Ch.86[CENSORED] – War of Brothers (6)

The proposal was accepted.

A gag order was issued to the Special Operations Division of Lone Star Rangers, which had been clearing out mercenary companies that sided with the coup.

A gag order was issued to all ninety-nine members of the assault team and all team leaders who had communicated with agents within Belwether.

A gag order was issued to the nurse at the private hospital connected to Security Team Leader Gerard McNamara’s network.

The truth disappears, and a more sensational truth takes its place. It wasn’t truth, but because the rule-maker wished it to be true, it became truth.

Belwether’s downtown emergency lockdown was gradually being lifted. Large buildings began raising their bulletproof panels, and people in smaller buildings received messages that they could once again observe or film the outside.

The first to seize this opportunity were, of course, the media outlets. The anchors of Turner & Tucker, who merely recited information received from Belwether, knew how to speak as if they were uncovering unknown truths.

“The news closest to the truth! The news most free from censorship. Daily Los Angeles brings you breaking news!”

People didn’t particularly trust Turner & Tucker’s news. They generally viewed it as merely a channel for what major corporations wanted to release.

“The downtown emergency lockdown issued by Belwether this morning has just been lifted as of 9 PM. According to information provided by Belwether, within the Los Angeles branch, under the branch director’s leadership…”

Even the anchor paused momentarily. This was truth too raw for them to handle. Though they diligently played the role of truth-telling reporters, they knew this wasn’t really their job.

But they were professionals. The shock from that raw truth lingered for barely a second. The anchor cleared his throat and continued.

“I apologize. According to information provided by Belwether, a coup by the Legal Assassination Team occurred within the Los Angeles branch under the branch director’s leadership, and it was suppressed under the Security Team’s direction.”

From start to finish, the coup took roughly… twelve hours. According to Turner & Tucker’s intelligence network, gunfire within the building stopped around eleven. The time after that would have been spent on cleanup.

So… it wasn’t slow? If the information processing team worked hard, it was enough time to handle everything. So they really did provide the materials right after finishing. The reason was unclear.

The Turner & Tucker anchor thought this must be a purge. Using allegations of coup plotting to clean out inefficient departments… No, that wasn’t right. Belwether wasn’t that kind of company.

So was it a real coup? But why? The numerous questions in the anchor’s mind were somewhat resolved by the next material shown on screen.

Several photographs. Different locations, but only one person captured. A man with navy blue hair swept back to reveal his forehead, wearing black Belwether-made artificial eyes.

Images of him glancing at the outskirts of drug dealers’ streets, fighting Legal Assassination Team agents in a censored hospital parking garage elevator, and making contact with Lone Star Rangers leadership.

“These are photos of Adrian Goodman, section chief from the research team, who played a major role in the quick and efficient suppression of the coup. He is the brother of Walter Goodman, the branch director who led the coup, and a researcher who voluntarily participated in Post-Human Type IV enhanced body improvement experiments.”

Such a juicy piece of meat would benefit Turner & Tucker, the viewers, and Belwether itself. A brother suppressing a coup initiated by his own brother. It might seem cliché in a movie, but not in reality.

After previewing the next material, the anchor said something not in the script. His expression visibly contorted for a moment on air. It was clearly intentional.

“The following material may contain disturbing images, so please be advised. Adrian Goodman, section chief…”

What appeared on screen was footage of a monstrosity. Security camera footage from inside the building, showing a biotechnological monstrosity fleeing after its head was blown apart by an unnamed ordinary employee’s struggle, yet somehow surviving.

To demonstrate that even the cold-blooded Turner & Tucker news anchor couldn’t properly continue, the anchor deliberately trembled his lips and stalled for time. Exactly two and a half seconds.

“Due to a terrorist incident during enhanced body performance improvement experiments, nanomachines went berserk, causing him to escape the company in this horrific state. However, the nanomachines couldn’t completely kill his rationality!”

Those words were written in Belwether’s press guidelines with instructions not to change even a single letter. It was mockery directed at Walter. It was taking away even the pretext of rationality from his hands.

Non-existent footage continued playing. Images of Adrian Goodman tearing apart the endlessly growing appendages from his own body, regaining his human form, and burning the randomly proliferating flesh controlled by nanomachines spread throughout Los Angeles.

