Chapter 4

I couldn’t leave Eleanor alone, and above all, I ultimately couldn’t walk away from this room. I wanted to talk to Eleanor. My head was full of that thought.

Moreover, I was also curious about just how reckless an endeavor Eleanor was heading toward.

Therefore, at the writing desk covered in medicine, I was looking through Eleanor’s files. What was contained within were analysis reports of companies starting with ‘g’, and they were quite literally eye-opening.

It went without saying that she had obtained every piece of data available, but the amount of data regarding the media that served as the source for that data was also staggering. For example, if it was a company headquartered on Earth, naturally the media reporting on it would mostly be local newspapers in that country on Earth. Eleanor analyzed things relatively, judging even what other articles the reporter of that newspaper at that time wrote, in what context, and with what intention.

In other words, whether an article was written by a reporter favorable to large corporations, a reporter interested in environmental issues, or a reporter interested in labor issues, the nuance of the exact same article would differ considerably.

Eleanor was probably doing this to the absolute limits of her stamina and time.

In the file, symbols were assigned to the names and alma maters of company executives, and arrows were drawn to numbering that seemed to indicate other files. She was probably investigating who went to school with whom and what kind of personal network structure they formed. The reason I knew this wasn’t an exaggeration was because I saw a word I recognized in Eleanor’s memorandums. Social Capital. One of the sociological theories that views human relationships as capital. Above all, Burton had said that this world is small.

Therefore, it’s natural to investigate that, and almost anything one can think of in this world has already been extensively researched by scholars. The overwhelming amount of data seemed to say exactly that, along with the analytical prowess to brilliantly synthesize it all.

And above all, the willpower and stamina to make such work possible.

Thinking that far, I reconsidered with a ‘no’. Her willpower and stamina were already nearly exhausted. I could only think that she was somehow compensating by forcing herself awake with caffeine and forcefully sleeping with sleeping pills.

About an hour must have passed since I carried Eleanor into the room. An alarm clock rang at a volume so loud it felt like it would cause ringing in my ears, and while I was startled enough to feel like my heart would stop, I noticed the blanket on the bed wriggling. Eventually, Eleanor rose from the fluffy blanket like a zombie.

With her brain seemingly still half-asleep, Eleanor stopped the alarm, dropped her shoulders as if letting out a sigh of relief, sluggishly tried to sit up, and then caught her breath.

“…That’s quite an alarm clock.”

Startled on the bed, Eleanor finally seemed to realize it was me.

“Ah… you carried me… didn’t you…”

“You surprised me. Falling asleep so suddenly.”

“I’m sorry… I took my medicine out of habit… I thought I could actually stay awake a little longer.”

“Aren’t you working too much?”

When I directed my words at her, Eleanor tried to say something, but as if giving up, she looked around and smiled wryly.

“I can’t hide it, can I.”

“Maybe you just like having a room like this.”

“I’m not that much of a hedonist. If you were to stay in this room normally, it would cost a hundred thousand Mool a night.”

“A hundred…”

The seventy thousand Mool I had put everything into earning was wiped out in a day, and the amount Hagana made a fuss about by selling herself, or Lisa by selling her precious rare books, wouldn’t even cover a single day here. The amount that caused Toyama the moneylender to waste away like a ghost, and resulted in several people being stripped of their homes and assets, was a million Mool at best. And that would only cover ten days?

Just how much would it cost to dirty this room to this extent? Two months, three months? No, surely not less than half a year.

With the Clapton Square incident, I thought I somewhat understood the disparity of wealth on the Moon, but the gap with the truly rich might be far, far more staggering.

As I sat there shocked by something akin to absurdity, Eleanor continued speaking dispassionately.

“Although, regular rates are practically non-existent. Since this is rented long-term, it might be a third or a quarter of the regular rate, or perhaps almost free.”

“…”

“Also, to prevent any misunderstanding, I should add that it’s not my money. It’s… a prison… prepared by Platinum Smith, who employs Susie Wu.”

“A prison.”

“I suppose it means they won’t let me complain if I have a place like this.”

Eleanor got out of bed while speaking, and finally seemed to realize she had slept in her everyday clothes. Looking at her wrinkled skirt and such, she sighed tiredly.

“More importantly, I’m sorry.”

“Eh?”

“You couldn’t go home even if you wanted to, could you?”

The disastrous state of this room, its accommodation fee, the sheer scale of the company that signs a long-term contract for it, and Eleanor’s very human consideration—even I couldn’t process all of that in an instant.

For a while, I stared back at Eleanor foolishly, and then finally dropped my eyes to the file in my hands.

“It’s true that once I flipped through this, I couldn’t just leave.”

I lightly held up the file.

Eleanor smiled tiredly, and tilted her head.

“It’s unfair to tell jokes with a straight face.”

After saying that, Eleanor directed her gaze to the flag pinned to the wall by the pillow, and the ugly correlation chart.

Surely no one who entered this room would fail to notice them.

And surely no one who had been involved with Burton Cradwiesen would ever forget that face.

“Even so, may I interpret it as you chose not to go home?”

I looked at the front and back of the closed file meaninglessly, and without raising my gaze, I answered.

“Well, you can’t return to the past, after all.”

When I looked up, Eleanor was smiling as if troubled.

“…May I take a shower first? I still haven’t shaken off the sleepiness…”

“Go ahead.”

When I said that, Eleanor elegantly hid a small yawn with her hand, rubbed her teary eyes, and stumbled into the next room.

It was then that I realized that even though Eleanor had looked sleepy ever since she was in the cafe, that was the first time I had actually seen her yawn.

---

There was no way Eleanor would come jumping out of the bath stark naked, wearing only a thin shirt, or wandering around with her bare arms exposed.

When she returned from the next room, she had perfectly finished drying her hair and was impeccably dressed.

“There isn’t much time before my ride arrives, though.”

Eleanor first said that apologetically.

“Your ride?”

“For a recording. As Susie Wu.”

“Ah. Sounds tough.”

“Given the content we handle, it’s exhausting having to play a bullish character.”

“Puffing out your chest and squaring your shoulders?”

“Yes. In the end, the information conveyed on TV is very little, so after that it just comes down to how loud your shouting voice is and how forcefully you push.”

Sitting primly in an old-fashioned chair with heavy, curved decorations—perhaps you’d call it Art Deco—Eleanor looked like a life-size French doll. It felt bizarre for someone like Eleanor to talk about shouting or forcefully pushing.

However, what she had given me a glimpse of in the cafe was undoubtedly the persona of the person on the other side of the TV screen.

“It’s true, on the program you were waving documents around and shouting at the top of your lungs.”

“Fufu… having it pointed out directly is very embarrassing.”

She pressed her cheek with a hand that looked like it would suit a white glove perfectly.

The way she smiled in a troubled manner and tilted her head was the very image of a sheltered young lady who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“However, I also think it’s causing an unreasonable strain.”

When I directed my gaze to the medicine on the desk, Eleanor looked down bashfully.

Staying awake to the absolute limit with the help of caffeine while she needs to be awake, and forcefully sleeping with sleeping pills when it’s time to sleep. It’s an act of utterly denying the fact that humans are creatures that repeat sleep and wakefulness to the extreme.

I couldn’t possibly think it was good for her body.

“Because I’m trying to accomplish something that requires that much.”

Eleanor said briefly, and looked at me.

“I apologize for not being able to tell you from the start.”

“About Burton?”

“Burton… yes, his public name is Grave Goldshower. Until a little while ago, he also frequently used the name Jack Ranny.”

“I know that name.”

When I said that, Eleanor nodded slowly.

“I heard he only tells the name Burton to people he’s close with.”

“That hurts my heart.”

The jokingly spoken line slipped out of my mouth probably because my heart actually did hurt.

“Does that mean… perhaps the photo pinned to that wall over there could have been yours, Hal-san?”

“Who knows… at this point. But, I suppose so. If I hadn’t fallen into his trap back then…”

If I hadn’t fallen for it?

Would Hagana have stayed at the church, and would the church have remained in that town?

And would I be acting as Burton’s right-hand man?

“No, let’s stop. There are no ‘ifs’ in history.”

Eleanor said, and gave a small cough to clear her throat.

“I have a goal. If you’ve looked at that flowchart over there, I think you can guess the general idea, even if not the details.”

“Some sort of massive structure.”

“A massive fraudulent structure.”

Eleanor stated simply.

