Chapter 4
Shin, Please
* * *
It was barbaric, but without such asures, one couldn't even claim their own rights in the current age. Arnold looked at with anxious eyes, as if asking whether I truly agreed with this, but my resolve didn’t change.
“Strange. You and Winter both.”
Arnold, rubbing his face dryly over and over, turned to look at Winter. Dozens of ideas were already swirling in his head—revenge only brought more revenge, and this path could make him no different from Gerald.
But it wasn't as if Winter didn’t understand that. Still, would enduring it solve anything? If Gerald had truly reflected on his wrongdoing, things wouldn’t have beco this complicated in the first place.
The school had already decided to cover up the incident. The students, though sensing sothing was off, just let it go. In the end, it wasn’t their problem.
There was video footage recorded on a device, but the Public Enforcent Corps, who handled such evidence, were on Gerald’s side.
Winter had nothing he could do.
Just like back at the factory.
“I’m sorry, Uncle. But I can’t just stand by and watch. Maybe I’ll regret this decision later. But this kind of chance won’t co again. I’d rather act and regret it than regret not doing anything.”
A single sentence filled with unwavering resolve.
Arnold had to admit he had been treating Winter as a child all this ti.
Just because the words were spoken casually didn’t an the process behind them was shallow. If anything, he had probably gone over it countless tis in his heart before saying it aloud.
“Do you think I’m wrong for feeling this way?”
That sudden question left his mind blank.
No—this wasn’t the ti to consider such things.
“No, you’ve done nothing wrong.”
Arnold realized then that what had been holding him back all along was pretense and hypocrisy.
A mature response? Careful and deep consideration?
All aningless. When nothing ran according to reason, to demand exemplary conduct was nothing short of cruel.
Arnold silently patted Winter on the back and lowered his head.
“Shin, please.”
* * *
Though it had been a while since I’d received a request, the heavy feeling in my chest didn’t go away. I felt it every ti—being good, being upright, didn’t necessarily lead to a fitting outco.
Even more so in the do.
Since the Third World War, humanity had been enjoying its greatest golden age. The basic inco system and the neatly maintained streets were proof of that.
It wasn’t as if politicians had suddenly awakened to altruism. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they had done practically nothing.
Then how had these results co to be?
There was no need to even ask.
It was, quite simply, the fruit of endlessly advancing technology.
No matter how carelessly one built, an apartnt would never turn into a mud hut. That was how this standard of living had beco the norm.
Right—while the privileged class feasted on flesh, what remained was rely the bone.
Naturally, the insides had festered, teetering on the verge of rot.
The unjust incident Winter had endured was a fitting example.
The Public Enforcent Corps, who were supposed to be the people's shield, had long since lost their original function. Instead of seeing citizens as individuals to protect, they regarded them as subjects to discipline.
Scandals related to them had surfaced multiple tis before.
The most damning case was the ‘Millennium Code Gate’ that occurred in 2302 in Do No.1.
It all started with a report that patrol drones were reducing the severity of penalties or even dismissing charges altogether based on the target’s status.
Since it was dismissed as a conspiracy theory, hardly anyone took it seriously. Aside from major cris, most of the petty offenses encountered in daily life were handled exclusively by patrol drones.
They were functioning as legitimate tools for maintaining public order, so the idea that there might be flaws in the system ca as a shock.
Citizens believed—without a shred of doubt—that no matter how corrupt the city governnts managing the dos had beco, they wouldn’t dare make decisions that would shake the foundations of the entire community.
But it didn’t take long for those hopes and expectations to be completely crushed, once the VIP list was revealed to be real.
The Public Enforcent Corps dismissed all suspicions as groundless, but when a whistleblower surfaced with proof of the algorithm in question, the situation beca significantly more complex.
The company that had supplied the patrol drones, ‘Millennium Code’, was a gacorp spanning six dos.
One of the few entities capable of challenging the authority of the city governnts ruling each do. A group like that wouldn’t have released a product without proper contingency asures. It wasn’t the kind of issue they could have handled unilaterally in the first place.
Only then did people realize that there had been close negotiations between the two groups. And they finally recognized that the patrol drones were just the first warning shot.
With the rise of artificial intelligence, the value of labor had plumted. Tasks that once required a human hand were now routinely carried out over the network.
Exploiting that fact, they had tried to build a foundation that could bypass even the law—and were caught in the act.
Perhaps they thought it could no longer be hidden.
A hastily assembled special investigation acknowledged the existence of the relevant algorithm. It also admitted there had been so sort of agreent. It seed, at last, that justice would be served—but that turned out to be a complete illusion.
A fine of 5 billion Pia.
That was the amount imposed on Millennium Code, the company responsible for stirring such a social scandal. An amount so ager it was almost laughable.
A punishnt that could only be described as a slap on the wrist.
Outraged by a verdict that bordered on mockery, the public naturally erupted in protests—many of which turned violent.
Accordingly, a storm broke out against Millennium Code—not just for colluding with the tis, but for actively helping maintain the corrupt order.
Though it seed to have settled for the mont, with the chairman stepping down and the vice-chairman taking over to contain the damage, that was rely the prelude.
