Ch.245Work Record 034 – Look-alikes (9)

Looking back, Dean’s armament resembled that of assassins in the entertainment industry. If you consider the katana he wielded as something like their auxiliary weapon, the resemblance is perfect.

Perhaps he’s someone who resembles me as well. He might appear like someone to whom the word “world” meant nothing more than the mega-corporation where he grew up and lived, but Dean had moved beyond that stage long ago.

Brandon naturally shielded the hacker with his closed-type power suit, and it seemed the assassin hired by T Entertainment had no intention of looking around when faced with a former T Entertainment certified freelancer.

The problem was that the distance between the two was too close. It seemed like the time it would take for the assassin to aim and fire the submachine gun at Dean would be similar to the speed at which Dean could swing his sword.

Even in this situation, Dean was rolling a beer bottle cap in his hand. I thought it might be some kind of routine, but in that tension-filled moment… the bottle cap naturally slipped from Dean’s hand.

It didn’t look like he accidentally dropped it. Something about the size of the beer bottle cap emerged from Dean’s prosthetic palm. He threw it without any change in expression.

The unidentifiable object flew in a short straight line and attached to the assassin’s hand in a smooth trajectory. A brief electrical current sparked, and the prosthetic hand holding the submachine gun went limp.

After that… it was literally instantaneous. The moment the hand holding the problematic submachine gun was neutralized, Dean willingly swung his sword. It was fast, but still trackable with the naked eye.

His swordsmanship certainly confirmed he was from the entertainment industry. High-frequency blades don’t require much strength to handle. The cutting is done by the vibration.

Rather, pressing too hard against the target could dull the blade’s vibration, making it unable to cut materials it should be able to cut. In that sense… Dean looked as if he merely rested his hand on a self-moving sword.

With swift lightness, he struck off the wrist of the assassin who had been holding the submachine gun. Drawing a natural and smooth arc as he returned, he struck again, but this time the assassin blocked it by raising his prosthetic arm.

It was also a prosthetic arm with a high-frequency blade. Whether it was modeled after Belwether Special Operations’, unlike what their copyright department used, the blade at the fingertips was quite long. It was a strange feeling.

Although the assassin managed to deflect Dean’s sword with a fairly good reaction speed, the damage to his fingertips was visible due to the basic performance difference. High-frequency blades are delicate items.

As if even deflecting it meant nothing, Dean, gently gripping the katana handle, cleanly sliced off not just the fingertips with the high-frequency blade but the entire wrist.

According to entertainment industry grammar, he should cut the neck next, but Dean was just looking down at him. He hadn’t put away his sword, but he had thrown away such a golden opportunity.

That assassin was definitely an assassin. He immediately deduced the only way to subdue Dean in this situation. He extended his severed wrist and fired a wire that had been installed inside the forearm of his prosthetic.

The wire was too thick to be for cutting. It was literally for binding. It seemed he intended to tie Dean up and drag him into the pool to finish him by drowning, but Dean cut the wire faster.

His skill was grotesquely impressive. The ability to precisely cut flying wire without letting it wrap around the blade was something that couldn’t be achieved even with eight hours of daily training.

Dean’s armament was, as he said, outdated. Who in this day and age would do mercenary work wearing a leather jacket with fur around the neck, holding a submachine gun in one hand and a katana in the other?

But someone who had devoted their entire life to that outdated armament could create a small variable in that obvious truth. After cutting the wire, Dean neatly carved out the part with the wire launcher.

Dean finally sheathed his katana. Looking at the T Entertainment assassin who had forcibly cut off the sensory feedback from his three severed prosthetics, he spoke leisurely.

“While I do enjoy a good fight, I dislike killing people without a clear message to leave behind. So, I’m going to grant you a cruel mercy.”

Dean raised just the right corner of his mouth as if it were an amusing matter. He picked up his sunglasses that he had set aside momentarily, lifted them with the end of his scabbard, put them back on, and continued.

“You not only lost to someone who thinks the opposite of you… but the weaker one didn’t even become a piece of meat. In short, my stubbornness pushed out yours, right? My perfect victory.”

