”

Rather than buying a stock itself, the right to buy a stock at a specific price on a predetermined date in the future is called a call option. For example, suppose you buy the right to buy a stock for 1,000 Mool in three months for 20 Mool. What you pay on the spot is only 20 Mool. Suppose that three months later, the stock’s value rises to 1,100 Mool. A stock that you would normally have to pay 1,100 Mool to buy can be bought for 1,000 Mool by exercising the call option. If you immediately sell this on the market, it’s a 100 Mool profit. Subtracting the 20 Mool you initially paid for the call option leaves 80 Mool as your final profit. This is four times the amount you invested. If you had bought the stock normally, it would have been a 10% profit on the invested amount, but here the profit swells to 400%. Moreover, the buying and selling of the stock usually doesn’t actually take place; instead, the difference is paid in cash under the assumption that the transaction occurred.

In other words, even though you would normally have to prepare 1,000 Mool to buy the stock, even without the lump sum of money needed to buy the stock, you can place a bet on the stock’s price movements, and the profits can be massive—a magnificent system, one could say.

And borrowing money in anticipation of a house’s value rising and paying only the interest is essentially the exact same mechanism. Even those who want to invest in rising housing prices but don’t have the money to buy a house can participate in the gamble as long as they can pay the interest.

But, was a house supposed to be that kind of thing?

I almost started to lose confidence in the fact that I was Moon-born.

Thinking that, as I looked around a bit, I realized that, like a horror movie, there were bank advertisements everywhere.

“It’s a terrifying thought.”

I said that, but far from growing cold, my chest was slowly growing hot.

It felt as though something I had forgotten for four whole years was finally taking on heat.

I felt like I had found a swirling vortex within the darkness of inorganic data.

Just as Chris said, this is the real deal.

The fever known as the economic boom enveloping the Moon was undeniably real.

“If houses sell, furniture sells too. You need contractors to transport it. Afforestation businesses profit, and naturally, importers make up for any shortages…”

“As transactions increase, the money supply increases, and credit expands. New capital investments continue to grow, but thanks to the increasing number of immigrants, labor costs are kept low, and what’s more, the purchasing demographic also expands.”

Following up on my muttering, Chris tapped the display and brought up information for a 5LDK maisonette-style apartment.

“Since there are almost no government regulations like on Earth, things progress freely and efficiently. When companies become wealthy, their employees become wealthy too, and when they spend money, the economy turns even more. Even people who don’t have much money…”

Even that 16,000,000 Mool apartment was marked as sold right in front of Chris’s eyes.

“If they invest, they can definitely become rich.”

“No wonder stocks are booming.”

“I think there are very many winds blowing right now.”

“Winds?”

When I asked back, Chris sat up and took a bite of her ice cream.

Seeing her like that, she looks like nothing more than an innocent young girl, yet the mathematical algorithm her brain created continues to earn massive sums of money in a room of that run-down building.

“The wider you spread both your arms, the more of that wind you can catch, and the higher you can fly.”

Those eyes of Chris’s were inorganic, like when she was staring at her investment tools. Rationally, logically, endlessly cold and clear-headed, making full use of abstract concepts, omitting all of reality’s friction, and simply aiming single-mindedly for the destination—it was the look of someone viewing the world of investment.

The fact that even I felt a chill probably wasn’t because of the ice cream. If you have talent and opportunity like Chris, you can fly to great heights in an instant. And even those without that talent, as long as they have the resolve to take on massive debt, can obtain just as much profit.

However, that chilling sensation was closer to excitement than fear.

I was convinced that I had obtained an important clue. This emotion is real. If there was something that needed to be added to that program, it was the element of ’emotion’ of the crowds swarming this real estate agency.

“Hey, about that investment program…”

When I started talking enthusiastically, Chris looked blank. The melting ice cream she was holding dripped onto her hand, and with that, she finally came to her senses.

Then, after hurriedly licking it off, she looked up and smiled shyly, looking exactly like when Lisa scolded her for having bad manners.

“I figured as much.”

“Huh?”

Chris suddenly said, looking up at me from under her brows.

“This is market research for investing, right?”

Holding her half-eaten cone, Chris looked up at me.

“It didn’t really feel like a leisurely stroll the whole time, so, well, I kind of had a feeling…”

Her troubled smile was the same as usual, but was it just my imagination that she looked a little lonely?

No, I realized it wasn’t my imagination when Chris took a massive bite out of her cone, as if to erase that expression from her face.

“But, I don’t hate talking about investing either. I can show you around as much as you want.”

Seeing Chris smile with such a competitive spirit made my chest hurt a little. She might have intended for this to be a date. She was certainly quick when we left the office.

And, I realized it much too late, but Chris had changed her hairstyle slightly into pigtails. Probably from when she stopped by the restroom before leaving the office.

Yet when we actually got here, I was entirely distracted by the movement of people and the state of the city, and in the end, Chris had eaten almost all the ice cream by herself.

As one would expect, I felt a sense of guilt.

“…Want to go catch a movie or something?”

I said that after thinking desperately, but Chris let out a small burst of laughter.

“You really are you, aren’t you, Hal-san.”

“…”

“Please don’t force yourself.”

Chris wasn’t as childish as she looked.

The reason I couldn’t help but think of her as young and child-like was probably because I knew the Chris from the past.

“If we’re going to go to a movie anyway, why don’t we go to the church? Also…”

Then, like inviting me to a secret base, she whispered conspiratorially:

“There are empty rooms at the church.”

“…”

“If we do that, I can keep you company talking about investing all you want.”

Our common ground was investing, and if that was the case, Chris could puff out her chest and interact with me as an equal.

She could say goodbye to the version of herself that was withdrawn, timid, and acted while constantly gauging other people’s moods.

I took the cone from Chris’s hand and bit off about half of it in one go.

When I gave my impression—”It’s delicious”—for the first time, Chris laughed in exasperation.

“Then, shall we go to the church?”

“Yes!”

Chris answered energetically, drawing the gazes of the surrounding customers. Normally she would turn bright red and look down, but Chris looked completely unbothered as she took my hand.

“If it’s Saturday, Cerault is there too, right?”

“Heh?”

“There’s an analysis I want to ask him for a little favor on.”

Preliminary research before formally requesting an analysis from Chris.

I said it with that intention, but Chris, holding my hand, turned a sulky face toward me.

“If you need something, please ask me.”

“It’s like busywork. You earn more than Cerault, don’t you?”

Therefore, asking Chris would be inefficient.

