Chapter 7: Enemies in the Same Boat (3)
The only beings I could trust, right here and now, were Jigupa and James.
There had never been all that many people around me to begin with.
For one thing, the orphanage half-treated me as a problem child. I'd never caused any trouble within its walls, but I had broken curfew one time too many — slipping out and staying away long past the hours the orphanage had set, only to wander back in late, again and again.
Through the eyes of the orphanage staff, I must have looked like a delinquent, the kind who was out doing who-knew-what until the middle of the night. They had done their best as teachers to discipline me, sat me down for one counseling session after another, but my behavior never improved, and by now they had all but given up.
What had the mood at the orphanage become since I vanished? Was Jihye doing all right?
I couldn't even reach Jihye — one of the few people I truly knew — which meant that, strictly speaking, my situation amounted to joining hands with people I "couldn't quite bring myself to trust."
Jigupa was the more tolerable of the two.
Neither of us knew anything about the other's past, but apart from that, we got along well enough. By Jigupa's measure, I was "the friend who gets you home safe when you're drunk," and by mine, Jigupa was "a person who isn't particularly suspicious."
Why he helped me this much without a single word of complaint, I couldn't say. Was it because I was a magical girl? Not that he'd ever looked at me the way people used to look at Hayun.
James, though...
If I had to name the least trustworthy person I'd ever dealt with in my life, I would pick James. With Jigupa, at least, the ignorance ran both ways; James, on the other hand, held one-sided knowledge about me while never once offering anything about himself.
The problem was that, in my current situation, going without James's help was utterly impossible. And the condition attached to that help was revenge.
I wanted revenge too, if I could have it. It wasn't as if my past life or this one had been without people I'd dreamed of punching in the face. The reason I never had was that reacting that way, every single time, would have dealt staggering damage to my ability to live among other people.
It wasn't just me, either — everyone lived like that. Where in this world was there anyone who simply refused to endure?
Magical girl or not, I couldn't begin to imagine what would become of me — hunted, as I was, by the most powerful people in this country — once I'd had my revenge.
"You reach that conclusion because you think of revenge only in fragments."
As though he knew exactly what was going through my head, James said it in a voice I found intensely grating.
"Chasing down whoever landed a blow on you and landing an identical blow in return could be called revenge, I suppose. Some people do regard assaulting or killing someone as its ultimate form. In a barbaric age, it would have been an excellent method — a one-dimensional demonstration that whoever touched you could be made to suffer the same."
I stared at James in silence. Perhaps drunk on his own words, he didn't seem to notice my gaze at all.
"But that is impossible in modern society. There is such a thing as public authority. If you beat or kill someone in the name of revenge, what comes after you is the police. And the 'government' will take its 'revenge' upon anyone who violates the law for personal reasons."
"So what exactly are you proposing?"
"Naturally, the power you currently possess must itself become the means."
"Isn't that the same thing in the end?"
Using my power meant beating someone, or killing them. Not that I had any intention of killing — I'd swing at someone if I had to, but like every other magical girl, I had no desire to become a murderer.
"It means the targets must be chosen with care. At the moment, with their plans thrown into disarray, both the Galaxy Federation and the Company appear to be in confusion — but give it a little time, and they will begin opposing each other again."
James said this while chewing sunflower seeds with a thoroughly villainous expression.
"The plan was to hand over the most important existence for the next phase of research — and that existence vanished. The Federation, for its part, now has no choice but to suspect the Company of betrayal. And the government, having trusted both organizations, has been saddled with the framing of an incompetent authority that couldn't even catch the terrorist. As a bonus, they are no doubt terrified that your truth will come to light."
"So what you're saying is, before long they'll all be at each other's throats trying to pin the whole mess on one another?"
"You took the words right out of my mouth. They were never that tightly bound to begin with. The government does not want the Federation interfering too deeply. The Company must settle its management succession as quietly as possible, so this problem had to be resolved quickly. And the Federation needed to find another way forward of its own — the number of magical girls is far too limited."
