Chapter 60: Something That Cannot Be Priced (２)

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Phobia.

The feminine form of Phobos, who in Greek mythology is the god of defeat and flight.

Deimos is the god of terror. The two gods, Phobos and Deimos, are sons of the war god, symbolizing the fear of war and defeat.

Did Phobia and Deimos choose their own names, I wonder, or are they some kind of stage names? And what’s the relationship between the two of them?

Before even considering their relationship, I can’t even get a read on their ages. There’s a lot I’m curious about, but there’s no way to find out. And it’d be awkward to ask.

Phobia handed me a bottle of wine. She must have brought two in case I didn’t drink. I accepted the bottle.

Phobia and Deimos pulled out bottles from somewhere and started pouring drinks for themselves. I don’t know wine, so I have no idea how much it costs.

“It’s a Romanée-Conti. Sorry, this one isn’t anything special—only about ten million won. If you give me the chance, I’ll bring something better…”

“Ah, I see.”

Phobia laughed.

“See, once you have a drink in you, everything’s better. Um, what was it—what was I saying?”

“You were telling me how much the wine costs.”

“Sorry. That pocket change isn’t what matters right now. If you have any anomalies to dispose of, or need any, feel free to contact us anytime.”

How much money do these company people have?

Judging by their spending habits, anything below the hundred-million mark doesn’t even register as money to them.

Meanwhile I can’t even bring myself to buy Häagen-Dazs at the convenience store these days. Though that’s more out of old habit than actual poverty.

“Understood.”

“Or, even if you just need something—anything—contact us. Like I said before, whatever money can buy, we’ll prepare it for you.”

I nodded.

Phobia slid a small booklet across the table toward me. I opened it. It was a catalog of the anomalies Pluto LLC currently had for sale.

“Oh ho.”

Phobia wore an arrogant smile.

“I hate to sound like I’m bragging, but this catalog isn’t something we hand out to just anyone. Other clients never even get to see a list like this. Usually they just buy whatever we tell them we’re selling.”

I skimmed the list briefly.

This is a rip-off. These lunatics—selling anomalies for fifty billion won apiece? They’re counting in units of ten billion like it’s nothing.

That’s not an amount I can afford. Even if the Foundation has money, the budget allocated to my facility doesn’t exceed tens of trillions a year.

There’s no way I could siphon off hundreds of billions—trillions, even—from Facility 82’s modest budget to buy anomalies.

Doesn’t that mean I can’t even qualify as a customer?

“If buying is difficult, you could always sell. If selling anomalies feels like too much, overtech items work too. Ah, but ordinary goods won’t do. Those don’t have enough added value.”

I let out a small sigh.

So this is the real intention.

“Whether you’d like payment in a Foundation account, the Director’s personal account, or in-kind trade, it doesn’t matter.”

“I appreciate the offer.”

I tried to rise from my seat, but Phobia hastily reached out and stopped me.

“Just a moment. Try flipping to the very back of the booklet. There might be something that catches your eye…”

I flipped to the back of the booklet.

“Whoa, holy shit.”

At the very back of the booklet…

There was a list of anomalous humans for sale.

“I know it looks strange, but there’s no need to worry. Even though we buy and sell anomalous humans, it’s all very humane. We wouldn’t do anything the Foundation wouldn’t do.”

“Anything the Foundation wouldn’t do.” I’m not sure there’s anything the Foundation wouldn’t do, as long as the objective is clear. But when she puts it that way, I have nothing to say.

“The amounts are large, true, but the service is just as solid. We provided plenty of materials for the Blue Rose, didn’t we?”

There it is again—Project Blue Rose. Am I the only one who doesn’t know what that is?

“Just think of us as an outside contractor. We’re only handling part of the work the Foundation would do anyway. If the Foundation doesn’t buy them… well, we can’t say where they’d end up, can we?”

“As I said, we don’t have the money to buy anomalies at these prices.”

Phobia wore a salesperson’s smile.

“Sell *us* anomalies or high-tech goods, then. We’re no highway robbers. We bought them at a high price, so we sell them at a high price. That’s all.”

“Hmm…”

“Think about it. If you can sell a bunch of miscellaneous anomalies to buy a humanoid anomaly, isn’t that good for you, Director, and for the Foundation alike?”