It was soon revealed that the vice-chairman who had seized control of Millennium Code was the brother of the president representing the city governnt—and the very person who had ordered the creation of the VIP list.
Once it ca to light that the chairman had been nothing more than a puppet—just a shield prepared in advance by the city governnt—the people flared up again at such brazen shalessness.
But by then, the statute of limitations had already expired.
Neither the Public Enforcent Corps nor the prosecution made a move. Despite clear causality and undeniable guilt, nothing changed.
Faced with such a helpless reality, the people no longer backed down. When they realized they couldn’t rely on public authority, a new resolve took root—the will to impose justice themselves, even if by private ans.
It didn’t take long for such radical ideology to spiral to the extre.
Everyone beca a vigilante—or soone acting on behalf of one.
What followed was a vortex of chaos.
The uncontainable chain of hatred finally cald only after an unknown individual slaughtered all those connected to the incident.
They say the ground hardens after the rain.
As if waking from a spell, people gradually began to find common ground.
New laws were even enacted regarding self-defense and self-redy.
In that process, the android investigators scheduled to be deployed alongside patrol drones were scrapped entirely, and the AI judge being prepared by the prosecution was also abandoned.
This case proved one thing: no matter how perfect artificial intelligence might be, the humans who handled it were not.
Technology had advanced, but morality and ethics had degenerated.
As a result, humanity failed to move forward and remained stuck in place.
It was around this ti that the profession of "problem solver" surfaced publicly.
In truth, the history of rcenary services ran deep throughout modern history.
Gangsters stepping into the light to open private detective agencies, gathering under the na of neighborhood watch groups, then promoting themselves as professional specialists using the grand term “problem solver”—but the essence had never changed.
They were proxies, realizing wishes that couldn't be fulfilled within the frawork of the law.
For an immortal who drifted through life without a legal identity, it was an irresistibly appealing job.
* * *
A rooftop of a deserted factory.
Whiiir!
As a patrol drone buzzed overhead, the group of students in uniform instinctively stepped back to create distance.
About the size of an adult man's upper torso.
Small in size, but thoroughly maintained to be deployable at any mont to a cri scene. It could begin suppression operations right now if needed.
Though it was equipped only with non-lethal armants for subduing, one could never be too sure. At that speed, even a collision could pose a threat.
Frankly, it was absurd for patrol drones to fly that low. Accidental contact could always happen.
That was why, under normal conditions, they were programd to ascend to altitudes where they wouldn't be easily seen.
Yet this particular patrol drone had strayed from its pre-set route—because of the controller clutched in Gerald’s hand.
“Once you get used to it, it’s no different from an RC car.”
Though it had scraped against things a few tis in the process, Gerald didn’t care. He fiddled with the hologram, casually piloting the patrol drone.
“This won’t get caught by the Public Enforcent Corps, right?”
“Ha, look at you getting scared—it doesn’t suit you. It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s my brother’s.”
It had been issued to a Sheriff—
“Just borrowed it for a bit. Nothing to worry about.”
It wasn’t the first ti. In fact, he’d even been caught last ti. But it had ended with just a warning. Sothing about not touching it recklessly next ti.
But that wasn’t enough to make Gerald stop.
Suddenly, the patrol drone clipped the wall of the factory.
Clang! A loud crash echoed as rebar and concrete ca loose and fell.
“Dumber than I thought.”
One of the gang muttered that, and Gerald let out a small chuckle. Even to him, the patrol drone seed sluggish. That sothing like this was guarding the do—what a joke. But it wasn’t surprising.
“There’s no artificial intelligence in it.”
“There isn’t?”
Another guy asked, and Gerald shrugged.
“Think they’d install AI in hundreds of thousands of units? Just flying around for half a day costs tens of millions of Pia.”
The essential functions were handled by a large-scale cloud computing platform. In other words, a group of AIs remotely controlled the drones.
To cut costs, the drones only had recording devices inside—no onboard processors.
—That’s how his brother had explained it.
‘No, wait. Didn’t he say they switched to a system that made audits easier after so gate incident?’
He felt like he’d heard sothing like that, but the details were fuzzy.
It was then that a voice ca from behind.
“More importantly, what are you gonna do about Winter? Heard he’s been kicking up a fuss, even talking about submitting a petition to the city governnt.”
“Waste of ti.”
This wasn’t friction between corporations. Who would pay attention to the misfortune of a single student? Besides, any docunts Winter submitted would be screened and deleted by the Public Enforcent Corps first.
“Just let him be. He’ll lower that stiff neck of his once he tastes so bitterness.”
“Can’t argue with that. You were amazing this ti.”
“I want a Sheriff brother too. Can I be the youngest in your family?”
“Piss off.”
Even Gerald didn’t deny it had been a good experience. He’d gotten a clear understanding of the reach of his power. Even if he faced a real criminal one day, he wouldn’t tremble.
Truthfully, this case was beyond what even a Sheriff could handle easily. But his family had been part of the Public Enforcent Corps for generations, so he had all kinds of connections.
It was thanks to that that the wildfire had been extinguished in advance.
‘So this is the legacy I’m inheriting.’
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