Ch.61Work Record 011 – Seizing the Opportunity (6)

“I think I know what’s going to happen today.”

That was the first thing Eve said after locking the office door behind us. I tilted my head slightly and asked.

“What do you think is going to happen?”

Eve ran her hand down her exposed nape before answering. She bit her lip nervously, as if struck by an ominous premonition.

“Just… I think things will go well up to a point… then problems will arise. There’ll be gunfire, and I’ll be stuck holding people back while you go solve everything. Isn’t that right? That’s how it always seems to be.”

Ah, yes. Among the traits hidden behind her coldness was this pessimism. It sounded like self-reproach, and even Eve’s eyes, looking up at me as she paused on the stairs, seemed tinged with blue.

“That’s efficient teamwork. The Belwether bioweapon goes to handle the cause, while Eve, with her keen eye and first aid skills, takes care of people. The important thing is protecting employees and citizens, and eliminating the cause is just the easiest way to protect them. Besides, since I’m the only strike team member, what variables could possibly arise?”

I went down a few more steps so she wouldn’t have to look up, and extended my hand. Eve took it. Though my prosthetic hand had tactile feedback, it must have been less sensitive than real touch, as she held my hand with both of hers and lifted it.

Eventually, she rested her cheek against my palm, her somewhat cool body temperature perceptible against my hand as she answered. If I focused on my hand, I could even feel her breath escaping as she spoke.

“When there’s only one strike team member, there’s always the variable of missing the perpetrator. Even if I handle that variable… it’s never actually happened before.”

“I’ve only had my neck cut and been kicked out of Belwether once, right? Things that haven’t happened yet will happen someday. And you’re preventing that ‘someday’ from coming. What did I say?”

As I spoke, I lightly clenched my right fist to control the slight trembling. It still wasn’t a memory I could easily swallow, but sometimes pretending to be okay is how you become okay.

I needed to treat it like a joke, speak of it as if it were trivial, to make it somewhat bearable. Would it be better to seek medical help? I couldn’t tell. It seemed like I could maintain the status quo as is.

To finally put this to rest, I’d need to kill that bioengineering monstrosity. That monster that couldn’t be found anywhere. Something was strange. Even in hiding, evidence should have surfaced by now.

Was someone forcibly concealing it? No, Post-Human Type IV regenerative abilities were excellent to begin with. When I took a bullet to the side and simply went to sleep, what I experienced wasn’t death from excessive bleeding but a scolding from Eve.

Then why were they conducting experiments to enhance regenerative abilities? To the point where a person becomes such a… monstrosity? It seems inefficient for regeneration enhancement experiments.

Whatever the case, it ends this Friday. The Black Friday sale will liquidate even my grudge at a bargain price. I exhale with a deep breath, trying not to fall into needless worry.

Eve, who had been facing me but lost in her own thoughts, nodded while fidgeting with her bangs.

“You called it efficient teamwork. I suppose it is. How do you always have all the answers, Arthur? Do you practice alone at home?”

This time I wordlessly put on the helmet she handed me. Despite being a Post-Human Type IV who would merely suffer some skin burns if thrown from a speeding motorcycle, she checked my helmet carefully.

“If it were something I could practice, I’d practice regularly two hours a day. I just know that I don’t know the answers, and I don’t pretend to know them. When you think from that state, pretty plausible answers emerge. It’s like jumping. Anyone can jump about ten centimeters if they stand stiffly.”

After saying this, I crouched down to the ground and jumped up. Using my enhanced body’s strength without restraint, I leapt high enough to reach the roof of a two-story building, making the parking lot floor resonate.

As I landed, Eve, who had put on her helmet, smiled lightly. It’s quite pleasant to hear her laugh-tinged voice while I check her helmet in return.

“Not everyone can jump three stories high just because they crouch first. And see? You had the answer this time too. Do you know how to get to New Magers Department Store, Arthur?”

New Magers was also a mega-corporation. Their headquarters is said to be a massive… building. I’ve heard it’s like an entire small town packed into one building, where everyone lives inside.