Or so I thought, but Chris, squeezing my hand tight, looked at me clearly and said:

“I am standing here right now having relived what you were thinking, Hal-san.”

So, ask me.

Chris was steadily becoming bolder.

Lisa had said that Chris’s growth itself made her feel lonely, and I felt like I understood the meaning of those words just a little bit.

“Well, that’s true.”

Saying that as I started walking, I looked at Chris next to me.

“Also, that hairstyle looks good on you.”

The instant I said that, as if a switch had been pressed, Chris’s face turned red in a flash.

I wanted to laugh so much I felt like this brazen face of mine was about to move. Chris, for her part, seemingly didn’t know what to do or how to handle it, and walked while looking down and playing with her hair.

Clapton Square was the cutting edge of the Moon.

And Chris, walking next to me, was the same.

Walking down the crowded, bustling passage, I thought about that the entire time.

---

The effects apparently showed up immediately.

The first day still felt like a test run, but from the second and third days to today, the fourth day, she said she recorded a daily plus of 13%—the highest for Chris’s program.

Compared to the trades I was making four years ago, I didn’t think it was an overly surprising number, but what was truly astonishing about Chris’s program was its low volatility.

Volatility is, so to speak, the magnitude of price fluctuation, indicating how big the waves are. In other words, in Chris’s trading, the day after making a 13% profit, there was a high probability the profit would settle somewhere within a few percent of that 13%. How long that would continue was naturally something only God knew, but anyway, for the past few days, right as my shift at the government office ended, a prosperous report email would arrive from Chris.

Moreover—and this was very typical of Chris—after sending the email, she usually showed up in person.

If we’re going to meet anyway, she could just tell me in person, I thought every time we met up at a nearby cafe, but I didn’t say it out loud.

Chris had that kind of endearing side to her, but an investment return exceeding 10% every day on Chris’s managed assets was no longer in the realm of a child playing with fire. A profit of hundreds of thousands of Mool would soon swell into millions of Mool, and it wouldn’t be strange if even higher digits reared their heads.

Success calls money, and that money calls success again.

In investing, that tendency is particularly pronounced.

What I incorporated into Chris’s program was, in short, exactly this.

“The momentum strategy.”

Where Chris and I were was by the window on the fourth floor facing the street in a cafe located in a relatively quiet part of the Outer District. From the side-by-side seating arrangement, we had a good view of the madder-red dyed figures of people hurrying home.

Perhaps because there were many people in jobs halfway between white-collar and blue-collar, even though everyone wore coats or jackets, they looked somewhat unrefined.

However, seeing their down-to-earth appearances brought me a sense of relief. Newton City’s Clapton Square wasn’t bad, but it seemed I was no longer innocent enough to frolic happily there.

Even when I received report emails from Chris, although I felt the exhilaration of my idea cleanly piercing through the gaps in the market, I never danced for joy while calculating the profits.

“Momentum… Of course, I understand the concept, but…”

“‘The stocks that will grow in value from here on out are the stocks that are growing in value right now.’ I admit it does feel like a tautology.”

“Mathematically we can derive a correlation, but… it’s a relatively new method, isn’t it?”

“The method itself has probably existed since ancient times, but I first started seeing that word in books about the bubble of the last century. It has no mathematical backing, nor any corporate financial backing. What backs that method is the ‘optimism’ of the people investing.”

“Weighting stocks with a P/E ratio exceeding 100 is too scary for me to do…”

Chris spoke of the indicator known as the Price-to-Earnings ratio. It’s one of the benchmarks used when judging whether a stock is overvalued or undervalued, indicating how much profit the company is generating relative to its current stock price. To understand this, you just have to think of stocks as chickens that lay golden eggs. The golden eggs are the company’s profits. In the poultry farm, there are many chickens, and each lays golden eggs of varying sizes.

Now, if the chicken in the neighboring cage lays a bigger golden egg than your chicken despite costing the same price, no matter how you think about it, you should own the neighboring chicken. You sell your chicken and buy the neighboring chicken. As this goes on, overvalued chickens are sold and become cheaper, undervalued chickens are bought and become more expensive, and eventually they approach an appropriate price.

Therefore, there are only two reasons to intentionally hold an overvalued chicken.

Either you can expect it to lay huge golden eggs in the future, or otherwise, you are certain you can resell it to someone who expects it will.

The problem is that while it’s certainly possible for a chicken to lay larger golden eggs every year, there is a limit to everything.

Empirically, a P/E ratio of 10x to 20x is considered appropriate. It’s the same as how chicken eggs come in various sizes, but there is still a somewhat common-sense size. Right now in the market, there are stocks with P/E ratios reaching 100x lying all over the place. People genuinely believe that golden eggs of unlimited size will come popping out of the chicken’s asshole.

In Clapton Square too, those who believed housing prices would continue to rise were taking on disproportionate debt to buy homes.

That’s why, compared to my four-years-ago self, I advanced the dial of the madness level of the crowds swarming the market forward by one click.

“Well, if we know this method is correct, we should increase the number of stocks.”

“That’s true. However, it would be nice if we could extract those mathematically too, but…”

Chris dejectedly dropped her shoulders. Over the past few days, she had desperately tried to deduce the stocks steeped in the “optimism” I spoke of using mathematical methods, and had failed every time.

What came out were simply stocks that were consistently rising. Only ones with good performance, good financial standing, and that you could hold onto with peace of mind even twenty years from now.

However, what I wanted to find wasn’t that kind of thing; it was companies that were currently in the red and battered, but looked like they would definitely transform massively in a few years, making you feel like ‘I’d better buy this quickly’… that kind of stock. Or rather, stocks that someone else might think people would think that way about. And, this is the most important thing of all, those speculations changed daily to an absurd degree.

Because, in the end, price changes are nothing other than the changes in those speculations.

For example, if you bought a stock at a price you were satisfied with and thought its value hadn’t changed at all, why would you need to sell it? This is especially true for people buying stocks whose prices are going up.

Suppose an investor didn’t buy a certain stock at 100 Mool. At this point, the investor has judged that it doesn’t have 100 Mool worth of value. And yet, suppose that stock goes up by 10 Mool every day. This continues for a month, and it becomes 400 Mool. The investor who didn’t buy it at 100 Mool loses their patience and ends up buying it at 400 Mool. It’s a common occurrence. However, you should ask “why?”. Why buy it at 400 Mool when you didn’t buy it at 100 Mool?

It’s probably because they thought the price would go up even more. Within this investor, there was a change in speculation regarding the stock’s value, not its price.