I'd heard other countries had magical girls too, or beings much like them. Few in number, of course. If anything, proportionate to population, Korea actually had quite a lot.
That was why the webtoon had portrayed it as an important region, too.
"Their interests aligned exactly once — that is all this was. There was an idiot who wanted to inherit control of the Company; the government meant to use that idiot as a foothold for interfering in the Company's affairs; and the Federation, in the midst of it all, hoped to find a different way forward."
Exactly once.
How the story unfolded from here would depend on how they moved, but the fact remained: they had cooperated exactly once, to create a chance that would favor them. And the result was this mess. And if you asked what had caused the mess — naturally, I had been at the center of it.
I was right to run, back then. Even if I hadn't, my life would have been a gutter all the same. And a gutter with at least a little room to stretch out beats a cramped one.
"Isn't that arrangement far too unfavorable for the Company?"
"Because the Company only ever intended to hand over a single technology. It is what is being called the 'Circuit' — and setting aside the emotional component, the underlying technology is nearly identical. But 'a technology for efficiently extracting small amounts of energy from ordinary people' is another matter entirely."
They held the core technology and facilities for everything else, so perhaps they believed that as long as they never surrendered that piece to the Federation, they could protect the Company one way or another.
"But in the long run..."
Once you held the core of a technology, applying it came down purely to time and budget. Given enough time, any other corporation could optimize the facilities and raise productivity. No telling how many obstacles they would hit along the way, of course.
"The world has never lacked for people so blinded by short-term profit that they toss long-term gain away entirely. Or perhaps the 'long-term gain' he saw was something else altogether. He might run for office a few decades from now, say — as someone who contributed, in whatever fashion, to solving the destruction of Earth's environment."
"..."
"And, as I mentioned, the two Circuits share far too much. Conversely, given time, budget, and enough repeated failures, the Federation would eventually have produced a 'Circuit' of its own. Perhaps the next chairman saw that. Even so — yes, as you say, it was a foolish move."
"Fine, let's grant that's how it is between those two. Then what about the government? They were the ones profiting from the middle while the other two were at each other's throats."
"Because of this incident, both the Federation and the Company have ended up watching the government's every move. The government's prestige has taken a hit, certainly — but not nearly enough to overturn the nation. Unless the administration falls, that is."
Fair enough. It wasn't as if a war had broken out.
"The failure to stop the terror attack can be pinned on the Company's poor management, and the failure to arrest you on the magical girls' inadequacy."
"And if I do get caught? The whole thing was carried out on the assumption that I would be, wasn't it?"
"The Company has no intention of handing over all of its technology at once, and if it goes a step further and begins supplying equipment to the Federation using the facilities it has already built, the story changes. First, the government — knowing the inside of every one of those incidents — gains a hold over them. Second, while it turns a blind eye to the Federation's facilities, it manages the Company's facilities strictly under Korean domestic law, in its own fashion."
The reason the Company could relocate to Korea and profit outside the Federation's laws was that it was paying for the privilege through technology transfers to the Korean government.
And so the facilities and equipment of "Noir Corporation," registered as a "domestic company," all fell under the laws of the Republic of Korea. Since the government had to receive the technology behind whatever those facilities produced, I imagined it kept a fairly diligent watch as well.
In other words, for the Company to supply equipment to the Federation was impossible without the Korean government's blessing.
Which meant the government's position — profiting from the middle — remained intact.
...Honestly. Every last one of them, so faithful to their own desires.
"Then, one last thing."
I said it looking down at James.
Perhaps a little cowed, he set down the sunflower seeds he had been industriously gnawing at since earlier. Well — the difference in our body sizes was, after all, absolute.
"So why did you betray a company like that? If all you wanted was to sell your technology, you had plenty of ways to save your own skin."
"Why, naturally — because I have no intention of letting my technology be used for something as petty as a power struggle."
"Isn't that a little too idealistic?"
