Chapter 5
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Natalie’s POV
I hate men (Misandry)
Why?
Because they killed my heart.
But I’m not a feminist.
Realistically, women can’t beat men in muscle strength, and men have more power in society.
To equalize it is the job of politicians.
So, I’m not interested in that.
But, I guess, for the first time since ((that day))
I was interested in the opposite s*x.
His name is Lou Bradley.
Or rather his Japanese name is Kitaoji Ren.
To be honest, I still don’t understand it.
I don’t understand how an organ transplant can cause a person’s original personality to take over the body.
But the evidence presented by Robinson is true.
And since the CIA team has investigated it with varying degrees of certainty, I can’t deny it.
As much as I don’t want to believe it, memory transfer does have its examples.
The most famous one is the case of Claire Sylvia.
She suffered from severe PPH (primary pulmonary hypertension) and underwent a successful heart-lung transplant operation at Yale University Hospital in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1988.
She was told only that the donor was an 18-year-old boy from Maine who had died in a motorcycle accident.
A few days later, she noticed that her tastes and personality were different from before the surgery.
―――
(1) Change in tastes
She used to dislike green peppers, but now she likes them.
She also started to like Kentucky Fried Chicken’s chicken nuggets, although she used to dislike fast food.
(2) Change in personality
She walks like a man.
Also, she has become very active, whereas she used to be quiet.
(3) Others
She knew the first name of the boy who appeared in her dream, and she was sure that he was the donor.
―――
But the coordinator of the transplant refused to allow her to contact the donor’s family. However, she was able to contact the boy’s family through an article in a Maine newspaper about a fatal accident on the same day as the transplant surgery, and they were able to meet with the boy’s family.
The family told her that the boy’s name was the same as the one she had seen in her dream.
He was an active young man who liked green peppers and chicken nuggets and worked three part-time jobs while attending high school.
Thus, in 1997, Sylvia published her own story (*1).
―――
Since there are earlier manga dealing with memory transference, it is likely that it happens frequently.
In Lou’s case, it seems to be almost true, since a famous hospital in Massachusetts, which has produced more than 10 Nobel Prize winners, has admitted it.
(…a mysterious man)
As I look through the CIA’s classified intelligence files, it occurs to me.
His exploits in Panama, Gulf, and Yugoslavia are tremendous.
After becoming a mercenary, he has been in Iraq, Libya, Syria, Georgia, Ukraine, and so on.
Among his notable achievements are the search operation for the former president in Iraq and the murder of a colonel in Libya.
Although he was a white man, he spoke fluent Arabic, understood Islam, and was always respectful, which made him popular even among Arabs who were strongly anti-American.
After his death, his close friends sent anonymous donations to his bereaved family.
His final rank in the U.S. Army was a sergeant.
”…Hmm?”
There is an interesting sentence in the remarks column.
The Japanese translation is as follows
’Details are still under investigation, but it was determined that Lou was killed by the same group responsible for the shooting down of Malaysia Airlines Flight 17.
They are actively seeking out and killing American mercenaries.
They are so aggressive that even Russia, which supports them, is unable to control them.
There is a possibility that they will commit terrorist acts in Turkey and other countries where U.S. military bases are located in the future.’
(Russia?)
As I re-read the article, the words faded away.
Then, the whole text disappeared in a few seconds.
The document seems to have been updated.
Or perhaps,
(…for me to read?)
Since the NSA (National Security Agency) agent revealed the secret, the U.S. has been working more and more on anti-hacking measures.
I am trying to be careful not to be exposed, but there is no guarantee that I will not be exposed.
If the CIA has been letting me swim around, showing me what they have been up to, what is their intention?
”…”
Before my eyes, all of Lou’s information is disappearing.
But I am not a fool.
I have already saved it via USB (Universal Serial Bus).
I connect it to a spare PC and look at the contents.
”…”
And then, I read through his documents with all my heart.
I find the hideout of the Red Army faction and give instructions over the communicator.
”Nikolai, blow a hole in the wall.”
’…’
As usual, he is silent, but I hear the sound of a Dragunov (SVD) being readied.
Then a shot rings out.
Following him, I charge in.
I don’t yell “Banzai or Uraa” like the Japanese and Russians do.
I kick down the door and shoot dead a member with a Beretta when I see them.
The clothes of the victim are a good indicator of whether or not he is a member of the group.
They wear masks and sunglasses with helmets designed with iron and hammers.
They are of advanced age.
Like gangsters, this is an organization that is not easy for young people to join.
These people are still living in the Cold War era.
They will change the world.
Even if it is violent, it is ‘rebellion rational.’
No matter how many people are killed or injured, as long as the revolution succeeds, that is all that matters for them.
This dangerous ideology is no different from that of extremist Islam.
Now, an old man with a metal bat attacks me.
His clouded eyes are like those of a fool living in the Showa era in the Reiwa era.
”…”
I dodge quickly and shoot at zero range.
The old man’s head blows off.
”Capitalist pig!”
But then, the old woman spits.
I don’t get it.
”Hey, bitch! What’s the state of capitalism?”
”We’re on the edge because of it!”
She answers.
So kind.
”What about communism?”
”It’s the ideal society for everyone!”
”Then why did the Soviet Union collapse?”
I put a grenade in the old woman’s mouth.
”…!”
