Pointless Sympathy
I was in the middle of giving Napalm some advice that wasn’t really advice when I glanced at my phone.
"Ah, Mr. Vender. Looks like we're done here. I'll see you in the executive office."
I ended the call and turned back to her.
“That’s all I had to say. I’m leaving.”
With that, I walked straight out of the conference room.
Great America watched me go, then let out a small sound.
“…Hm. Tricky.”
She muttered something cryptic and left the room as well.
‘…Fuck. So she’s making me deliver the message after all.’
Only then did Napalm finally seem to grasp her exact position—one she’d been ignoring until now.
Outside these walls, she was a top-tier American hero. A star with millions of followers. The flame icon that Pax had paid a fortune to recruit.
But inside this conference room?
She had to lower her eyes in front of Great America. In front of me, she’d been stripped bare, every weakness observed and catalogued. And now she was reduced to a lowly errand girl, forced to deliver that damned “rule” to people who didn’t even matter.
It was pathetic. Degrading. Humiliating.
Why the hell had Pax even recruited her…!
Great America, who’d appeared out of nowhere. That fucking homo bastard, too. Everyone was ignoring her. Looking down on her.
‘What? Your neural pain is acting up? Fuck off. Who does he think he is?’
She wasn’t weak. She was a hero everyone acknowledged. The pain that felt like it was burning her skin was simply the fuel that made her stronger. She had zero interest in cheap sympathy like that.
But—
—Don’t raise your output today. You’ll lose sensation in your fingertips first.
…That sentence. The one Ryu Hajun had said. For some reason, it kept circling in her head.
It had to be anger. It had to be hatred. No, it should be anger and hatred.
So she tried to shake it off and wait for the others, when—
“…Haa.”
Napalm let out a long sigh and stared down at her left hand.
“This is ridiculous.”
She deliberately summoned flames at her fingertips. To prove he was wrong. To prove there was nothing wrong with her.
—Fwoosh—!!
She gradually increased the output.
“…?”
But the flames didn’t bloom as smoothly as usual.
“Ugh…?!”
A burning pain spread from her fingertips all the way to her wrist, like her nerves were on fire.
“He was actually right, fuck.”
It was as if… his words had been the correct answer all along.
*
Great America was an unpredictable variable. She had the body of an adult, but her way of thinking was that of a child. She had never learned how to form proper human relationships, nor did she possess any real moral framework. In essence, what drove her were little more than a desire for approval and primal urges.
That meant there were many things I had to pay attention to if I wanted to rehabilitate her.
In that sense…
‘…I’ve put out the most urgent fire for now.’
I believed I had chosen the best possible move.
Praise what was done well. Point out what was done poorly. The truth was, I would have to teach her every single social norm and trivial detail from scratch. Pax Corporation had only ever researched how to make her physically stronger and how to psychologically pressure and control her. The roles of teacher or parent had been impossible for them from the start.
Those were the roles I now had to fulfill—and so far, I considered it a success.
And it seemed I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“Impressive, Jun.”
Vender sat with his chin resting on his hand, speaking in an arrogant tone.
“To have brought Great America under control in such a short time.”
“Then now—”
“—You want authority over her official schedule and field deployments. That’s what you’re about to say, correct?”
“You know me well.”
“Essentially asking for operational control over Pax’s most expensive product… I remembered because you took such a long time to get to the point.”
What Vender said was probably true. Great America’s existence was incredibly important to Pax Corporation. Countless marketing campaigns and tangled interests revolved around her. Asking for virtually total authority over someone like that would naturally leave him speechless.
But—
“Approved.”
His answer had already been decided.
“It’s temporary. Two weeks.”
Of course there were conditions.
“If Great America causes another incident during that time, you will be held responsible.”
Those terms weren’t bad at all, so—
“Very well. I accept responsibility.”
I nodded and agreed to the condition.
Vender looked slightly surprised.
“…You say that so easily?”
“Authority without responsibility doesn’t last long. I know that much.”
“…Hah.”
“In return, you’ll have to guarantee my right to survive.”
“Your right to survive?”
“If I die or get kidnapped, what do you think will happen to Great America? She’ll spiral back into being uncontrollable.”
“…So what exactly does this ‘right to survive’ include?”
“I’m requesting a personal equipment budget.”
I stepped closer to his desk, placed my hand on it, and continued.
“Additional tactical suits, communication jamming devices, non-lethal suppression tools, emergency evasion gear.”
“…”
“I need them in large quantities—sturdy enough to be used roughly. You must prepare them.”
Vender waved his hand dismissively, looking utterly dumbfounded.
“That level of support is already provided to every member of The Paragon. If it’s not enough, we can simply assign someone from the Pax equipment team.”
His eyes now carried intense contempt. A bold look that practically screamed don’t spout such nonsense again.
“Our technology is world-class. Therefore, I will disregard what you just said.”
So I answered even more confidently.
“I refuse.”
“…What?”
“Why should I wear equipment made by Pax’s equipment team on my body?”
Vender narrowed his eyes at my words.
“What… do you mean by that?”
“I don’t want to wear Pax-made gear on my body. Not from a company that plants cameras in people’s rooms.”
“…Your distrust is extremely unpleasant.”
“Distrust? Ha. If you want trust, I’ll assume the footage has at least been deleted.”
“…”
Vender fell silent for a moment at my words.
Ha. These crazy bastards. The fact that they still hadn’t deleted it meant they really were a different breed when it came to money.
After a very brief silence—
“Fine. External equipment is permitted.”
Vender spoke lightly, as if granting a favor.
“However, there are conditions.”
“Such as?”
“You will report all equipment details to the Pax security team. Any equipment exceeding weapon-grade will be prohibited from entry. And if you aim that equipment at a Pax-affiliated hero, it will be considered an immediate breach of contract.”
“Reasonable.”
“That is how a corporation of this scale must operate.”
“Understood. We’ll do it that way.”
Of course, what I actually submitted would only be a report for show.
“But keep this in mind, Jun.”
At that moment, Vender spoke in a low voice.
“It is not that we cannot control Great America. We simply judged that you would be slightly more efficient.”
Vender was not an easy man. He might be surprised, but fear had been excised from him long ago. That was why he had survived in my previous life and had even manipulated Great America for a while, using her as he pleased. Letting my guard down against someone like him would be foolish.
“Thank you for reminding me of a fact I already know very well, Mr. Vender.”
For now, I decided to end the conversation here.
“Then I’ll be going. Please deposit the support funds into my account.”
“I will. It should arrive shortly.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
I left the executive office, and soon after—
Deposit: $50,000
‘Not bad.’
Only then… could I allow myself the smallest victorious smile.
From Pax’s perspective, it was enough to show they were being generous. From my perspective, it was the perfect amount to purchase camouflage equipment. I was quite satisfied with it.
Pax didn’t trust me. I didn’t trust Pax either. But for now, while we both needed each other, the contract stood.
The problem was that they held the superior position in this contract.
That was why I had to prepare.
‘Hm, the cipher code was…’
I immediately accessed a private encrypted messenger and entered the code that remained vivid in my memory.
—Tap. Tap tap—
There, a rather welcome nickname greeted me.
‘…Right. She should still be alive. This is the past, after all.’
In my previous life, there had been a single piece of equipment that withstood Great America’s eye beam head-on for two whole seconds. The insane woman who created it was—
The woman known as Hope.
I slowly typed into the messenger, hiding my fond and nostalgic feelings.
…As expected, her personality was exactly the same as in my previous life.
I let out a small chuckle and continued the chat.
I could practically see her flustered expression through the screen. But of course, it didn’t end there.
Because—
She really was quite hot-tempered.