"It troubles me greatly to see technology capable of turning ideals into reality used for nothing more than launching ships."
...A technology that could "merely launch ships" would be enormously important.
"I want to reverse the entropy of the universe. I look toward a technology that creates something from nothing — or a method of power generation that puts out more energy than is put in."
"Is the universe really suffering an energy shortage that bad?"
I didn't know much about it, but the Federation already seemed to know how to fly space battleships while keeping environmental destruction to a minimum.
"That is a misconception."
James declared flatly.
"Being able to reach space merely means resources are freely accessible. In reality, the limited energy contained in the universe is being consumed without pause. And the pace is only accelerating."
"How long will that last?"
"Probably no more than a few billion years remain. Research into traveling to other galaxies to harvest energy has not even begun."
At words that made my head swim, I sat staring blankly for a moment before opening my mouth again.
"Does the Squeakarian lifespan happen to run a few hundred million years, by any chance?"
"No different from Earthlings', I'm afraid."
"Then the Federation — or anything else — might not even last that long in the first place, no?"
"Which is precisely why we intend to make it sustainable?"
I was starting to understand why this guy had never managed to last inside that company.
"Don't tell me this Chairman of yours thought the same way?"
"It is the company's founding ideal: that even when not a single star remains in the sky, the lives of living things may continue on, without end."
So that was why it was "Noir."
And I think I understood why the Chairman had been cast aside, too.
"Do you find it absurd?"
"..."
I weighed it for a moment.
"Absurd or not, in the end I have to cooperate with you, don't I?"
"If you want my technical expertise, then yes."
"...Then I suppose I have no choice."
Well, at least if he meant the things he said, it only meant he was an engineering nerd with a bad case of grandiose delusions.
He'd probably climbed to that position entirely on the Chairman's backing. He didn't seem the type to survive office politics. Then again, if he hadn't had it, what kind of mad executive on earth would shower a mere combatant with all manner of the latest equipment? At a rate of one upgrade per sortie, no less.
"You are thinking something terribly rude right now, aren't you?"
James asked, but all I did was shrug.
James didn't seem any more eager to keep talking with me than I was with him, and there our conversation ended.
I went back to the manga in Jigupa's room, and James returned to his seeds and nuts.
Then again — he really did eat nuts, looking like a hamster and all.
Must be nice, the people of that planet. Housing prices, construction costs — comparatively less to agonize over. Or maybe their breeding rate was so explosive that it made no real difference from Earth after all.
I turned this and that over in my head, but the thought that surfaced last, in the end, was simply that this was how things stood now — and so, unable to concentrate on the manga after all, I could only slide it back into its place on the shelf.
Speaking of housing — Jigupa's place, naturally, hadn't been free.
It wasn't even his own home to begin with.
I'd never asked about Jigupa's past, but assuming he'd lived an ordinary life back on his home planet, buying a home on Earth — in the middle of Seoul, South Korea, no less — would be next to impossible. About as difficult as it would be for me to buy a house in the capital of some foreign developed nation. Mainly in terms of cost.
Naturally, I had no intention of living under his roof for free. But I didn't exactly have money on hand, either.
And so, as a result, I ended up following Jigupa out to a day-labor site.
It had nothing to do with Noir Corporation. If anything, it was, quite literally, an ordinary construction site — nothing towering, just something like the construction of a five-story walk-up apartment building.
People from Jigupa's planet were often stronger and hardier than they looked, so they were welcomed at places like this, I was told.
Whenever there was no Noir Corporation work to be had, Jigupa apparently worked at such places, keeping body and soul together one day at a time.
...The more I heard, the more it ached. Then again, I'd heard Noir Corporation paid handsomely for a day's work, however dangerous the job.
"...An Earthling? Kid, you look awfully young."
And so, having followed Jigupa out there, I found myself on the receiving end of exactly that assessment.
An Earthling — and a face that, even counting generously, looked barely early twenties.
