Ch.313The Fifth Twilight of the Idol – Faces Beneath the Mask (2)

The box was still about two-thirds full of liquor bottles. Dean, who had completely closed the lid of the ammunition crate, put his foot on it and let out a deep sigh.

“Thank goodness. What a relief. Do you know what I was thinking of doing today? I was going to pull out my social blade if you turned out to be someone who wouldn’t listen to reason. Needless worry, I guess.”

He must have been serious. The social blade carelessly tossed onto the box was ready to be used at any moment. Its reflective surface was enough to give me goosebumps.

But anyway, it hadn’t come to that. So now it was something we could laugh about. I decided to defuse the situation with humor, pretending there had never been any possibility of a fight.

“That would have been sad, Dean. Because I would have won. Or, to put it in your terms… I would have been stubborn for one more day. Don’t you think?”

Dean burst out laughing as if I was being ridiculous, then tossed an empty bottle in my direction. I caught it without even looking and set it down on the floor.

“You’re such a cocky bastard. For someone talking like that, if we had actually fought, you would have figured out why I was trying to cut you down within minutes and said you’re different from the other tyrants, wouldn’t you?”

“Dean, you’re a friend. Someone who believes every cloud has a silver lining is much better than someone who believes in nothing at all. It’s better to try talking to someone like that than to kill them without thinking, right?”

It had always been that way. I always tried to save those who believed something was better than nothing, and I always trusted those I decided to trust until the end. This time was no different… and this simple principle still held its beauty today.

Dean picked up the ammunition box and stood up. He took only one social blade. I tried to hand him the second blade he’d left behind, but Dean made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue.

“Dual-wielding is impractical, Killshot. You’re from Belwether’s efficiency corps too, so why show such inefficiency in front of a friend every day? Brandon can’t handle high-frequency blades anyway.”

Was this the first time Dean called me a friend? Even if not, it felt like the first time he meant it sincerely. I was touched, but… I couldn’t lie.

Brandon was a champion from New Magers Department Store, and New Magers champions were in the business of creating entertainment by sweeping away intruders with bulletproof shields and high-frequency blades.

He might not be familiar with katana-shaped high-frequency blades like the ones Dean used, but it was obvious he would be just as skilled at handling them… but I decided to quietly pretend I didn’t know.

I got up from the sofa, gripping the social blade he had left for me. After gently pushing the sofa I’d been sitting on to the opposite wall with my foot, I connected the neural interface wire to the social blade in my hand.

While Dean’s social blade glowed with a bright neon pink light… the one in my hand began to lose its neon glow from the handle, soon leaving only a metallic high-frequency blade with no light at all.

Dean, who had been quietly watching, shook his head a few times as if unimpressed, then spoke.

“It’s not like it automatically picks the right color for each person… but do you use a transparent neural HUD too?”

“Of course I use transparent. Don’t most freelancers use transparent? It’s like… a symbol that you’ve broken free from your megacorporate contract bindings.”

At that, Dean pushed a virtual screen toward me. The HUD he used was a chaotic mix of bright pink and lime colors, as vibrant as his high-frequency blade. A personal customization.

We chatted about practical concerns like whether it hurt his eyes and other trivial matters as we got back on our bikes and headed toward Los Angeles. Since we were both sober, it wasn’t exactly drunk driving.

The dusky dawn, the whitish settled air, and the thick, stuffy smell of smoke emanating from it. This was the look and scent of my hometown, Los Angeles, as I remembered it.

It might not seem like something to miss, but it was a landscape and aroma I longed for immensely. It’s not that I loved the smell of smog. I loved this city where I could meet Eve.

Returning to Eve’s hideout, as we parked our bikes in the garage that had somehow been repaired… Dean grinned as if asking whose handiwork it was, and I gave him a friendly push on the shoulder. I was grateful.

I sheathed the social blade in the scabbard Dean had thrown me. I wished I had something I could give him too… but all I could offer was one chance at the fight he wanted.

As we came out of the garage, a familiar and welcome face was waiting, leaning against the garage door. My Eve. She looked at the two of us with slightly sullen eyes… then quietly opened her arms.

“So after working for a month, drinking with Neonsnake was more urgent than seeing your Eve, huh?”

At those words, I gently lifted my Eve into my arms, pressing our foreheads together, and hoping that all my thoughts, intentions, and emotions would be transmitted like near-field communication.

