Ch.222Work Record 032 – Ripples (1)

I didn’t miss the clear air of Madeline’s Lot. It was a place where only the air was clear. The only thing that bothered me… was that Amaya would be devastated.

Judging by the press release, Deputy Sheriff Matt Collins would ultimately be reported as killed by terrorists, which meant the person I had sent to help more people was essentially dead.

There was no way to let her know I was alive. Even this current peace was only possible because I had directly confronted Jeff’s superiors, and fortunately, one of them had handled the matter appropriately.

My smog-covered hometown begins to appear outside the window. I arrive in Los Angeles, hoping to leave the affairs of Madeline’s Lot behind. The humid air greets me.

At noon in early February, 18 degrees would be normal, but both Charleston and Madeline’s Lot were nearly fifteen degrees colder, so I couldn’t help but feel it was muggy.

Adapting to returning home from a place you’ve grown accustomed to requires just as much adjustment as adapting to a foreign place. I complete the formalities by scanning my freelancer license.

But then, a Pathfinder company employee waiting in the airport lobby greets me quite politely… and says something a Pathfinder Logistics employee wouldn’t say.

“We’ve recharged and washed your bike that was in long-term parking after hearing about your departure, Freelancer. And Eli sends his regards.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have taken this job. Now it seemed like everywhere I went would look like a scene from a spy movie. Following her out, my bike was waiting.

“Send my regards to Jeff too. Tell him next time we meet, he should just pay me directly in an empty auditorium and finish with some meaningless commendation.”

After properly turning on my computational assist device for the first time in a while, I get on my bike. I connect Chance to the bike, turn on my freelancer license, and check its contents again.

Now three companies had certified my independent contractor rights. Belwether, Heroism & Hope, and now New World Communications—three in total.

Perhaps because of this, as soon as I changed my status from the red-lit “On Assignment” to the green-lit “Online,” two communication requests came in. These were unexpected.

Before more requests come in, I change my status from “Online” to “Resting” and connect to the incoming communications. I enjoy helping others when something happens, but that would have to wait until after I’d gotten some rest.

“Lord, I’m glad you’re a freelancer who answers quickly. First, are you available to work?”

“Ah… it seems urgent, but I’m sorry. I just finished a job and arrived after several hours of flying, so I was trying to change my status to ‘Resting’ or ‘Do Not Disturb,’ but it only registered as ‘Online’…”

The connection cuts off as if there was nothing more to hear. For something urgent, hanging up without cursing was at least a polite response. I connect to the next communication.

“This is Arthur Murphy, Belwether-certified freelancer. I just finished a job and have only just returned to LA, so I won’t be able to take on any emergency work. Is this an emergency situation?”

“No, it’s not an emergency. I just saw that a freelancer certified by three companies had an opening and wondered if I could make a reservation… Do you accept reservation requests?”

A reservation request… an awkward term. Most requests came to me as soon as something happened. If I had known in advance that something would happen, I would have handled it first, of course.

Yet the fact that they called it a reservation was quite interesting. After debating whether to be honest or polite, I decided on honesty. It’s better not to hide anything.

“I don’t quite understand why you’d know about a job that requires a freelancer and wait until it happens, but… I should at least hear you out. I’m not in a position to be picky about jobs.”

“That’s true. But this is something that can be reserved. First… I’m Stephen Rom, section chief of General Affairs Team 1 at Panacea MediTech. Now you probably understand why I contacted you urgently.”

I seem to have been suspicious for nothing. There was no need to completely drop my guard, but there were more than enough reasons to reduce it by half.

“I personally prefer the term ‘returned child’ as it’s more intuitive… but right now, I guess I’m the miracle child. Looks like I’m about to become a nepotism beneficiary, even though we don’t share a drop of blood.”

“Not a drop of blood in any of our children is made by anyone but us. Anyway, the General Affairs team is planning a major collaboration with the entertainment industry, and we need a bodyguard.”

Panacea MediTech seemed to be trying to expand their customer base. Just contracting with G-Entertainment, where real blood and flesh fly in daily battles, would be a significant revenue source for them.

