Ch.73013 Work Record – To the Sky (10)

“Quick decision. Good. Let’s get up then. We’ll walk to the car.”

To think she wants me to walk with a leg that still has bullet holes not fully healed. She had that expression suggesting her harpoon hunter shouldn’t be unable to walk on his own.

At least there were crutches in the hospital room. Should I be grateful she’s not making me walk on a leg with holes in it? I couldn’t tell.

Only then did the silence zone disappear. I tapped Kay’s drone and spoke. It seemed it would take a bit longer until I could return to the company.

Still, knowing that the chairman of Bellwether Corporation was on my side made my fear fade somewhat. I felt like I could gather strength and move my body.

“Please return alone. I now have a way, don’t I? I’d appreciate if you could tell them I’ll be returning to the company soon. Oh, and Chairman, regarding the communication to Nightscape…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve personally censored it. Walter will send the Legal Assassination Team to investigate, but if they can’t even pass one routine inspection, they’re just unqualified nobodies. Since they’re your colleagues, I believe that won’t be the case.”

She was the warmest among the cold people I knew. She exuded exactly the same atmosphere as Bellwether. I let out a hollow laugh, then watched as Kay’s drone flew low and left the hospital.

I stand up using the crutches. However, no matter how much I searched around, my external voice module was nowhere to be found. The device connected to Chance had disappeared.

I bit my lip. Even my conversation history with Walter’s brother was in there. The only fortunate thing was that Chance’s location was on the server computer in my home.

The key question is what happened during these three days. If they’ve already finished searching my house, the chances of finding Chance were slim. And the grenade rifle… damn, I left that at the scene too.

Even without that recording file, there shouldn’t be a problem… but damn, it felt bad knowing all my preparations had been neutralized. I stepped out of the room, pressing the crutch against the floor while slightly bending my leg that wasn’t fully healed.

Mr. Günter created a small silence zone around us by slightly moving the third and fourth fingers of his prosthetic hand, then spoke. He smiled as he saw me walking without complaint.

“You can’t get into a gunfight with the Legal Assassination Team on a limping leg. I’ve already called for the HR representative from headquarters and a mobile operating room.”

How many times have I heard the word “headquarters” today? Headquarters had always been too distant for me. I was beginning to realize just how vast the world was beyond the Greater Los Angeles area.

Human Resources handled all employee hiring, promotions, and job changes. If a security department employee was promoted to the special operations or assault department, they would also handle the modification surgery. It was an appropriate call.

“If you don’t want it, you could remain an offliner, but… if you want, we could give you the same procedures that the real headquarters security special ops team or the chairman’s bodyguards receive. What do you want? Which is more precious to you?”

He was asking me to choose between an unmodified body and efficiency. The former wasn’t precious to me at all. This wasn’t even my original body anyway. My original body had its neck torn and was thrown into a waste container.

“What I’ve always felt with this body is that it doesn’t have a computational assist device implanted, and no UI appears in my vision. I was planning to save money from mercenary work and replace my eyes first…”

Mr. Günter let out a hearty laugh. He was the only one who wasn’t censored, and the only one who knew uncensored information.

“You contracted for a house first. Well, it’s not a bad choice. Humans are fragile. If your mind isn’t at ease, you won’t be efficient no matter how expensive the attachments are. Now seems like the right time. Do you think it will be a major operation?”

“Not compared to creating a new Posthuman Type IV for someone with only a head left, right?”

“Ha! Right. I almost forgot how many times you’ve died. Walter must be wondering how many times he needs to kill you before you don’t come back.”

It was quite a tasteless joke. Should I not laugh in this situation? I decided not to worry about it. I wanted to laugh. After laughing moderately, I said:

“I don’t have time to consider Walter. I’m tired of dying too. The procedure…”

“Will start as soon as we arrive. Since Type IV has a good base, it won’t take that long, and there won’t be that much organic waste either. You know what you’re wearing.”

What I was wearing was something comparable in performance to the full-body prosthesis Vola had. I limped into the elevator. After resting briefly against the elevator wall, we soon arrived at the parking lot.

But as soon as the parking lot door opened, I saw two closed-type reinforcement suits with Bellwether’s logo, holding rifles. The rifles they held were subsonic ammunition types with silencers attached.

Legal Assassination Team.

My body moved first. Before they could say anything, I dropped the crutch and pushed off the ground with my intact left leg.

They were only three or four meters away. It was hard to maintain balance with one leg not fully functional, but at such a close distance, I could try. At this close range.

It might have been sufficient distance to subdue another suspect… but they seemed to have overlooked the fact that I was wearing a Type IV. The basic principle for subduing a Type IV is to fire from a distance of 15 meters.

