Ch.244Work Record #034 – Look-alikes (8)

No matter how much it’s called a mind map, it’s still a person’s memory. The memories right before death are inevitably the most intense. I ruminate on the terror she felt upon seeing me. When she saw me, she thought of the Copyright Division.

I observe from her perspective the moment when she charged at me with uncontrollable emotion after watching her precious person suffer the agony of their nervous system burning up while trying to help her.

Everything happened too quickly. Her fist was severed, and even in that situation, she didn’t panic as she extended a second fist, which was also ripped away. Even the mind recorded in her mind map was severely shaken at that moment.

After that came a series of despair. The only positive emotion she had was thinking it fortunate that I finished off the other promising talent with a gun rather than burning them to death with electricity.

I rummage through the mind map. I find the memories I wanted about T&T’s assassins. I check the work instructions and records she received before coming here. They weren’t completely intact.

Although Rosashan was cooperative with me, she was still part of Talent and Tradition’s legal team, so it seems she censored memories that were unfavorable to the company or unrelated to work and beyond my security clearance.

That itself isn’t a problem. Considering that memories of receiving instructions about the assassination attempt on Polaris—arguably T&T’s greatest disgrace—remain, she didn’t hide everything.

Her purpose for being sent to Los Angeles was simple: to operate covertly in the city, cause disturbances, and draw attention to prevent other assassins from being exposed. The instructions weren’t carried out.

More precisely, around the time attention started gathering as instructed, I harvested her. Would she have been eliminated by Belwether if I had left her alone? It’s hard to say. She was also a T&T employee.

If civilian casualties had occurred, Belwether would have hunted her regardless of who she was. If she had only killed other criminals while operating in the shadows, they probably wouldn’t have bothered.

While building her reputation in back alleys and slums, she was disposed of by me. She had converted that mansion into a massive trap in preparation for an attack, but it was ultimately meaningless.

I check the memories from the moment she received her instructions. She received a list of people who shouldn’t be touched from her superior.

Fortunately, I didn’t need to go through the mind map page by page to check the list. The information processing team had already compiled it separately. I download it.

I thought I had extracted everything useful from her memories, but there were still more memories marked as important points. I trace back through that memory.

An unexpected harvest. She had met the Copyright Division in person. Through her memories, I begin to see the image of Talent and Tradition’s top assassin, soaked in adrenal stimulants.

The strongest emotion she felt was intimidation. Even though the Copyright Division was sitting on a sofa in a suit rather than combat gear, drinking coffee, she felt suffocated.

The Copyright Division’s voice is quite ordinary. No, that makes sense. If they were an uncontrolled assassin, they would have been disposed of three times over by now. The conversation is about work.

“Polaris is… beautiful, but yes. Clearly worthy of being at the pinnacle of Talent and Tradition, but an unacceptable existence. She’s trying to change the methodology of this industry. This industry of survival of the fittest…”

Most people who believe in “survival of the fittest” have faith that they themselves won’t become the meat being eaten. However, this Copyright Division didn’t seem to have such narrow-mindedness.

After completing the Belwether coup, the Special Operations Division also accepted their fate of becoming an immortal of this era, willingly sacrificing everything with the logic that sacrificing the few for the many was natural.

“She’s trying to contaminate it. We made this industry a place where only those who struggle can survive. Like Marduk who killed Tiamat, we created a new paradigm, a new industry, and she’s insulting that.”

When I have time, I should go to Mila’s house and thoroughly browse through her library. Not understanding someone else’s metaphors is unpleasant. I decided to rely on Chance’s explanation just this once more.

“It’s an ancient mythological creation story where a hero slays the tyrannical earth mother goddess and fashions the world from her corpse. I assess that it bears some similarity to the beginnings of the entertainment industry, doesn’t it?”

It seemed to be referring to the incident where Talent and Tradition killed an entertainment industry whale and became independent. While it was the reason the entertainment industry became like this, it’s a source of pride for T&T.

And inevitably, the company’s high-ranking officials share the company’s beliefs. This Copyright Division derived their values of struggle and survival of the fittest from the company’s history and beliefs. They firmly believe in it.

Whether it’s a healthy belief or not is unclear, but what matters is that it is a belief. All beliefs become strength in themselves. One must be wary of those who know how to wield that strength.

