Ch.3Final Work Record – Dishonorable Discharge (1)

Fortunately, that wasn’t the end. My mind was still hazy, but I could barely regain consciousness. My body seemed immobile. Even opening my eyes was difficult.

The unfamiliar sensation of my mouth being filled with some liquid made the back of my head throb. Where am I? Despite turning my head to look for clues, all I could see was a greenish darkness.

Green. Green… Belwether Company’s preservation fluid is blue. Perhaps… the terrorist incident that put me here was more serious than expected, so they moved regular employees to a general hospital.

That would be more than enough. Yes, that would be fine. I tried to move my body, but something felt strange. It was as if… there was nothing left to move.

I chewed on my lips upon realizing I couldn’t even move my head. My lips tasted burnt and crumbly. Right, a grenade had exploded. I remembered that much.

After that… damn, that’s all. I lost consciousness after that. Despite trying hard to recall memories that had already sunk beyond unconsciousness, nothing came to mind. The darkness beyond the green liquid began to clear slightly.

Until now, I hadn’t noticed how blurry my vision was since I was only looking through the liquid. But it’s no surprise, considering a grenade exploded at close range, even if it was inside that thing’s stomach.

Nevertheless, I could barely make out the figure of someone looking at me through the clearing darkness. The voice was full of energy. Either an energetic person or someone full of ambition.

“Fortunately, you’re awake. Since you’re in preservation fluid, speaking will be difficult, so could you blink once if you understand?”

I blinked briefly. Even that small action brought an unpleasant fatigue, as if I was using all my strength. The man also took a short deep breath.

“I’m glad your brain seems fine. You should thank the duty assistant AI. And the Border Collies too. They brought the emergency team.”

If that’s the case, I decided to believe that my cursing at the Border Collies at the end was just my imagination. It would be ridiculous to curse at those who saved my life just because they were a bit late.

“First, to ease your anxiety, the current time is October 3rd, 2097, 8:35 PM. You’ve woken up after nearly eight hours, which is actually quite early. Also… ah, yes. This is the Old Pasadena Central Medical Center, affiliated with Belwether. We were surprised by the flood of patients from Belwether.”

It’s close to the company. If my body was intact and that terrible rain had stopped after eight hours, it wouldn’t be a long walk back. The doctor hesitated before continuing.

“You must be curious about your condition, especially since you can’t speak. Well, it’s… I think it’s better if you see for yourself. This is the extent of undamaged tissue.”

After he spoke, a smooth reflective object began to rise in the preservation fluid. A mirror? Probably a mirror.

I peered into that mirror with my mostly damaged artificial eyes. It took exactly half a second for my worst imagination to become reality. Just the time it took to focus my eyes.

My hair showed signs of being singed and cut from the close-range explosion. That didn’t matter. My artificial eyes were in such a state that they should be discarded immediately. That didn’t matter either. Tools can be replaced.

There was a deep wound on my jaw exposing the bone, and a few more scars on my neck that looked like they had been torn by something sharp… and that was it. All that was in the preservation fluid was my head.

My expression must have been horrifying even to the doctor. It would be natural, considering I was anxiously clenching my jaw while barely surviving on nutrients in the preservation fluid.

I moved my lips wanting to say something, but I had neither lungs to draw in air nor air for those lungs to exhale. A bitter taste filled my mouth. A phantom sensation.

I felt my consciousness becoming clouded. The eyes I had been straining to focus began to lose their strength. All of this started to feel… meaningless.

The doctor, seemingly concerned about my reaction, took a larger step toward the preservation tank and showed me a document. A rare paper document these days. My brain’s computational assist device must be broken.

When I moved my eyes side to side to indicate I couldn’t see clearly, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Ah, I thought it would be better to show you… Ahem. This was a workplace accident. It happened during work, and in your case, Arthur, you heroically sacrificed yourself trying to hold onto that bioengineered specimen until the very end, which is how you ended up in this state. The company has decided to provide support. Along with a great opportunity.”

After pondering for a moment, he created a hologram image inside the preservation fluid. It showed a person with arms spread in a T-shape, like an artificial body.

The hologram figure began to move. Quickly, almost inhumanly quickly. Though no sound was transmitted, this was… an advertisement for the Posthuman Series enhanced body.

I gritted my teeth. I had almost died because of this. With unfocused eyes, I glared outside the preservation fluid, and he raised both hands, showing his palms as he spoke.

