49
Goldfish Poop
Thinking about it again, everything was strange.
We were suddenly “processed”. That means we weren’t originally scheduled to be processed. The reason didn’t seem very clear either. If there was a clear reason to process us, I would have been processed too, regardless of what conditions I put forward.
No, why was I excluded from the processing list in the first place? Can that be so easily excluded?
Everything proceeded so smoothly, but looking at each part separately, it was all strange. Why did Lee only extract me? When Lee excluded me from the “processing”, was it his own decision? Was Team 9’s processing Otto Layer’s independent decision? That can’t be. Then does that mean the director’s approval came down? If so, did Lee remove me from what the director had approved? Was he prepared to be at odds with the director? But now everything is so amicable?
Let me think again.
Lee removed me from processing. And he implanted a GPS in my body. He was plotting something and used me. My team was discarded, and I had value to be used…
Ah, shit. I don’t really know. I really don’t know. Why is everything so complicated?
I tried to think even as Sebastian finished everything, wrapped up my aftermath, washed me, and dressed me. But my brain was insufficient to organize all of this. Even after I was fully dressed, my mind was in chaos and nothing was sorted out. Then Sebastian rubbed between my eyebrows.
“Stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles.”
“I don’t care.”
“It’s mine so I care.”
I didn’t make the mistake of saying something like “I’m my own” and ruining the mood. But perhaps such words were written on my face, because Sebastian pushed the spot between my eyebrows that he had been rubbing.
“I see it the most. That means it’s captured in my eyes the most, which means I own it the most. I’m saying I have the highest share in your face.”
He’s talking nonsense again. I was about to tell him not to say such ridiculous things, but I hesitated. Sebastian is indeed the person who sees my face the most. And he’s currently the person I trust the most. And Sebastian isn’t entangled in this mess of a situation I’m in. Wouldn’t he be able to look at it from a much more objective perspective than me?
The problem is that this is all confidential.
…But I’ve never said it was confidential.
Right, it’s confidential but not confidential. Because the processing of Team 9 would have been in the form of an operation, of course. But I don’t know the nature of that operation. I don’t know its nature or existence. You have to know something for it to be confidential. I should have been aware of the operation, seen the security level, and received a notification. Confidential? What security level is it? Have they ever told me? What’s the name of that operation in the first place?
In other words, I don’t know about that confidential information, so I don’t know it’s confidential, and therefore…
“I want to consult you about something.”
This doesn’t deviate from my professional ethics at all.
Of course, I know it’s wordplay, but that’s how it is.
At my words, Sebastian looked down at me and nodded.
“Buy me dinner.”
…I wonder if I can afford to feed him with my abilities.
I’m not sure if I’m going bankrupt while trying to plan for the future.
Contrary to my worries, Sebastian said he wanted to go to my favorite restaurant. I said it’s not the kind of place someone like you would go to, but he asked with a sulky expression, “What kind of person am I?” which left me at a loss for words. As I kept my mouth shut and just rolled my eyes, he chuckled.
“Make a reservation.”
“That place doesn’t take reservations.”
It’s just a neighborhood pub…
They might take reservations, but probably the only people who make reservations among those who go there are group customers. …If there are any group customers, that is.
Ah, but is it okay to take him there? I was a bit worried. It’s a neighborhood pub, but not in the neighborhood where our house is, it was on Munben Street. So it’s the pub in front of the headquarters, and probably 70% of the customers who keep that place running are people from our company. Taking Sebastian to a pub frequented by Security Bureau people feels a bit against professional ethics…
But suddenly, someone in my heart, whether devil or angel I’m not sure, but some entity whispered:
Is it in line with professional ethics to “process” people like this instead of firing them? What’s the use of keeping professional ethics alone?
That’s right! This is all gaslighting. The professional ethics training we received every two years was actually professional ethics-lighting! Why am I the only one keeping it?! Ethics, you say? Then everyone should keep them!
I decided to introduce Sebastian to my favorite pub. And there, I can afford it even if Sebastian eats quite a lot.
…Or so I thought.
Right, I had forgotten. If Sebastian is a sparkling goldfish, he has goldfish poop.
