Ch.141Work Record #020 – Ep 6. Time to Return to My Main Job (1)

The next day, Heroism & Hope made a proposal to Nature & Nature. It was a declaration of Heroism & Hope’s complete victory and a humiliating offer for Nature & Nature.

Their plan to eliminate Gardner had failed, and now that Polaris had returned to the city, they couldn’t attack the penthouse. Polaris’s shark pack was chomping at the bit.

Still, rather than simply arresting or killing them, they proposed creating content. The proposal was simple: they would hand over Gardner, and Nature & Nature could send mercenaries to try to kill him. I agreed.

However, there was one condition. Gardner would appear with no gimmicks except for bulletproof tights and a sniper veil. All of this was to fulfill what Polaris wanted.

Nature & Nature’s mercenaries would have no second chances. If they failed to kill Gardner, they would die. With N-Enter likely to abandon them anyway, succeeding was their only path forward.

Though N-Enter would lose face, eliminating Gardner now would bring more practical benefits than image damage. So, the proposal was accepted. The city trembles like G-Enter’s arena.

Originally, it seems they planned to eliminate these N-Enter mercenary remnants while under optical camouflage, but the plan was reassigned at Polaris’s request. The traitors would savor the moment of terror.

I’m guided to Heroism & Hope’s security team armory. It wasn’t particularly large. Only military contractors likely had warehouse-sized supermarket-style armories.

“Unlocking the armory by executive authority. Welcome, callsign Gardner. Please inspect the interior and request any equipment you need. It will be recolored and issued to you.”

The armory management AI’s voice is much stiffer than Stephanet’s. I find myself missing the sweet Stephanet who used to joke around.

Most items prepared in this warehouse were Belwether equipment recolored with Heroism & Hope’s colors and logo. The corners of my mouth involuntarily curl upward.

This was perhaps a marshmallow experiment. After enduring something distasteful, I wasn’t just given another marshmallow—I was taken to the candy store.

“The armory will be closed to protect callsign Gardner’s identity. Anyone near the door, please step back at least three paces.”

I don’t think I’ve ever gone shopping with this kind of treatment before. It feels strange to be alone in an armory that should be bustling with security personnel and supply staff.

I walk through wearing only the bulletproof inner lining. Despite the precautions taken, I chose proper combat gear worn by H-Enter’s assault team instead of the tactical pants that were closer to fashion accessories.

Over the jumpsuit reinforced with knee and elbow pads and other protective gear, I put on body armor that covers up to the pelvis, reminiscent of what I wore as Shepherd Six.

While I could use everything else that was prepared, the helmet was different. The standard helmet with a transparent visor for visual identification didn’t suit Gardner.

I put on a semi-transparent display helmet prepared by staff that concealed even my face shape. It was similar to what Mr. Günter had given me. I draped the sniper veil over it.

Normally, Gardner would have worn powered armor—a fully enclosed suit that would make bullets irrelevant. This couldn’t completely avoid being broadcast.

Perhaps I’m too wrapped up in military contractor logic. Outside of military contractors, isn’t fully enclosed powered armor only for special operations? I briefly consider this possibility.

When I hand the equipment I’ve worn to the following drones, they return with black coloring suitable for Gardner instead of H-Enter security team’s deep purple. Will this show up properly on camera?

I request a Belwether carbine with a mix of Fitts & Morrison and Belwether attachments, as usual. It felt exactly like my own carbine. I could use it comfortably.

Since the mercenaries would be properly equipped with body armor, I packed anti-powered armor ammunition. Anti-powered armor rounds also made excellent armor-piercing rounds. I insert only four magazines into the plate carrier for when needed.

There were a few more things I needed but couldn’t see. I speak with Gardner’s preset activated. I had to speak as Gardner to the artificial intelligence here.

“Calling armory management AI.”

“Do you need assistance? I am Sidekick, Heroism & Hope’s building management AI. I’ve been ordered to provide all available support to callsign Gardner.”

There couldn’t be a more fitting name than Sidekick for Heroism & Hope’s management AI. Suppressing a laugh, I said:

“One transport drone. For carrying spare magazines and additional equipment.”

“Confirmed. I’ll bring one high-powered transport drone with additional armor plating from the main warehouse.”

Shouldn’t this be kept in the armory too? While waiting for the drone to be delivered, I also request a full-length rifle, not a shortened one. The carbine should be enough in most cases, but emergencies always happen.

