Chapter 21: Dance under the lights (7)

The night passed roughly, yet in its own way, gently.

Time had passed, meaning their choice was drawing nearer.

They had already made their choice.

To aim their swords at Red Stream.

Vivian, therefore, considered several more options.

The relationship between Core Works, their supposed backer, and Red Stream was, when examined, F24’s concern.

For Vivian and Lee Do, who were merely individuals, it wasn’t something to worry about greatly.

‘Is that really true?’

She glanced at the display of the Cyberdeck resting on the console box.

In this world, those who lived at odds with corporations were a dime a dozen.

As half of the requests/jobs came from corporations, it couldn’t be said that the countless deaths of Solos were unrelated to corporate influence.

Of course, the fact that Red Stream was the target before that also played a part.

No matter how much of a history they had of being shattered, was invading their headquarters even plausible?

It was a lingering thought she couldn’t shake off, even after spending several days with him at the motel.

A Solo with a bare body, invading the headquarters of Red Stream, which had once dominated Sector 11-A.

“…”

However, like the silence that filled the car heading towards Sector 11-A, there was no clear answer.

The sun was setting outside the window.

The sky, where various colors mixed and failed to show their own distinct hue, was always a mysterious sight.

As she had always done, she first calculated the risks of a failer request/job in her head.

Unlike a Solo who would die instantly on the scene, a contingency plan was essential for a Fixer.

If he, seated in the passenger seat, died, what should she do?

Immediately pack her bags and flee to another district?

Would that be enough?

Like the countless other Fixers, and as she herself had done?

She looked at Lee Do.

His emotionless face, which made it difficult to discern his thoughts, stood out.

“Hey.”

At her words, a similarly emotionless gaze returned.

“Just in case, what if the plan fails?”

“Fails?”

“You could die, you know.”

“Is there any point in asking me that?”

“What?”

“If I die, you can just run away. Do I need to decide that route for you too?”

“…No. That’s not it.”

Vivian closed her mouth, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

He was right.

She vaguely realized she had made a mistake.

Only the way they expressed it was different; Solos, by nature, were all resigned to death.

They, too, did not forget the fact that they were cannon fodder, at best, consumables.

The question of whether attacking Red Stream was truly right naturally shifted to the validity of a Fixer.

And that was far more difficult than creating a contingency plan.

Because she was confused.

‘…Being a Fixer is my original profession, though.’

Vivian Quill.

And the Fixer in between.

Handling those who had accepted death.

Wasn’t it no different from the structure of this world, which was like a cruel joke devoid of humanity?

She felt her hand gripping the steering wheel tremble slightly.

‘What am I thinking?’

Vivian quickly composed herself.

It was a m0ronic thought, so far removed from a professional Fixer.

So she decided to stop thinking.

It was better that way. Instead, she turned on the radio in the silence that seemed to suddenly become heavy.

Because the silence that had descended on the car had become unbearable at some point.

For some reason, she just turned the steering wheel with her tense and trembling hands.

And then, Lee Do spoke first.

“Hey.”

“……?”

Vivian turned her eyes.

Lee Do, on the other hand, had his gaze fixed on the radio.

“Go back. Just now.”

She usually set it to music, so she turned the channel that had automatically changed.

-Everybody, this is Digital Lisa with today’s weather forecast! It’s going to rain like a b@stard starting this evening…

“The one before that.”

She turned the channel further.

She turned up the volume.

-…Core Works may face court charges for allegedly using gangs to forcibly suppress citizen protests.

It was the radio.

The voice of the caster of a tedious program, belatedly revealing information already rampant in the underworld.

The car began to be enveloped in a different kind of silence.

-The labor rights group has released some of the victim footage on SNS. Not only did Core Works’ stock price drop by 3.8%, but the stock price decline also led to negative public opinion towards its parent company, Aishio….

[TL Note: SNS stands for Social Networking Service, and it’s commonly used in East Asian countries like Korea and Japan to refer to social media platforms.]

Core Works, fallen stock prices, victim footage from the labor rights group.

Strange words were listed and echoed on the radio.

Vivian looked up at Lee Do.

The car was still approaching that place, Red Stream’s headquarters.

Core Works.

The connection with that f*cking Core Works was severed.

It might be temporary, but the not-so-small repercussions were enough to shake Red Stream’s internals.

“This son of a b*tch!”

It was a critical juncture to begin the reconstruction in earnest.

The current Red Stream was essentially not the Red Stream of that time.

Core Works, those f*cking b@stards, weren’t even a Red Stream they could dare to covet. However, after all their main forces were killed three years ago, they became a good-for-nothing entity.

It was enough to threaten street pr0stitutes, dominate them, and extort money from passersby, but the remaining executives were not satisfied with that.

Core Works.

The manpower agency of Sector 11-A.

And Red Stream’s backer.

They had done all the dirty work, human trafficking, and money-making tasks as their limbs, but now they began to question their necessity.

‘…They were things I intended to cut off long ago.’

No matter how much of an Aishio subsidiary they were, it wasn’t that they couldn’t distinguish their own standing.

