“Huff…….”
Silently. But swiftly. And carefully controlling the strength so as not to make any suspicious sparks.
If what we did before was akin to the delicate work of uncovering and securing artifacts buried in a field, then what we’re doing now is turning over a sandbox called a server with limited storage space and shaking everything out of it.
What? If there’s any damage to the data during this rough handling and we don’t get our bonus, why are you doing this?
…We’ve agreed to call that an ‘Acceptable Loss.’ Yes.
We will not entertain any kind of rebuttal in any form.
Lately, I’ve been aware that taking comfort in our good sleep and the virtually unlimited supply of top-quality meals has slightly dulled my sense of tension, but I didn’t want to regain my alertness in such a harsh way.
Even at the cost of not receiving compensation, all the data must be thoroughly reviewed and any problematic materials destroyed.
And this involves going through all the data from an entire megascale secret research facility? …I’m really dying from overwork and abuse of my abilities.
“Umm… Darling? When you said that we’ve already completed the servers, and now you’re going to re-inspect all of them—was that serious? …Yeah, of course we’ll do it. Great job!!”
“…….”
Marina, after receiving my burning gaze, which might as well have surpassed the heat of a substantial bonfire, immediately distracted herself and fled to a corner.
There’s no way I’d be happily doing more work after everything I’ve already done. However, if I rely on the vague assumption that a quick scan was sufficient and some minor metadata gets discovered later by the exceptionally talented engineers of MegaCorp, then… thinking of that scenario alone is horrifying.
– …Asha, have you noticed yourself frequently looking down at your body and touching it? If you’re experiencing a decline in sleep quality or any discomfort, you should immediately request improvements from the client.
“Hmm… I think this might be purely psychological, isn’t it?”
Though I’m trying to focus, Zero caught some awkwardness in the occasional lapses of my concentration and the minor hand movements.
Something like, ‘The body affects the mind just as the mind affects the body,’ perhaps.
Sure, Zero might have just been offering health advice, but hearing it just added to my distress and stirred up even more complicated thoughts.
I hold up my five outstretched fingers to block the light from the ceiling.
Even repeated actions like curling and uncurling my fingers don’t give me any strange sensations.
There have been times I’ve been grazed by bullets or caught in an explosion, but I had no recollection of my body being torn apart in such a way that would cause phantom pain—especially since I only found out about it recently by watching a video.
…And since I’ve confirmed I am indeed myself, there’s no need to get sentimental about it.
However, realizing that my identity had been subtly mixed up and learning that Anastasia, who I’d been playing until just moments ago, somehow connected to me, made me think—Could this be some kind of possession?
I thought my body was just the incredible product of a strange experiment, something accidental. But if it was rebuilt according to my detailed customization designs, then why was I treated as some sort of repository of game information and strategy knowledge, with my brain just opened and rummaged through?
“Ughhh!!!”
It’s crap. Really, crap…
Grinding my teeth together, I tore apart the security logbook I happened to be holding out of sheer irritation.
Was it because it contained information about me? I don’t know, damn it! Even if there’s some hidden information connected to me that I don’t remember, what do I care?! Just blow it up!! Why was I assigned such a task as this?!
Suspicion and paranoia have truly taken hold of me.
Even though nothing around me is changing, everything feels different now that I’ve uncovered these unsettling truths. Even the simplest things now make me anxious.
Though it’s not gory enough to be cruel and not suspenseful enough to be a thriller, why do I have to experience these delayed traumatic effects now, when all the secrets behind the scenes have already been revealed?
“…That’s it! Next!”
– Alright, marking the B-row, server rack 4 as completed.
– Zero then promptly moved to the next hardware item, tapping my back as they worked.
Honestly, while it’s uncomfortable to work this way, it’s not because I treat Zero this way without any gratitude.
Rather, amidst the repayment of an almost impossible debt that saved my life, I feel like I’ve uncovered another huge IOU, one that’s accumulated with astronomical interest. I have no idea how to thank them, so I hope you understand.
Hearing that you owe someone your life sounds great until it’s your own burden—it’s extremely stressful.
But how am I supposed to repay someone who has saved my life? …Is the answer only by obtaining one of those amazing custom bodies?
My plan to confiscate the pleasures of eating from this thoroughly logical robot might have been doomed from the start.
“Uh… Anastasia-nee? Good morning… Ah, never mind…”
“…Okay.”
This time, Ken greeted me but paused mid-sentence, reading the mood and quickly retreating to his spot.
Though I am aware I’m unintentionally lashing out, it becomes hard to respond when I know that I’m not merely possessed or astral projecting but physically reincarnated.
Come on, I didn’t ask for a short-lived second life in a strange world filled with countless coincidences that have given me rare kindness and care, resulting in a second opportunity—why complain about it?
The major premise is the problem.
The fact that a foolish gamer who misused the interdimensional interference device got transported physically across dimensions means… even if I somehow overcame all the trials, cleverly escaped, and returned home safely, I’ll still be stuck in this body.
This means, separate from worrying about an uncertain future, I now have to accept this changed gender and flesh as my own being and deal with it forever, right?
“…….”
I reflect on my past experiences.
That one cabbage of a guy who jumped into declaring his love, and our so-called heroine who showed interest and even privately suggested a physical relationship without prior seduction.
Oh… Should I be grateful this destructive cyberpunk world’s ethical views on love and relationships allow for such things with a casual nod?
