Ch.202031 Work Record – High-Value Asset (3)

Once I decided to take on the job, the rest of the process was simple. All I needed to do was review the fake contract I had received in advance with President Yoon.

The weather outside was fantastic. Dense smog filled the city so thickly that visibility was less than one meter—I couldn’t even see my feet while standing. I packed extra portable gas masks.

Actually, since he had helped me once, it might have been better to handle things without borrowing his hand a second time, but I was still just a regular employee at Yakyung. It would be better to consult with the president.

If I didn’t like that, I could quit the company. And I had no intention of leaving Yakyung. I also had no interest in using freelance contracts received outside the company to disrupt the power dynamics within.

The morning after receiving the job offer from the Nationalists, I headed straight to Yakyung Inc. with Arthur-2 and Ms. Eve, who had only returned at dawn. It felt like it had been a while.

As a freelancer, I only needed to neglect company work during field assignments. Going forward… I thought I might need to come in more often for training, like I used to. After this field assignment was over, of course.

Today, President Yoon had arrived early again, and Enzo was calculating the fees owed to Belwether in the office that I’d only ever seen used for briefings. All the necessary people were present.

Once again, I announced my field assignment, and once again, I lied smoothly. I watched the two of them reading the contract, and when they seemed to be almost finished, I spoke up. I just needed to explain naturally.

“You know that Canun Company I’ve been close with? I was helping clean up after their president’s mistake when I made a connection with New World Communications. I think they reviewed my work records and sent this.”

That was my only connection to New World Communications. And with my natural exaggeration, neither President Yoon nor Enzo seemed particularly suspicious in their responses.

“Ha. First it was VIP security, and now it’s security and assassination—they’re assigning you all kinds of dangerous work. Dangerous jobs always go to capable people, I suppose.”

“B-but… New World Communi-cations is… a Nationalist affiliated company… isn’t it? I think this might conflict with your career on the Belwether side…”

This was the kind of doubt I had anticipated. And it had already been addressed—not by me, but by the Nationalist agent who had given me the job. The content of the job itself was part of that preparation.

“I thought so too, but the side I’m helping wants to continue providing services regardless of whether they’re Nationalists or Corpocrats. So I thought it would be fine.”

If this fake job were real and I succeeded, emergency call services would continue to be provided to Corpocrat-owned cities as well. If I failed, they would withdraw from Corpocrat territories.

Then Belwether and other megacorporations would have to provide different emergency services, creating unnecessary expenses. This job was efficient even from Belwether’s perspective.

“I-if that’s the case, I have nothing to add… I just meant to say be careful. They are still under Na-Nationalist control after all… If you need anything, anytime…”

“I’ll have to believe in the cash magician’s magic. Can you drop supplies even into Nationalist territory?”

“I can’t say ‘anywhere’ with confidence. But if you contact me in advance and give me enough time… I could say ‘anywhere’.”

There was a reason he was the most trustworthy person after President Yoon. Since something might happen at Madeline’s Lot, it would be better to secure an escape route as soon as I started the job.

Getting permission from the company wasn’t particularly difficult. By the time I finished speaking, Arthur-2 was already collecting various items from Ms. Eve. Tourniquets and hemostatic spray.

She was already wearing strength-assist devices on both arms—who knows where she got them—and a helmet with a HUD, probably to compensate for lack of visual modifications. Had she been taking on contracts continuously?

If so, her frequent absences and constant exhaustion made sense. The fact that she was definitely me was also clear. She was diligently preparing for independence.

In every other way she looked exactly like me, but her reaction to Ms. Eve cupping her cheeks firmly with her palms—waving her arms to shake off the touch—was unlike me.

That behavior resembled Ms. Eve more than me. She was full of wariness, like when I first met her. After thoroughly teasing Arthur-2, Ms. Eve approached me with energetic steps.

“She’s totally you. More precisely… she’s completely you, but such an inexperienced version that it’s fun to interact with her. When I’m with you, you’re skilled at everything, making me follow behind you, but she’s so inexperienced.”

