Ch.240034 Work Record – Look-alikes (4)

There’s a saying I always repeat. Firefighters must love fire as much as they want to extinguish it to prevent tragedy.

This doesn’t mean being deceived by the dazzling dance of flames. It means having enough interest in fire to understand it, learn about it, and study the patterns within its flickering in order to extinguish it.

The same applies now. I’ll extend that same understanding and interest to the assassins targeting Polaris.

“First, I’d like to contact the legal assassination team at T Entertainment. Rather than just hearing about their equipment, it would be better to meet them in person and learn about their operational methods.”

Among all the resources available to learn about assassins in the entertainment industry, no one was more suitable than T Entertainment’s legal assassins.

After learning from them, I’ll gladly apply that knowledge against those targeting Polaris. Expanding my capabilities through learning has always been enjoyable.

“I can arrange a meeting if you wish, but…”

Polaris trails off momentarily.

“Is this scholarly enthusiasm for murder techniques also part of who you are? Aren’t you also the person who made this world ‘a place worth living in while consuming one’s entire soul’ for Serena Vanderbilt?”

I’ve always worn many faces. In that sense, the nickname Jeff gave me fits perfectly.

“Don’t you also have both the face of someone who wants to be an ordinary singer, and the face of someone who could never be just an ordinary singer, Polaris?”

Originally, I had only dreamed of becoming, at most, an exemplary Bellwether employee. Now I’ve come much too far from that.

“Coming too far” typically carries regret and an unreachable nostalgia, but not in Bellwether’s lexicon.

There’s no such thing as “too far” or “too fast.” To escape this quagmire, one must go farther and faster.

Polaris smiled softly, seemingly pleased with my subtle response. I decide not to elaborate further.

“I suppose that’s what life is. Still, you should tell me one thing. What did you originally dream of?”

“Just… being an exemplary Bellwether employee. Being recognized for efficiency, finding happiness, finding someone to love… just trivial dreams. But someone kicked me off that path of pursuing those trivial dreams.”

Polaris listened as if my story were an amusing old tale. This was the first personal story I’d shared with her.

“And then?”

I considered choosing my words carefully but decided to speak candidly. It was a past I had no reason to regret.

I never particularly wanted to kill people or become cruel, but I had expertise in such techniques. And if necessary, I had the mindset to willingly do so.

“After being kicked to the curb, I grabbed hold of my life again and tore apart the one who kicked me with my own hands. Because he tried to tear my life apart so casually.”

“Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone who’s crossed you with their limbs still intact?”

Though Polaris disliked violence, she burst into laughter at my words.

It was such an innocent laugh that it seemed out of place with the atmosphere, but Polaris was someone who fit in just as well amid bloody assassin warfare as she did in performing arts.

Satisfied with my answer, a name highlighted in green on Polaris’s list slides into my view.

It was the assassination section chief of Talent and Tradition Entertainment’s legal assassination team. Apparently, section chief is the starting rank now.

I hadn’t fought alongside the legal assassination team before. Still, enemies and allies aren’t that different.

The vulnerabilities I consider when they’re enemies become weaknesses I need to support when they’re allies, and strengths when they’re allies become points of concern to break when they’re enemies.

What matters isn’t whether they’re enemies or allies, but knowing enough to make that judgment. Right now, the legal assassins are on my side, and the security team is my enemy.

I connect a call to the legal assassination section chief. The connection establishes quickly. I speak first.

“This is Arthur Murphy, Bellwether-certified freelancer. I’ve been assigned to Polaris’s security detail and wanted to learn how Talent and Tradition’s legal assassins operate. For preparation purposes.”

“That’s quite an abrupt contact. And for someone who needs to prepare against enemies to want to learn from the inside…”

“Normally, a company’s force would naturally be its security team. That’s true in every other industry. But not in the entertainment industry. Your company’s security team seems quite… displeased about that fact.”

I casually process the information Polaris had hinted at and make it my own.

The section chief goes quiet for a moment. Not for long. He grits his teeth and spits out his words.

“Are they displeased? Or did someone make those diligent people feel displeased? Was there discriminatory treatment? Or did someone make the differences in job duties appear like discrimination?”

The internal conflict is real. And there are people unhappy about it. Office politics is difficult in any company.

“Probably the latter in both cases, but what matters is that Polaris is in danger because of these latter reasons, isn’t it?”

“Sigh, that’s right. And if all plans fail here, the coup faction will immediately lose momentum. Who would trust a coup faction that can’t succeed with even one plan?”

Is the chairman not intervening directly? I thought the entertainment industry was one that didn’t forgive indecisiveness.

