Ch.122Work Record #019 – Night of the Returned Children (3)

At dawn the next day, all the hologram trees were twinkling with a golden star floating at each of their tops. Christmas had arrived.

In truth, it wasn’t a particularly significant day to celebrate. Religion was something that reminded people of Hollowed Creek, and Christmas was originally said to be a day honoring a saint of that religion.

That story has now scattered beyond the realm of memory. The only reasons Christmas matters now are that everyone knows the date and that it’s the biggest holiday. It’s simply the day that attracts the most attention.

Farmers Corporation’s climate control drones filled the sky, twinkling like clusters of stars and creating irregular patterns. They probably covered the entire metropolitan area.

Thanks to them, the air that rushed in when I opened the window was pristine. It was as clear as the pre-war air I had experienced in virtual reality with Ms. Eve. I took a deep breath.

Everyone knew it was already too late to offer prayers, but no one knew if it was truly too early to give up. We would find out today as Farmers Corporation did its utmost to show us a blue sky.

A full stomach enables a person to walk, and hope makes a person want to walk. Maximum efficiency. For this one Christmas day, Farmers would replace Belwether as the most respected megacorporation.

As time passed and morning fully arrived, a drone flew through the open window and handed me a box.

The sender was Enzo Casetti… a gift from Mr. Enzo. Opening the heavy box, I found a hologram projector.

It was the same model that President Yoon used for mission briefings at Nightscape. As if confirming I’d received the item, a connection request came in from Mr. Enzo. I accepted.

“Iji, now that you’ve received your freelance license, you’ll need this. There will be times when you work with mercenaries other than Nightscape, and you can’t conduct briefings with just a virtual screen.”

“Ah, I hadn’t even thought of that… thank you. You know I’m already working with another company too.”

“Kinu, Kanun Company, right? Definitely. I did some research, and there were no issues except for Simon Verami and Noah Verami. The employees have had connections with those two for over ten years, since they moved to LA.”

It seems only Simon himself pronounces it as “Jimon.” But if they were people who had lived in the same neighborhood, that could be a problem in its own way.

The reason Noah Verami was problematic was because of his mother’s death. If they had lived in the same neighborhood, would they not know about that? They might be more bound by fate than I thought.

When I went looking for Noah, Riley had stopped me. He was ready to resort to violence against a freelancer. Kanun Company was still an organization to be wary of.

“If Nightscape is a building, Mr. Enzo would be its cornerstone. I’m always grateful. Oh, and even though you said you couldn’t come to the party, have a happy Christmas.”

“You too, Mr. Arthur, have a hap- happy Christmas. You’ll like Ms. Eve’s dress…”

“Come on, you’re not even teasing me anymore. I’ve been dying of curiosity since yesterday.”

I ended the call with the same frivolous banter. Other gifts had arrived too, and delivery notifications for the gifts I’d sent were starting to appear. Kay had sent me the device we used when infiltrating Half & Half.

It was a device that copied signals from computational assistants, if I remembered correctly. It seemed like it would be useful, and it was very much like Kay. I took one out and copied the signal from my computational assistant.

I’m no longer an offliner. I can’t completely block signal detection anymore. At the very least, I needed to know how to deceive it. This was an excellent method.

President Yoon’s long gift was… a sniper rifle. Is she conducting some experiment to make me the perfect mercenary? It didn’t have a scope since it was eye-synchronized.

To be a mercenary who can do anything and be anywhere, you must be able to do anything. The card included said that watching my efficiency makes her act like a greedy parent.

I’ll need separate training for this. After checking the rifle, I put it in the accompanying case that looked like an instrument case. Tina’s gift, labeled “To the Boogeyman,” was… a mask.

It was filled with a fluid substance that constantly distorted and rippled, creating an ever-changing grotesque pattern like a warped human face. This would be more suitable as a Halloween gift.

From her perspective, I was the Boogeyman on her side. Unlike the Belwether Grand Duke with a similar nickname, I was the closet ghost who didn’t hunt mutants. It must be a symbol of trust.

Tina’s handwriting was quite flowing, but there was more delicate writing visible in various places on the box. It was obvious whose handwriting it was. The corners of my mouth couldn’t help but turn up.

However, Vola’s gift and Ms. Eve’s gift hadn’t arrived. No, just Ms. Eve’s gift. Shortly after, a message arrived from Vola saying “The gift isn’t finished yet.”

Is Ms. Eve planning to give it to me in person? Thinking she couldn’t possibly be unprepared, I put on the suit exactly as I had seen it at the tailor’s yesterday and adjusted my appearance. I tucked a small Evil Deed at my waist.

