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Type-Kou No. 27, after repeatedly reaching and stretching to grab the banana hanging from a rod extending from the platform, eventually noticed a box in the corner of the room. After a brief period of trial and error, it successfully stacked the box and retrieved the banana.

““Ohhh, impressive (isn’t it)!””

“Ahahahaha! Ideally, I’d make it human-sized, add a bit more flexibility, and perfect it… Well, creating intelligence equal to a human’s artificially may be impossible, but I aim to get as close as possible. Even so, for now, this is undeniably the most advanced autonomous golem on the continent—closest to a human in design.”

Buoyed by the textbook line from the female art of flattery—“Sasuga!” (“As expected of you!”)—Mr. Edward happily launched into his explanation.

Well, given that this is the result of confidential research, he rarely gets the chance to boast about it. On top of that, the audience is a woman—it’s no wonder he’s over the moon.

“Oh, really? I had no idea! That’s amazing! Hey, Coppelia, how would you get that banana?”

Following up with another classic from the female flattery arsenal: “Shiranakatta!” (“I didn’t know that!”)—delivered with enthusiastic repetition.

When asked, Coppelia replied matter-of-factly:
“I’d kick the platform down and break it!”

Her deadpan declaration drew a wry smile from Mr. Edward.

Incidentally, other phrases in the female art of charming men include:

Su = “Sugoi desu ne!” (“That’s amazing!”)
Se = “Sense ga ii desu ne!” (“You have a knack for this!”)
So = “Sou nan desu ka!” (“Is that so?”)

I’ll be mixing those in as needed.

“Exactly. With that in mind, you can understand just how advanced Type-Kou No. 27 really is. Sure, there are rumors—urban legends, really—about an automaton discovered in ancient ruins that were supposedly indistinguishable from humans, or about some alchemist a few decades ago who allegedly created one. But speaking as a researcher, I can say without hesitation that the idea of artificial intelligence on par with humans is pure fantasy.”

And just like that, Mr. Edward, in his good mood, casually dismissed Coppelia’s existence.

A faint, twitching vein surfaced near her brow—perhaps my imagination.

Hmm… Still, to deny the accomplishments of the past just because they don’t fit within the boundaries of your own work—this man is certainly a serious and sincere researcher, but the type who’s too bound by established ideas to ever achieve true greatness.

Well, to be fair, Victor had the opposite flaw—he was so far ahead of his time that he forgot to watch his step and walked straight into disaster.

At any rate, the conversation had conveniently drifted into territory relevant to the purpose of our visit, so I feigned casual interest and asked:

“Oh my? I’d heard rumors that you once collaborated with that very alchemist on some kind of research into life itself?”

“Wha—!? Where on earth did you hear such nonsense? Well… now that I think about it, I did hear something from my predecessor about research into artificial lifeforms—homunculi—being conducted in the past. But that was abandoned quite a long time ago, I believe. You see, lifeforms tend to vary too much from one specimen to another, making them unreliable and impractical. They also have issues with durability. In the long run, mechanical models are far more dependable.”

“Mhm! You get it, don’t you? For a talentless nobody, that is!” Coppelia, clearly pleased, clapped Mr. Edward casually on the shoulder.

This is exactly why I keep telling her to stop speaking so informally… Ah—wait, could it be that she’s showing this friendliness because she’s adjusted her evaluation of him slightly upward, after initially looking down on him so completely?

“Um, so, just to clarify—there’s currently no ongoing research into homunculi, and no accessible records on the subject either?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Though I believe you can still access the records.” When I asked Mr. Edward—who looked a bit thrown off by Coppelia’s overly familiar demeanor—he seemed somewhat relieved as he gave a nod. “Ah, or perhaps the medical wing might have someone who knows more about it. I’ve heard rumors that some of the researchers involved in the homunculus project transferred over there.”

I see—so the next place to investigate might be the medical wing. I mentally filed that away while continuing the conversation with a show of interest.

“We’d eventually like to make them more human in appearance as well, but there are mixed opinions. The closer they look to humans, the more unsettling they can become. So for now, this is our compromise.”

Coppelia, meanwhile, was amusing herself by challenging Type-Kou No. 27 to rock-paper-scissors—cheating shamelessly with late plays, sudden rules like “no rock allowed,” and calling her move in advance only to switch it at the last second. Unsurprisingly, she was steadily increasing both her win rate and the automaton’s hostility level.

As I watched this unfold from the corner of my eye, Mr. Edward continued speaking with a cheerful smile about his dreams for the future—but from where I stood, the road ahead looked anything but smooth.

“Hah, laughable. To settle for such a compromise is the mark of a fool—owfgh!!”

Coppelia, about to lean back arrogantly and say something unnecessary, was cut off mid-sentence as I quickly stepped in, slipping a body blow into her side from a hidden angle and shutting her up before she could do more damage.

“I understand perfectly. To be allowed a glimpse of such remarkable research, despite being mere outsiders, I am deeply grateful.”

I gave a polite bow.

At that exact moment, an unpleasant sensation ran across my rear.

“～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～!?!”

“Hmmmmm… what a supple rump! The shape, the firmness, the give—truly the backside of a temptress. I nearly lost my senses, I did.”

I turned to see a man—perhaps in his fifties—dressed in the ceremonial robes of a high priest, flexing his fingers as if savoring the memory of the touch.

He was a lanky figure with sloped shoulders and a spectacular bald crown save for the sides of his head, giving him the appearance of a matchstick or a lightbulb. Despite the sacred garments, his face bore more the air of a scholar than a priest, now lit up in a broad grin as he addressed me.

“I’d heard the rumors, but you truly are the real deal. No wonder they call you the ‘Shrine Maiden Princess’ out in the city. I’ve got no objections—none at all… but if you’d let me give that bum and those breasts one more feel, I’d be willing to officially recognize you as such. Let me just—ghah!!”

Before the lecherous high priest, hands writhing obscenely, could take another step forward, Coppelia’s rocket punch smashed square into the middle of his wide forehead, sending him crashing to the floor.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! YOUR HOLINESS POPE THEODOROS!!!”

Mr. Edward, who had been stiff as a statue this whole time, suddenly screamed like the world was ending.

“ “Pope…?” ”

Coppelia and I looked at each other in stunned disbelief, then down at the man now collapsed with a bloody nose and a weirdly satisfied smile.

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