Chapter 75

– I am the dedicated Carebot assigned to protect and assist Ahsa. Why do you insist on letting your resources go to waste?

“Because! You should just guard the house properly like a proper Carebot. Is it really something you need to hate so strongly? It’s because I know that if you stay here in the situation room with me, you’ll keep complaining about how you should be out in the field instead.”

Humans are truly fickle. If an armed conflict turns against us, the mercenaries on our team will first look for help from the robot who put on the most dazzling performance.

Rather than asking for support without any authority or qualifications and then earning resentment, it’d be better to just go alone and quietly handle white-collar tasks and come back.

“This is not based on my personal preferences.”

“Pfft… Do I not know you? You’re probably just hanging around me so that if anything happens, you’ll jump in front of me to do something heroic.”

“…Have I ever done such a thing before?”

“Hmph, you!”

While ostentatiously refusing with disdain, the moment the point was pressed, the Tin Can put on an intellectual pretense. I glared at him steadily.

And yet, despite claiming it wasn’t personal, it was obvious he was lying. I couldn’t tell—was he just learning the worst traits of humans first, or should I consider this as this obstinate kid’s personality?

Who did you inherit this stubbornness from, and why are you so skilled at improvisation?

“By the way, Tin Can, are you one of the A.I.s personally created by Valentine? You’re quite… uh…”

“Quietly… quite what?”

“Never mind, I was just thinking you’re capable enough for this.”

A teacher from the sidelines cast a lukewarm gaze before awkwardly concluding the conversation. It was clear they had something else they wanted to say, but I was in no position to pursue it, so I let it pass.

“Anyway, as soon as my work is done, I’ll come back and book train tickets, so you wait quietly at home till then… You know much better than I do that this ten-million-credit tactical suit is dangerous when exposed to serious firepower.”

“…Understood. I’ll wait ‘at home’ as instructed.”

Even if the response seemed reluctant, it counted as consent. Still, the tone was twisted like a stubborn child’s, which raised some worries. However, at least the promise to wait didn’t sound false.

Fortunately, it seemed he had reluctantly accepted.

Sure, Tin Can’s pride might be slightly hurt, but can it be helped? That’s not his fault but rather the fault of his components with unclear output.

“That’s fine. Ah, teacher? Zeny? We might not see each other for a while, so let me say goodbye in advance. Thank you for everything. But… if my blood is really enough, could you manage with just a drop? The business has been tough for you because of us.”

Before stepping out of the shop, I hurriedly expressed my small gratitude, knowing it might be a while before we meet again.

Actually, if the goal was just to secure travel expenses, I could’ve called Mr. Schneider without a second thought.

However, feeling apologetic for the trouble I’ve caused, I restarted my mercenary work to somehow compensate for your shop’s losses.

Since it was sufficient to give just a little blood for personal research purposes, I finished it quickly last night. …I should’ve left earlier if I had known this would happen.

“…It’s actually you who has received much more. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful not to leak anything while processing your sample and will then discard it.”

Leak…? Discard? My foot hesitated as I stepped out on the street with unsettling words.

Blood contains an immense reservoir of information beyond imagination. However, it’s also something incredibly difficult to keep secrets with, so I didn’t think Enema Corporation would have planted overt clues.

Otherwise, other companies would have already stripped down and mass-produced blood from pursuit markers. It’s probably nothing but baseless worries.

…Probably.

Thus, I gave a slight nod to the teacher reclining in the chair with a wave and to the demurely standing Zeny, and cast a glare warning Tin Can, who looked at me obliquely as if to ask, “Really going to do this?”

And with that, I stepped out onto the now dazzling morning commute after a sleepless night.

‘Year-end specials with your family! And even better when used together — the ultra-precise micro-vibration whole-body massager, HC-F5000! Christmas special discounts ongoing now!’

‘Exclusive Christmas Day deal! Monthly preservation food delivery service now available, guaranteed to last up to 150 years — perfect for bunker storage if you grow tired of eating it!’

‘Limited-time offer! Receive a 1.7% discount on anti-aging procedures, sponsored by Enema Corporation. Your long and healthy life, always supported by Enema.’

‘Lonely night? Hot flesh? Needed. You are. A sexroid.’

“WHAT IS THAT LAST ONE?!”

The streets weren’t entirely filled with just the festive holiday atmosphere.

Limitations, discounts, specials — all sorts of ads to stimulate the primal instincts of consumers. The familiar carols that simultaneously scratch at cherished memories. And those floating cross symbols, remnants of a religion whose doctrines have nearly vanished, yet remain strong as Christmas icons.

Most shops seemed ambiguous about preparing holiday-specific decorations, opting instead to display red ribbons, small bells, circular wreaths, and candy canes on their display panels.

Despite this, with those icons scattered about in various spots, it contributed to a festive ambiance. The harmony born of chaos, if that makes any sense to you.

