Ch.148Work Record #020 – Hating with Unparalleled Hatred

The next morning, the Nationalists’ council… no. I couldn’t remain ignorant about the Nationalists forever. The Nationalist Parliament initiated a massive audit of the Federal Rehabilitation Support Bureau.

Until now, the Federal Rehabilitation Support Bureau had merely been restraining itself, but reinforcements to the Renegades were now completely cut off. Those within Nationalist territory would be rounded up one after another.

I hope the Nationalists give them what they deserve. I’ll certainly give the Renegades what they deserve. I drape the sniper veil over my helmet for the morning shoot.

There weren’t many reasons why I despised the Renegades. It’s the same reason Ms. Serena can’t leave the paparazzi alone. The very fact that they exist somewhere is disgusting.

It was as disgusting as the fact that Walter was still alive. I respect the Shepherd who somehow endured despite crumbling under responsibility. I also respect Mr. Günter who gave me an opportunity.

I understood well enough that not everyone in the world could be an iron-willed person like Mr. Günter. I also knew that not everyone could be strong enough to shoulder responsibilities and endure like the Shepherd or Ms. Serena.

But the Renegades, far from attempting to solve anything, far from taking responsibility, far from quietly fleeing, were targeting Mr. Chris and Ms. Serena who knew their shameful secrets. That’s what I found disgusting.

If they had the ability, if they could receive that level of support, they should have tried to preserve the city somehow as soon as Detroit began to fall apart. If they failed, they should have at least decided the city’s fate.

Human dregs who abandoned resistance, gave up trying, and now merely parasitize a name to justify themselves as the only remaining guardians of nationalism. I wasn’t even ashamed to despise and hate them.

They were still sending a few Renegades into downtown Detroit, but the frequency was gradually decreasing. They had realized they needed to keep enough for their own survival.

On the twelfth day since Gardner arrived in the city, they didn’t show up at all. It was one of those rare peaceful days when criminals were mowed down by machine guns and Renegades were strangled to death by their karma.

Since Polaris left, the number of Renegades had been decreasing, reducing the action scenes in the Callsign Gardner series, but people didn’t complain much. Because they knew.

Like the marshmallow experiment, if they enjoyed this dryness with a little patience, a big chunk of meat awaited them. Meat so full of juices and so appetizing that it made their mouths water already.

Today again, I… Gardner teaches Chris—or more precisely, Lobringer—how to use the high-frequency blade, and then returns to the familiar penthouse by walking the streets as Lieutenant Ryland used to do.

It wasn’t what I wanted. It was a script written for the production of hope. After arriving at the penthouse and getting on the elevator, Chris tapped his foot as if feeling restless and said:

“Ms. Serena should have seen people’s expressions too… It’s such a shame only we saw it. Maybe we should have recorded it?”

I kept my mouth shut until we were completely in the no-filming zone. This was a place that wasn’t recorded. A place where Arthur Murphy could exist.

“You probably saw it through unmanned cameras… Instead of being satisfied with watching like this, you should hold a proper inauguration ceremony after I’m gone. Don’t you think?”

Chris, who had become quite comfortable with me now, smiled pleasantly. It was quite enjoyable to see that the person who had been falling apart was now nowhere to be found.

“True. I can’t borrow a punk backup character’s hand forever. But, won’t you switch careers? I think you’d do quite well if you did it full-time! No lip service!”

“Detroit is quite cold. Los Angeles is a city where temperatures rise to 15 or 20 degrees even in the middle of winter, right?”

The cold wasn’t really the problem, but I joked anyway. I had never felt cold. Chris let out a light laugh.

“Liar. But… that’s fine. I’m going to set up alerts for your name from today. When I see news articles, it’ll feel like watching the Gardner series, right?”

“Ah, that’s unlikely. I’m not the type of person who usually works with my name exposed. Even in this city, the people who know my name can be counted on one hand.”

“But that handful consists of Detroit’s finest people. And you’re one of those finest in Detroit. All those people have expectations for you. Need any help?”

The passionate hatred for the Renegades was shared by all field workers in this city. Ms. Serena had said she felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility, but amusingly, I declined that offer too.

“No, I’m fine. Not because it’s something I have to do… but in a slasher film that needs to be straightforward, if there are too many killers, it just gets cluttered and boring.”