Especially now, with many sniffing around their tail, Red Stream was at a crossroads.

All executives, except for the Hounds who had gone to other regions, were gathered here.

“Let’s cut them off soon. We’ve endured those small-fry holding our leash for too long.”

“No, their protection is indispensable for our safety. Do you want to be shattered again?”

“All of you, shut up. It seems you’ve forgotten the essence of our Red Stream. Are you !diots? Who needs permission to cut people down?”

They were a mix of those blind to slaughter like low-level gangs, those obsessed with profit and loss, or just those who couldn’t let go of past glory.

Three years had passed.

In that three-year gap, which hadn’t even stabilized, this error had occurred.

It was time for Red Stream to truly make a decision.

The temporary leader, L-Q3, opened his mouth.

“Kill the b@stards who were digging into our backs first. We’ll decide on Core Works’ matter later.”

The space became quiet.

The city, submerged in darkness beyond the window, silently illuminated the table around which they sat.

Red Stream had already been incapacitated once before.

It was uncertain if it would be the same now, but they had to avoid becoming a government target as much as possible.

In the end, whether they wanted blood or money, it was an undeniable fact that Red Stream needed to be smoothly reconstructed.

How long must they hide in a curtain where no light could reach?

There was a clear discrepancy with the Red Stream of old, which would capture anyone who fell out of favor and dismember them.

They would continue to be dragged around like !diots, but the meeting had to end here.

-Currently 1st floor, 1st floor.

Until someone made contact.

Their eyes all turned to the leader’s table.

“……?”

-Currently 1st floor, repeating. Intruder, ah, sh*t….

“…Intruder?”

Everyone froze at once.

If they hadn’t misheard, the word “intruder” had clearly come out.

Intruder, an intruder?

Who?

Which b@stard dared to enter the headquarters?

Government lackeys? A corporation?

A fearless organization? A gang trying to show off by taking down Red Stream?

Amidst the constantly shifting gazes, the radio crackled again.

-Unjacked, Unjacked…! Intruder is Unjacked!

Unjacked.

…Unjacked?

L-Q3 frowned.

Standing up from the table, he immediately pressed a button to receive the transmission.

“What’s going on? Intruder?”

-Uh, Unjacked. Identity, unknown! Invaded the 1st floor, f*ck…!

“1st floor? You’re saying the intruder is Unjacked?”

-Yeah, you son of a b*tch! Send support!

L-Q3 looked up.

He looked around the table.

“Intruder? Unjacked? What the f*ck is that !diot saying?”

Unjacked.

Literally, purists without jacks.

It was impossible for such a person to exist in this world, and certainly, they couldn’t be found in Sector 11-A.

Weren’t those weak-willed idealists the ones who died from a street gang’s bullet without even reaching Red Stream?

L-Q3 asked again.

“What’s going on? You’re saying the intruder is Unjacked?”

-That’s right, you son of a b*tch!

“…What about the protection system?”

-Uh, since it’s Unjacked, ware infiltration doesn’t work! Turrets hacked too! Hacked! Someone’s nearby…!

Gazes stirred in the silence.

It was nonsensical.

An Unjacked and a hacker, it meant the absurd story of only two people invading.

It was a high-rise building in the outskirts, disguised as a Core Works subsidiary.

“…Turn on the camera.”

At L-Q3’s voice, a hologram appeared above the table.

And what appeared was a raw pistol without modules, the act of loading it, and pulling the trigger as soon as the chamber was changed.

The sight of the insignificant !diots guarding the 1st floor dying.

And a cigarette fell.

Leaving only the one flicked onto the floor, the strange sight of the intruder moving to another room.

-Sh-Sht…! Support, send fcking support, you sons of b*tches!

Unlike the noisy radio, the silence that had descended on the meeting room slowly began to stir.

And one of the executives watching it made a sound as if recalling a memory.

“…F*ck.”

It was a sight clearly in his memory.

That black hair, that strange paint tube-like thing.

The stand.

It wasn’t anything else; the humiliation of that time was vivid as if drawn in his eyes.

It was the Fixer and Solo he had met at the restaurant.

Since it was a disposable card anyway, he hadn’t paid much attention, but he must have said something like that, definitely.

‘They’re coming to attack….’

A mechanical sound mixed heavily and burst from his mouth.

It was a dry laugh.

The growling threat of a b@stard who would die readily if a bullet hole was put in his head was true?

And he was appearing in such a majestic manner?

Moreover, it was then.

The city lights flickered outside the window.

At the point when raindrops began to fall one by one, everyone looked out the window at the sound of something grinding.

An aerial insertion helicopter.

The Sky Fang VTOL, with F24 written on it.

A light flashed for a moment.

With a severe ringing in the ears, enough to break the implanted auditory modules, the window shattered.

“…F24 assault team reporting. Crate Tower 16th floor, Sector 11-A. Operation name: Red Stream Eradication.”

All the lights inside the building went out.

“Commence operation.”

The rain and wind were gradually intensifying.

The raindrops began to batter relentlessly through the broken window cracks of the building.