The Sweeper Becomes the Far Future's Salaryman ~End~

Kuroiwa tapped a pen on the table while he examined the multi-page printed script laid out on the coffee table. The sunlight poured in from the outside, shining a light on the pages, while the weaker, blue light from deeper inside the room clashed right at the middle of the table. He was inside Bar Nirvana, with all the tables and chairs still lifted—only two hours left until opening time.

“Hmm. This script needs work. This looks awfully AI-generated,” he muttered to himself. “I think it needs less of this… and this.”

Yui watched him from the barista counter pensively. “Some nerve you have, hanging out in Nirvana just three months after you resigned.”

“Oh.” Kuroiwa jolted himself awake back to reality. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll leave before you open up shop. I don’t think Murai’s forgiven me just yet.”

“Yeah, you better. Last time you met him, you got blood all over the floor.”

Kuroiwa chuckled and smiled at her. “Again, my bad. I should be the one cleaning that up.”

“I am many things, but solicitor of free labor I am not.”

Kuroiwa’s phone rang. He pulled it out and answered it with a curt, “Hello? Kuroiwa from logistics here.”

Shiyuri spoke on the other line. “Sensei? Are you on the way yet? It’s almost time to clock out and we’ve nothing to show the boss. Is the script ready yet?”

“It’s done, yeah. Sei should be coming in any minute now. And also, why’s a guy in Logistics doing what you, someone in Marketing, should be doing?”

Shiyuri laughed apprehensively. “Good question! O-Oh, will you look at the time? See you, Sensei!” The girl on the other side then hung up.

Kuroiwa clicked his tongue.

Yui gestured at Kuroiwa and pointed her thumb towards the exit. Right on cue, the engine of a motorcycle revved just outside the door. Sei awaited outside with her steel steed, now dressed in a plain white overcoat and bandages bounding her bountiful chest, just like before. Kuroiwa packed his papers and pen into a compact briefcase and headed out the door. “Thanks for the drinks, Yui.” He bid the bartender a farewell as he rode at the back of Sei’s motorbike.

“The usual, Ser Kuroiwa?” Sei asked.

Kuroiwa held on firmly to her. “Yeah. Sorry to bother you for my commute.”

“It is fine! You have been awfully apologetic as of late. I am not quite used to it.”

He laughed it off. “Oh, yeah. You kinda get used to it when your manager’s a whip. But it’s cool, though. It’s mostly just new workplace jitters, I think.”

Sei revved the engine, ready to go. But she had one more thing she wanted to ask:

“Mayhaps you have overtime tonight?”

“Nah, I don’t.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to work overtime with me, instead?”

Kuroiwa chuckled. “Nah, sorry. I gotta come to work early tomorrow.”

“A shame.”

Sei raced off into the neon-lit streets of Neo Shibuya. Ultimately, things remained unchanged. Street violence ran rampant, populace apathy towards affairs of the nation still remained, and megacorp and government oversight still invaded every single facet of Neo Shibuyan life. The only difference was the absence of one specific threat—the terrorist named Nekolain.

Nekolain had somehow vanished into the night, never to return.

The scenery passed them by like a blurry photo taken with low shutter speed. Kuroiwa’s mind affixed on his work, meanwhile Sei’s heart was still opening for him all this while. The trip only took fifteen minutes, her heart had been beating for him for three months now.

Kuroiwa disembarked in front of a skyscraper fifty floors high, its shape like a giant longsword reflecting in the sunset light. It was strange at first waiting in its glassy, plain-looking lobby waiting for elevators that apparently don’t have buttons but are only called via cyberbrain interaction. Eventually however, they installed keycard controls for it, knowing that people like Kuroiwa and Daisuke now work in the building.

Indeed. Half the building was the property of the Neo Shibuyan Consultation Agency, one of the bigger mega-corporations in Neo Shibuya. A company that does everything beyond consultation for various things like real estate and law. It was part government at this point. Unknown to the general public, however, was its association with Colony Tau, and their glorious rebellion against Neo Shibuya’s status quo.

Kuroiwa worked in ‘Logistics’, but truth be told, everyone under Manager Shinada’s management did anything the company needed them to. For the glory of the revolution.

