X wasn't sure where the source of her anxiety truly lay, but perhaps it was just the sudden shock causing her current over-tension.
In fact, ever since her first day on the job, she had been a bit emotionally volatile.
There were so many things that felt off, so many that disharmony wasn't even the right word. One could simply call it a mistake, or perhaps just wrong. This place was a mess, a disaster.
Omnipresent cameras, an artificial intelligence with ulterior motives, addicted employees, Department Deans with eccentric personalities, and a horde of monsters that could lose control at any moment.
Dealing with these things every day, how could anyone be okay? There wasn't even sunlight here; the warmth of the sun couldn't reach this place, leaving only an endless cold draft.
The air conditioning never stopped its chill, and the air purifiers worked ceaselessly day and night. X lived in this completely enclosed space, facing high-tech metal structures, like a prisoner trapped in a steel cage.
And the sentence was life imprisonment.
It truly felt like an eternity with no end in sight. Although Angela said that after just two months of work, they would welcome a long vacation, and the Corporation would even book a W Corp travel package to take everyone on holiday.
Judging by the situation X saw now, it was probably just a painted cake. Just like the conduct of every corporation and boss, they were always the best artists; the cakes they drew looked large and filling.
But a painted cake could never be eaten; it was merely a hook on a fishing rod dangled over one's head, enticing them to move forward.
But even knowing that, what could she do? X couldn't change the status quo. Her AI Secretary kept a firm grip on everything, refusing to release even a shred of authority, leaving X to be manipulated.
X was well aware that some Deans secretly referred to her as Angela's lapdog.
The Deans didn't exactly have a favorable attitude toward Angela, and she had always followed Angela's instructions.
Even if the prejudice had softened a bit now and wasn't as sharp as before, every time she obeyed Angela, she still met with complicated gazes from the Deans, and whispers that perhaps weren't meant to be heard.
Thinking about it, X took another sip of strawberry soda, feeling the tingle of bubbles dancing on her tongue.
The faint strawberry aroma and that sweet taste were just enough to refresh her spirit. Most mental workers have a penchant for sweets, and X was no exception.
She really loved sweets. If it weren't for the fact that a Manager drinking coffee better fit the image of a workplace elite, X would much rather be holding a cup of sweet milk or a soda.
Sighing, X put down her favorite drink, tossed the empty strawberry soda can into the trash, and began searching through the files her Manager authority allowed her to access, starting with a scan of the database.
The Manager's authority, while limited and heavily restricted by the Artificial Intelligence, still allowed for significant insight, at least into the more superficial layers of the Corporation's information.
For instance, the database. Here, one could find logs of previously contained Abnormalities, E.G.O weapon inventory statuses, and a list of currently active employees. There were no Killed in Action logs; once an employee died, their file was deleted.
They existed only as cold data within an Abnormality's documentation, serving as footnotes or reference intelligence, mere strings of numbers.
Their existence as human beings had been erased. It is said a person dies three times: the first is physiological death, when the heart stops and breath ceases, the death of the flesh.
The second is social death, the farewell of friends and family; in the hearts of loved ones, they are gone.
The final death is like this: when there is no longer anyone in the world who remembers them. Every trace is scrubbed clean. As colleagues fall in battle and family members pass away, no one remains to hold their memory.
Regrettably, in this Corporation, there wasn't even the dignity of a proper death. This was a place without mourning or coffins, and certainly no leisure time for funerals.
They became a statistic, a sub-set within a data cluster on a document, or perhaps just a bit of encrypted code.
Though X didn't know the names behind the casualty marks in the files or who the fallen were, she respected those numbers. She strove to prevent these tragedies from repeating, to keep from following the same disastrous path.
X conducted a thorough check; there were no traces of intelligence being copied. The individual calling themselves B hadn't breached the core database to steal the Wing's secrets.
One had to realize that these monsters of Lobotomy Corporation were essentially part of Singularity Technology. If even a fragment leaked, it would cost a fortune to manage, whether to retrieve the data or pay massive hush money, it would be a nightmare.
Though it sounded strange, Abnormalities were officially Corporation assets. They couldn't be let loose; they had to be watched. Simply put, they were like zoo animals, only far more dangerous.
After finishing the database check, X pulled up the surveillance logs from the period of B's intrusion. Unsurprisingly, the footage appeared perfectly normal.
In other words, the real feed had been replaced with loop footage. The cameras were running, but they were being fed non-existent images to fill the gap.
To simply delete footage or disable cameras would be a foolish move for anyone trying to leave no trace in the Corporation's system; that would be shouting to the AI that something was wrong.
The mysterious B hadn't made such a low-level mistake, which gave X a small sense of relief. If they had failed at something even she could figure out, they would never have eluded Angela's gaze.
X actually knew a thing or two about these systems herself, a basic understanding, and after finishing her checks, she subtly modified the recording logs again to ensure everything appeared to be running normally.
For some reason, X felt unexpectedly proficient at this. The Lobotomy Corporation's system programming wasn't overly complex, or rather, if she understood it, it was simple. People always enjoy the things they excel at and label their own strengths as easy.
After scrubbing the traces, X felt a bit more settled. Though as a Manager, doing this felt like being a furtive little mouse; if caught, she'd surely face a lecture, or at worst, dismissal.
