“Well, as you likely know – since you have your arms – the interface that's attached to your brain stem acts as the middle man between your brain and your prosthetics,” Stephanie leans forward to begin her long explanation. “However, it's not just something so simple as just a couple of wires connecting the parts. It also has its own user interface that allows for easy customization. It receives constant compatibility and stability updates over the company's own secure network to ensure that it stays up-to-date all the time. Of course, some people prefer to keep those automatic updates off to prevent any mishaps, but that also closes them off from possibly improving their prosthetics easily later on.”

“So Billy's role was to maintain the condition of that network?” Atreus surmises the meaning of the lecture on his own.

She nods. “Yup. He was damn good at doing it, too. He pumped out top-of-the-line security-bolstering updates as easily as breathing. Every new version that released, he found and patched up exploits and holes as if he were paid per keystroke. He was really gifted at what he did – a true programming master.” Her melancholic gaze drifts downward toward the table, where it meets her cup. She decides to grab it and take an idle sip.

“Although I can imagine the answer already, I'll ask this for confirmation: is there any important data that's kept on the company's network that could be accessed from the outside?”

“Of course,” Stephanie replies bluntly. “All private networks for multi-billion dollar corporations have stuff worth trying to get access to – if you're a blackhat or something – and our company is no different.”

“So every augmented human being under the company's network can have their health information potentially compromised?”

“Theoretically, yes, but it's not like any old Joe Schmoe sitting at his computer would even know what to do with that information anyway. Peoples' nervous system functions, muscle performance, heart rate, sleep cycles – all that information is kept on their servers, and if you read the fine print of the contract you signed when you agreed to get those,” she points to his arms, “then you know all of this.”

“I'm afraid someone else had to sign that contract on my behalf due to my being in a coma at the time,” Atreus casually confesses the circumstances of what led to him receiving his synthetic limbs. “I do remember the whole thing causing a big stink in the media years ago and raising questions about patient privacy, though.”

“Since we're both probably thinking about it right now, I'll just say that I have a hard time believing that what happened to him was motivated by any sort of desire to access the information the network protects,” Stephanie succinctly explains her thoughts on the killer's possible intentions.

“Why's that?”

“Well, simply because anyone who wants the information can simply buy it from us. We already sell that stuff to a bunch of different tech companies, because it also provides data on things like what time of day certain people – or groups of people – are active during, when they go to bed, when they wake up; all that stuff is useful for market research.”

“Can't say I'm surprised,” Atreus hangs his head slightly and his eyes fall towards the table. “It's hard to live among technology and not get examined like some lab rat by the very devices you bought.”

“It's not exactly a well-kept secret,” she responds with a non-committal shrug. “It's just better to keep living your life not paying too much attention to that sort of thing or else you'll become paranoid.”

Personal information on consumers is the hottest commodity that can be traded between companies looking to make more money based on the private lives of normal people; knowing when, where, what, and how to advertise to you for maximum efficiency. Everyone knows this, even if it's not at the front of their minds at all times, but hearing confirmation come directly from the mouth of the personal secretary of the senior vice president of Atmos Dynamics leaves Atreus feeling conflicted.

They're a major corporation that has positively changed the lives of millions of people who have had their bodies irreparably damaged, yet the same information that's recorded from them that's meant to ensure continued support and good health is also sold to the highest bidder who may not have such good intentions in mind. He looks down at his alloy-covered hands and silently confesses to himself that, despite knowing that his body is a research tool now, he'd accept his synthetic limbs all over again.

“So,” Atreus continues, “what you're suggesting is: why go through the trouble of coming up with some plot to hurt Billy in order to retrieve that vast library of health information when you can just buy it legitimately?”

Stephanie nods again. “More or less. But, obviously, that's assuming he was... 'hurt' in order to weaken the network to begin with, because he really was single-handedly protecting everything on those servers. Speaking of which, are you... even sure it was something that was... premeditated?” she asks with some hesitance in her voice.

“We... have a pretty substantial amount of evidence suggesting that it was,” the gangster confirms without giving away any details.