However, her face didn’t show anger or ridicule, but a deep color of exhaustion.

“It’s almost impossible to explain in a single word…”

“I saw Avalon and Harald Bros.”

“Yes. But Harald Bros is just a container. The real issue is the analyst inside it, Peter Iceman.”

The man whose photo was pinned up with ‘Falsehood’ written on it.

Eleanor’s expression didn’t twitch, but that conversely made me feel a deep-seated something.

“I’ve heard him called ‘the only real deal on the Moon.'”

“Ranked number one in The Institutional Investor’s Magazine’s annual analyst rankings for two consecutive years. The Sage of the Moon, Peter Iceman.”

Eleanor lowered her gaze and said it while smiling faintly, looking somewhat amused.

‘Institutional investors’ refers to groups like major pension funds, foundations, and insurance companies that possess massive investment funds exceeding ten billion Mool or equivalent. Because they move amounts of money that individual investors couldn’t match even if they banded together, they are sometimes called ‘real money’ in the investment market.

“He has immense popularity among institutional investors who handle real money, doesn’t he.”

“While Susie Wu is the guardian deity of the masses, or something like that.”

“Yes. I have a bit of popularity among the ‘older gentlemen’, but there’s a world of difference.”

“That Peter Iceman and Avalon? There was a line drawn from Burton.”

“That’s right. My company was swallowed up by the structure built by Iceman and Burton.”

The lines extending from Burton were ‘Funds’ and ‘Information’, and the line extending from Iceman was ‘Falsehood’.

“Analysts are sometimes called prophets, but on today’s Moon, that’s no exaggeration.”

Saying that, Eleanor began to speak.

“In the current situation where both the old and the young invest, the words of an analyst who hits the mark truly move the market. If they say it will go up, it goes up; if they say it will go down, it goes down. Now, suppose there is an analyst here called a Sage, boasting a terrifyingly high hit rate. The people who read and reference that analyst’s reports are across the board people who can move funds that can safely be called massive. After all, it’s written there which stocks will go up, so there’s no way they wouldn’t read it. And because everyone buys, it actually goes up. ‘Wonderful, if we follow him we can’t go wrong,’ they think.”

Eleanor smiled thinly and tilted her head mischievously.

“In the midst of that, suppose he releases an analysis report on a certain company. Its profit margins are small, its sales aren’t increasing much, a boring little company. A company that makes people say, ‘Why is there a company on the Moon that looks like such an old, worn-out donkey?’ The reason a Sage is a Sage is that they don’t neglect the small things. He enthusiastically analyzes that company and notices an extraordinary loss in the previous quarter. ‘This is bad. Imagine if this loss continues for another year. With this company’s cash flow, it will almost certainly go under!'”

Eleanor, who had been speaking while looking at her hands, moved her hands as if tossing something from her lap.

I almost felt like I could hear the sound of something crushing as it fell to the floor.

“Even an insignificant company has a surprisingly large number of business partners. And there are far more people who think they should pay attention because it’s a report from someone who hits the mark so often. People all at once withdraw the money they deposited in that company, or rush to collect accounts receivable. Even those who know the donkey is actually healthy will be branded as fools who didn’t act despite the report being out, just in case there really was a problem with the donkey. It’s the same as a bank run. A company, even if it’s operating in the black, is like a heart in the sense that it stops if there’s no blood to pump out. That pitiful donkey stumbled over a small stone on the road, had all its blood drained at once, and never stood up again. And then, the people thank the Sage. ‘Oh, that company really did go under. What a wonderful prophecy that was.'”

A self-fulfilling prophecy.

And that pitiful donkey must have been Eleanor’s company.

“The one who bought the corpse of the pitiful donkey was some unknown investment firm, but when I chased it down, it apparently ended up with Avalon in the end. What they wanted was the donkey’s tough skeletal structure. Avalon makes massive profits from power trading, but it seems there was an urgent need to establish a back-office operation to handle the administrative processing of those trades. So, they set their eyes on a donkey that, while slow-moving, had eaten plenty of food and developed a solid body. Building an administrative processing department, which doesn’t directly generate profits, from scratch is very difficult, you see. In fact, it was very difficult. An administrative department is a section that receives no gratitude from anyone, but is absolutely essential.”

The image of Rena working at the government branch office crossed my mind.

In this world, there are boring jobs that someone absolutely must do.

“The painstakingly raised skeleton was bought by a magician, and is now apparently a part of a large homunculus.”

Finishing her story, Eleanor slowly took a deep breath and sighed.

“If you carefully use the prophecies of a prophet, you can probably acquire whatever you want as cheaply as you like. However, for that prophet to be a prophet, they must ‘truly’ receive an oracle from a god, but that god is…”

“Burton?”

“Yes. Iceman’s legendary debut is still talked about today. When Avalon was listed on the Lunar Stock Exchange, the market’s expectations were truly on the verge of exploding. It was a company whose sales were doubling every six months, after all. And at the time, there was no one who could correctly evaluate a company that generated profit by actually realizing on this Moon the ‘efficiency’ that Kenneth Lewis spoke of, which everyone had only ever been able to see on paper.”

In my head, the lines from Burton revived again.

Funds. And the other was Information.

“Iceman guessed the pre-listing profits of that kind of company down to the single Mool. That was 2.7 times the previous quarter’s profit, an amount that would make even God tremble. As Avalon entered an unknown territory beyond human understanding, people found a great Sage to act as their guide. However…”

There is no doubt that the reason I took Eleanor’s hand was because I wanted to cooperate with her. However, there was also the implication that I wouldn’t leave her alone if this turned out to be a delusional conviction. I know all too well from my own bitter experience just how narrow a person’s field of vision can become when they are absorbed in something, and what terrible disasters they can cause as a result.

Therefore, while I definitely wouldn’t tell Chris, I was torn about whether I should tell Lisa about this, but for now, I hadn’t told her yet. Eleanor certainly possessed a terrifying obsession, but she didn’t seem like the type of person to lose sight of herself.

I thought it would be very rude to the person who confided her true dream in me to consult someone else saying, ‘She might be a little crazy.’

For that reason, I have been living at Lisa’s church without breathing a word about Eleanor or anything.

Also, I still hadn’t touched my own investments. I was merely extracting stocks manually to improve Chris’s data, and spending the rest of my time on preliminary research into Avalon.

Around that time, the door leading to the hallway from the church’s living room opened. Looking up, I saw it was Chris. In her hands were two tortillas wrapped with vegetables and meat. There’s a cheap and delicious food stall set up near the church.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Yeah.”

I turned off the streaming stock market information program, stood up from my chair, and poured some coffee.

“So, where did you say Lisa went?”

“To the kindergarten. Lately, it seems she’s been teaching them a little bit of studying and things like that.”

“A kindergarten, huh… Somehow that feels exactly like a nursery school teacher.”

“Apparently, she’s incredibly popular. She says when she tries to leave, they pull on her robe and won’t let her go.”

“Aren’t you going?”

Chris, who apparently makes more than enough donations to Lisa, helps out with the running of Lisa’s church whenever she can. I had assumed she would help out with that too, but Chris smiled tiredly.

“For some reason, when I go, they’re really mean to me. They pull my hair, they won’t listen to what I say…”

I looked at Chris, then down at the coffee cup in my hands.

The image of Chris being bullied by a bunch of kindergarten brats was very easy to imagine.

“They’re probably like a pack of animals. They instinctively sniff out those lower in the hierarchy.”

“Animals… Yes, animals, they truly were like that.”

Sighing as she sat down in a chair, she dropped her shoulders and took a bite of her tortilla.

Even for Chris, who passed the Lunar City University entrance exam, that gold placard is only effective in civilized spheres.

On weekdays, a fully automated program earns blindingly large sums of money even while she’s yawning, but it was somewhat strange that there was a place where that amazing feat meant absolutely nothing.

“So, what time was it again?”

It was difficult to be careful not to spill the minced meat, and picking up some that I had spilled with my fingers, I asked.

“It’s the 14:00 session, so we’ll make it even if we leave leisurely.”

Even though both her mouth and hands are small, Chris was somehow skillfully eating the large tortilla without spilling any. However, it seemed getting sauce around her mouth was unavoidable, and staring at her made me feel like I was watching a squirrel or something eating.

“Are we really going? I don’t think it’ll be a very interesting place for you to see, Chris.”

