Me, Her, and the Ballistic Weaponry [Antique]

"Car Buddy Ka Buddy Ka Buddy Ka Buddy......"

Standing low, Taro leans toward the scowl. Skoll is standing up with his arms together, his face completely faceless.

"Kabadi, Kabadi, Kabadi..."

Taro turns his gaze to the side as he has been feeling breathless. There is the figure of a young male employee with a completely reassuring face. When the employee meets Taro, he just feels aggressive.

(Huh, that took!!

For a moment, Taro makes a touch to Skoll's arm without turning a gaze. When he flicks himself quickly, he runs out for a line drawn to the floor of the hangar.

But it strikes there, the black shadow.

"Die!!

"Bamofu!?

When was it around the back? Taro eats tackles by Alan from behind and rolls down the floor like a blow. Skoll walks up to him calmly and says, "That's an offensive shift," with his foot on his back.

"Come on. I don't even feel the gentleness... You know, that team is against the rules. Alan and Skoll are on the same team. I don't care what you think."

As he fell down and lay low, he only circled his face and turned to Alan and was tall. Alan sees it. "You're a creep," he goes on.

"It would be irresistible to follow the opposite rule. It's a headquarters-branch rivalry. Most importantly, you said it, didn't you?

To Alan's theory, Taro roars. Because there is usually little interaction between the branch and the headquarters, it was definitely Tailang who told me to play sports and get to know each other.

"I mean, what is it, this sport? I have no idea what the rules are."

Outside the coat, a grumpy marl emanates. Taro rotates his neck in the opposite direction and answers.

"Oh, my God, it's a kabadi, kabadi. It was super fashionable on Earth. I don't care if you're young or old anymore, Kabadi Kabadi. The winner of the World Games, that's already the hero level of humanity. When you play with elementary school kids, Cadro or Cabady are the iron plates, right?

"Huh" for Taro's answer. Doesn't matter. Good voice color marl. Alan goes on to say, "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"It's going to be a good exercise, and more importantly, I don't need tools. Taylor's right, it's a sport anyone can do... but don't feel like the rules are too vague for anything. How can you tell if the attacker shouldn't breathe? You even put a gas scanner on your mouth?

"Hmm, isn't that filling?

"Feeling hey... that's deep, what's a sport on earth guy"

Alan, how convinced you are. I couldn't agree with Taro at all, but it didn't matter, so I decided to snort for now.

"Oh, hey Alan. Speaking of which, didn't you just tell me to die?

"Hmm? It's not your fault, bro. Don't tell me you're not even close."

"No, no, I told you, didn't I? I told you to die for sure, didn't I?

"I didn't say it. I didn't say it"

"Really? That's crazy. I..."

It's like being a real brother to each other. Marl, who cheeks at leisure in the middle of the outfield, shrugs "Peace" with a blurry view of the two shagging as if they were children.

"Yeah, but, Miss Marr. It's a wonderful thing."

Next to such a marl, gymnastics clothing - a specially ordered white short sleeve with a name tag marked "This Way," blue half trousers made by Taro. He didn't have the courage to make a bloomer - Xiao Mei, dressed in, gets smudged. Marl answers without force, "Well, hey," stretching like a cat.

"Even so, those two are close. I don't know what you're up to with those shoulders... That's a little disgusting."

"Yeah, Miss Marr. But what you're talking about seems more disgusting."

To the voice of Xiao Mei, Mar listens to what is going on.

"Uhm, but Taylor. How's that working out for you?

"Imagine that, Alan. A girl will touch me from the other side... and after she touches me, it's all O.K., whether it's tackle or not. No problem with the rules"

"I see... by the way, that. What... Touch OK for places that could be socially annihilated if you suck?

"Ok if not deliberately. Jesus Kabadino Jail"

"... what a lovely sport. Admiral, you're a genius!!

"Hehe, let it be, brother."

Marl shook his fist with a mess at the conversation between the two of them that reached his ear.

"There's no way. Oh!! Abort! Abort! Abort!

Marl's voice wooded into a wide hangar.

"Yes, 60 extra rounds. Yeah, the payment is in cash... uh, wouldn't that be a little quicker? I'd like to hurry as much as I can."

Taro bows with a hand to the incense at the Delta Station office. The employees around them look at it sideways with strange faces.

"Yes. Oh, I understand. I'll see you soon... Huh. No, Marl. I don't have a toco to take anywhere for the previous price. Manufacturing companies are all at work."

Taro removes the incense and puts it on the table. Marr's "replenishing live ammunition? Taro nods powerlessly to the question.

