Ch.254Work Record #036 – Under the Brightest Spotlight (1)

The Panacea Rifle was exactly as powerful as I had imagined. When I fired it at the shooting range facing the wasteland, it penetrated the target… and earned me quite an earful from the range owner.

Its power was undeniable. It could instantly pierce through armor that normal armor-piercing rounds couldn’t penetrate at distances they couldn’t reach. I wish it had been magazine-fed rather than single-shot, though I wasn’t expecting thirty rounds.

But the moment I felt its definitive power, I understood something else—why even the Copyright Department didn’t use the Panacea Rifle. Its recoil was difficult to control even with a Type 4 body.

Although the upward recoil was minimal, I could feel the rail vibrating while charging, and when firing… despite the dampened explosion sound, my body jerked upward.

It was similar to when an ordinary person fires a Small Evil. By the second shot, I managed to prevent my body from jerking, and by the third, I successfully controlled it through sheer strength, but that was my limit.

Since upgrading to the Type 4 body, I barely felt recoil from the Small Evil or Bellwether’s carbine, but with the Panacea Rifle, I felt a recoil that made even my shock-absorbing skin tingle.

The sensation didn’t last long—only a few seconds—but it was truly a long-forgotten feeling of recoil that required actual recoil control techniques.

Finally, it feels like I’m using a proper gun. At maximum output, the battery pack was depleted after exactly three shots. Wearing an enhancement suit would reduce consumption, but I’m usually unarmored.

With adjusted output, I could fire about ten shots with power that far exceeded ordinary rifles but without the monstrous railgun-level force—essentially a compromised output. The power was similarly compromised.

Any lower output wouldn’t provide sufficient force. Launching heavy tungsten projectiles requires a certain level of power, and from that point, increasing the output directly increases the power.

It wasn’t bad. After firing nine shots at maximum output and ten at compromised output, the only issue was that holes were punched not just through the target but also the safety wall behind it, with projectiles embedded in it.

The range owner who had provided us the shooting range seemed excited, recording the railgun’s firing sound beside me, but I felt I needed to apologize to him a bit.

With a sigh, I lowered the Panacea Rifle to the floor… and easily noticed that it wasn’t just the range owner watching. All the range customers were staring at Eve and me.

I suppose it’s natural they’d want to watch when some crazy person decides to test a railgun at a shooting range, even if it was facing the wasteland. After giving a brief nod, I said:

“I came to test the output of a newly acquired weapon… but I’ll compensate for the damaged facilities. You can bill Callsign Boogeyman, or if that’s troublesome…”

The range owner responded incredulously. He pushed a virtual screen mirror toward me so I could see myself holding the Pitts & Morrison railgun rifle.

“Look at what you’ve done before talking about compensation! What compensation! Do you know how many people came when they heard a freelancer was firing a railgun at this backwater range? Don’t even think about taking that bullet-marked wall!”

Right, once again I seemed to be caught by the phrase “someone of your caliber.” Is this also considered a favor from a freelancer? Anyway, strangely enough… I was able to leave that day without needing to pay compensation.

Fortunately, I had covered my face with a display helmet when entering, so even if people recognized Callsign Boogeyman, they wouldn’t recognize Arthur Murphy. I decided to consider that fortunate.

That’s how I spent the day before Polaris’s close protection detail began. I spent time with Eve, held her at her hideout, and then returned home to sleep.

It was sleep I didn’t need much of, and dreamless at that. I slowly rose with the feeling of my body lifting itself by Bellwether-era habit. I wash my now considerably modified body and prepare to go out.

It’s been a long time since I wore a formal suit. Christmas was probably the last time. I put on the heavy suit woven with bulletproof fibers. I can feel the flexible armor plates inside the suit wrapping around my body.

I holster the Small Evil connected to my suit belt and quickly check it. Its condition was perfect. I also packed the Panacea rifle I had just acquired yesterday as a secondary weapon, which could also function as a sniper rifle.

The Small Evil’s twenty-one rounds were more than enough, and it was easier to use in indoor combat than a rifle while not sacrificing much power. In fact, the Small Evil was stronger than the rifles of average thugs.