Despite Dean’s grin, the assassin from T Entertainment was gritting his teeth, looking down at his two hands as if searching for a solution. His conviction was strong enough to be ready to give up his life. But convictions aren’t always right.

If he’s still thinking about eliminating Dean despite being shown mercy, then he’s… someone better off not existing than existing. Around that thought, Dean slowly whistled and then nodded toward me.

“Don’t try again, friend. I may be an outdated assassin from T Entertainment, but that one over there is a current Belwether-made bioweapon. And this is sincere advice… that friend seems to be getting bored.”

He also knew what was most important to me. It’s enjoying things. Living like a human and savoring life. If I can enjoy it, any other standard is useless.

Amusingly, even people in the entertainment industry could understand that. It’s an industry where fun, stimulation, and pleasure are the only doctrines. There are no restrictions on methodology. From murder to hope.

At least T Entertainment seemed to handle people better than N Entertainment. The T Entertainment assassin chose to flee rather than launch a suicide attack. I stopped him as he turned to leave.

I had no business with him, but Dean did. Looking at Dean beyond the assassin’s figure, I asked. Conversations are meant to be had with those who can understand them.

“If you let him go back, he’ll report, Dean.”

“See, that’s what I call kindness. It’s fine. I don’t mind. If this guy goes back and says the operator he was trying to meet was Neon Snake… he’s already lost two arms, but he’ll get his shins kicked in too.”

“I guess T Entertainment asked for your wrist when you retired?”

“You can leave out the word ‘wrist.’ I couldn’t just give them my neck either, so after subduing the assassins who came for me with Silver Lining, I told the branch manager directly. That I was retiring. Only then did they let me go.”

It was the only way to make a mega-corporation cut ties. You have to destroy more value than they expect to gain by capturing you somehow. Then they start to consider dialogue.

But there can be no dialogue with Hollow Creek. That place moves according to the cult leader’s will. If the cult leader wants my Eve, Eve’s value becomes infinite.

So the only solution is… to kill the cult leader. If I can make Nadia happy while killing the cult leader, that’s good, and if Hollow Creek returns to its original form, that’s good too.

I decided to respect Dean’s answer. Silver Lining was a company that could handle several such petty operators, and if attention was focused on Dean, they could help him take out some of the assassins one by one.

The assassin thus barely found his life. It was a cruel mercy from Dean, and a strategic judgment from me. Only after confirming his departure did Dean approach me with his usual affable expression.

“Those guys’ goal is to kill Polaris, and you clearly knew that guy was coming beforehand?”

“Red information wouldn’t mean much to someone who’s starting to get playful, would it?”

“It means nothing. Polaris’s bodyguard! Working for the person who made me regret quitting my T Entertainment certified freelancer job for the first and last time. I’m envious. Sincerely!”

Are they people who would get along well? Maybe. They both mock the logic of survival of the fittest in the entertainment industry. Dean mocks it by leaving, Polaris by ruling over that industry.

“If Silver Lining had a slightly better reputation, I’d designate them as a partner company with freelancer authority and go together. Don’t you want to be less hated by Belwether?”

“Not at all. If I did, I wouldn’t have quit being a T Entertainment certified freelancer in the first place. I’m going to do what I want to do…”

Dean playfully swung his high-frequency blade, scabbard and all, toward me. I caught it lightly.

“You don’t even need to call Silver Lining, right? For a Belwether-made bioweapon that can tear people like paper, you mimic humanity quite well.”

It wasn’t a cautious remark. He meant it literally. There probably aren’t many people who have lived as a 3-company certified freelancer with less than a year of career experience as a social rookie.

“That’s why you took on the role of Polaris’s bodyguard, right? I’d like to hang out here drinking beer today too… but I just don’t have the time.”

“We’re basically unemployed bums, so all we do is hang around every day. Take your time. Silver Lining will welcome you whenever you visit.”

After waving goodbye to the good-natured smiling Dean, I left the mansion where Silver Lining was staying. Though called a mansion, it was probably a building with only past glory.

Abandoned for a while and used only as a hideout, it has now become a home again. Is it a significant change? I would gladly say yes. Creating a place to return to was such a pleasant thing.

