Ch.271Work Record No. 038 – Neither Fleeting Nor Glorious (8)

Riley injected herself with an adrenal stimulant. It had been a long time. After the stiff feeling like drinking poison, her heart began to beat excessively.

But this time, she wasn’t injecting it out of preemptive fear. This time, she needed abilities beyond what she could exert alone. The adrenal stimulant certainly made people stronger.

At the same time, it only amplified instincts to a level that couldn’t be controlled as a human. By the time Riley felt her heart racing as if it might burst, an unbearable rage began to boil within her lips.

Noah had tried to help the person in front of her. Despite being a mercenary who suddenly appeared and took their job, she had worried whether he might be involved with strange people.

That concern shouldn’t end in such betrayal. November, or rather the pathetic Mr. Pedro, who was facing her, saw Riley’s pupils contract and spoke with familiarity.

“So megacorporations think they can give adrenal stimulants to just anyone? How stupid. They probably didn’t even tell you about the side effects…”

Perhaps he was too weak a person. He had engaged in human communication with Noah and wanted to help Noah and Kanun, but even his method of helping was pathetic.

Riley made a voice that sounded like she was chewing and swallowing. She didn’t like the characteristic trembling voice that came with adrenal stimulants, but she felt she needed to speak now.

“I know very well, so don’t worry. If something happens, I’m already saving money to buy a replacement heart. And Pedro, you’re the stupid one. Look at yourself. What are you doing?”

Riley didn’t bother to explain. Kanun could hope for something. For salvation, reinforcements, and someone to end this situation. They could hope for order to protect them.

But all Pedro could hope for was luck. Luck not to get caught. Luck not to get reported. Kill people and luckily escape. That’s all.

Misfortune despised unprepared actions like a hostess who despises rudeness. Today was no different. Clearly Noah had reported them, so someone would come soon. Riley repeated to herself.

Pedro seemed unable to find words to respond. Instead of an answer, what came was knife work so skillful that it was difficult to follow even with eyes fueled by adrenal stimulants directing all energy into fighting.

He naturally aimed for Riley’s right eye. Riley had created distance with the characteristic angular power of a modified human before ambushing Pedro, and in the process, they had both used up all their bullets. Thanks to choosing a place with many barriers.

Riley now thought she should have kept some bullets and maintained an awkward standoff, but it was too late for that. She ducked to avoid the blade that flew at her like a well-made spring snapping.

She tackled him with chemical rage and the boiling anger of being betrayed by someone they had trusted. Riley’s implants were suitable for physical combat, but not as good as Pedro’s.

Despite Riley diving in with almost no warning, Pedro reflexively pulled one foot back to keep from falling backward. Standing firmly on the ground, he pushed Riley back.

Before she could even think about why he pushed her back, Riley naturally created distance. She needed space to do anything. She needed exactly the amount of distance she wanted.

Pedro, for whatever reason, had pushed her about one and a half steps away from herself. Nothing feels worse than falling for what seems like a stupid plan.

But Pedro, despite his large build and body full of implants, was faster than Riley had expected. He kicked off the floor, eagerly closing the distance Riley had created, and aimed precisely for her eyes.

She managed to grab his wrist once, but her posture bent backward. Before she could extend her foot behind her for support, Pedro knocked her down. He flipped the knife he had been holding forward to a reverse grip and stabbed downward.

She extended her prosthetic hand with sensory feedback turned off in one palm, and blocked it with her other hand gripping the wrist of the prosthetic. The palm of the prosthetic was slightly pierced by the vibrating blade, but at least she blocked it once.

Nevertheless, Pedro showed no sign of hesitation. He knew very well that Riley was already in a state where she couldn’t resist. This time he raised the tactical dagger with both hands. He was stopped by a very slight interference.

Ruiner was holding Pedro’s wrist from behind. It was an ambiguous gesture to call it “holding.” She was merely lightly pinching it with just her thumb and the side of her index finger.

As always, she was wearing a blindingly bright pink bodysuit, but today she had at least added armor plates. The armor plates were, of course, fluorescent pink with glitter.

In the distance lay a helicopter-mounted machine gun and an ammunition bag that she seemed to have put down. When Pedro was startled by someone unexpectedly grabbing his wrist, Ruiner laughed.

