Ch.64Work Record 013 – To the Sky (1)

The car carrying the branch manager, or rather, a car with no one inside the partition for safety and only communications connected, disappeared into Belvedere. The music was just beginning as the doors closed.

Everyone was choosing sides. Am I the first, or am I the last? Probably the first. Variables should be dealt with first. If the branch manager was a Belvedere person, he would have thought the same.

If so, there was still a moment of time left. I still had time to spend with Kay. I pressed the neck microphone button that I had been fiddling with as soon as I got into the car.

The recording was successful. Once again, I kept my mouth closed and only rolled my voice inside my mouth. The CCTVs near the main entrance had voice recording capabilities.

“Preset Bravo-Whiskey. Save.”

It could be useful regardless of which side I joined. Although it was a somewhat censored voice, the branch manager spoke to everyone in this censored voice anyway. It was something he brought upon himself.

At least I was being efficient and cunning. If I continued like this, I could survive. Perhaps instead of “You don’t need to know anything, so return,” I might receive a definite request for reinstatement.

I knew well that there was no possibility. The erasure of my records was an issue that involved the Chairman. Would the Chairman even care about the LA branch? The person who appointed branch managers because they couldn’t be everywhere?

Even when I want to dream, efficient thinking gets in the way. This time, I properly called a taxi and returned to the office with its night view.

Fortunately, Chance was connected now, so I didn’t need to use my phone for reporting. I placed my hand on my ear and called Chance.

“Chance, please report to President Yoon that I’ve completed the request. I need to rest today…”

After showering at the office and changing clothes, I returned to the apartment complex, to the space I could overwhelmingly call my home. I opened the door with the still unfamiliar metal key.

I thought the night duty room was enough, but the feeling of having a space that was mine alone was much better than I had thought. I went straight to the bedroom and lightly pressed the bed.

It was still too soft. As I was about to turn my head, Chance’s voice came from behind me.

“I would like to recommend a psychiatric examination, Agent Arthur Murphy. Close observation reveals signs of post-traumatic stress disorder. I recommend visiting in the near future.”

I thought it would take longer until someone pointed it out. Resisting the urge to scratch the tingling sensation around my neck, I nodded for now.

“Since I’ve died and come back to life, it would be strange if I didn’t have it. But still, I’m functioning properly in daily life, aren’t I? Give me a little more time, Chance.”

As Chance was about to say something more, I continued. I didn’t know if it was the right approach, but there was something I needed to do with a clear mind right now.

“Before I go see a counselor to look at pictures or shapes, or sit in an outdated plush chair and pour out my story, I need to settle accounts first.”

“I don’t have the necessary information to infer what you’re talking about.”

“The things that killed me. I need to settle with Walter who exploited my death. I need to settle with the monster that tore my neck and above from my body. Fundamentally, I need to settle with Belvedere’s inefficiency that killed me.”

With each statement, my fists clenched tighter. I knew well that my state wasn’t exactly normal. Harboring hatred was inefficient.

Harboring it is inefficient. So it must be resolved. It was a natural causality. If I eliminated all of them, the hatred would subside. Perhaps.

Nothing was certain, but that was the only method I could think of. Was this really a situation requiring treatment as Chance suggested? I looked at the blinking light of the server computer while trying to calm my boiling insides.

Chance neither affirmed nor denied. Only a mechanical response came back. That response sounded the most human.

“Is it possible for an employee of a private military company to eliminate the inefficiency of the economic entity that controls the city? Based on close observation, it appears that the individual named Walter is at the center of this inefficiency.”

Fortunately, I wasn’t doing this alone. I didn’t want to start a revolution or overturn Belvedere. What I wanted was normalization.

“Don’t worry, I’m not saying I’ll do it alone. There are more people who want to eliminate inefficiency. I’m just adding my strength to that.”

There was a brief operating sound from Chance’s server computer. Then, his voice continued.

“Does maintaining Belvedere Corporation’s efficiency benefit the lives and safety of Los Angeles citizens?”

It was time to persuade an artificial intelligence again. I took a deep breath. I cooled my mind. I pushed down the hatred that was raising its head and shoved it back below the surface of consciousness.