“Oh. Don’t you think you’re being too natural with Arthur-2? I believe you once said jealousy was your way of expressing affection. They say people grow to resemble those they love.”

“I think I also said that being the object of jealousy feels like being loved, which makes me happy. And you know this isn’t romantic, Arthur.”

“I was just joking since it’s obvious you treat her like a little sister. I should go see my client soon… What about you, Ms. Eve?”

She held up a submachine gun—now more familiar in her hands than a rifle—while lightly tapping the medical bag at her waist.

“I’m Yakyung’s medic today, as always. Go protect the world well, my freelancer. My Arthur. Yes.”

Only I seemed to notice how Mila—or more precisely, Prometheus—flinched at her playful words about protecting the world. I responded playfully to her teasing words.

“I don’t know how many times the world needs to borrow my hands. I’ll be back soon, my Eve. Would it be too much if I called you my one and only Eve?”

“Why? I boldly call you my one and only Arthur. It’s not like you to still care about someone who helped you forget, Arthur.”

We kissed at least outside the office. I would have said it was perfect if we hadn’t run into Kay, who had been coming to work early since she no longer had reason to stay cooped up at home.

After ruffling Kay’s hair while she gave me an openly mocking expression, I left the office building. I put on my gas mask again to enter the acrid smog that filled the city like wildfire smoke.

I didn’t really need to wear it, but I didn’t want to smell of smog when meeting my client. Even though my body didn’t retain odors, basic courtesy was still basic courtesy.

I headed to the KSC in front of the Farmers Corporation headquarters, which was starting its lunch sale. Entering the building, I removed my gas mask and stood in front of the sign where the mascot character spread its arms in a T-shape, and I spread my arms as well.

After washing off the smog in the air shower, I went in and naturally ordered the most famous burger at KSC, which supposedly masked the taste of synthetic food as much as possible. That was true, in a way.

It definitely had less fishy smell compared to other synthetic foods, but… a Posthuman Type IV had discerning, sophisticated taste buds. Even from that burger, I could detect a subtle fishy taste.

Next time, I should suggest meeting at a mapo tofu chain. Tofu, originally made from soybeans, had no fishy taste and was good to eat. I scanned the crowded interior once, identifying suspicious people.

A couple was sitting at the second-floor interior terrace seats—the best spot for surveying the restaurant. They could be my contacts. I hadn’t been told the contact would be just one person. I looked for normalcy.

Given the time, it was natural for people to leave the seats across from them empty for others to join, but there was one man who had rudely filled the seat across from him with an equipment bag.

His seat, while not as good as the couple’s, still offered a view of most of the restaurant and was positioned right under a CCTV camera—in its blind spot. He also had a pistol concealed in his jacket.

That was typical Nationalist behavior. Even a no-name freelance mercenary openly carried a gun on their hip in this city. There was almost no reason to hide a weapon.

I took my tray—containing a burger without flour, fries without potatoes, and a cup of synthetic drink—and headed to the second floor where the man was sitting. Standing in front of his table, I said:

“May I join you? It’s a busy time, and you could put your equipment bag on the floor. And…”

I continued in a lowered voice, maintaining a calm smile on my face.

“You can stop giving me hints. It’s quite funny to see an agent in Los Angeles hiding a gun like that.”

The man quietly moved his equipment bag. I sat down across from him and unwrapped my burger as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A subtle fishy taste rose up, but it wasn’t too bad.

“Langley won’t be complaining about wasting money, I see. Call me Eli. First, let me ask: when can you start moving?”

“I just transmitted the contract on my way here, and I can move right now, this very moment. I’d like to hear at least a brief overview of how the operation will proceed.”

“I’ll give you the file, but even though we’ve chosen a high-value asset that’s easy to infiltrate, someone who lived here until yesterday can’t become a citizen there by this morning. There will be some basic training.”