Disembarking the elevator on the 32nd floor, Kuroiwa headed for the office at the furthest end of the west hall. ‘Shinada’, the nameplate hanging on the door said. A silhouette of a short, young woman approached the door. She clicked the electronic lock open and pulled the door ajar.

“Oh! Kuroiwa, you’re here so soon!” Chigusa, still dressed as she was as a Code Reader, greeted Kuroiwa with a warm smile. She welcomed him in and followed him to a small office with a plethora of monitors and holograms floating sparingly across the place. Otherwise, the office was homely, just like Shinada’s back in the exile colony.

He walked into the rest area, and came upon an unsightly sight napping on the newly bought couch.

“Uhh, what’s she doing here?” Kurowia pointed at the sleeping Nanami.

“Oh, the boss hasn’t told you?” Chigusa pushed a finger to her chin. “Nanami’s going to be starring in our new commercial. Star power is much better than little ‘ol me.”

“That’s a shame. I kinda preferred you in it. You look spiffier, more professional.”

“Oh, but seeing idols in business suits is all the rage these days, you know?”

“Is it now…”

“The accounting role is a much better fit for me, anyway.”

Kuroiwa poked Nanami’s cheek hoping for a response, but there wasn’t any. She was as dead a doornail, but not quite dead, as she still drew breath. He would kick her awake, but Kuroiwa thought to just let sleeping dogs like. Or sleeping Nanamis.

“I guess it is what it is. I’ll leave her be. Hope she doesn’t drool on the cushion.”

Kuroiwa and Chigusa walked into Shinada's office just near the rest area. Inside was Shiyuri and the pupper having a friendly argument over the coffee machine, and the mystery of how its contents have mysteriously been emptied. They stop mid-conversation as the two entered the room. Shiyuri became nervous at the sight of the man from Logistics, beads of sweat racing down her cheeks.

“O-oh. Sensei. Howdy! Nice weather we’re having, huh?”

“Oh hello, Shiyuri from Marketing. Here’s a little gift from Logistics.”, he said, handing over the heavily corrected commercial script.

“Ah, my girl…” Shinada tapped on his table pensively. “Busy working on the script, you said? Suddenly your alibi of ‘I was busy’ makes no sense. Seems we’ve found the coffee thief.”

Shiyuri bowed in deep apology.

“I’m so sorry pop—I mean, boss. Please forgive my transgressions.”

The dog let out a big sigh. “It’s fine,” he said, turning his attention to the holographic graph on the wall nearby. It depicted a sales and growth graph of the company’s services and applications, showing a green line with a gradual but steady upward growth. “I’ll let you off the hook just this once. Not just you, but everyone’s worked hard in the last three months. At this rate…”

Chigusa beamed at Shinada. “If we keep it up ‘till the end of next year, we’ll finally get invited to the real Colony Tau, right?”

“Indeed. Which means…”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a rough and tough year.” Kuroiwa stood determined, ready to face the fiscal year. He wasn’t the best at his job yet, but opportunities to learn on-site were few and far between, even back in his era. But whatever it was, the man will put his best forward.

After all, he was nothing but the world’s greatest sweeper, turned to the far future’s salaryman.

But not quite.

A man in a mohawk, dressed in lavish and (probably) stolen jewelry and donning a spiked vest burst into the room toting a shotgun. “I finally got—”

Before the man could finish his sentence, Kuroiwa pointed his gun straight at his forehead, ready to shoot if he’d make the slightest movement. The lowlife froze in place, his grip on the gun weakening and his nerves shaken to their utmost core.

“What? Another hoodlum camping in the floor bathroom?” wondered the curious Chigusa.

Shinada leaned on his armrest and cockily looked the man in the eye. “I’ve no idea how you got in here, boy, but I believe you have business with us?”

Shiyuri crossed her arms and smiled haughtily. “I better check the building security next time. This city’s IT is useless without someone who knows its in and outs like I do.”

“Well? What’ve you got to say?” Kuroiwa pulled the hammer of his trusty revolver, ready to fire.

The man smiled nervously, thinking up of the best excuse he could make up in dire straits. And so, speak he did, shivering and stuttering all the way.

“T-t-then… I have a job and a request for the g-good people at NSCA…?”

“Good.” Kuroiwa smiled.

“Then you have a job for me.”