She mumbles something, but I can’t hear her.
”The correct answer is, hmm? ‘It’s one step ahead of capitalism’? You red woman…”
Then I pull out the pin and force her to swallow.
”Ghh!”
She tries to spit it out, but she can’t.
I quickly run for cover.
Seconds later, it explodes, and the old woman is safe, dead for the revolution.
When I return to the car after killing all the remnants of the Red Army, Robinson is waiting for me.
”Well, isn’t that too brutal? You look like Ted Bundy (American serial killer).”
”No. I have no taste for rape or necrophilia.”
”Confirmed kill count is five. ―Uh, Nikolai, you can go home now. Good night.
”…”
He left curtly.
”I’ll take the body to the police. You didn’t leave any evidence, did you?”
”Don’t play with me. Do you know how long I’ve been working with the CIA?”
”In this day and age, you’d probably be judged in Nuremberg or Tokyo”
I’m so used to war, I don’t have mercy.
Even if they are children, as soon as I find out they have bombs, I’ll kill them.
That’s war.
* * *
Main Character’s POV
”I’m going to call the police now. Please drive Natalie home.”
’Me?’
”Yeah. You’re a gentleman, right? And you’ve got a fiancée.”
’I wouldn’t touch her.’
”That’s what I’m talking about.”
’All right. Good night.’
”Good night.”
I leave Robinson and go to the cabin.
That’s where Natalie is.
I don’t go inside, but I call her on the comm.
”Natalie. Robinson sent me. I’m going to drive you. Come on out.”
’…’
As expected, there is no answer.
But there is a sound inside, so I wait for a while…
*Bang!
The door opens and Natalie comes out.
She is dressed in all black, reminding me of a witch.
It’s nighttime, so it’s hard to see her.
”…”
Like Nikolai, Natalie is silent as she walks away.
There is no word of thanks.
I don’t ask for one either.
””…””
Then, the two of us get into my Skyline.
Since Natalie is a middle schooler, she can’t drive.
So I’m gonna drive.
By the way, Satsuki didn’t buy the car.
It’s a used car I bought for the same price a high school student can afford unless he spends a lot of money.
”Hmm?”
I felt uncomfortable where Natalie was sitting.
She, who has a phobia of men, was sitting in the front passenger seat, not in the back seat.
”…”
Now, Natalie asked in her machine voice, as she should have, looking concerned.
’What? Was the passenger seat reserved for your fiancée?’
”No, it’s not like that, but…”
’Then it’s okay, right? I can sit anywhere I want, right?’
”…Yeah.”
Maybe she hates men, but her words are intimidating.
I’m fine with it, though, since I don’t bend my navel at the seating position.
”…”
I turn on the engine and start the car,
’Good work.’
”!”
When I turned around, Natalie was looking out the window.
I couldn’t see her expression clearly.
But she must have had the courage to say it.
Her ears are red.
(…She’s kind of cute, isn’t she?)
With a wry smile, I get back on the steering wheel.
Natalie’s house is in the American Embassy.
When I stopped in front of the embassy, a policeman came immediately.
Although it is not the case now, in the Showa period (1926-1989), the U.S. embassy was a target of terrorism, with ‘far-left extremists’ shooting rockets into the embassy.
In Iran, there was a hostage crisis.
In Libya, an ambassador was killed.
So, it is only natural that the Japanese government, which is pro-U.S., should be more concerned about the embassies of this country than the embassies of other countries.
”Excuse me, who are you?”
”I’m a military attaché. I’m here with the young lady.”
”Excuse me, may I see your driver’s license?”
”Yes.”
I show him a forged international driver’s license issued by the CIA.
The skill is so sophisticated that only a specialist in the field of forensics can detect it, and a mere policeman can hardly detect it.
”Thank you very much. It doesn’t look like an official car?”
”Yes. It’s a private car. I’m out on personal business.”
”Please wait a moment.”
A police officer checks his tablet terminal for entry and exit records.
”…confirmed. Please come in.”
”Thank you.”
I smile and go through the open gate.
I pull up in front of the entrance and get off the car.
I open the passenger door.
”We’re here. Princess.”
’…’
She gives me a middle finger.
Well, it’s not easy being a young lady at my age.
If I were her father, I’d be crying.
’Present for you, boss.’
Natalie pulled out a USB from her pocket.
”…what’s this?”
’A classified file of the USFJ (U.S. Forces in Japan). It’s for you, a gentleman, to congratulate you on today’s war.’
”Hey, hey, hey. You’re American, right? You can’t be a Snowden type, can you?”
’Unfortunately, my homeland is Germany and Japan. But the KKK (Ku Klux Klan) America hates Nazism.”
”…”
’That’s from me. Then, good night.’
That said, she’s going inside quickly.
”…”
Even as I send her off, I’m still curious about what’s inside.
I get back into the car and immediately connect the USB to my laptop.
Stuck on the USB drive was information about the U.S. soldiers in Japan.
Among about 50,000 soldiers, only the name of ‘Bradley’ was listed.
(…no way).
Among hundreds of them, I was naturally looking for a certain name.
And then I find it.
”…You’re kidding, right?”
I uttered a voice that was a mixture of surprise and joy.
Literally, the person I had seen in last my dream was there.
Sharon Bradley.
.
［References and Sources]
1: Wikipedia partially revised.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.