Ch.269Work Record #038 – Neither Fleeting nor Glorious (6)

Stephanet was spending another boring afternoon. She was leisurely enough to read “Basics of Composition” while keeping part of her consciousness monitoring all surveillance networks in the metropolitan area.

It didn’t take long for an incoming communication to interrupt that comfort, but one of those two voices was one Stephanet liked. She gladly put down her book.

“Check the surveillance around the ‘Fennec & Parrot’ restaurant on the outskirts. We got an emergency call from a partner company about a potential terrorist threat. Let me know if there are any reports you can share with me.”

“Starting with business means it must be urgent, Arthur. Alright. Just a moment…”

Stephanet’s consciousness, split into hundreds of streams, began searching for information. The silence seemed to last less than a second.

Arthur could see a virtual screen sliding into his field of vision. He could see a broken window of the two-story restaurant and a man with military implants jumping out of it.

“There are two additional reports. One is a routine notification from Fitz & Morrison that their partner company requested support, and another is a noise complaint from Fennec & Parrot.”

For the noise complaint, a drone’s automatic recording of the shouting played between Arthur and Stephanet’s consciousness. Stephanet instinctively laughed at the content of that cheap revolutionary propaganda.

In Arthur’s mind, he heard Stephanet saying two things simultaneously. Arthur had no problem interpreting both messages at once.

“Oh, please. The fact that there are still people causing terror for reasons like this… it’s absurd. It’s so outdated. What old geezer taught them to say such things seriously?”

“Mobilization and call complete. They’ll arrive in about ten minutes. The assault team will take five minutes, and I’ve also contacted available freelancers. Il Velli and Ruiner. You know them, right?”

Arthur, with a Hubris rifle slung over his shoulder, checked a small evil deed with one hand. Seeing the recorded content, he wouldn’t need anti-armor rounds, so he inserted a magazine with standard ammunition and said:

“Of course I know them. Kanun is Fitz & Morrison’s partner company, and what about their side?”

“They said they’re sending personnel too. Since their security chief’s personally designated partner company is under attack… you might even see the security chief. Should I wish you good hunting?”

“I’d prefer if you wished for Kanun’s safety. Traffic control?”

Having already come down to the parking lot since receiving Noah’s contact, no further preparation was needed. His bike started immediately, and Stephanet’s gentle voice continued.

“You think this pretty and lovely Stephanet can’t handle that much? I’ve set the optimal route and completed traffic control. I’ll wish for Kanun’s safety, so off you go. Boogeyman?”

Arthur’s bike shot out of the parking lot. The road outside the apartment complex was at a standstill. All cars were stopped and waiting, except for the space left for him to exit.

He accelerated further. Taking a wide corner at just over two hundred kilometers per hour—a speed normally reserved for wastelands—he headed toward his destination. With perfect road control, he could arrive in five minutes, just like the assault team.

Another stream of Stephanet’s consciousness remained at the Bellwether mobilization office. If she had focused more there, she might have heard more sparkling conversations, but the briefing had already ended.

Still, Stephanet particularly loved this final greeting unique to the security team. One Harrier raised his fist and shouted. The rest of the Harriers repeated in unison.

“That’s all. Even first-year rookies can do infantry-exosuit coordination. I expect perfect coordination. Even one is too many!”

“Even one is too many!”

As soon as the shout ended, two teams that had been on standby inside the building mounted their heavily armed patrol bikes and left the building. It would take some time.

The terrorists would learn why, despite hearing hundreds of times that this city had poor security, there were no famous criminals or serial crimes.

Stephanet decided to enjoy her leisure. Helping those who went to resolve the situation was something she could easily do within the consciousness she had allocated for work.

If the opponent were a hacker skilled enough to force electronic warfare on Bellwether, or if they posed that level of threat, Stephanet would have to devote her full attention to them… but they weren’t that impressive.

Could one even call it hacking to intercept a computing assistant without even a decent firewall installed? Stephanet much preferred to call such acts “connecting.”

However, Stephanet knew well that such minor skills could sometimes appear like overwhelming walls. To the novice mercenaries in her surveillance, it would seem that way.

