Ch.63Work Record 012 – Seizing the Opportunity (8)

Those damn Legal Assassins. The Legal Assassination Team had exactly two functions. First, to handle legal matters according to company regulations and laws, and second, to prevent the need for the first function.

The prevention method was simple. If the cost of processing a case through legal channels and litigation was even one credit more expensive than the cost of shooting the plaintiff or opponent dead, they would finish the job with assassination. That’s all.

Generally, the Patent Division handling disputes between mega-corporations was the most elite, but as you went down the hierarchy, you could find plenty of ordinary lawyers who, despite the terrifying team name, weren’t familiar with assassination or firearms.

In most ultra-mega-corporations, the security team was typically larger than the Legal Assassination Team. In twisted industries like entertainment… well, who knows.

After spotting an empty space, I circled the parking lot once before parking. I couldn’t see anyone hiding somewhere in the parking lot. I got out first and opened the door for her, and Ms. Julia carefully stepped out carrying her two bodies.

Her full-body prosthetic was still creaking, but it wasn’t a major issue. I walked ahead of my client, who stayed close behind me with two bodies slung over her shoulder. The carbine’s control lever was set to full auto.

Since I was wearing a neck mic, I just mumbled under my breath. The device recognized vocal cord vibrations, so Chance could understand me without me having to speak clearly.

“Connect to T Entertainment and transmit the client’s information. Tell them we’ve arrived for the audition. Also, get me the security team deployment info. She said she was attacked in the waiting room.”

The waiting room was obviously inside the building. That meant people were inside, and there was no guarantee it wouldn’t be the same now. Chance’s mechanical voice sounded in my ear.

“Confirmed. Connecting to T Entertainment. They’ve responded that security measures are currently being implemented, so immediate assistance cannot be provided. It might be better to wait a moment…”

Two T Entertainment security personnel were standing at the parking lot exit. They wore bulletproof vests with patches bearing a single alphabet letter and helmets with transparent visors—typical attire for a mega-corporation’s security team.

Seeing us approach, they immediately aimed their guns and requested identification. The air felt heavy. They were also worried I might suddenly aim and fire at them.

“Stop right there! Identify yourselves before entering. Please understand that security protocols are strict due to the public audition. Our T Entertainment company…”

I started to turn my head to look at my client but stopped. If there was a security breach severe enough to prevent immediate identification, security personnel wouldn’t be standing here like this. I focused my eyes slightly.

Sweat was dripping inside the visor. Their lips were dry, and their breathing was short and choppy. Then, Chance’s voice came through my earpiece.

“There are no T Entertainment security personnel deployed at your current location. T Entertainment reports that their security crisis involves allowing external intrusion.”

I didn’t need to change my expression immediately. Without looking at my client, who was staring at me blankly with her two bodies slung over her shoulder, I spoke while keeping my eyes on the fake security team.

“Didn’t T Entertainment say they’d give us paper passes for security reasons? Did you bring them?”

She must have noticed the discomfort in my voice. I had clearly raised my tone compared to our conversation in the car. Instead of asking why I changed my voice, the client played along without hesitation.

“Oh? Uh, wait… Damn. I think I left them in the car. Please wait here a moment!”

She hurriedly ran back toward where we had parked, carrying her two bodies. The inner parking lot where no one was hiding was at least safer than here. Chance’s voice sounded again.

“I’ve requested T Entertainment to dispatch forces to the parking lot immediately. If you can stall for more than a minute, simply waiting should suffice. Act according to your visual assessment. I’ll assist.”

They were getting anxious. They weren’t sure if there really were paper passes, or if I had noticed something and sent the client to safety. They were feeling numerous anxieties and uncertainties. A minute would be too long.

I deliberately lowered my gun barrel and spoke. It was better to try to reassure them first.

“For someone trying to get into the entertainment industry… well, right?”

The less tense one of them lowered his gun first. I nudged the other fake security guard, who was still aiming his weapon, to lower his gun as well.

He spoke quite naturally. He was a man with visible dark stubble marks from an improperly shaved beard. It seemed like all veterans had a somewhat shabby appearance. Probably, at least.

“You’re less creaky than this guy, so that’s something. And security team members aren’t allowed to chat. You know that.”

He fell silent, probably thinking that saying more would lead to information leakage. Only thirty seconds had passed. All conversation topics had already been exhausted.

But at that moment, the more nervous rookie fake security guard nudged the veteran. His gaze shifted slightly to the side. Whatever he was going to say, it was more than enough.

I extended my hand in a semicircle with the hand I had lowered. The veteran, who had been watching my lowered hand, momentarily lost focus.

My hand moved between the frames his artificial eye could process, leaving only afterimages in his vision. By the time the afterimages disappeared from his sight, my fist was already striking his visor.

