Ch.316045 Work Record – Deceiver, Enchanter, and Obfuscator (3)

Despite the end of our contract, Silverlining hadn’t returned to their villa. They were still diligently caring for the Creek escapees at Eve’s hideout.

Perhaps this was a way for Dean to release some of his pent-up anger. Right now, the nickname “Gardner” seemed to suit him better than it did me.

More importantly, the fact that it was Neon Snake living here rather than me hiding my identity had caused several gangs to leave the ruins, while others had reduced their noise levels.

Thanks to that, Dean was playing ball with a Creek escapee child in the front yard of the villa, which he normally wouldn’t use. There were notably many children among the Creek escapees, though few were there by their own choice.

For the children, it was the only environment they’d known since birth, but not for their parents. Perhaps seeing their children endure such conditions filled the parents with guilt and horror.

I rode my bike into the villa, caught the ball Dean deliberately threw my way, and handed it to the child. I gestured toward the rooftop, and Dean naturally returned the glove to the child.

I casually joined their pleasant conversation. Logically speaking, now was a time when I could afford to be relaxed. The horse was already running at full speed, and it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the view from its back.

“Should I go inside and ask Sister Sarah for some juice? You and…”

“That kid would need to be about four times older to be similar in age to Dean, yet you call him ‘hyung’?”

Dean playfully pretended to strike me with his sheathed monowire, and I raised mine to block it. The Creek child looked around as if searching for a stick of his own.

It was an idyllic scene. One I wanted to enjoy. Though I was tempted to dismount and take in the scenery for a moment, what I needed to do now was crack the whip, not loosen the reins.

“Haa, you bastard. Kid, this mister is going to talk with this hyung for a bit. Got it?”

The Creek child nodded vigorously and ran into the villa, causing Silverlining’s hacker, dressed all in white, to groan. Their social skills weren’t particularly good either.

Only then did we jump up to the villa’s rooftop. I gathered my strength and leaped up in one go, while Dean made a light jump and then triggered his jump jets for a second boost in mid-air.

On the rooftop, Dean had already placed two sunbeds and a small table. He sat down naturally on his sunbed and asked:

“So, what’s this about?”

“I want us to work on something together. The very thing you already know about, Dean.”

Dean let out a light laugh. He still acted frivolously, but I now knew he was far from a frivolous person.

“How many days has it been since you told me ‘violence isn’t the only way,’ Killshot? Seems like you’ve changed your tune suddenly.”

“If I thought violence was the only answer, I would’ve loaded a bulletproof van with bombs, crashed it into Hollowwood Creek, blown it up, and slashed through every Adam and Eve I saw until I found the cult leader. Don’t you think?”

“Keep your bluster sounding like bluster, man. When someone who can scream their death throes like you talks like that, it’s scary rather than pathetic. I know you’ve made other efforts, but what are you trying to show me?”

I wasn’t pleased that all my efforts to reconcile Bellwether and Panacea Meditech were summed up in a single phrase like “I know,” but it wasn’t too hard to swallow.

“I want to show you how effective the kind of struggle my Eve is doing can be. Talking, finding evidence to clear up misunderstandings—all those seemingly meaningless actions that have brought down the tyrant of this high-speed era to this point.”

“This point?”

“Right here. The point where a freelancer can bring in a friend and, with help from people they know, get close enough to cut off that bastard’s head. That’s what I want to show you, Dean.”

Dean casually flicked up the shutter sunglasses he was wearing, which looked like someone had randomly splattered fluorescent pink, green, and yellow paint on them. I wondered where he always found such things.

“So you’re not saying you need my help?”

“I’m offering you a career day experience. I’ll certainly receive help, but it’s something I could do without it. It’s not that I want something from you, Dean… it’s that I want to give you something. As repayment for your social courtesy.”

A smile spread across Dean’s face. His mouth corners lifted high, and just like when I suggested he protect this villa, he began speaking with embarrassingly enthusiastic voice. This was the right direction.

“Hollowwood Creek is indeed a corruption of this era. To see that corruption crumble through agreement and dialogue rather than violence, to become vulnerable enough to be killed by two assailants with blades… I want to see that! Definitely.”

“So, will you do it?”

“Of course I will! It’s a chance to become an industry legend. There are many mercenaries sanctioned by megacorporations in this world, but are there any who’ve killed a megacorporation?”

I laughed at his words, which seemed tinged with childlike enthusiasm. I shook my head. We wouldn’t become industry legends from this. Probably, or almost certainly.

“We’ll have to be satisfied with the catharsis. Hollowwood Creek won’t be remembered as having died at our hands… but as having become obsolete after losing to Panacea Meditech in competition. It’ll remain something only we know, don’t you think?”