Everything looked so real. The image of a person repeatedly saying “I am Adrian Goodman” to reclaim his identity, and even the writhing of the burning flesh masses.

Was such a thing possible through human willpower? The Turner & Tucker anchor felt something closer to awe than doubt. Viewers probably felt the same.

“After escaping far from Belwether’s building and regaining himself, Section Chief Adrian Goodman began investigating the incident that had transformed him. He uncovered the coup plot behind it… and his own brother.”

Belwether’s purpose was clearly to transform the coup into a hero myth. To show a hero who, despite losing all human form, rose through willpower, rationality, and desire for efficiency to suppress the coup.

“Although his body was collapsing due to nanomachine side effects, and even his rationality wouldn’t last long, nevertheless! He decided to carry out one final task for the company he had dedicated himself to.”

Next came footage supposedly filmed at today’s coup suppression scene. It showed Adrian rising after being shot down by Special Operations forces at the entrance to the executive wing.

It showed him activating his nanomachines, which had been nothing but a curse until now, and tearing apart Special Operations agents with regenerated limbs. The footage ended as he entered the executive wing.

If Belwether wanted incitement, then incitement it would be. The Turner & Tucker anchor seemed to forget the purpose of information delivery and launched into an impassioned speech. This was why he was the prime-time anchor.

“That task was what happened during today’s security lockdown. One Belwether employee saved an entire branch!”

Now all that was needed was one word. One word that could tie all these events together. The anchor quickly created that word.

“This isn’t a coup and its suppression. This is a tragedy. The demise of a man who had to wage war against his own flesh and blood who chose inefficiency, a man who chose efficiency and good over blood ties. For more detailed news about the coup…”

Before he could say “check the following news,” one more urgent piece of information arrived. It was a live broadcast. Footage filmed inside what appeared to be Belwether’s research wing or somewhere nearby, in a completely censored room.

In that footage lay Adrian. Neither monster nor human, in an ambiguous body with dozens or hundreds of appendages protruding, dying.

Text appeared on the prompter again. The anchor read it while maintaining his composure. The will of a major corporation they frequently dealt with was more important than journalistic duty.

“We have a live feed connected from within Belwether headquarters. Adrian Goodman, section chief…”

The anchor counted silently to himself. He needed to count to four. After activating his tear ducts, he dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief and spoke.

“I apologize. Here I am like this while a person in that condition is trying to leave words behind. It seems he requested to leave final words before brain function is completely eroded by nanomachines. Section Chief Adrian Goodman?”

Adrian Goodman, in that terrible state, barely opened his mouth to speak. Or perhaps a voice was output from a computer graphic heap placed on another computer graphic heap.

“Ev’ry, everyone has th-that chance in this wo-world, no… I-I’ve done my… my duty…”

This used Adrian’s actual last recorded voice. This was somewhat less tragic for Arthur. The anchor activated his facial muscle control device and spoke. He sculpted a pained expression.

“I’m not a Belwether employee. I’m just someone who delivers news from this studio every day, but… I dare say this. You have done your duty, Section Chief Adrian Goodman. You’ve accomplished more than one person could possibly do!”

Two silhouettes were watching this scene on a large screen in the city. They were people who shouldn’t be there, so they remained as censored silhouettes, undetectable to visual sensors.

The silhouette on the left asked the one on the right. Their voices were completely censored, making it impossible to tell who was who. But their speech patterns remained.

“I’ve also ordered his promotion. Adrian has been fully reinstated, and now he’s become the person who protected Belwether Los Angeles branch from the coup threat. Are you satisfied?”

The silhouette on the right responded to the one on the left. The undetectable space rippled briefly as if nodding.

“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s too late, but yes, I’m satisfied.”

The right silhouette completed his revenge against Walter. He took revenge by giving a life back to the brother whom Walter had shown no compassion for and turned into a weapon for the coup.

That silhouette offered a handshake to the left silhouette. They appeared to be looking at each other as equals. The censored spaces touched and moved up and down.

“Just… thank you for everything. From the disciplinary committee to Adrian’s final matters.”

“I wouldn’t have helped if you hadn’t shown maximum efficiency. Get home safely. Don’t forget I said I’d contact you about our dinner appointment.”

“Of course. Take care. Goodbye then.”

The two silhouettes exchanged warm farewells and turned away. In the place where the right silhouette had been, there was only a worthless mercenary who had somehow obtained free contract rights.