But my body didn’t move forward. Mr. Günter’s palm was blocking me. He clicked his tongue a couple of times and shook his head.

“Bellwether, handle it. I commend your diligence, but… well, this is the source of your efficiency. Let’s go to the car.”

The two Legal Assassination Team agents… seemed unable to see ahead. Their artificial eyes had been deactivated to prevent them from recognizing the chairman. The safety locks on their rifles automatically engaged and wouldn’t release.

Almost simultaneously, the breathing system of their closed-type reinforcement suits began to exhaust. They dropped their guns and reached to remove their helmets, but a lock indicator appeared on the visor of the closed-type reinforcement suit.

With their artificial eyes already off, the Legal Assassination Team agents couldn’t even see the lock indicator, and they slowly suffocated—slower than being shot, but faster than most deaths. A hollow laugh escaped me.

“You could just walk into Bellwether headquarters, grab Walter, drag him out, make him kneel, and scold him.”

Mr. Günter’s pickup truck unlocked with a beeping sound, and he shrugged.

“I considered it, but it’s inefficient. All I would gain is the satisfaction of punishing the coup leader with my own hands, and what I would lose are field operatives who think and act on their own.”

If they learned that the chairman could kill them with a single thought-command from anywhere, only fear would spread. Saying that those devoted to the company would be fine wouldn’t help.

He needed a proxy. Someone who could handle things with justification and appropriate methods, creating a more realistic picture than simply pressing the “process” button repeatedly. That proxy seemed to be me.

Still… the fact that he could dispose of people with just a thought remained unchanged. The fact that Mr. Günter wouldn’t do it also remained unchanged. I wasn’t sure if I should say it was okay or not. It was ambiguous.

Nevertheless, the car drove on. Mr. Günter drove comfortably with one arm resting on the window frame. He spoke as if it were trivial:

“Oh, and… more charges have been added to your wanted list. Bellwether edited the footage to make it look like you jumped out of the elevator and killed two agents despite your injured leg.”

Right. Even reality can be censored, and truth can be manufactured in this era. My stomach churned again after feeling somewhat better from our joking exchange. Mr. Günter’s car headed to a logistics warehouse on the outskirts of LA.

We walked through a line of trucks without Bellwether logos, parked with their trailers detached in a huge garage area filled with trucks. My arms were getting sore.

The chairman opened the door of one of those trailers as comfortably as entering his home. Despite it already being December, the air conditioning was running. LA often had days exceeding 20 degrees even in December.

An employee sitting inside the trailer stood up. His entire body was prosthetic, merely wrapped in artificial skin. It was high-quality skin, so there was no smell, but the texture was slightly different.

He raised his hand in salute with his elbow slightly bent, spreading his thumb, index, and middle fingers widely. It wasn’t the Bellwether salute I knew.

“For the company, its employees, and shareholders. Nightscape’s Arthur Murphy, general employee, I am Herman McCoy, HR manager of the Bellwether headquarters personnel management team. The chairman personally requested the procedure, and headquarters HR will perform it.”

“Ah, yes. I heard that much. May I know the procedure?”

“The injured area will be replaced with rapidly cultivated spare parts before the procedure takes place. Recovery through preservation fluid would take longer, you see.”

I had been lying down for at least 3 days. Even at normal cultivation speed, that would have been enough time to create parts, if not an entire body. After sighing, I asked:

“I’d like to hear and confirm what modifications are included in the procedure.”

“Very well. Tendons, joints, and the back of the hands will be replaced with mechanical parts superior to Type IV. A drug injector that also serves as a life support system will be attached along the spine…”

He turned on a hologram projector embedded in his palm under the artificial skin and began showing the procedure areas. Since I was essentially a pure human wearing a Posthuman, this was necessary.

“Eye modifications, computational assist device installation, and a radio interference module will also be installed. Are there any additional modules you would like?”

“Please install a voice module. I have effectively and efficiently used a vocal cord compression voice module before. And since I’ve recorded Walter’s voice as well, I need it for use.”

Mr. Günter patted my back once, like a father proud of his son. The returned children were all raised according to Bellwether’s will, according to Mr. Günter’s thoughts and intentions. Did he feel like they were his children?

“You should have said so earlier. Oh, and the radio interference… will turn not just you but everyone around you into offliners. But among them, you’re the only one skilled at fighting as an offliner.”

If it meant I could share my hardship with everyone, I welcomed it. I sighed deeply and nodded. I was moved to the cultivation tank placed inside the trailer, in front of Herman.

I was born here. Created in Panacea Meditech’s cultivation tank. And once again, I was reborn in Jack’s laboratory. This would be my third rebirth.

