Ch.256Work Record #036 – Under the Brightest Spotlight (3)

Panacea Meditech’s children’s hospital was more than just a hospital. It was fully equipped with facilities where children could live—in fact, “fully equipped” doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Panacea Meditech typically preferred clean, monochromatic designs, but I quite liked that this place had many rooms decorated in vibrant colors that children would enjoy.

If Panacea Meditech had raised me instead of Belwether, I would have grown up to be just as good a person as I am today. But I might never have met my Eve. Her life might have been filled with misfortune.

In that respect, I’m grateful to Belwether. This assignment didn’t require me to be on high alert or give my full concentration, so my mind kept wandering to random thoughts.

As if trying to break my concentration on these thoughts, a child approached me and held out a drawing. It seemed to be the same one they had shown to Polaris earlier.

Since I’d been standing within the camera frame the whole time, this child probably considered me someone worth approaching. I was about to just glance down when Theo’s voice sounded in my head.

“Relax, Boogeyman. The surrounding area is already secured. If we want to showcase Polaris’s gentle charisma, it might be good to show that she has gentle people around her too.”

That’s something he can’t do. Someone whose body is so damaged that they can’t even receive regenerative treatment and is essentially trapped in that exosuit can’t do such things. I slowly lowered myself to one knee in front of the child.

The child’s drawing depicted Panacea Meditech’s security team. Given the child’s skill level, it wasn’t easy to make out, but the distinctive standard-issue gas masks of Panacea Meditech made it recognizable enough.

“Do you dream of joining the security team?”

The child seemed momentarily startled by the modulated voice leaking from my helmet, but they must be used to such things. They quietly nodded and began to speak.

“When I see them during evacuation drills, they’re so cool. And when they teach us how to put on gas masks, yeah, they’re awesome.”

Words that make me recall my childhood. Although the security team at Belwether’s communal childcare facility was someone as slick as Francis, to a child’s eyes, he was still an impressive figure.

With the Belwether logo patch on his shoulder, always carrying a rifle… and the way he would become serious when a radio call came in about an approaching danger—I admired that.

I lightly tapped my display helmet to show Polaris, and she made a small gesture. The no-filming zone extended behind me. Now no camera angle could capture my face.

I removed my display helmet. After showing the child my face, which hadn’t been heavily modified, I smiled. Seeing the child’s eyes light up while looking at my Panacea rifle, I slung it over my back.

This is a killing tool. It’s just a murder weapon developed to kill even those who put on more armor and sought more protective measures to protect their own lives. It’s not cool.

“I had similar dreams. I was also a returned child of Panacea Meditech. Although I grew up at Belwether, I learned kindness from Panacea Meditech.”

“The security team uncle who visits our hospital often says that to be on the security team, you need to be kind. Why do you need to be kind? The security team is, well, supposed to be cool and good at fighting, right?”

That made me laugh. After patting the child who had come right up to me, I pretended to think for a moment before speaking. I had never forgotten the reason for kindness.

“The security team needs to become familiar with the faces of passing employees, familiar with their daily routines… and hope that those familiar people never get hurt. That mindset is what makes the security team fight.”

That’s what makes the killing bearable. A gun is a tool for killing. What I learned to become part of the security team was the art of killing. No matter how nicely you phrase it, that fact never changes.

To endure the numerous killings done as part of the security team, you need something worth fighting for. A goal like protecting the ordinary lives of ordinary people.

Since it would be difficult for the child to understand what I meant, I naturally brought my hand to my eyes, pointing to my dark brown irises that I maintained despite retiring from Belwether.

“And you know what? To join the security team, I had to change my originally blue eyes to black ones that don’t reflect light well. It’s not a position that looks particularly cool. But that’s what makes it cool.”

How cool is it to be someone who quietly maintains their position, refusing even the opportunity to show off? I didn’t think the child would understand, but I decided to say it anyway. The child’s interest was elsewhere.

For children receiving treatment in places like this, modifications and artificial bodies were synonymous with dreams and hope. This child also nodded vigorously several times at my mention of modifications. They spoke with an energetic voice.

“When I’m old enough to get modifications, I’m going to change to a tall body! I’ll make my eyes blue, and after changing my body, I’ll get a prosthetic arm too! The shiny kind that mercenaries use!”

Using a body with too much size difference from one’s original body was prohibited according to company regulations. The body easily feels a sense of disconnect, and that physical disconnect becomes mental instability.