James had judged that if the apparent age of the mask on my face diverged too far from my real age, the odds of being found out were high. In the end, the mask I wore bore the face of a woman in her early twenties.
"She may look like this, but she's good at heavy work. We'd be grateful if you'd trust us just this once."
Jigupa said it with a polite bow, and I hurried to bow after him.
"Hmm..."
The man rested his chin in his hand, still looking doubtful, studying me before he spoke.
"This job is demolition. It's not a big place, but there'll be walls to break down and the like. Not sure a kid like you can manage it."
"Just leave it to me."
I said it with confidence.
If the work required actual skill, my chances of failing were high — but if it was just breaking things, I was confident.
I'd swung a hammer before, after all. ...Mostly at people rather than walls, admittedly.
Bare-handed, it would obviously have been impossible, but I was wearing the Circuit on my wrist right now. It was still winter, so a pair of gloves could cover it, and James hadn't been blind to the issue either — he'd dressed up the Circuit's outer shell to resemble one of today's smartwatches. The Circuit had always looked like a smartwatch anyway, and now it genuinely displayed a watch face as well, leaving hardly any reason left to be caught out.
"...Well, since it's Pangpang vouching for you, I'll trust you with it. We'll see."
Fortunately, that pleasant-faced man gave his approval.
Jigupa flashed me a grin, and I gave a shrug.
Bang!
No matter how far the world advanced — tearing open space, developing the technology to fly beyond the universe — construction sites never became any more revolutionary.
People still hauled the loads, and smashed the things that needed smashing. What protected your head was a hard hat; what protected your feet was a pair of safety boots.
In the end, I supposed it meant having humans do the work directly was still cheaper. Well, by that logic, combatants should all have been robots, too. The kind of robot James had seemed to be piloting.
I hefted the hammer again and swung with everything I had.
Bang!
If a whole house were being torn down, hauling in bigger equipment and flattening it in one go would make sense. But the word "demolition" covered more than destroying the house itself — it also meant gutting the interior of a single floor, or a single unit, inside a building.
Before a remodel, everything had to be stripped out, and sometimes things wouldn't come out simply, or partition walls thrown up to divide rooms had to be knocked down.
And, truly by good fortune, I was perfect for that job.
When I loaded the wreckage of the drywall I'd smashed into the wheelbarrow and dragged it out, the man who had eyed me with suspicion that morning after Jigupa's introduction went round-eyed.
"You did all of that alone?"
He'd told me he'd send people over and to just do as much as I could manage — I had done the whole thing myself, and he seemed genuinely impressed.
"This much is doable."
Not that I was doing it on my strength alone.
"Good grief..."
The man looked me up and down with eyes that couldn't quite make sense of me.
My face was hidden, but my figure couldn't be entirely. I wore the loosest clothes I could to mask it, but even so, my body — slim except for the chest — hardly gave the impression of great strength.
And he could hardly leap to thinking I was half-alien, either. Aliens had only come to this Earth five years ago.
"You done this kind of work before?"
"...Yes. Something similar."
"Huh."
Only after hearing my answer did the man nod.
"You've lived a hard life, haven't you."
"..."
I had nothing to say to that, so I bowed my head briefly and dragged the wheelbarrow back to where I'd been working.
I took up the hammer again and broke down, cleanly, everything that needed breaking.
Honestly, it demanded less strength than it would from most, but it wasn't exactly cheerful work. Time seemed to crawl. However many hours you put in, weariness was only natural.
Still, if there was one good thing about it, it was this: while I worked, I didn't have to think about the state I was in.
Bang.
Bang.
Steadily swinging the hammer, little by little breaking down what had once been built. Some other crew would come along and fill the wreckage in neatly with something new.
If only the obstacles standing in front of me could be smashed away just like this.
Not that I expected anyone to rebuild what I broke. But even just that much would have made things so much easier.
...The Circuit ran on without pause.
Thanks to it, I was able to see that day's work through to the end, properly.