Ch.304043rd Work Record – Reinforcements (1)

“How much time do we have, Chance?”

“Miss Paulina’s survival probability is clear enough to be expressed in binary. She will remain alive for a certain period, probably three days to a week, and then she will die.”

It was an obvious prediction. They had taken her to learn about El Sueño. However, she actually knew very little about El Sueño. She was merely blinded by religious delusion.

After a few days of information processing, once they determined there was nothing more to extract from her… Las Vegas Strip wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. We had to go before then.

“What’s more important is when you can begin the rescue operation. Since it will likely be an infiltration mission requiring extensive information gathering, starting right now would be too early.”

‘Slipping away while the Dreamers are caught up in the festival atmosphere would be easy, but successfully infiltrating is another matter. Still… if done right, we could sweep the entire board.’

La Roca will live. It will be accomplished. And if a man who is both a god and a gang leader truly infiltrates Las Vegas Strip from this wasteland and rescues his subordinate and follower…

Naturally, the entire wasteland would chant El Sueño’s name. That was the purpose of starting missionary work under the name of this Temple of the Spring, and it could be accomplished in one stroke.

I call Ximena over the comm. After summoning her to the office deep within The Bazaar—a place originally used by clowns but now designated for the El Sueño cult—I spoke without hiding the truth.

“Don’t you notice someone is missing, Ximena?”

“La Roca seems to be missing… but I thought perhaps you had assigned her a separate task…”

“No, she was kidnapped. She was probably captured while pursuing an escaping Los Payasos member—in other words, Las Vegas Strip’s gang operations manager.”

A hint of confusion crossed Ximena’s metallic face, but she knew that El Sueño was sitting before her.

“So, damn… It’s true we have some time because the Strip’s information processing team doesn’t have a gray matter scanner, but sitting here… No, that’s not it. That’s why you called me, isn’t it?”

Fortunately, they definitely don’t have a scanner. I had already assumed they didn’t, but it was much cleaner to get proper confirmation from an insider. There would be no disruption to the timetable.

The absence of a scanner meant Chance’s estimated survival time could be extended considerably. Without a brain scanner, there weren’t many ways to extract information.

No, in fact, any method would be useless. From the beginning, it was impossible for La Roca to tell them what they wanted since she knew nothing about me.

The only difference is that with gray matter scanning, the uselessness becomes apparent immediately; without it, that fact is revealed later.

“It must be because I’m not omniscient.”

“You’re pretending to be weak to make us seem like colleagues rather than a herd of lemmings following your guidance. That’s what I was going to say… But honestly, today too…”

In that sealed space, she was asking whether a single El Sueño coming down through the only exit couldn’t have wiped out all of Los Payasos stationed at the bazaar.

“How could that be, Ximena? I have limitations too.”

“Does someone with limitations put half the wasteland in their grasp in just ten days? Can a being with limitations make gang members who valued their lives above all else speak of joy and fulfillment?”

“Then how could an unlimited, omnipotent and omniscient being understand your emotions? How could such a being understand and embrace what you fragile ones feel, Ximena?”

At those words, Ximena could only bow her head. People always need something to depend on. Once they start depending, they try not to see the bad or weak aspects of what they depend on.

It’s much more comfortable that way. It’s easier to think that Bellwether is justice and nationalists are evil, that modification is the trend of the times and Zaina is reactionary.

But that comfort, like a pillow pressing against one’s face, easily suffocates morality. When you start overlooking things one by one to maintain belief in perfection, you eventually become a blind follower.

“Sigh, I’m sorry. It’s just easier to think that way. As for how to enter Las Vegas Strip… there’s nothing special to it. You just walk in.”

I had experienced it too. Believing Bellwether was right, then believing they were completely wrong… Only now could I say that Bellwether, too, was a vibrant mix of not just good and evil, black and white, but the entire spectrum of colors.

As Ximena said, Las Vegas Strip itself was a city open on all sides. What separated the Strip from the wasteland was atmosphere, not barriers. What mattered was where La Roca was now.

“What matters is where La Roca is… probably in the Human Resources team’s building. Since they don’t have brain scanners and their interrogation capabilities are all similar, each team operates their own separate information processing units.”

It’s remarkable they’ve survived this way. I never even thought they would each run their own separate intelligence departments… but it seems the Human Resources team is all we need to deal with right now.

Is this reasonable? It is. Seeing that hunting gangs is the Human Resources team’s job, taking over a lead gang and handling the gang landscape itself would also be their responsibility.

It was too inefficient for a Bellwether-level company, and it was actually operating inefficiently in this wasteland too… but fundamentally speaking, that’s how it was. The Strip is the Strip.

She pushed a virtual screen toward me. It showed Las Vegas Strip’s headquarters—five buildings shaped like stacked, wide, low cylinders, resembling piles of chips.

They probably didn’t intend to look like chip stacks. It was a remnant of the modular architecture commonly used in post-war reconstruction, which coincidentally matched the city’s atmosphere well.

Of course, I already had preliminary information. In this photo, the second building from the left was the Human Resources team’s building. But I deliberately didn’t mention this, waiting for Ximena to explain.

Perhaps, as she said, I wanted to hide my information sources and make the El Sueño cult appear to be my colleagues rather than blind fanatics following me. I didn’t think that was necessarily bad.

“So, the second building in the photo is owned by the Human Resources team. I’ve never accompanied anyone to the interrogation room, but it won’t be on the ground floor. Which means…”

“If the Human Resources team closes the basement door during the rescue operation, I’ll be trapped. Are you worried?”

“I’m not particularly worried. The underground facilities are connected to each other, so El Sueño could escape through another building if necessary. Is there any other information you need?”