Still, I didn’t want to rain on the child’s dreams. Dreams are dreams. Perhaps supplements that provide mental stability could be developed. Even in our era, the future is still the future.

By now, quite a few children had gathered around me. To children who might think megacorporation security teams are the coolest people imaginable, stories about security teams were fascinating.

Polaris made a bittersweet expression, pointing at me with a mischievous smile as if to say it was cheating to take all the attention. I laughed it off.

She might have heard that I was also a returned child from Panacea Meditech. She probably wanted to hear from a returned child what the world outside the hospital felt like.

The smog-covered world I saw from Belwether’s employee quarters and the world I saw in the smog outside were certainly different places, but not that different.

For a while, the word “my world” was synonymous with “Belwether,” but that fact changes easily. Just as Eve’s world changed easily, everything was simple.

“Are you curious about what it feels like to go outside the hospital?”

The children’s answers came in unison. It felt like hearing a pleasant variation of the question: what would you say to your past self if you could? After choosing my words carefully, I spoke.

“It’s not that different. Panacea Meditech will still call you ‘the most persistent kids in LA,’ and when you’re sad, you can contact your case managers. The world… isn’t as nice as it looks from here.”

These children are, after all, the children of people who have the ability to admit their kids to a megacorporation’s hospital to ensure they don’t suffer. The world is a little kinder to these children than to others.

But they shouldn’t expect too much kindness. It’s not that the world is kind—it’s just less unkind. I carefully revealed a small misdeed to the children.

The bravest, or perhaps the most curious child among them reached out and traced the words “small misdeed” written with my spec-ops hand. After waiting for the child to read it aloud, I said:

“Here, you can live with good intentions, good actions, and good words, but it might not be the same outside. The world is full of bad people, and stupid or narrow-minded ones too.”

Am I shattering their innocence? No. Don’t draw the last mark on the speedometer. If someday these children remember my words and feel what I felt from the spec-ops, that would be more than enough.

“You might have to do bad things too. The person who gave me this gun told me I’d get used to small misdeeds. And to avoid getting used to those small misdeeds… you need to be fast, certain, and smart.”

Did I need to explain in detail what that meant? Even the term “small misdeed” was an incredibly abstract concept. While I was thinking about this, the child who had shown me the security team drawing spoke up.

“What did that person do?”

That spec-ops… chose the small misdeed. Perhaps they chose the optimal method to even kill that small misdeed.

“They handled it fast, certainly, and smartly. Everyone makes mistakes, but you can move the same way to make up for those mistakes. But honestly, you don’t understand what I’m saying, do you?”

I added a natural question, and the children shook their heads. I watched with pleasure as they tried to explain my words in their own way, then put my display helmet back on.

I had been in the frame long enough. Now it was time not to overshadow Polaris’s screen time. The no-filming zone that had naturally retreated advanced again, and we moved on to the next schedule.

It was a routine schedule. We conducted a drill simulating a temporary security threat to show the children how emergency situation training works, and afterward, Polaris… donated an enormous sum.

Seeing such a large amount of money being transferred at once—more than what I received for killing Old Road—was as strange and awkward as learning that the children in this hospital could put on gas masks in an average of six seconds.

And so our schedule here ended. While Polaris descended in the exposed glass elevator with the children, Theo casually jumped from the 11th floor, and I gripped the elevator wall.

With gloves that had less friction than bare hands, I held onto the glass wall with just my fingers as we headed to the first floor. What Theo did was more impressive, but what I did was more flashy. I won’t deny it.

Polaris truly remembered all the children’s names. For a megacorporation’s security chief to do something so… humble, rather than using a computational assist device, was remarkable. That concluded our first scheduled event.

As Polaris naturally headed toward the car, she gestured to widen the no-filming zone, then tilted her head slightly toward me. After creating a silent zone, she whispered:

“I like it, Arthur. This… sensation of having two feet on the ground. We can’t forget it. We may be able to fly, but we’re still people who need to stay grounded.”

I understood what she meant as well as she did. This warmth that keeps your feet on the ground. I usually felt it from my Eve. Polaris feels it from doing good deeds.

The next schedule was one that might make even Polaris uncomfortable, or at least could be. Unlike the previous schedule that required gentle charisma, we were heading to Belwether’s Mobile Division and the Wall of Remembrance.

