Ch.249Work Record #035 – A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing (4)

I decided to make a rude yet direct statement. I couldn’t contain my curiosity about what this person who could make beast-like howls had done.

Mr. Günter had burned the paradigm of this world to ashes. Serena had willingly sold her soul to save her city, and I… everything was still “in preparation.”

“Wasn’t it Talent & Tradition that brutally killed that whale of the entertainment industry and turned the entertainment industry into what it is today?”

Despite my deliberately rude question, he didn’t show the slightest sign of displeasure. Instead, he began speaking as if it were something to be extremely proud of.

“It’s a long story, but it’s true. Originally, he was an incredibly… radiant person. Honestly, who else could have made comedy films in that era? It was a time when laughter was becoming extinct.”

I couldn’t hear any beast-like howls in his voice. He simply began reminiscing about the past in an unassuming manner, telling stories from when the chairman of a mega-corporation wasn’t yet a chairman.

“I truly had never seen someone pour their entire passion into making people laugh. I don’t need to tell you how admirable that was.”

The image of someone trying to revive laughter in an era when it was dying… it was certainly something that made me smile just thinking about it. He must have been funny without being ridiculous.

“He always lived as if it were the last day on earth. After the tremendous success of his first film, even at Ymir Company which he established from that success, honestly, he wasn’t chairman-like at all.”

The chairmen of mega-corporations weren’t only capable of wearing sharp expressions. Mr. Günter, when reaching into the dusty veil of the past while thinking of his family, surely had a happy face too.

“Every script had to pass through his eyes, and it wasn’t difficult to find him on set sometimes, eyes full of dreams, giving no directions, simply watching the process of a film being made.”

But every lovely past has an end. Mr. Günter wasn’t buried in Berlin with his family. This man wasn’t with that idol-like founder now.

The chairman’s expression, which had been tracing the remnants of the past chronologically, gradually distorted. Instead of his voice, I heard the howl of a beast. A beast filled with betrayal.

“But success eats away at people. We continued on the path to success, but he gradually stopped appearing on set… the man who used to gasp in pure admiration while reading scripts disappeared.”

Did he get tired of it? Or perhaps he had too many responsibilities to maintain his original passion? Either way, it seemed he didn’t possess superhuman vitality.

My vision was flooded with numerous scandal articles. They highlighted the relationship between an actor and that whale of the entertainment industry. The response was… skillful.

The chairman of Ymir Company, the former whale of the entertainment industry, boldly confirmed the relationship. He also expressed his intention to retire, stating that his abilities as a practitioner were beginning to decline.

If that were the case, few executives would have objected. He would have remained someone who left to applause, but apparently not to the chairman of T Entertainment.

“Imagine Sinclair meeting Demian, who has somehow become an ordinary family man with a wife and child. The moment he advises that the stories of the past were just youthful indiscretions, and that one should think about practical matters.”

When I talk with people in the entertainment industry, I realize how culturally ignorant I am. I’ll rely briefly on results I found myself instead of Chance’s supplementary materials.

It seemed he was asking if I could bear witnessing someone mystical, unrealistic, almost idol-like, falling to become just a shabby part of reality. Perhaps.

But… hadn’t he simply made that person his idol on his own? From a human perspective, there’s nothing strange about someone who has already achieved much leaving the industry.

Rather, it would be far more inhuman for someone who seems to have achieved everything humanly possible to reign over the industry and live as some kind of imperial entity.

The actions of people who could make beast-like howls, who smelled like my kind, were generally inhuman. They were people who had lived by discarding all human aspects in one way or another.

Should I do the same? How much of my humanity can I give up to kill Hollowwood Creek? It wasn’t an easy question to answer. He was certainly the type who could give up everything.

“The studios rebelled. They were all people who had followed him. But he was adamant. When we tried to physically stop him, he immediately called the chairman’s security team.”

He had given people too many dreams. He himself had awakened from that dream and descended to reality. A terrible nightmare had occurred for the dreamers.

I’m not on their side. If I had to choose… I’d be closer to the chairman of Ymir Company. If he couldn’t even be allowed that much of a human life, what was he supposed to be?

“A few days later, the chairman called me. He must have thought I was a friend. He said, ‘I’m not dying, I’m just retiring. I don’t understand why everyone is acting like this.'”

He chose the wrong person to confide in. For someone to be able to make beast-like howls, a trigger was needed. For me, death was the trigger. Naturally, I shouldn’t have become such a person.

But this high-speed era managed to save me, and I became one of them. And for the chairman of T Entertainment, that conversation was the trigger. It must have made him reborn.

“I thought it was my last chance and tried to persuade him. But his answer was truly… devastating. To see such a shabby appearance from someone who was once so strong.”

Another virtual screen pushed into my view. It was footage from decades ago. He could bring it up immediately, suggesting he had replayed it over and over.

In it, a young woman sat facing a short man. Was she originally female? Maybe not. Things like “originally” don’t matter anyway.

The short man, whose presence wasn’t as small as his stature, swirled a glass of whiskey and spoke in a voice that seemed both pathetic and devastating.

“I never thought you’d be one of them too. Yes, we had brilliant times. But I just wanted to make movies. I never intended to be part of this… mega-corporation business.”

He took a drink and spoke. Probably to the person sitting across from him, who is now the chairman of T Entertainment but was then just an ordinary studio head. His voice was gloomy.

“But now I’ve been tainted too. I’ve become someone who calls security when you people form a human chain. I’m tired. I’ve become too weak for this job. That’s all.”

I could see the moment predator-prey dynamics were born. Everything originated from love, admiration, and all the beautiful emotions that exist in the world. Only the results differed.

