Ch.268Kanun Company Work Log Page 053 – Neither Fleeting nor Glorious (5)

People look down on purebloods. Those who were heavily modified sometimes acted as if they had forgotten the possibility that a pureblood could harm them.

Fortunately, Mine was one of those types. After blinking a few times at the lens I took out, she flashed what Pedro had described as a rather pleasant smile and waved her hand at me.

“See! I told you it’s a silly habit. But, you’re a pureblood and still a mercenary good enough for Pedro to acknowledge? Amazing~. Yes, I think it’s super-amazing! Seriously!”

Though her words were meant to lighten the mood, they contained blatant dismissal. I hadn’t considered how I might appear to someone like her. It was a rude comment.

I needed time to think, and time to do something. I awkwardly spoke while holding up the lens case I had just taken out. Honestly, I had no idea if this would work.

“Even a pureblood like me needs to be part of the conversation, right? Ah, it would be awkward to show you how I hold my eyelids open to put these in, so I’ll be right back. Which way was it? I didn’t notice on my way in…”

Now I could definitely say the atmosphere had lightened. Pedro just jerked his chin toward the first floor. He’s an enemy. I wish he wasn’t. I don’t know. He probably is. It’s all just confusing.

“It’s in the corner of the first floor. The neighborhood’s nice enough that even the bathroom is clean.”

A nice neighborhood, regardless of what angry people might think about that term… is literally a nice place. The visible areas are clean, and even the invisible parts are much better than bad or dirty neighborhoods.

If you can’t accept that fact, you’ll become lost in this high-speed era. You lose your way and sprint toward the past you remember, only to collide head-on with people rushing toward the future.

I head down to the first floor. I can’t help feeling tense when passing through the rough-looking customers. To ease the tension… I needed to think. I pull out a mental list of suspicious things.

Clearly, when I entered with Kanun Company, Pedro told the approaching drone that I was with his group. Seems there were no other seats available. Understandable, given it was lunchtime.

But what I couldn’t understand was… why none of those customers were leaving. Even though lunch hour was nearly over, none of the patrons showed any signs of departing.

On the tables… there was hardly any food left. Just dishes that needed to be cleared away, yet people were taking their sweet time. It was strange, but I couldn’t figure out why.

I enter the bathroom with its clean tiled walls, open my eyelids, and insert the lenses. After blinking a few times, the HUD adjusts to my eyes. I write a message to Mr. Arthur.

Never before had I felt so grateful for being able to ask help from Belwether’s boogeyman, whom everyone feared. Mr. Arthur would… surely come if I were in danger.

‘I’ve met those dangerous-looking people I mentioned before. It’s just a meal, so there’s probably nothing to worry about, but I’ll contact you if anything happens. Am I calling on a 4-company certified freelancer too easily?’

There was no reply. He probably assumed I’d sent this message secretly. I connect Mr. Arthur and Fitts & Morrison’s personnel management team to the emergency call button on my phone’s lock screen.

This way, I could call both with just one touch. After checking my lenses again, I walked out with my phone in hand. It would take only a second to turn on the screen and press the emergency call button.

Even with the HUD overlay, the world didn’t look that different. It wasn’t an expensive HUD anyway, and it was basically just for viewing what others wanted to show me.

Ignoring Mine, who was staring at the phone in my hand as if it were some fascinating object, I sit at the table Miguel had reserved for us. He cleared his throat and began speaking to me.

He’s an angry person. I don’t know why he’s angry. Does it feel somewhat familiar? Maybe. I couldn’t really tell. Unlike Mr. Arthur, he just seems angry for no reason.

“I don’t like that you’re a Fitts & Morrison certified partner, but fine. Pedro clearly felt he needed to look after you, so that’s why he called you here. Pedro is wise.”

Was Pedro deceiving us because… Miguel was his evangelist? The word “wise” sounded like a compliment one would give to a dog. A smart dog is still a dog.

“And working as a certified partner for a megacorporation, you must have noticed something. Those bastards are greedy. They want to tear apart the whole world and stuff it into their maws for what they believe in.”

Fitts & Morrison worshipped individual ability. As strong as possible, as fast as possible, as cunning as possible. They told us if we were going to be bastards, be the smartest and toughest bastards in this city.

