Ch.172Work Record #025 – Winning and Losing at Coin Toss (5)

“Welcome to Coco’s Shop Play, Dr. Marshmallow! What brings you here today?”

With all the overwhelming issues lately like Operation Prometheus, should I be relieved that Jerome isn’t a methodical madman? I connect to Coco while hearing the familiar voice.

Well, Jerome could actually be categorized as a methodical madman several times over… but I don’t know. At least he wasn’t dangerous. He just happened to get tangled up in this situation.

Now somewhat accustomed to the process, I press the virtual “I’m here to buy” button and wait for Coco to read Jerome’s ID chip. After reading it completely, Coco activates her unique secondary security system.

“The ID checks out, but I have an additional question! Dr. Marshmallow is quick with calculations, so you’ll be able to solve this!”

I stop Jerome as he tries to explain the access guide. Being “quick with calculations” simply meant entering any number within five seconds.

A multiplication problem with two seventeen-digit numbers popped up in my field of vision, and I entered 7 as the answer. The virtual Coco on the screen smiled brightly.

“See! You’re super fast! You can come in, Dr. Marshmallow!”

Most of his transaction records were brain scans of deceased individuals, but this time was different. What he purchased was… information about Belwether’s crime evidence disposal site.

Then it must have been Jack who scanned my brain. Since then, I hadn’t lost my memory long enough to be brain-scanned, nor had I been exposed to any major crimes.

“Jerome, you must have gone to get this yourself… Check if you found anything besides the storage device containing the brain scans. Like a letter or recorded message.”

“What? No, all I received was the time and input chute for the waste disposal facility, so I retrieved it with a drone… The storage device was somewhat damaged too.”

That must be why Arthur-2 doesn’t properly remember his childhood. I browse through the other information Jerome purchased. The name of the user who sold this information was almost identical. I had some idea who it might be.

It’s quite a bold guess, but… it must be NFD Corp. The Los Angeles branch, where the Shepherd still serves as acting branch director, would have ample reason to sell the identities of the deceased if they decided on a purge.

Additionally, although the username wasn’t Bear Detective, that user’s transactions stopped right after Nightscape wiped out NFD Corp. It would be good to check Bear Detective ID’s previous transaction list.

So why is Jerome still alive and breathing in front of me? I looked the man in his early thirties up and down before asking. I decided to believe he was better than I thought.

“You’ve been dancing on a knife’s edge, Jerome. But with the people who sold you information already dealt with… you’re still perfectly fine. After reviving them with brain scans, what do you do next?”

“Oh? Well, I let them rest for a few days to adjust to their new bodies, and then I really just let them go? I may be good at cultivating human bodies, but I can’t run surveillance systems…”

“So you’re saying you just let them walk out the door, Jerome. Please.”

“Of course I help them recover their identities. I do this out of personal preference, and I want to maintain a long, low profile, so I just say they happened to come back…”

Jerome was essentially the one who informed on NFD Corp. Stephanet or the Los Angeles branch would certainly verify the identities of those who came back to life, and who disposed of them would be obvious.

If Jerome truly was a minor madman who selflessly released the people he revived and only hoped to occasionally run into them in downtown LA… then nothing about Jerome would have been revealed.

If the real information leaker was NFD Corp… they fell victim to a variable they couldn’t account for. They probably never imagined someone like Jerome existed. A headache washes over me.

This city shows no mercy to stupid and bad people. Smart and bad humans try to control their bad parts, putting them on leashes to extract efficiency, while stupid and good humans… are simply ignored.

They neither extend a helping hand nor particularly oppress them. If a person produces sufficient efficiency while working at a company, they receive absolutely no attention. That’s how Jerome survived.

I didn’t doubt that Jerome did exactly what he told me. While reason and nature can be capricious, madness is consistent. That’s why that consistency is called madness.

I never thought I’d say to Jerome what I said to Mr. Günter. Perhaps Arthur-2 really was… born by chance, without any meaning or purpose.

That point was laughably human. In this high-speed era, being born with a purpose was limited to things like Farmers Corp’s water-purifying plankton, deliberately manufactured to clean the Pacific.

Our lives have no meaning. That’s why various idols tempt us, promising warmth and safety beneath them. But no matter how much we bow to idols, the meaninglessness remains unchanged.

