Ch.188Work Record #028 – Beautiful Enough to Dazzle the Eyes (4)

The fugitive we were tailing headed toward a row of private offices on the third floor of an office building. Ilbelly noticed him entering one office marked as “in use.”

Ilbelly’s vision flickered momentarily. He caught a glimpse inside the office. He might have seen a human figure. His voice came through the communication channel.

“Don’t approach, Boogeyman. Looks like this stupid Peshikov kid is trying to resurrect a technomancer. I saw the eyes of the one inside. They were completely empty.”

‘I didn’t expect him to come out directly. If he were crazy enough to plant homemade explosives in a place like this, he would have been caught long ago. Why shouldn’t I approach?’

Ilbelly, standing across the hallway, tapped his temple a few times. That’s where most computational assist device connection points are located. He meant hacking.

“He’ll try to infiltrate your system immediately, Boogeyman. You know how hard it is to trace back to secondary connection points even if you block the attack. A personal firewall is just a personal firewall after all.”

‘What I have isn’t just a personal firewall. If we let him in to attempt infiltration, we could trace it back. Should I try?’

On my HUD display, the shield-shaped logo with a woman’s head with snake hair was still visible. It was that military-grade information warfare AI I received from Mila.

“What the hell do you have in your head? No matter how expensive a hardware firewall is, all it can do is block attacks, Boogeyman. You should know that.”

‘It’s an information warfare semi-AI that detects abnormal access, traces connection points, and automatically retaliates against attackers. Not common, but I happened to acquire one.’

“Not common? Huh. Right, maybe I should take more walks in the wasteland too. If that’s not common, this lucky old man might pick up a few nuclear warheads. Are you sure about this?”

I nodded lightly and quietly walked down the corridor. With Small Evil aimed, I slowly opened the office door and entered. I pointed my gun at the back of the fugitive’s head as he handed over a box containing android parts.

I needed to pretend. I had to appear as if I was mistaking this soulless technomancer’s terminal for a human. I naturally took the box he was handing over first, then spoke.

“Humans who come to the Non-Human Liberation Front usually have a purpose. How fortunate that the person who stole and sold parts from there happens to be a wanted fugitive. I’m quite lucky, aren’t I?”

The technomancer’s terminal sitting at the desk looked up at me. I pretended not to care about those emotionless eyes staring at me, and soon a quiet voice was heard.

“If you’re here for the Liberation Front, we’re practically brothers. So is he. Won’t you let him go? If you’re just a mercenary here to catch an enemy of Bellwether…”

An abnormal short-range communication was detected. Aegis, who hadn’t uttered a single word until now, began outputting language. It demonstrated its capabilities.

“Abnormal access detected. Tracing back to attacker. Found attacker connected to the relay terminal. Bypassed firewall using Fitts & Morrison R&D electronic signature.”

“Send the attacker’s location through the communication channel and find a way to access their body control system. I’ll handle this, don’t worry about the relay terminal.”

The terminal standing before me completely froze. Not wanting gunshots and screams to echo through the office building, I kept my gun pressed against the back of the fugitive’s head while setting down the parts box.

With the gun still aimed at the back of his head, I lightly grabbed his neck. I applied more pressure than just choking. Sparks flew from the implants and bones began to crunch, making a cracking sound like when you stretch your neck too much.

My grip on the bulky object passed a critical point, and my thumb met my other fingers. A short crunching sound echoed. I threw the dead fugitive onto the office floor and listened to Aegis’s response.

“Learning new operating system. Learning in progress. Learning complete. Seized control of wired connection system to body substitutes through computational assist device. Increasing power input threefold.”

Aegis had apparently… caused a short circuit inside the technomancer’s body. The terminal, which had been momentarily frozen, suddenly began thrashing like a fish out of water. It couldn’t even scream.

The terminal raised its hand, made a motion as if stabbing something into the side of its head, then went limp. Aegis’s voice came through again.

“Wireless contact point destroyed. Drawing conclusions based on learned content. Target appears to have physically destroyed the communication module of the computational assist device.”

At least he wasn’t stupid or lacking in courage. Not many people would be brave enough to stab the side of their head with whatever was on the desk to destroy their computational assist device.