While Eve was getting reacquainted with our touching body heat and the rhythm of my heart that barely beat once every four seconds, I kept my mouth shut… only speaking when she opened her eyes and looked up at me.

“Ah, I’ll blame it all on Dean. We were riding through the wasteland when he suddenly sent a message asking for a drink, you know? If it had been after we entered Los Angeles, I would have refused, but what could I do when we met in the wasteland?”

“You’re getting more and more cunning. But, well, it’s fine. Complaining about a boyfriend having a few drinks after working for a month would make me an owner, not a girlfriend. …Let’s go to the third floor.”

As she said those last words, my Eve’s cheeks, visible through her deep blue hair, were flushed. For us, saying “let’s go to the third floor” meant “I miss you.”

It was more than just missing each other, it also meant filling the month-long deprivation sufficiently. In many ways.

Until I left the El Sueño cult, I had thought about eating some solid food as soon as I got home… but now I didn’t feel that way.

The dulling of hunger and sleep could be considered a problem with my Type IV body, but right now it was a blessing. I lifted my Eve in my arms, nodded goodbye to Dean, and headed for the stairwell.

I lightly jumped up the middle of the spiral staircase to reach the second floor, then from there, I stepped off the wall and jumped lightly to land on the third floor where the stairs ended. Whenever I jumped like this, my Eve always wrapped her arms around my neck.

Even after I threw myself onto the bed on the third floor, our private space, with Eve still in my arms, she didn’t lift her head. She just clung to me with her face buried in my neck, as if trying to steal my body heat that she hadn’t felt for a long time.

Whether it was a reaction to not seeing each other for a while, my Eve pressed her canines into my neck skin, which wouldn’t leave marks, and gnawed gently as if she was going to bite. It’s a shame I couldn’t feel the pain.

The way to detach her from gnawing at my neck was simple. A loving caress was enough. Whether it was her head or face, she would lean slightly toward wherever my hand touched.

This time too, as I slowly caressed her and gradually moved my hand away, she slowly lifted her face, trying to nuzzle into my palm. Soon she raised her head completely and spoke with a slightly mischievous smile.

“It’s quite vexing how you’re trying to tame me now, Arthur. And it’s doubly vexing that I want to let you do it despite knowing that. You know I’m not going to work tomorrow, right?”

“Isn’t it quite vexing that you’ve become so accustomed that you don’t blush at whatever I say anymore, unlike at first? Even biting has become quite natural for you now.”

I always end up watching my Eve when she does something. I don’t want to stop her, and though I might briefly display the dignity of being older, she naturally acts cute.

While I like that, sometimes I need to make the first move. I gently wrapped my hands around her waist and back and turned over. After laying my Eve down on the bed, I looked down at her leisurely.

Looking down at a face I usually looked up at—since she usually straddled me and I looked up at her face—was quite an enjoyable feeling… and my Eve’s cheeks quickly began to flush.

Just like that, to prevent her from escaping, I held her waist slightly lifted and lowered my head to gently leave teeth marks on her neck, just as my Eve always did. I learned about ninety percent of my force control from Eve.

After whispering “wait” several times, she finally made a “hic” sound as if holding her breath when I bit her neck, and she was terribly embarrassed by the fact that I must have heard it.

That sound and the expression of her covering her mouth with the back of her hand while fidgeting seemed to be the signal. I spent a dawn that made me forget about solid food, eight hours of sleep, and how to live in El Sueño.

If my body hadn’t been a Type IV, my back would probably have been covered in nail marks, and my neck might have been completely raw. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Type IV bodies don’t get scratched so easily.

My Eve, who had been whimpering about her sore waist, climbed onto me and asked with half-closed eyes. It’s a bit sad that I had made her develop a habit of checking.

“You really don’t have any jobs today, right? No emergency requests, not even urgent requests from people you know?”

“Of course not. Just look at the scale of my last job—it’s hard for anyone to easily hire a mercenary like that. How are Arthur-2 and Polaris getting along?”

“You’re the one who manages to do those difficult jobs well. And don’t even mention it. He took vacation days and even went to a concert, but apparently didn’t even buy tickets?”

The life of Arthur-2, who had become close enough to be invited to box seats by Mia… I could predict it well enough, but I decided not to imagine it. That guy would be showing the same courtesy regarding me and my Eve.