What I’ve been doing so far has been quite instinctive. Now it might become more systematic. I shouldn’t forget that instinctive sense, but I need to systematize it.

“That works for me. I’ll need to avoid detection for at least a week or longer. What about the identity I’ll use at the work location?”

“We’ll create that after seeing the training situation. You’d better check the file for details.”

They didn’t choose me because I was perfect. They chose me because there was no better option. This approach felt more natural. Chance didn’t raise any objections either.

“Sounds good. Let’s move right away. I think I can naturally make my way to the Charleston branch of New World Communications that’s mentioned in my assignment.”

“Ah, yes. I was going to tell you about that—when you get to the Charleston branch, you’ll be handed over to another agent there. Here’s the operation file. My job ends here.”

He transmitted a file to me via short-range communication. At least I wouldn’t lack reading material on the plane. I took the last bite of my burger and cleared the plastic tray.

We kept our goodbyes simple. We parted casually, like people who had shared a table and made small talk, and I got on my bike. Chance started moving the bike toward home.

Aegis opened the security-checked file first, and I examined the documents inside. The operation was codenamed “Skinwalker”—which was also my callsign.

I quickly scanned the detailed operation schedule. I would fly to West Virginia, Nationalist territory, and then head to the New World Communications branch there.

Since it was Nationalist land without Corpocrat surveillance, I could move freely. Through the New World Communications branch, I would move to a Nationalist facility.

There, I would receive training for a week, or up to two weeks if necessary, before moving to Madeline’s Lot. I would infiltrate the corrupt local police force of Madeline’s Lot as a rookie officer.

My job was simple. By whatever means necessary, I needed to find the whistleblower without being detected, then deal with everyone connected to Madeline’s Lot and The Old Way Company. They said they would extract me afterward, but I didn’t believe that.

I couldn’t ask Enzo to prepare an escape route near Madeline’s Lot right now. Nationalist agents would currently be monitoring Madeline’s Lot, making it impossible.

So… during the operation, it would be better to create a security threat significant enough to force the Nationalists to commit their surveillance personnel. I could ask for deployment during that window.

I packed the necessary items for the job and headed to Los Angeles Airport again. During my first field assignment, I received all kinds of farewells, but this time I only got one from Ms. Eve.

I had no regrets since I received it from the most important person. After arriving at the airport—its outline barely visible through the smog—I entered through the entrance guarded by reinforced suits.

This time, I decided to be polite. As soon as I entered, I turned on my computational assist device to display a HUD in my vision and called for a Pathfinder employee. I didn’t have to wait even a minute before I heard an employee walking toward me.

It was a different person from last time, but the distinctive purple suit of Pathfinder was the same. The employee bowed slightly in greeting and looked at me with a bright, customer service smile.

“We find the path and build the legs to walk it. Thank you for using Pathfinder Logistics today, Certified Freelancer. May I have your job information needed for ticketing?”

So this is what their customer service is normally like. I provided just enough of the fake job information they requested. Soon, an electronic ticket was transmitted to my mind.

“New World Communications—isn’t that the company with all the talk about management disputes? If a Certified Freelancer is going all the way to a Nationalist-owned city, it must be a big job.”

She spoke quite thoughtfully, but it wasn’t difficult to recognize that she wasn’t showing interest in my work but rather making small talk to ease the atmosphere.

“That’s right. Freelancers are only called when it’s a big job, or when the word ‘big’ seems small in comparison. I’ll just bring my pistol on board and ship the rest of my weapons.”

The process was similar this time too. On the way to the VIP lounge, I met Pathfinder’s in-flight security officer and was told there would be one more Nationalist in-flight security officer I didn’t know.

This route was half owned by the Corpocrats, but the other half followed the rules of the Nationalist destination. It was half and half—not like two different colored waters mixed, but like oil and water.

Being assigned to a first-class seat on the earliest departing flight wasn’t much different this time either. Having flown first class both times in my life, I felt like I might be developing bad habits.