“Ssip. That’s too on point. So I just need to prepare snacks and drinks with Serena, put it on a big screen, and just watch? Give good ratings?”

I naturally smiled and nodded. After a light farewell, I entered my room. I picked up the camouflage suit I had received from the closet some time ago.

It’s an optical camouflage suit made of displays. I change into it wearing only Gardner’s inner lining. Unlike Gardner who wore a veil to distinguish the head, this shows only a human silhouette.

I inject power once to activate it. The displays attached to my body reflect the opposite side one by one. My appearance blurs, and soon the silhouette disappears completely. Almost no refraction or volume is felt.

Normally there would be sound, but when shock-absorbing material is combined with a shock-absorbing enhanced body, it becomes eerily quiet. Even when I ran lightly, there was no sound at all.

One of the only problems is that footprints remain on soft surfaces like carpets. If even one of the Renegades discovered this, things could get quite troublesome.

An even bigger problem was that I was too strong. If I charged or punched with all my might, that part of the suit would be damaged.

Controlling my strength is important, and I need to use weapons. Since I was already transparent and movement was fine, it wasn’t a big issue… but this city always presents a new problem whenever one is solved.

Fortunately, I’ve never disliked application problems. Even at this level, there was no major issue with sticking to walls or hanging from ceilings. I take off the suit with satisfaction. It should rest for a while.

I unlock the computational assistant device that I had set to “do not disturb” until now. And there were three communication requests… and one message from a familiar name. Noah Verami.

After failing to connect three times without even a minute’s interval, he left a message asking me to contact him when I could. Without nodding my head, I connect the communication.

Nodding was an action—or rather, a performance—to show that Gardner was connecting with someone. It was closer to staging than an actual action.

“Ah, Mr. Arthur! I’m sorry for contacting you repeatedly when you’re busy. From our perspective, the only people we can call connections are my uncle’s friends and you…”

“No need to apologize. Please be comfortable. I’m on a business trip now so I probably can’t help with work… but I’ve finished my shift, so I have time to spare.”

His voice sounds somewhat urgent. He was quite anxious, and perhaps on the verge of an anxiety explosion. Noah, who barely controlled his trembling breath with a deep inhale, continued:

“My Uncle Simon went to Fitts & Morrison to make an information disclosure request as he did every year, but he hasn’t returned… for days now. So, I’m wondering if something might have happened…”

Noah was just the president of an ordinary mercenary staffing company, not a freelancer or a partner company. The title “president” was just for show; he was an ordinary mercenary. He would have no way to inquire at Fitts & Morrison.

“Still, Mr. Arthur worked with Fitts & Morrison before, and you’re a freelancer. I was wondering if you could look into it more… If those bastards have done something to my uncle…”

“I’ll help, so calm down first. Look, even Fitts & Morrison doesn’t randomly kill requestors. I’ll contact them, so please wait a moment. Just a moment. Okay?”

I hope Noah doesn’t do anything stupid. As before, he was an impulsive young mercenary. He often suddenly became sharp, as if suffering from trauma.

I end the communication with him. If Noah does something stupid, he’ll end up dead for the same reason as his mother, regardless of the cause. Though I wasn’t familiar with the word “mother,” that still seemed wrong.

I send a communication request to Mr. James, the security team leader at Fitts & Morrison’s Los Angeles branch. I thought it would come back in an hour or two, but the response came back in just a few minutes. His voice was unwavering.

“It’s Talos, freelancer. What’s the matter… … Haa, I see. Yes. Simon Verami is currently being detained by Fitts & Morrison. That’s what you were hoping to hear, right?”

He remembered that I had asked about Noah Verami before. I was somewhat relieved by the word “detention,” but detention wasn’t a common occurrence either.

“Is the reason classified as red?”

“No, green. I can disclose that he caused a disturbance in the company. We didn’t want to harm him, but he tried to draw a gun, so we had to use some force to subdue him. He’s alive and well.”

“There must have been something for it to be detention. I’m not asking about that reason, as you know.”

Mr. James made a sound as if trying to gather what he could tell me. He continued slowly:

“I can’t tell you the reason. I can’t tell you the circumstances either. But one thing I can tell you is… there was permission. For Simon Verami. Talk to Noah Verami about what that means.”