“Of course. The public power maintaining law and order in the Greater Los Angeles area is owned by Belvedere Corporation. If Belvedere’s internal power structure becomes unstable, the security of the Greater Los Angeles area will also become unstable.”

This time wouldn’t be as easy as the last. The previous Chance was a soldier lost in time, serving a war that had already ended, but now he was closer to being a friend.

“If the coup that Agent Arthur Murphy anticipates occurs, and a corporate civil war breaks out during the suppression of that coup, the repercussions will reach ordinary citizens. Does it still bring benefits?”

I wondered how much weight a human life carried in the era Chance lived in. Even during that war, which nearly annihilated the population from nearly one hundred and thirty billion to around forty billion, was it similar to now?

Maybe not. At the very least, life might have had more value then, which is why we still refer to that war as “that war.”

“To have the smallest corporate civil war, we need to strike back. If we remain silent and the entire branch is taken over, the headquarters security team will come, and then we’d have to call it a corporate war, not a civil war. Do you understand what I mean?”

“I understand. I had hoped to choose the best option if not available, at least a second-best, but it seems there’s only the worst and many lesser evils. Is Agent Arthur Murphy’s purpose still the same?”

Chance becoming increasingly accustomed to this era wasn’t particularly pleasant. At least I could give him a definite answer, which I gladly did.

“Still the same. To ensure no one loses their life to inefficiency. That’s all I’ve learned.”

“It’s difficult to determine whether Agent Arthur Murphy received education or brainwashing. However, this seems to be the only moment I can choose the second-best option. I will affirm.”

Even I couldn’t give a proper answer to something I wasn’t sure about, so Chance couldn’t have given a clear answer either. After reconnecting to my phone, I showed a smile through the camera.

“Don’t worry, Chance. It doesn’t matter either way. Whoever tried to shape my thoughts, I can still think with my own mind, and whoever cultivated my body, I’m still the one moving it.”

An olive-colored border appeared around the front camera of my phone, indicating Chance had connected. After analyzing my facial expression, he responded.

“William Ernest Henley.”

“Who’s that?”

Instead of answering, Chance displayed a large green check mark on the phone screen, indicating he would trust me. His answer came afterward.

“One of the poets from a bygone era. I made the connection through context analysis. I look forward to you looking it up sometime.”

I didn’t look it up right away. That day was devoted entirely to rest. I needed to rest today. Choosing Friday as the day to start planning wasn’t simply about postponing.

I was waiting for the Black Friday sale alerts that were starting to flood my phone to intensify and build momentum. The success rate was highest when traffic reached its peak.

I deliberately turned off my biological clock and slept for nearly eight hours. With this much sleep, I could operate without sleep for a few days in this enhanced body. Perhaps the only part of me that remained.

When I woke up in the evening, I felt hungry for the first time in a while. Unfortunately, I only knew one restaurant in this area. I put on some clothes and headed to Günter’s restaurant.

As I entered in my disheveled state, Günter, who was sitting behind the counter reading a paper book, got up. He chuckled before speaking.

“You’ve really become a local, Metzgerhund. Will you have the usual again?”

“Something more filling than that. I’d like to make do with calorie packs if I could buy them somewhere… but since that’s not possible, I want to at least fill my stomach properly.”

Günter, putting his cooking mask back on, started slicing meat from the rotating chunk with evident pleasure in moving his own body.

Inside the kitchen, the sound of restaurant operation drones activating the fryer could be heard. Günter subtly asked.

“Are you experiencing frustration, Metzgerhund?”

Not understanding what he meant, I answered according to the most intuitive meaning. My appetite was being sufficiently satisfied. Sleep desire was under control. Only one thing remained.

“I saw what happened to a senior who liked women. I don’t want to risk my life for a one-night stand, and I have bad memories with clone brothels.”

Günter burst into light laughter. A plate of kebab with mixed lamb and chicken, and a plate of well-fried real potato fries that glistened with oil were served. Nothing satisfied desire better than this.

