Ch.264Kanun Company Work Log Page 053 – Neither Fleeting Nor Glorious (1)

Kanun is a custom of vengeance. It was a tradition that had already been abandoned before that war, but the European Federation revived it with the start of the war. “In the spirit of vendetta and kanun,” they said.

I chose it as my company’s name because… I believed that some great evil, or something similar, had killed my mother. I believed that Fitz & Morrison had done so cruelly, or ruthlessly.

I wanted to make them pay blood price. For her kindness, her encouraging strength to those around her, her gentleness, her selflessness… I named it Kanun because I had to extract a blood price equal to all those good qualities.

But… Fitz & Morrison didn’t kill my mother. It was a mutant that used my mother to survive. Fitz & Morrison had been taking responsibility in her place.

They quietly endured Uncle Simon’s rampage and our hatred. Even though they didn’t have to. Even though they could have denied responsibility since it wasn’t their fault.

Perhaps I was the only childish one. When Mr. Arthur came forward urging us to surrender, I wondered why a Belwether affiliate employee was acting like a Fitz & Morrison lackey.

Mr. Arthur wasn’t acting as their lackey. He was using all his abilities to protect Kanun Company. Since I was just a bottom-tier mercenary then, it must have been pure altruism.

Still, I felt like I was gradually paying it back in my own way! Though not enough to say “I’m living well, no need to worry,” Kanun was surviving in its own way.

Although we were ranked 73rd out of 73 companies, a newly qualified affiliate, Security Chief James McKerney accepted Kanun as a Fitz & Morrison affiliate. It was an impulsive decision.

But listening to the story from Sin City Bitches who sent us a congratulatory gift… it seemed our recruitment followed standard procedure. We had a company.

Kanun is still collecting blood price. Not yet from the mutant who killed my mother, but from gangs and criminals who create trivial misfortunes.

Of course, while Kanun was catching those gangs and criminals, Mr. Arthur had gone from being a Belwether-certified freelancer to being certified by four companies. I didn’t even feel jealous.

Kanun had never caught big fish like the Ashwood Gang, but that wasn’t shameful. Kanun was doing what suited it in this city. Jobs that better companies wouldn’t take because of the low rates.

Los Angeles is becoming a little cleaner because of us. Because of us, immature gangs don’t grow by terrorizing people! I needed to repeat this to myself because confidence was always what I lacked.

Anyway, when heading to a job site, I need to ease my anxiety and build confidence with thoughts like these. I’m used to holding a gun and getting in the car now, but not to killing people.

Riley, who no longer uses adrenal stimulants, doesn’t show anxious expressions anymore about her heart beating worryingly fast. Someone’s touch still remains deeply in Kanun.

As I watched Riley playfully making finger guns and pretending to shoot, Uncle Simon’s voice came from the driver’s seat. We seemed to have almost arrived at the job site.

“Get ready to get out, kids. Don’t let your guard down thinking this is just another gang cleanup job, and ignore when they call us LA janitors. That’s just what losers who can’t get contracts with Fitz & Morrison say.”

The armored van stopped, and Kanun’s hacker, sitting in the corner, scouted the surroundings with a drone. Only after a safety indicator appeared on our view did we disembark, with Wilder in the lead. My feet still stumble a bit.

But the gang we were supposed to handle had already been dealt with. They had been massacred in their ruined village hideout, with the word “TRAITORS” painted in large black spray paint.

Clearly, people more skilled than us had handled them. The gang members were dead, gathered in one place. Fear still remained on their faces. Uncle Simon’s voice was heard.

“What the hell? Count the bodies first! There were eleven targets, so confirm the number matches, and then… well, I guess we should report mission completion… be careful.”

I knew what that meant without having to ask. It meant whoever executed this gang might still be here. And indeed, there were only ten bodies, not eleven.

Some had severe damage to one eye. It seemed they had been targeted while still alive. A chill ran up my spine for no reason. This job makes you see too many horrible things. I turned my head away.