I’m already tired.

They’re no ordinary opponents. We’ve only talked for ten minutes. I think I can see why they’ve survived this long, why they hold this much power.

I took a ballpoint pen from my inner pocket and tossed it to Phobia. That anomalous pen—the one that can’t be lost and never runs out of ink.

“How much would you give me for this? A pen that can’t be lost and never runs out of ink.”

Phobia thought for a moment.

“Being generous, I’d say one billion. Whatever else it is, it’s still a pen, so I can’t go higher than that.”

This… I’m at a loss.

“You must be busy, Director, so we’ll take our leave. If you ever need our services, contact us anytime. We’ll be standing by.”

The man who’d been silent all along—Deimos—finally spoke as they were leaving.

“Good work, Director Geum.”

Phobia and Deimos left the hotel lounge. I just stared at the wine bottle sitting on the innocent table. This really isn’t going anywhere.

***

As I sat in the hotel lounge spacing out, Nanami, who’d been standing guard outside the lounge door, came in.

She sat down in the spot where Phobia had been.

“Dr. Geum. You look troubled.”

“I heard a really shitty proposal.”

I showed Nanami the back of the brochure. Her expression didn’t change, but she did let out a small *tch*.

“We can’t raid the prison of people we don’t even know where they are, and even if we did, there’s the fallout to deal with. And it’s not like we have the money to pay them a ransom anyway.”

“Right.”

“Let’s just mention it to Foundation HQ and move on.”

Maybe hundreds of billions mean nothing to HQ. I rubbed my eyes. Nanami looked at the bottle I’d been glaring at.

“Expensive wine. Can I drink it?”

“I don’t know. Not sure it’s trustworthy.”

Nanami got up from her seat.

***

Compared to the time and effort invested, the meeting with the Pluto LLC people yielded little. If anything, it left a bad taste.

I don’t have the means to pay that kind of money, and I can’t just stand by while some lunatics buy and sell anomalous humans.

And it’s not like elimination is an option either.

How are we supposed to catch a hundred people scattered across the entire world? Even if we did eliminate them successfully, the global economy would collapse as the price.

“Let’s head back.”

Troublesome bastards, in every way.

For now, let me put it out of my mind. There’s nothing I can do at the moment. Turning the Foundation into a money-making machine under the guise of buying anomalies doesn’t sit right either.

It’s a problem that needs some thought. Rather than that, let’s focus on what I can do right now. I need to meet the new employees first.

“Dr. Geum! You left your wine bottle behind!”

A hotel staff member came running after me.

“Ah, that… Consider it a tip. Keep it.”

I know it’s good liquor, but I didn’t really feel like drinking it. The wine Phobia and Deimos had been drinking. No particular reason, but it just felt unpleasant.

I boarded the helicopter with Nanami. The rotor began to turn slowly. Those two—I get the feeling today won’t be the last I see of them.

***

[Group of Interest Encounter Report]

[Filed by: Acting Director Geumbari]

[Group of Interest Encountered: Pluto LLC]

[Today we came face to face with two employees of Pluto LLC. The terms the company’s employees presented to us were simple.]

[They proposed selling minor artifacts for tens of billions, major artifacts for hundreds of billions, and humanoid anomalies for thousands of billions.]

[Of course, this is not an amount that can be resolved within Facility 82’s budget. For now, we returned without a solution.]

[Elimination and recovery were considered as primary options, but elimination doesn’t seem feasible, and even if it were, we’re concerned about the impact on our relationship with the Group of Interest.]

[For now, the catalog they presented has been sent to Foundation Headquarters.]

[Foundation Headquarters will determine whether these anomalies are worth securing at that price, or whether they’re worth attempting recovery by force.]

[If I may record a personal opinion, this all feels like a waste of resources.]

[They operate mostly behind the Veil of Ignorance, and since they haven’t committed any egregious atrocities, openly moving to eliminate them would be awkward.]

[It’s not like they’re holding onto any particularly remarkable anomalies, either. Nor are they meaningfully obstructing Foundation activities.]

[In any case, Facility 82 will not be spending time and money hunting them. If problems arise, we’ll revisit this.]