I also gather grenades with modular pins and bodies. I attach one four-pack bundle to my plate carrier and manually connect flash grenades in pairs.

A flying duffel bag-sized drone arrives. I place the rifle in its internal gun compartment and store additional magazines and reconnaissance drones inside.

Preparations are nearly complete. I double-check the life support device at the back of my neck. While my normal body required several medications, Type 4 didn’t need them.

There were many things I hadn’t done or used in the security department, but fortunately, I had learned from the assault team training manual that the chief had… strictly speaking, diverted to me.

I leave the armory and head up to the helipad prepared by Heroism & Hope. From there, I boarded a helicopter like a real assault team member and headed toward my destination. They would drop me off on the building’s roof and leave.

The building’s interior structure was an office. It was a staged location. There were no actual employees; it was one of those places made to look like an office with drywall and partitions for urban warfare training.

The internal structure was already in my head. The cheap gypsum wall material was probably for staging purposes too. It’s ridiculous—mercenaries and professional operatives fighting in a broadcast set.

So essentially, walls were no obstacle for me. Being able to use unmanned cameras for assistance was also the same as usual. Giving them a “chance” was just talk; it was essentially H-Enter’s mockery.

Eight more unmanned cameras swarm around me. Unlike usual, they slowly scan my armed appearance before naturally turning toward the destination.

Today too, the cameras were hungry. Like baby birds showing their bright red mouths while chirping, they stared at me with lenses reflecting various colors.

Feeding them is always my job. The helicopter didn’t even land on the helipad but hovered about seven or eight meters high. I grip the carbine firmly to prevent it from shaking and jump down lightly.

I bend my knees minimally, relying almost entirely on my shock absorption capability to land. The transport drone follows me down, and the helicopter departs immediately. Now I’m isolated.

In the corner of my vision, H-Enter’s live broadcast shows the helicopter just now leaving the building. Even for a live broadcast, there’s some delay.

And when it switches to the real live camera… N-Enter mercenaries, no longer needing to hide their affiliation, are seen heading into the building. It was an unmanned camera hovering outside.

This was the real, undelayed feed that only Gardner, Ms. Serena, and Mr. Chris could see. Even if the N-Enter mercenaries couldn’t watch the actual live broadcast, they wouldn’t believe I had just departed.

The air is cold. The smell of dust is everywhere. Ms. Serena wasn’t the type of hero who smashed things during urban warfare; she was more the type who entered criminal hideouts with her team, so she probably never needed this.

I pass through offices that are just for show with no substance. The side of the transport drone controlled by Chance opens, and small reconnaissance drones emerge. Chance’s voice echoes in my head.

“Now we can proceed with modern operations. I’ll find them. Are you ready for engagement?”

I nod briefly. Night vision was not lacking. Even in the building interior without a single light, I had no trouble seeing ahead. Due to the short control range of the small drones, I need to move while checking.

From the building’s central axis, most of the interior space came within the drones’ control range. I could use the elevator shaft for vertical movement, but that was a method I’d used in early episodes.

Normally, creating a response program for virtual enemies would be incredibly difficult, but information about Gardner’s methods was openly available on streaming services.

Since I used voice stealing last time, instructions would have been given to only communicate via computational assistance this time. The feeling that what worked once won’t work twice wasn’t very reassuring.

I descend one floor via the stairs. It was still quiet. They were coming up from below, and I was going down from above, so there was still a buffer zone.

It remained quiet even one more floor down, but Chance warned me. His voice wasn’t urgent but was always clear enough to pay attention to.

“There was just interference in drone operation. Assessment: There seems to have been interference in the command signals for reconnaissance drones.”

Chance didn’t need to explain further. Interference in command signals strong enough to affect nearby drones meant I would be exposed to surveillance from this floor down. I quietly focus on my hearing.

I couldn’t hear breathing sounds or clothes rustling that humans would typically make. There’s no one on this floor. They’re just sending drones up for reconnaissance. What are these guys trying to find with their drones? My appearance?

No. My costume is basically matte black. In the middle of the night, in a completely dark building with surrounding lights blocked, it would be terribly difficult to find me. So it’s not my appearance.

What’s Gardner’s characteristic? Two high-frequency blades. Nothing is as distinctive as using those inefficient weapons. I draw a high-frequency tactical dagger from my waist. I place it diagonally on the floor and power it up.

As the blade begins to vibrate with its peculiar sound, Chance’s voice comes through again.