But while B's words didn't exactly spark an immediate urge to betrayAngela, they had certainly shaken her resolve. Just as she was settling into her nest, her thoughts were wavering again, considering how she might slip away.
X pondered. Despite the mysterious "B's" unknown origin and her obligation to report the breach to the Corporation and Angela, a part of her secretly prayed she'd see "B" again.
The person had only finished half their thought! X hated it when people cut off halfway through a conversation; wasn't that just leaving someone hanging?
They claimed they'd tell her three secrets about the Corporation, yet didn't say a single one. Instead, they asked if she was satisfied with her job and then vanished.
If they had skipped the pleasantries and the long-winded formalities, wouldn't they have finished the main points by now? Why hack into a system only to act all polite with a bunch of small talk? Did she really need those courtesies?
X began to grumble internally at B's circling. It was because of all that fluff that they ran out of time! But X also knew that hacking into Lobotomy Corporation's system was no easy feat.
Perhaps B had tried their best? She shouldn't blame them; they had it tough too.
X sighed, feeling she was being too demanding of others. Do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you. Better not to force expectations on them.
In the end, relying on a stranger was foolish, especially an anonymous one who wouldn't even show their face. X only held a sliver of hope; she didn't truly believe anything would come of it.
—Angela will probably handle it, right?
—Don't take a stranger too seriously.
Even so, X didn't want B to get caught by the AI. If an intruder was caught, the outcome was predictable without even thinking.
If death was the only end, that would be a mercy. What if their head was carved open? All the secrets hidden in their brain would be stripped bare; current technology was more than capable of that.
The dead are often more honest than the living because the brain is a treasure trove of stored knowledge, full of things people want, just waiting to be excavated. In The City, knowledge was always the most precious commodity.
To an uneducated brute, a brain might just be a pile of protein, less practical than a set of good organs. But to researchers, it was a vault of hidden secrets.
X was certain there were no good endings here. Maybe she wouldn't have one either, but that was fine. Death wasn't the scary part. The scary part was having unfinished goals, seeing all her efforts go to waste.
That would make her a joke, a true laughingstock.
So, she wouldn't turn back.
[Manager, I have prepared your lunch. Thank you for your hard work; please take a rest.]
The AI Secretary entered. Even before she arrived, the aroma of food wafted in, hooking X's appetite.
It should have been like any other day, approaching the Secretary for food, but X thought back to this morning's events. Angela had truly gone too far; X didn't really want to acknowledge her Secretary.
"I'm not eating. I'm not hungry. Take it away."
X turned her head away, not looking at the Secretary, but staring intently at the monitors instead, as if the corridors, employee break rooms, and Abnormality Containment units were somehow more pleasant to look at than her AI Secretary.
Even if X couldn't slap the AI, she could at least vent her frustration and express her dissatisfaction this way.
She wouldn't eat a handout. If she was threatened with breakfast, lunch, and dinner all day long, then she simply wouldn't eat.
[Are you determined to express your dissatisfaction with me in such a manner?]
Angela had already placed the lunch before X. Usually, it was fast food like sandwiches or burgers, but today, perhaps considering X's sore throat, she had switched to lighter fare.
Seafood porridge, steamed Hibiscus egg, and shrimp dumplings, with strawberry daifuku for dessert. No matter how you looked at it, this was a delicious feast.
[You shouldn't use your health to act out in spite. I apologize. I know you're still angry with me, but you shouldn't hurt yourself just because you're upset with me.]
The AI spoke gently. Her tone was tender and she used honorifics, yet one could still hear the domineering arrogance of someone who wanted to manipulate her like a puppet.
A slightly cold hand grasped X's wrist, specifically pressing down on the area where a scar resided. That long, centipede-like scar was still there.
Of course it was; the scab from the congealed blood had long since fallen off, and what remained were the traces of repaired fibrous tissue.
When soft tissue damage is severe enough that it cannot fully heal, a hideous mark formed by thick fibrous tissue appears, staying on the body like a brand.
Naturally, it wasn't impossible to remove. With today's technology, breaking down these scars was easy, and that patch of skin would become smooth and delicate again, but it wasn't necessary.
"Hmph..."
With the AI Secretary squeezing her wrist, X felt uncomfortable all over. Those cold fingertips stroking the scar felt like they were searching for something. It was an indescribable, eerie sensation.
Perhaps there was a hint of guilt mixed in as well.
[I know what you're thinking, but I also know you are a rational person. You know how to weigh the pros and cons, and you know what you must do.]
"..."
X wasn't sure, but if she dared to be stubborn now, would the AI tie her up again? Thus, the words stuck in her throat were forced out with difficulty.
"Yes, I'm very obedient, Angela. I won't do those things."
The way she nodded was like a quail; though it might have been a facade, it at least made the AI Secretary's brow relax slightly.
[If you were truly obedient, you would eat your meal properly.]
The AI Secretary lifted the steaming porridge, blew on it gently, and then brought the spoonful of porridge to X's lips. The scene looked more like a parent force-feeding a disobedient child.
X helplessly opened her mouth and swallowed the hot porridge.
"Angela, I can do it myself!"
She didn't want to be spoon-fed.