Ch.326Epilogue – Introduction to Corporate Relations, Lecture 1

The Glass Palace of Corporate Justice—a descriptor often attached to Belwether Headquarters by the federal government. Of course, it was meant as mockery, not praise.

But to Isabella, looking up at the city full of streamlined shapes and curtain walls that were once futuristic but now merely modern, the phrase didn’t feel like mockery at all.

Headquarters is a dream. Headquarters is an ideal. This thought hadn’t left Isabella’s mind since the moment she first landed at the headquarters airport. While Los Angeles where she lived wasn’t a bad place, headquarters was in a different league altogether.

Just coming here was enough to evoke such emotion, but when she entered Belwether’s employee training university, it would be no exaggeration to say her legs nearly gave out.

Just as the finest sword requires the finest steel, creating the best employees requires the best talent. Her presence here meant she was among that elite talent.

Still, an educational program was an educational program. No matter how exceptional a talent from Los Angeles might be, the first class had to be an introduction. The professor of Introduction to Corporate Relations was… even at a glance, clearly a Belwether person.

From the black shirt and white suit—practically Belwether’s ceremonial attire—he exuded intimidation, and despite his friendly smile, he seemed ready to launch into an efficiency sermon at any moment.

“Worse than mom, I swear.” Isabella muttered to herself, but when the professor looked at her as if reading her thoughts, she instinctively shrank back. The gaze of Belwether people was intimidating.

Of course, it was merely attendance check. After satisfactorily scanning the students, the professor nodded and gave a light salute with three fingers—thumb, index, and middle finger extended. The Belwether salute.

“For the company, employees, and shareholders. Well, before we properly begin… let’s discuss something trivial. Why do corporations collaborate with some companies but not others? No, let’s use a simpler example…”

A virtual screen appeared before the students, pushed by the professor. On the screen was… the image of Hollowwood Creek Cathedral being demolished. It was a photo from several years ago, one Isabella recognized.

“Why did Hollowwood Creek, or more precisely, Hollowwood Creek as a pharmaceutical company, vanish into history? Any opinions? Finding answers to such questions is what corporate relations studies is about, so feel free to respond.”

However, more students raised their hands than the professor expected. It was unusual for first-year university students who didn’t even know what corporate relations was to show such enthusiasm for answering. Usually, that is.

What was different this time… the professor knew. There was an interesting unofficial story intertwined with Hollowwood Creek’s demise. Was it official history? The professor couldn’t be certain, but the timing did flow naturally.

“Ah, I can see what story everyone wants to tell… but we’re looking for causes, and that’s a result. Anyone want to discuss the causes?”

Isabella, who had lowered her hand along with other students, raised it again. After the professor’s nod, Isabella cleared her throat lightly and began speaking.

“First, as you mentioned… there’s an unofficial story about a freelance mercenary who killed Hollowwood Creek to save someone they loved. You called it a result, but there’s an important aspect to that result.”

The important aspect Isabella referred to was how a freelancer could kill a mega-corporation. Normally, freelancers can’t kill mega-corporations. It’s a fundamental truth that the house always wins.

“Isn’t that strange? Usually, freelancers aren’t in that weight class. It’s impossible for one person to be in the same weight class as a mega-corporation. So conversely, Hollowwood Creek must have been reduced to that level…”

Isabella spoke while naturally checking her materials. Most of her prepared documents related to performances hosted by Panacea MediTech to collaborate with the entertainment industry. Choice is what matters.

After browsing the net slowly, Isabella brought up a cartoon depicting Hollowwood Creek as a pig mistaking Belwether’s feed for a divine gift. Not logical evidence, but it would help understanding.

“Hollowwood Creek was satisfied with becoming Belwether’s partner company and believed that would sustain their religious tyranny forever. That’s why they became obsolete. In contrast, their competitor…”

This time, an image of Panacea MediTech appeared—now Belwether’s official partner company. They were desperate enough to approach the entertainment industry, where assassin wars were frequent.

“Even without being able to collaborate with military contractors, they did everything possible to diversify their customer base and expand their network instead of isolating themselves like Hollowwood Creek. That’s what made the difference.”

“Your summary is neat. Could you concisely state your conclusion?”

“Hollowwood Creek’s isolationist tendencies and consequent disinterest in external expansion made them unable to withstand the structural power shifts resulting from Belwether’s change in Great Archetype policy.”

The professor applauded Isabella’s answer a few times. What Belwether had decided was simply a change in Great Archetype policy. No other principles had changed. That was the important point.

“Excellent answer. Hollowwood Creek disappeared into history not because of a freelancer who sacrificed themselves for a loved one, but because they failed to adapt to the structural power shifts following Belwether’s policy change.”

