Ch.319Work Record #046 – Operation Chair Takeover (1)

At the time when my Eve received a morning summons, Silverlining, Tisha, and even Bill all gathered in the living room of Eve’s hideout where the Creek escapees had originally congregated.

The atmosphere is much better than before. Originally, it was just a space with a few air mattresses serving as makeshift beds and folded blankets… but now it’s much more lively.

With Silverlining’s arrival, safety concerns resolved… and Dean, who enjoys cooking for the children, staying here, along with Brandon who can engage in silly wrestling games with the kids.

Judging by the childish drawings on the wall depicting Neonsnake wielding dual swords, it seems Dean has been sharing his heroic tales with the children. This is what we’re working for.

I place the hologram projector I received from Mr. Enzo for Christmas on the floor. He said freelancers would definitely need to brief different organizations together, and that’s exactly what’s happening now.

I deliberately didn’t invite Nightwatch. This is, at least for the next two weeks, about planning an attack on Belwether’s ally. Even if it’s tolerated, it’s not something a Belwether partner company should be doing.

“Now that preparations are wrapping up, I’ll begin the briefing for Operation Chair Snatch. First, our mission objective is to eliminate the cult leader and transfer power to Pastor Bill Weaver. I’d like to minimize casualties.”

I project a crosshair-shaped logo above the hologram projector, standing in for Deadeye who couldn’t attend. I also display the date portion of my Belwether shareholders’ meeting invitation. Everyone looks at it together.

“First, our inside contact at Hollowwood Creek, thanks to Pastor Bill Weaver’s help. His name is Adam, but I call him Deadeye, and he’s an inquisitor… soon to be Grand Inquisitor. Tisha?”

“Scout asked me for a favor. To snitch, so to speak. Not real snitching, but… the cult leader will fall for it. He’ll be told that his runaway Eve’s whereabouts are known.”

It was the best option available to Tisha in the current situation. There’s persuasive logic in claiming she’s returning with the offering of the only person the cult leader wants brought back alive.

“That tip will go to Deadeye, who will report it to the current Grand Inquisitor—essentially Hollowwood Creek’s security chief—to lure him out. If it’s an Eve the cult leader is searching for, his runaway Eve…”

“The Grand Inquisitor will definitely take the bait. With one Eve defecting and another missing, it’s obvious how much contempt he must have received from John. Which coordinates will you use to lure him?”

I shift the hologram focus toward the drone camera so Pastor Bill Weaver’s hologram can see, and zoom in on the abandoned rest stop building that Chance and I found.

“We’ll use this place. It’s quite spacious with plenty of hiding spots… and it’s on the way to San Francisco Island. We’ll deal with the Grand Inquisitor on our way to the Belwether shareholders’ meeting.”

Dean asks with some puzzlement. It’s not particularly practical, but it was necessary to reassure Deadeye… and it would make me happier.

“Is there really a need for a drive-by killing? It’s more realistic than the middle of a wasteland, and quick resolution is good, but… you’ve probably seen plenty of things go wrong from rushing too much.”

“That’s true, but I don’t think Deadeye can act well enough. He’s our collaborator, but he’s still someone who’s spent 90% of his life in the Creek. You know what it would be like without his help.”

“We’d have to kill everything in sight before going in. Yeah, rushing is probably better… Once the Belwether shareholders’ meeting is over, will Panacea Meditech move in right away?”

There’s more than enough time for Ms. Azani to contact headquarters and for them to make backdoor contact with Belwether. Someone without that capability wouldn’t rise to branch manager position.

“They’ll move in immediately. Even if not right away, since this has the Belwether chairman’s approval, there won’t be any issues. Can we assume the Grand Inquisitor position will go to Deadeye?”

Tisha scoffs. Until now, she was someone who could overlook Hollowwood Creek’s contradictions because her life was at stake, but now she has no connection to the Creek.

“Of course. Adam only cares about indulging in Eves. He’ll probably just say, ‘Grand Inquisitor? Give it to the guy who brought in that tip.'”

