BATTER 1

In truth, unlike some forms of narcissism, human emotions are nothing more than the result of signaling substances secreted by nerve cells. Therefore, human emotions and thoughts cannot exist on their own in any corner of the mind, and they are not much different from the programming inputted into an artificial intelligence that has been scorned for the past century.

One cannot deny the fact that the tears and laughter displayed by a well-trained artificial intelligence are nothing more than what it has been taught, a mere result of coding.

However, humanity itself realized long ago that the spontaneous laughter and catecholaminergic tears of an organic human are not entirely trustworthy either—that humans, in fact, have only learned how to cry and laugh appropriately at the right moments.

Is protein skin sprouting body hair more reliable than a silicon shell? Are the five types of ocular smooth muscles more trustworthy than a lens aperture crafted from glass and resin? What guarantees the authenticity of the soul?

In the silence, the human stares into the machine’s blue eyes. An identifiable electromagnetic soul is there. It flickers with a unique blue color, leaving an afterimage in the brain. This blue uniqueness does not originate from being an organic life form or not. It stems from a much more complex mechanism. Therefore, this very moment may have already been decided in the past. Facing the predetermined outcome, the human laughed.

“I hate you, too. You abandon me every time I feel like I might be falling in love.”

“I hate you, too.”

The machine stands on its tiptoes. It was to observe the human from a closer distance. After careful observation and recording, the machine smiled.

“Because you are my error.”

An error destroys a machine. Therefore, he is an error. He functions as a fatal error.

Soon, three gunshots ring out.

✟

Those who had the makings to become kings left for Mars, and the humans who could not even become their retainers remained on Earth. This pale blue dot has been shining particularly blue in recent centuries.

According to textbooks rewritten by scientists, 80 percent of the Earth is now ocean, and 16 percent is complete desert. On the remaining 4 percent, 20,040,000 square kilometers of land, live the terrestrial creatures and liminal species that have not yet gone extinct, creating their own Eden with the scientific technology obtained at the cost of their homeland’s greenery.

And here is a man who reigns as king of the neon sign grasslands. Though he is currently being chased by hunters, he thought of himself as a king. That is why, even while in hiding, he could high-spiritedly lead his other kin and enjoy a fine drinking party.

Real alcohol that has gone through an aging process, not the chemical liquor that laborers drink. Beside that arrogant man stands a subordinate who looks about ten years older than him.

“Paul, come here.”

The man gestured arrogantly to his subordinate. The subordinate, who had soft brown hair, was quick on the uptake. As soon as the man’s words were out, the subordinate took out one of the cigarettes he favored and lightly held it with his lips. He sucked in his breath so as not to dare get saliva on it and lit the cigarette.

The man takes a satisfying drag from the cigarette. In an instant, half of its body withered into ash. A thick, milky-white fog rose from the young man’s parted lips. He looked at his subordinate’s eyes through the slightly bluish smoke. A bright hazel iris, shining silently on the other side of the slow, thick-rising smoke. The man likes those eyes very much. For a rather gruesome reason.

The man is a gangster who oversees the entertainment establishments on the outskirts of the city. Three years ago, on the day he turned exactly thirty, he stabbed the boss he had been serving to succeed his position. It is the traditional way. And this man is on the verge of succumbing in the traditional way. Someone betrayed the organization, and the pressure between the man and law enforcement, which had been in a strange balance, was disturbed.

Son of a bitch. Laughable for someone with titles like king and boss, the man had yet to ferret out the traitor. He caught a few conspicuous guys, but it was only to make an example of them, and it wasn’t very satisfying. That rat-like bastard. If I catch him, I’ll pull out his tongue and tie it into a necktie.

Repeatedly imagining revenge and punishment, the man took a deep final breath. As he sat, his eyes rolled to see his subordinate’s impassive profile. A well-groomed appearance, yet with an aged quality settled in like a fissure. For some reason, the man felt a sense of satisfaction when he looked at that tired-looking face. He blew the smoke lingering inside his respiratory tract onto his subordinate’s cheek.

“Paul.”

“Speak, Boss.”

“I was thinking, your job must be tedious and annoying for you, too. Having to wait on a kid who’s so much younger.”