I pack two connected flash grenades inside my suit and walk out of the apartment with a noise suppressor strapped to my wrist. A Talent & Tradition company vehicle was waiting. I naturally get in.

After placing the Panacea rifle in the weapon mount in the middle of the back seat, I asked the driver. I had Chance quietly follow behind with my bike. It might be necessary.

“Could I hear Polaris’s schedule for today in advance? Yesterday was… the day I killed the Copyright Department, and Polaris gave a day of rest.”

“Ah, she rented all of New Magers for a date… Today’s schedule isn’t very busy. It starts with Polaris visiting a children’s hospital affiliated with Panacea Meditech.”

Children can’t transfer their brains into enhanced bodies. Growth is the biggest issue. Ordinary artificial bodies don’t grow. But the brains of children inside them are meant to grow.

It’s a world where any incurable disease can be simply treated by replacing the body, but that only applies to adults. Even in this era, children are still children, and fragility is still fragility.

Any insane assassin trying to attack Polaris at a children’s hospital would be stopped by Panacea Meditech. The death of a patient is practically a taboo for Panacea Meditech.

If someone endangers child patients of companies researching cures for death, remedies for loss, and methods to revive brain-dead patients… Panacea Meditech won’t be gentle either.

At present, there weren’t any such high-risk troublemakers in LA. The assassins who had fled with the Copyright Department had already all been killed by that same Copyright Department.

So I could expect a somewhat relaxed atmosphere. I nodded naturally, and the driver moved on to the next item. Regardless of who I was working for, this was Bellwether’s city.

Most people worked for Bellwether or its subcontractors, and most had experienced being saved by Bellwether’s security team at least once. There were typical places to visit.

“After that, she’ll visit the LA branch’s Mobile Division Memorial Wall. You know how Miss Polaris hates people dying. She’ll appear quite sincere in honoring those people.”

And if anyone dared to cause trouble at the memorial for Mobile Division casualties that Bellwether itself established… Bellwether would start foaming at the mouth again. A raging Bellwether is a fierce beast.

“That sounds like a destination fitting for Polaris. And for someone from Bellwether… I suppose there’s no better place to visit. Please pass along any other information you have, like potential risk factors.”

She chose quite strategically from the first item. She’s going to meet the lives that Panacea Meditech values most, and the deaths that Bellwether considers most sacred. The intention is clear.

She’s showing that she’s on both Panacea Meditech’s side and Bellwether’s side. That’s how she naturally plans to perform between two hostile megacorporations.

As always, things that seem meaningless are full of meaning with this woman. Kissing Gardner, staying at my home, even the first items on her schedule—everything follows some grand purpose.

I should say it’s somewhat admirable. I’ve only seen the Shepherd try as hard as she does to prevent misfortune and discord, and even he failed at least once.

No, perhaps Polaris has had more failures. Willingly enduring more failures, reviewing them, and modifying herself… that’s evidence that she is literally a superior human.

I head toward Polaris’s safe house in the car. There’s no trace of my killing the Copyright Department, and not even the neighbors’ whispers can be heard in what has become a quiet street.

A change befitting Polaris. I got out of the Talent & Tradition company car and gave a brief nod to Theo, who was already waiting. That was enough for a greeting. We had somehow become familiar people.

Polaris, walking out from inside the safe house, greeted Arthur Murphy rather than Callsign Boogeyman. Her outfit… honestly looks modest for someone at the pinnacle of the entertainment industry.

A flowing white off-shoulder shirt with jeans, exposing her ankles, and wearing shoes with modest heels. Seeing this outfit, one could say that Polaris has her unfortunate aspects too.

Though clearly modest clothing, it doesn’t look modest at all when Polaris wears it. At best, it appears as part of her splendor. Her voice was the same as usual.

“Good morning, Arthur. I originally wanted to give you a few more days of rest, but today starts the official schedule. Do you happen to know why I arranged the schedule this way?”

Quiz time again. I didn’t mind solving a quiz to keep my mind sharp in the morning, and since I’d already thought about it on the way here, I answered naturally.