“That’s not true. If I’m going to call myself a carnivore on this Moon, I think seeing their den will be a very good learning experience.”

The way Chris, who says she wants to become like Burton, eats her tortilla is still far from a carnivore. However, there’s no doubt that ‘that place’ we are talking about is a carnivore’s den.

And according to Eleanor, it is a tower of fiction built on deception and falsehoods.

“Actually, I’m the one who’s surprised.”

“Really?”

“Yes. If anything… it seemed like you didn’t have much interest in companies like Avalon, Hal-san.”

“They increase profits, increase sales, expand their scale, and constantly move forward, so it’s natural for their stock price to go up. For now, you just buy Avalon and then sleep and wait. Well, even if you buy it and make a profit, it’s not exactly a stock you can brag to people about.”

“Exactly, exactly.”

Where we are heading from here is an Avalon company information session. It’s not for prospective employees or people like that, but an information session from the company directed at investors—moreover, at individual shareholders.

It’s held almost every week, apparently with the goal of having people learn about the trajectory of success Avalon has followed on the Moon and how strongly they are growing now, so they will hold onto their stocks for a long time.

I understand the stated reason, and in terms of improving the corporate image, there might be a point to doing it. There are many manufacturers that frequently hold factory tour guides, especially those in the food industry.

However, in Avalon’s case, there’s another side to it, Eleanor had said in an email.

Avalon calls themselves a comprehensive energy trading company or whatever, but in the end, they are an electricity vendor.

They are a company that rose to prominence at the same time the Moon started running short on power, and since they make more profit the higher the price of electricity goes, they are a company that gets hotter and hotter while the temperature on the Moon drops.

There is a lot of criticism, and Eleanor viewed this as a part of a strategy to win over such people and keep their public image at least a little bit positive.

I think so too.

“But, it is a company that embodies a very Moon-like success on the Moon. I do want to actually see it with my own eyes.”

“I also want to actually see this trading room they tout as the highest peak in the world.”

“That thing with a construction cost of two hundred million Mool?”

“I heard that if you include the salaries of the traders who work there, it’s the most expensive place per unit area in the entire world, including Earth.”

“The best place for the best intellects?”

“It’s very Moon-like, doesn’t it make you excited?”

Chris, with a little bit of chili sauce on the corner of her mouth, said happily.

But Avalon’s popularity probably lies exactly in things like that.

“It does.”

“Fufu.”

Chris shrugged her shoulders and laughed, seemingly tickled.

A smart, slightly precocious girl of the Moon.

I finished my tortilla a step ahead and looked at the display.

Avalon.

For now, I hold no grudge against them.

However, if Burton is truly involved, no matter what kind of magic is there, I wouldn’t be surprised.

---

Avalon’s headquarters was located about a fifteen-minute walk from Newton City’s Central Station. However, that was merely the ‘fifteen-minute walk’ determined by the real estate industry, and was nothing more than a story on a map. Central Station on a Sunday afternoon was almost murderously crowded, and including a break for Chris, who ran out of breath and felt sick halfway through, it ended up taking nearly an hour.

“I read an article in the newspaper about timid tourists having panic attacks there.”

“Hyperventilation, right. Thinking that with so many people, the oxygen might run out…”

“You can’t make fun of it.”

“Excuse me…”

Closing the lid of a can with a catchphrase saying ‘Natural Water Born on the Moon’—which I couldn’t tell if it was serious or a joke—Chris put it away in her bag.

It seems plastic bottles are mainstream on Earth, which runs on crude oil, but on the Moon, which produces no crude oil, drinks are sold packed in steel cans or glass bottles. Because both iron and silicon, the raw material for glass, can be extracted on the Moon, and with solar energy, recycling is possible any number of times.

However, lately, due to the rise in electricity rates, I hear it’s not much different from importing them via the orbital elevator. Before long, the familiar steel mugs might disappear, replaced by those inorganic, flat plastic products.

The rise in electricity rates is having various impacts on the Moon.

That’s probably why.

When we arrived in front of Avalon’s headquarters, it had turned into a bit of a festive uproar.

“Down with the giant corporation monopolizing electricity!”

“Corporations, fulfill your accountability!”

“Electricity to the residents! The sun to the Moon!”

In front of the Avalon headquarters building complex, named with the straightforward moniker ‘New World Gate’ and boasting the third highest height on the Moon at 92 stories above ground, people holding placards were raising their voices.

Their physiognomy and appearance were like the people I often saw in front of the government branch office—people from thirty to fifty years old wearing dead-grass-colored clothes.

However, perhaps because it’s a regular occurrence, instead of police officers, a few security guards were standing around them looking bored. Even the passersby weren’t so much listening to their opinions as they were capturing the scene on their digital cameras, as if enjoying confirming that the scenes they saw on TV actually existed.

“Which way is reception?”

“Umm, it says enter through the Main Gate and head towards Entrance 32.”

“Looks easy to get lost. Are we okay on time?”

“Ah, but look, there’s a guide.”

Chris, who had been looking anxious, found a sign for the ‘Avalon Company Information Session Venue’ partway through the Main Gate, which was made of deep blue building materials reminiscent of cold iron and massive amounts of glass.

Next to the hologram displaying it was an old-fashioned android that was clearly an android, bowing in a comical manner.

“THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR COMING TODAY. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE RIGHT DOWN THIS PASSAGEWAY.”

It guided us with an exaggerated synthesized voice, but Chris was smiling happily.

“He says he’s Arb-kun.”

Walking down the long passageway next to me, Chris said that.

“Arb? Because it’s Avalon?”

“It might be arbitrage.”

“…I see.”

If the exact same product is 100 Mool at place A and 120 Mool at place B, you can make a risk-free profit by buying at A and selling at B. This act is called arbitrage, and traders who specialize in it are called ‘arbs’. For a company that operates a power trading market, that certainly makes more sense.

“Still, what an amazing courtyard.”

“It really is. It doesn’t look like Newton City.”

From the passageway we were walking down, a vast courtyard equipped with hills, ponds, and even a waterfall was visible, and beyond that, the large headquarters building complex.

The passageway gently curved to the left, so it seemed the courtyard spread out in a fan shape in front of the headquarters buildings, and buildings including this current passageway were built as if to partition that courtyard from the outside world.

“I hear Avalon has been established for twelve years.”

Suddenly looking at the courtyard, Chris said that.

“In twelve years, a company that started on the second floor of a delivery pizza shop in a small building has grown this large. It’s amazing, isn’t it.”

Looking somewhat distant, Chris spoke with eyes as if she were dreaming.

If told that the sight entering our eyes was actually a dream, it wouldn’t be strange.

“I hear beef cattle on Earth double their weight every two weeks.”

“Eh?”

“And in just a hundred days, their weight becomes 500kg in Earth terms. If even living creatures can grow at that speed, companies multiply much faster, and money multiplies at an even greater speed than that.”

“…It’s amazing, isn’t it.”

“You’re multiplying it at about the same speed, you know.”

When I said that, Chris looked at me with a face like she had been scolded for doing something bad, and then smiled wryly.

“It’s hard to understand when it’s just numbers. Lisa-san gets mad at me sometimes. Telling me to properly understand what I’m doing.”

“I really felt that during a conversation between you and Hagana.”

“Is… that so?”

“Yeah. When I first told you how much the money I kept for you from your house had grown.”

Even when told that, Chris couldn’t seem to remember. She was groaning with wrinkles between her eyebrows.

To the person in question, it might have only been to that extent.

No, to a normal person, perhaps the past is fundamentally like that.

“With this money, you can buy new shoes and clothes. When Hagana said that, you were dumbfounded.”

“Ah. Come to… think of it, that did happen…”

“That was four years ago. Growth is a terrifying thing, isn’t it?”

When I said it with a mix of sarcasm, Chris couldn’t quite erase her troubled smile.

“But, yes. I remember now. Back then, selling the entire contents of a bag stuffed full of goods made a daily profit of 70 Mool or something.”

“70 Mool probably wouldn’t even cover a single day’s electricity bill for that Arb-kun, would it?”

“Ah…”

Chris looked back down the passageway and laughed sadly.

“Indeed, I’m sure that’s true.”

“But with that 70 Mool, you could probably eat Lisa’s home-cooked meals for three days.”

“…”

Chris looked at me, then directed her gaze to the courtyard.

She was probably searching for words.

“It’s like being in another world.”

And the single phrase that came out was that.

