Toaru Majutsu no Kinsho Mokuroku SS - Volume 2 - Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 

What Is It the World Lacks? 

First Friday of April 

Brazil. 

The emerging world power was said to have the third-largest economic growth in the world, after China and India, but that blessing hadn’t yet reached the whole of the nation. Even in its capital, Rio de Janeiro, the gap between the rich and poor was immediately apparent, as though human lives had been cleanly divided along invisible lines. 

On one street corner of that Brazilian metropolis, one that had a notably shadowy impression, stood an Asian man. He was in his mid- to late thirties and was quite tall, and he had a handsome face. His appearance would have stood out like a sore thumb in the country he’d been born in, but in this one, he felt like it buried him in the crowds. 

But he wasn’t someone you might think to approach. 

He seemed to be fairly well-off, but he didn’t give off the impression of a mindless sightseer. To begin with, he had the sort of slick looks that didn’t stand out on this kind of back road. Who knew what kind of trouble one would get into if they approached him carelessly? 

“Oh, what is this, miss?” the man said into the dark. “You sure have something good on your hands there.” 

No response. But he could tell that she’d shifted. The sunlight almost never reached this spot, but silhouettes were still visible, if nothing else. Standing there was a girl with light brown skin and Latino features. 

Seemingly lacking any composure, she glared at the man. “What the hell do you want? Aren’t you a little old to be snatching allowances?” 

“You’ve got a gun in that handbag, don’t you?” the man retorted simply. 

This time, the girl’s shoulders really gave a start. And after that, they froze solid. 

Ignoring this, the man continued lightly, almost as if humming a song. “Not simple suicide, then—you plan to take someone with you. And not a family member or lover. It’s someone you hate. Usually, that means killing a debt collector or something to make it easier for your family. Am I right?” 

“…How do you know that?” 

“You might not believe it, but I’ve got an eye for this sort of thing,” the man said, pointing to his right eye and flashing her a mischievous look. “Let’s have a chat. Unfortunately, now that I’ve realized you’re out to kill, I’ll have to stop you, or people might decide I’m aiding and abetting a murder. And this might actually work out in your favor, too.” 

“Who are you?” 

“Hmm. Misaka. Tabigake Misaka.” 

Once the Asian introduced himself as Misaka, it was the girl’s turn to introduce herself. She said that her name was Inés. It could have been a fake name, but Misaka’s gut told him that was unlikely. To be blunt, Inés didn’t currently have the capacity to do something so calculating. 

“Are you Japanese? What do you do as a job? And do you have money?” 

“My job… Well, I guess you could call me an integration consultant. No money, if that’s what you’re after. My job is creating money, not saving it up. I am technically rewarded, but my wife is in charge of my wallet. I get so little of it to use that I have to seriously worry about ditching drinking altogether.” 

“You’re useless.” 

“So quick to cut me down. But it’s too early to give up. You might find a chance to get out of this quagmire you’re in by talking to me. In fact, I know of several people who have carved out their own paths in life by doing just that.” 

“?” 

“My job is to show what the world lacks.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Well, broadly speaking, I show people new business opportunities. If they implement the ideas I suggest in the right way, they can become presidents of whole companies. Tickled pink, on a bed of bills—” 

“That’s stupid,” interrupted Inés. She turned to look around, then pointed at a corner where consumer electronic garbage had accumulated in a pile. “The only stuff we got in this town is trash. Rio de Janeiro has a lot of different things, but those are the only kind we can have. Get it? We don’t even have the money to pay garbagemen to pick up the trash around here, so collection gets really backed up, too. Even if there was a chance, all we can do is twiddle our thumbs. That’s what it means to be poor. Rich people don’t want us turning it around on them right now. They even steal our chances away.” 

“Excuses? Excuses certainly feel good. The highest form of entertainment, in my opinion. What’s yours? The government? Society? The environment you were born into?” 

“What would you know anyway?” Inés didn’t lose her cool at even that; her quiet anger simply simmered within her. “I’m young and don’t have any schooling. The only thing someone like me can do is wipe down car windows, and I only get scraps for that. What am I supposed to do with that? It’s not even enough to pay interest on our loan. It’s barely enough to tip the men who come to collect.” 

“That isn’t true,” said Misaka simply, even seeing the girl’s resigned expression. “Your chance might be surprisingly close at hand. You just don’t see it.” He paused. “Hey, just a question for you. You’re not thinking I’m some kind of saint bursting with goodwill and an obsessively charitable mindset, are you? I have my own goals, so you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve thought it all through. I’m not trying to give you random, unhelpful advice, sip my tea, and pat myself on the back for it. I’m the type who personally takes care of the people he wants to make use of.” 