Even beyond G-Entertainment, the entertainment industry was constantly waging wars with assassins, so there would be more than enough opportunities for MediTech to get involved. They had targeted the market well.

And the need for a bodyguard… I could guess what it meant. Someone was coming to Los Angeles in person. I naturally asked Section Chief Stephen:

“Panacea MediTech must have quite a few mercenary companies as partners. And since MediTech literally saves lives, those mercenary companies must be quite loyal.”

If someone could save you with a single injection when you’re bleeding out and can only feel your jaw trembling when you try to speak, any mercenary would become loyal to them.

“As you said, we have many loyal and capable mercenary companies, but you know. We need to match the level. Only a freelancer certified by three companies would be at the appropriate level…”

So I’ve reached the point where people consider my level when talking about me. I’m somewhat curious about who would be considered my equal, but… I couldn’t ask without taking the job.

At least with bodyguard work, I wouldn’t need to shoot and kill a hundred and thirty people in one night and then vanish. The workplace would also be Los Angeles.

Could there be a better job for a freelancer who had resolved to rest? I thought about it briefly but couldn’t think of anything.

“How long do you expect the event to last?”

It was a positive response. It meant I would take the job if the schedule worked, and he replied with a somewhat relieved expression.

“We plan to hold it in mid-March. I’ll send you the exact schedule separately, and the yellow-marked sections indicate when the VIP you’ll be guarding will be present.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, a virtual screen is transmitted to my view. It was a schedule with the text neatly redacted to be unreadable. The schedule ran from March 14th to March 19th.

It was more than a month away… by then, the security team would have completed their regular hiring, and new graduates from training schools would have finished their employee orientation, so mercenary companies would have less work.

“The schedule looks good. You should have contacted me earlier. I would have handled a Panacea MediTech job properly.”

“When we were planning the event, you weren’t even a freelancer yet. So, if you accept, I’ll send you the contract.”

I seem to have forgotten how rapidly my career has been rising. Suppressing a wry smile, I answered:

“Of course. If I can cruise down easy street with a job from Panacea MediTech, who are like parents to me, I’d welcome it.”

Since returning to Los Angeles, everything is starting to feel more real. I finally began to understand what it meant to be a freelancer certified by three megacorporations.

Just by setting my status to online in the freelancer network, job offers pour in two at a time, and contrary to my overall lack of ability, I had become someone who “matches the level” for others.

I receive the contract. After the brief interruption from the sudden contact, I send a communication request to the person I had originally intended to call. It connects almost without delay, as usual.

“What kind of job keeps you from contacting me for three whole weeks? I bet they threw you into some dangerous situation because you’re a freelancer, didn’t they?”

The voice of someone who always gets angry on my behalf is a joy to hear. Without trying to hold back my emerging smile, I answered:

“It’s nothing like that, so don’t worry. It was related to a succession of management rights with lots of spies and intrigue, so the security protocols were stricter for easily bribable mercenaries. I came back fine, didn’t I?”

“That’s the problem, my irresponsibly sturdy Arthur. You come out fine even after experiencing terrible things. If someone put a gun to your forehead and pulled the trigger, you’d still say ‘It was nothing,’ wouldn’t you?”

“Considering how much someone cried when I told the truth last time, isn’t this the natural response? Especially for my responsible and overly worried Eve?”

Now… to be precise, that is… since rescuing Pastor Bill Weber from Hollow Creek… Well, to be even more precise, since the day I embraced her, I stopped using honorifics with her.

“W-what… you’re making it hard for me to speak.”

The slightly stammering speech and the embarrassed sound of her biting her teeth made me want to tease her more. Perhaps I couldn’t help it.

“You give me too much to talk about. From choosing the wrong beer… to your inexperience with noise cancellation features, there’s a lot, isn’t there?”

“Ugh… Arthur, you need to create some embarrassing life moment for me too. The sooner the better. Really. Right now. I won’t say anything even if you do it now.”

“I could create several if I had the chance, but unfortunately, it seems I don’t have the opportunity? Oh, can I stop by home before coming over?”