In other words, frequent buying and selling is a manifestation of the fact that many people are re-evaluating its value.

Therefore, stock price prediction is predicting changes in human speculation just as much as predicting changes in corporate performance.

And, for now, humans are the only ones capable of doing that.

The reason I could remain unbothered even when faced with the refinement of Chris’s program was probably because I understood that implicitly. No matter how clearly something is mathematically shown to be a mistake, there are many times when people simply cannot follow it. So, I instinctively knew that there was still work left for me to do.

Of course, in order to understand that, I ended up paying a tremendous price.

So, what I did after that date with Chris on Saturday was gather corporate websites and stories associated with those companies, apply the weighting of ‘optimism’, and find the stocks we should trade. You could even say it was finding the stocks that idiots were likely to love.

There actually is such a thing as ‘preference’ in stock issues. It’s often possible to point out, ‘This is the stock that guy would like, right?’

That is not particularly unusual; a great economist from over a century ago already explained that truth by likening it to a beauty contest.

John Maynard Keynes said:

Stock investing is like a game where you guess who will win first place in a beauty pageant, and you absolutely should not vote for the person you think is the most beautiful. However, it’s not even about voting for the person that others think is the most beautiful. Who you should vote for is the “average” of what people think others will think is the most beautiful person, and in some cases, the average of that average, or even a higher-order judgment might be required.

Of course, seeing through people’s speculations is very difficult.

Isaac Newton’s famous line when he lost a fortune in stocks was, “I can calculate the motions of heavenly bodies, but not the madness of people.”

But even so, if it’s someone you’ve known for a long time, a person can guess their preferences. In that regard, I’ve had a fairly long relationship with this thing called the stock market, and being away from it for four years might have actually been a good thing.

It’s similar to the metaphor of the frog that doesn’t realize it’s boiling if it stays in the water the whole time. It refers to the experiment where a frog in water that is slowly heated doesn’t realize it until the water boils and it dies.

It was precisely because I casually peeked in for the first time in a while one day that I could calmly gauge the degree of that madness. Precisely because I had been constantly observing the lifestyles of the poor in the Outer District, I was able to understand the magnitude of Newton City’s madness.

“Well, it’s probably a difficult problem for mathematics.”

Perhaps someday such a thing will become possible too, but for now, it’s no match for humans.

“Hmm… so you can tell ‘That’s the one’ just by looking at a homepage, Hal-san?”

“Pretty much. By looking at a company’s philosophy, goals, their claims of ‘This is the kind of company we are’, and then looking at their stock price movements, I can get a general idea.”

“Mmm…?”

Chris groaned, holding her café au lait cup as if wrapping it with both hands. I sipped my overly sweet caramel-flavored coffee and let out a small sigh.

How nostalgic, I thought.

Four years ago, Hagana and I used to have conversations like this too.

“It’s the same as the definition of pornography.”

“Hm?”

When I turned around at the sudden voice, Cerault—who looked like nothing but a street punk—stood there holding a coffee cup heaped with whipped cream like his afro from four years ago.

“The precedent still cited during crackdowns on pornography comes down to the words of a famous American judge.”

“What’s that?”

“What is the difference between art and pornography? Where is the boundary between the pursuit of artistic eroticism and base, despicable carnal desire? It’s a difficult problem that has existed since humanity acquired civilization. Moreover, the folks who fancy themselves civilized genuinely believe they can’t have a discussion without establishing a definition. However, the judge at the time boldly declared: Namely, whether it is pornography or not, ‘I know it when I see it.’“

Cerault sat on the opposite side of me from Chris, and raising his cup, he greeted Chris over me.

“Problems get complicated because people try to judge things you can understand by looking at without actually looking at them. Debates over definitions are always like that. So? What’s this favor you want to ask? Image recognition? Phrase search?”

“Both of them, I suppose.”

“‘Atmosphere’ is the worst possible match for digital. The matter you emailed me about is that one, right? You’re basically saying, ‘Quickly grab stuff from the net about what context short sentences are being spoken in,’ right?”

“What, you understood perfectly without us even needing to meet and talk.”

“You idiot. Don’t think such a troublesome matter can be settled with a single ‘Please do this’ and ‘Understood’ via email. What I wanted to convey to you directly by meeting in person is the nuance that this is a particularly troublesome one even among troublesome jobs. Got it?”

Cerault said this, wrapping his arm around my neck and bringing his face close.

Setting aside the fact that my face doesn’t move to begin with, I looked back at Cerault with an expressionless face and said:

“If that method can be established fully automatically, the profits will be astronomical. That will, by extension, lead to Chris’s income, and lead to the operation of the church.”

“The reason I made time in the middle of being busy as hell, snuck out of the company, and came here is because I immediately knew you’d use that logic as a shield!”

“I’m just taking the best move available to me. Because Lisa taught me that one should make full use of their connections with people.”

“It’s true that I’m a super programmer, but this thing called daily work is…”

While Cerault was glaring at me, practically rubbing his forehead against mine, his words suddenly stopped.

His gaze was directed past me to the other side.

“Um… I’m sorry… it’s all because I’m inadequate…”

“Nah, it’s not your fault, Chris-chan.”

Cerault quickly released his arm from my neck, sat up straight, and said with a beaming smile.

He was like this with Hagana too, but he just has a weakness for women.

“This guy acts all pretentious, saying half-baked things like ‘atmosphere’ or ‘I know it when I see it’, right? Telling you to fully automate that with a program… this guy is entirely the one at fault here.”

“Um, but…”

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine. I have acquaintances who are experts in context analysis, or researchers in image recognition. If I just whip up a quick request, it’ll be done in a flash. They’ll take it on dirt cheap.”

Chris flailed in panic at Cerault, who smacked my head repeatedly and spoke in a smooth tone.

“Dirt cheap… um, since it’s a job, proper compensation should—”

“What, none of them are really interested in money. Rather than piling up cash to raise their motivation, there’s a much more effective method. You yourself have it, Chris-chan.”

“H-Huh?”

Perhaps because we had been talking about pornography and whatnot, Chris blushed a little and shrank her shoulders. It was probably mostly unconscious, but I think she’d be better off stopping that exceedingly girlish gesture of shrinking her shoulders and putting both hands in front of her chest. Cerault’s face instantly turned sloppy.

Just what kind of thing are you planning to demand? I glared at Cerault.

However, the words that came out were a foreign language.

“The Riemann hypothesis or the Gordian Knot or whatever is fine, but could you keep them company talking about that kind of stuff?”

