Ch.290Work Record No. 041 – Irresistible (3)

“How should I put this… Would saying it’s full of energy be the most polite way to describe it?”

James responded to my carefully chosen words with a laugh. Saying it’s full of energy was inadequate to describe this atmosphere.

“You could call it a madhouse. Sometimes even I wonder if letting these guys do whatever they want with company money is actually helpful. Still…”

“Since gun recoil is a reaction force, having a reaction means there’s an equal action… With that kind of power, it would be enough to knock someone in a closed exosuit to the ground.”

Only after hearing James’s words did I look more carefully. Sonic weapons are not primarily designed to kill. The Calliope module and the speakers attached to James’s body were meant for subduing, not killing.

And once someone is subdued, you can use equipment more suitable for killing than sonic weapons with greater precision. Modified humans don’t die easily. Researching clean ways to kill them was efficient.

“Well, we’re still a long way off. Right now, you need to press the muzzle directly against the target to get that kind of power. It’s not as effective as the Calliope module or riot modules that subdue through pain.”

The reason for deliberately adding pain sensors to prosthetics or implants was simple. They provide the most intuitive way to assess damage to mechanical implants not connected to the nervous system.

That’s why pain remains pain. There are full-body cyborgs who don’t feel pain, but only perfectly trained units like Bellwether Special Ops can properly use such bodies.

“Anyway, one of the exosuit makers wants to provide an exosuit for this operation… It won’t be a normal one. It’s strictly experimental.”

As I walked deeper into the research wing listening to this, I felt a subtle change in the airflow against my skin. Something was approaching, slightly disrupting the air currents.

It was a very minor change. Even with Type 4 senses, the difference was barely perceptible. I approached whatever was blocking the airflow. When I reached out, my fingertips hit something.

A solid surface. Just as I tried to feel it, the exosuit appeared before my eyes with a flicker. I could see camera pieces similar to the optical camouflage suit I wore when working as the Gardner.

If that were all, I would have detected it more easily from the blocked airflow, but the closed exosuit’s air vents were somewhat mimicking the surrounding airflow created by the ventilation system.

Soon the back of the closed exosuit opened, and a woman wearing only an exosuit liner stepped out. She shook out a white lab coat she had kept inside the suit, put it on, and asked me with sparkling eyes:

“The optical camouflage performance was pretty perfect, wasn’t it! How did you detect it? I thought we’d already solved the refraction issues. Or not? This is why I wanted to make a metamaterial-based exosuit!”

She talks a lot. But I didn’t notice any refraction. What tipped me off was the exosuit’s vents. I tapped them lightly and said:

“The air vents seem to mimic the surrounding airflow, but the intensity settings seem off? I noticed a subtle difference in airflow, so I reached out.”

She made a face suggesting she didn’t understand the significance of the issue I’d pointed out. She remotely controlled the exosuit to close again and turn transparent. She placed her hand in front of the air vent.

But she didn’t seem to notice the subtle discrepancy I had felt, as she kept waving her hand between the air vent and empty space. Her attention naturally shifted to me.

Her straight black hair suddenly came closer, and she forcibly tried to lift my hand that had touched the exosuit. When I consciously resisted, my hand didn’t move an inch despite her efforts with both hands.

But my refusal seemed to be answer enough for her. She didn’t force it, just maintained enough pressure to test my strength without pulling. This precise control of force was characteristic of Posthuman Type IV.

“Muscle strength… no, not muscle strength. This isn’t about strength but control. Such precise force control and sensitive sensory organs—you must be Type 4, right? Could I take a sample…?”

“No. We’re busy enough without starting a patent war with Bellwether. This is the contractor I mentioned. The company believes that if we outfit him with products from this lab, he won’t look like a contractor bought from Pitts & Morrison.”

She remotely controlled the optical camouflage exosuit to reveal itself again, then spread her hands like a magician encouraging applause, gesturing to the exosuit she had been wearing. She started talking excessively again.

“Ah, so this is the item! A closed exosuit that can turn invisible! A mother bear who lost her cub and can turn invisible—how terrifying and useful would that be? This seems perfect!”