The gang boss’s gaze scans the Copyright Division’s body. Surprisingly, for an entertainment industry assassin who actively uses poisons, they don’t seem to have a full-body prosthetic. It’s a human face.

The artificial eyes focus on enhanced peripheral vision, with pupils consisting of several concentric circles. Though the empty-looking pupils could have given off a hollow impression, they didn’t.

The inhuman vitality that could be felt from the Special Operations Division could also be felt from them. The gang boss’s gaze moves down to the Copyright Division’s right hand. It’s hard to call it a hand.

Fingers made of sharp blades, like the Special Operations Division’s hand with extended blades, were holding a coffee cup. Despite their sharpness, they could hold the coffee cup without scratching it, showing excellent precision.

However, the gang boss thought of that hand not as blades but as a poison injector. Indeed, both the blades and the hand are thicker than those of the Special Operations Division. There was clearly some additional mechanism inside.

Do they stab with the blade hand and then inject poison? A primitive but certain method. In the worst case, that hand might inject poison that even a Type 4’s immune system couldn’t withstand. A top priority target for caution.

Another noticeable feature was… the size of the drug injector at the back of their neck. It was five or six times larger than my nail-sized drug injector that only contained preservation catalyst, and it had many more drug cartridges.

A life soaked in drugs is always short. It shouldn’t be a major problem. With combat capabilities at the Copyright Division’s level plus that much drug administration, it’s the enemies’ lives that will be shortened.

The gun on the coffee table is a proper carbine, unlike those of other entertainment industry assassins. It probably won’t have the power of pistol-fired flechettes.

The fortunate thing is that, judging by the combat prosthetic on the right arm, they’re likely far from using a closed-type enhancement suit. While a closed-type enhancement suit is a useful defense, it couldn’t be called a perfect weapon.

Especially for assassination, which is the Copyright Division’s main task, to put it bluntly, it’s practically useless except for showcasing to the world that the assassination target died because they angered a mega-corporation.

At least she was a woman from whom I could gain a lot from the mind map. I put the mind map back in my pocket, and after briefly scanning a drone carrying a sealed organic waste bin flying through the building, I left the headquarters.

I was thinking of stopping by home to report to Polaris when Manager Rosashan’s communication request suddenly hit my ear. I connect the communication immediately. Rosashan’s relaxed voice comes through.

“As you said, they started moving after we showed them an example. I also shared information with Belwether, and it seems one assassin has been caught in Belwether’s surveillance network. It’s in the slums again…”

Belwether’s surveillance network. I had a feeling I knew where they went. After letting out a deep sigh, I interrupted her words briefly.

“Don’t tell me they went to Silver Lining? If we’re talking about a high-risk operator with abilities that Belwether would put under their own surveillance, I can’t think of anywhere else but Silver Lining.”

“Are you familiar with that organization? It seems they’re trying to make contact with Silver Lining. Since you know what kind of request they might make, can you handle it quickly? This is also about protecting Polaris.”

“Silver Lining isn’t the kind of company that takes such requests. I’ll try to persuade them first, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll handle it. I’ll report back shortly, so please wait a moment.”

I make the bike that Panacea Meditech’s building management AI slowly brought out run at full speed, then run alongside it and jump on. As I race toward the slums, I put in a communication request to Dean.

He also answers the call promptly. In the background, I could hear the sound of meat grilling. A barbecue party with real food ingredients—it seems even more luxurious than a freelancer’s life.

“What’s up, Arthur! If you’ve got time to join the party, I welcome it. Don’t you want to come and indulge in real meat skewers and non-synthetic beer? Huh?”

“Unfortunately, I’m working. And I’m calling because a target is heading to Silver Lining right now. They’re probably going to make a request.”

Dean, who seemed to have been chewing a meat skewer with his mouth full, swallowed the meat before answering. His voice was still cheerful, but the atmosphere had changed slightly.

“Oh, really? I don’t know what that guy wants to request, but it seems like you’re calling to ask me not to accept his request until you get here, Arthur. Am I right?”

“Were we on such untrusting terms? No, I just wanted you to stall for time until I arrive. It won’t take long, and I don’t want to miss the fun part.”

