Ch.199030th Work Record – Superior Human Party (4)

The inside of the party venue looked almost identical to when I had teased Vola. In spaces embodying Farmers’ philosophy, there’s always green. One wall of this party venue was filled with a vertical garden.

You could call it wasteful. Farmers doesn’t care if you say they’re hiding greenery only in places frequented by elites and corporate aristocrats. Farmers simply had to spend money on green in some form or another.

Organizations easily forget what they don’t spend money on. They must keep spending. And while spending, they must find slightly better methods than before. Most organizations are the same. That’s precisely the gap to exploit.

When I’ve earned enough trust and can voice my opinions, suggesting more efficient ways to spend money would be my most promising roll of the dice. I should remember this.

In front of that vertical garden, Morgan hesitates momentarily, as if unsure how to begin. What a Panacea MediTech person would say to a Belwether freelancer was predictable.

“Ah, really… I don’t know how many times I’ve said this, but it’s truly fortunate to meet a miracle child at a party like this. You know that Panacea MediTech is always on the side of miracle children, right?”

“And now you’re wondering how to elegantly say ‘Please be friendlier with Panacea MediTech than with Belwether.’ May I give you my answer first?”

This time I was rather direct. Belwether didn’t constantly refer to us as returned children. I was just an ordinary Belwether employee, nothing more, nothing less.

Panacea MediTech people are generally good, but that’s precisely why they believe they always know what’s right. Good character often gives rise to bad character.

She hesitated but eventually nodded. She was good enough to admit she’d been read by one of the miracle children she thought needed protection.

“I guess I wasn’t hiding it well enough. But… yes, that’s my purpose. And rather than lecturing a grown adult as if they were a child, wouldn’t it be better to have a conversation?”

She puts down her champagne glass, preparing to listen to me. She leans against the railing in front of the vertical garden, looking at me. I like Belwether. I like Panacea MediTech too.

But between the two companies lies an unbridgeable gap. Mutants. Neomorphs. Descendants of weapons from the war era. No, simply people with disabilities. It repeats.

They used the same language but couldn’t communicate. I hoped it wouldn’t be that way. As far as I could imagine, no company could better serve as a replacement for Hollowwood Creek than Panacea MediTech.

Ultimately, this is for my own pleasure. I don’t want to hide from Hollowwood Creek. I wanted to buy a house with Eve on the decontaminated Los Angeles beach. So Hollowwood Creek must not exist.

I didn’t want awkward conversations lingering between us. So Hollowwood Creek must be eradicated. I prefer mundane retirement hobbies over a lifelong holy war with Hollowwood Creek.

Every pleasure and desire led to the conclusion that Hollowwood Creek must be eliminated. I won’t deceive by claiming no personal feelings. I won’t even make excuses about serving a greater cause.

Ruminating on all this, a path began to emerge. What Panacea MediTech wanted from miracle children started to shimmer before my eyes. Their desires weren’t excessive.

They simply wanted us to grow up to be good people, at least by their standards. That’s why they were genuinely happy, and that’s why they wished we wouldn’t associate with Belwether.

“I know that Panacea MediTech doesn’t expect anything extraordinary from us. Rather, you want something very simple and basic. For us to live happily as good adults. Right?”

She nodded briefly. The joy people feel when someone they thought of as a child understands their heart is immense. Now she might be willing to discuss Belwether.

“But the good person Panacea MediTech envisions isn’t someone who simply picks up the good and pushes away the bad, making selective choices, is it?”

The term “selective choices” wasn’t bad, but it didn’t sound particularly positive either. I chose my words carefully and continued slowly. I couldn’t give her time to respond.

“Most of us are already Belwether insiders, and even I, who left Belwether… though you were reluctant to mention it, am a Belwether-certified freelancer. The worst thing we could do is avoid it.”

We were already insiders. And Belwether wasn’t an organization that rejected change and pursued only stability. Belwether followed just one thing: efficiency. Only the supreme and beautiful efficiency.

“Belwether follows efficiency, not mutant oppression. That means things regarding mutants can certainly change. Yet you’re hoping we’ll disconnect and run away without even trying to change things.”

No. She didn’t want us to disconnect and run away. But since I said it this way, she would consider whether she was truly imposing such expectations on returned children. Because she’s a good person.

Now that I’ve created a reason for her to listen, I just need to make her listen. Conveniently, she was a team leader. A perfect position for networking. But she could certainly filter out nonsense.

“So the reason I live as a Belwether insider is simple. I need to be inside to fix things. Shouting ‘stop discriminating against mutants’ from outside is an attack, but from inside, what is it?”

Initially, disliking Belwether might have been based on serious reflection, but serious reflection quickly becomes prejudice and bias. I suspected she’d gone through the same process, and it seemed true.

Since I didn’t hear her response, I continued. Everything rots and decays. Will, ideology, hatred, and everything else rot and stink if neglected.

“If from inside, I say that mutant hunting hinders the company’s efficiency, and argue that not hunting is more efficient, that’s optimization. Something Belwether wouldn’t object to.”

Megacorporations are greedy. Megacorporations prioritize the company above all else. That’s why they can change. If it can be proven, they can change.

No, in Belwether’s case, proof might not even be necessary. I knew Belwether’s tyrant. If I could prove it to him, not much else might be needed.

And I trusted Gunter as much as I distrusted him. He called his family the last people he could love. Mutants were born after them.

Human life has continued since before the war, but mutants never existed before the war. Perhaps he was also responsible for creating the inefficiency of mutant hatred.

Morgan, who had been quietly listening, raised her head slightly to look at my expression. I’d said something she’d heard many times. I still didn’t know exactly what it meant.

“You shouldn’t say such nice things with such frightening eyes. I feel like… a terribly stupid person. Wanting miracle children to become adults while still treating them as children.”