The drone’s view appeared on the visor inside my helmet. Sounds were coming from the bathroom on the second floor of this villa. The sound of someone beating another person. Hitting hard enough to shake the walls.

“Found him. He’s in there. The problem is there’s no window in the bathroom, so external reconnaissance is difficult. We’ll have to check in person. But if it’s a gang, whoever dealt with them is probably a mercenary too.”

“If they’re mercenaries like us, isn’t it strange they used the word ‘traitors’? They must have had some… bond? With those gangs to call it betrayal. Let’s be careful. Yeah.”

Feeling my mouth going dry, I signaled. Again, Wilder went first, followed by Riley and Evelyn. It was enough for me and Simon to guard the rear as we moved.

Only traces of terrible acts remained inside the villa. It seemed they had gathered the subdued gang members in the living room before executing them. Deep fingernail marks remained on the stone stairs we climbed.

Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid…. I repeated to myself as we approached the second-floor bathroom. The sound of beating had stopped. A quiet voice came from behind the door.

“Too quiet to be gang reinforcements… other mercenaries? Would these guys have died even if I hadn’t come? Ah, really a wasted trip. But fine. Send in your drone. I’ll let you check.”

He removed something blocking the bottom of the door, allowing our hacker’s drone to enter. I felt uneasy. Next to the filled bathtub was a person beaten to a pulp.

They were unrecognizable as male or female. I suppressed the urge to retch. Soon a message appeared in my view confirming their identity. A true independent mercenary, not a freelancer.

According to work records, he seems to work with other mercenaries but hasn’t formed a company. Yet he massacred eleven gang members alone.

Wilder slowly opened the door. Inside stood… a man with blood-stained fists. A man with implants I’d never seen before. Impossible to tell which company they belonged to.

Implants usually have differences by company. Belwether’s can hide naturally within a human silhouette with a layer of artificial skin, while Fitz & Morrison’s are mechanical but ergonomic.

But what that man wore… had no distinguishing features except being wasteland gray. His hairstyle was also unusual—shaved on the sides and back, leaving only the top. He smiled pleasantly.

In mercenary work, you learn to fear people who smile. Mr. Arthur smiled often too, but not while working, so I didn’t have to fear him.

“For a small company, your discipline is quite rigid. Call sign November. These guys… I had some business to take care of with them. Don’t worry, I’m not asking for a share. Consider it your lucky day.”

“Did you also write ‘traitors’ outside…?”

“Ah, that was me too. In this shitty city, everyone at the bottom lives the same life, but these bastards betray people in the same situation as them, thinking they’ll achieve some kind of prosperity. Right?”

He didn’t seem to be saying that joining a gang and working for them was itself a betrayal. Seeing us staring blankly, not understanding what he meant, he laughed and said:

“I heard rumors these bastards were selling people cultivated by companies other than Panacea MediTech to Panacea MediTech for human experimentation, so I came to investigate. It’s over now.”

“That can’t be, right? If Panacea MediTech wants to do human experiments, they could just tell their cultivation team to make a few through rapid cultivation. Why would they…”

He burst out laughing at my words. Patting my bulletproof helmet like I was a child, he began to speak in a completely natural way about something that made no sense at all.

“Ah, another innocent one. This world is a cold and ruthless place, kid. You think Panacea MediTech wouldn’t punish those who take even a small slice of their pie? Hmm?”

His words provoked revulsion. Riley was kind. Fitz & Morrison knew how to take responsibility, and Mr. Arthur was gentle. All my experiences were trampled by his single statement that the world is cold and ruthless.

I tried to object, but Uncle Simon stopped me. Our job was essentially done anyway. As he said, it’s better to consider this a lucky day than to fight a man who can massacre a small gang.

Though I knew this, I couldn’t help feeling indignant. As we made way, November gave a formal thank you to Uncle Simon and left the villa. Now only we remained inside.

Uncle Simon pulled the bathroom door shut. With the heavy smell of blood leaving the air, it felt a bit more livable. Usually we do more rewarding work than this, but today felt strange.