“Not at all, Boss.”

“Still, you must have thought that at least once, right?”

“Not at all, Boss.”

“You’re no fun.”

The man lightly tapped his subordinate’s cheek with the back of his hand. The skin clinging to his prominent knuckles felt cool. The man continued speaking with a low laugh.

“Tell me honestly. Honestly.”

“Honestly…”

The subordinate’s face was expressionless, but he was obediently following his superior’s orders. His subordinate was far from cunning. After agonizing for a long time, his face revealing all his deliberation, he answered as if in pain.

“Please do not say such things. Whether I feel bored is not important. What is important is whether you, Boss, grow tired of me.”

At those words, the man laughed loudly. It was the first time since the appearance of the nameless traitor. He laughed for quite a long while, and as his laughter subsided, he narrowed his eyes and said.

“You’ve grown up. Giving me orders on what to say and what not to say.”

“I apologize.”

The subordinate immediately bowed his head. As he bowed, bringing it closer, the firm nape of his subordinate’s neck gave off a faint scent of the same cologne as him. A bittersweet fragrance mixing iris root and vanilla. The same scent wafted from the boss’s wrist, where he wore a heavy metal watch.

The man could not hide his smile even as he stubbed out the cigarette, now just a butt, in the ashtray. Just as he was about to say something in response to his subordinate’s apology, one of his underlings, his face pale blue, burst into the room as if he had run in. The man panted as he reported.

“You need to get out of here, Boss! The police have swarmed the floor below.”

In an instant, the atmosphere tenses. Only the man maintained his composure, rising from his seat and giving orders.

“You guys stop them from coming up any further. I’m leaving first.”

“Yes, Boss!”

The men who had been standing in a line like chess pieces rushed out. The metal weapons in each of their hands glinted like flashes of light. Instead of following them out, the subordinate fumbled around a flat wall. He lifted a silk scroll, found a handle, and pulled, revealing a cool, secret passage.

The banquet hall where they were located, at a glance, looked like several rooms sharing one long corridor, but if one opened the oriental-style paper sliding doors that looked like walls, they led to countless rooms and corridors. It was a fact known only to the banquet hall’s managers and some of the guests.

By navigating the maze-like, multi-branched corridors in the correct way, one could reach the exit. By now, a car that had received a summons order would be waiting for him at the designated location. Traitors and police would never know that location, not even if they died trying. The man quickened his pace, thinking of the fools who would be bursting with frustration at not being able to catch the king himself. The cold shadows of the corridor swiftly brushed past the man’s cheeks.

The exit of the passage was quiet. Only a familiar sedan was waiting for him. The door opened on its own, and the man and his subordinate boarded the car in turn. The car rose and started off smoothly and silently, and the man, sitting in the seat of honor, leaned his head diagonally against the glass window.

The aerial roads that ran alongside the midsections of tall buildings were brilliant even at night. On the faces of the pale buildings, huge holographic models tempted the citizens with ever-changing poses and slogans.

<Just like real clean-farmed meat! Enjoy it simply at home. CindyBeef Steak.>

As the car picked up speed, the holographic housewife and the artificial steak also disappeared into the distance. The man, still leaning, sneered.

“It feels like everything is leaving. Is this the end of a three-year reign?”

The bitterness of iris root was imbued in his smiling lips. The man, who had been leaning against the window, slowly turned his gaze to the opposite side. From the front, to the left… toward the subordinate sitting next to him.

“Hey, Paul.”

The subordinate, who had been staring straight ahead with his fists on his knees, turned his head. The subordinate’s face, consumed by darkness like a black veil. The area under his eyes shone pale like a phase of the moon. The car, which had learned to self-drive and fly long ago, did not shake or make noise, and everything was as smooth and quiet as a carpet. The man savored the silence, unbefitting of a night on the run, for a long time.

The man was born and raised amidst noise and chaos. His parents had vanished forever in that chaos. Perhaps, befitting a child of theirs, just as when he was born, he might retrace the umbilical cord back to where he came from and disappear forever in a brilliant flash, amidst a deafening roar.

In this damn world, everything changed too quickly. The mountains, the seas, the kings. Now, it might be time for the king to change. The man asked his subordinate.