Not just me, but Chris also looked blank.

“…H-Huh?”

“You’re strong in the direction of pure mathematics, right, Chris-chan? Since those guys are hardcore perverts, they can’t help but want to talk to people about how far their mathematics have reached. And to a partner who can properly evaluate it, at that. It’s like how bodybuilders want to show off their muscles.”

“R-Right…”

“And, if the one evaluating them is a cute girl, it’s even better.”

Cerault closed one eye, gave a thumbs up, and said that.

Chris was dumbfounded, but I was exasperated too.

“You shouldn’t make light of the feeling of ‘If it’s for that girl!’, right?”

Cerault looked at me and said it in a sarcastic manner.

However, it was also a fact that I couldn’t deny it.

“People act on unexpectedly silly reasons. Even for something that a company would normally have to invest in seriously to develop properly, they might be able to make it easily. After all, in the end, it’s people who make things.”

I thought he said something pretty good for Cerault.

When I looked at Chris, she gave a slight jolt and shrank her body, then slid her gaze toward Cerault.

“Um… really, just with that?”

“Yeah. I think those guys will probably get dangerously serious.”

Cerault is enrolled in one of the premier software companies on the Moon. It’s the kind of company that once became a hot topic for putting out an advertisement with just a tiny, mysterious geometric shape drawn on it, which turned out to be the date and contact method for their entrance exam. Apparently, they only tested the people who deciphered that code and contacted them without any prior knowledge, and then screened them even further.

I’ve seen it too, but I couldn’t even tell what to use as a clue. Hagana apparently figured it out immediately, but I can only think of her as a shaman receiving mysterious radio waves from space. With guys like that, they might indeed show almost no interest in worldly matters like money.

“Well, as long as you swallow that condition for the reward, I’ll call out, gather people, and set out on development. After all, unfortunately…”

Cerault said, and smiled embarrassedly.

“It looks like it’ll make money, too.”

Cerault, who had his company taken over and was running an illegal internet cafe in a corner of the Outer District as if sulking, had turned over a new leaf and gone out to work because he regretted not having the necessary money when he needed it.

Me, Chris, Cerault, Lisa, and the people involved with us back then—we were all jerked around by this thing called money and scattered. Even if money doesn’t steal your soul, it can steal your livelihood.

We understand that deeply.

Cerault chose the path of steadily earning, and Chris chose the path of wrestling money into submission.

Therefore, I nodded at Cerault’s words without making fun of them.

“Please, take care of it.”

“Yeah.”

Cerault replied to Chris’s words, and looked at me.

I looked back at Cerault and said:

“I’m counting on you.”

To my brief words, he shrugged his shoulders with a ‘good grief’ and stood up from his chair.

“Well, you gotta have this kind of fun once in a while.”

As Cerault said that and was about to walk away, intending to thank him for going out of his way to come here, a question I suddenly wanted to ask popped into my head.

“Ah, wait a sec.”

“Yeah?”

“There was something I wanted to ask.”

“Oh? What is it? That’s rare.”

To Cerault who turned around, I mumbled a little.

It was a question I had countless chances to ask over the past three years, but never did.

“I don’t think it’s something I should ask casually, but…”

“What is it? This is unusual for you.”

“Having your company go under… what did it feel like?”

At my words, Chris made a slightly surprised face.

I had made an irretrievable mistake. And Cerault had, too. So he shouldn’t think of it as mere curiosity, and in fact, I asked because I wanted to hear an opinion from a senior in life.

As I stared intently into Cerault’s eyes, he suddenly softened the corners of his mouth, put a hand on his hip, and said.

“Having your child killed might feel something like that.”

“…Child?”

“An irreplaceable existence that I poured my heart and soul into raising.”

“…”

“Running a company is a completely different world from a salaried worker’s perspective. The amount of care it takes is no joke. Not a single thing goes according to the initial plan, subordinates selfishly keep demanding things, and it’s trouble, trouble, and more trouble. I asked myself, ‘Why am I doing this?’ more than once or twice. But the reason I protected it even when I had fallings out with the guys I started the business with, or got betrayed, or when terrible things happened, was because I had an attachment to it. Corporate personhood—whoever coined that phrase had it right, I think. A company is just supposed to be a container, but there was a distinct personality there. It definitely had a name, a face… and blood flowing through it.”

The speaking Cerault didn’t have his usual sluggish look in his eyes; he had a somewhat gentle expression.

It was a face reminiscing about the past.

“…So, when it was crushed and taken away from me, I was terribly depressed… But in the end, one way or another, I’m still standing here right now. If that’s the case…”

Cerault said, and drank his coffee.

“There’s nothing you can’t do, right.”

Standing up on your own two feet after an irretrievable mistake.

“I never thought… I’d hear those words from you.”

“Well, I never thought I’d be asked a question like this by you, either.”

Cerault grinned, and threw an exaggerated wink at the worried-looking Chris.

“So there you have it.”

“Yeah…”

I answered, then cleared my throat and added:

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Cerault laughed, and I also pulled up the corner of my lips with a finger to hide my embarrassment.

“Well then, regarding various things, that’s how it is.”

To Cerault saying that, Chris, who had been watching our exchange until then, said as if suddenly coming to her senses.

“U-Um, Cerault-san, are you going to the church today?”

“Hm? No, I can’t. I have work, see.”

Cerault chugged his cup of coffee, leaving whipped cream around his mouth.

“Say hi to Lisa for me. Tell her Super Programmer Cerault is gonna make a super program and earn super money for the church.”

“Understood.”

Though looking regretful, Chris laughed, seemingly tickled by Cerault’s exaggerated way of speaking.

“Well, details via email.”

Cerault waved his hand and left the cafe. It seemed he really was busy.

When the tall Cerault was gone, a slight sense of emptiness hung in the air.

Chris and I had a brief silence, as if probing to see who should speak first, and eventually, Chris spoke first.

“What are you going to do after this, Hal-san?”

“Ah, I’m heading home today too.”

Since Sunday, I had been going to the church almost every day. Mainly because Chris would use improving the program as an excuse to meet up at this cafe near the government branch office. However, because of that, I was getting home late every time, and my sleeping hours were decreasing. I wanted to take it a little easy today.

“Since there’s an empty room at the church, you could just stay over…”

“Someone who needs it more than I do might come, right?”

“A-At that time… in my room, perhaps…”

Chris mumbled, but Lisa would definitely get mad.

“No matter how fun something is, you’ll get bored if you do it every day.”