“If the reason for meeting the lives that Panacea Meditech values most and the deaths that Bellwether honors most is obvious, it’s because the host company and the city owner don’t get along.”

That’s definitely one reason. But is that all? The Bellwether Memorial Wall seemed excessive for a mere visitor—it’s a place mainly for people with Bellwether connections.

I recall the corporate war veteran I met when I was chasing Prometheus. I remember the heavy gloom that hung over the corporate war veterans’ residential area.

He was clearly a man who had fought in the corporate war against Talent & Tradition. I continued speaking naturally so there wouldn’t be too long a pause.

“And I suppose you also intend to say that the unfortunate past between Bellwether and Talent & Tradition is just that—past—and now a settled matter.”

Only when I finished did Polaris smile. That smile, like it was showing me the way, lingered briefly, followed by a short nod.

“Many people said it was unnecessary, but still. Even if the management is different now than it was then, Talent & Tradition still needs to take responsibility.”

Given that the management is different now… perhaps the chairman who had already retired couldn’t tolerate those who dared to start a corporate war with Bellwether and returned to management.

No, saying he returned to management might be too simple. Like the Copyright Department was planning, he probably ousted the management with his own people and took over again.

I was recalling what Mr. Günter had said about responsibility when Polaris coincidentally asked something fitting. I formulated a leisurely response before answering.

“But doesn’t Bellwether mind? When I said I was voluntarily going to the Mobile Division Memorial Wall, they even said it was something to be thankful for.”

“They just don’t like giving unnecessary long lectures about responsibility to someone who already knows the word ‘responsibility’—what it is, what responsibilities to take… It’s pointless when you’ve already decided, right?”

This was typically how external politics between megacorporations worked. Although Polaris chose to visit the Mobile Division Memorial Wall rather than corporate war veterans, it was a significant move in external politics.

“Not lecturing about responsibility to someone who already knows the word. Somehow it sounds like something an elderly person would say, or someone in a high position, doesn’t it?”

Neither confirming nor denying, I shrugged. Night View might have been a Bellwether collaborator, but she was completely Talent & Tradition’s person.

Polaris, who had briefly laughed at my response, giggled again. She revealed why I was standing here in a bulletproof suit.

“You’re quite cunning. Ah, yes, Arthur. Do you know why you’re standing here in a bulletproof suit? Actually, there won’t be any real threats. The Copyright Department was practically the only one.”

Other megacorporations in the entertainment industry… H-Enter doesn’t care much about anything outside Detroit, at least not yet. N-Enter also had no reason to stop Polaris’s performance. The same goes for the rest.

If the danger had truly been eliminated, she could pay me and continue with her familiar bodyguard Theo. That would be more comfortable for Polaris.

I need to figure out what comes after the word “nevertheless.” Nevertheless, why she chose me. Nevertheless, why I’m doing close protection. What did Polaris ask me about today? Her schedule.

The reason she asked was to confirm whether I understood the subtle flow of atmosphere between Bellwether, Panacea Meditech, and Talent & Tradition. Perhaps this is a social studies lesson.

I condensed that thought into the most natural single word and said to Polaris. This might be intensive tutoring in an area where I have a comprehensive lack of ability.

“Somehow I feel like I’ve suddenly been enrolled in an audit course on Bellwether’s external politics. It’s not just my imagination, is it?”

“You seem focused on Bellwether? I was trying to give you an opportunity to face megacorporate external politics on the front lines, but you only talk about Bellwether.”

Since Polaris wasn’t an enemy anyway, and since my goal was something she couldn’t know, I decided not to be too rigid. I nodded lightly.

“That’s because as a Bellwether-certified freelancer, what I need most is knowledge of Bellwether’s external politics. I’m fortunate that my teacher has both expertise and enthusiasm.”

At my words, Polaris humbly bowed her head. Though it was more a gesture of acknowledgment than humility, she was beautiful enough to ensure all her actions would be interpreted positively.

If the first round was a moment of growth as a freelancer and Bellwether-certified mercenary, this round would be my first step toward becoming someone who could successfully execute the musical chairs operation.