Or perhaps they’re still operating covertly. They might be using Polaris’s departure from headquarters to the dangerous streets of Los Angeles as bait.

It takes that kind of gambling personality to become one of the tyrants of this high-speed era.

I made several conjectures, but none were work-related, so I pushed them out of my mind. Right now, this meeting with the legal assassination section chief was far more important.

“Well, one way or another, our objectives align. Please confirm your location, and I’ll head there immediately. Time is a crucial resource in situations like this.”

An address appears in my mind. It was a fairly large house near Polaris’s safe house, recently acquired by T Entertainment. There would be more than just one or two people there.

The more teachers, the better. I end the communication. Polaris, who had been listening to my voice all along, reaches out and lightly touches my cheek. She smiles as if stifling a laugh.

“You have eyes similar to the chairman’s. The chairman always tells me ‘our eyes are alike,’ but… one can’t see that for oneself, can they? I think I understand a bit now what kind of eyes they are.”

Is it like the look people have when they hear animal howls instead of human voices in others’ speech? I tried to imagine such a light in my eyes for a moment, but eventually gave up.

“My abilities aren’t good enough to see my own eyes. Take care of yourself. Theo is a reliable bodyguard, so I’ll leave you in his care.”

Close protection was his role from the beginning, while mine was to actively seek out threats. Like Aegis learns and attacks, I too must learn and attack.

I turn off the noise suppressor and return to the living room. The purpose of Eve and Arthur-2’s outing was… apparently shopping. Eve was attaching artificial skin to Arthur-2’s prosthetic arm.

It didn’t take long for Polaris to start brightening up at the sight of Arthur-2 squirming again. Polaris spoke with a genuinely innocent voice.

“Theo, since potential threats might discover that Arthur has taken this job, and since employers should ensure their employees’ safety… shall we stay here a bit longer?”

Somehow… she seemed to like Arthur-2. I wasn’t sure if I should pray for Ms. Solverson’s soul, but it was rare to see Polaris happily saying things like “Should we call in the stylists?”

It was a sight no paparazzi could ever capture. Eve, who had handed over the artificial skin she was attaching to Polaris, approached me and lightly tapped my black-suited shoulder. I rolled my eyes toward her.

“I want to say goodbye to you in your home, but should I be concerned that Polaris is sitting with her bodyguard behind you, Arthur?”

It sounded more sincere than sarcastic. Having a celebrity occupy a corner of your home isn’t something one experiences easily.

Hearing the words “goodbye,” Polaris quickly realized what I was about to do and tapped Theo’s chest, on which she was perched. She turned her head away with a slightly sulky expression.

The guard named Theo turned his back, which carried a bulletproof shield, toward us, completely blocking Polaris’s view of us. He was acting as if he didn’t mind being with Arthur-2, which was amusing to watch.

I briefly removed my display helmet, and Eve, standing on tiptoe with her arms around my neck, kissed me briefly. Hearing a heartbeat much faster than mine makes me feel alive.

Not forgetting that feeling of being alive, I pressed my forehead firmly against Eve’s once more before leaving the house. I took the elevator down, got on my bike in the parking lot, and headed to meet T Entertainment’s legal assassins.

In the sky, drone cameras I often saw at H Entertainment were flying. They clicked away with hungry-looking gazes, almost like baby birds with their beaks gaping red.

Who would have thought Los Angeles would become a place with such an entertainment industry atmosphere overnight? By the time I had that thought, I arrived at my destination.

Virtual signs reading “Temporary T Entertainment Security Maintenance Zone” floated around the area. “Temporary” meant that both Bellwether and T Entertainment could conduct security operations simultaneously. T Entertainment was also preparing thoroughly.

Upon arrival, an agent wearing thin reinforced armor, not quite full-enclosure, was already waiting. As I approached, he verified my identity and tucked the submachine gun he was holding into his waistband.

The hand holding the submachine gun and the opposite hand were prosthetics with different purposes. The empty hand had a structure that allowed temporary detachment of the hand part. He probably had a grenade launcher embedded in his wrist.

“I’m Arthur Murphy, the Bellwether-certified freelancer I contacted you about. I said it that way, but entertainment industry assassins are so creative and exceptional. I just needed somewhere to learn.”

It’s unavoidable in an industry where even corporate warfare is conducted by assassins. The woman who removed her enclosed helmet, revealing bright rose-colored long hair, shook her head lightly.

Her fiber optic wig changed texture and color. The voluminous flowing hair instantly became black hair that clung tightly to her neckline and head. She nodded briefly.

“I’m the leader of Assassination Team 3, Legal Assassination Department, Talent and Tradition Entertainment. Call me Rozashan for convenience. My father was a devotee of old-world literature, so my name is disgustingly long.”