Among these, the most eye-catching was undoubtedly the super-large Christmas tree installed in the upper square by Paradise.

Instead of pinecones or bulbs, monitors were haphazardly stuck everywhere. Various promotional videos and images played in loops, making it essentially a massive advertisement board.

Even though electronic products entirely surrounded the artificial greenery to the point where you could barely see the color, perched prominently at the top was a large, bright yellow star ornament.

Yet, despite the bizarre creation, the symbolism resonated with the pedestrians, whose faces bloomed with smiles.

From the very start, with the celebration encompassing all sectors in a grand memorial parade, it was impossible to entirely view Harvest Planet as bad. Despite the stark wealth disparity, with factories producing all sorts of daily necessities nearby, it was clear people managed to get by.

As such, modest job opportunities were created… and looking at the community in the Yellow Sector, it seemed the citizens loosened their purses significantly during this period.

…Neo Haven?

There, they’re busy with gang wars at Christmas, concept villains, or special events masquerading as robberies… Still, thanks to the McQueen family’s house, I can avoid the slums for a while.

“Um… Mr. Broker? Why are you crouching so pitifully in the corridor like this…?”

“Ah… You’ll understand after you see inside.”

KUNK KUNK!! CREEEEEK…

“You came awfully fast. Don’t tell me you forgot that hackers’ pay is distributed according to results?”

“Hm… Remember well. Thanks to which I managed to get a full night’s rest?”

At the top of a Paradise-owned skyscraper in the upper district. Upon banging on the tightly closed rooftop door, his mercenary friend who had gone through a collision-style plastic surgery on Tin Can peeked out.

Though his words were teasing, there was not a trace of animosity or resentment.

…Why?

For the simple fact that the scar left on his face was unexpectedly cool, making him very satisfied. In fact, he even received a thank-you note along with repair costs for the glove.

…The mercenary industry truly is filled with crazy people.

“Oof?!?”

“Woohaha…!! Sorry, but all the good honey spots have already been picked up by those who woke up early!”

With a screech, splitting tinnitus accompanied it.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, I was met with an icy wind at tremendous speeds descending from high altitudes.

In a world where hearing functions seemed to have been severed, he was shouting frantically to communicate.

Ah, truly, generous and magnificent companies! They’ve set up the hackers’ and engineers’ situation room on the rooftop for the best views.

The problem? Instead of a stunning penthouse-like setting, they simply placed communication equipment, computers, chairs, and desks in the open air, boldly calling it a “situation room.”

Due to the potential for direct airstrikes from Five Eyes, they consider it thoughtful to monitor the parade while high up, performing network inspections.

Ah, I really wish for remote work.

“How about it! The best seat with stunning views and incredible winds is all yours—want a tour!!”

“…”

Surveying my surroundings silently.

I saw the other mercenaries who were brimming with fury and hatred for this ridiculous working environment, directing all their rage against Five Eyes.

Coughing sounds of an indeterminate number of people already echoed in the air, the makeshift wind screens (Win Screen) were swaying precariously, and one’s blanket, caught in the gale, pitifully flew off to the distant sky.

“Here! Hand over the temp account for monitoring or something! I’ll figure out the rest on my own!”

Catching the memory card shoved through trembling ripples of my jacket, I promptly inserted it into a vacant computer at its edge.

Reading the code to activate the temporary network administrator access limited to specific devices for a certain period.

Authentication system… activation status… With this configuration, instead of directly tampering with the data, it might be better to deceive it somehow.

“Hmph…”

I applied a somewhat embarrassing boost of spirit and changed the address value assigned to my cheap terminal to match the one in the situation room computer. Redirecting the tangled mess of signals coursing through the circuits to fix their endpoint on my cyberware and terminal while maintaining the form.

Attempting to cheat while under the surveillance of corporate engineers who are likely watching here to ensure that mercenaries do their jobs was giving me quite a headache.

But either because skill-like expertise increases with repetition… or because the body adapts… it felt like I was getting more proficient.

Anyway, this way I can work remotely even if I leave that wretched computer.

Click!

I removed the memory card containing the replaced electrical signal and inserted it into my terminal.

Ignoring my mercenary friend who was dumbfounded staring at the situation room computer that didn’t turn off after the withdrawal of the key, I silently escaped the hellish rooftop and plopped down next to Mr. Broker.

“By the rules, everyone except those on field duty must stay in the respective situation rooms, but…”

His muttering wasn’t likely genuine either.

Why come to such a preposterous place, where neither authority nor pretense matters anymore?

“So, should we both mindlessly freeze out here and catch pneumonia? Since ‘everyone’ includes the broker as well.”

“…”

His contemplation was short, but the remaining working hours seemed excessively long.

“Alright, how about I get you something to drink? They say the Christmas limited White Cocoa is really selling well.”