Ch.306043rd Work Record – Reinforcements (3)

‘I have a question, Chance.’

“What is it?”

‘No, it’s nothing major… but how exactly was La Roca able to see us?’

I remembered it clearly. When I waited for the interrogation room door to open and then entered through it, La Roca was looking in my direction even before I threw the interrogators.

It was almost comical to think that someone without eyes could have seen me. Even with eyes, she wouldn’t have been able to see me, yet there she was, eyeless, looking in my direction and trembling.

“It’s difficult to draw a definitive conclusion, but the entrance to the interrogation room we entered is also its only exit. If her brain created a hallucination born from her desire to escape, wouldn’t it make sense for it to appear at that exit?”

It was a reasonable explanation, but… still, I couldn’t fully accept it. That theory didn’t explain how La Roca moved through the fifth floor as if she knew exactly where she was going.

Did I really perform some kind of miracle? I stretched my hand inside my enhancement suit, but no lightning struck, no flames emerged. I was still, and naturally, just an ordinary person.

‘It’s more comfortable to think that way, isn’t it? Anyway, activate the El Sueño preset. It’s time to meet the faithful.’

This time, I decided to leave all the annoying work to Chance as I turned on my optical camouflage and walked out of my office. Though this was our second base in The Bazaar, all the faithful had gathered.

Not everyone had been converted by the Temple of the Spring Water I had sent. Including those newly devoted to the cult after hearing about La Roca’s escape, they filled the pathways built along the outer rim of The Bazaar’s pit.

As always, I revealed my silhouette starting from my hands. With my face emitting a flash of light, I raised both hands upward as if encouraging a response. The cheers that returned were now massive enough to swallow this wasteland whole.

The preparations were complete. The Las Vegas Strip would fall. The first to crumble would be… the Human Resources Department of the Las Vegas Strip, which was about to become prey after being directly attacked by me.

The target was clear, and the method simple. Just by giving direction to my faithful, the Las Vegas Strip would collapse, though there would be some sacrifices.

But this was the way to solve the problem with minimal casualties. That’s why I needed a rallying speech, and if there was one thing I’d always been good at, it was speaking.

“Where was I yesterday? Where did your god walk yesterday? Who will be my witness?”

As I began slowly, La Roca raised her hands—now made of metal instead of flesh, stained with acidic liquid and colored with red pigment like Himena’s prosthetic hands—and shouted:

“El Sueño was at the Las Vegas Strip yesterday! When I had sinned against Him and was suffering there as punishment, El Sueño came and forgave me and saved me! Humans make mistakes!”

“And God forgives!”

It was still strange to see how my casual remark had become a religious slogan. Soon, a holographic image divided into six directions appeared in the center of The Bazaar.

It showed footage of La Roca escaping from the fifth floor and out of the building. When the HR security chief appeared and a flash in midair severed his wrists and neck, everyone cheered.

When she appeared wearing the metamaterial cloak I had given her, walking out of the HR building like a free person… everyone began shouting El Sueño’s name at the top of their lungs.

It was in that moment that El Sueño was truly born. From a name called out by people who simply needed something to believe in, he had now been incarnated into reality as a god who wielded actual power.

This holographic footage was like a stigmata. It was the moment when a god was proven to be a god, and once again, the chanting of my name began to accelerate. Human language started to break down.

People were chanting El Sueño, but the sound resembled the chaotic barking and crying of ten thousand different beasts. Subtly but surely, the sound of my kindred filled the pit.

Fortunately, they weren’t rejoicing because a god was on their side. Rather, they were intoxicated by the fact that they could stand on the side of a god.

They believed they were walking the right path by abandoning cheap pleasures and living a life that knew how to enjoy and appreciate existence, so they rejoiced when I proved that fact through force.

Is this right? But the Dreamers no longer sold cheap synthetic drugs. Even in The Bazaar, stocks of stimulants were beginning to pile up. Now it was real aspiration, not substances, that fulfilled them.

I kill the weak mind that tries to justify itself at every opportunity. This is wrong. A god who questions their role and doubts themselves constantly is nothing short of unqualified to be a god.

No, a god with a human heart is unnecessary to begin with. A god need not be more or less than the grand principle of a world designed to be kind to people. So it would be right for El Sueño to disappear.

If the capricious human vanishes and only his words and principles remain… the Dreamers might be able to make the wasteland a slightly better place with the beliefs engraved in their gray matter.

As the chanting continued, Himena’s voice—somewhat anxious yet seemingly certain she had caught an opportunity—began to sound in my head. The Strip must be more fragmented than I thought.

“El Sueño, we have visitors. They seem to be… your former superiors. They say they want to repent and find a new path with El Sueño, but I’m not sure if we can trust them so easily…”

‘Fear not. What harm is there if they beg for mercy and try to buy my favor? If they have truly repented, they will be saved like the Dreamers, and if not, I will gladly use them as tools for my work.’

Of course, in the El Sueño cult, I was the one who determined whether someone had truly repented or not. They would be used as tools for the task and then discarded. Their reason for coming here was transparently obvious.

They could somehow cover up the incident. I had infiltrated quite silently, and I focused more on getting La Roca out than killing people, so perhaps they could hide just that much.

