Ch.261Work Record No. 037 – Keep Your Feet on the Ground but Fill Your Eyes with Stars (3)

Manager Agnes mulled over my words for a moment before setting them aside. Right now, she seemed to prefer blending in with these mercenaries who naturally engaged everyone at the table in conversation.

The drinking session was quite comfortable. Everyone at the table was in their right mind, and except for when I whispered to Manager Agnes about sexual frustration, there was no need to hear the howling of beasts.

Dealing with people who can make those bestial howls is exhaustingly difficult. With ordinary people who share a common world, you need to be considerate of them, but with your own kind, you shouldn’t.

I could happily kill unqualified individuals like Marcus Cavendish, but otherwise… it was especially true since most of them had already achieved most of what they set out to do and now reigned over their accomplishments.

They live in their own world. Rather, they’re making their world erode reality. Only logic at their level works with them; everything else simply bounces off.

Is that why Din quit being a freelancer, tired of this communication without actual communication? I didn’t want to quit freelancing, but at least gatherings like this seemed beneficial for my freelance career.

And now, I was about to face another kind of fatigue. But this was a fatigue I enjoyed. Searching through reviews of unfamiliar upscale restaurants was tiring, but it was a fatigue I could love.

Real slaughtered meat might taste worse than synthetic or cultured meat. It doesn’t matter. I could enjoy the moment of complaining about bad meat with my Eve.

The atmosphere might not be to my liking, and I might meet inefficient corporate aristocrats who view everyone as beneath them. It doesn’t matter at all. Even if it just makes for good conversation, it’s enjoyable.

This time, I didn’t need to wear a bulletproof suit to the restaurant. Dressed in my usual attire, I only carried Small Evil at my waist. Hubris was still in my bike’s storage compartment.

I casually mounted my bike and headed toward my Eve’s hideout. The ruins by the beach had the subtle sound of high-pressure water jets and the faint smell of bleach.

Belvedere must have “mowed the lawn” again. In front of the old villa where Eve stayed, a cleaning crew member was washing blood off the main gate with a pressure washer.

As my bike approached, he naturally switched his pressure washer for a submachine gun, checked my freelancer license, and gave me a three-finger Belvedere-style salute.

“Good afternoon, Freelancer. But the lawn mowing was finished this morning. Did you get the time wrong? Besides, this house isn’t gang property. It’s not exactly following company regulations, but it’s not criminal either.”

Even in the ruins, they hadn’t just purchased a house and sneaked in. Belvedere gathers this much information before killing people. They investigate even unregistered residences in the ruins before acting.

Seeing things like this makes mutant hunting seem increasingly inefficient. But since I still had one last explanation to hear from Belvedere… I decided not to worry about it for now.

“I know someone who lives here. Don’t I look dressed for an appointment?”

When I spoke in a casual, amused voice, he slowly looked me up and down. Tapping his helmet visor—the kind with strong anti-fogging features typical of the cleaning crew—he said:

“Oh, no way. Am I interrupting a freelancer’s date? Wait a moment. I have some things I was planning to handle later, so let me take care of those for you first.”

He picked up the neatly stacked body bags nearby and tossed them into his van. After quickly cleaning the spot where the bags had been and finishing up with the villa’s iron gate, he hastily departed.

After the cleaning crew passes, everything becomes clean. All that remained around Eve’s villa were the nail marks left on the ground by gang members who had somehow tried to crawl into the villa that Belvedere wouldn’t enter.

Of course, those nail marks ended in the smell of bleach. There had been bloodstains, and they had been cleaned away without anyone noticing. That was sufficient. I opened the main gate and pushed my bike into the villa.

The parking area had to be accessed from outside since the entrance from inside had collapsed. As I covered my bike with a waterproof tarp, I felt a pleasant gaze watching me from above.

“We should move, Arthur. There was so much gunfire from the morning. No, not just gunfire… so many screams. Fortunately, there were no Creek escapees right now.”

I jumped up lightly onto the railing above the parking area, smiling at my Eve’s playful suggestion to use the door instead of the window, and climbed through the window anyway. There were traces of bulletproof panels having been installed.

“Belvedere might care about residents with unclear addresses, but the ruins don’t care about that, right? Oh, should I buy you a house?”