Finally, even Los Angeles’s air begins to feel like Los Angeles’s air. Eve’s answer was a long silence followed by a brief:

“…Yes.”

I wasn’t young enough to misunderstand the meaning of that answer. Though I wasn’t sure if I had ever been young in the first place.

Now that I was back in Los Angeles, I needed to sort out the things I had missed due to the urgent job I had taken. After meeting Eve, that is.

Jimon would have been released from his weeks of detention by now, so I needed to visit Kanun Sa again, and there were plenty of other things to do. Still, I could sort through them one by one.

I return home after a very long time. As soon as I open the door, the smell of gun cleaning oil wafts through, and Arthur-2 is sitting in the living room inspecting a rifle. It was clearly not a Belwether model.

It had the Belwether company logo attached, but it wasn’t just a Fitts & Morrison attachment—she had properly customized the weapon to her taste using a modification kit. She gives me a slight nod.

“Long time no see, Arthur. At this rate, the homeowner might change?”

Where Arthur-2 nodded, there was a weapon rack attached to the living room wall that she used separately. I hadn’t gone so far as to hammer nails into a rented house, but her occupied space had definitely grown.

Not just the space she occupied, but also the proportion of modifications. Instead of the strength-assist device she used to wear, she now had a full prosthetic arm from hand to shoulder. Incredulous, I asked:

“I thought someone said they could earn enough money to get their body recultivated on their own, Arthur.”

Arthur-2 rolled her eyes and sighed. She spoke somewhat grumblingly. Her emotional expressions were definitely clearer than mine.

“I juuust got introduced to a good place by Volla. If you fill yourself with implants anyway, it doesn’t really matter what your body looks like to achieve efficiency, right? Besides, it makes namesakes into same-faces.”

It was somewhat logical, but… if she had just cultivated a new body, she would have transferred to it by now. I crouched lightly in front of her as she wiped the carbon residue from her fingers.

The size difference was stark. She was on the smaller side. As if telling me not to look at her strangely, she flexed her prosthetic arm and reached out, which I gently caught. I smiled at her.

“We’re quite adaptable, Arthur. Aren’t we? I adapted to night shift work so quickly that I gave up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and live as a regular employee on night shift, and you…”

Arthur-2 shouted in denial, her face turning bright red. That part was a bit like Eve. The fact that she tried to kick when both her hands were caught was not a similarity, though.

I easily avoided it by just pulling my head back, and now she tried to pull me with her hands, which had become strong enough to put up a fight, and kick me again. This time I neatly dodged to the side.

It wasn’t just a joke I had thrown out. Originally, she had short hair when first cultivated, but now the back of her hair had grown quite long. There were also signs that she had trimmed it properly.

“Phew. Now I finally feel like I’m back to normal life. Getting involved in a management rights dispute was such hard work that I needed something to make me feel like I’d returned to everyday life.”

Arthur-2, whose face was still red, shouted. I roughly tousled her hair, which looked like it might growl, and she tried to shake off my hand, but she had never reinforced her neck.

“Why are you using me as your stress reliever! Since you’re my original, you’re also somewhat me, you know?”

“It seems like the part that is you is growing larger than the part that is me. I think it’s a positive change. Seriously. Yes.”

It didn’t sound serious to Arthur-2. After stopping another kick, I messed up her hair again and went into the bathroom. I didn’t stay long.

After checking the equipment I needed to take to work at night shift, I picked up an armful of gear bags and waved to Arthur-2. She still had messy hair and gave me only a sullen look.

“I’ll be going to work from Eve’s place, so go alone. See you at the company, Arthur.”

“Whatever, Arthur. Make sure your girlfriend’s back is intact when you come to work. Our only medic having a back injury would be terrible.”

With a light shrug indicating it wasn’t something I could control, I finally acknowledged my manic-like joy at being back in Los Angeles and headed to Eve’s place.

Pastor Bill Weber, saying he couldn’t interfere with the time the two people needed, placed his hologram projector on the charger and entered sleep mode. And… unfortunately, it seemed Arthur-2’s request wouldn’t be fulfilled.