“Sorry, I apologize. That thing eventually escaped. Other security personnel from Section 4 were also seriously injured, though not as badly as you, and the bioengineered specimen fled, evading the Border Collies. So, Belwether Company wants to provide you with a Posthuman IV enhanced body and assign you to the mission of pursuing that specimen. So you can use that hatred as your driving force.”

An opportunity. An opportunity. Yes… an opportunity. A chance to start again. A chance to capture the one who put me in this state, and instead of being thrown off my well-running path and discarded like trash, a chance to continue living at Belwether.

But, using hatred as a driving force? That didn’t sound like something Belwether would say. Belwether hated variables. It wasn’t a company that would employ vengeful individuals for work.

“Belwether will cover 98% of the cost, and the remaining 2% will come from your savings. You’ll probably be left penniless, but it won’t be for long. You’ll be assigned to the pursuit division.”

Could the company come up with such a plan in just eight hours? Eight hours was too short if you think about it, but also too long.

Too short to go through all the procedures to change my affiliation without my consent, and too long to say they hadn’t deployed the original mobile team to search all of Los Angeles. I don’t know where that bioengineered monstrosity fled, but it couldn’t have left the city.

So that offer… was definitely strange. It was also strange that Belwether would pay 98%. There was no reason for the company to charge employees for enhanced bodies provided for work purposes.

But at the same time, I had no choice. Whether this doctor was trying to push me into Belwether’s free support program and drain my account or whatever, I had no choice but to nod.

No, that’s not right. I can’t even be picky when I don’t even have neck muscles left to nod. All I can hope is that this self-proclaimed doctor is more of a greedy person than a madman.

Once I receive any kind of body, I should be able to get help from the company. That would be enough. It would be enough. I reassured myself three times to swallow my anxiety. It wasn’t as good as truly understanding it once.

“If you agree, could you blink your eyes? I’ll put you right into the enhanced body cultivation tank. The cultivation will take about a month, and during that time, you’ll be able to live in a virtual reality space. You can train to adapt to your new enhanced body, or you can spend time relaxing on the net.”

I deliberately blinked. I chose the only path. When something is the only path, it cannot be verified. Humans are creatures who cannot bear the irony that the only path leads to a trap.

Though I couldn’t see the doctor’s face clearly, his voice seemed quite sincere. No, I tried to believe that. It would be inefficient to spout harsh words at others while only a head remained.

“Agreement confirmed. Now, just sleep a little longer. You’ll soon wake up on the net. I’ll take good care of your arms, legs, and torso. So…”

After hearing a voice saying they would mix anesthetic into the preservation fluid, my vision began to blur again. Unpleasant. Ironically, it felt both unpleasant and refreshing. When I wake up after losing consciousness this time, I will have shed the body that was torn apart by the bioengineered specimen’s limbs and scorched by the grenade I threw.

When I regained consciousness, I was in a somewhat better state. Although it was just an avatar in virtual reality, seeing my hands and feet again and being able to move them as I wished was enough to make me feel good.

Several windows floated in my vision. One showed the status of the cultivation tank. Right now, it was just a long cylindrical tank filled with preservation fluid, with my brain floating in it.

And there was the clock I had so desperately wanted. It was now 0:39 AM on October 4th. It had taken about four hours. Longer than I expected. It seems there weren’t many people working on it.

The virtual space was otherwise empty. White floors and walls with grid patterns, and a ceiling with adjustable brightness but no actual lights, surrounded me like an isolation room in a mental hospital.

It was too bland a background for a giant corporation like Belwether to provide. This was especially true for Belwether, a military contractor unusually praised for the comfort of its employee residential areas.

Of course, something must be fishy here. Following what I learned at the security team training college, I first adapted to the situation to avoid unnecessary friction. At least I hadn’t become medical waste without being able to resist.

Now I needed to find out exactly where I was. It would be good if I could connect to the net, but unless this was an official Belwether cultivation tank, expecting such a function would be greedy and luxurious.

I looked around the virtual menu floating in the air. It was crude and inadequate. Still, there was a menu for calling an assistant AI, presumably for appearance’s sake. I lightly touched it. A small logo appeared in my vision.

Judging by the logo of a snake coiled around a staff, was this provided by the hospital? A stiff voice, like that of a duty assistant AI, began to sound in my head.

