Chapter 271

A large amount of humiliation, with a hint of anger as the basic foundation.

After appropriate shouting and a good deal of laughter, the studio finally regained its peace only after the last resort of forceful suppression through droids was almost called upon.

…At least, that’s what I want to believe. Other people must have found it amusing since they were quietly observing from the start. Most unkind and cruel humans, I suppose.

If someone had just asked, “What are you doing?” I could have calmly and graciously replied, “Ah, I’m sorry. The artificial magnetic field is really fascinating, and I was just examining the principles~”

Instead, I ended up shouting in a panic as if defending myself…!

“Oh~ it’s totally fine! Originally, the tuning work is much more advantageous for recording and setting if you actively move in various ways!”

“Aha… then why couldn’t you face me properly earlier?”

“…Cough, cough!”

Whether he was simply pushed out as a representative or volunteered to attempt model mental care himself, Douglas, who was trying to laugh it off, immediately turned his head at my lingering questioning.

His shoulders were shaking, perhaps because someone was stifling laughter behind him… Just because they were trying to keep quiet doesn’t mean everything is okay, right? It’s happening right in front of me, how could I not see it?

While it is natural for a working person to pretend not to notice in a situation where they absolutely can’t avoid seeing, this felt too contrived and felt like being mocked.

“No, I’m not just saying this; the tuning itself was perfectly done. Uh… Daniel? Danny, please, don’t cowardly hide in the back and come up here to tell Ms. Anastasia the status! Don’t leave me to bear all the blame for life!”

“Yes… I’m coming right now…”

Among the staff who were all focused on their own tasks, one person was called out specifically.

Unlike the other broadcast station employees who were relatively cleaned up due to having to meet external guests, the man, referred to as the chief, seemed to be a technical engineer who had been working hard in this holographic studio after not even fixing his messy outfit as he scratched his head while approaching.

“Anna… Ana…? …What is this nonsense? ‘Ms. Anastasia.’ You idiot! Anyway, we are pleased to have you in our studio. Yes.”

“Um… I look forward to working with you?”

He was clearly lacking in one of two supplies, either oxygen or sugar to the brain, struggling to remember the name that just passed by but still managed an adequate greeting.

For a filming studio that fundamentally has to engage in interpersonal interactions, he was surprisingly cool to the point of being empty in dealing with people.

“First, the main purpose of the magnetic field is to visualize gravitational and related physical actions. Uh… Doug… MacArthur? In any case, as the director mentioned, a lot of data has been collected, and I will show it to you in an easy-to-understand manner, so please step back from the edge of the field… Yes, good.”

Ignoring Mr. Dougie, who became MacArthur and sighed, “Ah, that idiot,” I stepped aside as requested. He demonstrated the function by rewinding the whole machine to move.

*Bzzz-woo, zap…*

I didn’t need to ponder what “visualization of gravity” meant at all. The answer was right in front of my eyes.

Like someone light was joyfully bouncing above, the taut net suddenly shook and dipped down.

Following the boot-shaped impressions in the fabric, the surrounding boundary sank down and then shot up again, and the force applied at each footstep created ripples that vibrated the whole thing.

In reality, it was just reproducing what I had moved.

The elegant curves drawn by physical forces appeared in succession, colliding with one another… and then disappearing as if extinguished, making me realize how advanced the concept of “translating the behavior of a subject into data” was, going beyond merely recording events in writing.

“…Once the patterns, including weight and height, have been sufficiently learned, the next step is to take samples. Ms. Model? Could you please stand back in the center of the field?”

“Um, I’m not sure how precisely I need to position myself. Can I just stand here?”

“That’s sufficient. Please stand comfortably, slightly parting your legs, arms, and fingers… You may feel a bit uncomfortable, but during the shoot, you will need to repeatedly blink your eyes.”

“Yes… what??”

The unexplained expression caused my head to tilt slightly as I instinctively tried to comply.

Not continuously keeping my eyes open or closed but blinking? What a bizarre requirement that is.

However, not wanting to make a mistake in the middle, my efforts to inquire further were cut short.

Regardless of the mysterious tail-end of his statements, I could not forcibly stop the machine that had started operating with a loud sound, thinking I misheard something.

– Equipment output increase confirmed, this… utilizes a scanning process entirely different from the military models I’m equipped with. Fascinating. –

‘…It’s just a regular scanning beam, right? Not some death laser show!?’