“Oh, God...” the secretary, who had been mostly straight-faced until now, closes her eyes and furrows her brow for a brief moment, trying to fight back a sudden wave of emotion.

“Are you okay?”

“It's... hard,” Stephanie responds after a deep breath. “I've still been going into work ever since that night, and even though we were in different departments, I still pass by his office on the way to mine, and I've been looking through those big, glass walls, towards his desk, and he's just... not there. I don't understand why anyone would do such a thing to him, or how he could've possibly been wrapped up in something that led to this.”

“I don't have anything concrete, but from my perspective, and based on what I have at the moment, it just seems like he was mostly a victim of circumstance – placed in a bad predicament because he was good at his job. And... I do appreciate you meeting with me like this, especially on such short notice,” Atreus offers his condolences as much as he can in the current environment.

“If it helps you get any closer to finding out who did it, then I'll answer as many questions as you want,” she responds with a revitalized sense of resolve.

Atreus nods, wordlessly acknowledging her determination. “So, seeing as how you were close to him, have you ever met any of his friends?”

“Some of them, but mostly just the other guys in the network security department. He's spoken of other friends he sees on a semi-regular basis – like his college friends who are still in the area – but I never met them,” Stephanie explains with a shrug.

“Has he ever mentioned anyone named Edward? Perhaps some variation, like Ed or Eddie?”

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She narrows her eyes and tilts her head to try and recall the name. “It... doesn't ring a bell, unfortunately. Why? Who is he?”

“Just someone whom I think might've known Billy, but I don't really have anything to prove that,” Atreus gives a halfhearted response, disappointed that another attempt at finding a thread that connects Edward to Will Camlin becomes a dead end. “How about Billy, himself? Did you notice any sort of strange behavior on his part leading up to that night?”

“Well, starting about two weeks prior, he seemed to get a little preoccupied, like every time I tried to talk to him, he was thinking about something else. He also seemed to get less and less sleep as the days went on. He actually didn't come to work for the last three days leading up to his... passing. I just assumed he ended up coming down with the flu or something, which, honestly, was a bit odd in itself because until then, he had never missed a day of work. He probably had almost two months of vacation days saved up.”

“Did he ever explicitly state why he was so preoccupied?”

Stephanie shakes her head. “No, he didn't. I asked once, and he gave a pretty firm response that everything was fine, so I left it alone. I guess should've pressed harder, because it was very clear that everything wasn't fine. It even distracted him from his job, which was very, very rare.” After recalling all the telling signs that Will's life was uneasy in recent days, she heaves a sigh. “It seems so obvious that something extreme was up, now that I talk about it out loud. It makes me feel like I could've put more effort into helping him, and maybe he'd still be here.”

“I know it probably feels that way now, but if you had been insistent, you'd have probably been in just as much trouble as him, especially if the people who did this are a particularly powerful entity.”

“But who could they be?” she raises her voice slightly in frustration. “The only reason I could possibly think of for this, is that they wanted to keep the company's network weak enough to access its information, but what sort of person or group would want that information so desperately to begin with? Especially when it's already up for sale?”

“Personally, I think it's either people who can't afford it – which seems unlikely if they can afford such a clean hit on a person – or people who intend to use the information for very, very illegal activity.”

“A 'hit'... Christ,” Stephanie leans over her cup of remaining coffee, now room temperature, and hangs her head again as she repeats the word that stuck out to her the most. After a somber, meditative pause, she speaks again. “Billy was just... an introverted guy who loved working at his computer. He loved technology, cats, and Asian food, and he wouldn't dream of doing anything malicious to anybody. This isn't fair,” she gives her own small eulogy, remembering the fondest parts of Will that she liked the most.

Atreus feels a stab of guilt. He sympathizes with her, but feels that if he makes any attempt to console her, the words would ring hollow and hypocritical, as he's a member of a gang that regularly carries out hits of their own. Like Will, most of their victims are also people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Who knows how many loved ones were left by the Sanada-gumi to feel the way Stephanie does right now, or worse so? Not to mention, the only reason he's investigating this murder to begin with is because it potentially puts the clan in a position to lose a lot of money, not because they're seeking justice on behalf of Will.