I patted Chris’s head, and she turned her face away like a fussy cat, but she didn’t try to escape from under my hand.

“You always treat me like a child, don’t you.”

“When I was your age, I used to tell Lisa the exact same thing.”

I shrugged my shoulders, and pulled up the corner of my mouth with my finger.

---

Even though over a week had passed since I entered my trial period under Eleanor, in the end, I still hadn’t invested a single Mool.

There were a few stocks I wanted to try investing in, and even if I had work during the day and couldn’t go to the office, I could place orders as much as I wanted by asking Le Goff or someone. However, I just couldn’t bring myself to invest.

It wasn’t that I’d lost interest in making money; rather, I was able to view things with a broader perspective than four years ago, and my interests had broadened as well. During lunch breaks with Rena, I had even started watching stock market information programs, and was surprised by how unexpectedly interesting they were.

Due in part to a soft market, Chris’s program had slowed down somewhat in the latter half of the week, but it was still steadily increasing profits. I didn’t know how much Eleanor’s personal assets amounted to, but it was likely becoming a not-so-bad profit. If she went out to solicit funds with that investment performance, wouldn’t a staggering amount of money be gathered?

Thinking about it that way, perhaps the reason I didn’t feel like investing was because, somewhere inside, I felt there was no point in me investing when we had Chris’s program. Even if I picked stocks using optimism as a clue, trading them afterward following Chris’s program would definitely be more effective than doing it myself.

Chris was also worried about me not investing, and perhaps because of that, she had apparently told Le Goff that the program had been improved following my advice. Le Goff emailed back saying that while that was well and good, it would make it difficult for them to pay me compensation individually.

I thought that was perfectly natural, and as for me, I didn’t exactly have the desire to quit the government office to immerse myself in investing right now.

Chris’s program had proven that the madness in Clapton Square was real. If so, I even thought that I should distance myself from the market’s madness as much as possible. If the mummy hunter became a mummy, it would just be a repeat of four years ago.

However, I was in that place as an employee. Thinking I should have a proper talk with Eleanor about that before my trial period ended, I went to Eleanor’s office for the first time in a week.

However.

“Huh, just you?”

When I entered the cramped office, only Chris was sitting alone in a chair.

Since I went leisurely past noon, there was a lingering scent like chili peppers when I entered the office. They probably ordered ethnic delivery.

“Everyone has stepped out… If you were coming, you should have told me…”

While holding down her hair, she looked at me with slightly reproachful eyes.

There were dark bags under her eyes, too.

“You look like you’ve been messing with the program without getting enough sleep, got scolded by Lisa, and ran away here.”

“Urrgh…”

“Did the accuracy improve?”

When I asked, Chris’s face instantly brightened, and she aggressively turned her display toward me.

“I analyzed the stocks you sent me, Hal-san, by going back to the past, and theoretically, it looks like we can secure over 70% in additional profits.”

Chris said with a full smile. Multiple line graphs were drawn on the display, and all of them were rising steadily to the right, but to be honest, I didn’t know what they were showing.

“The bottleneck is still volatility and continuity on the time axis. Especially since the stocks you select, Hal-san, often have high volatility. Applying the model to past data and backtesting works well, but trying to apply it to reality will likely increase the risk considerably. It should be especially huge for stocks where price movements are wild due to scarcity. Furthermore, if you’re unlucky and can’t close your position within the day, the probability of suffering a disastrous fate the next day becomes extremely high.”

Perhaps due to lack of sleep, she was talking faster than usual and seemed excited.

I gave a reply for the time being.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, mathematically the prices are continuous, but reality is discrete, and furthermore, it’s almost impossible to predict where that will happen. It’s the cause of results that don’t fit the trading model, so it’s become an efficiency bottleneck. I’m trying to see if I can somehow eliminate it, but even for stocks with thick open interest, data transfer from the Lunar Stock Exchange to here takes an average of 0.05 seconds. During that time it’s like being blindfolded, so it’s out of my hands. Right now, I’m wondering if I can apply methods used for noise removal in communications, but…”

To Chris, who rattled on rapidly and finally dropped her shoulders sadly and sighed, I replied in a way that wouldn’t dampen her spirits.

“I see.”

I didn’t understand at all.

Gently setting that thought aside, I changed the subject.

“How are things going with Cerault?”

“He asked me whether I’d prefer meat or fish for the place we eat at.”

That probably means it’s going smoothly.

“Well, I’ll search with my own eyes for a while.”

When I said that, Chris, who had been rattling on enthusiastically, did a 180 and dropped her shoulders in dejection.

“Please do…”

“So, do you know when the others might be back?”

“Le Goff-san apparently won’t be back until night. I think Marco-kun will be back in a while, but did you need something?”

“Yeah, regarding things going forward.”

When I said that, Chris looked at me with a dumbfounded expression.

“Um, that’s…”

“I haven’t been investing myself, right? I’m wondering if that’s okay.”

Chris must have faintly worried about that, which is exactly why she reported to Le Goff.

She immediately said this:

“You should just invest too, Hal-san.”

“Even though we have your program, Chris?”

“Ugh…”

Chris groaned, and slowly said.

“Long-term investments, maybe.”

“On the Moon, which advances at six times the speed of Earth? If it’s for large-scale folks with investment funds of ten billion Mool or something, that might be fine, but…”

“Swing trading for a few days to a few weeks would be fine too, wouldn’t it?”

“Even if I did, wouldn’t you just need to set the program’s time axis longer, Chris?”

“Urrgh… If I set the time axis longer, the risk just increases and the profits plummet…”

“Then there’s even less need for me to do it. Besides, digging my head into the display and gorging like a pig is fun, but I realized it’s also fun to take a step back and view the whole picture, or think about which major direction we should be heading.”

“…You sound like an analyst.”

“Maybe. I’ve been watching those kinds of programs lately, too.”

“Eh, really?”

“It’s popular at work too. That guy with the platinum blonde hair and sunglasses, what was his name…”

I completely forgot his name.

The reason Chris was making a weird face was probably because she was surprised I watched that kind of program.

“But, you know…”

“Hm?”

Chris muttered with a thoughtful face, keeping her gaze down, and suddenly looked up.

“I think that kind of Hal-san is cool, too.”

An embarrassed upward glance.

“Appearing on TV and shouting out recommended stocks?”

“No! I just thought a more, well, quiet vibe suits you too.”

“Quiet, huh.”

I shrugged and said that.

“I wonder why I was so hot-blooded in the past.”