Ziiiiing!

With a loud noise, energy supplied to the pillars that seemed to serve no purpose other than reflecting surfaces created a wall made of some sort of light by spinning like a prism.

At a glance, it looked too much like a plasma barrier that completely destroys the molecular structure of touched materials, making it hard to stay calm.

Honestly, if I hadn’t already known I was in a broadcast station and that this was filming equipment, I would have thought it was an instant-kill beam and would have dodged it!

“Excuse me! Is it really okay to just stand in this light without any health issues…?”

“…? Ah, since your skin is quite light, you can just stop by the canteen later and let them know you’re from the studio, and you can pick up a bottle of skin cancer treatment. We stocked up on it in advance. It’s pretty strong stuff.”

What the hell, this is really not okay at all! It’s a disease that humanity has conquered, and they aren’t saying to be careful not to get it, but rather they are here saying it’s fine to risk that much danger casually!

Upon hearing the word skin cancer, I hurriedly prevented Zero, who was about to tear through all defenses, with my eyes and took a deep breath, calmly… accepting the energy waves tightening around me from all sides.

It would be fair to say I calmly endured it in a grown-up manner.

A rise in the risk of diseases including cancer! It’s usually only things like alcohol, cigarettes, or fried foods that people can nonchalantly enjoy despite warnings like that.

‘Ugh… this feels a bit ticklish!’

While consciously feeling the touch of energy density directly intertwining with my skin, I wriggled my fingers, and my eyes, overwhelmed by the amount of light, kept blinking steadily.

There was little tangible form and no particular smell, generally rendering it impossible to interfere, so it would typically go unnoticed.

However, this time, it was as if the particles of light were clearly asserting their own mass, densely attaching themselves not just to every hair but also meticulously to the tips of my eyebrows.

The prism pillars turned, grazing past each other.

As the source of the wavelengths retreated, this mass of light also needed to be receded, but it oddly lingered around me like it had spun a thin film.

[ Original model recognition complete. Mirror Image Hologram construction initiated. Data cell rebuilding in progress. ]

“You can come out of there now. Please be slow, so the image doesn’t get disrupted!”

…Putting aside the sudden suspicious rise in the chief’s tension.

Isn’t it a bit exaggerated to say to get out of thin air? But as he said, there was surprisingly some peculiar resistance, and I cautiously drew back as if I were safely placing a stretched rubber band back, escaping this sticky trap, and hopped back down next to Zero.

When I turned back, what remained in the machine’s magnetic field was what I had shed like a type of skin….

“A shell?”

The previously scattered particle arrangement began to regain its place and fill the gaps, taking on a proper shape.

That which successfully mimicked the color and texture differences to match the brightness could easily be referred to as an ASCII art rendition of light.

No, right? Comparing the result to ASCII art isn’t a compliment at all against such expensive equipment and specialized personnel! But, at a glance, it sure was quite similar.

However, just like the disappointment at something that is still only a rough sketch, with every passing second, the resolution of the ASCII art shell gradually… dramatically soared.

Delicately. More vividly. Even observed with clear perception, it approached the level of being mistaken for my own self.

The original is right here, so one might argue there’s nothing difficult about copying it, but mimicking the rise and fall of a chest from breathing, or the awkward movement of hands, not to mention even repeating the habit of occasionally tapping the ground with the tip of a shoe, I thought that crossed into the domain of creation rather than mere imitation.

So, am I experiencing the inviolable truth that expensive machines are worth their price, both in the waiting room and here?

But if Zero buys everything he wants, the growth of that child will surpass that of a house before this year is over. Hmm.

“Well then, additionally, if we just add all the RGB color values recognized… hehehe.”

“…What?”

For just a moment, the astonishment faded away as I turned my head at the suddenly wicked laugh from beside me.

There was the chief, pounding away at the control panel and instruments with a somewhat sinister expression, modifying my model pixel by pixel…

No, I thought that the system message said the construction process was underway, so I thought for sure it would just be that, but was the computer focused only on rendering while you were adjusting everything in detail?

Mastering one’s area of expertise is a deeply noble and splendid thing, but isn’t this a little obsession with some trivial matters, almost perverse?

Is the saying “God is in the detail” still secretly thriving?