She literally burst into laughter. With her other hand extended, she made a V-sign in front of Pedro’s face, waving it while grinning.

“Oh, reeeeally, I think I finally understand why the Boogeyman walks so stealthily! Everyone’s already so surprised and flustered just by me appearing, so being noisy would only make people look bored.”

Pedro tried to force his hand down, but Ruiner’s hand didn’t move. Ruiner’s grin never stopped. She was also a freelancer. She had implants that were on a completely different level from standard issue ones.

She was the type of person who would say she’d replace her full-body prosthetics because they weren’t pretty enough, but she welcomed having her muscles replaced with artificial muscles and metal cables throughout her body, then covering them with cultured skin.

Ruiner pulled down the zipper at the neck of her bodysuit to the point where it hung on her armor plates, as if denying the seriousness of the situation. She shook her head like creating a collar around her neck, exposing nearly half of her upper chest.

“Ah. Ah. Ah. You seem to be wondering where this mischievous young lady with obviously pure human breasts gets such strength, but my eyes are over here. Old man.”

Ruiner, still grinning, pointed to her two artificial eyes. They were high-end. Not made by megacorporations but from a private workshop, yet their performance was excellent.

It wasn’t just because of their excellent performance that she used them. Only they had promised to include the color, texture, and various aesthetic functions she wanted in combat-ready artificial eyes.

Pedro glanced briefly at the machine gun Ruiner had left behind. The skintight bodysuit showed no space to store additional weapons. Though Ruiner had a significant advantage in strength, only he had a weapon in hand.

Ruiner momentarily released Pedro, and immediately he rose and tried to slash at her. Ruiner struck Pedro’s neck with the hollow between her thumb and index finger. She began to overwhelm him with pure strength.

Pedro retreated, clutching his throat and coughing, then regained his posture. He took a serious fighting stance. Pedro knew well enough that he couldn’t escape anyway.

It was already unexpected that one freelancer had come here, but if it were the megacorporations, those evil capitalist aristocrats he believed in, they wouldn’t send just one freelancer for the common people.

So he believed that the longer he held out here, the more time Miguel and Mine would have to assess the situation and escape. That’s what he believed. It wasn’t true. The freelancers had all arrived around the same time. In the end, it was just terrible ignorance.

Ruiner kicked off the ground and rushed at Pedro, who instinctively took a defensive stance. But Ruiner… simply pushed Pedro back bluntly.

It was more than just a push, as it sent him rolling three times and sliding dozens of meters, but even that confused Pedro.

No, it wasn’t time to be confused. It was time to respond, but when he looked up, Ruiner was grinning with three grenade safety pins hooked on her hand.

Seeing this and looking down at himself, Pedro found three grenades made of sticky, clay-like plastic explosive attached to his chest.

He hadn’t even been able to react. He hadn’t even had a proper chance to fight. Ruiner showed Pedro the grenade hooks she had attached to the back of her waist to avoid ruining the bodyline of her suit.

It was a taunting action, one she wouldn’t have done to an enemy. To Ruiner, Pedro looked like a gang member to Belwether security team’s gang handlers. Just weeds to be cut down.

Above all, Ruiner didn’t want blood splattered on her perfect outfit during a physical fight. With such a simple whim, she had stuck all her grenades to Pedro’s chest.

He tried to scream, but the explosion was faster. It was a death neither fleeting nor glorious. What remained where he had been were only blackened bone fragments and pieces of flesh, not the image of a revolutionary.

Ruiner extended her hand to Riley, who was lying on the ground. To Riley, Ruiner’s outstretched hand looked somewhat like salvation. She even put a cheap bandage on Riley’s punctured hand.

It was a strawberry-scented item covered with childish female characters… literally a concept prop. It wasn’t good enough to have any function for repairing a prosthetic hand.

Ruiner even burst into laughter as if this was her first time using such a thing. Her actual medical bag, from which the bandage came, was dutifully filled with emergency medical supplies.

“Ah, really. If I’d known it would be like this, I should have told Gangseup and the kids to go ahead while I stayed outside shooting guns. No, wait. Is setting off a few grenades better than firing a machine gun to my heart’s content?”

Riley looked at this mercenary whose trigger-happiness had progressed beyond severe to terminal stage with disbelief. What had been a life-or-death battle for her was merely a pastime for Ruiner.