I still wasn’t used to tying a tie, but I was good at following what I’d learned. After seeing that it was tied quite decently, I left home. It was time to meet the returned children.

The meeting place was the office again. As I passed through the automatically opening door, I saw President Yoon in a neat suit. Vola had also arrived. Her appearance in just suit pants and jacket was no different from usual.

What showed through wasn’t indecent anyway, as it was just the cross-section of her meticulously crafted full-body prosthesis. At least, no one would see it that way unless they were a cyborg supremacist like her.

Vola approached me, slapped my back, and output a laughing sound. Feeling awkward, she slapped me again and said:

“Some parts haven’t arrived, so wait a few more days, kid. No, wait. From the 27th, you…”

“I have bodyguard duties from the 27th. I won’t get it until the new year.”

“Damn! I should complain to those parts company bastards. Not letting me give a gift on time to a machine made of our flesh. I looked at what you sent me too, since it was full-body prosthesis parts, but it wasn’t there either.”

The gift I gave Ms. Vola was replacement and modification parts. Since I don’t know much about full-body prosthesis modifications, most were high-quality basic parts, so there wouldn’t have been anything specialized.

Soon, Ms. Mila came out in a neat sky-blue dress like a prom dress, and Kay walked over with his usually fluffy hair neatly arranged and wearing a suit, then shuddered unnecessarily.

“Ugh! This really reminds me of when I lived like an idiot in the old days. Do I have to go too? I could just stay here with Tina and watch the office!”

As we all laughed at his comment, there was a rustling sound from the changing room.

Then, Ms. Eve walked out wearing a snow-white party dress with one shoulder exposed. She couldn’t maintain her cool attitude. Her face was flushed with blood.

She approached me and made a frivolous comment, perhaps trying to act natural, but it wasn’t enough to hide anything.

“You look about twice my size, Arthur. I shouldn’t have agreed to a form-fitting dress. They said this was natural for a party dress, but all the dresses I wore in the Creek were loose. Um…”

Everyone knew but no one mentioned it. The most active expression of opinion was Ms. Mila’s eyes sparkling dazzlingly as she watched us from behind.

“Looks like Los Angeles got you again, right?”

About four and a half seconds of silence followed. This time, Ms. Eve could probably count the seconds too. Her heart beat about twice per second, and after her heart beat nine times, her answer came.

“Seems that way. Yes.”

Soon, a car sent by Belwether arrived. We crossed through downtown Los Angeles, which seemed to have returned to pre-war days for just one day, except for the clear air, blue sky, and black sea.

Farmers Corporation’s Christmas tree still had eight security team members stationed around it, and the H Entertainment advertisement on billboards, still showing a black silhouette, now had a large D-3 countdown attached.

We arrived at the hall rented by Belwether around noon. After showing my Belwether-approved freelancer license and bypassing the body search, I headed to the party venue.

It didn’t seem too late, but we were later than most of the returned children who would have come from the Belwether employee quarters rather than from the city like us.

Voices could already be heard from inside the party hall. It was a familiar voice. Harry Elrod. The valedictorian who had been recognized for the most excellent efficiency among the returned children.

“First, before we begin, let’s raise a glass in remembrance of those who couldn’t be with us today. First, for our colleagues who were purged by former branch director Walter Goodman while trying to prevent the coup…”

I quietly listened as the names of children who had aspired to join the Legal Assassination Team were listed one by one. If not even one had died at the hands of the security team, that would be… good but terrible.

I was just lucky. Not wanting to disrupt the memorial atmosphere, I waited briefly at the door, but after all the names were called, what I heard next made my skull throb.

“And for those who died in the line of duty, six Shepherds from Security Division 4, Arthur…”

Couldn’t they at least double-check the list of the deceased before writing the eulogy? Ms. Robin… Ms. Robin must be confused right now too.

No, at least four of them should have seen my face on the net. Even Julia, who had placed a request with me, remembered my face. I feel like asking Chance to inject me with painkillers.

Even if I entered as quietly as possible, it was obvious that attention would be drawn to me, and now I was about to be treated like someone back from the dead. Holding back an incredulous laugh, I pushed open the wooden door to the party hall.

I faced Harry, standing on the podium wearing a high-quality artificial body. I met the gaze that focused on the sound of the door opening. As if that weren’t enough, the party hall door was shorter than Vola’s height, so I had to duck my head to enter.

Was I just thinking to myself that I had been lucky? My luck was terrible. Or I was paying the price for good fortune. I shuddered at the feeling of widening eyes from the gathered stares.