Instead, I let out a small laugh and nodded. We were managing to live well somehow. In a city where human life is cheap, we couldn’t bear the thought that the lives of those dear to us were cheap too.

And now… “and they all lived happily ever after” was approaching. As I slowly ruffled my Eve’s hair and then combed it back with my fingers, I spoke slowly.

“Still, I’m going to contact Manager Robin soon and go to the Panacea Meditech branch to meet the branch manager. I’ve found a way to persuade Belwether, so I’m going to tell them it’s time to change course.”

My Eve slowly blinked and met my gaze. She didn’t even care that her newly arranged hair was getting slightly disheveled as her head moved.

“And then?”

“Mr. Gunter invited me to the shareholders’ meeting. There, I’ll explain why Belwether needs to change course, make them change it to isolate Hollowwood Creek, and then…”

“After that, Hollowwood Creek will have to fear the Boogeyman too, right? They have plenty of reason to. Especially that cult leader.”

“Those monsters will come out of the closet to punish the bad children, and I’ll finally put a harpoon in the heart of the Moby Dick I’ve been chasing all this time. After that…”

I was choosing my words carefully since imagining something hopeful seemed ominous, when my Eve asked with a playful smile, as if wondering what I was expecting.

“With refugees who abandoned Hollowwood Creek after seeing their god die pouring in, what good thing are you expecting, Arthur? The work will only increase two or three times, no, two or three hundred times.”

“Unfortunately, there’s a countermeasure for that too, right? Pastor Bill Weber will get a second chance. Whether that leads to good results or bad ones doesn’t matter.”

When I mentioned Pastor Bill Weber, my Eve took a deep breath. She hadn’t parted ways with her guilt. She hadn’t killed it either. She had simply made a place for it in her life.

After that, guilt no longer tried to consume her entire life, and she could face it a bit more honestly. At least this one change was positive.

“That’s right. There’s someone who has already killed Hollowwood Creek when it went wrong once, and they’ll think you’ll stop it if it goes wrong a second time. I’d like to see what kind of place Bill wanted Creek to be too.”

“Should we get our first house in Hollowwood Creek?”

Now my Eve doesn’t display pure hatred when thinking about Hollowwood Creek. Despite all the evil deeds and fear… most of her memories were in that city.

Eve, who could now calmly acknowledge that there were a few candles of light among all that darkness, spoke in a somewhat dreamy voice.

“Maybe. Hollowwood Creek without fanaticism… well, it might be more beautiful than my prejudices suggest. Especially if it’s Bill’s Creek.”

After saying that, Eve reached out and lightly poked my cheek. She shook her hand as if the feeling was strange, then nodded her head a couple of times.

“Sometimes when I look at you, I see a giant. So high up when viewed from the ground, with a face that can’t even be seen, and a body that seems made of stone—a giant from mythology.”

“I may be taller than you, Eve, but not that much.”

At my deliberately obtuse remark, seeing my Eve pout her lips always brings a trivial pleasure. Pleasure gives me direction.

“You should learn about metaphors, Arthur. Maybe take a virtual reality lecture on poetry writing with me. Anyway, it’s funny how that stone shell crumbles so easily and out pops twenty-three-year-old Arthur Murphy.”

Though she said it was funny, her meaning didn’t seem to be that. With an affectionate expression, rubbing her deep blue hair against my chest like a cat, my Eve finally properly got up.

Touching her neck and blushing unnecessarily, Eve and I went to the bathroom to make ourselves presentable enough to go downstairs and meet Silverlining and Pastor Bill Weber.

Only then could I eat the solid food I had longed for so much while working in El Sueño. It wasn’t that satisfying. The craving for solid food was apparently just a deficiency, not a desire.

Deficiencies must be filled with what fits, like a puzzle. You shouldn’t try to fill a lack of family love with a lover’s affection, or try to fill an achievement deficiency by connecting to the Net 24 hours a day.

But desire has no predetermined map. No speed limits, no blocked roads. There is only fuel and the journey of burning that fuel. My love for Eve is fuel, not a tool.

Hollowwood Creek won’t die by the power of love. It will be killed by the incompetence of not being able to read the constantly changing landscape between megacorporations, and the isolation that leaves them with no way to respond even if they could read it.