#068
Yeon Tae-soo couldn’t take his eyes off the metal arms of the search dog as they moved busily.
His adoptive father’s functions had been significantly limited upon his discharge from military service. Nevertheless, he had to acknowledge that the functions were quite useful. No, could “useful” even adequately describe this?
The ability to access all hackable cameras nationwide. And the ability to view those screens in real-time.
Below his adoptive father floated thousands of semi-transparent screens. Each time the metal arms extending from his back moved busily, countless screens changed rapidly.
Of course, cameras in military zones or secure corporate facilities couldn’t be hacked. However, most civilian cameras with low security levels were hackable.
Upon discharge, his adoptive father had several other functions disabled as well. Despite this, he had said he was satisfied.
‘At least now I can live quietly. Without hearing the sounds of people dying.’
The android adoptive father had said that he sometimes had adverse reactions when hearing the sounds of people dying.
After hearing that confession, which was close to a confession of sins, Yeon Tae-soo had scoffed.
‘Is that so? But you didn’t have any adverse reactions when you heard my screams?’
His adoptive father showed no change in expression at his son’s mocking words. He had believed it was because, as an android manufactured solely for military use, his emotional expression functions were terrible.
That’s what he had believed back then.
“Do you still act disabled when soldiers come?”
When Yeon Tae-soo asked, his adoptive father, with his gaze fixed on the numerous screens reflected in the air, answered:
“It’s easier that way.”
Looking at the face that remained unchanged because it didn’t age, Yeon Tae-soo’s lips trembled slightly.
For over ten years, while that face remained the same, words he couldn’t ask still lingered on his lips.
“In the past…”
“Ah, found him.”
Yeon Tae-soo, who was just starting to speak, jumped up from his seat and rushed over at his adoptive father’s words.
The hundreds of small screens floating in the air turned off one by one, leaving only one. His adoptive father retracted all his metal arms and enlarged that screen with both hands.
Though wearing a hat and sunglasses, the side profile was captured, showing even his eyes. A face that anyone would describe as beautiful.
The face floating on the semi-transparent screen was definitely Yoo Seong-woo.
Yeon Tae-soo, who had unconsciously reached out toward the screen, hesitated. His fingertips carefully touched the diagonal line drawn across the face.
“…Why is he walking around injured? It’s upsetting.”
Looking down at those trembling fingertips, his adoptive father displayed coordinates on the screen.
“This footage is from 32 hours, 12 minutes, and 9 seconds ago. I’ll send it to your tablet.”
Yeon Tae-soo picked up his tablet to check. The captured image along with coordinate codes had been transmitted. Unable to take his eyes off the screen showing Yoo Seong-woo’s face enlarged, his lips moved slightly.
“…Thank you.”
His adoptive father turned away. Despite him turning away, the screen remained on. The screen was still on until Yeon Tae-soo forcibly tore his gaze away and turned to leave.
With those final words, Yeon Tae-soo left the mansion. His adoptive father didn’t say goodbye or anything else.
Starting the car, Yeon Tae-soo took out his tablet and examined the screen again. It’s Yoo Seong-woo. It’s definitely him. Not that Yoo-hyun look-alike or whoever.
After increasing the speed, he entered the coordinates into the navigation system. The car roared as it shot out, with the speed pushed to its limit.
Would his adoptive father think this reduced his debt?
Even so, it didn’t excuse what he had done to him. He had not the slightest intention of forgiving him.
Yeon Tae-soo suddenly touched his chest, then faced his reflection in the rearview mirror. A perfect lack of expression. Almost like an android.
His hand gripping the steering wheel tightened.
***
Somehow, he made it to the infirmary even after vomiting blood. The infirmary was usually empty. It was because the staff member in charge was so lazy. Considering someone else’s laziness fortunate, Yoo Seong-woo fumbled through the medicine cabinet with trembling hands.
‘Headache medicine, headache medicine… and… what else do I need?’
He found the headache medicine first. With trembling hands, he took out the medicine, swallowed it, and slumped to the floor. All he could do was hope the medicine would take effect quickly.
He tried to gather his blurry vision and continue his thoughts.
‘If I collapse… will I be kicked out?’
He couldn’t be kicked out. Would there be another workplace where he wouldn’t have to worry about being discovered as an android?
The workplace was safe. It was a place where he could be protected from those obsessed with extracting black moonstone. Although there were toxic substances, people were more dangerous.
But if he were taken to a hospital.
If his android identity were revealed then.
No, being taken to a hospital would be better. He had no idea how unconscious workers were handled.
If they just threw them out of Mount Jiri in that state, what would happen to him, stiff and rigid?
Should he escape from here too? But… where to?
Yoo Seong-woo stood up. He planned to find Popo first. Since he lacked medical data, maybe Popo could…
‘You’ve already tried that.’
Yes, having Popo search for solutions was something he had already tried. Unless the incomplete microchip was completely replaced, there was no way to regenerate this body.
But the microchip had been there since his brain and heart were created. It had now become almost one with his body, impossible to separate. It was like trying to separate just the right ventricle from a human heart.
The strength left his body that he had just managed to lift, and he slid back down. Bundled up like an object, Yoo Seong-woo curled up.
Suddenly, he wanted to give up everything.
Why was he struggling so hard? He would be discarded anyway. It was only a matter of time.
It wasn’t even death to begin with. It was just disposal. Since he had no soul, he couldn’t even have death.
And above all, what was hardest to understand was the face that kept appearing before his eyes.
‘That can’t be.’
He couldn’t possibly miss him. Isn’t that a human emotion? An unlearned emotion. Even if it were a learned emotion, since he wasn’t human, it was fake.
Amidst the confusion, he shook his head and took a breath. Fortunately, his condition seemed to have improved slightly.
It was then. Hearing movement near the infirmary door, he looked up.
Android Instructor Kwon was looking down at him.
“Registration number 95-a, I heard you requested to be excused today. Are you not feeling well?”
“Ah, yes. My body is a bit…”
Even though they were both androids, he couldn’t fully trust him. He quickly wiped the blood from his mouth.
Instructor Kwon stared at Yoo Seong-woo’s face for a moment before throwing something to him. Reflexively, his hand caught a packaged pill.
“It will have a temporary effect.”
Yoo Seong-woo’s eyes sharpened.
“I haven’t told you what’s wrong with me.”
“It’s medicine that temporarily alleviates android malfunctions.”
Medicine that alleviates malfunctions? If such medicine existed, he would have known about it.
“It’s used for military purposes.”
…That made some sense. He knew well how androids were handled in the military.
‘Side effects… there’s no point in asking.’
Even if there were side effects, it would be better than vomiting blood and shutting down right now. And while he couldn’t fully trust Instructor Kwon, there was no good reason to believe he would harm him.
He swallowed the rather large pill. The sensation of it going down his throat wasn’t particularly pleasant.
“During my active duty, I saw stopped android soldiers several times.”
Instructor Kwon spoke in his still rigid tone.
“Soldiers with unfinished missions often continued to operate beyond their scheduled shutdown time.”
Machines that operate even when they should be off. From a human perspective, that would be terrifying. But…
“Registration number 95-a, do you have a mission left?”
So Instructor Kwon was asking. Was he unable to close his eyes because he had a task left to do?
Had his own disposal time already passed? If not, how much time did he have left?
No, what mission did he have left?
Instructor Kwon didn’t ask further and disappeared, and Yoo Seong-woo curled up again. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth for a long time.
