Onaga instantly stepped forward. His small frame moved with lightning speed, pushing Aldo's well-proportioned body clean behind his back as his delicate face flushed with an urgent, defensive heat.
He threw a sharp, exasperated glare over his shoulder directly into Aldo's dead-fish eyes.
"You are absolutely, phenomenally terrible at basic human communication, Aldo," Onaga whispered loudly, his breathy voice cracking with annoyance. "It would be an absolute miracle if we could just hire a professional diplomat to stand in front of you every time you open your mouth. Stay back."
Onaga turned back around, straightening his posture as he approached Lourdes Renaud. He extended his smooth hand toward her with a warm, incredibly gentle smile that radiated pure, unthreatening softness.
"Let's cooperate, Lourdes," Onaga said softly, his voice full of genuine, open warmth. "We aren't the monsters you think we are. We want the same freedom you do."
Lourdes Renaud didn't look at Onaga's hand. Her dark brown eyes remained fixed on Aldo's vacant face over the smaller boy's shoulder, her brow furrowing with a look of deep, innate revulsion.
"That guy..." Lourdes said, her voice dripping with sharp, analytical hatred as she pointed a finger at the commander. "He looks exactly like the kind of cold, calculated creature who plots to become a brutal military dictator. I absolutely despise dictators. My native France has spent centuries overthrowing them."
Aldo let out a short, dry chuckle from behind Onaga's back, his rosy lips moving with a cold, historical amusement.
"Weren't Napoleon I and Napoleon III both classified as dictators within your native historical matrix?" Aldo asked, his voice a flat, deadpan drone. "Napoleon I was officially appointed as Consul for life before declaring himself Emperor, and Napoleon III established a second hereditary empire through a direct military coup. Both of them successfully built centralized monarchies on the bones of your revolutions."
Lourdes Renaud's face flushed a deep, angry red. Her fists clenched at her sides as she took a menacing step closer to Onaga. "But France is currently a liberal democratic republic!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the mine. "We broke the crown for good!"
Aldo brushed his hands together with a sharp, dismissive smack, his dead-fish eyes staring right through her.
"Then let us assume a hypothetical scenario," Aldo said coldly. "If you successfully overthrow the Heilop monarchy within this territory, what specific governance structure will you establish in its place?"
"Of course we will establish a true liberal democracy!" Lourdes Renaud declared instantly, her chin tilting upward with absolute, ideological certainty.
Aldo stood perfectly still. An absolute, crushing silence stretched across the cave mouth for five long seconds. His dead-fish eyes were entirely vacant, reflecting nothing but the dim shadows of the cave.
Lourdes Renaud's jaw twitched with an intense, burning annoyance under his silent judgment. Unable to bear it, she stomped her heavy boot against the gravel. "What kind of pathetic, arrogant attitude is that?!" she barked.
Aldo rolled his eyes slowly, a look of profound, mechanical exhaustion crossing his fair face. "You are not kidding, are you?"
"WHAT, DO YOU THINK I'M JOKING?!" Lourdes roared, the sound echoing down the deep mine shafts.
Aldo took a slow, measured breath, his voice remaining terrifyingly calm and level as he delivered his analysis.
"When a democratic republic is established within a socio-economic structure like Terre," Aldo explained, his tone flat, like a ledger being read aloud, "there is absolutely no mathematical probability that the population will achieve instant cohesion. The people will not be magically free from suffering, one hundred percent of the populace will not become literate overnight, and the administrative institutions will remain weak, corrupt, and completely unprofessional. This realm is effectively the Middle Ages combined with volatile fantasy elements. You are completely, profoundly delusional if you believe a simple ballot box will alter the baseline resource scarcity of this continent."
Lourdes Renaud's finger shook with pure, unyielding rage as she pointed directly at Aldo's face. She turned to Onaga, her voice cracking with ideological disgust.
"Look at him!" she yelled. "Look at this creature! How can a supposedly revolutionary person have any real will to fight? How can he possess any true desire for human freedom when his soul is as dry as dust?"
Onaga let out a soft, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to soothe her raging temper. "Please, don't take it personally, Lourdes," Onaga pleaded gently. "Taichou-sama is just... he is permanently anxious about logistics. He is overly prepared for every worst-case scenario, deeply pragmatic, and entirely unromantic about political philosophy. He doesn't mean to insult your history; he just looks at everything like a math problem."
Lourdes swung her finger around, pointing it directly at Comtois, who was still grinning widely on his ore crate. "And what about that giant ox?! That guy only looks like he has revolutionary ideas because he's personally amused by the chaos!"
Comtois instantly started, his goofy expression freezing as his mouth dropped open in absolute surprise. He blinked twice, pointing a thick finger at his own chest. "Hey! Who told you that?!" Comtois gasped, his voice full of genuine bewilderment. "That's an unauthorized psychological profile!"
The atmosphere inside the cave mouth sank into an incredibly awkward, tense stillness. Onaga stood frozen between the groups, his hands hovering in the air as he looked back and forth between Lourdes's fierce face and Aldo's blank mask.
Near the gear trunks, Hano had completely checked out of the conversation. He was crouched on the dirt floor, lazily playing with the brass leveling screws of Aldo's advanced hodometer, his sharp eyes tracking the gear teeth with a restless, hyperactive focus.
Aldo stepped around Onaga, his well-proportioned body moving into the thin line of sunlight. He looked down at Lourdes Renaud, his rosy lips tightening.
"If you are going to rely entirely on your own localized resources now," Aldo stated flatly, his voice cutting clean through the awkwardness, "how exactly do you plan to escape this mining sector and initiate another armed revolution? Your guard is unconscious, your position is compromised, and your workforce is completely unarmed."