While we were doing that, the end of the passageway came right into view. It seemed to be a small open space, and there were people with children and a group that looked like tourists. As Chris and I approached leisurely, an Avalon employee wearing a sharp suit and a perfectly suited, vibrant smile walked briskly toward us.

“Welcome. Are you participating in our company information session today?”

“Ah, yes.”

“May I see your participation pass?”

When Chris showed it on her terminal, with a smile, they sent the schedule data for the company tour to her terminal. It seemed those who wished could also receive an actual booklet; the ones looking at paper pamphlets were likely people from Earth.

“We will be guiding you shortly, so please wait just a moment.”

Leaving a smile behind, they departed the spot with a reverence that rivaled the Grand Central Hotel.

This small open space had a dome-shaped ceiling, and a mechanical bird was circling while making a clattering sound.

The air conditioning was solid, keeping even a seemingly inefficient space like this warm.

“It truly is another world.”

Just as I muttered that, along with the sound of a bell, the company tour began.

---

“Avalon began as a small power brokerage business started by our CEO, Kevin Wraith.”

Along with that explanation, we paraded through the company led by an employee. That seemed to be the plan.

It seemed we would be walking quite a distance, and an employee who saw my crutch recommended a wheelchair.

I didn’t think it was particularly necessary, but since Chris also recommended it, I reluctantly decided to borrow one.

Therefore, currently, Chris is smiling happily above my head.

It seems she wanted to push and carry me.

“And, this is what the actual building was like.”

Along with a stir of “Ooh,” a truly rundown building appeared right before the eyes of the audience.

It was a three-story building that looked like you could find it anywhere in the Outer District, and inside the pizza shop, they had even politely placed mannequins.

“Kevin Wraith’s quick-witted actions to seize opportunities, the Lunar City Government’s deregulation, the rise in power demand, massive investments into infrastructure—all of these combined, and Kevin Wraith, who couldn’t even afford a pizza from this pizza shop at the time, has now established one of the foremost headquarters buildings on the Moon.”

When the guide pointed behind them, beyond the glass windows was a shining skyscraper.

That contrast indeed made one feel something akin to magic.

“Then, how did Kevin Wraith make Avalon this large? Let’s explain it step-by-step, using actual departments within the company as examples. First, the power brokerage business. This good old system still remains today, connecting power plants that want to supply electricity on long-term contracts without going through the market, with factories and such that want to be supplied at a stable price over the long term.”

It was a boring floor, probably specifically for these tours, outfitted with ornamental plants, a large clock, and an unstaffed reception desk.

“Because regulations still remained at the time, the number of power plants was small, and the companies for generation, transmission, and selling power were completely disjointed, making it very inefficient, you see. So, Kevin used his own two feet to gather information, and based on that, brought efficiency to the people. It sounds almost like a story from Earth, doesn’t it?”

The audience burst into laughter.

Earth, slow and captive to regulations and gravity, versus the Moon, moving freely and vigorously with efficiency.

“The next thing Kevin set his hands on was the power transmission industry.”

We went up to the fifth floor in a massive, entirely glass-enclosed indoor elevator. Because of the atrium continuing all the way from the first floor and the design with no walls or pillars, it felt like a shopping mall or a convention center.

“The transmission companies at the time were in a bizarre situation where, for example, they only owned the transmission lines to send power from point A to point B, or they could deliver anywhere as long as it was within district C. Even so, everyone was making a profit, so they were resting on their laurels. However, the man of action, Kevin, realized that if you could send electricity freely from A to B, and B to district C, you could send power more efficiently to those who needed it most, thereby realizing tremendous cost reductions. And Kevin, who had been gathering information on foot, used his knowledge of the city that would put a real estate agent to shame to accurately find the combinations that would be the most profitable.”

On the floor fitted with a plaque that read ‘Transmission Department,’ there was a model of transmission lines looking like a mesh network. A part of it was glowing gold, and next to a mannequin apparently modeled after Kevin, a light displaying the symbol for Mool was lit up.

“If this combination went well, it would be better to control the power plants as well. However, here, legal regulations stood in the way.”

Groans sounding like “Ohhh” were heard.

The audience, having fully immersed themselves in the role of the man of action, Kevin, was cursing the stupid government blocking the way.

“The regulation preventing a single company from simultaneously conducting power generation, transmission, and sales was originally a measure put in place to prevent Emerald Industries from dominating the Moon. However, the idea that a single corporation might dominate the continuously expanding Lunar City was already a story of the past. Even at the time, the inconvenience was far greater, and it was out of step with the times. So, the man of action, Kevin, who had already become a full-fledged entrepreneur, went to kick the asses of the politicians dozing off in the assembly.”

The elevator we boarded again went up unnaturally slowly, passing floors marked ‘Legal Department’ and ‘Policy Department’ along the way. Then, on the pillar supporting the elevator shaft, we saw a Kevin doll flying through the air and a doodle saying ‘Stupid regulations go flying too.’

“Woken up by Kevin’s argument that if they kept doing inefficient things like this, the Moon’s electricity rates would crash right through the dome and fly all the way to Earth, the bureaucrats finally withdrew this regulation.”

“Right on!”

One of the tour guests from Earth said something like that.

When I looked at Chris, she was laughing, seemingly tickled.

“And with that regulation withdrawn, Kevin, having taken ownership of power plants, built the best power company on the Moon.”

When we arrived at the floor with the plaque marked ‘Generation Department,’ the elevator ride ended there. We had already come up quite high, and beyond the glass walls, a view higher than what I had seen from the suite room at the Grand Central Hotel opened up.

“Yes. Have you looked at the scenery behind you? At this point, Kevin had already obtained a prospect reaching this far.”

Probably because I was looking at the scenery. The guide said that, guiding the audience’s gaze to the view.

“But the man of action, Kevin, didn’t stop. He looked back on everything that brought him this far, and realized that profit, in the end, was about helping electricity smoothly reach everyone’s homes, workplaces, and factories. So, Kevin pushed his thoughts further. Up until now, he had been the one bringing efficiency. However, there was a limit. So, what should he do?”

“Create a trading market!”

One of the tour guests shouted, and the guide pointed at them with a beaming smile.

“Exactly. Just look at stocks or crude oil. The reason there is efficiency in such complex markets is because they borrow the wisdom of many people, little by little. Kevin stood up.”

The guide proceeded down a terrace-like hallway running alongside the atrium that continued from the first floor. Chris tapped my shoulder, and when I looked, the wall read, “And to the New World,” with a Kevin doll pushing forward with a beaming smile.

“However, building such a trading infrastructure is no ordinary feat. Everyone, try to imagine it. A shared living room, or a break room at a workplace. It’s painfully obvious that a clean space is more efficient for living and working, but everyone absolutely hates being the only one to clean. To get them to move, you raise your voice: ‘Clean up!'”

The voice echoed through the office building on a day off, skillfully emphasizing the futility.

“People just look at each other and don’t move. In the first place, a location called a power trading market didn’t even exist. Creating a market requires massive amounts of funds. Electricity in particular needs to be sent from the seller to the buyer, but you can’t exactly pack it in a cardboard box and ship it. A massive acquisition of the power grid is also necessary. On top of that, you need the brains to create a complex and enormous system. Those two things are normally owned by separate large corporations and take years to build. So, did Kevin give up? No, he did not. Because, before this Kevin—as expected, destiny truly does exist—two collaborators appeared.”

The guide stopped and turned around. From there, there was another elevator, with two burly security guards standing by on either side. I noticed it immediately. On the beam above the elevator entrance, dolls were placed. A doll of a blonde young man, and a doll of a middle-aged man in his fifties.

“Those two are our current CFO, Grave Goldshower, who has handled the finances of numerous companies on Earth, and Jeremy Bottsman, who was praised as the best trader of the time on this Moon, a place that even makes the Pope call it greedy.”

According to Eleanor’s story, one of them should be Burton, but that doll looked absolutely nothing like him.

“I heard Mr. Goldshower is on Earth all the time?” someone asked.

“Yes, that is correct. Goldshower has a chronic illness and cannot ride the orbital elevator. Goldshower, who met and was impressed by Kevin while he was campaigning for capital provision on Earth, volunteered to be CFO, saying, ‘With you, I could even go to Jupiter.’ He procured the massive acquisition funds, said to be around fifteen billion Mool, and breathed life into Kevin’s dream.”

