Ch.186Work Record #028 – Beautiful Enough to Dazzle the Eyes (2)

After running for a while, I arrive near the Beeinyeon. The drone launched by Tinker is nearby. As I approach the location he shared, I see a freelancer about my height standing there in full combat gear.

Though not fully enclosed, he’s wearing reinforced armor with a thick helmet that has only a visor opening for visibility. Looking at my casual attire, he speaks with an incredulous voice.

“Called directly by Belwether for a job, yet you’re dressed like you’re going on a picnic, Boogeyman.”

In response to his words, I display a virtual screen showing a business card for Hamilton’s Private Investigation Office—the card of the Beeinyeon detective who had sought me out to find the Transparent Eye.

“Dressed like this, my job will be as easy as a picnic. There’s a limit to what information you can gather through external surveillance. I’m going inside.”

“Going inside? Just…”

“I’ll just show the business card, say I’m looking for this person, sit at the coffee table waiting for the receptionist to call the card’s owner, then talk about the Transparent Eye while looking around inside.”

Tinker lets out a disbelieving chuckle. He looks me up and down, then nods.

“I suppose casual clothes are better for such antics. It’s been a while since I’ve met a freelancer trying to finish a job without the smell of lead and gunpowder, Boogeyman.”

“Then let’s collaborate more often so you won’t have to say ‘it’s been a while,’ Tinker. I’d like to ask you to compile information while I’m inside… Any external surveillance data yet?”

A virtual screen appears in my vision. It seems to be a vlog recorded by a Beeinyeon activist—propaganda suggesting that the Non-Human Liberation Front is more rational than people think.

That itself isn’t important. The live broadcast was uploaded to the net an hour ago, and the total length was nearly an hour and a half. Calculating the time, it was almost at the time of death.

I track the video as it fast-forwards. I quickly scan the internal structure. Another virtual screen appears in my vision—a floor plan of the building. I trace possible movement paths while looking at the structure.

If there had been any entry or exit, it would have been caught on this camera. However, none of the people entering or leaving the Beeinyeon were carrying bags or boxes large enough to contain a corpse.

“At first glance, I don’t see anything, but since the brain is what matters, it wouldn’t be that bulky. So the people who appeared at 47:36 and 1:01:17 are also suspects.”

Brain scanning equipment isn’t that common. Only megacorporation intelligence teams, those sponsored by them, or people with certain guarantees could possess functioning ones.

The ones used by Beeinyeon or on the black market risked damaging the gray matter so severely that they were essentially single-use. Belwether wouldn’t use a copier that damages the original data.

“That’s true. So, what are you going to check inside?”

“The only reason Beeinyeon would run brain scans is for terrorism—though they’d call it ‘activism.’ I’ll pretend to be interested in what they do, ask to see their activity records, and check it out.”

“Clean plan. Request fire support if you identify the perpetrator. I’ll compile information from open sources and external surveillance, not just what comes from Belwether.”

Inside, I should call them the Non-Human Liberation Front, not Beeinyeon. “Beeinyeon” or “Non-Human Rights Organization Union” are terms used by Belwether.

I don’t fully understand why they’re so fixated on terminology, but what matters is whether they consider word choice important or not.

“Sounds good, Tinker. What about Il-Belli and Ruiner?”

“The Bazaar operator is good at running black markets but knows shit about making UIs, so it’ll take longer. Seriously. Is it that hard to make search settings persist when you hit the back button?”

“Ha! Coco is at least better in that regard. I looked into it—there are only dealers who’ve been trading ten or twenty brains at a time from the beginning. I’ll track that further. We can cross-reference with the results from your infiltration of the Beeinyeon headquarters.”

“Good. Don’t get too fixated on the Non-Human Liberation Front. I’ll head in now.”

There was no grand departure ceremony. I naturally got back on my bike, rode around the corner, parked in front of the Non-Human Liberation Front branch building, and dismounted. I walked in.

No one cares that I’ve entered. With my freelancer license set to private, I’ll just look like an ordinary mercenary. My face isn’t even that well-known.

If it were known, it would be in a way the Beeinyeon would appreciate—for subduing a Beeinyeon terrorist attempting a bombing and working for the sake of androids living normal lives.

I arrive at the reception desk and push a virtual screen toward them. The receptionist tilts their head slightly after checking the Hamilton’s Private Investigation Office business card. I speak naturally.