Still, she had to express gratitude. Compared to Ruiner’s complete lack of seriousness, Riley felt she might look stupid being so tense and solemn.

“I think it depends on what you prefer. I’m Riley Harper from Kanun. And you are…?”

“Terminal-stage trigger-happy, an assembly-line queen bee landmine girl who plasters everything in pink… Oh, I really like actual landmines too. Those anti-tank mines from the war era are the stuff of dreams. Anyway…”

Ruiner rattled off what were nearly slurs as if they were amusing. If she found them entertaining, nothing was a slur to her. Ruiner was a severe dopamine addict.

If someone opened her skull and created an endorphin secretion mechanism, she might experience a lifetime’s worth of pleasure in a day and die, but just as someone who likes sweets doesn’t necessarily gorge on sugar, right?

While mentally requesting a cleanup team and maintenance department—asking to exclude the nagging HR team manager—she gladly smiled like a mercenary steeped in bravado in front of Riley.

Ruiner wanted to nibble on joy like this and be pickled in dopamine. It was the principle she had set, and it was her life. No one could comment on it.

“What’s certain is that I’m the best mischievous young lady in this city. I’m Ruiner. The freelancer Belwether sent to help you. Simple, right? The boss probably got the Boogeyman, and the couple got…”

Riley’s expression brightened when she realized “Boogeyman” referred to Arthur. Ruiner sighed and muttered a small complaint: “Everyone just loves that name.”

Ruiner had expressive features and was typically someone whose mood became her attitude. Riley quickly changed the subject. Somehow she felt caught up in Ruiner’s pace.

“Those two aren’t dating. Wilder’s type is tall women with good figures and some muscle…”

Ruiner smacked Riley’s forearm with the back of her hand. Her prosthetic strength control was perfect. Despite hitting hard enough to make a sound, Riley didn’t feel any pain.

“You don’t know anything, honey. The ones who go around bragging about such preferences, how much do you think they actually like those quiet, small, stuttering girls! I’ll bet 50,000 credits they’ll be dating within a month.”

“That’s twice as much as my savings that I’ve been collecting for years.”

“Same here. It’s an account that Il-Belly created for me to save a little from each job I take, but I’m not really interested in saving, so I’m betting it all. Oh, that Il-Belly went to the couple.”

Ruiner was someone who gladly indulged in luxury. She enjoyed going to auctions for pre-war art she couldn’t even appreciate, holding a champagne bottle in one hand and shouting “500,000 credits!” loudly.

Nevertheless, Ruiner was the most free and honest person in this city. Such a person would not find it difficult to gain popularity, and with ability, it wasn’t hard to rise to this position.

Even Belwether’s HR team had assessed that while they couldn’t correct Ruiner’s destructive tendencies, she was useful. At the very least, Ruiner didn’t set off bombs on highways.

Unfortunately, only Ruiner could speak of the freelancer Il-Belly as if he were an ordinary colleague. Riley, confused by Ruiner sitting down here, asked:

“So, what kind of person is this Il-Belly? I assume they’re trustworthy enough to send two people to protect them? I mean, freelancers are all reliable, but…”

“Well, honestly, if those guys hadn’t suddenly pulled out guns in the city center, any one of us three could have wiped them all out without breaking a sweat. You know that, right?”

The reason Talos was dropping and assault troops were pouring in to stomp out the terrorists was simple: to prevent even a single civilian casualty, nothing more, nothing less.

Riley felt an ambiguous boundary between reassurance and anxiety. With a somewhat uncertain voice, she redirected the conversation to Ruiner.

“Still, it’s natural to want to know what kind of person they are, right? My colleagues’ lives depend on someone I don’t even know…”

Ruiner made a sound like fluttering her lips as if it was boring, but decided to give Riley at least a minimal explanation.

“Il-Belly… wears a full-body prosthetic. The kind of person who tries to wear a human mask. I don’t get why family and stuff is so important. Oh, and under that human mask…”

“Under it…?”

“There’s a bald head.”

Ruiner said this fact as if revealing a person’s darkest secret. For Ruiner, who either didn’t know the word seriousness or knew it so well she knew how to avoid it, this was the most serious answer.