"Ever since the wind started rumbling around, manufacturing seems like a handful. Little bites like ours are rarely even dealt with."

A soft cushioned chair with a sigh of richness. "How much was requested? Answer Marr's question by letting him open his fingers wide.

"You mean five times? Hmm, just like that. Bye...... but I'm in trouble. Could you take a look at this?"

Marl gently presses his chip against Taro's forehead as he walks over to Taro's side. The data is then transferred immediately onto Taro's BISHOP, and a list titled "Expense Estimate" appears skewed in his head.

"Yeah, just a month or so is this happening there? You're almost three times as close to hull equipment... here you go."

The amount of numerous expense items arranged by month, all in red letters. In other words, it was displayed as a price increase, indicating a surprising range of price increases, especially with regard to machinery and equipment. For Rising Sun, which owns a large number of battleships, there is a strong perception that mechanical devices break regularly.

"This guy's teething when it's time for a chance. If I could order a lot of warheads, I'd go up pretty cheap."

"I can't," Marr said to Taro's voice.

"I can't run a decent operation other than you. Some employees seem talented, but it'll take longer to grow up."

"That's right," said Marl, teasing the ceiling.

Since Taro had confirmed the usefulness of the live ammunition weapon, he had the Rising Sun's battleship crew test the warhead control firing. The result, however, was scattered, staying only to say that at best well-swallowed employees could manage to handle one turret.

In fact, the motion control of the warhead itself is difficult or irrelevant. But the problem was in dodging the debris incineration beam, where everyone took the form of squeamishes. Incineration beams are fast, numerous and fired continuously. Avoiding this will require at least one ballistic calculation of each of those beams. When various electromagnetic wave and jamming calculations were added to this, it was roughly good for ordinary humans.

"There's a limit to the amount of spare parts I bought together. Even if you can't help raising the sales price of a traded item, suddenly it's double the business, right?

"That's right... Central doesn't have that kind of purchasing power yet. Around the Alpha, it's an old system, so you can't expect much from minerals or anything."

"Well, you've been dug for a long time to blind me. So far, the company's making a lot of money, but in this situation, it's not weird to fall all at once."

Align and sigh, Taro and Marl. The two spend some time silently thinking about it, but I guess they eventually came up with something. Marl starts manipulating Taro's small terminals.

"I don't know what you're looking at...... uh, union membership application list? Is that so?

Try to peek into Marl's hand, Taro. And then Marl says, "Yeah, that's right."

"You said you were going under the current system for a while, and you didn't even see it properly. So far, 22 companies have been contacting me to join our union."

Taro exclaims, "Yep," to a fact he never thought he would.

"Surprisingly, we're famous, aren't we?

Marl with such a tall, fed up eye.

"That would make you famous if you imitated them both like you would save a station in a short time. Because of a well-known company called Adult Goods Transport, it's funny."

Taro accidentally raises his hands to Marl's stabbing gaze.

"No, no, it was with that transport that we have the Rising Sun now... by the way, was it some kind of blind company too?

"Yeah, right. I mean, this is a consultation."

When Marl operates a small terminal, he shows a co-op named "Makina" on that screen.

"It's a small manufacturing and processing company with 22 employees. It's called zero detail. The company itself seems to have been around for nearly 300 years, but it doesn't seem like it's been running much lately. I think we're looking to invest more in the Union than in mutual giving."

Taro snorts "Yeah" at Marl's words. His "Are You Making Me Join the TRB? To the question," Marl shook his head, "No, I'm not."

"Hey Taylor. Rail gun warheads and equipment for fine replenishment. Don't you think there's no need to stick to top notch products that flow to the market?

Something, the mare of the narrative that made it contain. Taro goes on to say "I see" to it.

"You want me to put a manufacturing company inside you? But does that mean you can do it right?

"I can do it," Marr said with a skeptical glance.

"It's another company that makes small attitude control thrusters loaded on warheads. So is the BISHOP receiver. The only place I buy it directly is by assembling and selling it."

Marr continues, "What's the problem" when he puts his index finger up and sticks it at Taro.

"Buy, collect, process, wholesale and retail separate parts. There's a margin on all of this. If you were doing it all in one company, you'd be able to keep it at a much lower price. This is especially true of live weapon warheads."

"Well, I guess so. Can we talk about this for a long time?

"That's not true. I think it will be very simple to clean up. Because..."

Marl pushes his index finger into Tailang.

"- You just have to buy it. Manufacturing companies, blueprints. Do you know how much cash our company has right now?

Taro opened his mouth gently to Marl's rigid proposal.