I can’t imagine it. It’s not a big deal though, as it’s common for companies to not understand each other’s cultures. Anyway, New Magers was the most common department store across America.

Most things can be bought online, and if desired, experienced in virtual reality… but if you’re looking for products from a mega-corporation without a branch in your city, going to New Magers was much faster.

New Magers is like a vascular company. It’s a mega-corporation that survived by enabling everyone to access the services of the whales of our era, the ultra-mega-corporations. I learned about their interesting survival method.

“I’m a bit sad that I obviously know this too. Shall we go directly?”

Once again, I took the handlebars of Eve’s motorcycle, and her slender body leaned lightly against my back. The feeling of her helmet’s contour touching my back was always special.

I started riding gently. Though it was a holiday for us, for most people it was already past the time to start work, so the streets were relatively quiet. The smog was also less dense today.

The city was quite sparkling and beautiful at times like this. Between the skyscrapers stretching high toward the sky with their sunlight-reflecting curtain walls, the sky that appeared as a straight line was blue for the first time in a while.

During the day, everything seems to work perfectly. Changchun Robotics’ public beautification drones collect garbage and polish floor tiles as they pass by, and apart from us, the only armed presence was Belwether’s traffic police, who maintain constant readiness as their creed. It’s a diligent city, completely different from the decadence visible at night.

It would still be fair to call it deception, since drug dealers start appearing just a few blocks off the main streets. We passed through those avenues toward New Magers.

A wide building reminiscent more of a stadium than a department store, with a massive display encircling its upper part. Something that looked like an action movie was playing on that display.

It wasn’t an action movie. It was real combat footage. It showed New Magers security teams hunting intruders who had broken into other New Magers branches.

The moment intruders appear, all customers are evacuated, security teams are deployed, and all exits—even ventilation ducts—are sealed. The security teams, familiar with the internal structure, could literally hunt down the intruders.

Apart from accusations of plagiarizing G Entertainment’s content, it was quite a decent broadcast. Even those who were repulsed by G Enter’s arena liked New Magers’ broadcasts of criminals and terrorists dying.

Still not to my taste. After receiving security team training, I couldn’t like anything used so casually. Brainwashing? No. Just preference. Probably.

Eve, who glanced at the display, blurted out a comment as if bored.

“Why do people these days like watching others die so much? If there were other department stores besides New Magers, and they didn’t show such things… I would have gone there instead.”

“Security has improved and worsened simultaneously. People like us roll around daily with our noses soaked in gunpowder smell, but for ordinary employee-citizens, the only crisis they experience is hearing sirens and going to panic rooms. They’re curious about what happens while they’re in those panic rooms.”

That’s why the outcome of those broadcasts was always the security team’s victory. Either the security team hunted down all intruders, or after the security team was wiped out, the intruders suffocated because the ventilation ducts remained sealed. One or the other.

We headed into the department store. In the first-floor lobby, the places where intruders and security team members had fallen were being used as photo zones. Death on screen was treated lightly, like some kind of amusement ride.

When I extended my hand to Eve, she gripped it firmly. She squeezed too hard, as if disliking the surrounding atmosphere. I held her hand and massaged it gently.

Though it felt quite different from her cheek, with artificial skin, it had tactile feedback, so Eve gradually calmed down. It seems we both need many means of calming ourselves.

“Let’s go to the fourth floor, Arthur. I originally wanted to gift you a plant… but thinking about it, you’ve probably never grown plants before, and a mercenary’s lifestyle isn’t conducive to plant care. I thought I’d give you a holographic planter instead. It won’t wither, and will always look the same as when I gave it to you. Nice, right?”

Judging by how uncharacteristically long-winded Eve was being, I briefly thought she must have prepared this speech. With just a hint of a smile, I nodded and took the escalator to the fourth floor.

If one could momentarily forget that smog-filled Los Angeles existed outside, the interior of New Magers Department Store looked exactly like a brave new world. It looked like an advertisement space for mega-corporations.