“Could you contact that detective for me? I have something to discuss about work. Just tell them I’d like to help find the Transparent Eye.”

The receptionist tilts their head somewhat suspiciously. It’s like Stephanet’s coffee talk protocol. I have a natural response ready.

“Hmm. Usually when a non-android shows interest in the Transparent Eye, it’s often out of concern for potential danger. Honestly, we’ve had more than a few mercenaries try to infiltrate that way.”

“I was influenced by what I saw from the Transparent Eye skeptics. After watching them take hostages, die alongside them by gunfire, then shout ‘See, even Belwether security couldn’t distinguish between humans and us!’…”

The receptionist shakes their head with disgust, somewhat awkwardly. Their emotion module isn’t that sophisticated, but they speak well.

“Disgusting, isn’t it? Those skeptics who can’t think of living together, only dying together.”

“Exactly. That’s why the Transparent Eye seems like a much better option. That’s why I thought I’d help someone looking for it. To be honest… I don’t believe in it the way you all do.”

I deliberately reveal my thoughts naturally, smiling awkwardly and waving my hands lightly. The receptionist actually trusts my attitude more because of this. The conversation continues naturally.

“If a human had said ‘The Transparent Eye is the only answer!’ I would have been suspicious. That’s what we want—finding the best alternative. I’ll contact them for you.”

This is the Beeinyeon’s security vulnerability. They’re naive, whether it’s the receptionist or anyone else. A few skilled lies can naturally get you access permission.

I hadn’t been waiting long in the lobby café when the android detective walked in through the main entrance. I waved lightly, and they approached and sat across from me.

“If remembering people’s names is one of a detective’s virtues… I’m quite an excellent detective, Arthur. Since I store it in memory, I won’t forget unless I delete it. Ah, what I heard in the communication…”

“It’s exactly as I said. I didn’t originally view the obsession with the Transparent Eye positively, but after seeing what the anti-Eye faction does, this side seems like the better alternative. I’d also like to see your activities, if that’s alright?”

“A better alternative…”

I spoke as if I didn’t know that extremists exist everywhere. The detective seemed a bit uncomfortable, but this was an opportunity, not a crisis. They clapped their hands once lightly.

“Certainly, we’re at least trying to improve ourselves more than those anti-Eye guys. They just… you know. They only rebel without creating anything.”

“That’s what I felt when dealing with them for work. I’d like to believe that, at least compared to the whole of Beeinyeon… I’m not sure if I should use this word, but they’re just a fringe sect.”

I genuinely felt like laughing. It was a moment when I was uttering such a ridiculous phrase as “fringe sect” with my own mouth. The detective continued, somewhat relieved.

“Well, before I tell you what’s needed to pursue the Transparent Eye, would you like to look around first? You know. We get a lot of misunderstandings.”

They don’t trust me enough yet to share critical information. It doesn’t matter. My purpose itself is precisely to “look around.” I stand up and head deeper into the building with them.

I didn’t deliberately turn my head to look around, but I could feel eyes on me. Someone was watching from the corridor leading to the back of the building. I connected only the voice module to speak to Tinker.

‘I think someone’s watching from behind. Could you check if they’re in Belwether’s database, Tinker? The infiltration is going well.’

A small surveillance drone attached like a bug to the window frame captures footage of an area I can’t easily turn to check. Soon, Tinker’s voice returns.

“Just an ordinary Beeinyeon activist, Boogeyman. They want to become human, but when a real human shows up, they get suspicious. Funny, isn’t it?”

It’s better to know for certain than to harbor unnecessary suspicions. The Beeinyeon detective, unaware of my thoughts, begins speaking.

“Ah, this is our activity records room. Records of those… fringe sects you mentioned are also kept here, mostly for reflection purposes. Mostly.”

We move deeper inside where Tinker’s drones can’t easily provide support, entering the internal records room. Despite being called a records room, it’s more like a storage area filled with all kinds of junk.

Still, pretending to be interested, I touch a holographic banner and power it up. Even the slogans written on it were inane.

I believe androids, and even regular AI, can certainly become human. What makes me dislike the Beeinyeon is precisely this inanity.

The inanity of failing to cut off the arm that needs cutting—lumping terrorists together with genuinely peaceful activists in one category—and the inanity of believing they need to prove something.