And what on earth was I so afraid of about the market?

In a quiet office room drifting with the lingering scent of lunch, I could freely move large sums of money with zero risk and rake in massive compensation. Was my head feeling foggy because of an environment like that?

She possesses a corresponding level of influence within the upper-class world of the Moon.

Even though that must be an extraordinary thing, Eleanor was leisurely flipping through the file with an absentminded, very ‘young lady’ like atmosphere.

“You don’t keep them at that office?”

Thinking it would be tactless to suddenly bring up the topic of my employment contract, I directed my words that way.

Then, Eleanor smiled as if troubled.

“I can’t take care of them myself, and I can’t trouble others for the sake of my hobbies.”

“Is… that so? I feel like there’s someone who would gladly do it.”

“Marco? I’m sure he would do it, but everyone is far too valuable to be made to take care of fish.”

Despite saying that, the person currently answering the phones at that office is a trader who earned 70% of their investment capital in half a year. Translated into market value, it would be an outrageous figure. A headhunting agency could easily prepare a seven-figure salary for her.

“Besides, this is the only place I can space out. It’s mostly the same for the other people too, I suppose.”

“Oh?”

“Fufu. Is it surprising?”

Eleanor smiled and closed the file.

“Even I am a working person, after all. I can’t even get back to the office very often… So, when I have a brief moment to space out and watch the fish, it ends up being here. And then I think, ‘Alright, time to do my best again.’“

“You seem busy.”

“Thankfully.”

Just as she made that neat reply, the waiter brought water and a wet towel right on cue.

“Will you order something? It’s not exactly a reward for delivering this, though.”

“Then, a blend.”

I had calmed down enough to be on par with the rest of the world, to the point where I could say this without hesitation.

“Certainly.”

The waiter stepped back, and a slight silence was born.

I looked at the coffee on the table and said:

“It’ll get cold.”

“Eh?”

“The coffee.”

“Ah, I’m actually not very good with it, but I like the aroma.”

While exasperatedly thinking That’s an expensive aromatherapy, if this brief break to gaze at fish and enjoy the scent of coffee she won’t even drink is her rest, she truly must be busy.

“There’s one thing I’d like to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“What kind of work do you do, Eleanor-san?”

I had fully assumed she was gathering funds at cocktail parties, but it didn’t seem to be that kind of vibe.

It seemed more like the type of work driven by a minute-by-minute schedule, and the first time I went to Eleanor’s office, she was also saying something about a teleconference.

However, unless she was dealing with a mountain of noisy capitalists, I felt such meetings were unnecessary. And judging by Chris’s managed amount, I suspect that Schweitzer Investment is currently being run entirely out of Eleanor’s pocket money.

What on earth is her job?

“However, if you don’t want to say, I won’t press you, of course.”

“…It’s Le Goff, isn’t it?”

“Meaning?”

“No… Le Goff said something to you, didn’t he? He can be strangely overly considerate.”

“He did tell me. He said My Lady doesn’t really like to talk about it.”

“Goodness… It’s really nothing. It’s just that it’s troublesome if it’s spoken about openly.”

I asked in a state of pure curiosity. I couldn’t imagine what it could be at all.

Moreover, that business is supposedly for the sake of expanding that Schweitzer Investment. If the materials I brought are also a part of that business, then that room kept pitch black with a mountain of analog data is also for the sake of that business.

If Eleanor were investing, I could still understand. But Le Goff said Eleanor doesn’t invest.

As I was pondering this, Eleanor gave a soft smile, and took out something strange from the bag placed beside her. By the time I realized it was a hair clip, Eleanor had gathered her platinum blonde hair with her hands, putting it up in a style that bordered on aggressive. Just as I thought her hair was piled high on top of her head, Eleanor put on another item she had taken out.

Sunglasses.

With that, I was literally dumbfounded.

“Eh, that’s…”

“Susie Wu’s Stock Market Information Program!”

Puffing out her chest, placing both hands on her hips, and thrusting her right shoulder forward in that posture, along with that line. Even I, who was out of touch with the world, knew it because I’d even seen it on the PC screen at the rundown government branch office. Revered as the guardian deity of the people’s wallets, a celebrity who is criticized for inciting stock investment even on this desire-swirling Moon. She is the grandmaster of those so-called stock analysts, who originally analyze the good and bad of stocks and provide that information to clients. On the Moon, which is overflowing with people who think, ‘If I can’t get rich by working, I’ll hit it big with stocks and get rich,’ she is more popular than a rock star.

I was far more surprised than if Eleanor had stripped down to her underwear right then and there.

“When I say it’s troublesome if people talk about it, this is what I mean.”

When she took off the hair clip and removed the sunglasses, she instantly returned to being a soft young lady. Walking down the street, one would never, ever think that the person on that TV program was Eleanor.

“On TV I wear a pantsuit, and I hide shoes with incredibly high heels under the hem, and I put in an excessive amount of shoulder pads, so as long as I act normally, I’m rarely recognized.”

“…Susie Wu…”

“It’s a female name that sounds like she’d be very active in the financial world, isn’t it? Born in Hong Kong, attended university via America, and then immigrated to the Moon—something like that. I thought about it a lot.”

While Eleanor spoke somewhat happily, I was so taken aback I couldn’t string words together.

At that moment, the coffee was brought over, and Eleanor gave a slight sniff and said:

“Guatemala and Honduras.”

“Even our coffee maestro takes his hat off to you.”

The waiter smiled warmly. I was amazed she could tell the beans used in the blend just by the aroma. As the waiter stepped back, Eleanor let out a phew sigh and leaned deeply back into the chair.

Perhaps keeping her back straight and chest puffed out had tired her.

“Actually, an expert just told me what’s in the blend.”

To Eleanor, who smiled with plenty of playfulness, I lightly shrugged my shoulders. Then I sipped my coffee, but naturally, all I could tell was that it was bitter and sour.

Also, I didn’t quite understand Susie Wu’s job either.

“Appearing on TV to raise funds?”

“No, of course not.”

Eleanor smiled bitterly, took a comb out of her bag, and combed her hair a little.

“Ah, but in a sense, it might be.”

“…In a sense?”

“Do you want to hear it?”

An elegant facial expression shares something in common with an expression that looks down on people. Girls like Eleanor always have this somewhat mischievous, almost provocative aura about them.

“If you’re a person involved in stocks, I can’t imagine you refusing a conversation with a super popular analyst.”

“If you’re just going to make fun of me, I’ll pass.”