But there was a difference. This time it was my choice. This time I would walk in on my own feet. After undressing, I entered the cultivation tank. Blue preservation fluid began to fill the tank.

The fluid had a slightly higher density than water, so cables secured my ankles to prevent my body from floating. I bit down on a hose that approached my mouth and consciously closed my esophagus as I inhaled the preservation fluid.

There was an unpleasant feeling of preservation fluid filling my lungs, but I ignored it. The preservation fluid began delivering oxygen from within my heavily filled lungs. A voice came through the speakers inside the cultivation tank.

“The anesthetic is mixed with the respiratory preservation fluid. Since you have a Posthuman Type IV enhanced body, it will take about two or three minutes. Please remain comfortable even if you feel stiffness.”

While listening to those words, the preservation fluid completely filled the cultivation tank. I entrusted my wrists to cables coming down from the top of the tank. I was fixed in a standing position with both arms extended.

Thanks to the restraints not being too tight, all I felt was the comfort of floating in water. Slowly, my consciousness began to blur. I’m not sure how many times I’ve felt this sensation, but this time it was my choice.

Since it wasn’t a lengthy procedure, my consciousness wasn’t transferred to virtual reality. My consciousness gradually sank into the waters of unconsciousness. My sense of time blurred first, then gradually the sensations of my body began to fade away.

This time it wasn’t death. This time it was life. This time it wasn’t the end of failure. This time it was success.

With a final thought crossing my mind and a final clench of my fist, I surrendered to the anesthetic.

This awakening felt very quick. First, I felt strength returning to the fist I had clenched when losing consciousness, then awareness spread from my forearm throughout my body.

I open my eyes. I was in the trailer where I had fallen asleep. The cables restraining my wrists and ankles were released… no, this isn’t the time to check that. I deliberately blink once.

A HUD overlays my vision. I could see augmented reality superimposed on my view. Finally, I was back on top of this high-speed era. Regaining convenience, regaining speed.

The preservation fluid drained away. I pulled out the hose and spat out the fluid, and when the preservation fluid had completely drained, I stood firmly on both feet. I felt no pain at all in my right thigh.

The sensation of moving my body was different from usual. While I couldn’t move until the cleaning of the preservation fluid on my body was complete, my mind was filled with anticipation to an almost terrible degree.

A voice module covered with artificial skin was implanted in my nape. After confirming the life support system installed in the skin of my neck, I consciously test it.

Just as I had asked the AI assistant on my last day at Bellwether, I felt a sharp pain that quickly disappeared. Perfect.

After the cleaning finished, the front glass of the cultivation tank opened, and unlike when I had entered struggling with crutches, I could walk out smoothly.

I couldn’t call Chance. It was certain that Chance had been recovered. When the time came to raid the headquarters, I would need to retrieve Chance and the grenade rifle first. I hoped the Shepherd hadn’t destroyed Chance.

Although the procedure had started during the day, it was dawn when it finished, but Mr. Günter was still standing in front of the cultivation tank waiting. The mobile operating room appeared to be connected trailers, including the one we had entered.

Mr. Günter spoke with eyes full of vivid mania again. The content of his words was warm, contrary to that gaze.

“I’m dying to see how quickly you adapt to the wider world. Just as software is bound by hardware, the mind is bound by the body. With a new body, your mind must be clearer too. Do you have a plan?”

I’ve always had plans. What needed to be done has always been obvious. I just couldn’t do it. Not anymore.

“I will intentionally expose my location to the Legal Assassination Team, who are certainly being used as Walter’s pawns, including today’s attack.”

Words that had been blocked poured out the moment I could speak. There were so many things I could now do that I didn’t know what to say I would do.

Various emotions surged, but above all else… I felt joy. I was enjoying this.

“Walter still doesn’t know that the chairman has arrived in LA, and he thinks I easily handled the Legal Assassination Team agents despite my injured body.”

At first, I was attacked by general employees. The ones who attacked us this time were wearing closed-type reinforcement suits, so they were at least not general employees. The ranks were getting higher.

Everything can be used. Everything must be used. Efficiency is good. Inefficiency is evil! Walter also talked to me about efficiency.

We’re heading in the same direction, so whoever moves more efficiently and faster will win.

“So, he will send higher-ranking Legal Assassination Team agents than before for my definitive elimination. He’ll send at least a section chief. After disposing of them, I’ll put their head in a cultivation fluid tank and bring it back.”

“And then?”

“I know how powerless and honest a person becomes the moment they realize they’re just a head, and the power over the gray matter inside that head lies with the person in front of them.”

To avenge myself and his brother against Walter, simply killing him wouldn’t be enough. I need to completely expose his plans and thoroughly neutralize them. I will strangle him slowly.