That’s why we must find it ourselves. We must create ideals, not idols. My ideal is pleasure. Ms. Eve’s ideal is goodness and freedom. All were things we determined for ourselves to some extent.

No, they were things we determined entirely for ourselves. One could make countless rebuttals—that we were influenced by others, by education—but because we decided otherwise, they were entirely our own choices.

After briefly looking at Arthur-2, I bring up Coco’s Shop Play screen again in my field of vision. I press the virtual button labeled “Talk to Coco” in the corner and wait for Coco’s profile to appear.

It doesn’t take long. Soon, an artificial intelligence with a young girl’s face greets me with an energetic voice. Regardless of how much I like children, I can’t say anything nice to Coco.

“Good morning, Dr. Marshmallow! You’re up super early in the morning, is that because you’re a doctor? What can I do for you? I’ll help if I can!”

I call for an administrator to this code bundle that speaks like a child and might actually have that level of intelligence. My purpose is clear.

“I’d like to talk to Coco’s father, is that possible? There was something dangerous among the items sold in the shop.”

“Dangerous like a knife?”

“More dangerous than a knife. A knife is safe if you hold the handle, but this will cut someone’s hand no matter how you hold it. Could you tell him I want to handle this quietly?”

After Coco’s energetic response, a communication link with an anonymous person is established. I ask the voice—which I believed would be on the other end of this communication channel—even with voice modulation.

I create a preset using Jerome’s voice that I’ve been recording since entering his home and answer with his voice. If the other party doesn’t want to reveal anything, neither will I.

“Dr. Marshmallow, or should I say Jerome Solverson. It was our rule at Coco’s Shop Play not to ask about the source of items, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to report to Panacea Meditech.”

How did Jerome speak? I stutter a bit. And his voice is full of excuses, constantly trying to escape. Just as Arthur-2 acted outside the door, I acted inside.

“H-how did you know my name… No, th-that’s, the item I bought this time is really dangerous, that’s why I contacted you! If you report this, even Coco will be in danger. Really. Please believe me just this once.”

Jerome looked a bit more frightened seeing not just his voice but his manner of speaking, eloquence, and everything else naturally flowing from my mouth.

The anonymous party treated Jerome, or whoever they believed they were talking to, dismissively. I had to wait until they dismissed it as nonsense.

“Coco won’t be in any danger. The ones who sold information to Jerome were purged, but Coco is fine, isn’t she? Whatever this information is, it doesn’t matter. It will be business as usual.”

“B-but… th-this time it’s really not…”

“Don’t be so frustrating, Jerome Solverson. Even if Coco gets involved, those stupid megacorporations will just go around in circles trying to find something in the city that isn’t in the city.”

Trying to find something in the city that isn’t in the city. I’ve received enough reward for imitating Jerome’s indecisive voice. I still used Jerome’s voice but stopped being indecisive.

“It’s in the wasteland, isn’t it? Those stupid megacorporations have abandoned factories or bunkers in the wasteland that they built and then abandoned due to cost issues, with hideouts in the basements. Isn’t that right?”

“Trying to pretend you’re smart, Jerome? No matter how dangerous that item is, the megacorporations won’t send forces to the wasteland to dig through dirt. Especially since I’ve taken control of this building’s system.”

This must be bluster. The security of a research facility abandoned by megacorporations wouldn’t be lax enough for a single black market owner, programmer, and somewhat of a hacker to access and control.

“Is that so? What if that item…”

I turn off the preset. I show the operator of Coco’s Shop Play that the person they’ve been talking to isn’t Jerome Solverson.

“What if it contained a brain scan of the miracle child that Panacea Meditech would die for? Even if it’s the brain scan of when the miracle child died, who somehow came back to life, would they still do nothing?”

“You’re not Jerome Solverson? Who are you?”

“I have a question too, and I could tell Panacea Meditech about the information leaked through Coco’s Shop Play right now, so I’ll ask first. Who sold it?”

He had already revealed that he knew the identities of people behind Coco’s thin mask when he threatened Jerome. His voice became tense and flustered.

He didn’t cut off communication. Though he bluffed about “stupid bastards,” this was definitely a losing battle for him if megacorporations got involved. It was time for compromise.