They were probably talking about the massive acquisition of the power grid, which shut Emerald Industries out of this industry prior to the opening of the power trading market. Nonchalantly taking on debt two or three times their own size. At this time, it was surely over ten times the debt.

A forceful feat of strength. But a feat of strength where purpose and conviction could be seen.

If the one who gathered that massive fifteen billion Mool in funds was Burton, it was a truly fitting move.

“The tools were assembled. The stage was set. But there was no technician to operate it. Appearing briskly at that moment was the young genius, Jeremy Bottsman, said to have an IQ of 230. He recreated Kevin’s dream inside a computer. And then—”

The guide cut off his words there and signaled the security guards with his eyes, who then operated a panel and opened the elevator doors. Built along the wall, it was covered in iron rather than glass, making it look as though it were preparing for an attack.

“Haha, are you surprised by how rugged it is? But this is the elevator connecting to the heart of our Avalon. It has to be sturdy, you see.” The guide knocked on the wall with a clack.

The elevator shot up rapidly, and when the doors opened, everyone gasped.

“Avalon’s heart is made of dreams. And this is the heart of Avalon, Kevin’s dream—the trading room where anyone can freely buy and sell the Moon’s electricity, producing peak efficiency from a complexity that would make even God throw in the towel!”

Exiting the elevator, we were on the wall of a massive hall. The height from the floor to the ceiling was probably about seven stories of a normal building. Inside that egg-like space, trading equipment was packed tightly. Desks lined up facing each other, and there were so many of those rows it made you sick to even try counting them.

It was a majestic sight. To a bizarre degree, it was a majestic sight. The most expensive place in the world per unit area.

The reason people were there even though it was a holiday was because the power market had nothing to do with holidays. What was the salary of that young man with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up, biting his pen while peering into a display? Surely, it was in units of one or two million Mool. You could take in that entire scene at a glance, and beyond that, the far side was completely made of glass, spreading out a view looked down upon from the third highest wealth on the Moon.

Avalon.

A door to another world.

Just then, cheers could be heard from somewhere. One of the audience members pointed, saying, “Over there,” and when I turned my gaze, several men were huddled together, slapping each other on the shoulder.

The guide contacted someone on his portable terminal and said, “It seems the hard work of a team that took a massive position, believing the prices were irrational, was just rewarded. I hear the profit is 23 million Mool. I imagine they’ll be drinking enough champagne today to make their legs give out.”

I was half in doubt whether what he said so casually was a lie or the truth. But to support a trading room like this, it was certain that profits like that had to be generated frequently.

“And, our Kevin’s office is located even further up from here, over there at the very top. From a place where he can look down on everything, he frequently fires up our fierce traders.”

The guide said this while pointing at a place that looked like a special spectator box at a stadium.

“Here, we handle various trades, starting with our core electricity. The number of those products is roughly 1,800! Among them, weather derivatives are often brought up as an unusual example. Just think of it as taking out insurance on whether it will rain a lot next summer or things like that, and buying and selling that insurance. The ones trading it are people whose business performance is swayed by the weather, such as grain handlers. Of course, the main players are people on Earth, not the Moon, but we skillfully generate profits from it too. Because from up here, you can see Earth’s weather very well.”

The guide made a visor over his eyes with his hand, acting as if looking out at the spectacular glass-walled view.

“At any rate, this is the heart that produces the highest efficiency on the Moon, built through Kevin’s ideas and actions. The liquidity generated by lowering barriers to trading and increasing participants directly translates into efficiency. By doing this, the Moon’s electricity in particular is—”

It was when the guide had triumphantly spoken up to that point.

“But electricity bills are only getting higher, aren’t they!”

A voice with a thorn in it echoed, and everyone turned toward it in surprise.

“In the Outer District, there are places that get so cold every night you can’t even sleep. That’s because they can’t afford to buy electricity due to the power shortage. How do you explain that!”

An awkward atmosphere flowed, like a duck had gotten mixed into a flock of swans.

Everyone directed their gaze at the guide. Almost as if seeking salvation.

“Yes. It is a fact that electricity rates are soaring. However, if we weren’t here, they would be even higher. This is unmistakably true.”

“That explanation again. I won’t be fooled, you swindlers!”

“Even if you say that, it is explained in economics as well that if trading is conducted swiftly, prices will approach their proper line. If we were to disappear from this spot right now, I believe we could prove the correctness of our words… but that is not something easily done.”

The audience nodded and looked at the middle-aged man glaring at the guide with eyes filled with pity.

“The Moon is expanding at an unprecedented speed. We are assisting so that its lifeblood, electricity, doesn’t get clogged up. Surely you have them in your workplaces too? The people organizing documents, without whom things wouldn’t actually run. Or in a household, a presence like a mother who knows where the nail clippers and socks are kept.”

The guide smiled warmly, and the audience smiled warmly too.

“Furthermore, the average IQ of the brilliant traders supporting our company is 150! By removing inefficiencies from the market, we are able to receive our modest commissions, and hand over to all of you the service of efficiency and price reduction.”

The guide said that and bowed his head respectfully. One of the audience members applauded, and many followed suit.

When I looked at Chris, her eyes were sparkling as she gazed at the trading scene of the trader group said to be the highest peak on the Moon.

“Avalon is the comprehensive energy trading company you have just seen. What do you think? Our company’s stock is like a ticket to ride this magnificent dream of Kevin’s.”

Applause.

“This, of course, is different from the pitch of an investment bank salesman trying to shove stock certificates down a goose’s throat, you see? After all, regarding our company’s employees, they invest and manage all of their defined contribution pensions, which are their retirement savings, entirely in our company’s stock. Because they know that it is the most wonderful option to guarantee an elegant retirement.”

At the renewed applause, the guide glared down at the commoners like a king’s deputy.

“In fact, a certain mid-level distribution engineer employee who has been managing a portion of his salary in our company’s stock since the early days of our pension system has generated profits so large that even adding up all the salary he’s earned so far wouldn’t catch up to it. With that, he, an Earth immigrant, recently purchased a maisonette-style apartment in a Newton City district. Because it’s convenient for his daughter’s university commute, too. His family’s joy serves as encouragement for his work, and the harder he works, the more the stock price rises along with the company’s performance. How can one not be deeply impressed by the foresight of Kevin, who introduced this system in the very early days for corporations on the Moon?”

Then, a sigh from the audience.

“Of course, such stock of our company can be purchased even if you are not an employee.”

Smiles.

I was half-smiling in my heart too. While saying it wasn’t an investment bank’s sales pitch, he was bringing out the most powerful method as a sales pitch.

The best method to incite stock trading isn’t advertising that the stock is valuable, and actually, it isn’t even loudly declaring that it will go up in price in the future. The best incitement is saying that there is someone who has already obtained a profit, and that person is someone not much different from you. Just being told, “You aren’t living smartly,” is enough to make most humans feel rushed and lose their sense of judgment. In addition, what made me want to laugh was how he so proudly tacked on the high IQ of their group of traders. That in itself was probably a fact, but there was one important fact. There is a famous study showing that trading performance and IQ are not proportional. Therefore, the guide didn’t say that trading goes well because of their high IQ, either. The guide was probably speaking while understanding that area of things as well.

The guide, who would put an investment bank salesman to shame, continued blabbering on with his talk for stock purchases, but that talk went in one ear and out the other for me as I gazed from the wheelchair at the office where Kevin was thought to be. What kind of scenery would one look out at from up there? Four years ago, Burton had pointed out the building of a pharmaceutical company called Ring Tech and taught me something. He said that cursed buildings where business performance worsens upon moving in really do exist. However, he also said that such buildings are often the ones preferred by managers who are on the verge of failing, and Ring Tech really did go under and disappear. So, what about this office of Avalon’s?

The trajectory of success continuing from the first floor was certainly something that made logical sense. However, I felt it made too much logical sense. And then, the guide’s self-proclaimed title. Comprehensive energy trading company.

If their main business is trading, this isn’t a place that should call itself a trading company. It’s a group of gamblers, no different from a hedge fund. Do the profits raised by those traders go into the financial statements as profits of an electricity company, or do they go under extraordinary income that just happened to be obtained? The reason this gets ambiguous is because Avalon also conducts power generation. If they managed to sell the electricity they generated themselves at the highest price, that’s the same as a baker selling the bread they baked at the highest price, so they’d have every right to proudly call it core business profit without any reason to be complained about by anyone.