“It's unfortunate how often normal citizens get caught up in things like this due to circumstance,” the gangster chooses his words carefully, but he doesn't know if he was careful enough. “Especially when it comes to possible corporate stuff like this, where they're caught in the crossfire simply because of their job.”

“I suppose you speak from experience?” Stephanie asks with both curiosity and veiled criticism.

He shakes his head. “Not first-hand.”

“Fair enough,” she concedes, despite looking unsure. “Is there anything else you want to ask?”

“Do you think the company's network is truly vulnerable without Billy there?”

“It's hard for me to say right now, since I don't work in network security,” Stephanie answers with another unsure shrug. “He hasn't been gone long enough for a layman like me to truly gauge how many holes are left in a newly-updated software without him to patch them up in only a few days. It could be Swiss cheese without Billy, for all I know. I'd be surprised though, because I'm always told our infrastructure rivals the government's in terms of sturdiness.”

“Is there a major update coming down anytime soon?”

“Can't say. It's usually the network department who decides the update schedule and sends it up to corporate for approval and certification.”

“Generally speaking, how often are major updates carried out?”

“About once a month. Last one was about two weeks before Billy stopped coming to work, so a new update might be coming relatively soon, but I can't guarantee it won't be delayed until a new security head is hired. It depends on the necessity of the update,” she gives another answer with little specificity, but it's enough to clue Atreus in on a potential motive.

“It's definitely starting to look more and more like he was dealt with in order for someone to access the network, but we still need to find out who did it and why.”

“I'm sorry if meeting with me only gave you more questions than answers. My programming knowledge is really limited – only coming from second-hand explanations from Billy himself.”

“No, this has been pretty enlightening. I feel at least a couple steps closer to figuring out why this all happened. I think it's safe to rule out the possibility that this was some sort of random mugging or something.”

“I don't suppose you have any idea on how far the police have gotten? Since they haven't talked to me yet, I don't really know what they're doing.”

“As far as I'm aware, they know about as much as I do.”

“Really?” Stephanie tilts her head, perplexed. “I figured they'd have gained momentum with more resources on their side.”

“That's what I thought, too,” Atreus reaches into his pant pocket to retrieve. his phone. “If it's not too much to ask, would you be willing to exchange numbers, just in case I need to contact you again?”

“Sure,” she responds immediately with a confident nod. “I'll give you the number to my burner phone, which is what I use to talk to your boss.” She picks up Atreus's phone and inputs her information before sliding it back.

Confirming the number, Atreus sends a text message to the newly added contact. After only a few seconds of delay, the loud whirring of a violently vibrating phone is heard somewhere close by. Stephanie picks up her black leather designer purse, which was sitting at the foot of her chair, and takes her burner phone out to save Atreus's number.

“Alright, I have you in my contacts. Now there's two numbers in there,” she announces while trying to force a small smile. “I'll try and ask the network security team about the how the infrastructure might be in the coming days or weeks, and when the next update is due.”

“I'd really appreciate that; anything you can get could help bring me one step closer to finding out why this is happening.”

“Have you ever done this sort of investigation before for your... employers?” Stephanie asks, unsure of how to word the question.

Atreus shakes his head. “No, I haven't; I'm new to this. Why, is it obvious?” A small, self-deprecating smile crosses his face. He doesn't expect to be seen as competent on his first – and hopefully last – attempt at solving a murder.

“No, actually. You seem pretty reliable.”

“I gotta admit, I'm just going copying what I've seen from movies in some cases, and going off what seems to be common sense in others,” he admits with embarrassment. “I was kind of thrust into this with no warning. I'm totally out of my element here.”

“You seem invested, though,” she gives an honest observation. “It makes me feel like I can trust you to solve this whole thing.”

“I'm glad I can give you that sense of security, but... I don't know if I can follow through with those expectations. It's all been going so slowly. It's only been four days, but it feels like I've been at it for weeks.”

“Yeah. Time's kinda slowed down for me, too. But for different reasons.”