“I apologize.”

When I said that, Eleanor chuckled.

“No, actually, if you are interested in this story, Hal-san, I really wanted to tell you. I hear you haven’t made any investments yet.”

The expression left Eleanor’s face.

However, it was only for an instant, and she quickly returned to a smile.

Eleanor seemed to have seen through the fact that I was hesitating about whether to stay there.

“Before hearing your decision, Hal-san, would you mind letting me speak first?”

Eleanor had, as expected, figured out what I was about to say.

“…Is this part of the workplace orientation?”

“Perhaps a workplace where you can work alongside a super popular analyst.”

The fact that a somewhat sarcastic reply suited her so well was perhaps exactly what one would expect from European nobility.

Eleanor put the comb back in her bag while laughing, leaned her body against the backrest, and let out a sigh that somehow seemed tired.

Was she feeling unwell, or was she just that exhausted?

Almost at the same time I thought that, Eleanor spoke while listlessly looking past me.

“Originally, it was something I did because I liked it. Ever since Grandfather fell ill… and I took over managing Schweitzer & Zerga as his proxy after he returned to Earth.”

“Ever since then? Working as an analyst?”

“It’s different from the position of an ‘analyst’ inside an investment bank, but… Put simply, I really love analyzing companies, and that was all I did. I would even show up at meetings for the internal research team. Though they really hated it.”

“Well, I imagine so.”

“However, there were times when that hobby also became an actual benefit. I was a manager, after all. I was often taken lightly because of my youth and gender, but people thought that if it’s an investment bank led by someone this knowledgeable about companies, entrusting them with money wouldn’t end badly.”

In the world of investment, people like Chris and Hagana are exceptional, even disregarding their age.

Four years ago, all the great investors whose names I knew were men, and the situation probably hasn’t changed much even now.

“Then, all that analog data in that room at the office is…?”

“Yes. Data about companies, or about industry conditions. This thing you brought me is also a compilation of data I gathered independently. Would you like to take a look?”

“I’m… interested.”

“Go ahead.”

Even under the Moon’s one-sixth gravity, Eleanor lifted the file as if it were heavy and handed it to me.

The raw data of a company analysis by a super popular analyst. If you had even a little interest in fundamental investing—which is analyzing a company’s condition and investing based on that, one of the three main pillars of stock investment methods—it would be something you’d want to see even if you had to pay a large sum of money.

And there are actually people who pay money to seek advice from analysts. There are many believers glued to the TV, listening reverently to their oracle. Reaching that thought, it suddenly hit me. It wasn’t some petty concern like whether it was okay to show me professional analysis data for free. Rather, Eleanor had been keeping Chris and the others out of her room, and the reason for that was exactly because this kind of data was in there, wasn’t it?

Keeping my hand on the file I was about to open, I looked at Eleanor.

“Is it really okay for me to look? The reason the room is off-limits is because of these, isn’t it?”

“I’ve been shown many of your things, Hal-san.”

She was probably referring to the log data from the Ratzinger Economic Research Institute’s investment contest.

“Besides, I keep it off-limits because I think it would only be harmful to the others.”

“Harmful?”

I couldn’t gauge the meaning of the word.

“Le Goff has to judge, without preconceptions, whether a certain investment is ethically appropriate and whether it carries an appropriate amount of risk. If he learned about the company’s situation and such, his judgment might become clouded.”

“Wouldn’t Chris be fine?”

“Chris-san is continuously polishing your investment method, Hal-san. But this data is built upon my subjectivity. If she listened to my words, I think hesitation would arise in her.”

“What about Marco?”

When I asked, Eleanor gave a small smile again.

“I hear that if you drink alcohol from a young age, you’re prone to becoming an alcoholic.”

From Eleanor, who spoke while leaning back against the seat and slowly closing her eyes as if she might fall asleep at any moment, I felt an extraordinary confidence.

There was the composure of a professional who wouldn’t be easily shaken, who knew exactly what her job was.

I stopped my hand from opening Eleanor’s data file and asked one thing.

“Why don’t you invest yourself, Eleanor-san? Since you’re popular as an analyst, it means your analysis is that accurate, right? I’ve heard Susie Wu is ‘The Wizard’.”

In that case, rather than speaking in front of people, shouldn’t she just quietly invest herself?

Then, there would truly be no need for someone like me.

When I thought that and asked, Eleanor kept her eyes closed and clasped her slender fingers on her lap.

“Because my goal does not lie there.”

I doubted my ears.

“Investing? Is not your goal?”

Eleanor started to nod, but stopped halfway. It was such a mechanical stop that I thought perhaps her long hair had caught between her back and the backrest.

“Saying investing is not my goal is misleading. If investing means putting in your own wealth to gain a large return, then I am undoubtedly investing. However… investing money in stocks to gain a return in money is not my main goal.”

It was a complete riddle.

On this Moon, where human favors, trust, bonds, and everything else are converted into money, could there possibly be such a thing as an investment that doesn’t expect a return in money? Moreover, Eleanor, who is Susie Wu, is someone who raises her voice right in the middle of a world where money is justice.

“Then… what is?”

When I asked back, Eleanor slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze was directed quite high up, definitely looking past the fish tanks. I instinctively wanted to follow where her gaze was directed.

Like the painting of the clergyman I’d seen in Lisa’s church, half-rising from his seat to look out the window, I was very curious about what she was looking at.

“I don’t think it’s bad to use my knowledge to invest my own money, or money gathered from others. If I used my connections and diligently worked on public relations, on this crazy Moon, I could easily gather a few hundred million Mool. With the support of Chris-san’s program, I even feel it would be easy to generate a 50% or 60% profit even with large funds. If I did that, I think even ten billion Mool would be in sight.”

If you generate a 50% profit on ten billion Mool, that’s a five billion Mool profit, and if your cut is 20%, that’s one billion Mool.

One billion Mool.

At this point, it was a massive sum of money that I couldn’t even imagine how to spend.

“But, that wouldn’t even begin to cover it,” Eleanor said with a smile. “With that amount, it is far from my desired goal.”

Eleanor’s eyes, which had been looking far off into the distance, returned to me.

“A goal that can’t be realized with a billion Mool?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…”

It was an amount of money that could practically bring the dead back to life.

“Are you surprised?”

Eleanor asked, tilting her head slightly with a smile. It was very refined; if I didn’t mince words, I’d say she was truly elegant and cute.

And yet, there was an unmistakable seriousness there.

“That doesn’t sound like someone who harbored the dream of standing on untrodden ground.”