But it was enough. Aegis had already transmitted the location information. Ilbelly followed me in and examined the terminal—originally human but customized to the technomancer’s liking—and the fugitive’s corpse.

Seeing the fugitive’s completely crushed neck, Ilbelly briefly made an expression similar to when I first saw the bodies of security team casualties during university training. It didn’t last long.

Soon, Bellwether’s security team connected to the freelancer communication channel. Ilbelly spoke without trembling or stuttering, though he seemed somewhat shocked. It’s not a common sight.

“This is Ilbelly. Confirmed that Michael Peshikov, son of Alex Peshikov, modified corpses in the way technomancers used to. Transmitting Michael Peshikov’s location information now.”

“Special Operations Unit 1 on standby is departing. Any additional requests?”

“Send the Cleanup Department and Employee Welfare Department to the current location. The company should also prepare Welfare staff with over ten years of experience in restoring technomancer victims. That’s all.”

Ilbelly took a slow, deep breath and gave my back a heavy pat. His prosthetic hand was as solid as heavy armor.

“Damn, I… I can shoot people dead, but I can’t twist the life out of someone struggling to breathe with my bare hands. You did well. Handled it without noise or blood. You’ll make the report yourself.”

I feel guilt and horror from the bodies of employee-citizens. From the bodies of security team colleagues, I feel sacrifice, regret, guilt, and a horror that no words, honors, or accolades can cover. That’s natural.

Because people cannot become machines, and should not become machines. Technomancers see people as machines. That’s why they believe they can be revived if fixed. This fugitive was helping that technomancer.

So I didn’t feel much. I only felt a sense of duty that killing this fugitive shouldn’t disturb the lives of ordinary employee-citizens working in this office until this hour.

“Ruiner, Tinker. This is Boogeyman. Fugitive eliminated, and when a young technomancer tried to hack us, we counter-hacked, obtained location information, and handed it over to Bellwether. How’s the Liberation Front situation?”

“Secured it, and Tinker’s examining it now. Looks like Tinker was right. They were trying to infiltrate Bellwether somehow, but they drained the blood to keep it clean, which is the problem.”

Even through the noise-cancelled communication channel, I could clearly hear thumping sounds. Probably the android thrashing, but it shouldn’t be a major issue. The Tinker was wearing reinforced armor.

Now it’s time for Bellwether to foam at the mouth again. They’ll execute every gang and individual who dealt with the young technomancer, and every member of the Non-Human Liberation Front with even a hint of suspicion.

They did the same with Jaina. Despite some of Jaina’s members being employees of megacorporations, no company stopped Bellwether’s raging. This time, there wasn’t even that.

Only a child who admired a father who shouldn’t be admired, people who borrowed hands that shouldn’t be borrowed, and criminals who didn’t even think to check whose son their trading partner was would die.

It’s not a matter of refusing or not refusing—most megacorporations won’t even care. To live stupidly in this city, one must at least be good. It’s always been that way.

“Well, time for more shooting then. Bellwether will handle this internally, so our job is…”

“They’ll do the purging themselves and the combat themselves! Ugh, I don’t want to just get paid for detective work. Is there nothing for us to shoot? With Special Ops involved, maybe not… Really!”

Ruiner spoke in her elegant voice saying inelegant things again. Ilbelly responded in what sounded like a voice of contempt. He was the only one among us who had fought technomancers before.

“That guy just now caught Bellwether’s attention by causing enough trouble, but if he’s taking crazy contract requests to resurrect Bellwether employees, he’s probably made more than just one. You’ll get plenty of shooting, Ruiner.”

The most horrifying thing is… the people revived by technomancers are those who had no reason to have bullets in their bodies. Ordinary people living decent lives, entangled in such matters without any choice.

Disgust will rise. Still… the dead have no voice. It’s always us who speak on behalf of the dead. Those people have long since lost the ability to speak, feel emotions, or even think.

Killing them quickly and sending them to the welfare team would be the only answer. I try to understand. I’m not sure if I could understand even seeing it firsthand, but for now, I’ve accepted it.

The technomancer’s hideout was surprisingly within LA. It was inside a minimum security zone designated by Bellwether. That’s strange.