The professor was enthusiastic, and so were the students. Those who graduated from here had a future. Thinking of current tedium as preparation for the future made it quite enjoyable.

Isabella had considerable talent for corporate relations. It wasn’t about corporate relations itself. What interested her was relationships themselves. Why did mom divorce dad was the first question.

And in the process of thinking about that… Isabella became interested in the unstable yet solid threads connecting this world. Trust is strong but has a clear point of no return. Her future was determined there.

After finishing her first class, Isabella walked out to the campus of Belwether Employee Training University, and as she exited the main gate onto the street where warm sunlight shone through the smog… someone waved at her.

It was a man with black hair and brown eyes. Though no implants were visible, the… bizarrely intense vitality emanating from him inevitably drew attention. He looked more beast than human.

A young, vigorous beast. The kind you’d believe could shatter and scatter roadside boulders with a roar—an intensely young and intensely vigorous beast appeared.

The man, half-leaning out of his car window waving at Isabella, spoke in a surprisingly gentle voice that contrasted with his intimidating aura. Gentle, or perhaps thoroughly ordinary.

“Isabella Yoon?”

Normally, when someone with such an intimidating aura calls your full name, you might stiffen a bit, but he didn’t seem particularly intimidating. The imposing atmosphere had vanished.

“I usually go by Bella, or drop the B and just Ella, but who are you?”

“Ah, right. Not many people would nickname themselves Bella, I guess. But… didn’t you get a message from your mom?”

Isabella, who was staying in a dormitory because she wasn’t satisfied with accommodations at headquarters, remembered her mother mentioning someone at headquarters who could help. He must be that person.

“Are you… the one who’s helping with housing? Your name is…?”

“Murphy, Arthur. I’m planning to retire in two months, but I want to keep my place at headquarters. I could just leave it empty for cleaning services to manage, but I heard someone was looking for a place.”

A virtual screen pushed by him appeared in her view. His career was impressive. After briefly working at the company where Ella’s mother worked, he immediately obtained a freelancer license and came to headquarters within half a year.

For three years, he was Belwether’s hammer, and now he was almost a second-year trainee in Belwether’s audit team. Was two years still considered a trainee in the audit team? Perhaps so, given they had to audit Belwether itself.

Where a vehicle’s gear shift should have been, there was a railgun and an exosuit pistol that clearly weren’t Belwether items. The slide had “Minor Evil” sharply engraved on it.

The t-shirt he wore was from Belwether’s security team, and the exosuit pistol holstered beside him was standard issue for the special operations division. Ella, now showing a bit more interest, stroked the words “Minor Evil” and asked:

“Did you live alone? I don’t know how big it is, and honestly, the dorm I’m in now isn’t bad. I’ve been there since I arrived, so I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Well, currently four… no, five people are expected to live there, and it’s not uncomfortable. If anything, it might be too spacious? You can get roommates if you want.”

Arthur thought the house was indeed too large for a student to live in alone. He also thought such a gift was appropriate for a student who had excellently entered Belwether Employee Training University.

The vehicle circled around Belwether Headquarters and stopped at a beachfront where the sound of waves from San Francisco’s inner bay—unlike the Pacific—could be heard. An intimidatingly nice neighborhood.

After entering a tall building facing the blue sea, they boarded an elevator… which verified the man’s identity before heading to the penthouse on the top floor.

As Ella nervously swallowed, the elevator doors opened. While her attention was drawn to the flying household drones, two girls about four years old ran to the man.

Seeing a household drone following the children, the man said in a rather cheerful voice:

“Chance, was watching the kids okay? They’re usually energetic. They didn’t inherit Type 4, but they’re so energetic it’s a problem.”

“I affirm. This artificial intelligence does not experience neural stimulation that could be recognized as discomfort from repetitive actions. I do have to repeat the same things over and over, but I consider it natural.”

“Ah, change your speech pattern a bit. My Eve was confused because mom complained that instead of ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ you say ‘I affirm’ and ‘I deny.’ They’re at an age where they love mimicking others, you know?”

Nevertheless, the household drone responded that it affirmed. The home seemed quite harmonious. But, his wife’s name was Eve. When Hollowwood Creek wielded its tyranny, all men there were Adam and all women were Eve.

No way, surely not. It’s not like this man is the only Belwether freelancer in the world. As the man carried the two children inside, a woman with deep blue hair and a visibly pregnant belly walked out.

So that’s what “five expected” meant. After Ella exchanged a light hug with the woman who opened her arms, she cupped Ella’s cheeks with both hands, looked at her, and giggled.

“I’d believe it if you said Mrs. Yoon had swapped into her old body. Wouldn’t you, Arthur?”