But if the El Sueño cult, which had somehow become a major power in the Mojave Desert, widely promoted that infiltration as an achievement, they couldn’t silence it. The cult’s influence had already reached that level.

Rather than being isolated within the Strip and being torn apart by competitors, it was more advantageous for them to join hands with the El Sueño cult, which could potentially overturn the Strip.

As I naturally disappeared into my optical camouflage, El Pastor began his sermon, raising his blood-covered hands. I leaped up naturally, stepping on the passages in the middle of The Bazaar as I headed toward the surface.

On the surface, along with Himena, was an unarmed emissary from the Las Vegas Strip. It was almost laughable that they came seeking cooperation while wearing a logo shaped like pursed lips, after committing betrayal.

Still, they seemed to have studied how to gauge El Sueño’s mood as much as possible in that short time. When I emerged in front of Himena, starting from my hands, they immediately knelt before me.

The hologram projector he placed in front of himself created a layer of hologram. A large man appeared, with enough bulk to rival the size of a typical modification addict.

Despite his stature, he seemed quite nervous, probably the image of an HR executive. He appeared to be choosing his words carefully before getting to the point.

“You visited us yesterday.”

“I merely went to reclaim what you had taken from me.”

Seeing me calmly acknowledge it, he finalized his strategy. His hologram slowly bowed his head in apology before me.

“There was a misunderstanding on our part. We didn’t realize they were people of the El Sueño cult and thought they were just wasteland gang members pursuing our employee, so we tried to find out who was behind it…”

If left alone, he would try to seek salvation as if I had entrusted it to him. I began to apply pressure leisurely.

“Are the Dreamers not a gang? Then why do you come to me in fear, not showing your true self but only this illusion? If the cult were merely a cult, there would be no need to worry about safety.”

There was a contradiction in his behavior, and I just needed to point it out. It wasn’t a sign of defiance. They simply wanted to get the best possible outcome from the negotiation, and I had to show them what that “best” looked like.

“No, I mean… we thought they were a gang acting on their own while borrowing El Sueño’s name. Haven’t the Dreamers ceased to be a gang now?”

“You insult me while pretending to praise my work. You believe that if you had shown your true self here, those who borrowed my name would tear you apart for not listening to my revelation.”

The word “insult” is a laughable term when it comes from someone inferior or equal to you, but when it comes from someone superior, it becomes a terribly frightening word.

“I know what you seek. Salvation. When this wave rising in the wasteland swallows the Las Vegas Strip, you hope I will spare you, just as Yahweh spared Rahab.”

Now I show them that I’ve read all their moves. It wasn’t a difficult read. Neither for a god preparing for holy war, nor for a mercenary finally planning the overthrow of the Las Vegas Strip.

To appear more like a fanatic, I added a Bible verse I had originally read to understand Hollowed Creek… and it sounded like the words of someone who truly believed himself to be a god.

He tried to manage his expression. They were aiming for one thing: to appear as collaborators rather than as beggars seeking salvation from me. I made them acutely aware of their situation.

“You are afraid. You fear being hunted by other fragments of the Strip after showing weakness yesterday, and you fear the wave of holy war sweeping through the Las Vegas Strip.”

This alone wasn’t enough. I spoke hoping that the sound of a beast’s howl would emerge from my voice. Since it wasn’t a voice I could produce at will, I always had to entrust it like this.

“I could hand you over to other organizations and take advantage of the chaos as you fight each other to cut the Strip’s throat. Or I could save you while still killing the Strip. Which would you prefer I choose?”

“Damn it… the latter, of course, El Sueño. Anyway, the moment those bastards judge us to be weak, they’ll try to tear us apart and devour us, just like they did to the Accounting Department nine years ago.”

There was virtually no sense of camaraderie. If they had known how to show mercy to each other, the situation wouldn’t have deteriorated so rapidly. It was their sin that made people unable to trust one another.

“Then, instead of acting like you’re coming to collect something entrusted to me, beg. How can one who seeks my mercy hold their head high and demand as if expecting an item of trade?”

These were words I never spoke to my faithful. These were words only for the dogs of the Las Vegas Strip, and also a promise that they would be used as tools for the task and die as such.

“This is the worst. I thought we could at least catch the last train to becoming collaborators… Fine. What do you want in exchange for the Human Resources Department’s survival, El Sueño?”

“Did I not tell you, child? Why did Yahweh spare Rahab? Help us bring down Jericho. Open the doors, let us in, and then quietly keep your head between your knees.”

It had to be handled by the cult alone to provide a suitable reason for purging them. If the HR Department truly made a significant contribution… the faithful would not find joy in purging them.

Just as even Günter with his absolute power couldn’t arbitrarily violate Bellwether’s efficiency, even I couldn’t go against the joy and appreciation I had spread. Our chains bind ourselves first.

The HR executive hesitated briefly… but eventually nodded.

“Very well. Call us when you need us. It’s not difficult to bring cult members inside by giving them temporary employee licenses. We’re the Human Resources Department, where outsiders come and go.”

It’s not over yet. If the plan for the River’s Holy War is sloppy, they might try to make the same deal with the Las Vegas Strip. Along with revealing that they’ve discovered the El Sueño cult’s operation.

Therefore, it had to be carried out unexpectedly. Only by maintaining a precarious balance of distrust and trust could the Las Vegas Strip be brought down with minimal sacrifice.