“It seems they were targeting the sound. Two reconnaissance drones are approaching your current position.”

High-frequency blades were only my main weapon when playing the role of Gardner, not now. I leave it vibrating with more power and move away. I wait for the reconnaissance drones from a distance.

Two drones approach the tactical dagger I left behind, and… nothing else. They couldn’t have brought many reconnaissance drones. They could probably smuggle in only two or three without arousing suspicion.

Still, I need to verify. Gardner must be perfect not just as a hero. He must show perfect efficiency in every aspect, at least on the surface.

‘Chance, can you check H-Enter regulations? How many drones with recording capabilities can be brought in?’

“Up to three if they’re not mercenaries employed by H-Enter.”

So there’s one more. Moving hastily would give me away. I scan the surroundings again. Found it. One reconnaissance drone was stuck right under an office chair, watching the elevator.

They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Is Gardner an old dog? Maybe. He seemed like a character who would never learn how to socialize. At least I’m not like that.

There are two entry points. Either enter the elevator in view of that drone, or take the stairs. I connect to a camera that can see the stairway entrance from outside.

A mercenary was standing at the stairway entrance, looking inside. Either way I’d be spotted, but going down there seemed like the worse choice.

At the elevator doors would be the reconnaissance specialist and the leader of the N-Enter mercenaries who was trying to figure out how to survive this. Eliminating just those two would be a significant advantage.

On the other hand, going down the stairs would mean killing the guard and then engaging the rest of the personnel in combat anyway. I choose the elevator. I take out a modular grenade and connect the detonator.

I deliberately show myself to the drone watching the elevator. After entering its field of view, I pass by and… ram into the elevator doors with my full weight. The impact was sufficient.

As I throw myself through the passage, I grab the elevator doors and brake. I stop in a position where I can’t be seen by the drone from the upper floor or when the doors open from the lower floor.

The elevator doors on the lower floor, which were slightly open for drone reconnaissance, are thrown wide open. They probably thought I would naturally fall right in front of them if I had jumped down sensibly.

This wasn’t shown in the previous broadcast. Only the aftermath was. I throw a fragmentation grenade through the open doors. It bounces once on the office floor. The second time it makes an almost rolling sound… and then an explosion rings out.

I brace against the elevator cables that shake violently. Even though it was just a palm-sized grenade, its lethality was not weak. The body armor could only protect against fragments.

The makeshift walls made of drywall were already shattered, and even in the darkness, I could easily tell that the office floor was slick with red and black fluids. There were only two corpses.

N-Enter seems to have bad luck with grenades. The first team was wiped out by grenades, and now the second team has suffered heavy casualties from grenades while trying to stop Gardner who entered their field of vision.

Still, this time it didn’t end with just one grenade. A pair of flash grenades tied together flies toward me. I lower my second eyelid for anti-flash protection and reduce my hearing sensitivity. I briefly feel the blast pressure and intense heat.

It wasn’t too severe. Even if held in hand when detonated, it would only cause skin peeling and burns on the palm. The heavy impact of the flash grenade was something I could easily withstand with my enhanced body’s performance.

An N-Enter mercenary came around the corner, hoping Gardner had been neutralized, making a futile wish. The distance was close, so I aimed directly at his head and pulled the trigger. The anti-powered armor round worked perfectly.

With a clean hole, his posture collapsed under inertia. A bullet fired randomly as his finger stiffened on the trigger grazed my helmet, but it was just a graze.

Now more mercenaries would pour in from both sides. I have no interest in being surrounded from front and back. I run in the direction the flash grenades came from. Another muzzle appeared at the corner.

I grab the muzzle with one hand and push it away. I thrust the carbine, held in just one hand, under the chin of the mercenary who owned that muzzle and pulled the trigger. The inside of his visor turned red.

I heard footsteps from behind as well. It would be better to move forward, neutralize everyone, and then deal with them. Using the mercenary’s body as a shield, I shoulder my weapon over his shoulder and advance.

Instead of wastefully spending bullets, a grenade comes flying. I wonder how they smuggled in explosives. I can even read the writing on the surface of the grenade spinning through the air. It’s also Belwether.

Gardner, armed with Belwether equipment, is fighting N-Enter mercenaries using Belwether equipment. Either way, it seems Belwether is the one profiting the most.

I catch and throw back the grenade that I spotted with vision sharp enough to read its specifications in this darkness. N-Enter definitely seems to have bad compatibility with grenades. Especially with the ones they throw themselves.