“A goal? Are you saying you’re going to make love to a kid or something to let her make money?” 

“A charming invitation, but unfortunately that would be rude to my wife, and I can’t help but remember my daughter, who is about your age.” 

“Then what else do you want me to do? You can’t possibly mean there’s some kind of chance in a place with illegally dumped bulk trash. That would be crazy.” 

“Oh, but it’s not.” 

“?” 

“I’ll let you in on a secret—I’m here on a request from a certain person. He wants me to do something about unlawful dumping in Brazil. That means I have to do something about it. Real pain in the butt, but it’s my job.” 

“That’s stupid. And impossible. What, are you going to put up some signs telling people to stop littering? No one will follow that. People who litter aren’t doing it because they want to. They know it’s wrong, but that doesn’t make illegal dumping go away. We just don’t have the money to take care of it the right way.” 

“Is that really true?” Misaka grinned. “Like I said, my job is to show what the world lacks. And this little slum world—plagued with its illegal dumping of consumer appliance trash and your crippling poverty—what does it lack? Yes, Inés, if you know the answer, then please raise your hand.” 

“It’s pretty obvious.” Inés sighed, annoyed, answering without wasting a second, “Money.” 

“Bingo.” 

“…So that was how you encountered the Asian calling himself a consultant?” 

“Well, yes. At first, I wasn’t sure whether to believe him, either. But I decided the possibility was worth taking the chance. Better that than diving into a lair of debt collectors with mafia connections with nothing but a gun anyway.” 

Inés was currently in the lounge of what was probably the most expensive hotel in Rio de Janeiro. A journalist, carrying recording equipment, was clad in a brand-name outfit, but Inés was wearing what she always did. Still, nobody was going to complain about that. 

The journalist went on. “Even so, retrieving the rare metals in the bases of consumer electronic garbage is quite a substantial business to start up.” 

“Well, everybody’s always known that integrated circuits and chips and the like had trace amounts of pure gold in them. Nobody did it because it was too much trouble to reclaim anything worthwhile, but we didn’t have any other options. We weren’t after loftier goals.” 

In the very beginning, there weren’t any machines or workshops. The entire operation relied on manual labor to pry off the plastic on integrated circuits, then patiently collect the gold, which was like fluffy lint. Once there was enough that it would fill about a lunch box, they would finally trade it in for paper bills. With those funds, tools to more efficiently extract the rare metals were finally obtainable, which helped earn even more money… It hadn’t taken very long for the whole thing to balloon into something one could officially call an “enterprise.” It hadn’t even been a year since that day. 

“One of the big hurdles was programming a machine arm for properly prying off the lids of all the different kinds of integrated circuits, but when we hit upon the idea of using ultrasonic waves to measure their sizes, it was pretty easy.” 

“Ultrasonic waves…?” 

“What, didn’t think a brat who never finished school could have come up with that? If I set my mind to it, stuff like that comes pretty easy.” 

Large swathes of Rio de Janeiro’s population suffered from severe income gaps. But on the flip side, that meant once a proper foundation was finally laid down, steady development and growth were bound to follow. Inés was a perfect example of that. 

“Reports are saying that illegal dumping all over Brazil, not even in just Rio de Janeiro, has fallen by over seventy percent. Word is that the Minister of the Environment will be giving you a commendation soon.” 

“People litter because it’s cheaper. If people are driven to that, they won’t have time to listen to things about morals and the belief that humans are fundamentally good. The best way to stop them from doing the wrong thing is to offer them a means of making money.” 

“And by telling people that trash is money, you’ve changed the entire world’s perspective on it.” 

“……” Inés fell silent for a moment at the comment. 

The man who called himself Misaka—was that what he’d been after? 

The world could change. 

And it would, so long as people who wanted to change it stood up and did something. 

The important thing was just to start acting. 

Was it his job to give people the power to do that? 

“Next, we’re going to use our funds to look for more efficient ways to reuse and recycle plastic and metals such as iron and steel. If we succeed at that venture, consumer electronics trash will turn into almost one hundred percent useful materials.” 

“That does sound promising. I’ve been hoping for a story about a bright view on the future,” said the journalist, trying to please her. 

Inés mostly ignored this, and suddenly she remembered what Tabigake Misaka had asked her. 

…What is it the world lacks? 

He was probably still fighting against the world. 

Because according to him, that was his job.