Dean burst into laughter as if he found my statement absurd. He lightly hit my forearm with his reinforced fist and began speaking as if sharing a secret.

“You don’t really think it can be kept secret in this industry where rumors spread so fast and people love such unofficial stories, do you, Killshot? People will know. You’ll become an industry legend. Definitely.”

“Ah, I really don’t like that… Maybe I should contact Chairman Bellwether right after the job and ask to join his security team for about five years? He’d probably approve, and it wouldn’t be a bad hideout, right?”

“It’s fifty-fifty. Either people forget about you during those five years… or! So many creative works emerge with no one to claim copyright that it becomes an undeniable unofficial story. Want to bet?”

I nodded firmly to him. Dean, wearing a form-fitting sleeveless shirt with circuit patterns over his bare body and shorts, smiled with satisfaction and drew his monowire from its sheath. He whistled.

“Since you’re betting on ‘can be hidden,’ I’ll bet on ‘can’t be hidden.’ Then I should go in and out in a spectacular way, right? No, I should go in and out in an absolutely mind-blowing way. Let me learn how to use a blade too, Killshot.”

I laughed lightly at his words and skillfully drew my monowire from its sheath. His monowire still left neon pink afterimages, while mine simply vibrated with the color of plain metal.

“Ninety percent of the jobs I’ve taken were missions where my identity wouldn’t be revealed. Among those unspeakable missions, there were definitely ones involving blade work. Want me to show you?”

Dean nodded as if his blood was boiling, then leisurely began twirling his monowire with both hands. He was skilled even with those inefficient dual blades, but now he was beyond that.

It was a moment when I truly understood why he had earned the nickname “Neon Snake.” The afterimages left in my vision never broke once, nor did they trace unnatural lines as they began coiling in the air.

We were at a fair distance apart when Dean planted his foot and his jump jets fired, approaching at a speed that was difficult to react to as he swung upward. My reaction speed was sufficient to follow. I parried.

Since we were dueling with vibrating blades without turning off the vibration, our blades repelled each other upon contact. This situation was familiar. As I tried to push forward with force, Dean momentarily released his blade.

He caught the blade that had bounced into the air with a different grip and brought down a heavy downward strike with his full weight behind it. I dodged the strike by pivoting on my toes and shifting my axis.

I knew very well how to use high-frequency blades, but there was honestly a stark difference between me and someone who had mastered old-fashioned swordsmanship on top of that. And the jump jets were quite useful too.

I had thought jump jets were simply used for vertical maneuvers to infiltrate by jumping upward, but Dean was effectively using them to steal his opponent’s timing through momentary acceleration.

Every master wishes for their disciple to step out of their shadow. I began to understand bit by bit. I analyzed and grasped the timing of when he fired his jump jets and when the blade came flying without them.

As our clashing blades bounced apart, I applied force and thrust strongly, pushing the handle of the high-frequency blade with my left palm. Dean couldn’t counter this time and dodged the attack.

I seized the timing. Dean used jump jets at times like this… to reclaim the timing. His body bounced in mid-air where an ordinary person couldn’t move, and he flew toward me with his knee raised.

When using jump jets, Dean couldn’t make sudden direction changes. With the reaction speed and strength of a Type IV, I quickly moved my center of gravity sideways, then firmly planted my feet on the ground and thrust again.

I was learning how to fight someone with superhuman abilities similar to the Posthuman Type IV I wore. The cult leader would surely be wrapped in some impressive reinforced suit. I couldn’t overwhelm him with specs alone as I had done until now.

I needed to be fast. I needed to be cunning, and I needed to stay one step ahead constantly. The light practice duel that had begun in the morning continued until evening, and well… we didn’t end up cutting each other. That makes it practice.

“Good! That’s it for today. Next time I’ll teach you iaido too. Ah, you know I’m not teaching you some cool finishing move from a manga, right?”

The feeling of having moved my body until I was tired felt good, uncharacteristically. The sensation of having completely depleted my energy was always enjoyable. A joke came naturally.

“It wasn’t?”

Though I already knew the reason, I decided to hear it from Dean’s mouth. I was too drained to explain it myself.

“Of course not, man. Sure, high-frequency blades are my main weapon, but they’re not yours, right? This is for when you need to handle close combat urgently while holding a gun. If you cut your hand while drawing hastily, you’re done for.”

He seemed like someone with his head in the clouds, yet he had quite practical concerns. I nodded properly at his words this time. Without either of us taking the lead, we lazily got up and jumped down from the rooftop.