I got back on my bike and headed home. I headed to an apartment complex where building winds strong enough to require soundproof windows blew on the upper floors, and entered my home.

I had never thought about how many people in the world could hope for Polaris to be waiting when they got home, but it was certainly a rare fortune in this high-speed era.

So, when I opened the door with my key… something was blocking my view. It was a rack full of clothes hangers. Seeing that each outfit was more expensive than my apartment deposit… they were certainly Polaris’s belongings.

She wouldn’t have decided to use this place as a waiting room when her own waiting room was larger than my entire apartment. As I was moving the rack to enter, Polaris approached me with someone.

It was Arthur-2. His two arms, replaced with metal-muscled prosthetics with strength-assist devices, were covered with artificial skin of a natural color… and the clothes he wore seemed to be Polaris’s casual wear.

She’s been tyrannical. Arthur-2’s face was flushed red, and he was making only broken syllables, unable to string words together, suggesting it wasn’t his will. Or he was just awkward.

Polaris had her hands lightly placed on Arthur-2’s shoulders, smiling with a perfectly sculpted smile. My Eve… was half-lying on a beanbag in the living room, barely holding back laughter.

It’s home to an absurd degree. All those events outside feel like unreal incidents compared to this everyday scene. Polaris started speaking as if trying to change the subject.

“You have no idea what a delightful time the three of us had. Ms. Solberson is, yes, completely you… but she’s full of openings, with clear reactions, making her a joy to be around.”

Arthur-2 is quite impulsive. Reviving from death, learning he’s a clone, and being thrown into a situation where he must find a new life—everything happened too suddenly.

The problem is that this hasty and impulsive temperament creates openings… and for Polaris, exploiting a person’s openings is so simple it can hardly be called work.

“It sounds like you enjoyed playing with him, Polaris.”

Though I said it playfully, Polaris widened her eyes as if surprised and flustered. Even knowing it was a playful act, she made me feel like I had said something strange.

It’s truly a perfect sculpture. Even when she widens her eyes and covers her mouth with her hand, the playful smile forming under her hand and the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles are breathtakingly beautiful.

“Playing with him! Ms. Solberson seemed not to know what suited her, so I was merely happy to help.”

“The kid’s face is all red and he can barely speak right now.”

Polaris pretended to ponder as if she didn’t understand the reason. Then, as if she finally understood, she clapped her hands once briefly.

“Could it be because he’s wearing someone else’s clothes? He’s been reacting like that since I told him these are clothes I often wear. I wish Arthur had as many openings as I do.”

My Eve and Polaris were briefly on the same side, but at this moment, the sides changed again. It seemed Polaris just wanted to play a prank, so Eve didn’t seriously stop her either.

Naturally rising from her observing position, Eve pushed Arthur-2 firmly into Polaris’s arms and then came closer to me. It seemed to mean don’t be greedy beyond your share.

“My Arthur’s charm is his thoroughness. No, is that charm? He keeps trying to tease this noona with it… but still, it’s a good quality.”

In this utterly trivial and everyday scene, Polaris turned up the power on the silent zone generator she was wearing like a wristwatch under her shirt. She grinned.

“I heard the report from Rozashan. They said you annihilated the T Entertainment certified gang. As a result, the assassins started moving to assess the situation and find a way to survive… and one was left for social courtesy.”

I should have realized that reports would reach Polaris regardless of whether I spoke about it. Polaris, who had spoken words unbecoming of her beautiful face, soon returned to an innocent expression.

“Every successful job performance needs a reward. So, this is my reward to you. A piece of the most trivial, most ordinary scenery. Isn’t all that struggle for this?”

Everything is performative and deceptive. Polaris must be her stage name, but it sounds like her real name. Still, it wasn’t bad. As she said, all that struggle was for these trivial things.

It was amazing that even the pinnacle of the entertainment industry, which seemed to live the most glamorous life in this world, could praise the value of simple life. That’s why she’s worth working for.

Just as I felt liberation and joy when slaughtering the unqualified hiding like cancer in Belwether, I was certain I would feel something similar when dealing with T Entertainment’s assassins.