It was obviously a joke. I wasn’t that wealthy yet. To my clients, I was a very… economical choice. I received about the same compensation for the Gardner series as I would for bodyguard work.

My Eve poked my forehead with her finger as if to say I was being cheeky. I could have dodged it, but I deliberately didn’t. I wasn’t even concentrating enough to make her finger appear slow.

“What would I become if I accepted a house from someone five years younger? I’ve saved up from mercenary work and helping Creek escapees… Even if I borrow your hand, I won’t let you contribute more than I do.”

She always wanted to be the cool older one, and regardless of whether that plan was successful, she really hated borrowing my hand. She seemed to dislike being a burden, but I found that enjoyable.

Credits can always be earned. Credits are literally just a numerical representation of value and credit. I had skills, and this world was full of clients willing to convert those skills into credits.

My Eve’s voice was sharp, but it didn’t feel biting. She was someone who would scold me whether I was Arthur Murphy or using the callsign Boogeyman.

That consistency was pleasantly comfortable. After snapping at me like that, she would naturally lean into my arms, and with an expression suggesting she would wrap her tail around my arm if she had one, she would try to explain herself.

“Sometimes when I look at you, I wonder why you’re dating me. Not that I really want to ask. I’m pretty, and though I don’t want to act this way, I’m only immature in front of you, and I have more than enough lovable qualities.”

She seemed to not want to appear curious while simultaneously having low self-esteem. I buried my smile in her hair as it escaped my lips. The tips of her ears were already red.

But it was just like Eve to have no intention of stopping. If I were to truly work miracles, I would do it for this; if I were to kill Hollowed Creek, I would do it for this scene.

“Mmm, I’m not bragging, but the same goes for you. You make every problem simple, and despite your callsign being Boogeyman, your touch has never been anything but gentle, and you have more than enough lovable qualities.”

She lifted her head from my chest to meet my gaze. Her blinking eyes were so cute that I lowered my head to press my forehead against hers. I wished our thoughts could be transmitted through near-field communication.

It fails. We can only express seventy percent of what we think, understand seventy percent of that, and interpret only seventy percent of that—an imperfect communication through which we can only convey our hearts.

“So, yes. I want you to let me do something for you too. Why does a mere twenty-three-year-old know how to tie a regular necktie, not even a clip-on? At that age, you’re supposed to ask someone for help at least once.”

Her trivial complaint made me laugh again. I showed her a virtual screen with my graduation photo from Belvedere Affiliated High School. Second place wasn’t bad. It was more gratifying than a first place earned by playing it safe.

“I’ve been tying them since high school. Besides, for college graduation, I had to wear a Belvedere security team uniform, and with a position already reserved for me, how could I not know how to tie a necktie?”

“I don’t like it, anyway… And…”

She continued talking about things I did too well on my own. The pleasant conversation continued.

The reason I never complained about killing people was that I already understood in my mind that the work had value.

I also never complained about freelance work because I either purely enjoyed the work or was doing things I couldn’t talk about. I only told her the former.

When she asked if I was plotting something related to Hollowed Creek, I calmly agreed. Then I said I was preparing a surprise gift, and after that, I smoothly added that I might have said too much already.

After watching me deflect each question, my Eve turned her head with a dissatisfied expression. She wrapped her arms around my neck, stood on tiptoe, and… bit my neck once before letting go.

It didn’t hurt. She was simply expressing her annoyance. Even in bed, when she felt her stamina was lacking, she would bite me in frustration.

Isn’t that just like a cat’s habit? I picked up my Eve and lightly jumped down from the second floor. Like Mia willingly throwing herself into Theo’s arms, Eve had become accustomed to this and no longer startled.

Her grumbling didn’t last long. She was someone whose love was too great to pretend to be upset for long. Seeing her put on her helmet first, I also wore a helmet—not the one I used for freelance work.

“That’s not the helmet you use for work?”

“Unlike Ms. Polaris, I can’t set up no-filming zones. I don’t want to avoid reporters without being able to go on dates.”

My Eve smiled contentedly behind her helmet visor. After checking the bike’s charge status, she asked, though she seemed to already know the destination:

“Ah, where were we going today? I think it was one of the shards of Nature & Nature Co.”