But the profit a baker makes from stock trading done as a hobby has nothing to do with their main business.

I couldn’t help but think Avalon was intentionally blurring that line. At least, that’s what Eleanor suspects. That they are black-boxing their profit structure in order to pump up their own stock price, as funds for acquisitions to enable rapid growth.

I still don’t know the details, but there is one thing that is clear.

At any rate, the guide had a face that said no gambling existed here, and he was pushing with a momentum that seemed ready to declare that even buying Avalon stock was a guaranteed way to obtain future happiness.

But such a thing is impossible. A flawless trading method has never been discovered once in recorded history. Profit is the compensation for the possibility of taking a loss. Therefore, while I could understand the guide consistently framing the existence of the traders not as gamblers but as people who bring efficiency to the market and earn commissions, what I didn’t understand was why they would go out of their way to show off this majestic trading room if they didn’t want to be associated with a gambling-like image. Since people have a hard time thinking about things they can’t see, if they just kept quiet, there would be no way to know. Daring to flaunt it means the exact opposite; it’s nothing other than wanting to leave an impression of this place.

I felt something was disjointed.

Even knowing I had some sort of bias from hearing Eleanor’s story, I felt there was some hidden intention behind Avalon.

“Now then, we will head downstairs from here, so please relax in our company’s proud employee cafeteria,” the guide said, ushering us back into the elevator. The doors closed, and the sight visible from atop the wealth ranked in the top three on the Moon also vanished.

Inside the iron and glass box, the audience was murmuring excitedly. There were guys taking out their terminals and checking stock prices, and I could even hear voices asking if they could buy in after-hours trading.

Since it wasn’t like any news had come out, there wasn’t a single rational reason to rush to buy. The reason Chris’s program’s madness level was able to be raised was because guys with this level of speculation were swarming the current Lunar Stock Exchange in droves.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it,” Chris whispered from above in just that way.

“Yeah.”

Looking at the middle-aged folks frantically placing orders from their portable terminals, I thought about how stocks don’t only go up. In trading, a time will always, eventually, come when you eat a loss. Stock trading is probably about how well you deal with that loss you are absolutely guaranteed to eat someday.

I looked up overhead into the atrium. The skyrocketing optimism smelled somehow fabricated. Almost as if to sell off stock and maintain a high price.

Or perhaps, it only seemed that way because of Eleanor’s words.

I tried thinking about it, but there’s no definitive answer to this kind of suspicion.

However, at least Chris didn’t seem to be doubting it, and it went without saying for the other guests. The man who snapped at the guide seemed to be an exception, but there were indications that the vast majority of people thought Avalon was an undisputed major corporation, and that it’s normal for major corporations to look shady.

And, perhaps that is often correct.

Since Eleanor has a victim mentality, she probably has an extra layer of bias.

If so, at least I have to remain calm and fair.

Thinking that, I sank deeply into the wheelchair while keeping company with Chris, who was excitedly chattering about what to eat at the employee cafeteria.

But human actions always contain speculation. And a room is a mirror that reflects the master’s heart, and from Kevin Wraith’s room, that trading room was entirely visible.

Thinking about the meaning behind that…

Malice was swirling on the Moon.

Or perhaps I, too, might be poisoned.

---

A few days after the Avalon tour, a prototype of the new program was sent over from Cerault.

The email said that when he showed them Chris’s photo and profile, researchers gathered around saying “Me too, me too!”

Are those guys really okay in various senses of the word? I felt uneasy, but when we tested the prototype that was sent in Chris’s room at the church, it was quite something.

“It’s fitting that Avalon comes in first, isn’t it.”

Avalon was shown at the very top of the program that recognized and extracted optimism from the market, and further displayed highly evaluated stocks within Chris’s program.

“He also sent the underlying algorithm, so I think even I will probably be able to directly input your requests, Hal-san.”

“Well, even just this is amazing enough, though.”

Scrolling through the display, it almost perfectly overlapped with the stock list I had given Chris over the last few days. But naturally there’s a limit to human effort, so there were also many unknown stocks listed.

“That won’t do. What if someone else figures out this method? We’ll be overtaken in a flash and won’t be able to make a profit. Once we start making a profit with this program, the impact will show up in the prices, you see. It’s only a matter of time before the data mining folks notice. Before that happens—”

Saying that, Chris unrolled a large, roll-up panel on the wall of her room. It was a device that could display data from a terminal, and furthermore, allowed you to write text and such directly on the panel via touch. For some reason, Earth-born companies with offices on the Moon compete to outfit themselves with these kinds of things, so older models are sold dirt cheap on the secondhand market.

Chris displayed data from mathematical books there and left it on standby.

Chris seemed to like these kinds of gimmicks too, and apparently often stayed up late into the night, standing and playing with mathematical formulas as if drawing a picture on the wall.

“Before that happens?”

When I prompted her to continue, Chris smiled warmly in her un-girly room.

“We will build an overwhelming advantage.”

Aiming to be a carnivore on the Moon, Chris said that with a cheekiness that was almost cute.

“We don’t have to worry about what time you go home anymore, Hal-san. We can discuss things plenty.”

“Though a scary Lisa will come to put you to bed.”

“Ugh… Should we buy some wireless equipment and connect them?”

“Sleep properly at night.”

I, who had been sitting in Chris’s chair, stood up while saying that in an exasperated tone.

“Because it seems there’s an inverse correlation between the growth of our profits and your sleep hours.”

Light reflected off the glasses of Chris, who had dimmed the room’s lights for the panel, making her expression hard to see. However, she had dark circles under her eyes that would be clearly visible under sunlight.

It was probably so much fun she couldn’t help herself, but even if I wasn’t Lisa, it made me want to scold her.

“Besides, sorry, but I have errands after this.”

“Eh? Where are you going?”

Ever since I came to stay at the church, Chris had started following me even when I just went outside for a little shopping. To reflect the program maintenance and revisions she was doing almost daily and to watch over the trading, Chris commuted to the office on Schrodinger Street, but that was about the only time she was away from me.

I remembered a few years ago, when she was the most enthusiastic about my rehabilitation.

Back then, too, Chris was even more enthusiastic than I was.

“I was called by Eleanor. I’m heading to the Grand Central Hotel.”

“Eh, right now? U-Um, then, I’ll go too.”

“I was told to come alone.”

“Eh…”

To a hotel at night, alone.

Swallowing her words with a face that clearly looked caught off guard, Chris tried to stumble forward and tripped over something, falling down.

“Kya! …U-Um, does that mean—”

“I’m going to talk about stock analysis. She said she doesn’t want you to hear it because it might dull your judgment.”

I took the fallen Chris by the arm and helped her up. A light and delicate body.

I felt deeply pained by my own patheticness over the past few years, realizing I had been supported by such a delicate Chris.

“Anyway, what were you imagining to get so upset?”

I asked deliberately, pushing Chris’s slipped glasses back into place.

Behind the glasses, Chris’s eyes looked up at me in a masochistic, upward glance.

“Why do you say such mean things?”

“Maybe because Hagana never made that kind of face for me.”

I shrugged and lightly poked Chris’s forehead. Chris instantly groaned with a “Muu” and puffed out her cheeks, but even with a joke like this bringing up Hagana’s name, my right hand didn’t stiffen one bit.

Besides, the reason Chris seemed happy with this kind of joke might partly be because of her personality that likes being teased, but also because she could see that I was overcoming what happened four years ago.

“What time will you come back?”

“I said I’ll contact you if it looks like I’ll be late. Because Lisa is noisy about it.”

“I’ll stay awake and wait for you.”

“Go to sleep.”

While we had that exchange all the way to the entrance, an unconcerned Lisa was eagerly making something like teaching materials for kindergarteners on the other side of the hallway. Thinking that this kind of everyday life was nice too, I placed my hand on top of Chris’s head.

“Besides, you have Cerault’s program to decode, don’t you?”

“Ah.”

“From a quick glance, there were still some suspicious parts. There’s plenty to talk about. You’re going to build an overwhelming advantage, aren’t you?”

I ruffled her hair vigorously, and finally pushed her away as if thrusting her off. Chris wobbled as if her eyes were spinning, and ultimately laughed as if she were tired.

“You really are mean, Hal-san.”

She said that, looking happy.

---

The Moon after the sun goes down is chilly. I pulled my muffler up to my mouth and headed for Newton City.