In any case, after every particle was projected flawlessly and finally manifested in shape, when I added the ‘weight’ I had cloned earlier, even a texture only expressible on artificial magnetic and gravitational fields was imparted, my perfect clone was born there.

Spinning lightly, that little footwork continued.

As if proving the existence of my completed self, with the hem of my jacket swaying, I lightly turned around on the spot and bowed to the surrounding staff, who applauded the well-produced outcome.

Amidst that, one over-immersed member jumped up from their previous working spot, exclaiming in exultation…

“Awesome—! A-183-chan!! It’s turned out unbelievably well! Truly a masterpiece!! As long as the voice is also deep-learned and we insert it to make it sing…!”

“Th-that… I’m really sorry. Chief Danny, he has a penchant for virtual addiction, that is, a somewhat unusual obsession with the virtual. As you can see, his skills are indeed solid. Yes. Oh, A-183 means it’s the 183rd model made of celebrities with the surname A, so please understand it as his belief not to confuse reality and virtual data.”

“I see….”

*Pervert.* There’s a serious pervert here.

Hearing Dougie desperately pleading for a retort as if he predicted such a situation made it clear in my mind just one thing.

Even if I’m forced to permit its use for advertising, I might need to make sure that any virtual data or records don’t remain in storage or are misused.

I might not be the one to say this as a virus remover, but I didn’t think these people would neatly dispose of it as soon as the advertising ended.

Especially if a mad human like that was the one in charge!

At least regarding A-183 or whatever, I think it’s too much to try and make a character looking exactly like me dance in front of me under the guise of a rendering inspection.

We haven’t even signed the contract yet! Can you please be reasonable before I flip everything over and run away? …Yes, thank you for your calming response.

On one side, the one who couldn’t hold on any longer nervously shouted, trusting that this was not for private use.

Meanwhile, in the shadows from people’s line of sight, Zero was busy coaxing behind the scenes, connected to the studio computer.

The modeling process for a 3D advertisement had initially finished, but the following traffic control made the studio even more chaotic.

Director Morgan, who had been quietly observing while making some busy phone calls in a corner until now, intervened and sorted out all situations with one swift blow.

“Ah, everyone, please, calm down! Miss Anastasia can take a brief rest… It seems the male model for the concept art has arrived, so while he’s also a VIP, please watch your words and continue the shoot. I’ll just greet him when he arrives and take a look.”

Oh? This was a new piece of news.

Unlike the broadcast staff, who casually shrugged off the occurrence of unscheduled tasks, I was particularly flustered since it was neither a familiar method nor an issue I had heard about at all.

Did they really need a male model for a beauty advertisement? This was probably a bit of an old-fashioned way of thinking.

Moreover, given that it was related to plastic surgery rather than cosmetics, it would not be suspicious to have another model after all.

“While it might be that a bisexual or gender-free character could be promoted as a single model for stronger image power… the image of Ms. Anastasia seems a bit too soft at first glance to appeal to both sides.”

“Originally, I was leaning towards a single model, but the director advised that having a male model to pair up would be much more compositionally advantageous. Moreover, he even received direct contact regarding this?”

“……Did Director Morgan personally get involved in the casting?”

Who invented the sad phrase “More mountains, more mountains”?

The director, personally heading out to greet the other model as per the word that they had arrived at the studio, whispered reassuringly to Dougie, seeing my furrowed brow and assuring him of the source of recruitment.

The fact that it was the grand decision of the illustrious Director Morgan of the Memorial Times made me feel the opposite of reassured, in fact, it felt suspiciously intense.

Very intense. Because… while he borrowed an employee’s name in the process, wasn’t he the first to get in touch with me?

If so, it practically meant that it was the director who orchestrated the existence of this event.

Given his nature of regularly reaching out to find material, it wouldn’t be strange for anyone to appear, nor would it be bizarre if any major character popped out.

…But, you know.

Having suffered from Morgan’s inscrutable wordplay until now, I somehow felt I already knew who ‘came out to this advertising shoot’.

So, in other words, the entrance that had been tightly closed because filming was currently ongoing now swung wide open.

What was pouring in was a swarm of enema trackers adorned with black, shiny combat armor, sporting the Rod of Asclepius logo in black and white.

I was not shocked by it any more than others might have been.

….

…Ha.

I should have sensed it immediately and asked deeper questions.

This bastard sold me out for an interesting scoop, didn’t he…!!