“Wha—”

I flinched as if my chest had been pierced and looked at Eleanor. Right after, the moment I peered into Eleanor’s jewel-like eyes that hid a demonic charm, I felt as if a blinding light had struck the back of my eyes.

Gulp, something like a thick liquid passed through the back of my nose, and I reflexively put a hand to it.

I didn’t have a nosebleed. But the back of my nose smelled strongly of chemicals.

When people get excited, they secrete adrenaline.

People who have gone to war, or who have narrowly escaped death in a major accident, say it later:

That it has a distinct chemical smell that is clearly recognizable.

To keep my heart, which was pounding so loudly I could hear the thump, thump, from leaping out of my mouth, I swallowed hard and spoke.

“Did you hear about my dream from… Chris?”

“From Lisa-san as well.”

At Eleanor’s words, I wondered if I had completely misunderstood something. I thought Eleanor’s goal was Chris’s program, which continued to multiply cash at a terrifying rate, and that I was hired to improve it.

However, Eleanor didn’t show her materials to Chris, yet she tried to show them to me.

Furthermore, Eleanor was staring at something extraordinary.

Something so extraordinary that it would only finally come into focus at the very place I had been dreaming of.

“Even ten billion Mool would be doubtful. If I had a hundred billion Mool, maybe? But the reason the amount keeps jumping up like that is because it’s a problem that is fundamentally difficult to solve with money.”

Eleanor looked away from me, speaking with her head slightly bowed. She was smiling, yet she looked sad because her long eyelashes were casting shadows over her eyes.

But I still had absolutely no idea what lay beyond Eleanor’s words. What on earth could not be accomplished even with a hundred billion Mool?

Even the legendary investor who possesses the greatest wealth in humanity, the man referred to as ‘Mr. Infallible’, has his personal assets capped at eighty billion Mool. When you reach that point, no one knows what meaning there is in increasing wealth any further.

Because wealth only has meaning when its purpose is determined.

“But I believe that even the need for such a massive sum of money becomes possible if I have the mask of Susie Wu.”

What was Eleanor trying to do?

Receiving my gaze, Eleanor smiled seemingly happily and said:

“Justice.”

“Eh?”

It wasn’t that I hadn’t heard her; it was so unexpected that I asked her to repeat it.

“The realization of justice. I think if certain people heard that, they would widen their eyes in anger.”

Eleanor closed her eyes again and laughed quietly.

I remembered the new stage of games that all the super-rich play.

“Philanthropy?”

“No.”

“Then, research into reincarnation?”

The final destination for billionaires who have amassed immense wealth is usually one of these two. Those who have no interest in making the world a better place research reincarnation in order to leave their wealth to their reincarnated selves.

Seeing me half-confused, Eleanor twisted the corner of her lips with deep irony.

“It’s not philanthropy. It’s much, much more personal. However, I also believe it’s not strictly for selfish desires, like reincarnation research. It’s something that can only be described as the realization of justice.”

Every now and then on the Moon, there are people who claim to have seen a bird flying outside the dome. It’s almost always a misunderstanding, but it’s also said to be the manifestation of a certain kind of desire.

The desire that outside the city where they live isn’t an absolute zero world where life cannot survive, but a place where birds can fly and rabbits sometimes run around.

To talk about justice on the Moon is akin to a bird flying outside the dome.

Eleanor, who couldn’t possibly be unaware of that fact, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and with her back straight, continued without hesitation.

“I want to wipe out the evil nesting on this Moon. For that, an individual’s power isn’t enough. Just the funds of many people aren’t enough, either. To expose evil as evil, many people must perceive it as evil. Therefore, Chris-san’s program lacks the power. I need a much greater power and a much more vast influence.”

Eleanor’s face was filled with sorrow.

Her eyelids dropped as if overcome with grief, and although she desperately tried to puff out her chest, her body was trembling.

“Therefore, even if I am called the Pied Piper of Hamelin… I must play the role of Susie Wu. And someday, on that decisive day, I will condemn that evil. For that, I need the power of someone like you, Hal-san.”

Dumbfounded, I asked back in a hoarse voice to Eleanor, who continued her monologue.

“My… power?”

“Yes. The power of someone who has an investment style like yours, Hal-san. Someone who can see through the numbers, not to mathematical laws, but… to more organic, human speculation…”

As she spoke with her eyes closed, Eleanor’s words gradually slowed down, and finally, she stopped moving with her mouth slightly open.

It felt different from simply being lost in thought.

Swallowed by the atmosphere, I called her name.

“Eleanor-san?”

“…Ah.”

When I called out, her eyes suddenly opened. Then, she looked at me and smiled a little embarrassedly, massaging the inner corners of her eyes with her slender fingers. I couldn’t believe it, but it seemed she had fallen asleep.

“Um, are you feeling unwell?”

“Ah, no… I thought I’d be fine for a little longer, but…”

She looked as though she was about to fall asleep again while talking, but because she was looking down, her head drooped forward abruptly, waking her up in the process. Clearly, something was wrong.

“Um, shouldn’t you go back to your room?”

“But, our conversation…”

Even as she said that, her eyelids wouldn’t open, as if they were glued shut.

This wasn’t normal.

“I’ll hear it later. You should go back to your room for now.”

“…I’m sorry.”

She probably didn’t even have the leeway to say she was fine. Fumbling, she grabbed the bag beside her and tried to stand up.

However, where did she intend to go doing that with her eyes closed? It seemed she had almost no strength left in her legs, either; she stumbled and put a hand on the table, gripping the back of the chair with her other hand.

Rather than trying to balance herself to keep from falling, she looked like she was blindfolded by drowsiness.

“…”

Unable to fully stand up, she ended up dropping her hips back down.

She almost looked dead drunk.

Before I knew it, her face had gone completely pale, making her look like a porcelain doll.

“I’ll call someone. Just stay right there.”

Unable to just watch, I said that and stood up, but I was stopped by an unexpectedly strong voice.

“I’m fine!”

“But—”

“I’m fine, really… It’s because of my medicine… I’m just incredibly… sleepy.”

“…”

At that, I suddenly noticed the state of the table.

The undrinkable coffee, and the glass with less water in it.

“Could you… just lend me… a hand?”

Her tone was feeble, but the content of her words was coherent. It didn’t seem like she was intoxicated or suffering from a severe illness.

“…Are you truly alright?”

I put the file back into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and lent Eleanor a hand. While I was at it, I also put Eleanor’s bag over my own shoulder.