Noah Verami was still frightened and still anxious. He was certain that his emergency support request had been received by Fitz & Morrison and Arthur, but everything else was blurry.

However, one more thing was certain… whether it was Fitz & Morrison or the Boogeyman, if Kanun could hold out until someone arrived, the situation could be resolved. Kanun’s job was clear.

The first priority was to survive and stall for five minutes. If asked which was more important between surviving and stalling… it was stalling. That’s why Kanun was a partner company.

All those business privileges, exclusive assignments, and company support were provided with the expectation that Kanun would risk their lives to buy time in situations like this. Noah now had to say something stupid.

It was a tactic that should never be used in this situation. Noah, wearing his helmet, spoke urgently as if counting the tens of seconds until Pedro or Miguel recovered from the flash. He didn’t want to say it.

“Kanun, scatter! Miguel and November, those guys can’t afford to miss any of us. They think we haven’t reported yet. So, to buy as much time as possible…”

Their current objective was to capture Kanun, not attack civilians. If Kanun fled, they would definitely pursue. Noah continued with a bit more confidence.

At that moment, Fitz & Morrison responded through the helmet’s communicator. It was James McKernihy, the security chief wearing a Talos exosuit. It was a guarantee that they only needed to hold out for five minutes.

“This is Talos. Fitz & Morrison acknowledges the emergency. Assault team ETA is five minutes. Can you hold out?”

“This is Kanun. We’ll have to. We’ll try somehow. Will anyone else be coming?”

Noah needed something to ease his mind. Since Fitz & Morrison had the dedicated communication channel, there was no proper means to connect with Bellwether.

“Yes, Noah. Those bastards won’t just be subdued—they’ll witness a fantasy football all-star match right before their eyes. Bellwether certified freelancers and the Bellwether assault team are on their way too.”

It seems Mr. Arthur has responded as well. Now Kanun really just needs to hold out. Setting aside the communication from his helmet, Noah could now speak with a voice that had found a piece of certainty.

“To buy as much time as possible, we need to scatter, and Miguel and his colleagues will have to scatter to chase us. It’s obvious they won’t have the luxury to stay together and pick us off one by one.”

What Noah had learned from Arthur was how to work organically as a team, but this time he had to abandon all those principles. Now it was all about Fitz & Morrison-style improvisation.

“Even if there are, um, casualties, that way will buy us more time. Their terrorist activities will be disrupted by chasing us, so…”

All Kanun had now was hope, certainty, some experience, and a degree of training. Moreover, what they now had to do was deception, which had little to do with their training.

No one was certain. Although Noah was afraid on behalf of all of them, no one could easily speak up. Jimon shared the responsibility that adults should typically bear.

“Evelyn goes with Wilder. Avoid open areas. Those guys die just the same if they get shot properly. But don’t get into the line of fire trying to shoot. Holding out is winning. Don’t die. Got it?”

Noah displayed a timer on his helmet’s HUD. Each passing second seemed cruel. Yet the timer remained cold-blooded. Forcing it to turn wouldn’t make the helping hand arrive any faster.

Pedro, recovering from the flash with surprising speed, jumped out the window. Kanun’s IT manager remotely controlled an armored van that began racing recklessly into the city.

Kanun scattered. The rats of the back alleys had learned how to escape through alleyways for very unpleasant reasons. Especially the kids from slums frequented by gangs.

Pedro, seeing Noah fleeing through his still blurry vision, let out a scream. It was a scream of betrayal, though he couldn’t quite tell who had betrayed him.

“Is this how you repay the kindness I showed you, you fucking corporate justice bastards!”

Words filled with human resentment and hatred tend to shake one’s heart… but Fitz & Morrison taught that if others call you a bastard, become the most skilled and cunning bastard with a smirk.

Soon Mine and Miguel also jumped lightly from the second floor. Seeing the alley entrances Pedro had pointed out, they sighed as if feeling impatient and started riding their bikes. They had no time.

They… if by chance their targets succeeded in reporting, they knew how they would die. Or rather, they clung to the belief that death awaited them without knowing exactly how. There would be no death.