The chairman of T Entertainment, who had revisited that footage with me, wore an expression filled with bitter betrayal. They were different species, speaking different languages; communication was impossible.

“Whether it’s a mega-corporation or whatever, he could have used it as a means to do what he wanted, but he… couldn’t do it. He gave up. He let a once-strong human become weak.”

I could now somewhat understand the reaction of someone who had seen the true face of their idol. He had just been betrayed again by the man in the video. If possible, he would have fired chemical weapons again.

“There was no problem. I remembered his strong and beautiful self, and I could continue that legacy. The entertainment industry is meritocratic. Incompetent people are naturally eliminated.”

The place where T Entertainment fired chemical weapons against Ymir Company wasn’t simply the actors’ and staff’s quarters. It must have been the executive dormitory. Security wouldn’t have been an issue. She was a studio head too.

“The capable, the strong survive, and the incapable, the weak die. I showed my realization to my idol who had become too weak and to those hateful people who had made him weak.”

I already knew what happened next. The coup faction, who infiltrated using executive authority, killed many people with chemical weapons fired by what is now T Entertainment. T Entertainment declared corporate war on Ymir Company.

It was too late to stop the madman, and the only person who could have stopped him died in the first attack. It was a moment when victory and defeat, gains and losses, were reversed.

Rather than sacrificing one’s life for Ymir Company, which had lost its center without a chairman, it might have been wiser to rebel against headquarters like T Entertainment and seize one’s own opportunity.

Not all of us are right. While some, like Marcus Cavendish, are too fragile to realize their beliefs and crumble, others have beliefs so strong and clear that they commit such acts.

Is this the right path? At the moment, even Dean, who threw everything away and wasted his days, seemed better. This was why Neonsnake left T Entertainment.

The belief strong enough to make him commit that terrible act also allowed him to face the downfall of predator-prey dynamics with dignity. If the strong desired it, even predator-prey dynamics could be consumed.

He loved predator-prey dynamics more than his love for predator-prey dynamics. I don’t know how to judge this. It’s inhuman. Utterly inhuman.

While I could work for Polaris, I didn’t think I could work for him, but the conversation was certainly helpful. There’s no better counterexample to learn from.

I must not be so weak that I can’t hold onto my beliefs. I must also fear having beliefs so massive and strong that they grip me and pull me forward.

Everything is about enjoyment. Marcus Cavendish’s life—having the ability to know what he wants but not to achieve it, walking only side paths—would not be enjoyable, so it’s bad.

My life disappearing, all of me becoming a tool to realize my beliefs, the whole world losing meaning—that would not be enjoyable, so the life of the Talent & Tradition chairman is also bad.

There was only one brick to take from him: if you believe in something, believe in it even until it brings your downfall. And there was one more person to take a brick from.

The words of Ymir Company’s chairman, a man who had lived a life of erosion, who simply wanted to make movies. He clearly said he was being tainted, becoming something other than himself.

Absolutely not. I will remain myself and live a happy life with my Eve. Killing Hollowwood Creek is just an essential process for that. I have a purpose. Don’t get swept up in the process.

After quietly observing him, I leaned back slightly against the sofa and nodded. I spoke very casually.

“I’ve learned a lot from what you’ve shared. Really. Probably more than you intended to teach me.”

He smiled at me. Just as he had considered Neonsnake a comrade until just before retirement, he clearly thought I was similar to him.

“I don’t think I was trying to teach anything, but I’m glad you learned. Truly… you seem like the talent that Talent & Tradition needs. If you say you’ve learned.”

“We’re all emotional, aren’t we? After all, the origin of someone who claims predator-prey dynamics should be the absolute good guiding the world was ultimately betrayal. And we’re just forcing our opinions and imposing them on others.”

This time I borrowed a line from Dean. Honestly, we have no way of knowing who’s right. All we can determine is who can push their stubbornness forward until tomorrow.

A cold light briefly flashed in his eyes. I wasn’t afraid. If anything, I found it somewhat enjoyable. He was a person trapped in his own principles. He wouldn’t step outside them, so dealing with him was easy.

“That’s a weak statement.”

“When you judge Polaris, do you judge by the statement ‘I want to care for everyone’? I believe that’s not the case.”

The goodwill he had been showing me was instantly washed away, but it didn’t matter. Not saying what I wanted to say just to gain the goodwill of such a person would be an unenjoyable thing.

“Then, it seems I should ask you to prove your ability…”

“As it happens, we have a good opportunity. The Copyright Department is waiting, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t simply to make myself feel better, or to learn more, but to prove to this predator-prey worshipper that I was someone who could firmly reject his words.

As I’ve thought many times, I’ve never refused self-validation. If anything, I rather enjoy it. He quietly nodded at my words. This statement fits within his logic.

“If you handle the Copyright Department, yes, I’ll consider you a strong person worthy of recognition. If not, I’ll have to reconsider my opinion.”

People with a single standard aren’t difficult to deal with. After lightly bowing my head in greeting, I tucked the small evil deed back at my waist and walked out of the hotel penthouse.

No matter how different our opinions might be, he was still one of the tyrants of this high-speed era. At the very least, I had to show some courtesy.

The minimum courtesy I should show him might not be bowing my head in greeting, but rather proving my worth by killing the Copyright Department.

In the elevator, I turn on my computational assistant, which I had set to do-not-disturb mode until now. I check once more the materials sent from Talent & Tradition’s Legal Assassination Department.

The locations of the assassins who survived, or were allowed to survive, their assassination operations were already being tracked. They were gathering in one place. They were gathering toward their center.

Thinking about it, they’re terribly similar. The chairman who killed his idol because he had become weak, the Copyright Department trying to kill Polaris, the pinnacle of the industry, for showing weakness—they’re all cut from the same cloth.