For that, they provided us with equipment. For that, they offered us training programs. Even Wilderf’s flash shield was given by Fitts & Morrison. It was very much a Fitts & Morrison product.

Megacorporations have no bodies. Even if what they want is right in front of them, they need to send employees to reach for it. That’s why they think about people. Because they’re greedy, as Miguel said.

“And they don’t care at all about anyone who strays from the path to their values, about any lives! That’s why Los Angeles is like this! That’s why the world has become this mess!”

Did they really not care at all? I recalled Fitts & Morrison silently bearing our tantrums while burying the truth about my mother’s death during a mutant hunt under their own responsibility, but I kept quiet.

“Sadly, we don’t have the power to fix it. We can’t change the world, and no matter how terrible and deep our grievances are, we don’t even have a way to pay those bastards back. But…”

No. People can change the world. Even preventing Kanun Company from becoming a bullet-riddled corpse by driving an armored van into Fitts & Morrison’s building was, in its small way, changing the world.

Miguel suddenly pulled out two submachine guns from his waist. He didn’t open fire, but he aimed them at the air, just like in countless photos on his social media. He wasn’t looking at us.

Kanun Company’s colleagues were starting to feel uneasy too. I was beginning to understand why this restaurant wasn’t emptying despite lunch hour ending. Every eye in the restaurant was on Miguel.

They were all people Miguel had gathered. I wondered how Belwether or Fitts & Morrison hadn’t discovered such a large gathering, but that wasn’t important right now.

What mattered now was… that we were the First Response Team. We needed to respond. This was a city area, albeit on the outskirts. A street with many megacorporation partners.

“Even we can interfere with those bastards taking this damned path! By delaying them, delaying, bit by bit, maybe someday we’ll be able to change the world. Don’t you think? Answer me.”

It sounded like the ramblings of a madman. In my childhood, living in nationalist territory, I once saw a drug addict. He was passionately trying to convince people of his hatred for lettuce.

That’s what this felt like. Like someone who harbors automatic hostility toward names they find difficult to pronounce, he was spewing blindly hateful venom. He smiled at us.

The fact that it was a natural smile… well, you might think it inappropriate to say about a person, but it was disgusting. I couldn’t help feeling that way.

He was reducing all the kind people I had ever met to nothing. My mother, Riley, Mr. Arthur, James who was called Talos, and everyone else.

“Are you starting to feel grateful to Pedro now, Noah? Pedro saved you. Instead of becoming bullet shields for those bastards and getting shot by us, he allowed you to join us here.”

His eyes kept watching me. How long would it take him to turn those gun barrels pointed at the air toward me and pull the trigger? One second? If I were augmented, I might have been able to send a communication in that time, but I’m a pureblood.

I somewhat understood why augment supremacists called purebloods “weak flesh bags.” Miguel continued with his cheerful smile. That natural smile continued naturally.

“If you don’t agree with this cause and want to call Fitts & Morrison… don’t. Cheap mercenaries often don’t have decent software firewalls on their computational aids.”

That meant I had to do it. Since computational aids almost always have short-range communication functions enabled, hacking basic communication functions in everyday situations isn’t particularly difficult.

While patting Wilderf’s forearm as if to calm him, I made our secret hand signal. I mimicked lighting a lighter, bringing my thumb down as if striking a flame while keeping my other four fingers together.

We needed to escape. Somehow we needed to alert others and stall these… terrorists from leaving the restaurant. The idea of us subduing all these terrorists was… unimaginable.

First, I needed to divert Miguel’s attention. My lips trembled. Gun barrels, especially when facing them without a helmet, are always frightening. Chewing my fear like a cigarette, I spoke.

“What, what happened to you, Miguel? I… Fitts & Morrison killed my mother. But, wrong is wrong, right? If there’s room for consideration, we can give consideration, can’t we?”

“It’s because we give consideration and watch our step around them while they don’t give a damn about us that the world is like this, Noah! What did they tell you? Did they show you doctored CCTV footage? Huh?”

