Ch.288Work Record No. 041 – Irresistible (1)

Hallowed Creek was, of course, furious. The Patriarch’s Eve had escaped, the Copies had died fighting the Inquisitor, and the Inquisitor himself had perished in the unprecedented event of being burned alive by his own flamethrower.

Yet they couldn’t hold anyone accountable. To do so would have required explaining why so many Hallowed Creek forces were near Los Angeles in the first place. Fury and silence make a more common combination than one might think.

Now it’s time to stoke the flames a bit more. Three days passed far too quickly. I deliberately arrived about an hour before the cultivation process would finish, sitting on Jerome’s sofa to wait.

The trick of escaping the cultivation chamber right as the process finishes is something I’ve done before, and even Arthur-2, who was much weaker than me, had managed it. Better to be prepared.

Until fifteen minutes before the entire cultivation process was complete, the house remained quiet. Following Jerome into his cultivation room, what was being created was… a body with somewhat reduced unnaturalness.

It looks fairly human now. Not enough to grow attached to yet. She needs the escape route I’ve provided, and I need her as a tool. She’s nothing more or less than someone in a mutual exploitation relationship.

As cultivation ends, the Patriarch’s Eve—no longer in the Patriarch’s body—slowly walks out of the chamber. She dries herself with the towel Jerome provided and, wrapped in a bathrobe, arrogantly demands:

“Mirror.”

Despite her arrogance, Jerome simply brings her a mirror, and she takes in her face properly for the first time, having only seen modeled versions until now. She checks how she looks under real light.

How can her attitude remain so completely unchanged? All that matters to the Patriarch’s Eve is… her own safety. The Patriarch simply provided that safety and gave her a glimpse of change.

Now the provider of that safety has merely changed. The luxury and pleasure can be somewhat replaced by the new body Jerome gave her, and liberation from the Patriarch along with safety guarantees could be called security.

“I like it. As you said, my original impression hasn’t changed at all, so our Boy Scout should be satisfied too. Among all those Eves with identical faces, I’ll stand out uniquely. Ha.”

Perhaps the temperament of trying to step on others to rise higher, even in trivial matters, is a survival method in Hallowed Creek. I won’t sympathize with collaborators. I’ll just use her for the purpose I saved her for.

Though she grumbles that the clothes Jerome prepared are too plain, she pulls on a shirt and jeans, and I take the Patriarch’s Eve—who is no longer the Patriarch’s Eve—out of the apartment complex. We borrowed Jerome’s car briefly. We head toward the ruins.

I take the Eve who is no longer the Patriarch’s Eve to my Eve’s hideout. The vehicle returned to Jerome’s house on its own, and now only Eve—bound to nothing yet bound here—and I remain.

As I approach the door, my Eve comes out to greet me and encounters the Patriarch’s Eve. While she makes an expression of displeasure, Reverend Bill Weber’s hologram also approaches. I push the Patriarch’s Eve toward him.

The Patriarch’s Eve, knowing her repentance wasn’t necessary, grumbled arrogantly.

“Our Boy Scout handled the Copies and the Inquisitor with my voice and authority, and now he tells me to repent to you, Bill. I’ll gladly follow whatever method keeps me alive, but… this isn’t like you.”

“It wouldn’t be like me, because this child isn’t me. He’s accustomed to this era’s violent methods and the too-fast tempo of dance music… but he’s still good and trustworthy. So there’s no reason to mind.”

The Patriarch’s Eve looked at Reverend Bill Weber’s hologram with a slight sneer. It wasn’t something he should have said. Just as I learned gentleness from him, he learned something from me.

“Soon you’ll start talking like John, Bill. So what do you want me to do here? Play along with role-playing like when you first started Hallowed Creek?”

Reverend Bill Weber spoke as if he could recognize each of the Patriarch’s Eves individually, despite them all having the same face and voice.

“I’d like you to take on the role of teacher, Tisha. Like when we started Hallowed Creek. And you needn’t worry about that. I’m… sometimes frightened by my partner’s coldness and cruelty.”

Reverend Bill Weber spoke honestly about what he felt toward me. That honesty makes him trustworthy. The Patriarch’s Eve still sneered, but… she knew she needed to cooperate.

“Well, I never liked either you or John anyway. Until now, John was the man who treated me better… but that’s no longer the case, so I can badmouth John all you want. I’m a woman with flexible thinking.”

