Chapter 58: Counter-Trap

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: Counter-Trap

Mataguchi’s monologue, POV

--------

?The brief physical warmth of the encounter faded almost as quickly as it had registered, leaving behind the cold, ambient hum of the executive office. Suzanne lingered close, her fingers still resting lightly against the fabric of my jacket, reluctance written plainly across her sharp features.

?"You should stay a little longer," she murmured, her voice dropping into a soft, low cadence as she leaned in slightly. "We have time before anyone checks the terminal logs again."

?"Remaining here past the necessary operational threshold increases visibility," I replied, my tone flat, steady, and entirely devoid of inflection. "If we are observed lingering together under these parameters, it will generate unnecessary complications for my schedule."

?Suzanne paused, her dark-flecked eyes searching my face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, a faint, resigned sigh escaped her lips. She slowly withdrew her hands, stepping back to afford me space.

?"You always know how to kill the mood, AI," she said, though the edge of amusement returned to her tone, masking the underlying sharpness of her disappointment. She crossed her arms, watching me with a gaze that blended affection with quiet intensity.

?"Fine. Go. But come back and meet me again soon. Next time, in a more private location where the terminal cameras won’t even register our presence."

?"I think we could use that location like last time," she added, her eyes shifting to the side.

?You mean your house.

?I offered no verbal confirmation, keeping my expression entirely neutral as I turned toward the heavy steel door.

?The exit hissed open, sliding away to reveal the sprawling, brightly lit expanse of the upper administrative corridor. As I stepped through, the door sealed shut behind me instantly, cutting off the heavy scent of sterile ozone and perfume.

?My half-lidded eyes swept the hallway with the dispassionate precision of an optical lens. Fifty meters back, half-concealed behind a curved structural pillar, the two maintenance-suited figures from earlier were lingering. This time, they had integrated seamlessly into the workflow, pretending to inspect a wall-mounted holographic diagnostic panel with practiced, unnoticeable efficiency.

?They were maintaining distance, utilizing environmental camouflage to mask their trailing pattern.

?I maintained my measured cadence, walking straight ahead toward the primary elevator bank.

?As I rounded the corner into the main sector junction, Dr. Vance stepped out from an open laboratory doorway, holding a portable data slate.

?"Mataguchi," Vance called out, offering a casual wave as he closed the distance. "Heading out already? You barely spent ten minutes with Suzanne."

?"The required data transfer was completed efficiently," I replied, coming to a halt.

?Vance let out a light laugh, shaking his head. "Efficiency, right. You know, high school must be a real drag for someone wired like you. How’s it actually treating you lately? Anything interesting happening over at the academy?"

?"It is tolerable," I said, my gaze resting flatly on his face.

?"Though the human behavioral patterns within the student body provide a consistent source of analytical variables. It could be classified as mildly interesting."

?"Mildly interesting, huh? Better than staring at drywall calculations, I suppose," Vance chuckled, clapping a hand lightly on my shoulder before gesturing down the corridor. "Well, don’t work yourself into an early burnout, kid."

?Drywall calculations? Is this a new phrase?

?Before I could respond, Dr. Arisawa emerged from an adjoining lab, flanked by her black-haired colleague with the sharp, piercing eyes and hime cut.

?"Leaving so soon without stopping by my lab, Mataguchi-kun?" Arisawa asked, stepping forward with that familiar, overly affectionate smile that didn’t quite reach her yellow cat-like eyes. She turned slightly toward her colleague. "Aria, look who’s trying to slip past us."

?The black-haired researcher—Aria—shifted her gaze toward me, her expression cool and composed, though her black-lipped mouth curved into a faint, polite smirk. "He rarely deviates from his designated routes unless an objective demands it. You should know that by now, Arisawa-san."

?I turned my head slightly, calibrating my response with absolute economy.

?"Aria," I stated evenly. "A pleasant linguistic designation."

?For a fraction of a second, the cool, professional composure on Aria’s face flickered. A sudden flush of color touched the tips of her ears, though she quickly smoothed over the micro-expression, narrowing her dark-lidded eyes with feigned annoyance.

?"You certainly know how to say things that catch people off guard, don’t you?" Aria muttered, though her tone lacked its previous bite. Despite the verbal counter, she stepped closer, reaching out with a practiced familiarity to adjust the collar of my shirt.

?"Still, you look entirely undernourished. Did you actually eat a proper meal today, or are you running on those chemical blocks again?"

?Those sorts of questions are what have been coming out of everyone’s mouths this morning.

?"Still better than drywall calculations, I guess," I said.

?"..." Aria looked at me in confusion, while in response I tilted my head slightly like a curious cat.

?"Vance, what are you teaching this sweet, innocent kid?" Arisawa-san voiced out, staring daggers at Dr. Vance.

?"...It wasn’t even my fault." Dr. Vance seemed to fold immediately.

?"My biological parameters are stable," I replied, stepping back just enough to break physical contact without causing friction.

?I shifted my focus back to Dr. Vance, who was watching the exchange with a nervous, amused grin. "Dr. Vance. Your personal communication frequency."

?Vance blinked, surprised by the direct pivot, before pulling up his terminal slate. "Oh? Want to stay in touch, do you? Sure, punch it in here."

?He handed over the device, and I swiftly logged my secure node identifier before handing it back. With a final nod to the group, I turned and strode toward the main descending elevator.

?The ride down to the subterranean ground bay was silent, broken only by the low magnetic hum of the shaft. When the doors chimed open, I stepped out into the cavernous concrete bay.

?The matte-black G-Wagon was gone.

?I scanned the perimeter. Blackhawk’s usual parking slot was empty. Nearby, a pair of junior technicians were packing diagnostic gear into a supply crate.

?"Where is the vehicle designated for extraction?" I asked, walking over with measured steps.

?One of the technicians looked up, wiping grease from his thumb. "Oh, Blackhawk? He got a priority recall message about twenty minutes ago. Had to take another transport to handle some high-level security containment issue topside. Said you were cleared to exit via the secondary transit grid."

?"Understood," I said.

?I turned and walked past the automated security gates, exiting the subterranean facility directly into the cooling amber glow of the late afternoon avenue. The pedestrian current flowed around me in a dense, hurried rush, a chaotic symphony of hurried footsteps and low chatter.

?Within three steps, my optical sensors registered the anomaly.

?Trailing fifty meters behind, moving with a disciplined, synchronized stride through the pedestrian crowd, were three fully grown, heavily muscled men in civilian jackets. Their postures were too rigid, their scanning patterns too deliberate to belong to ordinary citizens. They were maintaining a strict triangulation formation, boxing in my blind spots.

?I didn’t break stride. My facial expression remained entirely flat, half-lidded eyes fixed straight ahead.

?They are trailing manually because digital tracking failed inside the perimeter.

?Smoothly, without any sudden shifts in velocity or posture, I altered my trajectory, steering directly into a narrow, shadowed commercial alleyway that cut between two high-rise complexes. The foot traffic thinned instantly, replaced by the damp smell of urban runoff and towering brick walls.

?As I stepped deeper into the secluded corridor, I pulled my portable node from my pocket with one hand.

?My fingers moved swiftly across the interface, drafting a direct message to Dr. Vance’s email.

?To: Vance, Dr.

Location Data: Attached [Sector 4 Sub-Alleyway Grid C]

Message: Send facility security forces to this exact coordinate immediately. Multiple unauthorized tailing units detected.

?I hit send, locked the screen, and slipped the device back into my pocket just as the heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the entrance of the alley behind me.

------------

"Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat."

-----------