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Chapter 60: Chapter 60: Neutralization

Mataguchi’s monologue, POV

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?The final attacker woke up from his knockout, pressing his back hard against the damp brick wall, his chest heaving in rapid, shallow gasps. He stared in paralyzed terror, his gaze flicking downward to the crimson blood dripping steadily from the center of my left palm where the blade had pierced through.

?He didn’t speak. The sheer shock of the retaliation had completely shattered his composure; they were too terrified to utter a single word.

?"I am injured," I stated, my tone entirely flat, clinical, and devoid of any fluctuation. "Do you comprehend the operational implications of that fact?"

?The men struggling on the pavement groaned, clutching broken limbs and bruised ribs. The realization hung heavily in the confined space of the alley.

?I reviewed the contextual data gathered over the past moments. They had addressed me as "AI"—a moniker exclusively used within the secure walls of the research facility. Yet, when I recalled the interactions with the personnel earlier—Dr. Arisawa, Aria, and the others—their behavioral anomalies had lacked the direct, sharp malice required for an active assassination or framing attempt.

?Misdirection.

?The pieces clicked into place. I stated it aloud, my voice cutting through the heavy silence.

?"I am aware of your original objective. The intent was not merely to tail me, but to engineer a scenario designed to frame me."

?One of the men trembling against the wall squeezed his eyes shut, his voice cracking with panic as he desperately tried to deny it. "W-What are you talking about? You’re out of your mind—we don’t know anything about framing—"

?"The operational flaw in your execution is self-evident," I interrupted, my half-lidded eyes fixing flatly on him. "The operative I neutralized moments ago was not aiming for my vital organs from a blind spot; his trajectory was calibrated to force a predictable defensive counter. I purposely allowed him to drive the blade through my hand."

?"In other words, he intended to make his own injury look like an assault committed by me... by stabbing himself," I paused for a brief moment before adding, "but this happened."

?I raised my left palm, the torn flesh and wet crimson stark against my skin.

?"By doing so, the physical evidence of an unprovoked assault within public limits has shifted entirely onto your collective liability. You are currently situated in a severely compromised legal and physical position."

?Panic surged through the remaining conscious enforcer. The one who had tried to stab me earlier choked out a sob, his legs trembling as he tried to push off the wall and scramble backward toward the mouth of the alley.

?"Stay stationary," I commanded, my monotone freezing him in place. "Escaping? You should know that’s not possible in your condition. Furthermore, the individual who orchestrated this directive originates from the exact research facility I departed ten minutes ago."

?The man froze, the color draining entirely from his face. The accuracy of my deduction confirmed their total exposure; they were completely cornered.

?Without breaking eye contact, I extended my right hand toward the trembling operative who had first attempted to flee and argued defensively earlier.

?"Your communication device. Surrender it."

?He didn’t hesitate. Shaking violently, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a sleek encrypted smartphone, and thrust it forward, his thumb automatically pressing the biometric scanner to leave it fully unlocked.

?I snatched the device from his grip with my uninjured hand.

?Is that how it is? Seriously?

?A quick sweep of the messaging and financial logs revealed zero digital footprint. No transfer records, no network history, no proxy breadcrumbs. The contract had been established entirely through physical meetings and cash reserves—deliberately isolated to maintain plausible deniability for the mastermind.

?The earlier behavior of the researchers flashed in my mind. The strange distractions in the corridor—they had all served as coordinated misdirections to buy time for this ambush.

?And the core objective of the planner?

?From the suspicious actions of the researchers, they were attempting to leverage my classified relationship with Suzanne. That precise realization was why I had explicitly refused to let Suzanne linger or escort me further; any formal association recorded during an active breach would have been weaponized against her security clearance.

?Jealousy and institutional hatred. A personal vendetta masquerading as a corporate security initiative.

?What a stupid reason to do this, at least it’s still better than drywall calculations.

?I guess.

?Wait, I just remembered Arisawa-san reacted weirdly when I said that. Is it unpleasant?

?With my thumb tapping the screen of the captured phone, I placed an outgoing call to Blackhawk.

?The line rang with a hollow, rhythmic tone for several seconds before the secure channel clicked open. A heavy, frustrated sigh echoed from the earpiece.

?"What is it now, AI?" Blackhawk’s gravelly voice rumbled, clearly occupied with whatever containment crisis he had been pulled away for. "I’m tied up with perimeter security topside. Make it fast."

?"Before your forced extraction earlier," I stated evenly, ignoring the pain in my palm, "who specifically issued the directive recalling you from the subterranean bay?"