“I have received your call. I am Bertha, an assistant AI from Old Pasadena General Medical Center.”

“General Medical Center?”

Though my mind was hazy, the doctor had clearly said Old Pasadena Central Medical Center. He even made a verbal slip. So this means that this place isn’t even a hospital. Is it some kind of private research lab? I couldn’t tell.

For now, that wasn’t what I needed to ask. I didn’t believe this crude cultivation tank could actually cultivate a Posthuman IV enhanced body, but… it might make me a decent body.

In fact, if it did create a Posthuman IV enhanced body, that would be an even bigger problem. Using an unlicensed copy would immediately put me on Belwether’s blacklist, with room to spare.

And I had no options besides Belwether. For someone who had gone to a regular school, then set my career path toward Belwether and spent two years at Belwether’s security team training college… being abandoned by Belwether would be the end.

“No, never mind. Is there any way to contact the outside from this device?”

“Our Old Pasadena General Medical Center strives to ensure that patients undergoing body cultivation can enjoy mental freedom despite physical limitations. To connect to the net… To connect to the net… No network connection detected. It appears to be under maintenance.”

It couldn’t be under maintenance. How poorly managed must this place be to need maintenance for basic network connectivity? Still, at least the AI seemed to belong to that hospital.

So the person who recommended this enhanced body cultivation to me probably wasn’t even a doctor. The situation was becoming clearer. I’ve been thoroughly scammed.

“Can you tell me the current location?”

“The artificial body cultivation tank is installed at Old Pasadena General Medical Center and does not include mobility functions.”

Useless AI. No, if this really was Old Pasadena General Medical Center, that would have been a sufficient answer. I moved on to the next question.

“Who is the doctor in charge of operating this cultivation tank? Give me all the profile information you can.”

“Dr. Isabella Shaw, who is in charge of communication between Belwether Company and Old Pasadena General Medical Center. She is a 45-year-old female who has replaced her hands, eyes, and nervous system with cybernetic implants to increase accuracy during surgery. The replaced parts are from Asclepius Company…”

The AI went on for quite some time listing the specifications of the parts that should have been my original doctor’s. So this cultivation tank originally belongs to Dr. Isabella Shaw.

Since there was no mention in the profile about her switching to a male artificial body, the person I met was definitely not Dr. Isabella Shaw.

“End output. Among the people Dr. Isabella Shaw met before I entered the cultivation tank, was there anyone in their 20s… or someone using an artificial body set to appear in their 20s?”

“Records have been deleted. Deleted records can be recovered. However, you do not have recovery authorization. I apologize.”

That made my heart race a little. I didn’t even have a heart at the moment, so even this heartbeat was a phantom sensation. I might be able to find a vulnerability.

“Who has recovery authorization?”

“User Dr. Isabella Shaw and user Jack Winstead.”

So online security vulnerabilities really do exist. In security team training college, we heard until our ears wore out that security vulnerabilities are more common in reality than on the net. Seems there’s at least one exception.

Now I seemed to know the name of the person who put me here. As soon as I get out of here and report to Belwether Company, I’ll go after him.

Belwether hated inefficiency. Diverting an employee was a very malicious and inefficient act. I might even be able to get help from the legal assassination team.

As the hope of reclaiming my life grew stronger, my desire for revenge became shallower. All that mattered was returning to my insignificant life. In fact, requesting revenge from the company and receiving a report would be enough.

I asked a few more questions after that, but this AI didn’t seem to know anything more. Now all I could do was wait for the cultivation to finish, as if truly imprisoned in a brain jail.

“If external connection functions are turned off, what settings can you provide internally? Like internal structure customization?”

“As I mentioned, this device is managed by Dr. Isabella Shaw, who is in charge of communication between Belwether Company and Old Pasadena General Medical Center. With just the information stored internally, we can recreate about 63% of Belwether Company’s employee residential and training areas. Some areas have been omitted due to security issues or excessive resource use, but it should be a familiar space for you.”

I request the general employee quarters. In the room that had looked like a mental hospital isolation cell, crudely finished objects began to appear, and as the polygons became denser, they transformed into the appearance of the home I remembered.

To hide my anxiety about whether this cultivation tank could really produce a Posthuman IV enhanced body, I decided to pretend to be more relaxed. I decided to believe I had received a month-long vacation.

It had already been a day when I nearly died twelve hours ago. I desperately needed enough composure to endure the anxiety.