“Who asked you to badmouth John, Tisha? Just… teach everything without holding back. How Hallowed Creek began with what intentions, how it failed, how it became corrupt, how it fell.”

Reverend Bill Weber didn’t seem interested in using the Patriarch’s Eve as a trophy. Finding a better use for her was his job, and he did it very well.

“You believe the second attempt won’t fail, Bill?”

“Strictly speaking, you shouldn’t call me that, Tisha. I’m only 42% William Weber. The remaining 58%…”

“Is the result of the quasi-resurrection system provided by Bellwether filling in randomly. You’re saying things the real Bill would never say, fake Bill.”

“Simply put, it’s the difference between William Weber and my other parts. Even more simply, it’s a variable. Isn’t that worth taking a chance on?”

The Eve who was once Tisha scoffed at his words and shrugged her shoulders. As if to say she’d do whatever he wanted, she walked into the house with what seemed like an ingrained high-class prostitute’s gait.

My Eve looked at me with a somewhat dumbfounded expression. Since she seemed to want an explanation, I closed the door after entering and told her the most important thing first.

“She can’t betray us. I completely stripped her original body and brought her here in a newly cultivated one. There’s zero possibility she’ll inform Hallowed Creek. As she said, she’s become a traitor.”

“The Patriarch’s Eve would certainly know the Patriarch shows no tolerance for betrayal… but still, why? Even the word ‘repentance’ doesn’t sound like you.”

“The Patriarch would recognize her easily. I want to give the Patriarch anxiety about his Eve becoming a traitor and building forces with Bill Weber. If that anxiety makes him make a bad move, that’s good…”

My Eve gestured for me to pause briefly, then looked straight into my eyes and spoke. Since I didn’t always think my opinions were right, I decided to pause.

Her world consisted only of the wasteland, guilt, now the acknowledgment of sin, and parts of Los Angeles, but the world I knew wasn’t much broader compared to what she knew.

“I don’t think you considered her a threat, Arthur. Still, the chances of the Patriarch sending people here to recover two Eves have increased. This place doesn’t just have me—there are other escapees too.”

The Eve who was originally named Tisha, who had gone inside the villa, came back out, placed her hand on my Eve’s shoulder and leaned against her. She whispered in a smiling voice:

“I’m very surprised to see you here, Eve. You know what I mean, right?”

My Eve shook off that touch as if it were unpleasant, leaned into my arms, and snapped back with displeasure:

“If you thought I’d still be crying pathetically, you’ll be surprised hundreds more times, so get used to it. And I have no intention of becoming friends with you.”

“Oh my, how harsh. That’s not it… John doesn’t know that you’re the broker in Los Angeles. That’s why he sent a kill squad. If he’d known it was you, he would have sent a capture squad, right?”

Come to think of it, those targeting my Eve’s broker work were Copies with submachine guns and an Inquisitor with a flamethrower. When capturing someone, deploying several reinforced suits that can withstand being hit by cars would be more effective.

“John thinks you came all the way to Bill’s villa and fled with him to go into complete hiding. Maybe he believed that because you were quite pretty when you said it?”

“You’re not thinking of negotiating with the Patriarch using that, are you?”

The Eve who was Tisha waved her hand. She began whispering with a half-airy sound as if telling a very amusing story.

“Ha! Of course not. No Eve wants to catch you. You’re pretty. You have real youth, and though you have a rebellious streak, you’re fragile. They all know they’d be replaced the moment they deliver you.”

I decided not to be too displeased by how accurate her assessment of my Eve was. It was true that the Patriarch’s Eves had been struggling for much longer than I’d been handling guns.

“Besides, I’m a traitor now. I’d rather not offer up an attractive Eve who could replace me, only to be executed under the name of martyrdom and turned into stained glass.”

Whether Tisha became the Patriarch’s Eve or remained an Eve here made little difference to her. What truly mattered to her was solely her own safety.

Is that why she’s giving information so easily? I examine her. She’s watching me, not my Eve. Her goal remains survival. She’s merely been given a new role.

Originally she was the Patriarch’s plaything, and now she’s just a mascot I created. And she must have seen how naturally I used her voice to massacre the Inquisitor and the Copies.

In the end, she was looking at me with the same eyes she would look at the Patriarch. Just as the Patriarch easily replaced Eves, she thought I would kill her and capture a new Eve if she didn’t behave to my liking.