I had written down my miscellaneous impressions and some thoughts from when I toured Avalon and emailed them to Eleanor, but the reply came today. She said she seemed to have some time, so how about we talk over a meal.

Newton City, touted as a “100-Million-Mool Night View,” was shining brilliantly without a care for the power shortage. A power shortage probably didn’t truly mean there was an absolute lack of power. What was lacking were the funds for the poor to buy light, and the spirit of kindness in the rich.

The front of the Grand Central Hotel was as bustling as ever, overflowing with gentlemen in fur coats and carrying walking sticks. It seemed some large reception was being held; people were arriving incessantly even at this time of night. And they were quite well-dressed folks, looking sharp in their formal wear.

Black ties and tuxedos are the trademark of the rulers, continuing on from Earth.

In contrast, I was leaning on my crutch in my usual clothes, clutching a grandmotherly cloth bag containing an apple pie as a small gift under my arm. Lisa had forced me to take it, saying I shouldn’t go see a lady without a gift. I thought to myself that the other party was a noble living in a 100,000 Mool-a-night room, but it would be a hassle to argue, so I decided to comply.

There were many people chatting and laughing in the lobby as well; men would exaggeratedly slap shoulders, and women would have hands respectfully wrapped around their waists. Before I knew it, I was walking with my head slightly down and my back hunched. But I wasn’t overwhelmed; I was just exasperated.

Just as Eleanor had specified, I gave her name at the front desk. Then, I was told to wait for a while. During that time, swarms of gentlemen and ladies passed by in front of my eyes.

It was a sight that reminded me that the Moon was in an economic boom that everyone was intoxicated by.

“Thank you for waiting.”

As I was waiting absentmindedly while thinking such things, Eleanor soon appeared. Over her usual clothes, she had thrown on something like a cape bordered with fluffy fur. She looked exactly like a young lady from a good family, completely blending in without feeling out of place among the formally dressed crowd.

How would I look from the outside? A lowly man from the Outer District deceiving a rich, naive young lady, perhaps?

“I’m sorry for making you come all this way today.”

“Not at all. There are some things that are faster to talk about in person than over email.”

“Yes. That’s what I thought when I called you.”

“…Meaning?”

“The text of your emails is far too curt, Hal-san.”

“Was it… hard to understand?”

When I asked, Eleanor tilted her head slightly and said this:

“Rather than being hard to understand, it was like the text of a legal provision.”

Meaning it was hard to understand, I suppose.

“Before we talk about that, let’s head to a restaurant for now. I actually have a recommended place inside the hotel, but there are so many people today.”

“Is it always like this?”

“Yes, lately it’s been like this about five days a week.”

Standing in front of me and taking the initiative to walk out from the lobby to the main entrance, Eleanor spoke. Out there, black limousines were loitering to the point where it was a wonder the cars weren’t getting jammed, spitting out and swallowing up formally dressed ladies and gentlemen.

“There are especially many today because there’s a party celebrating a certain company’s new stock issuance and listing.”

“Huh.”

I looked anew at the faces of the formally dressed people. A new stock issuance and listing celebration party meant that nouveau riche had been newly born again.

That might be why every last one of them looked incredibly greedy.

“Because every hotel venue is fully booked with reservations for those kinds of events. That’s also one of the reasons I can stay in that suite.”

When I looked at Eleanor, she was wearing a mischievous smile. It seemed to be a riddle to pass the waiting time. I honestly started turning it over in my head.

In this world, there are very few fundamental principles. In other words, the price of things that don’t exist always goes up.

“In exchange for signing a long-term contract for that unbelievably expensive room, your employer gets priority reservations for this hotel’s reception halls during important events.”

“Fufu. That’s exactly right. Compared to the status of being able to secure a venue at the finest hotel on the Moon, renting out that room is nothing at all. Besides, if a room at that price is always fully booked, it’s good advertising for the hotel, too.”

“Advertising? Even the inside of the room?”

“Well.”

Chris would have surely puffed out her cheeks and sulked, or looked down in embarrassment, but Eleanor just smiled faintly like that.

An elegant composure.

Every time Eleanor moved slightly, her platinum blonde hair, looking the color of snow, swayed, illuminated by the light from the lobby.

“But what kind of company is it? To have this many people show up, it must be quite something.”

When I said that while looking around, Eleanor looked around in the same way with a somewhat cold gaze, keeping a slight smile on her lips.

“If I recall correctly, it’s a venture company that conducts transportation between lunar cities using an innovative method. I hear the amount of funds raised through the newly issued stock is a little over two hundred million Mool.”

The figure of two hundred million Mool was also amazing, but there was something else that caught my attention a bit more.

“An innovative transportation method?”

“I hear they utilize the Moon’s one-sixth gravity to transport cargo by catapulting it between cities. The time is one-tenth, the cost is one-third, there are no traffic jams, and they say this transportation method will become the mainstream from now on.”

I was genuinely impressed. It’s true that while lunar cities continue to increase to a second and third, the transportation of goods inevitably has to be done by something with wheels. In that case, launching them into friction-less space makes sense in terms of energy efficiency as well.

“You’re well-informed.”

As expected of Susie Wu.

When I said that to Eleanor as she waited for the limousine, Eleanor spoke without even looking at me.

“Because it was a project brought to me first.”

“Eh?”

“They came to me, saying they wanted to newly issue stock.”

For a moment, I didn’t understand what Eleanor meant. Judging the good and bad of stocks was Eleanor’s job, so she was probably entrusted with the analysis of this company wanting to issue new stock. But if that was the case, what did ‘first’ mean?

As I stood there confused, Eleanor continued, breathing out white mist.

“Stock analysis is my profession.”

“Right.”

“At the same time, Platinum Smith, which employs me, is an investment bank, so if a certain company says they want to newly issue stock, we assist with that.”

As Eleanor was speaking, the limousine arrived right on cue. Eleanor didn’t commit the bad manners of getting in while talking; she closed her mouth, smiled elegantly, and climbed into the black block of iron with a cream-colored interior.

Leaning her body against the high-quality leather seats where you could still feel the softness even under one-sixth gravity, Eleanor finally resumed her story after the door was quietly closed from the outside.

“And, a company issuing new stock wants as many people as possible to buy their stock at the highest possible price. Because the founders and venture capitalists who hold the company’s stock harbor a ‘modest wish’ for the stock price to shoot up spectacularly like a rocket the moment it’s listed, if possible.”

Without even announcing our destination, the limousine started moving quietly. Eleanor’s tone was equally quiet and smooth, but sarcasm was mixed in at the end, and her profile also looked somewhat displeased.

“Investment banks earn commissions by arranging for the stock issuance to proceed without a hitch. And that ‘without a hitch’ includes the stock price going up without a hitch. In other words.”

Having been told this much, even I could understand what kind of role Eleanor was expected to fulfill.

“They wanted Su… no, they wanted Eleanor-san to analyze it, and to get your stamp of approval.”

“That’s right. When the people in the investment banking division pitch the new stock, it would be a hundred times more effective for me to recommend it on TV than for them to just say, ‘We recommend this new company.'”

“I see.”

In a world where multiple new companies are born and listed every day, pipes and drums are necessary to gather attention and make a spectacular debut. At the same time, if a company is going to pay the same commission, it stands to reason they would want to go somewhere with powerful pipes and drums.

And since they are dropping commissions there, it would be easy to tell them to evaluate it generously.

“But, what did you mean earlier by ‘first’?”

When I asked that, Eleanor clearly furrowed her brow.

“Because they went to Iceman next.”

“Iceman?”

The man with ‘Falsehood’ written under him, the analyst suspected of receiving insider information from Burton.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I rejected them.”

I stared intently at Eleanor’s profile.

“As a result, that company decided to make Harald Bros their lead manager instead of Platinum Smith, and issue their new stock. I heard Iceman delivered an impassioned speech at the issuance briefing. Probably, in a little while, Iceman will release an incredibly flattering report.”

I wasn’t very knowledgeable about corporate finance, but even with my poor knowledge, I had some thoughts.

“Doesn’t that mean Platinum Smith missed out on a job?”

“I suppose so. If you become the lead manager of the syndicate handling the stock issuance, although it depends on the type of stock, for a new stock issuance the commission is generally around three to five percent.”

I recalled Eleanor’s words. What did she say in that lobby?

The amount of funds raised was roughly two hundred million Mool.

Five percent of that is ten million Mool!