This isn’t a gamble based solely on Tisha’s word. It’s inevitable. Hollowwood Creek lacks individuality. When you can’t distinguish between one person and another, you make Deadeye the only distinguishable one.

The cult leader has no affection for either Adam or Eve. He doesn’t think about successors. He simply tamed them by allowing them to indulge in pleasure as Adam and Eve, so he likely hasn’t prepared any candidates.

Perhaps this haphazard operation of Hollowwood Creek was also a misstep of this era. The promise that doing your job well would lead to a happy life had become reality in the worst way. A counterexample that will soon disappear.

“Still, be careful, Scout. John also has a toy made with that war-era technology. European stuff. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but John does wear a large exosuit.”

Exosuits basically conform to the wearer’s body. One of the development philosophies Walter mentioned for Posthuman Type IV was the ease of exosuit production. This is unnatural.

Additionally, in the videos and stories Chance showed me, the European Federation used gravity wave generators as strategic weapons. Gravity-related technology? He might be using it to move the exosuit.

“Chance, do you have any related information?”

I allow Chance, connected to my mind, to speak through my voice module. Chance was also going to be part of this operation.

“I do. Whether it’s a product of DARPA reverse engineering or from the mainland doesn’t matter. The function is simple. It’s likely mass cancellation for weight reduction.”

It’s practical but not flashy, and while certainly a miraculous technology, it’s also one that can’t do much on its own. Could we extract the cult leader’s body and reverse engineer the exosuit?

“So… should we assume he’s wearing a non-standard exosuit? Tisha, what do you think?”

“I sometimes wondered how that thing moves. So, the cult leader without his clothes looks like… here.”

Tisha uses her new computational assist device to visualize her memory and pushes it to a virtual screen. The cult leader appears. An old man with no hair or teeth, and eyes that could be either open or closed.

Up to the neck, that is. Below that was an exosuit packed with cables of unknown material that seemed to mimic human muscles. He was clearly taller than Mr. James.

Despite being much larger than the Talos enhanced body, which can shatter floors just by jumping and landing, its lightness would give it grotesquely good mobility.

It doesn’t matter. It won’t be fast enough to escape visual tracking. No matter how quickly it moves, it can’t avoid Hubris, and that’s enough. In fact, there are advantages to such an exosuit.

Normally, when someone wearing a fitted exosuit has it damaged, damage to the body inside would naturally follow, but judging by the head size, the current cult leader is probably in the 160cm range.

That means about half the exosuit, most of the limbs, must be empty space. In that state, even if the limbs are cut off, he could stay alive until a harpoon is driven into him—a thought I found quite sweet.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. As long as Dean and I can kill him together, it’s fine. Oh, I contacted Deadeye in advance, and he said the cult leader’s personal security is currently handled by mercenaries.”

“John probably thinks Adam and the Eves listen well but aren’t trustworthy. Of course, right? He raised them to be idiots.”

It was obvious from the start that he considered even the prestigious position of Grand Inquisitor to be easily replaceable by anyone from the Creek. Truly, terribly… we cannot live under the same sky as the Creek.

I push the photos Deadeye sent into the hologram projector via virtual screen. It’s a mercenary company with barely more than ten people. A megacorporation’s logo was attached alongside the company logo.

Dean recognizes the megacorporation logo first. He seems to be a freelancer from the same entertainment industry. Given the clear S shape, the entertainment company was obvious, but I don’t know what the abbreviation stands for.

“Oh, what? These are S-Enter guys? Secret and Serendipity Entertainment logo. They’re not like me or G-Enter people who use blades… this is their specialty.”

He places his hand on his temple, where computational assist devices are typically implanted—a metaphor for hacking. Sera, who had been quietly drinking pack juice, speaks up.

“Those guys. Skills. Pretty good. Not as good as me. Problem. I’m one. They’re many. Killshot, your security handler?”

“Connected inside my head. And since my security handler has better skills than Sera… if Sera focuses on Dean, and my security handler focuses on me, we should manage somehow, right?”

“Somehow. Not enough. Need certainty. Comrade. Right? Tell me. For sure.”

