Shiori was lifting 300 pounds.
Veins surged along her arms and neck,
but her face remained completely calm—
like she was doing morning stretches.
The drone caught it—and snapped.
It dropped down fast,
like a cameraman who just realized he was filming the birth of a new cosmic threat.
It dove straight toward the barbell:
macro-zoom flooded the stream with glistening sweat on her skin,
every muscle fiber,
every millimeter of moving steel.
Stamped across the plate: “300 LBS”
— like the drone itself didn’t believe what it was seeing and needed to double-check the number.
The camera barely held stabilization.
The lens trembled slightly,
like the drone was worried about the ship’s structural integrity…
and its own life.
Shiori didn’t even blink.
Dick watched it all and exhaled:
“Well, fuck me… even the round idiot’s losing it.
Hey—back the hell off.
Let her work out like a normal human being.”
The drone—as if it heard him…
or ignored him—
drifted back smoothly, rose a little higher, and hovered in the center of the room.
It performed a slow 360-degree sweep, scanning everything and everyone—
like a silent, spherical director looking for the perfect trailer shot.
Airi sat beside Jackie, shoulder to shoulder.
The drone slid closer again, hovering right in front of them,
then shifted its lens from Shiori… to Jackie… and back—
like it was comparing reactions.
But Jackie couldn’t take her eyes off Shiori.
She stared like she was trying to decode the secret of the universe hidden in every movement of her arms.
The drone switched from Shiori to Jackie, then to Dick—
capturing everything, like it was collecting footage for a separate “emotional edit.”
Dick muttered.
“Hey, baby, staring like that ain’t polite,”
Jackie snapped out of it, like she physically pulled her eyes free.
“Oh—no, I wasn’t staring!
It’s just… samchon lifts heavy stuff before bed too.
He usually puts two barrels of kimchi on a pole… hee-hee…
and lifts one on each side.”
Dick froze.
Then, against his will:
“That’s… insane.
Man turned working out into kimchi training.
Ma Dong-Rho…
I still got a nervous twitch from when he visited the station…”
Jackie frowned—just for a second.
Then her face lit up with pride.
“Samchon says it strengthens his grip.
That way, he holds power tighter… control tighter…
No one can take from his hands what he worked so hard to grab.”
Dick froze again.
Then exhaled—like he gave up.
“Baby…
Ma Dong-Rho holds the title of king of the Iron Tiger Pa syndicate.
He runs the underworld of ten sectors.
Nobody’s taking anything from him.
Not even death.”
Jackie puffed her cheeks.
“Dick, don’t talk about samchon like he’s some kind of villain.
Got it?”
Dick immediately raised his hands—surrender.
And of course… the drone noticed.
It darted forward, stopped right in front of Dick,
and started snapping its aperture wildly—
zoom in, zoom out, zoom in, zoom out—
so fast the stream audience was probably getting motion sickness.
Dick blinked, sighed, and shifted his gaze from the drone to Jackie.
“Wouldn’t even dare, baby.
Now let’s get back on air.”
He nodded toward the holo-screen, where fresh lines of text were already streaming in.
“I’m seeing the feed…
Looks like the Author’s dictating into his shitty recorder again.
You ready?”
Airi folded her hands at her chest and tilted her head slightly.
“Hee… so this is how it works? [^人^]
Shiori-sensei and I listened to the episode where we first appeared in your story.”
Her voice cooled—just a touch.
“Bucchake, we were cautious at first. [｡･｀ω´･｡]
We even started analyzing things…
trying to figure out how you knew so much.
I had to run a full system check.
We thought there was a wiretap on the ship.
We were ready to find you…
and interrogate you.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“Even if it meant… （￣へ￣）
chikara de dēta o ubau koto ni natte mo.”
Her tone made both Dick and Jackie uneasy.
But then—instantly—she shifted back. Warm. Bright.
“But when Sēji-chama reached out to us,
everything made sense. [^._.^]ﾉ彡”
Dick frowned, thinking, then asked quietly:
“Wait… what do you mean ‘made sense’?
What the fuck does that even mean?”
Shiori set the bar down, stood up, and wiped her face with a towel.
“Dikku-san… think about it.”
She glanced at the screen.
“It’s Sēji-sama… sakusha-sama…”
A slight tilt of her head.
“Wakarimasu ka?”
Jackie nodded—more out of politeness than understanding.
“Ahh… yeah… I get it… hehe…”
She turned to Airi and lightly nudged her shoulder—
and instantly regretted it.
The android’s body felt like a metal wall.
Her face twisted for a second—but the smile stayed.
“Airi-chan… you scared me for a second there.
I’m really glad you didn’t have to… uh… interrogate us…”
Airi gently wrapped her arm around Jackie’s and rested her head on her shoulder.
“Jakkīi-nyan, I would never hurt you. [˶˘ ³˘[´͈ ᵕ `͈˶]
We’re kyōdai mitai na nakama.”
But Dick couldn’t let it go.
“So I’m the only fucking idiot here who doesn’t get it?”
He threw his hands out.
“What the hell does ‘it’s the Author’ even mean?
So what?!”
Jackie instantly switched gears, sensing where this was going.
Some things, she decided, are better left unanswered.
She gave a short whistle—
and the drone, which had been filming god-knows-what, snapped to attention.
It spun mid-air and locked onto her—like a disciplined, slightly unhinged cameraman.
“Our dear gremlins…
you’re still listening…
and now you’re watching our podcast
‘Night with Melody & Jackie Rho’!Broadcasting on Radio Nebula 69.99 FTLM—
with you tonight:Jackie Rho and Dick Melody!
And also… Shiori… and our sweetie Airi!”
Shiori straightened and spoke calmly:
“Minna, yōkoso.”
Airi mirrored Jackie’s expression—same eyes, same cheeks—and burst out cheerfully:
“Yahho~ Yahho~! Ｏ[≧▽≦]Ｏ♪♬”
Dick let out a heavy breath and slipped back into his baritone—
that seasoned, veteran-of-the-galactic-airwaves voice.
The drone immediately adjusted—drifting sideways, then up, then slightly down—
building a smooth, perfect camera arc.
It kept Dick’s face centered—like a true professional.
Just… slightly unhinged.
“Well, well, well…”
Dick glanced at the screen.
“I have no fucking idea what’s going on…”
He shrugged.
“…and honestly? I don’t give a shit.”
He pointed a finger at the stream of text.
“Alright… let’s see what this AUTHOR is sending us…
So, dear listeners…”