My words made Dean burst into laughter. I clearly let him know that my greatest value, amusingly enough, is entertainment. Only then did Dean’s voice return to normal.

“If that’s the case, welcome. But honestly… I’m getting more curious about what that guy wants to request since you won’t tell me. Can’t you give me a hint?”

“Spoilers are a serious crime in this industry. I’ve given you enough hints… just wait. See you.”

I request traffic coordination for freelance work from Stephanet. Although it involved Panacea Meditech, which Belwether wasn’t on good terms with, it was related to a performance in a Belwether-owned city.

If a safety incident occurred here, Belwether would also bear some responsibility. More than the responsibility itself, the mere mention of a security failure in a military corporation’s city would be a disgrace to the company.

In that case, Belwether could willingly set aside their grudges. They might not dispatch troops, but they could easily provide traffic control or information sharing. Flexibility creates speed.

I race at top speed as if nothing was blocking the road and arrive at Dean’s mansion in Malibu. Now the mansion even had a sign that read “Silver Lining Mercenary Company.”

Once again, I lightly jump up to the roof of the mansion and approach. The smell of grilling meat wafts through the air. They were talking in the backyard where the barbecue party was taking place. I hear the assassin’s voice.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying. Polaris is ideologically difficult to accept in the entertainment industry. She hinders the growth of the entertainment industry and will eventually make us lose our competitive edge.”

I don’t know who was the first psychopathic artist to claim that good art can’t emerge without people dying, but in the entertainment industry, it had now become common sense.

Dean slightly raises his eyes to glance at me standing on the mansion’s roof. Looking down at the entertainment industry assassin, I nod a couple of times.

“So you believe that by killing the soft Polaris and reviving the cruelty of the entertainment industry that she’s blocking, Talent and Tradition will flourish several times more than now, right?”

The assassin nodded vigorously. It seemed like he thought Dean believed in what he believed. But that wasn’t the case. Not at all. In Dean’s voice, I could hear the sound of a beast howling.

He possesses both cunning and ferocity, yet somehow he’s a beast for whom a human voice seems more fitting than the sound of a howling beast. He had quite chilling eyes.

“In short, even thinking about soft human sensibilities is heretical, and it’s right to follow beast-like reason that moves like a machine for survival? Because humans are too soft?”

The T&T assassin tried to draw a submachine gun from his waist, but Dean blocked his hand with his Japanese sword still in its scabbard. Dean still wanted to talk.

“This perfectly shows why I quit being a T&T certified freelancer. Huh? I like the stories of ordinary citizens who say they’re just meat to be eaten by people like you. I’d like that to continue. You know?”

I lightly jump down from the mansion roof and land next to Brandon, who isn’t wearing an enhancement suit. He’s startled again, but fortunately, he doesn’t make a sound this time. He just quietly listens to Dean’s continuing words.

By now, the sound of a beast howling was no longer in his voice. It’s as if he could willingly shed all reason, nature, and all entanglements and shackles… but decided to put them back on himself.

It’s human. Perhaps too human. People whose voices carry the sound of a howling beast tend to give up some of their humanity, but Dean doesn’t seem to be like that.

Whether it’s right or wrong, there’s no doubt that it’s Dean’s own choice. No one can force us.

“So, after enduring for a while, I finally realized the company’s policy just didn’t match with me… so I just quit. That was an acceptable difference of opinion. But to flaunt it in front of me.”

“If you’re a former T&T certified freelancer, callsign Neon Snake… What are you trying to say? After T&T put you at the top, you betrayed them, and yet…”

“Let me tell you what I want to say. We’re both stubborn. We’re both insisting that only what we believe is the sole truth in the world. But there’s no way to know which one of us is right here.”

Dean drew his high-frequency katana from its scabbard. The T&T assassin also rolled up his suit sleeve to reveal his left prosthetic arm and drew his submachine gun. Dean somehow had an excited look on his face.

Rather than excited, it’s a free expression. A person who can only enjoy fighting freely for what they believe in. Dean was quite an ambiguous person, but… he doesn’t seem like a bad person.

“All we can determine here is who can keep insisting until tomorrow. I know the ecology of the entertainment industry well too. I know very well that it can’t end without bloodshed.”

It seemed like I would finally be able to properly see Dean fighting. As I said, it would be a time I could enjoy.