“No arrests. That would break the trust in Coco’s Shop Play. If you promise the seller won’t be arrested, I can give you a tip.”

As I answered, I threw out bait. He still seemed to believe that deals would work, so I needed to play with him once more to break his will.

“Improvising, I see. Not bad. Alright, I’ll listen to the information. You better tell me properly…”

“Ha, this fucking Fitts & Morrison bastard can’t break his speech habits. A Fitts & Morrison employee selling to Panace…”

I cut him off as he took the bait and cut off my words. I caught him properly. Now I had to push back. I needed to make a stronger move next.

“You seem quite desperate. If I say I expect maximum efficiency now, I guess I’m a Belwether-Fitts & Morrison double agent. Should I talk about food and become a triple agent? Negotiation failed, Coco.”

I cut off the communication entirely. As Jerome opened his mouth wide enough to fit two fists, I tapped my fingers on his cultivation lab desk, somewhat impatient myself, and waited.

It was time for bluffing. After tapping the desk seven times, Coco’s Shop Play operator reconnected. I declined. He tried again. I accepted.

“I’ll give you the seller’s information. In return, I want to make sure Coco’s Shop Play doesn’t get involved. There won’t be any lies. Even without my guarantee, if I lie, you’ll call Panacea.”

Now he seemed to have lost all will to resist. Jerome sat down in front of me, rubbing his chest. Now it was time to show mercy. The strategy is tit for tat.

“Fine, Coco’s Shop Play won’t be involved. The seller will commit suicide. Out of fear that megacorporations are after them. Information.”

“I’ll send it through Coco. All I want to protect is Coco’s Shop Play. It will be perfect information, so I’ll trust that you’ll keep your promise.”

He waited until I ended the communication. When I did, Coco sent me a crudely drawn picture.

There’s no malware. It was literally an image file… showing what looked like a child’s drawing. Probably how Coco sees herself.

It showed her setting up a crude plastic shop, checking ID cards she had roughly drawn… but the resolution was strange. Too high for such a drawing.

I zoom in on the ID card that Coco is holding in the picture. Something vague appears in the image on the ID card. A real ID card and identity information. It was very meticulously prepared.

The real name, address, and as much identity information as he could gather were neatly organized. It’s better if the information provider has some degree of obsessiveness.

The seller was a hacker hiding in a large apartment on the outskirts of Los Angeles, built during a slum redevelopment attempt but now abandoned as an eyesore.

The computational assist device’s performance was average, but the tools they primarily used were noted as fairly decent. They were standard physical hacking tools.

The type that infiltrates externally networked computational assist devices and through them disables or attacks implants connected to the body via wires.

They’ll interrogate and then shoot them dead, but it’s better to be cautious. I showed the identity information to Arthur-2 as well. Fortunately, the body implants weren’t that impressive. Killing them won’t be a problem.

I passed the information to Ms. Eve and Mila who followed us in. I also turned to Jerome, who seemed to want to ask what he should do. I asked leisurely.

“I found the person who stole the scan, Jerome. You can back out now if you want. You should probably get ready for work soon and take care of your appearance. About your preferences… I won’t comment.”

But Jerome said something unexpected. A person’s humanity has little to do with unusual sexual preferences. Perhaps that’s obvious.

“Um, is there anything I can help with? Usually I help with identity recovery and such, but the second Arthur can’t get an identity now, and I feel like I should help in any way I can…”

“A car would be nice. Preferably one with armor plating.”

“Oh, yes. I have three cars and one motorcycle. If all five of us are going, we can take the SUV. I can use a personal day, and for self-defense, I know how to use a handgun…”

I patted Jerome’s shoulder lightly again, but this time not to frighten him. I had no intention of giving a civilian a gun and bringing them to the scene.

“Forget self-defense training or whatever. If you promise to raise all the armor plates when we arrive and keep your head between your knees in the driver’s seat, I might consider it.”

Jerome nodded, and I gained a useful person who could call for megacorporation security teams if variables arose in this hastily decided operation.

This was a time-sensitive operation, so we needed to use everything available. Even Jerome, whom I’d met just fifteen minutes ago, was no exception. The clone incident would be resolved within a day.