?Blackhawk grunted, sounding confused by the line of questioning. "Why are you asking about that? It was a priority administrative override... came down from sector command under a Dr. Kaelen. Look, kid, I don’t have time to play twenty questions—"

?I terminated the call before he could finish. A name I was entirely unfamiliar with, yet deeply embedded in the upper administrative tiers.

?How the actual hell do I not know him?

?Before I could process the new variable, the heavy sound of approaching boots echoed from the main avenue.

?Dr. Vance burst into the alleyway, flanked by three heavily armored facility security officers. Vance’s face was flushed with genuine panic and urgency, his eyes darting immediately to the bleeding enforcers scattered across the pavement and the blood dripping from my hand.

?"Mataguchi!" Vance shouted, rushing forward past the security guards. He grabbed my shoulders, his expression twisting in absolute shock and worry as he stared down at my pierced palm.

?"Damn it, kid! What the hell happened here? Are you out of your mind—get these officers to lock this entire grid down now!"

?The security officers surged past Vance, immediately pinning the remaining conscious enforcers face-first into the asphalt, securing the perimeter with practiced, heavy-handed efficiency.

?I stood unfazed amidst the chaos, my half-lidded eyes reflecting the harsh glow of the security flashlights.

?The sterile scent of antiseptic and clean gauze filled the interior of the matte-black G-Wagon.

?My left palm was wrapped tightly in heavy white medical bandages, dampening the sharp, localized throb of the wound where the tactical blade had pierced completely through. The vehicle hummed with a low, smooth vibration as it cut through the dense evening traffic of the metropolis, heading away from the research facility.

?In the driver’s seat, Blackhawk kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his broad shoulders tensed under his tailored midnight-black suit. A quiet sigh escaped him as he glanced briefly toward the passenger side via the rearview mirror.

?"You’re awfully quiet, AI," Blackhawk said, his low, gravelly voice carrying a faint edge of lingering irritation. He paused, his gaze dropping momentarily to the white bandages wrapped around my hand. "Is your hand actually going to function properly after a stunt like that? You let a guy drive a knife right through your flesh."

?It was obvious he was more angry at himself for not being able to help when it happened.

?I offered a single, measured nod. "Cellular regeneration and localized tissue repair will proceed within normal human parameters. The functional capacity of the hand remains unimpaired."

?"Normal human parameters..." Blackhawk let out a dry, nasal chuckle, shaking his head. "Right. Remind me never to get into a physical disagreement with you."

?As he turned his attention back to the steering wheel, a soft chime vibrated from my pocket. I pulled out my smartphone with my right hand and unlocked the screen.

?A message from Dr. Vance had just come through, sent as a reply to my previous email message.

?From: Vance, Dr.

Message: Checked with the research team like you asked. Inquired about where that rumor regarding your schedule originated. Nobody wanted to risk touching Suzanne’s name directly—too much administrative fallout. But when I pressed them on who had been quietly planting the narrative, the trail led straight to Dr. Kaelen. Exactly the name you were looking for.

?I locked the screen, my half-lidded eyes reflecting the dim glow of the dashboard.

?The deductive process had been straightforward. No one within the institutional hierarchy would dare openly circulate rumors involving Mrs. Suzanne’s name due to the extreme security risks and the severe Lex Veritas protocols governing executive clearance. Therefore, when the narrative had been manipulated into a personal rumor born of jealousy and hatred, it required a high-ranking insider to plant and cultivate it.

?Dr. Kaelen.

?The architect behind the physical ambush, operating out of personal animosity, attempting to leverage my classified connection to Suzanne to compromise my standing.

?What a waste. Don’t people have something better to do?

?I paused into realization; this wasn’t how I normally reacted in these circumstances. Is this an infection from the people around me?

?My digital footprint for the incident had been rendered completely untraceable through automated proxy routing. However, because Kaelen had lacked sufficient time to thoroughly scrub his own internal communications before my arrival at the facility, tracing the operational directives back to his terminal had proved remarkably efficient.

?The steady, rhythmic motion of the G-Wagon gliding through the asphalt avenues began to weigh heavily on my optical sensors. The accumulation of physiological stress from the physical altercation and the subsequent data extraction caught up with my nervous system.

?Slowly, my eyelids drifted downward. The ambient roar of the city outside faded into a distant, muffled hum, and I allowed my body to slip into a deep, silent sleep as the vehicle continued moving forward into the night.

?Beside me, Blackhawk glanced over. Seeing my steady posture and closed eyes, a faint trace of genuine, unmasked concern crossed his hardened features.

?He lowered his voice, muttering quietly to himself in the dim cabin.

?"I still don’t understand a single thing about how your mind works, kid... but stop pushing yourself so hard."

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"A failure is not always a mistake, it may simply be the best one can do under the circumstances. The real mistake is to stop trying."

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