Sniffing

~~~🔓~~~

Thank Father, smoking areas still existed. Several of these points were spread around the Anima complex—small outdoor terraces surrounded by opaque glass and synthetic tiles. Little metal benches and tables filled the space, along with the traditional information screens, all meant to give workers a moment of relaxation.

I got lucky and found the place empty, free from any smokers whose noxious smoke might bother me as I lit up.

“Give me light,” I spoke delusionally to my lighter while igniting a cigarette.

Don’t think what I said didn’t make sense. I was smoking, yes, but blue tobacco. You know, one of the Anima’s first major innovations: cigarettes that are neither harmful nor addictive. They were ideal for relaxing, though some people still clung to toxic tobacco, claiming the blue stuff lost the appeal—people I didn’t quite understand.

I took a long drag from my cig, then exhaled the white smoke in a wave of pleasure. I let myself sink onto one of the more secluded benches, nearly hidden among the bushes and glass panels.

“Seriously? I've only been here a week, and I’m already… exhausted. All of this… working at Anima Tech, being part of ‘the best of the best’… Was this really my dream?”

A slow, heavy sigh escaped me as I gazed at the sky, each thought echoing my doubts.

“Hours of paperwork, strict rules, being part of a system that doesn't let you breathe... this isn’t what I imagined.”

I lowered my gaze to the empty patio, now occupied only by a cleaning worker in his usual blue uniform and cap, with a modern semi-automatic mop cart. Even that was high-tech around here.

“A human cleaning floors instead of an Anima? Right here in the company that manufactures them? Damn, it seems I'm not the only one exploited here.”

Just a simple cleaning worker, and yet he symbolized so much more. He was a representation of a place that seemed state-of-the-art but still clung to old practices. I looked up to the sky again.

“What would you want me to do, Mom? I could stay and fight to change this, so no one has to suffer at their job. To believe in that society I longed for, the reason I joined here in the first place. But it’s exhausting. What if I can’t? Would you feel disappointed, wherever you are? Would Dad be disappointed?”

My eyes felt warm and damp. Reality had hit me in the face many times before, and the last thing I needed was another life lesson.

I searched for comfort nearby, hoping someone might notice my pain, but the scene remained the same. Just me and the cleaning worker, who caught my eye for a different reason. He had positioned himself in front of a glass door, the type that allowed only a blurry outline of movement on the other side, like vague shadows. Printed holographically in blue letters and frame on the door was a clear message: “Authorized personnel only.”

“Huh? Does he really not know only internal employees can go in there?”

The man seemed to be looking around with a mix of nervousness and calculation, as if he were assessing every corner before making his next move. His eyes darted quickly, and in an instant, his previously casual expression turned sharply resolute.

“Hah. Well, seems I’m not the only one having a rough…”

Before I could finish murmuring, the man made a swift movement, reaching for the card reader. The light flashed green, and the door opened quietly.

“..............WHAT???!!!”

I stared, stunned, as the man casually retrieved his cleaning cart as if it were nothing.

“No, no, wait. How can a cleaning employee have access there? Maybe he borrowed an access card to…”

The man started scanning his surroundings with quick eyes, his face serious from my vantage point.

That’s when it clicked, and I realized what was happening.

“That man shouldn’t be here.”

All sorts of movie scenes and fanciful tales flashed through my mind, and suddenly, everything made sense. He’s not a cleaning worker. My thoughts spun, linking to the espionage scenes I’d once thought exaggerated but now seemed all too real. The calculated movements, the guarded demeanor, access to a restricted door. I was facing someone with clearly hidden intentions. I saw it in his eyes, distant but carrying an unmistakable look, searching in my direction.

“Ah!”

I didn’t manage to crouch fully behind my seat, but the surrounding foliage and the bench’s hidden location shielded me from his view. After a few seconds, I peeked out and saw he had refocused on his cleaning cart.

“But if he’s not a cleaner… what does he want? Is he going to hurt someone? Is he about to steal? Or…”

My mind froze, seized by a single thought. Hacker.

Before I knew it, I had tossed my blue cigarette aside, and my legs were propelling me upright.

“That person might be trying to hack Anima Tech to steal data. The consequences could be catastrophic if he succeeds.”

The door had closed, but I kept moving towards it.

“Someone has to stop him. Wait… what if he’s armed? What if I’m in danger?”

Despite my doubts, I kept walking. Something was pushing me to do nothing but reach that door and follow his steps. I didn’t think to call anyone, or ask for help, or run away. Especially not to run away.

“No… I can defend myself. You didn’t train in tricking and parkour for nothing, Kaori. You didn’t learn to handle non-lethal weapons without reason, Kaori. You did all this to shine in a moment like this.”

I reached the door. The blue text “Authorized personnel only” indicated that not just anyone could enter.

But as a cybersecurity analyst, I was authorized personnel—at least for Level 1 areas.

I pulled out my outdated physical card and swiped it in the reader, blindly copying the infiltrator’s movement. Beep. It opened.

“I decided to join Anima to protect society. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Without considering any remote alternatives, I stepped inside and began to follow the “cleaning worker” through the interior of Anima Tech. A cat-and-mouse game between hacker and hacker.