The bulletproof performance of the visor wasn’t particularly outstanding, even for Bellwether security team issue. As the veteran lost his balance and slid across the floor after being hit by my fist, I immediately raised my carbine.

The rookie was still in shock. While he was raising his gun barrel that he had momentarily lowered, I pulled the trigger during that split-second advantage I gained from using my Posthuman Type IV.

The recoil from firing disappeared, absorbed by my impact-absorbing skin and enhanced body strength. The bullet precisely penetrated the visor, and soon the inside of the visor became bloody as he collapsed.

I took a light step forward. As he tried to raise his gun to return fire while being knocked back by the force of a Posthuman Type IV’s strength, I stepped on the gun barrel and gently squeezed the trigger again. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. It would linger for a while.

His visor held up a bit better, but unfortunately, the bullet hit his neck between the helmet and bulletproof vest. With each heartbeat, the back of his neck became increasingly soaked in dark red. I pulled the trigger once more. Silence fell.

“Chance, contact T Entertainment. Tell them I’ve dealt with imposters posing as T Entertainment security in the parking lot… Ah, they’re here.”

As I was about to finish my report, security personnel in the same uniforms with yellow accents as the people I had just shot dead came running. Chance’s voice sounded in my ear.

“These are genuine T Entertainment security personnel. Please refrain from engaging.”

Hearing that, I placed my gun on the ground. My client, who had been hiding behind a nearby car instead of returning to our vehicle, came out creaking. A T Entertainment security officer looked her over and said:

“It’s an audition participant and her bodyguard. Lower your weapons! Damn, we found two dead employees in the bathroom and have been searching the entire building for these G Entertainment bastards…”

G Entertainment seemed to be much more skilled. They had positioned themselves at the parking lot entrance, which was somewhat distant from the building but not properly covered by surveillance cameras.

A woman with decent equipment—though not wearing a closed-type enhancement suit, showing she was far from military-grade security—stepped forward and gave a light salute.

“Charlotte Wegner, Captain of T Entertainment Security Mobile Unit 2. Thank you for dealing with the infiltrating hostile company’s Legal Assassination Team agents. We’ll escort the audition participant from here. Please hand her over to us. Ah, participant…”

My client still looked somewhat anxiously toward me. She didn’t seem to trust the security team that couldn’t even properly guard their own parking lot entrance.

She had two options: pretend to trust the unreliable security team and struggle to seize the opportunity, or openly show her distrust.

The latter was a much safer choice, but she decided not to stake everything on safety. The client gathered her two bodies with one arm and extended her hand to me.

“You mentioned you had trouble controlling your grip strength, right?”

Nevertheless, I reached out and took her hand. Though I tried to grip lightly, the prosthetic hand squeezed quite strongly, but it wasn’t a major concern. My grip was stronger.

A voice closer to the client’s original voice output from the full-body prosthetic. It was a somewhat kinder voice.

“I figured it wouldn’t matter to you. I’ll send your contact information to the company, so I hope I can hire you again next time. I’m transferring security to T Entertainment now! Oh, and I’ll deposit extra for your transportation. Take a taxi home!”

She had seized her opportunity. Everyone was trying to seize opportunities these days. Small ambitions, minor desires, things that had to be accomplished, things that could only be done now. Everyone was reaching out.

It wasn’t a particularly special time. It was just an ordinary last week of November. Thinking that a client who even covered taxi fare was as good as it gets, I removed my mask and bulletproof face shield.

There was no need to show intimidation anymore. I waved goodbye to the client and left T Entertainment’s parking lot, with all my weapons, mask, and bulletproof face shield packed in my bag.

As I was looking for a taxi service to call while sitting on a bench in front of a holographic bush near the company… a large Bellwether logo appeared on my phone screen. Looking up in confusion, I saw a luxury sedan stopped nearby.

The first person who came to mind who would ride such a car was President Yoon. Someone in a well-tailored suit with porcelain-white prosthetic hands would suit such a car.

However, when the car door opened, what I saw was a partition. It seemed designed to hide whoever was sitting behind the driver’s seat. The Bellwether logo appeared above that partition.

A familiar voice was heard. The voice of someone I wasn’t sure whether to hate or simply consider efficiency-driven—someone whose true answer I could no longer properly determine. Someone higher than the Shepherd.

“Arthur Murphy, general employee of Yakyung Mercenary Agency. Get in for a moment. I have something to discuss. I don’t have the authority to officially summon an employee of a partner company, so this is just a request.”

After saying that, perhaps realizing his words sounded more like coercion, he continued:

“If you want, I can even temporarily lift the gun lock. It’s your choice. However, I’d appreciate if you understood that I have something urgent to discuss.”

The Shepherd at least understood that I had been expelled from Bellwether, but the Branch Director who had directly ordered my records erased was treating me like a complete stranger.