Three dishes were on our table. Sebastian was sipping the owner’s homemade beer and tasting the dishes little by little. He seemed to be a light eater originally, as I had never seen him eat much of anything. Maybe that’s why half of the food he picked up was going into my mouth.
And the next table. The table where four guards including Kouri were eating was in the middle of a feast.
“This is really delicious.”
“Wow, what’s in this?”
Two people marveling at the food.
“Honey, it’s really delicious here! Let’s come eat together! Huh? This? This? Should we get this to go?”
Kouri, a lover boy who had risen from hell, was making a fuss while video calling his wife, showing her the food and talking about getting it packed.
“Ah, don’t touch it! Take a picture before eating!”
The remaining one was busy taking pictures of the food, perhaps for social media.
They were so noisy that all the customers in the store were watching them as if they were watching a performance.
I forgot about those goldfish poop…
They were eating as if they were going to bankrupt the store. Wow, he’s putting a whole slice of pizza in his mouth in one bite?
I’ve been coming to this store for several years now, and because it’s my favorite place, I always made sure to stop by and eat whenever I returned from a business trip. Of course, I was familiar with the owner. And I swear, as far as I know, I’ve never seen the owner smile so brightly before. I had always thought he was just the gruff type, but ah, it seems the order amount was just a bit short to draw out the owner’s smile.
They say elephants eat grass but eat enormously to maintain their size. What does the relatively cheap unit price matter if the total quantity overwhelms?
“Were you starving?”
I asked, dumbfounded after watching for a while, and the man who was stuffing his mouth while holding a plate answered.
“Everything about living here is good, but the slight mismatch in taste is a bit of a flaw. We’re from a hot country, you see.”
“Are you all from SAAD?”
At my question, all four of them flinched simultaneously. Kouri, who had just finished talking with his wife and was emptying his glass, glanced at me and scratched his head.
“Ah, is it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
Then they started whispering among themselves.
“Where? Didn’t we correct all our habits?”
“We’re not even using the weapons from back then anymore.”
“We’re deliberately avoiding everything.”
“That’s right. Honestly, there are a few things I’d like to use if we were allowed. The stuff from back then was more familiar in our hands, you know.”
“That’s true.”
They all dripped with regret. This is natural, of course. I have preferred brands too. People who don’t know think we like any gun, but each gun has its own grip feel, recoil, sensation, and even the color is, very slightly, different! For knives, the grip feel is really crucial, so if you have one you don’t like, you always feel a bit anxious and irritated. When you really need to use that item, it doesn’t perform as you want, and that moment of detail can be a life-or-death difference for us.
“Just use what you want. It’s not like it’s anything new for people in this industry to not be able to hide their origins.”
It’s probably the same for me. Wherever I go to work, people who see me will think ‘from Rotman Security Bureau’. If you watch how we work just a little, it all shows. The methods those institutions prefer, habits, language patterns, weapon combinations, banks they use… The habits you were first trained in are hard to hide.
“How did you first know I was from SAAD?”
Kouri seemed curious about that. I glanced at his shoelaces.
“That knot.”
“Ah, shit. The knot! I’m tying it like this again!”
Kouri looked at his sneakers following my gaze and screamed with a mix of irritation.
Changing habits is difficult. And changing them in bulk is even more difficult. Of course, in the case of operatives, I know they are corrected through thorough training. But for others, well, it’s kind of like a medal.
At that moment, Sebastian’s hand came and grabbed my chin to make me look at him. He had a face that didn’t like me chatting with other people.
“What kind of manners are these in the middle of a date?”
At his rebuke, I immediately apologized, saying “I’m sorry, my bad.” There were many things I could have said – it’s not a date, you do it often too, they’re your bodyguards – but somehow I felt the outcome wouldn’t be good. I had a feeling that just saying I was wrong would be best for my well-being. And my intuition tends to be quite accurate.
“Now tell me.”
“What?”
“You said you wanted to consult, right?”
Ah, right. That was the reason I came here! Not to have my fortune stripped away by those goldfish poop! Having lost a fortune, I needed to consult even more. I grabbed Sebastian’s hand that was holding my chin.
“You’re the smartest person I know. So think about it.”
Instead of me. My brain is at its limit now.