“Well, I don’t know about mother bears… but performance-wise, it looks excellent. Considering that such items are deemed impossible within the next decade, I suppose…”

She blinked her gray artificial eyes and waved her hand dismissively. She seemed to have great confidence in the exosuit she created.

“No, that can’t be! It passed durability tests with flying colors! I didn’t compromise on performance. Only one was made, but it’s a prototype superior to anything else! There’s romance in that, isn’t there?”

As she tapped the exosuit’s surface as if inviting me to hit it, I lightly punched the exosuit. It was lighter than I expected and flew quite far, but it wasn’t damaged.

The cameras on the exosuit, which walked back under her remote control, were… intact. Even for a closed exosuit, the durability of the cameras and displays was surprisingly good.

Then… there was only one answer left. Suppressing a sigh, I looked at James. Only after he nodded did I voice the most delicate question to ask in a research facility.

“It’s a cost issue, isn’t it? How much does that thing cost?”

“At least a hundred and twenty times more than the body you’re wearing, Boogeyman. The cost of covering an entire exosuit with camera panels that can withstand anti-exosuit rounds to some degree is… horrifying.”

The cost of Posthuman Type IV procedures was by no means low. It was only manageable because Bellwether sometimes offered free procedures based on individual efficiency.

In my case, although I was initially scammed, I didn’t find it strange that my entire savings from several months disappeared when the company said they would cover 98% or 96% of the cost.

The implication that this had two more zeros attached… was beyond imagination. I thought I was dealing with larger sums of money since becoming a freelancer, but it was nothing compared to how megacorporations seriously spent money.

I could somewhat empathize if even the security chief of a megacorporation called it horrifying. Still, it wasn’t something I needed to worry about right now.

My job was simply to wear that ridiculously expensive closed exosuit and complete the mission. I had experienced how useful concealment could be when working as the Gardner.

Due to being a character that needed to be captured on camera, I only properly used stealth abilities during the final sweep, but it was incredibly useful. Now I was in the position of an operative.

“Well… it’s not more expensive than the Las Vegas Strip, right? That seems sufficient to me. May I try it on?”

“Of course! We were told you were coming, so I prepared the liner too… Oh, and the exterior will look better than this, so don’t worry. Having cameras openly visible would just be bizarre!”

The researcher excitedly ran to her lab. Her research space looked like a back-alley exosuit workshop that had been ripped out and stuffed into the research wing.

Geniuses are everywhere. The job of megacorporations is to select tasks that only geniuses can do. Talent should be utilized, not suppressed.

After changing into the exosuit liner she provided, I waited as an exosuit walked toward me. This one had more precisely arranged camera panels than the one she had worn earlier.

It was much lighter and more form-fitting than what I wore during the Bellwether coup suppression. For a closed exosuit, it seemed like I could easily use conventional firearms while wearing it.

Still, it wasn’t sized for an average person. It looked to be about 210 centimeters tall, smaller than Vola but still tall. I started by aligning my feet, then felt the exosuit envelop my entire body. It was solid.

My HUD overlaid with the exosuit’s HUD, and my peripheral vision expanded slightly. No, it was more than slight. Information from all directions suddenly flooded into my mind.

This exosuit had cameras covering its entire surface. Normally this feature would exist for optical camouflage, but sending that collected information to me wasn’t even difficult.

The reason for its light weight was… to avoid compromising the optical camouflage. If it were too heavy and damaged ordinary surfaces just by walking, the purpose of stealth would be defeated.

To check mobility and flexibility, I did a light somersault with the strength assistance. It felt as comfortable as doing it bare-bodied, though slightly heavier.

Not enough to be a problem. I could even perform flexible movements like balancing upside down on one hand and lowering myself smoothly—excellent for a closed exosuit.

This research wing truly made things that Pitts & Morrison couldn’t. It was the complete opposite of their Lobsters, which focused solely on durability while limiting mobility to the point where you couldn’t even turn your head.

As I was testing the most important hand movements by flexing my fingers, she came from the back of the lab wearing just an exoskeleton frame, dragging something out.

It was a human-shaped ballistic gel dummy wearing a helmet and body armor. She smiled at me as if the fun was just beginning.

“You weren’t planning to finish performance testing with just that, were you? If you’re going to fight in that exosuit, you’ll need to throw some punches, so shouldn’t you check if it gets damaged?”