Jumping down from the third floor was a simple matter for both of us, even in our exhausted state. My Eve, who was half-leaning against the front door, looked at us both with a slightly bewildered expression.

“Both of you, stop jumping from the roof. What if the kids see you and copy you? Why do you live as if stairs were never invented?”

It was pleasant to receive water bottles and towels that came flying with those scolding words. I caught what she threw and wiped away the sweat I had profusely shed.

I responded naturally to her words. Though she was saying now that we were living as if stairs had never been invented, there were times when she didn’t dislike such behavior.

“Well, I guess I can’t go up to the third floor anymore. If you’re telling me not to live as if stairs were never invented, I have no choice, right?”

At my grinning smile, my Eve’s cheeks quickly turned red, and she let out a groan. With her lips pressed together, she gestured to Dean as if asking him to change the subject. Was Dean still on my side?

Seeing him snickering, he seemed to be on my side, but Dean still tried to balance things out. It wasn’t a very successful attempt at balance, though.

“Ah, ahem. Yeah, ah, right! Isn’t this the first time you’ve seen this guy sweat? I just realized that even this Bellwether-made biological weapon can actually sweat…”

I answered while almost choking as I tried to hold back laughter that was about to burst out. Eve had definitely seen me sweat before. Clearly and definitely.

“No way. She’s seen it quite a few times, I’d say?”

After that pointed remark, my Eve finally broke free from my arms like a cat that had been held too tightly, and kicked my shin with no real malice but definitely with force.

I escaped to the bathroom with the excuse of washing off my sweat first to avoid another scolding from Eve, but my Eve was waiting for me when I came out. In the end, getting thoroughly scolded was unavoidable.

Whether you’re a tyrant of this high-speed era, a freelancer, El Sueño, or the Gardner, some things are simply unavoidable. I sent my Eve upstairs first, then headed to the living room on the first floor where the Creek escapees were staying.

As expected, there were four children and only two adults. I gestured to Tisha that I wanted to talk for a moment, and she stopped explaining the origins of Creek to the children and came out to the living room door.

“What is it, Boogeyman? You look like you have a favor to ask me.”

“I think I should start with a compliment. You’re doing an excellent job as a teacher, just as Bill said. And… it’s true that I have a favor to ask.”

At my compliment, Tisha gestured dismissively as if to say “enough” and leaned forward slightly as if to hear what I had to say. Her frame was similar to the cult leader’s Eves, but she looked much more sophisticated.

“Spare me the unnecessary flattery. I’ll listen to anything except asking me to go back to John or to inform on you. I quite enjoy living here. I even get to see some fools acting foolishly from time to time.”

I felt a bit sorry that I could immediately tell who she was talking about. Dean and Brandon were… honestly quite childish and foolish to observe in daily life.

“I’d like you to do some informing, actually. Can you pass some location information to the Grand Inquisitor? It’s not an important coordinate, but we’ll make it look important with a temporary structure. That is, if you have a way.”

Tisha looked at me with sharp eyes. She looked me up and down once, then spoke with the same attitude.

“Seeing you ask me to create some smoke, I’m guessing you’re about to catch the old tiger? Well, I can do it. I do have ways to inform. After all, you gave me a computational assist device in the first place.”

The computational assist device was a computer in itself. From the moment I gave it to her, there was always the possibility of betrayal… but fortunately, Tisha had chosen a path where both she and I would win.

“Still, we’ve been getting along well so far, haven’t we? I just believed you could do it. And you’ve repaid my trust.”

Tisha gestured and pretended to strangle herself once.

“I didn’t trust you, Boogeyman—I trusted the strength of your grip. But you don’t think the world will change much just because one old tiger dies, do you? Would you like some advice from an old woman?”

The voice speaking was that of a woman around my age to anyone listening. Yet she was over a hundred years old. I answered, closing this precarious gap.

“Nothing will change, but I’ll be able to date more comfortably. That was the goal from the beginning. Don’t you think you’ve underestimated a young person’s rashness?”

Tisha burst into laughter at my words. She clicked her tongue a couple of times as if regretful, then said:

“Haa, about a hundred years ago, I dreamed of a man who would fight robbers for me, but nowadays young women look for men who will fight megacorporations for them? Young people these days.”

“My Eve just wants twenty-three-year-old Arthur Murphy to only look at her, so I’m going a bit overboard. But if not in your early twenties, when else would you charge in as if you’re willing to die for something like this?”

“Ha, young people these days.”

Now a definite plan was formed. I would use Tisha to make Dead Eye the Grand Inquisitor, use him to infiltrate Hollowwood Creek, and kill John. I would harpoon my Moby Dick.