Or should I be startled by the potential that, if managed poorly, any relationship could evolve into a sticky, complicated one, regardless of gender?
“Hey, was that… your… preference thing we talked about before…?”
– …? Of course. It wasn’t any ordinary genital detachment procedure or hormone treatment, let alone brainwave readjustment. It was a massive clinical experiment involving redesigning the body from scratch and even modifying the base-pair sequences. They even used experimental techniques by integrating electric eel factors to ensure your self-identity remained intact.
“No, no, no…!”
I covered my ears, shaking my head vigorously to indicate that I had no need for further explanations.
I sense that there was a reason why Zero has been curious about my sexual orientation.
They probably found it strange that someone subjected to such an extreme experiment and surgery would behave so casually like a regular person afterward.
– Have confidence. All the researchers who saw Anastasia’s design and blueprint were awestruck. It was so impressive that the doctor even sat in the central lab filled with test tubes, setting up additional security cameras to identify and exclude any staff indulging in inappropriate personal desires…
Clang!!
At last, Zero let slip details that didn’t need mentioning and quickly cut off their redundant power supply through their voice module after receiving a slap.
Ah… So, they installed numerous surveillance cameras, did they? We’ll have to find and delete everything, damn it!
Also, if we really want to ensure that no additional forensics can be done after we’re done, we’ll have to discreetly ask Ken for his help. It’s not like we can throw Enema’s assets from a high-rise building or scrub them with saltwater.
Thus, while bickering a bit, we continued diligently working as employed staff for several hours.
This isn’t a sandbox but a construction site, expansive enough to rival a desert. We successfully uncovered something meaningful.
“…Hmm, what’s this rough touch?”
An e-book protected with multiple layers to prevent damage and restrict access. Could this be another part of the doctor’s manuscript, wherever it’s been cut?
Anyway, since no one but me and Zero, who’s more than just a witness, has any idea of the full story, destroying this should be fine. Still, I’ll glance through it just in case.
“Hey…?”
Though the virtual text was written in proper format, it was filled with typos indicating urgency.
[You useless bastards! The greatest fools ever born in the world!]
[That child is not some petty weapon but the beacon of hope for humanity! How blind can you be with the title of ‘biological weapon’?!!]
Besides these outbursts, it also featured a lot of obscure proper nouns and technical terms that were scribbled all over. The key date of this important memo: July 15, 2195, the day of the explosion. And one name stood out clearly.
[Black Dragon?? Yeah, it’s clearly not a proper deal with that cheap Chink!!]
– Apparently, the doctor injected combat protocols into my DB along with my combat suit. It seems they tried to win asylum by pulling other MegaCorps into the situation. No wonder the extreme measure of wiping out both the personnel and servers—deploying the Mobile Strike Team—seemed unusual despite the detected betrayal within the research facility.
– ‘Well… I’m the one responsible for dealing the final blow to the server, right?’
While muttering, I glanced down and remembered the various debts I owed to this prototype combat suit, the automatic pistol, and the fact that this equipment came directly from Dr. Makarovitch.
Damn, this kind of genius scientist really has a knack for causing headaches, doesn’t he?
When considering the power dynamics between companies, involving them could indeed affect the story and quests.
Still, my already complex mind opted to drop worrying about it. I just nodded along and accepted the plausible hypotheses.
But I shouldn’t ignore even the quiet words of the tracker.
“Engineers. I apologize for interrupting your busy schedule, but I have a message that your secretary and… their direct superior will soon arrive. …Please bear in mind that even mentioning personal schedules constitutes a breach of confidentiality, so I earnestly request everyone’s discretion.”
“Ah, it must be the work inspection we mentioned earlier…”
“…Breach of confidentiality? High-level officers? Who?”
This quiet visitor finished the reminder directed mainly toward Marina and, without waiting for a response, returned to their gatekeeping duties.
Ah, right.
What’s the point of sitting around worrying about who’s coming when an important patron is about to make an appearance? Let’s leave a good impression and get back to work.
……
This half-hearted mindset quickly evaporated when the party on the other side of the softly opened barrier calmly entered.
The floor vibrated lightly, and the air became heavy.
A character requiring a significant military escort just to visit a single facility could easily be someone at the level of Director of Strategic Planning, like Aaron. Yet, the question lingered: what mega figures among Enema could have direct interest in something like this? That thought didn’t last long.
The secretary Kakubari appeared first. The man who had been commanding the tracker with a simple chin flick was now deferentially treating someone.
Not only did this person step forward to ensure the comfort of the person they were serving, but their elegant gesture indicated the visitor’s presence without making unnecessary movements.
When the male visitor finally came into view, I couldn’t help but stare, slack-jawed. Just a second, why is this overbearing mama’s boy here? And why? No…
Our confused gazes converged. I, from encountering a major character who shouldn’t be here, and he, with an expression akin to seeing a ghost, even if I have no idea why it’s me.
Moreover, even if silence is golden, shouldn’t breaking it have some value? Was there really any need to drop such an absurd bomb in front of so many witnesses?
“… Mother…?”
‘What?’
A sudden chill ran through me. The collective attention momentarily shifted to me before quickly retreating, even among the elite, trained forces—including the tracker—who flinched and then quickly looked away.
What in the world is this absurd nonsense, Enema’s rabid watchdog!!