“Will you leave, too?”

The subordinate just stared silently, not answering. The man feels a weight hanging from the very tip of his ribcage, on the inside of his chest. A cruel and fateful weight, the kind that might be attached to the chairs witches sat in during the Dark Ages. The man continued.

“If you’re going to leave, now’s the time. I’ll give you a rare opportunity.”

But the subordinate still only looks at the man. His hazel eyes, their lids barely moving. Yes, those eyes. The man liked those eyes. Because they resembled the eyes of a certain man buried in the fires of war. In truth, he barely even remembers them anymore…

So, with time, he would even forget what impression this subordinate’s eyes gave. Everything, whether material or immaterial, is bound to decay or be destroyed. So if you’re going to disappear, then disappear. If you’re going to leave, then leave.

“Get the hell out if you’re going to get out. But if you don’t leave now…”

But he could only do so when he permitted it.

“You and I are together for life.”

The man reached out his hand. And he took his subordinate’s hand. It was a large, solid hand. Even as he gripped it as if to completely break it, his voice was a faint whisper.

“With me for life…”

“Boss.”

A tremor ran through his clenched hand, perhaps from applying too much force. The subordinate interlocked his fingers with the man’s hand, where the tendons were pulled taut, and slowly pushed it against the car wall. The subordinate leaned in so close their sharp noses brushed. A hot, deep breath touched his upper lip.

The quiet subordinate knew well how to answer without using words. Dry lips carefully pressed against and licked the man’s lips. Both tasted a slight fishiness and saltiness. The man’s chest and shoulders swelled, becoming as hard as they did when he fought. The kiss was not very long. At the end of the impatiently short kiss, the subordinate whispered.

“That kind of talk…”

The subordinate’s grip on the man’s wrist tightened. And.

“We can continue at the station.”

Click. A handcuff was locked onto the man’s hand. While he was frozen, the subordinate secured the other cuff to the assist grab above the car window and then fired a series of bullets into the main screen of the self-driving car. The autonomous driving AI recited a warning message in a gentle but firm voice, and the man realized the betrayal.

The man whipped out the pistol from his chest. But the man had cherished and loved his subordinate for his competence. The subordinate was competent to the very end.

With his left hand, the subordinate kept shooting bullets until the car stopped, while with his other hand, he broke the man’s wrist. A short scream. The pistol fell to the floor, and the car slowly descended to the ground.

—Emergency situation has occurred. Halting the vehicle immediately. All doors will open. Halting the vehicle immediately. All doors will open.

The car, which had been flying along the aerial road, slowly touched the ground. A few seconds later, the doors on all sides opened with a clatter. When everything was settled, the subordinate stood on the ashen ground, stretching his large body. He even took the time to enjoy a leisurely stretch, then contacted someone with an attitude so nonchalant it felt delinquent.

“This is 88. I’ve caught the lion. Just sent the coordinates, requesting backup ASAP. And a cheeseburger on your way.”

And then, the subordinate suddenly turned back to look at the man.

“You want a late-night snack?”

The man did not reply. The subordinate just shrugged once, then crossed his legs cockily and sat down on the seat beside him. The subordinate—that is, ‘88’, who had probably been his subordinate for a very brief time—ruffled his gel-set hair like a dog and let out a relaxed sigh. The man had never once seen his subordinate make such an expression.

The subordinate, his bangs hanging in clumps, rummaged inside his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. With a lighter in front of him, his cheeks hollowed, and the cigarette lit. Instead of smoking it himself, he placed the cigarette directly between the lips of the man who had been his boss for the past few months. A thin trail of smoke rose like a dream. But the acrid taste and smell were too vivid to escape into a dream.

Nicotine, damaged muscles and bones. Decayed and destroyed…

Beyond the thick sense of reality, the subordinate, Paul, 88, grinned slyly.

“You can finish that cigarette while you wait, so you don’t get bored.”

Paul does not laugh like that. From the tips of his extremities to his very core, his heart, he freezes in an instant. Perhaps because of the fracture in his wrist, or perhaps because of the completely unexpected reality, the boss stuttered without realizing it.