Even the departmental structure differed from Bellwether’s. Departments instead of teams, teams instead of sections. It might be a structure with several teams much larger than a single section. Assassination requires many people.

After checking that her weapon was locked, she handed it directly to me. I accepted it immediately. A submachine gun lighter than a minor misdeed. It seemed designed for spraying at close range rather than accurate shooting.

I removed the magazine to check inside. It was full of flechette rounds, just as Polaris had described. The tips of the flechette arrows embedded in the center of the bullets had a faint blue glow. Rozashan immediately warned me.

“Those are highly toxic flechettes, so don’t touch them. Our legal assassins use them, but they’re tools generally used by entertainment industry assassins. It’s basically a bullet sprayer, but quite useful thanks to the ammunition.”

Just one penetrating the skin would either kill you or ensure you never appear on broadcasts again. The possibility of causing collateral damage by passing through a person was low, if you hit properly.

The flechettes might penetrate body armor, but they had no chance of breaking through a Type 4’s immune system. They wouldn’t pose a significant threat to me. As I examined the weapon, a second tool was passed to me.

It was a smoke grenade. Judging by its weight, it contained more than just ordinary smoke. Rozashan quickly began explaining again. Things I needed to know.

“Since submachine guns that can effectively embed toxic flechettes in multiple targets have short range, assassins are generally familiar with smoke grenades too. That one contains hallucinogenic nerve gas that our legal assassins use.”

“If T Entertainment’s legal assassins use hallucinogenic nerve gas, I suppose even street operators have access to the anesthetic gas that MediTechs sell cheaply?”

Rozashan nodded cleanly. This industry, filled with assassin warfare, had convergently evolved in a different direction from military industries like Bellwether.

I returned the submachine gun and smoke grenade to her, and she raised her right hand, which could detach at the wrist. The wrist lock released, the prosthetic wrist detached, and a launch port was revealed.

It was a grenade launcher. By the smell, it would fire thermite clusters. She took out a white grenade from the rifled barrel opening in her wrist and showed it to me.

“Primary weapons are generally similar, but secondary weapons… are really a matter of personal preference. I use a thermite grenade launcher. It can neutralize targets even if they’re somewhat armored.”

Of course, the effective range of that bullet-spraying submachine gun is the limit. It might be questionable for full-scale warfare, but not bad for eliminating variables in assassination scenarios.

“But all of this equipment is designed to kill more people, more quickly, more certainly, and escape—front-line combat isn’t factored in. As a military corporation’s certified freelancer, you’d be better off pushing through with firepower…”

“Let’s leave that to Theodore. I need to identify and deal with assassins mixed in with the crowds following Polaris. And there would be smells, right?”

All sensory organs of a Type 4 are enhanced. I can detect the fishy smell that synthetic food producers try so hard to hide, and consume surrounding sounds at the level of eavesdropping devices.

With eyes that perform well enough not to need optical equipment, I could naturally smell the numerous chemicals that entertainment industry assassins use for “certain disposal.”

“Smells…?”

“Even with your wrist closed, the thermite smell leaks out. Your combat suit has been repeatedly soaked in toxic agents and cleaned, so the cleaning chemical smell has seeped in, and the flechettes have their own distinctive odor.”

Being able to detect by smell meant I could pinpoint assassins’ locations just by narrowing them down to the same space. Sometimes the most primitive detection methods are the most effective.

She brought her face to her open wrist, sniffed, and looked puzzled. She apparently couldn’t smell it herself. That was to be expected.

“If you can detect them that way, that’s fortunate… Oh, right. Many assassins also use force-assist devices or jump jets. Since the goal includes completing the job and escaping. As for transportation…”

“A Type 4’s legs can chase that pace by running, so don’t worry. I don’t introduce myself as a Bellwether biological weapon to intimidate others.”

Rozashan clicked her tongue as if dumbfounded. She glanced at my footsteps following behind her. She seemed to have noticed that they made no sound at all.

“I thought you were an unprepared operator trying to learn about the job belatedly… but it’s the complete opposite. You’re just a hunting dog identifying the scent of your designated prey.”

Rozashan now willingly explained how entertainment industry assassins operate.

They mimic. Sometimes they appear as fans, sometimes they impersonate staff or employees whose faces the stars can’t all memorize. In that state, they approach, unleash those toxic flechettes, and flee.

If they don’t need to use toxic flechettes, they might prefer different weapons, but their principle is mass killing. In this industry, each person is both workforce and means of production.

I need to identify them at the mimicry stage. I was skilled at mimicry, so recognizing those who mimic shouldn’t be difficult. The preparation to hunt the hunters was nearing completion.