What should I say first? Spitting out words now was at least thirty times harder than having my chest pierced by Adrian and coughing up blood. At least.

“Unfortunately, I’ve died twice and come back twice, so let’s stop there? They say the third time is a habit, right, Harry?”

The atmosphere in the party hall froze completely. He jumped lightly from the podium and approached me, starting to ramble a bit.

“What the… how did this happen? Weren’t you definitely killed during the Jaina terrorist attack? We all knew you were the only casualty from the security division then, so… if you were alive, why didn’t you contact us?”

Once again, I had one job. I had to process these nonsensical words into something that made at least some sense. I had to censor the part about meeting Mr. Günter, no, actually I had to censor everything related to the coup.

‘Oh, Walter stole my brain to cultivate enhanced bodies for the coup, but I thwarted his plan, escaped, and then my work record was erased by the disciplinary committee.’ Right. I just need to make this sound natural.

It might be faster to just say I was scouted by the Special Operations Division and processed as deceased. After all, I had a small Evil Deed at my waist. Damn, even such an insane thought seemed reasonable.

I decided to use the magic words. Time to cast the magic of colors.

“Half of it is black, and half is orange even to me. To you, it would be red.”

With those words, I transmitted my freelancer license to the view of the returned children gathered at the party. It was a license full of “record deleted,” “censored,” and “information unavailable.”

Harry, who had scanned my freelancer license, spoke with an incredulous voice. I was three times more incredulous than any of my peers gathered here.

“Just how entangled is this situation?”

“It’s not entangled with anyone.”

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing happened. While Belwether was in chaos, I was working at Nightscape. This is our president.”

It was truly laughable now. The party seemed to be starting with a quiz show. The questioner couldn’t give hints, and the respondent couldn’t give answers—a damned game of twenty questions.

I suppressed the urge to bang my head against the wall out of frustration. Yes, this definitely required superhuman willpower. Fortunately, the returned children found an efficient method.

He decided to ask President Yoon, who was standing beside me. After shaking hands first, he said to her with a slightly dazed expression:

“So, if you could provide some additional explanation, I’d appreciate it. Since you said you’re the president…”

“Everyone here with us is a colleague from Nightscape, the mercenary staffing company where Arthur works. We found Arthur while recruiting Belwether retirees and… hired him. He’s been working at Nightscape ever since.”

That was all President Yoon could say. And with just that, Harry succeeded in piecing together the outline. He looked at me again and asked:

“How many times does ‘for certain reasons’ appear if you exclude the black and red parts? Roughly.”

“About a million times. For certain reasons I survived, for certain reasons I retired, for certain reasons I couldn’t contact you, for certain reasons this, for certain reasons that. Get the picture?”

“Yeah. I get it. I get the picture. Then what I should say here is…”

“Yeah, anyway.”

“Good. Anyway, welcome back, Arthur. If there are more people back from the grave waiting outside the door, tell them to come in quickly. I’m starting to wonder whether we should drink the memorial toast or not.”

I took the memorial toast glass he offered. Only then did the incredulous feeling somewhat subside, and only then could I recall who this atmosphere I had ruined was meant for.

“No, there’s no one else. I’m the only one lucky enough to be buried so shallowly that I could dig myself out with my hands. The Legal Assassination Team colleagues… they were all buried deep. Special Ops was on his side too.”

Since I was the one who broke the memorial atmosphere, it was my responsibility to restore it. I was about to hand the eulogy back to Harry, but he gestured to me with his chin. He wanted me to do it. I decided to fulfill my responsibility.

“So, the only part of this memorial toast that can be taken lightly is the few drops poured for me. The rest of the drink deserves seriousness. Still, don’t be gloomy. Those guys wouldn’t have resisted gloomily.”

To speak words of remembrance, one should use the language of those for whom the words are meant. I drew upon the language of an old and powerful beast. I conveyed to all my peers what I had heard from him.

“Slaves obey, machines produce, but only humans enjoy. Instead of submitting to inefficiency like slaves, here’s to the Legal Assassination Team colleagues who would have resisted for efficiency, for what can be enjoyed.”

Without anyone taking the lead, everyone slightly raised their memorial toast glasses, then put them down before drinking. The administrative team leader who was about to announce the start of the Christmas party only walked out from behind the podium after the sharing of the memorial toast was finished.

Our eyes met briefly. She looked at me with a warm gaze. She had heard my voice before. No, to be precise, we had agreed that she hadn’t heard it.

The concentration of truth in the party hall was diluted, but the concentration of sincerity was thick. Perhaps that was enough to start the party.