That mercenary, who definitively had no merit in this incident, headed toward his mercenary company. It felt like it had been a very long time since he’d been there, but company records showed he had been diligently reporting to work.

The Night Watch mercenary company employees, who had gathered in the office waiting for the coup to pass, were waiting for the return of an ordinary employee who, according to records, had definitely been coming to work every day. It was strange.

In an age where reality could be censored and truth could be manufactured, the combined work of one tyrant of that terrible age and an anchor who had forgotten how to convey truth preserved the total amount of justice.

It was by no means the right thing to do. However, Arthur knew no other way to restore Adrian’s life. So he decided to call it the lesser evil.

A motorcycle cuts through the bustling city streets. As the city buzzes about the incident at Belwether and the hero of this high-speed age, Arthur headed toward Night Watch’s office.

It was the place he had chosen over headquarters. It was where Arthur wanted to live, and where he would now find out how to live. It was the foundation of life he had awkwardly built up over just one month.

Since he was entering his own company’s office, this time he didn’t hide his motorcycle and walked in through the front door rather than the back. Proudly, like a free person.

The automatic door opened, and he could see employees gathered in the reception room. Arthur said, feeling as if he was deceiving himself:

“Ah, um… I’m late, but since there was a coup at Belwether and a security lockdown until 9 PM, you won’t count it as an unexcused absence, right?”

President Yoon burst into laughter at those words, then stood up. Looking at Arthur with an expression of seeing someone who hadn’t changed at all when he’d expected something different, he said:

“Since today is a holiday anyway and there won’t be any official work coming in, there’s no reason to mark you absent. Still, I’d like to ask what you were doing to be this late.”

Arthur answered that question as if making a vow. It was a very short and light vow.

“Nothing. I really wasn’t doing anything… and since the security lockdown ended, I thought I should come to the company. By the way, when will official work start coming in again? I spent all my salary on the security deposit.”

The need to pay next month’s rent becomes one reason to enjoy working until next month. The fact that he didn’t do anything means he has the joy of not even having anything to be punished for.

“Probably from next week. After working for a week or two, it’ll be Golden Week again, and then the beginning of the year… Let’s finish this year well. Let’s have a drink today. Would you mind going to the convenience store, Arthur?”

With those words, President Yoon gently raised Eve. With instructions to go together… Eve’s cheeks clearly turned red again. It was now almost public knowledge.

Seeing those blood-flushed cheeks, Kay lay down on the reception room sofa and threw out a mischievous comment. Arthur was overwhelmed by the feeling of a very ordinary and missed scene returning before he could even feel discomfort.

“Ah… seeing Eve’s reaction, I guess I won’t get a drop of beer tonight! Just come back before tomorrow morning! I’m thirsty!”

But now he knew it was better to respond in kind. Instead of being overwhelmed by that feeling, Arthur allowed himself to flow with it and responded with a silly joke.

“Would someone please shut that kid up! If we leave him alone, he’ll keep talking until we get back!”

The night streets the two walked out into were gradually regaining their original colorfulness from being plastered with “CENSORED” messages. The air was still warm.

That’s just how December in Los Angeles is. Arthur, who had even taken off his jacket, glanced briefly at Eve and asked:

“I thought I’d get scolded for at least two hours.”

“What would I scold you for, you cunning fellow…?”

Eve reached out her finger and lightly tapped the tip of Arthur’s nose. In this world, there were more things one didn’t want to avoid reacting to than things one couldn’t avoid reacting to.

“You’ve made it so there’s nothing to praise or scold you for. But… well. According to the records, I worked with you yesterday too, but I’m glad to see your face, Arthur.”

“Me too. You have no idea how much I missed this ridiculous atmosphere… Wait a minute. Was there something I should be praised for?”

“No, nothing happened. You know that better than anyone.”

“Ah. Damn.”

“Watch your language, Arthur.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll watch my language.”

It didn’t take long for the two people exchanging silly words, trying somehow to package this situation as an ordinary one, to realize how ridiculous they looked and burst into laughter.

The only reward received by Night Watch’s freelance mercenary, who definitively made not even the slightest contribution to resolving the Belwether Los Angeles branch coup, was the fact that tomorrow was Night Watch’s holiday, Thursday.