The company we were looking for was Mirage Optics. The similarity between mirages—visible to the eye but intangible—and hologram technology that can be seen but not touched is quite fitting.

Everything in the store appears real. There are shelves with products displayed on them, and even other customers besides us seem to be walking around.

Until the moment you approach the center of the store and press a red button with what is probably “Press Me” written in French—a language I can’t read. The moment you press it, everything shuts off.

It was programmed to turn back on after three seconds. This was a device prepared to let customers experience realistic holograms. Eve, who was watching this curiously, approached the holographic planters.

She picked up a small holographic planter that could fit on a bedside table and asked.

“Do you have a favorite flower, Arthur? Not an ‘efficient’ flower that produces lots of honey or has medicinal properties, but just one you like.”

“Ah, why do you say that? You like my efficiency-obsessed side too. Um, do you have chamomile? At Panacea MediTech where I was cultivated, they gave each returned child a holographic planter with a single chamomile flower. I took care of it diligently, but after about ten years, it broke down.”

The people at Panacea MediTech must have thought Belwether would do something terrible to the children they purchased. That small brick-colored holographic planter had a hidden message.

‘The flower language of chamomile is strength in adversity. Whatever Belwether does to you, just hold on a little longer. Panacea MediTech is a mega-corporation too.’

Belwether, as if mocking those words, raised us to be efficient people. Efficiency is good. Inefficiency is evil. Does that mean efficient people can be called righteous? I couldn’t really tell.

After manipulating the holographic planter a few times, Eve created a convincing image of a single chamomile flower and showed it to me. Not just the hologram, but the small brick-colored planter also looked quite nice.

Even the characteristic rough texture of brick was captured perfectly. I nodded with satisfaction.

“It was exactly this shape. If you turn the base like this…”

It was supposed to be a hidden feature, but having used a similar product before, it wasn’t much of a secret to me. The flower hologram turned off, and only a string of text saying “no message entered” floated in the air.

“You can also write messages to send like this. If you’re getting this one, I want to buy one too. I want to give one to you as well. I never gave you a housewarming gift, did I?”

One way or another, I had visited Eve’s home in the ruins district. There’s no need to recall what happened afterward right now.

I briefly turned away to check my account. Even though most of my salary had gone toward the deposit, I still had enough credits left to buy a holographic planter and survive the month.

As we each carried a holographic planter to the checkout counter, Eve sighed and said.

“Don’t write ‘it’s not Eve’s fault.’ I think that kind of message would actually stress me out more. And since you’re a kind guy, Arthur… I think you might write such a message.”

It would be the worst thing I could say to her. She already firmly believes it’s her fault, so who am I to argue whether it is or isn’t? It was obvious.

“Ah, I’m kind but also capable of thinking. I was just planning to write a dinner invitation. Something cheesy like ‘How about 7:30 PM the day after you see this message? If you’re there, I’ll magically try to be there too.’ Just dropping in a slightly cringeworthy message.”

“How would I know when you’ll see that message?”

“I just showed you how to view it, and after saying all this at the checkout counter, won’t you look at it as soon as you get home?”

It was an easy read. Judging by how Eve was pressing her temples with her thumbs, it wasn’t that easy a read for her.

“Don’t get inside my head, Arthur. It’s more chaotic than my house. And no messages like that either. Just, don’t write anything that would make me blush. Got it?”

“Should I leave it blank?”

This must have been the wrong answer too, as Eve’s face started flushing from her nape up the moment she heard it. I could thoroughly enjoy her grumbling voice in response.

“No, write something. I need to show you that I don’t react that way to every single thing you say.”

After saying this, it seemed unlikely she would open the message. We exchanged identical holographic planters as housewarming gifts. Neither of us checked the messages first.

Eve’s prediction completely missed the mark that day. Nothing happened when we visited the small park Farmers Corp had created under a glass dome in the city center, nor when I returned home in the evening and greeted Chance.

It was the best holiday. Perhaps the last one. This week, or by next week at the latest, I’ll start settling accounts with Kay’s help.