An unpleasant assumption, but… not entirely untrue. However, I was someone who understood the phrase “if possible.” If possible, I would try to persuade the first Eve I brought and exhaust all options before trying again.

It’s not mercy. I’m simply not incompetent enough to need to repeatedly kill and silence so many people to create a mascot that would make the Patriarch anxious.

“I don’t intend to push things that far either. I’m from Bellwether, after all. If you play your assigned role well… I could give you a different ending than the other Patriarch’s Eves.”

“What kind of ending?”

“An ending where you become Tisha, not Eve.”

At my words, she let out a small laugh. Looking at me with the same gaze she had for Reverend Bill Weber, she smiled.

“You’re an idealist like Bill, Boy Scout. Why do you think I’d want my original name back?”

“Because that’s exactly what you’re sick of and want to escape from, isn’t it? The same name as others, the same life, the same face, the same body… a life where you could be replaced anytime. I can give you a simple answer to that.”

Fear easily becomes reverence. The moment a frightening entity says it will use the reason for fear for your benefit, fear immediately becomes reverence. The Eve who was named Tisha looked up at me and smiled.

“You have a talent for making people want to believe words without any basis. Now I understand why that Eve leans so naturally into your arms. Well, I suppose there’s no harm in believing you once.”

Now she gently placed her hand on my Eve’s shoulder. The body that had momentarily tensed naturally relaxed and leaned toward me. Though she still seemed likely to grumble, I needed to speak now regardless.

“Since they’ve conceded a move, shouldn’t we concede one too? I won’t ask you to become friends, but…”

As expected, my Eve grumbled, though not too severely. With her lips slightly pouted, she said:

“It’s annoying that there’s something to scold about but not really. Still… fine. I won’t expect repentance, but as long as she doesn’t cause trouble here and does what Reverend Bill asks, I won’t mistreat her. Satisfied?”

“That’s good. Oh, if you’re still worried, we could ask the mercenary company that’s currently on break. The boss is a former T-Enter freelancer, so there’s plenty of reason to trust them… and it shouldn’t be too expensive.”

Silver Lining was trustworthy. Though Dean had some concerning points… he was a good person who didn’t harbor even a hint of suspicion toward ordinary citizens like my Eve. Nothing would happen here.

He was also a rebel similar to my Eve, so perhaps creating people to protect might somewhat alleviate that anxiety. At that moment, a virtual screen appeared in my vision. It was a connection request.

It came from Fitts & Morrison, but not officially. It came personally from Mr. James. Why am I never deployed properly even once?

After gently patting my Eve’s shoulder, I went outside the villa, activated a noise canceller, and connected. Mr. James’s voice was always mechanical, but it was the most human among mechanical voices.

“Well, Boogeyman. The higher-ups think it’s not a bad plan. If we used other methods, people might say Fitts & Morrison was behind it, but religion is a means we rarely use.”

“That’s good. Should I start preparing the groundwork?”

“No, not yet. The company said they’ll provide support, but your equipment shouldn’t look like Fitts & Morrison products… so visit the R&D team first.”

Fitts & Morrison was already known for making many experimental weapons and equipment, so the R&D team of Fitts & Morrison… would create something that wouldn’t look like Fitts & Morrison equipment in any way.

“I’m quite curious about what supplies I’ll receive. Can you give me any hints?”

“The company wants to conceal your identity too, so they were thinking of providing a closed reinforcement suit… but it’s the R&D team. Our company’s at that. Don’t come expecting anything ordinary.”

Even their mainstay Lobsters weren’t such a common design. Since they performed well enough in terms of straightforward power confrontations, they were sometimes imitated.

Soon, a meeting place was set. A message was delivered saying not to wear the Boogeyman helmet… but the helmet I liked best was made into the Boogeyman helmet by Turner & Tucker.

The truth is shabby. The helmet I liked best, given to me by Mr. Günter, has somehow left its place and acquired a new name and identity as the Boogeyman’s helmet. It’s what I must do.

To appear to the dreamers—that is, the Los Soñadores gang—as something other than myself. As something trustworthy, something they want to believe in, something they don’t want to believe contains a mercenary.

Using that as a focal point to unite the wasteland gangs, the Omni Shapeshifters, the Scavengers, and the nomads, and then bringing down the Las Vegas Strip… we’ll be ready to target Hallowed Creek.