Lourdes Renaud gritted her teeth so hard a sharp grinding sound echoed from her jaw. Her muscular chest heaved as she tried to suppress the violent wave of anger rising in her throat, her dark eyes flashing as she prepared to launch another furious retort directly into his face.
Before she could speak, Onaga raised his hand, his soft voice breaking the tension with an urgent, calculated speed. "You know who we are, Lourdes," Onaga said gently, his eyes wide and sincere. "You know what the 204th is capable of."
Lourdes Renaud lowered her chin slightly, her breathing slowing down as she glared at the youth. "Of course I know you," she said bitterly. "You are highly well-known throughout the Federation. Specifically for your brutal efficiency in suppressing local labor rebellions and exterminating high-threat magical monsters, like the beast of Drakolimne. The lords trade stories of your efficiency over wine."
Onaga stepped closer, his delicate face lighting up with a soft, strategic smile as he laid out a proposal.
"Then what would you think if I officially provided you and your entire cell with secure accommodation in the Farmland sector?" Onaga offered, his tone sweet and reassuring. "The Federation officially assigned that territory to our command in Central Mikhland. We manage over twenty hectares of land. It is an incredibly vast area, sparsely populated because the soil is currently unsuitable for standard farming, and we are in the middle of a long-term rehabilitation initiative."
He took a short breath, his eyes darting toward the miners watching anxiously from the shadows.
"Furthermore," Onaga continued smoothly, "because our company is so well-trusted by the high command, the local garrison will never question our border movements. We can easily shelter you. If the inspectors ask any questions, we will simply state that you and your comrades are random Earthling refugees fleeing the northern wars and famine. The system will accept it without a single second look."
Lourdes Renaud froze. Her dark eyes widened slightly as her mind processed the staggering logistical value of his offer. She looked from Onaga's delicate face to the massive crates of advanced gear.
"But... you boys are active members of the PCA," she whispered, her voice shaking with a sudden, profound uncertainty. "You are the iron fist of the crown."
Hano let out a massive, incredibly loud yawn from the floor, stretching his agile arms over his head as he dropped a brass gear back into the trunk with a light clink. He looked up at her with a sleepy, hyperactive smirk.
"Oh, come on, lady," Hano said, his sharp voice echoing through the tunnel. "Do you honestly think the entire 204th Company would risk our high salaries and our comfortable lives to hide a bunch of rebellious miners if we didn't share some kind of ultimate revolutionary ideal? We aren't stupid. We know the system has to break. Now stop shouting and take the deal."
Lourdes Renaud looked at all four of them in sequence—Hano's lazy, agile posture; Comtois's solid, grinning form; Onaga's soft, hopeful face; and Aldo's unyielding, dead-fish eyes.
A long, heavy silence filled the cave mouth, the cool draft from the deep shafts ruffling her short hair. Slowly, her rugged, muscular arm moved forward. She extended her hand, her rough fingers wrapping around Onaga's small, delicate hand in a firm, binding handshake.
Onaga's face broke into a wide, brilliant smile, his relief visible in the instant relaxation of his shoulders. Hano let out a sharp chuckle, jumping to his feet with an agile leap. "Excellent! We have more allies now! The network is expanding exactly according to schedule!"
With the tension finally broken, the ambient noise of the cave returned. Across the cave mouth, Comtois was already deep into a completely separate, highly animated argument with one of Lourdes's male miners, his massive arms gesticulating wildly in the air.
"Look, I don't care what your grandma told you back in Lyon!" Comtois barked cheerfully, his goofy face twisted into an expression of pure, assertive debate. "The traditional baguette is completely, fundamentally overrated! It's ninety percent crust and it turns into a literal concrete weapon if you leave it out for twelve hours! A proper sourdough loaf has ten times the structural integrity for a long-distance campaign!"
Aldo didn't pay attention to any of them. He had walked three paces away from the group, his well-proportioned body crouched down near the base of a rotting oak stump near the cave entrance. His dull, dead-fish eyes were locked with a terrifying, absolute intensity onto a long, black line of mountain ants crawling over a piece of dry bark. He watched them move with total, vacant fascination, his rosy lips slightly parted because the geometric efficiency of their march looked... simply interesting.
Lourdes Renaud stepped back from Onaga, her dark brown eyes tracking the red-suited commander's strange, static posture with a deep, creeping unease. She nudged Onaga's elbow, her voice dropping into a tense whisper.
"Did you say he was a baseline nerd before he got summoned to this world?" she asked, her jaw tight.
Onaga let out a soft, melodic chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he looked over at his strange commander. "Perhaps," Onaga whispered back, his tone amused. "He hasn't changed a bit."
Lourdes Renaud's face completely tenses, her rugged features hardening into an expression of profound, historical dread. She stared at the back of Aldo's fair neck, her arms crossing over her chest.
"He is the most unique, terrifying nerd I have ever seen in my life," she murmured, her voice shaking slightly. "His morals are as solid and shifting as water. I am willing to wager a thousand gold sovereigns that he has never once in his entire military career shouted a single, morale-boosting remark to his subordinates before a battle."
Hano suddenly jumped straight into the space between them, his hyperactive face split by a wide, roaring grin as he pointed at the commander. "Are you kidding?!" Hano laughed, his voice snapping with pure, energetic delight. "That's literally his trademark! No speeches, just maps! If you try to ask for an inspirational speech, he just reads you a budget deficit report!"
Lourdes Renaud let out a long, heavy sigh, the final traces of her defensive anger evaporating into the cool mountain air. She turned back toward the dark shadows of the tunnel, her raspy voice rising in a clear, authoritative command to her waiting people.
"Brothers and sisters, get your gear ready," she ordered firmly. "We are moving out."