Nodding briefly at her suggestion, I made the exosuit transparent through the computing assist device and slowly walked around. Behind me, James’s eye cameras moved slightly as he watched.

Eventually, he found my position not by the cameras but by detecting the subtly unnatural airflow I had felt. If the air vents were made more natural, there would be no way to find me.

Without making any large movements, I reached out and grabbed the helmet on the ballistic gel dummy. With one hand, I crushed the standard Pitts & Morrison bulletproof helmet, combining my strength with the exosuit’s assistance.

My fingers penetrated the helmet, and the crushed ballistic gel squeezed through the gaps—a sight I would likely see countless times during this job.

As I shook off the ballistic gel clinging to my hand and prepared to remove the exosuit, the researcher stopped me again. She took a few steps forward with a somewhat arrogant gait and said:

“I have one more feature prepared, so please wait! I’ve heard about Operation El Sueño. I thought you might need some distinct visual feature… Would you like to try turning that on?”

My HUD was remotely controlled, and a menu labeled “Luminescence” appeared. When I activated it with a thought, the exosuit’s display, which normally toggled between optical camouflage and normal mode, switched to a new setting.

It wasn’t creating anything elaborate. It simply emitted an almost blinding light from the center of the facial area. Obscuring the face was a common religious ritual.

For something created solely with cameras and displays, the light was bright enough to make aiming difficult. The researcher, wearing what looked like welding goggles, laughed with delight at my appearance.

“Your callsign is El Sueño, right? Dream! Dreams are like stars, so it makes you shine like a star… and it’s simple for people to describe! Just light emanating from the center of a human silhouette.”

I’m not sure how detailed an image the brainwashing device can insert, but inserting the simplest image possible would be best. Simplicity has its own beauty.

I turned off the halo and exited the exosuit. There was no heat generation, and it was flawless as an exosuit. The only issue was that even she hadn’t been allowed to waste enough money to make weapons with optical camouflage.

If I need to engage in hand-to-hand combat or fight a full-scale battle in a lightweight closed exosuit… there will be ways to handle that. If the operation goes according to plan, I’ll always have a gang at my disposal.

After lightly shaking my head, I conveyed a few issues and requirements I noticed during the test operation.

“The exosuit is excellent, but the air vents need some work. They seem to be mimicking without accounting for the exosuit’s volume. Also, I’d like something like a cloak that can be worn over it.”

“Huh? Oh! So we shouldn’t just send the wind from behind directly to the front. The exosuit’s volume, the exosuit’s volume… What’s the cloak for?”

I smiled at her as she wrote down what I said with a rather innocent expression.

“It’s not the most efficient request, but… it could add to the mystical image, and if I throw off the cloak while activating optical camouflage, it could divert attention and make me harder to track visually.”

It’s just a means to appear as if I’m not wearing an exosuit. At just 210 centimeters, I was tall enough to look like a modification addict, so a thick coat could conceal it.

More importantly, El Sueño is just a character no different from the Gardner. Characters need character traits. The cloak is more about character than practicality, a preparation for a small twist.

“And James… could you make some videos for the brainwashing device? I’ve prepared samples—should I send them now?”

I transmitted two short videos I had prepared with Chance to James, who nodded lightly. One showed a silhouette of a person standing on a cliff with lightning striking behind them.

The other showed the name of their gang, Los Soñadores, appearing on the Las Vegas Strip. Below it was a crowd. Leading them was, again, a human silhouette.

After checking them, James clicked his tongue as if quite displeased. It couldn’t be helped. This was about creating false prophecies to become a cult leader.

“I can feel right down to my only piece of flesh that you’re trying to become a prophet. Will you be okay? That gang will… kill people while shouting your name.”

“You’re not worried that I’ll lose control, are you?”

“Quite the opposite, Boogeyman. You’re competent, so you’ll keep a tight leash on them and only let them loose when they need to kill. But even that leaves a mark on your humanity.”

I just shrugged at that. There wasn’t much to say in response, and nothing to refute… but I wasn’t particularly concerned either, so I deliberately answered slightly off-topic.

“Where in this world is there a person without scars? Anyway, I’ll be on standby, so let me know when you’re ready to work.”