“Seriously. I recognized her face without even needing an identity scan. Anyway, I think we should show her around the house first…”

By the time Ella concluded this person must have worked with her mother too, Eve had taken Ella’s hand and begun showing her around.

The house wasn’t that large. More precisely, while certainly spacious for Ella to live alone… it didn’t seem spacious at all for these people. It might even have been cramped.

The walls were adorned with Polaroid photos—a hobby unusually slow for this high-speed era. Analog items for nostalgia’s sake. There were plenty of people who preferred real photos to intangible virtual screens.

They weren’t extraordinary photos. The most prominent was a blurry version of… a photo of someone sipping wine against the backdrop of San Francisco’s inner bay in the evening.

That small cork board contained photos ranging from amateurish ones revealing inexperience like the first one, to fairly well-taken shots, arranged either randomly or in some particular order.

They weren’t skilled with cameras from the start. A completely white photo, likely overexposed, had a playful note attached: ‘Don’t ask what this was supposed to be.’

Yet amidst all this, the first photos of their children were perfectly captured. These were whimsical people. Whimsical enough to be admired, people living a dream-like life.

Her gaze turned to the wall shelf. There was… the Boogeyman’s helmet. The helmet of the very freelance mercenary who had the Archetype hunting mandate canceled at the Belwether shareholders’ meeting.

As Ella thought “surely not” again, another helmet caught her eye. This one was black with snake-scale patterns. Maybe they just collected helmets of famous freelancers.

A small plastic card had a note attached saying “Evidence that Chance didn’t need a leash,” and there were patches from various mercenary companies arranged side by side.

There were two patches from Nightwatch, the company Ella’s mother ran, and there was also a patch with a mask and dagger logo embroidered with “To my teacher,” as well as a patch from Sin City Bitches with a Santa hat.

There was a miniature of Smogpiercer and Atlas sent by H Entertainment, worn photos of a Christmas party for “returned children,” a well-thumbed copy of Moby Dick, and another book with a flame image instead of a title.

Ella didn’t understand most of these items. They were these people’s small history. Thinking of this five-step exhibition as the history of two people laid out… made Ella’s heart flutter.

After letting Ella thoroughly examine the displays, the couple took her to the bedroom. Though it seemed to be the couple’s bedroom, there were also some children’s toys on the bed.

Specifically… a snake doll with a Japanese sword in its mouth and an unidentifiable black lump doll holding a black pistol, facing each other.

It didn’t last long. The two dolls were soon taken by the children and placed in a crudely block-built party venue on the floor. Ella felt this was somehow more natural.

The house tour continued, but Ella thought she wouldn’t be able to accept this house. Not because it was too spacious or too expensive—Ella wasn’t one to be intimidated, though she could be greedy.

Rather, to borrow someone’s expression, she was experiencing a “total lack of capability.” Ella, satisfied with having toured the house rather than gaining a new home, said:

“It’s a really nice place. The space is large, and even if you just left the built-ins, I could live like a corporate aristocrat… but I can’t live in this house.”

“Why?”

“Just, if I cleared out all your things and brought in mine… the house would look empty. It would take me ten years to fill those display cases, wouldn’t it? Until then, I’d feel like I was living in someone else’s home.”

Ella wasn’t feeling awe toward the Boogeyman, or industry legends, or Belwether’s hammer. She felt awe toward people who could fill an entire house with happy memories.

At those words, Arthur burst into laughter. He reached out to ruffle Ella’s hair lightly and said in a cheerful voice:

“You’re still not used to living as a college student, and already you’re overwhelmed thinking about filling this place with life’s happy moments? A total lack of capability…”

“Exactly, totally lacking in every way.”

“Would it change your mind if I told you that everything in this house was collected when I felt a total lack of capability? I’d really like someone so similar to me to take care of this place.”

For Arthur, that time was when thirst was sweet, and hunger could fill the stomach. Sensing the bittersweet tone in Arthur’s voice, Ella began to feel his words were somewhat sincere.

Soon after, Ella thought she wanted to try it too. She wanted to overcome the phrase “total lack of capability” and fill her space with such whimsical personal history.

“Then… I want to try too. I wish I had something extraordinary about me.”

At those words, Eve laughed leisurely. Gently fixing the hair Arthur had ruffled, she whispered:

“Now I see why he said you’re similar. You seem good at self-objectification, yet in some areas, that objectification completely breaks down—you’re exactly alike. You know, you got into Belwether Headquarters University at twenty?”

Once, a young Ahab learned from an old Ahab how to throw a harpoon and the mindset needed when throwing it, but no one can remain a student forever.

Now the young Ahab too taught someone how sweet a total lack of capability can be, the thrill of quenching that deficiency, and the beauty contained in a span of human history.