He suddenly erupted with anger. It seemed like he had some sort of anger management disorder. I felt nauseous. I felt like vomiting. Suppressing the fear that made me want to throw up, I tried speaking.

“Just answer the question, Miguel. What happened to you that…”

“You can hear a lot of stories in this city’s back alleys, Noah. Kevin, who died from a grenade thrown by Fitts & Morrison when they entered a room to subdue terrorists? What was his name again?”

When Miguel paused, Mine naturally walked over to him on her prosthetic leg that had traces of the Pathfinder logo removed. She whispered to him.

“It’s Devin, Miguel. Right?”

“Yes, Devin was innocent. The O’Hara brothers were pushed against a wall and searched by Belwether’s Mobile Division even though they did nothing. And…”

He brought up stories of many people. There were clearly many terrible and tragic ones. The story of a family killed by a smart gun with targeting system issues was heartbreaking.

But I… had to ask once more. He still hadn’t answered.

“I asked you to answer the question, Miguel. What happened to you…”

“Why do you keep fixating on that, Noah? It doesn’t matter what happened to me or not. This city needs a revolutionary, and it’s right for someone with that ability to take that position.”

I began to understand why Belwether and Fitts & Morrison didn’t know about Miguel. He was… someone who had never experienced anything himself.

Having never been involved with megacorporations, he wasn’t on any dangerous persons list. He had simply taken others’ tragedies in the city’s slums and turned them into his own anger, so no one knew him.

Gathering people and buying weapons is something any mercenary might do. So neither Fitts & Morrison nor Belwether… had suspected anything. Miguel had no reason to do this.

To revive the broken atmosphere, Miguel headed toward the middle of the second floor, which was separated from the first floor by a railing. Attention shifted, and Mine briefly looked at him too. My job was to make two touches.

No, there was one more thing. I needed to buy time. This was the outskirts of the city, so probably… it would take some time for the regular Mobile Division to arrive. Would the Assault Division come too? I wasn’t sure.

We couldn’t stop all these people, but if we could just hold off Miguel, Pedro, and their elite for five minutes, Kanun would have done everything possible. I press the emergency button on my phone.

Miguel, having turned his attention away from me, was burning with determination. He seemed to be ignoring the service drone’s request to keep quiet inside the establishment. A shout erupted.

“Don’t you agree? Are you going to bow your heads again in this godforsaken high-speed era to words like ‘If you haven’t suffered anything, shut up’? Or are you going to resist, at least try?”

Amid the thunderous cheers that came in response, I secretly turn on my phone screen. I press the emergency button. At that moment… Pedro was looking in our direction.

He calls out Miguel’s name. Fortunately, I now had someone to call out to as well.

“Wilderf!”

Miguel, Mine, and everyone else turned to look at us, alerted by Pedro’s urgent voice. Wilderf had already taken his shield off his back and was holding it with both hands, channeling power through his prosthetic hand.

I turn my head completely. We need to get out first. Unlike the intense explosion of a flash grenade, the flash shield’s light was literally just a flash. There was a sound like light bulbs bursting.

Even though I had turned away, the flash was so bright that the edges of my vision nearly turned white. Everyone on the second floor covered their eyes. The effect didn’t reach the first floor. As I looked for a way out, Riley grabbed me.

Wilderf grabbed Evelyn, and Kanun’s two augmented members broke through the window and jumped out. Uncle Simon twisted his body as he threw himself through the already broken window, skillfully tossing another flash grenade.

We had some time. First, I needed to put on my helmet. How did Pedro fight? I try to remember the gang members he had killed. They all had injuries to their eyes. It must be a personal preference.

And he’s a skilled former soldier. Useless information was swirling in my head when Miguel’s angry voice erupted from inside the second floor. I finally realized one certain thing.

Whatever happens, it all came from Pedro’s compassion and my compassion. He pitied us for becoming bullet shields, and I pitied him for becoming a bullet shield. What an absurd similarity.

“They’re trying to report once they’re out of short-range connection range. We’ll catch them ourselves. The rest of you, proceed as planned!”

Could Kanun Company give everything they had to Los Angeles and would it be enough? I put on the helmet from the armored van. We needed to make a plan and move. We couldn’t win, but we could hold them back.