Shards—literally fragments of the old world. While Farmers brought back nature from the past, Nature & Nature Co. brought back places from the past.

In a way, Nature & Nature Co. was a reasonable counterpart to Farmers. Farmers only cared about bringing back nature from the past.

What a contradictory company. They had ground up mercenaries in front of me several times, yet I always used their products when dating my Eve. Perhaps it’s only natural that they can’t be defined by a single aspect.

“Irish Brent’s Pub. Didn’t you already know?”

Setting aside my perception for a moment, I asked in return to let her speak instead of me. Eve, looking slightly proud, smiled.

“Sometimes you don’t know everything, my Arthur. I prepared this because I thought you’d be touched when you heard. I’ve wanted to visit there sometime. Do you know what that means?”

“Of course. It means places you don’t want to return to are disappearing, and places you want to visit are starting to appear, right?”

Until now, there was only one place associated with the word “location” in her life: Hollowed Creek. That was a place she didn’t want to return to. She couldn’t choose places she wanted to go.

But now freedom had become natural enough that she desired to go somewhere for a date. We briefly touched foreheads while wearing our helmets, then headed to the pub.

The only thing lacking about Irish Brent’s Pub was its location. It was hardly a neighborhood tavern, being in the middle of skyscrapers, inside the N-Enter headquarters building.

Apart from that, it was clear they had put great effort into the recreation. The furniture wasn’t plastic with a wood texture but actual wood. The beer wasn’t synthetic but real, with the smell of malt. Everything here was genuine.

I couldn’t know how much effort Nature & Nature Co. had put into creating this small piece of authentic space. But what we needed to do was simple: enjoy it. The meal we ordered before drinks was excellent.

Real slaughtered meat had… a stronger chew than cultured meat. The texture of muscle cells forcibly cultivated versus those developed through natural movement was naturally different.

And above all… when spending money like this, we could be free from the fishy smell unique to synthetic food. Honestly, we devoured the first dishes we ordered as if trying to look like first-time visitors.

We naturally moved to the pub area. As soon as we sat at the bar table, the bartender slid a beer in front of me. I was about to ask if this was a service for freelancers when he tapped the wall.

Specifically, he pointed to the green, white, and orange flag on the wall. It must be Ireland’s flag. I had seen it when searching for information about the pub. He smiled and said:

“Murphy is the most common surname in Ireland, isn’t it? I may just be a pub owner… though I can’t really say ‘just,’ but anyway, you wouldn’t say a bartender can’t offer a free drink to someone from his homeland, would you?”

Apparently, I had no right to talk about cultural lag at N-Enter. This was completely unfamiliar to me. My name was just something given to me by the people who were my parents before they died, and I had no interest in it.

Yet that one name had earned me a beer. I awkwardly laughed it off. Even to me, it felt awkward. These human interactions could only be awkward.

“If I went into detail, it would be a depressing story, but anyway, the people who gave me my name never told me about that. This really feels like a drink that fell from the sky.”

“If you say that, and you don’t know your roots because of a depressing story, then yes, you deserve at least one free drink. Since the bartender ruined the mood…”

He poured a beer for Eve as well. He’s a good person. There are no bad people among those who can pour a full glass of non-synthetic beer.

“I should treat you to another. Don’t think too much about it. It was really meant well. You know?”

“I understand. I’ll enjoy the free beer.”

I still couldn’t properly remember anything about my parents. There was no cartoonish moment where words I heard in childhood suddenly came back to me. Even in this bar, the homeland of my name, I was a foreigner.

As I sat fidgeting with my glass, lost in these thoughts, Eve naturally pulled her bar stool closer to me. Leaning lightly against me, she said:

“You’re really feeling like someone who just dropped out of the sky one day, aren’t you, Arthur?”

“I’m feeling it to the bone. Is that strange?”

She chuckled leisurely. Lifting her face from my chest to meet my gaze at an angle, she smiled.

“To quote you… Since you’re someone who dropped from the sky, in a world without paths others have taken or paths anyone has taught you, you can happily go forward however you want, right, Arthur?”

The melancholy I could have swallowed alone instantly dissolved thanks to Eve’s words. Where I came from didn’t matter at all. What mattered was where I was going.