There was permission. Noah Verami said that Simon had gone to Fitts & Morrison to make an information disclosure request. “There was permission” probably refers to that.

Putting things in natural order, Simon found out about his sister’s death, then caused a disturbance because of it and was detained.

If that wasn’t the case, Mr. James wouldn’t have mentioned permission in the first place. Can I trust this? Simon was a person of interest to Fitts & Morrison. There weren’t many reasons to kill him and lie about it.

Rather, if they had killed him, it would have been more typical to simply say, “He was shot dead while trying to cause a disturbance in the company.” There were no inconsistencies. And one more thing… this was detention again.

Typically, causing a disturbance in the company would result in being shot dead, but they ended with detention twice. Why is Fitts & Morrison exercising patience? Is it not something worth getting angry about?

Red information is basically one of two things: confidential or shameful. It must be a small shame. A small boil that would become a bigger issue if dealt with. So they showed a small kindness.

I decide to trust it. I reconnect with Noah and send him the detention record I requested from Fitts & Morrison. Noah seemed to think the record alone might not be enough.

“This, this isn’t an old record, is it? From when Uncle Simon heard about mom’s death. I wonder if they just changed the date…”

“You can check it yourself. If you say you’re family, they’ll let you verify. Go check it yourself. No matter how much you dislike Fitts & Morrison, don’t get lost in that dislike. That’s how you make the right judgment.”

Despite giving him an immediate solution, despite currently making efforts as he requested, his response was like a retort. A voice dripping with hatred is not pleasant to hear.

“Do you think, Mr. Arthur, that you could so easily look straight at the person who killed someone closest to you? I can’t do that. So…”

Have I been too empathetic? The sight of someone who only worries and distrusts without taking any action was not enjoyable.

“That’s why I told you how to check it yourself, Noah. Don’t bare your teeth and growl at your allies at the slightest provocation.”

There was no sound of a beast howling in Noah’s voice. It was human. Too human. Perhaps. After keeping his mouth shut for a moment as if displeased, Noah’s voice continued:

“I’ll… check it out. Thank you for your help.”

After that, the communication was cut off. There were plenty of concerns in Los Angeles too. More than enough. For now, the biggest immediate threat seemed to be Noah Verami.

When you don’t act when you should, don’t trust when you should, and can’t squeeze out a friendly voice when you need to force one, everything becomes complicated.

What’s being forcibly suppressed could burst at any time. Simon was old enough, but Noah isn’t. I raise the risk level of Noah Verami, whom I had registered as a person of interest, by one level.

To end up like this during a brief rest period. I idly tap the edge of the desk with my fingertips… and that day ended. Noah Verami just needed to go back and check. For now, the priority was the Renegades.

What should have ended pleasantly with the slaughter of the Renegades I hated with unmatched hatred had become unnecessarily complicated because of Noah’s story about hating Fitts & Morrison with unmatched hatred.

No. What became complicated was my mood. Not the job. The job remained the same. I just needed to wear the optical camouflage suit and slaughter the Renegades. I access the virtual reality training program after a long time.

There was no need to review swordsmanship again. I wouldn’t be carrying a sword in the first place. Instead, I enter a different part of the program: combat with everyday items. Originally, my body was the strongest, but not right now.

I practice drawing the tactical dagger from my waist and slashing throats, and slowly refine the movements I’ll need to make in the final episode, like drawing a rifle from my hand that was casually draped and firing it in reverse.

I confirm how much force to apply so the camera doesn’t break, and repeat hand-to-hand subduing techniques I learned from the Nationalist manual. I repeat for eight hours.

Even until dawn, the city was flashing with advertisements saying “Callsign Gardner, Final Episode Soon.” Originally, Gardner stood alone with his back turned, holding two swords in the darkness, but not anymore.

Gardner stands between Ryland Winters and Serena Vanderbilt. Ryland pats Gardner’s back as he walks pulling the Smogpiercer, and Ms. Serena holds up her pierced arm like in a highlight scene.

Perhaps Polaris’s whispered words about being an amazing person were true. Even if not, for tomorrow alone, I had to act as that amazing person. The final episode approaches. The sun rises.