He pulled up the chair in front of me and sat down. Removing his cooking mask, with clear vitality gleaming through his artificial eye that resembled a human’s but was clearly synthetic, he spoke.

“That’s not what I meant, Metzgerhund. It’s more intuitive than you think. I’m asking if there’s something you want to do but can’t.”

Settlement. Those two words came to mind first. Settlement was all that remained, though I could no longer tell if it was a delusion or a proper desire. My fingertips tingled slightly.

“Doesn’t everyone live with such things? People who do everything they want aren’t called human.”

To hide the tingling in my fingertips, I dipped meat and fries and chewed them unnecessarily. It’s real. Everything is real. Everything in this restaurant was real, but something felt off.

Günter clicked his tongue and shook his head. The gleaming look in his eyes softened a bit, and his voice changed to a more persuasive and coaxing tone.

“Those who can’t do even what they want should be called slaves. If you want something, and…”

As those words brushed past, what came to mind wasn’t settlement but Ms. Eve. I began to understand why Ms. Eve had said that sometimes even thinking can be a sin.

“If you want something but can’t do it, what’s the reason? It’s just an old man’s meddling, so speak freely. Is it something you shouldn’t do? Or something others told you not to do? Is it dangerous? Maybe it’s a bad thing.”

He flicked his prosthetic finger, and one of the restaurant operation drones flew to our side. The drone operated with only the small noise of its propellers turning. Günter tapped the drone a few times.

“Do you know the difference between a machine and a human, Metzgerhund? Do you also know the difference between a slave and a human?”

Since he didn’t seem to be expecting an answer from me, I shook my head. Sometimes it’s better to say you don’t know even if you do.

“I’m more specialized in shooting guns than existential philosophy.”

“That’s why it’s important, my friend. A gun is a killing tool. Security team training is ultimately training in killing techniques. Isn’t it important to know what you’re killing?”

After hearing that, I thought about it more seriously, but still couldn’t come up with an answer. I shrugged and replied.

“You’re not expecting me to say that machines and slaves obey while humans choose, are you?”

I’ve heard that somewhere before. I couldn’t remember where. It was probably a few months before graduating from Belvedere’s university, when my graduation was already confirmed but I was anxious about the future and spent all day searching the net.

Günter burst into hearty laughter. Looking at me with the expression of a father looking at his son, he answered.

“You’re human, but there are times when you can’t choose, aren’t there? Machines produce and humans enjoy. Slaves obey, and humans enjoy. The important thing is to enjoy. To make the situation your own.”

Enjoyment. It was a word so dusty and old that I had barely heard it properly. Günter continued. His voice had become much softer.

“So, think about it. What would make you happy? What would make you feel liberated and comfortable? You don’t have to say it out loud.”

I couldn’t tell whether the thought of Ms. Eve not crying at the hologram of the Hollowed Creek cult or beating the unknown Walter to death came to mind first. The two thoughts flashed through my mind almost simultaneously.

No. I know. The latter came first. The thought of throwing this body, Belvedere’s biological weapon, with all my might and smashing Walter with my own hands and feet came first. It’s somewhat shameful.

Günter, who had been leisurely examining my expression, spoke with a smile still on his face.

“Do that. It’s okay even if it’s crazy. That’s what you need to do to become human. If anything catches fire, use it as gasoline to burn. Go faster. Quicker. More productively. More…”

His eyes were shining with clear and vivid mania. It was a very ordinary expression, yet a very unusual one. My fingertips trembled involuntarily, and a chill ran up the back of my neck.

Günter gestured for me to say the next words, as if he wanted me to try. I knew what words would come next. I recited them like religious people say amen.

“Efficiently. To anywhere better than the mire we’re standing in now. Damn. When a colleague called me an efficiency freak, I didn’t feel it, but now I’m starting to.”

I tried to end with a joke, but Günter’s artificial eyes were already looking at me with satisfaction. What I had said was one of Belvedere’s tenets. One of the words I still hadn’t forgotten.

It was perhaps the most chilling situation I could have encountered after coming out for a comfortable dinner and planning to visit Kay, but nothing more happened.

Or perhaps something had already happened.