The word “comrade” sometimes carries a deep resonance. Sometimes it evokes guilt like now, but usually it’s more positive. After awkwardly scratching my cheek and seeing Chance’s permission, I spoke.

“It’s an AI for electronic warfare from that war era. I call it Aegis… and it just got an upgrade so it can send images that cause widespread neural damage, like those ideomorphs who use their eyes.”

Strangely, the people sitting here weren’t surprised by this statement. They seemed to think it was natural for someone like me to have a war-era AI as an assistant.

Sera didn’t panic or… ask why I was hiding such a thing. Instead, she nodded while sitting proudly.

I thought she might be happy that the opponent who beat her wasn’t just an ordinary hacker, and I was right.

“Not bad. Not bad at all. No, excellent. Opponent who beat me. Impressive. Good. Anyway. I’ll. Just worry about. Neonsnake. Good. Physical force?”

Everyone was talking quite comfortably. Objectively, it wasn’t difficult. Only people who had reached the ceiling in their respective fields were here, so it made sense.

“The physical force isn’t bad either… with Killshot and me going in, and us having the element of surprise, killing won’t be difficult. What’s the plan, Killshot? Just kill them and go in? Or find a way to bypass them too?”

“We’ll kill them and go in. If those guys were Hollowwood Creek certified freelancers, we might think they were forced to take the job… but they’re S-Enter certified freelancers. No one forced them.”

Sera confirms once more. They weren’t certified by Hollowwood Creek. A company requesting certification doesn’t wield as much influence as the certifying company. They were… unqualified.

And the unqualified must be slaughtered. Those who grab the wheel, prevent the engine from running, and weigh down the chassis—these freeloaders and the unqualified all deserve to die.

“And while we’re going in, I’d like Pastor Bill Weaver to prevent Hollowwood Creek’s main forces from reaching the cult leader’s room. Sera, can you create an infiltration route?”

“Infiltration. What kind?”

“Getting us into the main system. Then, by projecting a giant hologram of Pastor Bill Weaver giving a sermon, we could capture the attention of the entire Creek, couldn’t we? What do you think, Bill?”

Pastor Bill Weaver’s hologram on the drone appears to think for a moment, then shows a somewhat anxious expression.

“I’ll try, but… I’m not sure. Whether those people still have the capacity to listen to me. Whether I, only 42% of the original, have the ability to speak with a voice that inspires people’s faith like the original…”

“Ha. What nonsense, Bill. You were a man filled with 80% weakness. Someone who enjoyed people depending on you, but simultaneously felt anxious about it… a very weak man.”

Tisha chided him as if asking why he’s now pretending to be a copy when he’s been acting exactly like the real Bill all this time. She continues with a smile.

“So, you didn’t go from 100% to 42%. Your weak side went from 80% to 22%. Don’t you think? And just look at Adam or whatever Deadeye is, right?”

“You’re right, Tisha. The people of Hollowwood Creek need something to believe in. They believe because they have nothing else they can do but believe. I’m afraid I might appear to them like… John, Tisha.”

When this somewhat sincere statement came out, Tisha burst into laughter. Jerome’s expertly crafted face laughing no longer looked like a cheap love doll and actually looked decent.

“You’re still foolish, Bill. We have someone right in front of us who resembles John a hundred times more than you do. No, not resembles—probably surpasses John.”

She said this while glancing over the hologram projector already filled with operation-related materials. It seemed I had earned her recognition in her own way. The feeling was… not bad at all.

Pastor Bill Weaver’s hologram seemed to gather his thoughts slowly, then nodded. Despite being a hologram, he spoke with a rather emotional expression.

“Then… after a long time, no, that’s not right. Not after a long time. For the first time, I should prepare a Sunday sermon. Good. Strangely, I feel excited… but I can do this well. It’s what I used to do.”

With that, the preparations are complete. During the two weeks until the shareholders’ meeting, Tisha sent the fake tip… and I learned how to use high-frequency blades with Dean, and studied the internal structure using maps from Deadeye.

And so passes what felt like the longest two weeks of my life. Now the music begins. Everyone dances, and when the song ends, Hollowwood Creek will have no place to sit.