What else can I learn from Ximena? She wore a full-body prosthesis. In the repair facilities used by full-body prosthetics like hers… there would likely be spare bodies stored.

Even if I rushed there right now, I didn’t expect La Roca to be in good condition. The ideal method would be to cultivate a body similar to her original one, but that’s too idealistic.

The best alternative I could prepare was to somehow get her to the repair department with spare bodies and transfer her into a full-body prosthesis. I needed to appear to be moving emotionally to find my follower.

But at the same time, I couldn’t actually move that way. Sorry to Paulina, but she had some time. Using that time effectively to rescue her was my responsibility.

“Is there a space for full-body prosthesis repairs in that building? With a name like Human Resources team, I’d expect there to be a place storing spare full-body prostheses.”

“Why would you… No, wait. Yes, you’d need to prepare. Good. It’s on the 5th floor. The full-body prostheses used by the Strip are mostly similar in specification except for custom pieces like mine, so there are plenty of spares.”

The concept of spare full-body prostheses wasn’t something one could easily get used to. Full-body prostheses were thoroughly personalized items. Making multiple people share one body… just feels creepy.

“But the problem is… while the underground has a clear purpose and relatively simple structure, the above-ground floors aren’t so simple. They’re designed to be so confusing that even employees get lost.”

A common measure. Bellwether’s headquarters also appeared to consist of large halls and wide corridors at first glance, but it actually had security team passages intricately intertwined.

It shouldn’t be a problem. I just need to secure La Roca’s brain from underground, go up to the 5th floor to upload it to a new body, and then leave.

As for the exit method, I just need to jump out of a window. I could jump from the 5th floor height with my bare body even without a closed reinforcement suit. Stealth might be an issue.

While I could conceal myself at will, the possibility of hiding La Roca too was low… which would mean another drawn-out chase. For La Roca’s escape… I had something.

The Witch of the Wasteland’s meta-material poncho could hide her appearance almost perfectly. Thanks to my Type 4 capabilities, I could notice the sound of cloth brushing and the curvature in the air, but the Strip couldn’t.

It would be better to borrow it from her. She would also be reassured that I wasn’t like the gods of the Extinction War era who could carelessly expend people without feeling guilt.

I needed to both reassure her and evoke nostalgia. I needed to make her remember when she was allied with a strong power that controlled the world, while simultaneously showing her that I was different from them.

The Extinction War period would have been a time of oppression for her too, but people who experience such hardships tend to paint their past in more beautiful colors than reality. I needed to use that tendency.

“Is there a way to get the internal floor plans, Ximena? If possible, things would be simpler, but if not… I might have to make you doubt my limitations again.”

“You know I wasn’t that high-ranking. I wasn’t in a position to get internal floor plans. And doubt? Whatever you say, I’ll believe it anyway.”

Is this a declaration of fanaticism, or a display of trust? All words in the world tend to have two or three meanings. Since she spoke confidently, I decided to take it as a display of her trust.

I needed a little more time for information gathering. I briefly turned on my computational assist device, requested all available information on the Las Vegas Strip Human Resources team building from Fitz & Morrison, then turned it off again.

Then I sought out the Witch of the Wasteland, who would have been observing the Dreamers conquering the Bazaar. She was outside The Bazaar, looking down at the huge crater in the wasteland where The Bazaar was located.

Slowly revealing myself to show that I had come, I approached as the Witch of the Wasteland, who had been touching the metal frame reinforcing the edge of the crater, slowly began to speak.

“Whatever your real name is, El Sueño. You didn’t come up here because you dislike seeing this old woman looking down at the crater of my era, and you’re not here to praise me either.”

She had barely participated in the recapture of The Bazaar. Since her only goal was to maintain her hideout, I hadn’t even called her. It was surprising that she had come.

“I should be grateful that you came here to observe. Yes, I’ve come because I need something, my little witch.”

The Witch of the Wasteland gestured as if telling me to drop that cringeworthy tone, but she didn’t speak. She was someone who knew I had to talk this way.

“Among the things this old woman has left, only my eyes and this cloak would be of any use… which one is it?”

“The cloak, my dear. I’d like to borrow your eyes too if possible, but a god’s work must be done by a god’s hands.”

Only then did the Witch of the Wasteland glance at me with some interest. She both understood and didn’t understand El Sueño and his paradise-proclaiming fanatics.

“Work that must be done by a god’s hands. What work? I don’t think you’d need my cloak to kill Las Vegas Strip.”

“To save someone who needs salvation. What else would divine work be?”

Amusingly, these words had always followed me. Now those words were what I heard in Los Angeles, what I said at Madeline’s Lot… and what El Sueño says in the Mojave Desert.

The Witch of the Wasteland chuckled but nodded. She seemed to finally be convinced that I was completely different from the tyrants of the Extinction War era.

“I feel like I’m seeing that young man who apologized to me so candidly again. Yes, if you’re a god who would use that war-era magic to save just one person… I can’t say that’s bad.”

Without any hesitation, the Witch of the Wasteland took off her meta-material cloak and handed it to me. She disappeared naturally, melting into the crowd of The Bazaar. She was experienced at hiding among people.

With preparations complete to safely evacuate La Roca, I just needed to wait for the opportunity to get good information from Fitz & Morrison. Until then, La Roca just needed to hold on.

She… would probably hold on. She was one of the people who had received image injections through El Sueño’s image injector for the longest time. In fact, she might have received them for the longest time of all.

El Pastor couldn’t receive the images because he had tampered with his brain while living as an undertaker, and most of the Dreamers who first used the image injector had left the hideout for the temple or through deals with the witch.

Therefore, La Roca, who had seen El Sueño striking lightning and proclaiming that the wasteland would be theirs for the longest time, and who was waiting for triumph, would wait for the rescue force until the end.