The Mobile Division dies for many reasons. To buy time until the Assault Division or Spec-Ops arrive, responding first to threats in urban areas, and sometimes as retaliation. Their lives protect this city.

In any case, Belwether responds thoroughly. Casualties are always either none or too many. The same applies when the casualties are security team members. We were going to see the noble end of those lives. Moreover, she belongs to T-Enter.

T-Enter and Belwether had once engaged in a corporate war. I don’t remember exactly how many years ago, but it was definitely less than ten years. The result… the corporate war ended favorably for Belwether. So it’s awkward.

Belwether wouldn’t intend to humiliate Polaris, but it’s still uncomfortable. I still remembered the apartments where corporate war veterans lived.

Belwether’s spec-ops with full-body prosthetics could easily handle Talent & Tradition’s copyright division. No, they would have thoroughly demonstrated how high-performance full-body prosthetics deal with a copyright division.

The reason Belwether won was obviously the combat power difference of their elite forces. That means there shouldn’t have been such a large war of attrition… but the problem was Talent & Tradition’s tactics.

Tactics that caused many civilian casualties were ideologically incompatible with Belwether. Belwether’s hatred runs deep and long. Regardless of whether the opponent is a megacorporation or anyone else.

With various concerns in mind, we entered Belwether’s corporate building. We arrived at the Wall of Remembrance, which I had visited when I was first hired. Even before Polaris got out, Belwether employees were already waiting.

It’s the first time I’ve felt a tightness in the back of my neck seeing Belwether employees. Inside the limousine, Polaris changed into black attire behind a screen, and drones followed around her to touch up her makeup.

This time I really had to act like a bodyguard. Belwether believes in the power of principles, not exceptions. Theo checked the surroundings, then I got out and opened the door. After holding the heavy vehicle door open, I closed it.

Theo took charge of Polaris’s close protection, while I maintained a distance that allowed me to secure a good field of vision. Perhaps it was fortunate that there was no need to speak now.

Belwether employees led Polaris to the Mobile Division’s Wall of Remembrance, and Polaris headed there to offer a brief moment of silence. I recognized some of the names inscribed on the memorial.

Theo and I quietly joined in the moment of silence. As Polaris raised her head, just as someone was about to formally welcome her to Belwether’s Los Angeles, Polaris spoke first.

“I know it’s rude, but could you also guide us to the memorial wall for victims of the corporate war with Talent & Tradition? Talent & Tradition did too many things they shouldn’t have during that corporate war.”

She says that so boldly? She was Polaris. The Polaris at the pinnacle of Talent & Tradition. It was impossible to get used to her speaking about her own company like that.

It felt similar to when I gave a lecture on efficiency to Belwether’s spec-ops after catching the Technomancer, but this was a much bolder move. In that situation, Polaris would have been on the Technomancer’s side.

Even the Belwether representative seemed to doubt their ears and asked again. It was truly exceptional behavior for a Belwether representative, but they did so. Polaris repeated:

“You seem to be wondering if this is an agreed statement, but our Talent & Tradition company values survival of the fittest. I’m at the very top of that food chain. I can make this decision.”

With that, Polaris headed by her own will to the memorial wall honoring the victims of the corporate war with Talent & Tradition. Taking a step back, she scanned all the sacrificed names at once.

It was exactly the same as when she dealt with children at the hospital. The only difference was whether she was facing life or death. But to most people, she appeared nothing short of sincere.

Until now, only regular employees assigned to escort Polaris and her entourage had been present, but following Polaris’s unexpected action, a Shepherd in formal attire walked out from the building. This was certainly a surprising situation.

If it were Belwether, they would have prescribed exactly what to say in such a situation. Polaris greeted the Shepherd with a rather aristocratic manner and naturally began to speak in a smiling voice.

“Are you the Shepherd of the LA branch? You must be. We still have unresolved feelings, don’t we? Both T-Enter and Belwether have people suffering from the aftermath of the corporate war. Those people can’t enjoy music.”

Polaris’s voice was gentle, as if she had taken a sedative. Nevertheless, the content suggested she was speaking purely for her professional purposes. She continued naturally.

“As a singer, I can’t just stand by and watch this situation, and to resolve it, someone needs to make the first move, don’t you think? Could we call it Polaris’s Gambit, Shepherd?”

Her voice, full of confidence that she could truly unravel the tangled knot of the corporate war between Belwether and T-Enter, was… certainly characteristic of Polaris.