*****

A nameless boy cried on the sidewalk of 3 Chiba St, in the middle of a crowded day’s street. He faced a certain maple tree trapping his now fading AI holographic cat—a Cybercat, it was called.

“Somebody help! My Cybercat’s bugged out!”

It blinked in and out of existence like an exhausted lightbulb.

And when all of a sudden, all the pedestrians vanished from sight like magic, leaving only the boy and a woman clad in pink power armor approaching him. Her name was Sei, a lady said to have once belonged to the Security Knights, but was more of a free-spirited defender of justice. She laid her hands on the boy’s shoulders, offering comfort.

“My, my. Cry no longer, for I am here to help.”

Sei touched her temple and signaled for assistance from an unknown source.

“The Neo Shibuya Consultation is always here to help!”

A dark blue van drove up from the street corner and parked itself beside the boy and Sei. The AI idol Nanami, dressed exactly like the Code Reader known as Chigusa, walked up to the Cybercat. The Cybercat hopped into her arms. She then caressed it with her hand, and like sorcery, cured the creature of its ills, until it no longer faded from existence.

“Yer good to go!” the Code Reader said with great joy.

“Wooow! How did you do that?”

Nanami opened her palm to the boy, showing what seemed to be a golden chip designed to fix bugs in Neo Shibuyan technology.

“Well, if yer so inclined, the NSCA has just the technology for your everyday needs!”

The scene froze like a photo, while the film crew rushed to hand Nanami a microphone to speak into. The film crew was composed of none other than Kuroiwa and the real Chigusa, rushing to make sure Nanami’s part was covered.

“Oh yeah, right, this part is a voiceover.” she whispered.

Kuroiwa signaled her to shush, and Chigusa nodded. Both quickly exited the camera’s field of view. Nanami cleared her throat and began to speak.

“In the bustling heart of Neo Shibuya, a decade can pass in the blink of an eye,” she said with a chipper tune. “But a person can remain youthful and alive forevermore. And we, at the Neo Shibuya Consultation Agency, want to keep you safe and your loved ones too. Uhh…”

Kuroiwa facepalmed. He signaled her to look in his direction and into the placards Shiyuri held up for her, with hastily written lines straight from the script.

Nanami shook herself, gathering her nerves.

“Uploading and downloading your Ghost into the Data Centers comes with its own worries, but we work tirelessly to make sure your transference is safe and bug-free!”

The film crew hustled themselves back into position, and the Cybercat jumped back into Nanami’s arms. With a faint beeper, it signaled that filming had resumed.

Nanami, holding the cat, walked closer to the camera, while the child followed her closely to the side. Sei also took to the stage, walking to the opposite side of the boy.

“And with our new neural hotline, we can now solve your immediate problems live, without fee!”

The child beamed at Nanami. “Thank you, Security Knights and Neo Shibuya Consultation Agency!”

Every single personnel deployed on the scene, numbering in the low 20s, rushed from every angle and corner of the street and crossed their arms as they looked up to the camera—the same camera, now attached to a drone floating slowly into the air. Kuroiwa, Chigusa, Shiyuri, Sei, and even Shinada joined in this absurd group shot as they watched the drone fly.

Nanami also looked up and smiled. “Here in Neo Shibuya City, you deserve a healthy, limitless life. Secure your future today! Consult with the Neo Shibuya Consultation Agency anytime for free.

Because we don’t care.”

The rest of the crew stared daggers at Nanami in a long moment of awkward silence. And then Kuroiwa broke it.

“Oh come the hell on! You almost had it right! This is the ninth darn take.”

“Well sorry, I am incapable of being insincere.”

“That’s you, not—ugh.”

Chigusa laughed as she dispersed the rest of the NSCA crew—half of which were humans from Colony Tau posing as regular Neo Shibuya office workers. “From the top, everyone!” she said, clapping her hands. The crew collectively groaned, and so did Nanami as everyone returned to their starting positions.

Kuroiwa shrugged.

“And I guess I’m back to manning the cameras, again.”

Shiyuri laughed. “Oh dear, Sensei. It seems Logistics really do do everything around here. But don’t worry. Glory to the revolution, and all that jazz.”

Kuroiwa sighed the biggest he’s sighed in the past week of filming.

“That’s cool and all, but…

Give me some real work, please.”