“When I sent the document stamped with a ‘No’ electronic seal, the people in the investment banking division made faces just like yours, Hal-san.”

Then, Eleanor smiled provocatively.

Perhaps because sarcastic words suited her so well, that kind of smile suited her too.

“But, why would you do such a…”

Doing an analysis and giving it a slightly favorable evaluation wouldn’t be that difficult. If it meant a ten million Mool commission for just that, as an employee, wasn’t it rather something she ought to do?

Just as I thought that, Eleanor’s single sentence pierced me.

“Because it is a fraudulent company.”

Eleanor said, stroking the fur wrapped around her neck.

“Shooting cargo out between domes to transport it?”

Exactly like a noble, she tilted her chin up slightly and snorted.

“It’s an armchair theory. Are they planning to blow holes in the domes, I wonder?”

“Ah.”

“I checked with the Construction Bureau, and certainly such a construction plan has been submitted and is under deliberation, but I can’t imagine them issuing a permit to build such a catapult for a single corporation. All land outside the urban areas of the Moon is government-owned, and there are strict restrictions on private use, you see. If anything were to be permitted, it would be an observatory, a research facility for outer space, or at most, the installation of power generation solar panels. And really, what are they planning to do if a projectile goes astray?”

“…Are they preying on people from Earth who don’t know the circumstances well, or find it hard to investigate?”

“People on the Moon are being preyed upon just the same. This company doesn’t even have a catapult or projectiles yet, but they are already posting sales and profits. Why do you think that is?”

“Huh? Profits?”

When she put it that way, I was exasperated by my own carelessness. You can start a company armed with a single idea, but to list it on the exchange, you need a corresponding track record.

But with the catapult still in the application stage, how were they making a profit? As I stood bewildered, Eleanor narrowed her eyes and pressed her slender index finger to her temple, as if enduring a headache.

“They created an online exchange to buy and sell transportation schedules under the assumption that the catapult is built, and they are earning trading commissions from that. I re-read that company’s overview three times. I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. I kept wondering, what on earth is this company?”

“…”

I also didn’t immediately understand what I was being told.

A transportation system that doesn’t exist yet? Under the assumption it’s completed? Buying and selling transportation schedules? Come to think of it, towards the end of the last century, in an era where lunar cities weren’t even a concept yet, there was apparently a company that sold land on the Moon. What ever happened to that?

“It’s a feeling of ‘the sheer nerve of them.’ Calling it the transportation version of Avalon sounds nice, but even Avalon actually generates and transmits electricity. This is just a dressed-up casino. The reality is simple fraud. I can’t let a company like this be listed. And giving them a good evaluation is absolutely out of the question. Thinking that, I rejected them.”

Following her own justice.

Eleanor’s profile clearly said exactly that.

“Just like that bustling lobby, those kinds of parties are held every night in hotels on the Moon. The majority of them are probably similar types of companies. The stock market is boiling over so much that even stocks like that fetch an incredible price once listed. The founders become filthy rich. The people who were able to buy the new stock in advance are overjoyed. The investment banks getting their commissions are overjoyed. The hotels used for receptions and boisterous revelry, the restaurants providing food there, the tailors getting orders for new clothes, the construction contractors building the new homes they purchase—everyone is overjoyed.”

The way she spoke in one breath made it seem like the dissatisfaction swirling in the depths of her chest was leaking out uncontrollably. The reason Eleanor relied on medicine and whittled away at her life in that hotel was for the sake of justice.

Finishing her speech, Eleanor suddenly fell silent and closed her eyes.

Even with her neat features, a wrinkle formed only between her eyebrows.

Remaining in that posture, she took at least three deep breaths before saying this:

“They probably don’t care about what happens later. By that time, the main people involved will have sold off their stock and fled to Earth. There is far too much of that kind of malice in this world.”

Opening her eyes, Eleanor gazed outside through the smoked window.

“I resisted. But in the end, Harald Bros’s Iceman took it on, and it’s a massive success. Whatever I do alone is almost meaningless.”

What Eleanor was doing was the exact same thing Rena and I were doing at the government branch office: exposing the abuse of the subsidy system. Something like that truly is meaningless in the face of sheer numbers. Mountains of similar applications were going to other branch offices, and they would undoubtedly pass right through there. Even if we rejected them, they would pass over there, and the result was the same.

However, I didn’t think the act Rena and I were doing was all that pointless.

“It’s true that it might not affect the systems of the world,”

“…”

“But taking actions you believe to be right—I don’t think that in itself is meaningless.”

Eleanor shifted her gaze from the outside scenery to me, then looked down slightly and smiled.

“I’m sorry. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I said that, but Eleanor looked outside again, as if resting her head against the window.

Her appearance looked terribly exhausted.

“But, by pushing this stubbornness through, it is also true that problems are starting to arise…”

“Eh?”

Just as I asked back, the car came to a stop.

Eleanor looked at me and said this:

“It’s a problem I must solve. For now, let’s just liven things up by badmouthing Avalon today, shall we?”

Illuminated by the light coming in from the opened door, Eleanor’s smile was quite devilish.

---

‘Badmouthing Avalon’ was an aptly phrased way of putting it.

Led by Eleanor, I proceeded down a hallway laid with a crimson carpet that stood out even in the dim interior, passed through an area where wooden wine boxes lined the entire wall from floor to ceiling, and in the private room we finally reached, we talked about Avalon while eating a course meal. The only food I remember is the main meat dish. As for the rest, I didn’t even really know what the ingredients were. Strangely enough, I only remember that it was delicious regardless. It was almost like a stock where the company’s full picture is a complete mystery, but the price properly goes up anyway.

While thinking such cynical things, I spoke once again about my time going to Avalon’s company information session.

Avalon’s bottomless optimism, and the existence of the trading room.

The discomfort I harbored was regarding those two things.

What still bothered me was that while saying they weren’t gamblers, they were putting a gambler’s battlefield on display so prominently. If such a conspicuous division were to take a loss, it was inevitable that Avalon would instantly go into a tilt. And yet, they didn’t seem to fear that in the slightest.

If so, there were two conceivable possibilities.

Either they possessed a guaranteed way to make a profit—in other words, a surefire winning method like rigging a casino slot machine or card counting in poker. Or else, there was some other purpose behind this seemingly contradictory composition.

Eleanor said that possibility was certainly conceivable. Avalon hadn’t accurately published the breakdown of their own assets, namely their power plants and transmission networks, and the extent to which their profit as a power company accounted for their overall profit was remarkably opaque.

Of course, even a small general store in town, if operating on a decent scale, wouldn’t accurately grasp exactly what inventory they held and how much of it. It wasn’t hard to imagine that if it was a massive corporation, that degree of inaccuracy would become even worse, even without any malicious intent.

But even taking that into account, Avalon as a whole felt incredibly unnatural, she said.

Eleanor said she had gathered all of Avalon’s official information existing on the Moon, and gave me a small recording media. She said it contained the most detailed profit and financial figures possible.

I accepted it while eating a dessert of hot, bitter espresso poured over cold, sweet vanilla ice cream. In a setting of dining with a beautiful young lady at an elegant, high-class restaurant, it was probably the perfect dessert for a situation involving nitpicking a giant corporation.

It wasn’t exactly a ‘thank you’ for the recording media, but when parting ways, I presented the apple pie Lisa had made me bring. Before even getting servile about whether it would suit a noble young lady’s palate, a homemade apple pie in a cloth bag was disproportionate for someone like Eleanor, who suited an ultra-high-class restaurant so well in the first place.

However, Eleanor looked incredibly happy to receive it, and said she would have it as a late-night snack. It should have been quite late at that point, but Eleanor said she still had several reports left to compile.

It truly seemed like an extreme workload; looking at her delicate figure, I could only think that her brain was consuming all the calories of the food she ate. When I told her she should rest once in a while as we parted ways, Eleanor just smiled and didn’t reply.

For the realization of justice, for that day yet to come, she had to increase Susie Wu’s influence. For such an Eleanor, there was no time to rest. And the role of exposing the incomprehensible mysteries of their target, Avalon, was something I had taken on, whatever the reason.

I had to do my best, including the possibility that I might end up telling her the suspicions against Avalon were just her imagination. However, the figure of Eleanor as we parted ways looked terribly frail to me. It was visibly obvious that she was physically struggling.

On top of that, regarding the “problem” Eleanor had muttered about in the car, that fact bothered me just a little bit before I fell asleep.