Only after seeing November leave did Uncle Simon sigh. He pushed a virtual screen toward me. It showed Harp & Harp Company headquarters. It had been terrorized a few days ago.

Clearly, there was also spray-painted text there… and it was bloody too. Uncle Simon, though still uncertain, carefully chose his words while giving a clear warning.

“Whether that guy is responsible for this mess or not, if it is him… there’s no point in stirring things up. Contact Arthur, Noah. We need backup before getting tangled in something strange.”

Uncle Simon was cautious. Probably because of my mother’s death. Though it felt like I was using Mr. Arthur, I connected a communication channel to him. After ringing briefly, it connected.

“Ah, Mr. Arthur. Did you rest well on your holiday? We found someone suspicious while working… I thought I should let you know. It’s…”

Through his communication channel without noise cancellation, a bright woman’s voice was heard. “This book is quite a masterpiece too!” As soon as the voice cut off, noise cancellation turned on.

“Thanks. I’m still resting, but… ‘resting’ means I’ve been staring at books for four hours trying to be a somewhat cultured barbarian… so I can spare a glance. Suspicious, you say?”

It seemed impressive that a mercenary had reached the point of considering culture. I didn’t want to become a corrupted person who both blindly admires and exploits others.

“Ah, yes. When Harp & Harp Company was attacked, some guys spray-painted insults and left the scene bloody, right?”

“They did.”

“We came to deal with a gang, and… there’s something similar here. Someone wrote ‘traitors’ in huge letters, and the inside is completely bloody too.”

Is it similar? To me, it seems so. From the signature to the execution method, they used similar techniques.

“Could you take some photos of the scene and send them to me? This matter is too significant to judge just from hearing about it. Harp & Harp was a thorn in our side, but… a thorn that followed company regulations.”

Whether it was corporate justice or federal government, if someone struggled to stay within the boundaries of regulations and laws, they deserved protection no matter who they were. That was the promise and principle. I took photos of the scene and transmitted them.

However, Mr. Arthur’s opinion differed quite a bit from mine. It seems it’s not as similar as I thought. In a situation where caution is normal, perhaps I jumped to conclusions too quickly.

“The spray paint color is different too… no, the paint could be different without being an issue. They might be categorizing: pink for sexual offenses, black for this, other colors for other things.”

Was Harp & Harp painted pink? Belwether decided not to release scene photos, so I hadn’t seen them. Since he said this was unrelated, I decided to move on.

“But the handwriting is different. If they’re acting organizationally, they’d have someone specific for these warnings, and it wouldn’t differ this much. The method was also different from the last scene.”

It seems there was too little information to judge. I thought I should be relieved by this, but Mr. Arthur made a displeased sound. It wasn’t directed at me.

“If copycats are already emerging, I might have to return sooner. Any other information?”

“Ah, there was information registered in the Los Angeles mercenary network. Call sign November. And… you know those people? The ones who brag about how cruel the world is.”

“Unpleasant human being.”

Mr. Arthur’s casual remark finally made me feel my words were acknowledged. I had been a bit scared thinking he might believe the same thing.

“Right? There are so many kind people in the world. Just look at Riley or you, Mr. Arthur, and Fitz & Morrison was… kind to us too. Anyway, though we let him go since he might be dangerous…”

“You did well. It’s best not to fight when you don’t have to. And… don’t deny the cruelty, Noah. The statement that the world is heartless and cruel is an undeniable fact.”

I started to hear a voice that could only be heard occasionally. I’m not sure how to describe it. Just… a kind statement but in an angry voice. Like a wild beast angered by an invasion of its territory.

“We need to clearly recognize that in order to change it. You know how common ‘the one person who changed the world’ is these days. Anyway, I’ll finish my work as quickly as possible and return.”

It was a similar but opposite statement. Not that the world is heartless and cruel so we should be swept along, but that because the world is heartless and cruel, we should stand up and fight against it. That seemed worth engraving in my heart.

As always, Kanun Company had backup. Perhaps hope, worry, and anxiety were creeping up that we might do something more meaningful than routine lawn mowing.