“The good thing about people is that they can always improve, right? I believe Panacea MediTech people are good people. And I certainly think the same of you, Team Leader.”

She laughed briefly. With a pleasant smile, she nodded as if it were necessary. She was indeed a good person. I almost felt like I was using her.

“I still don’t understand why Belwether certified Arthur, but I can see why Heroism & Hope did. So, what do you need?”

Heroism and hope. Making everyone believe they can be heroes and creating pioneers to show them the way. Does it suit me? I couldn’t be sure.

“What I need is… to earn Panacea MediTech’s trust as well. If there’s something that would make Panacea MediTech recommend a freelancer license, please call me. Any city, not just LA.”

“Although I’m not the HR team leader… I could tip off the HR team leader looking for the right person. Of course, before that… it’s customary. What can you bring to our company, Arthur?”

Proof isn’t unpleasant. It’s rather refreshing. Because I spoke well. Looking at her, I spoke confidently. My voice was full of certainty.

“I could make Belwether a market for Panacea MediTech. Panacea MediTech still regrets missing out on the huge meat that is Belwether, right?”

She didn’t take this statement seriously. Since she was the one who called it customary, it was only natural. A pleasant giggle was heard.

“Even if it’s customary… hmm, no. I like your confidence. It would be ideal if it really happened.”

I wondered what expression she would make when she realized this wasn’t just a display of confidence but a serious statement.

The meat of the whale called god would surely be sweet. Like when I first tasted real beef instead of synthetic food, the taste wrapping around my tongue would feel almost sweet. It makes my mouth water.

Morgan, who had been quietly looking at my face, took a step closer. She lightly placed her fingers on my suit, brushed it upward, and sighed deeply.

“To think I never considered meeting face-to-face until you became an adult who doesn’t need his suit adjusted. Yet you’ve become such an admirable person. I feel… bittersweet.”

“All Panacea MediTech people probably think the same. Robin, the manager who cultivated me, feels the same way.”

“In that sense, I envy Robin. Just because she was a field practitioner, these wonderful children treat her like a mother. May I say a few more words?”

I nodded lightly. She looked up at me and spoke.

“In this high-speed era, not many people dream. Don’t just have dreams yourself and make people enthusiastic; become someone who shares those dreams and can be loved. Understand?”

I wasn’t someone with grand dreams. I simply did what needed to be done and what I could do. Still, I decided to listen to sincere advice. It might be useful someday.

People want to be guided while also wanting to move forward on their own. Making them forget they’re being guided is what makes them enthusiastic, and being loved means… what does it mean?

Eve comes to mind first. She didn’t want me to help her. Rather, she tried to prevent her past from causing harm. Yet I helped her. Why?

Because I wanted to help. The reason is simple. Just… trivial things. It was enjoyable to see her stern, cold demeanor melt away. After seeing her awkward, shrinking inner self, I wanted to reach out.

This aligns with what Chairman Paul Lipman said. In this high-speed era, someone who wants to leave something behind must be able to gain love and loyalty from people they’ve just met. Such charisma was necessary.

I made no distinction between good and evil. No distinction between lies and truth. I just used what was needed when needed. Obsessing over one thing is truly evil.

So this advice is good. It showed me a way other than making people enthusiastic and following me. The superior human party was worth attending.

“By the time I understand what that means, I’ll probably have already become such a person. I’ll try.”

“You answer so well too. That’s nice. Let’s stop the serious talk and continue enjoying the party, shall we?”

I’m not sure if there’s anything to enjoy. The superior human supremacists, like Vola, had gathered around Talos to see the almost perfectly crafted cyborg body, so I could only exchange brief greetings.

Outside the party venue, protesters had gathered. I thought they might be Zaina, but… surprisingly, they weren’t. Nationalists were protesting. Not against the party.

They were demanding that the federal government permit full-body cyberization, even for medical purposes. They seemed to have come to the superior human party where attention would be focused. I had no intention of mocking these desperate people.

If I were to mock anyone, it would be the federal government. In an era where you could simply replace your body if you had an incurable disease, they wouldn’t allow it, forcing people to protest like this. It was absurd.

As I watched them, a mercenary wearing a Fitz & Morrison enhancement suit, garishly decorated in red and gold, approached me. After a brief salute, he said:

“I’m Jamie Chang from Red Dragon, called by Fitz & Morrison for external security of the party venue. Is it noisy inside the party too?”

“I’m Arthur Murphy, Belwether-certified freelancer. No, I just came out thinking Zaina might have followed the superior human party… but they’re not Zaina.”

The mercenary, with his finger on the trigger guard, looking at the protesters, nodded briefly.

“These nationalist guys, what’s with full-body cyberization? They barely even use artificial bodies. That’s who’s protesting… they’re not bad people. I’ve met them once or twice.”

“If you say so, there’s nothing to worry about. Keep up the good work.”

“Hope nothing happens. If something does, the freelancers inside the party venue will be the first to work, right? Go back inside! The Dragon protects its treasure to the end!”

After hearing him conclude with the company slogan, I returned his greeting with the Belwether headquarters’ three-finger salute and headed back into the party venue. I’d already gained enough from the people I’d met so far.

Around lunchtime, along with the meal, some startups held technology demonstrations inside the party venue. It seems they were previewing before proper exhibitions, showing off to the high-ranking attendees.

If they caught the eye of megacorporations at such events, startups could aim for the tremendous life-changing opportunity of becoming a subsidiary of a megacorporation, so these people were quite desperate.

Indeed, the superior human party was an aristocratic place. It was truly aristocratic in the sense that it gathered people who were doing everything they could.

Perhaps it could be called the second-best holiday. The first place always belongs to Eve.