I don’t mind that they believe they need the Transparent Eye to become human, despite already being sufficiently human. They’ve simply misinterpreted the Transparent Eye program.

It was somewhat ironic, but not bad, that this misinterpretation-born fanaticism was actually preventing the Beeinyeon from becoming a completely misguided terrorist organization.

As I slowly browse through the activity records, I find what I came for—the brain scanning device Ruiner mentioned. It was helmet-shaped, designed to be worn on a living head. I hold it lightly and capture the view.

I power it up to check the usage records, but the detective approaches with a rather flustered expression and takes the helmet from my hands, putting it back in place. Their voice breaks several times.

“That’s… uh, hah. It was used by the anti-Eye faction. Using technology that could serve good purposes for such pathetic acts… Come this way. I have something to show you.”

“I was wondering why such a thing would be in a space mostly populated by androids, but if it’s those guys, that makes sense. What did you want to show me?”

I briefly put on an interested expression, but I wasn’t particularly curious. I had already powered it up, connected, and checked before they took it from my hands, so I spoke through the communication channel.

‘I found a crude brain scanner inside, but the last usage record is from four months ago. It seems the anti-Eye faction was the last to use it. I’ll look for more. There’s no internal informant here.’

I increase the performance of my computational assist device. Soon I begin to hear both Tinker and the detective speaking simultaneously. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable—no different from dealing with Chance and Vola at the same time.

“Ah. This is it. When the anti-Eye faction wasn’t acting so wildly, Belwether permitted a rally in downtown Los Angeles, but these days… the acting branch manager is quite strict.”

“Seems like we might have wasted a trip based on Ruiner’s tip. What will you do, Boogeyman? We’ve already wasted time, but Ruiner and Il-Belli are still investigating, so spending more time wouldn’t hurt.”

The Shepherd was certainly a strict person—strict even with himself, to the point of being held back by the deaths of ordinary employees. He wouldn’t permit a quasi-terrorist organization like the Beeinyeon.

“Indeed. I’m quite curious when the new branch manager will be decided. I heard the current one used to be the security team leader?”

‘Between the internal personnel being on guard and the fact that there aren’t many suspects besides the Beeinyeon, I’ll dig a bit more before leaving.’

When speaking two things simultaneously, it’s better to ask questions than make ordinary statements. If I can briefly summarize the other person’s response to my question, I don’t need to pay extra attention.

I listen a bit more about the Beeinyeon’s activities. Surprisingly, they were investing quite a bit in productive activities—mostly supporting papers arguing that there’s little difference in cognitive abilities between androids and humans.

It wasn’t the act itself that was human, but the intention behind it—the human-like desire for recognition, intoxicated by the need to be acknowledged by someone better than themselves.

In reality, they aren’t particularly superior beings. People as thoughtful as Chance were hard to find, and people who could have hope like Prometheus… no, Mila, had already mostly disappeared.

While we’re looking around the records room, the door opens. Someone flings the door open and enters. They flinch slightly upon realizing there are people inside.

“What? Why in the storage room…?”

Hearing this, the detective sighs. What looked like junk to me was a history of activities to the detective. I could understand their confusion.

I capture the face that immediately entered my view. He called this place a storage room. He’s not affiliated with the Beeinyeon. If he’s not affiliated with the Beeinyeon, he’s a suspect.

Before the detective could speak, I spoke instead. Simultaneously, I transmitted the photo to Tinker.

“This isn’t a storage room but an activity records room. What are you looking for? I’m not sure if you’re looking for activity records in a storage room, or something trivial in an activity records room.”

‘I sent the photo. Please check his face. He’s wandering freely inside the Beeinyeon building but isn’t affiliated with them. If he’s confused enough to mix up the activity records room and storage, that’s pretty definitive.’

“No. That’s, no. Android parts…”

I never refer to my hand as a human hand. Imagining Vola referring to his parts as modified parts is simply laughable.

He’s definitely not an android. Yet, he needs android parts. In my head, I heard Tinker’s voice. It was certainty.

“He’s wanted by Belwether, Boogeyman. Kill authorization has been issued, so you can eliminate him, but you know how to catch the big fish, right?”

‘Since he seems to have come just to collect parts, let’s attach a surveillance drone and let him go. Belwether would appreciate extracting efficiency before killing him.’