Bellwether’s minimum security included area surveillance. While it might be possible to move a bit by avoiding CCTV blind spots, a fugitive’s face would eventually be exposed.

If he had been using revived humans as terminals for all his activities to avoid detection… that’s something to be disgusted by in its own right. Ilbelly seemed quite troubled as well.

“I wonder how many terminals he’s made… Do you have a gun that can fire cookie cutters, Boogeyman?”

Cookie cutters were Bellwether’s special anti-reinforced armor ammunition. They were called cookie cutters because they could punch round holes in reinforced armor as if using a cookie cutter… difficult to access or purchase.

Even in Bellwether’s security team, only Shepherds or Special Ops commanders would use them, and besides them, only the Chairman’s security detail or Market Keepers would use such items. Not easy for freelancers to possess.

“No, sir. I’m still just a month-old freelancer. Since you mentioned facing technomancers before, it sounds like you want them for a merciful dispatch, but do you have extras?”

“No, man. Bellwether isn’t the kind of company that hands those out to freelancers. Still… somehow, I thought a guy like you would just pull them out of your pocket saying, ‘Cookie cutter rounds? Here you go.'”

He meant if I enjoyed performing miracles. I patted my thigh a few times as if showing empty pockets and shook my head.

“Unfortunately, no such magic this time. Let’s join the Special Ops team. They’ll finish the job soon, but they’ll still need people to handle the terminals.”

“Quick-thinking young man. Alright, I’ll say we’re supporting, partly to calm Ruiner’s temper. I want to see how well she shoots too. Grab your weapons and take the passenger seat. Never know where terminals might pop up.”

I nodded lightly, opened the sealed third-floor window, jumped out, and landed on the ground barely bending my knees. Behind me, Ilbelly landed with a heavy impact sound.

I took out body armor from under my bike seat, layered it inside my jacket, grabbed my carbine, and got into Ilbelly’s pickup truck. The inside was filled with family photos. His wife looked about the same age as him.

One photo showed Ilbelly with his wife and three children in front of a new house, even labeled “our happy home” with the address written on it. There were quite a few toys on the glove box too.

This wasn’t… a car used to take children to school. All the toys were intact. There were no signs of children touching them, and they all worked perfectly. The family photos seemed off somehow. Something unnatural about them.

And while there were many family photos, there weren’t many actual traces of children. Despite one child being very young, there was no sign that a child car seat had ever been installed in the vehicle.

The vehicle started moving. I asked Ilbelly, who had a shotgun placed where a drink holder should be. He looked like a laid-back older man but could instantly transform into a freelancer.

“They’re all fake, aren’t they?”

With one sentence, Ilbelly burst into laughter. Since the soundproof bulletproof windows were closed, he spoke freely.

“Sharp one, aren’t you? Yes, they’re all fake. There is a house at the address in the photos. A woman playing the role of my wife makes coordinated noises, lights turn on daily… a car arrives, but if you open the door?”

“It’s an isolated house with no neighbors nearby, so there might be explosives, or if not, turrets and security systems ready to shred anyone who thinks of targeting a freelancer’s family.”

“Ha! Really, you’re the kind of guy I’d hate to have as an enemy. This is why I listen to my employers. It’s the turrets. Even a fake house costs real credits, man. Can’t blow it up.”

Freelancers had to prepare for many “what ifs” and “just in case” scenarios. I mostly took jobs that involved hiding my identity, but if I continued this work, I might need to be as cautious as him someday.

That was for the future. After driving for a while, there were no more cars on the road. Bellwether had implemented traffic control. I could see the minimum security guarantee zone now designated as a containment zone.

As we approached the containment zone, the Mobile Division was controlling the area. Ilbelly connected with the Mobile Division and presented our freelancer licenses. The blocked road opened.

Ilbelly now put on his helmet. Under his shabby suit was a body that looked almost like a full-body prosthetic with just artificial skin applied. Even among full-body prosthetic users, everyone had different preferences.

I checked Small Evil again and pushed the carbine’s adjustment lever to single-shot mode before getting out of the car. Above the address I had reported through Aegis, a silent helicopter used only by the Special Operations Division was hovering.