I resist the urge to grind my teeth. He was one of the Walter candidates. Everyone was seizing opportunities. Should I seize mine too? This opportunity was right in front of me.

I picked up my gun bag, stood up, and got into the open back seat. Despite the partition, the space was quite spacious. That’s what makes a luxury car.

As I sat down, the door closed automatically, and the Branch Director’s voice began to sound from beyond the partition. I needed to figure out his purpose. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was possible. I definitely touched the back of my neck.

“Do you enjoy classical music?”

“They always played it after shooting practice at Bellwether-owned schools. Said it soothes the ears.”

“Excellent. Wagner, then. Entry of the Gods into Valhalla.”

Classical music I didn’t recognize began playing, and the car started moving. The sound of the doors locking felt oddly oppressive, suggesting I was tense.

For him, the music wasn’t particularly important. He began speaking before the introduction even started.

“You are… quite an unpredictable person, aren’t you? Coincidentally. Fortunately. Just in time. Aren’t you quite familiar with these words? How do you always manage to be in the right place at the right time?”

Coincidentally, I met a client who knew someone at Ron Star who was acting suspiciously. Fortunately, the Bellwether Los Angeles Branch Director… no, this wasn’t fortune. He had sought me out.

What was he trying to say? Was there a common thread in the things I’d experienced? No. I had simply handled whatever jobs came my way without discrimination. There was nothing else.

After carefully choosing my words, I responded. I decided to believe he simply didn’t want to set a precedent. For now, at least.

“I’m just moving diligently and efficiently. I’m here because I didn’t refuse a call from my boss at 7:30 in the morning, and everything else happened because I willingly completed the assignments I was given. Do you think there’s another reason?”

The sound that came from behind the partition wasn’t an answer but applause. Though meant to express admiration, it was a dry, perfunctory clapping sound.

“Exemplary. Yes. Perhaps you’re unpredictable because you’re a person who works diligently and efficiently. That’s why I’m telling you this. Bellwether would like to offer you reinstatement.”

His word choice was strange. He wasn’t using terms like scout, headhunt, or job opportunity, but “reinstatement.” This from the very person who had erased my records.

When he first met me, the Branch Director spoke as if we had no connection, but now he was acknowledging I had worked at Bellwether and talking about reinstatement. Something was off.

I try to defuse with laughter. I decided to play dumb. Before that, I glanced out the window. The car was heading toward Pasadena. The direction of Bellwether headquarters.

“How can someone who has never worked at Bellwether be reinstated? I don’t understand why a Branch Director would seek out a mere partner company employee. None of this makes sense.”

He responded almost immediately. Can he see me from behind that partition? Is it a one-way mirror structure? Probably.

“Do you really think that answer is sufficient? This is the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to reclaim the life that was taken from you. Isn’t that right?”

What happened to make the Branch Director suddenly try to recruit me? There weren’t many events that could be turning points. First was receiving Chance and the grenade rifle connected to him.

The other was hearing about Mr. Kasim from my client. The latter would be impossible to know unless they were tapping all cars in the city. Is the Branch Director Walter? That’s a question I can’t ask.

Then I should assume it’s the first reason. Why does the Branch Director need me? It must be because I’m a Posthuman Type IV who can handle that war-era grenade rifle. The question is why.

I couldn’t tell if he thought I was needed to suppress a coup, like when the Shepherd gave me that grenade rifle, or if he wanted to use me as a variable for the coup, like Walter had intended.

But the timing was too perfect. Black Friday was coming, and when work started flooding into Bellwether, I would get a chance to peek inside. That would happen tomorrow.

Just yesterday I received Chance, and today I heard Mr. Kasim’s story. The Branch Director appearing at this timing seemed like he was telling me to stop and turn back.

Which side should I bet on? I refuse to be a cog in the machine again without knowing anything. Absolutely not. Compulsive thoughts rose, and I answered with half-impulse.

“It seems my answer wasn’t sufficient for you, Branch Director. And I don’t know what life you’re referring to.”

This isn’t a farewell by my own will. Probably. No. It was a farewell under duress, for the sake of pretense.

“The only life I’ve lost to inefficiency was the six months I spent unemployed after graduating from Bellwether Security Training University until I got a job at Yakyung. It’s a fascinating offer, but you’ve got the wrong person.”

The car had almost reached Bellwether headquarters. My answer came before passing through the main gate, and the car stopped before passing through as well. The door opened, and a familiar phrase came from behind the partition.

“You’re always uncooperative, aren’t you.”

This time I didn’t give in to impulse. I didn’t curtly reply, “Because I don’t know what I’d be cooperating with.” I quietly got out. Yes, it had been a truly strange week.

From an aspiring actress to the Bellwether Los Angeles Branch Director, everyone was struggling to seize opportunities this week. It couldn’t help but be strange.