What awaited Miguel and his friends was only eternal immortality and immutability. It was what everyone dreamed of, but only a terrible eternity in which even that dream would rot awaited them.

Noah still felt pity for Pedro. If only there had been a little more time for Pedro. If only this had really been an introductory meeting, and the real start was meant to be later.

While repeating countless thoughts, Noah began fleeing through the alleyways. He somewhat regretted thinking that personal bikes would have been a waste for Kanun.

As soon as Noah heard the sound of a bike following behind, he threw a flash grenade behind him as if letting it slip from his grasp. He could have just kept running, but he immediately turned a corner.

He was glad he did so. The flash grenade that he had dropped while running exploded past the corner Noah had turned, where he had intended to run. Someone had deflected it.

He didn’t even think to look back. All he could be certain of was that someone was chasing him on a bike. His grip tightened on the handle of his Bellwether standard rifle.

Should he turn at the next corner and try to fire a few shots? Running away from a bike was unrealistic, and since they were coming to the city center, he hadn’t even thought to bring thermobaric grenades.

The fact that any small wrong choice could end in death made Noah’s hands tremble. That allowed him to grip the handle even tighter. Living with fear was familiar to Noah.

While it was unfortunate that there weren’t narrow alleyways in the city district, escaping wasn’t that difficult. The opponent had to wait a moment after deflecting the flash grenade before pursuing Noah.

So, as Noah grabbed the corner of a building with one hand to turn quickly… an eerie feeling approached. Something hard and inhumanly strong was gripping him.

It was a prosthetic hand. Even as he tried to shake it off while turning, the difference in basic strength between a pure human and a modified human was severe. As the opponent threw him… Noah was hurled back toward the alley he had been fleeing from.

Fortunately, since he was wearing a helmet, his head didn’t ring, but landing on his back was terribly painful. The fact that it would hurt more tomorrow than today… might or might not be meaningful.

But he wasn’t thrown off by this. He was still firmly gripping the Bellwether standard rifle with one hand, and he managed to take aim and return fire from his hastily prone position. A result of training.

It was a very small thing, a very minor training, but it was enough of a response to be called a mercenary of Fitz & Morrison’s partner company. However, his opponent was a bit more skilled.

Miguel lowered his posture to avoid the line of fire, then approached Noah. His metal prosthetic hand grabbed Noah’s neck. While squeezing as if about to crush it, he muttered:

“Where did the rest run off to? I thought you were corporate justice bastards, but your escape skills are more like corporate justice rats. Thinking you can run away until they report…”

“If you thought Pedro and Mine would catch everyone, you wouldn’t be so anxious, Miguel. Admit it. You’re scared. Your hands are trembling and your teeth are chattering, that’s how scared you are.”

Noah was used to being afraid. After his mother’s death, the adjective “coward” always followed him. Because of this, he could read Miguel’s expression, whose mask covered his mouth, leaving only his eyes visible.

He was afraid. He was as scared as Noah himself, who feared death. Whether he was gripping Noah’s neck with a steel prosthetic hand or pointing a gun, that fact remained unchanged.

But Miguel refused to lose sight of his mission. He believed himself to be a special person. He believed he was a responsible, good person taking revenge for the people he knew.

Perhaps he only wanted to believe it. If he truly believed it, he wouldn’t fear death. Miguel’s metal fist struck Noah’s face heavily.

A pain-filled sound rang out, and Noah could feel his teeth breaking… but he could also feel that he had definitely peeled away a layer of Miguel’s pitiful belief. The timer was still moving.

Even as Miguel held Noah and thought about how to find out their location to delay the report, even as Noah’s vision blurred from lack of oxygen, the timer continued to flow cold-bloodedly.

It was cold-blooded to Noah himself, but also to Miguel. No matter how much Miguel called for operation time, the five-minute timer wouldn’t turn back the clock. This city was ruthless, but it was ruthlessly fair to everyone.

But the time that had passed was just over two minutes. Three more minutes needed to be bought. Noah moved his tingling fingertips to the holster at his waist, but Miguel was too absorbed in his own worries to notice.