The Logmaster - Chapter 2
(…What’s this red circle icon…?)
I peer at the screen in the silent, dimly lit train.
In the sender field, there is just a red circle emoji.
–A lone “⭕️” was displayed.
I don’t recognize the sender.
No one I know has an account like this.
It’s probably a phishing scam or a sophisticated spam message.
Omiichi rubbed his heavy eyelids and swiped left on the notification to delete it.
At that moment, a new message came in like a bombardment.
“Why not utilize your skills?”
“…teeth?”
I couldn’t help but let out a low voice.
Technology? Utilizing my skills? What on earth is that all about?
Who would be interested in my technology?
— But before that, I wonder if there is any skill left that I can use…
Although I was confused, a rough emotion throbbed deep in my chest.
My pride as an engineer has long since been shattered.
He is treated like an outdated veteran employee and is constantly talked about behind his back, being called a “burden.”
He feels out of place within the company, and no one appreciates his skills.
Still, the word “technology” left a slight tingle in my parched mind.
“Are you kidding me?”
Even as Omiichi muttered this, he couldn’t take his eyes off the notification.
On the smartphone screen, there are two messages lined up: the first message that I failed to delete and a new message.
In both cases, the sender was just a red circle icon, there was no subject, and the body of the message contained just the same invitation.
Common sense would dictate that it should be removed immediately.
And yet, my fingertips won’t move the way I want them to.
— The vigilance and curiosity of engineers.
My heart was torn between two opposing emotions.
As if mocking my hesitation, another new message arrived on the trembling device.
『http://www.human-ao44.com』
Suddenly, a URL link was sent to me.
It looks like a typical phishing site, but “ao44”
— I was strangely intrigued by a string of characters that could also be read as my initials and age.
Is it just a coincidence? Or…
Sweat is dripping down my forehead.
Once the seed of doubt takes root in your mind, it will cling to you like a spider’s web and never let go.
(…It should be fine if you just open the link…)
Thinking this to himself, Omiichi swallowed the word “ridiculous” that was on the tip of his tongue.
Fatigue and impaired judgement, the frustration that builds up day by day, and the eerie invitation of an unknown source.
–And then there’s the twisted expectation that comes with the words, “Would you like to put your skills to good use?”
All these things mixed, completely dulling the vigilance that would normally be present.
Before he knew it, Omiichi’s fingertips, trembling as they were, were already touching the URL.
The linked page is loaded.
After a moment of loading, an extremely simple login screen appeared on the smartphone screen.
There is just one box for a username and password on a pure white background, with a lone “Send” button below it.
It has an inorganic quality, like a company’s internal system.
Name：【Ayumaru Omiichi】
PASS: [ ] (Hint: Date of birth)
“…!”
Your name is entered in Roman letters from the beginning.
My breath hitched, and my fingertips stiffened. The sense of eeriness grew even more.
Beneath the blank password field was written “Hint: Date of Birth.”
(Is it a prank by a colleague…? A data leak…? That can’t be…)
Unpleasant thoughts come to my mind, and a chill runs down my spine.
Someone, I don’t know who they are, has my personal information…
My throat was parched with irrational fear.
The sound of someone swallowing their saliva sounded unusually loud.
With trembling fingers, Omiichi slowly types in his date of birth.
“1” “9” “8” “0” “0” “5” “0” “5”…
After I finished typing in the numbers, I steeled myself and pressed the [Send] button.
After a short pause, the screen changes.
A simple interface based on white. “Login successful.”
—— After this was displayed for a moment, another message window immediately popped up on the screen.
“Your password is the default. To improve security, we have changed it to the following password. This password cannot be changed in the future. Please make sure to save it in a safe place. New password: Fg7h$Kp0!zX2”
“You’re just making changes without permission?”
Omiichi involuntarily frowned.
Immediately after logging in, the password was unilaterally updated, and a complex string of 12 letters, numbers, and symbols was presented.
Moreover, it says that “no future changes will be possible.”
It’s so forceful that it’s shocking.
Confused by the password, which he could never possibly remember, Omiichi reflexively took a screenshot of the screen.
Once the message disappeared, a menu appeared at the top of the screen.
Guest
Human
Help
Logout
First, I tapped “Help,” and a brief explanation was displayed.
Tap the History button next to each name to view the history of that person’s life.
If you leak the contents of this site to a third party, you will lose all memory of this site.
(History…? Losing memory…? What is this? It’s like a setting from a manga.)
Omiichi chuckled bitterly at the absurd warning. He understood the importance of confidentiality, but he had never heard of someone losing their memory.
It’s an elaborate enough joke to be malicious, but it also comes across as a somewhat childish threat.
Next, open “Guest”.
In an instant, the color drained from Omiichi’s face as he saw what was displayed.
Filling the entire screen was none other than a detailed profile of myself.
Name, date of birth, address, place of employment, educational background, work history
——That’s not all.
Everything is recorded in detail, even down to the most recent actions.
The amount of information I received sent chills down my spine, as if someone was watching me at all times.
I cautiously return to the home screen and tap “Human.”
Then, a list of familiar names appeared on the screen.
Kenta Tanaka … [History]
Makoto Suzuki … [History]
Yumi Takahashi … [History]
Taro Yamada … [History]
Koji Iiyama … [History]
Shizuka Tomaru … [History]
The long, scrollable list included all the events that Omiichi had been involved in during his 44 years of life, including:
Or there was a long list of names of people with whom he still has contact today.
Colleagues, superiors, friends from school, estranged relatives…and among them is the name of Tomaru Shizuka.
It seems like they’re listed in order of who they’ve spoken to most recently.
Next to each name is a button labeled “History.”
Still skeptical, Omiichi found a line about Tanaka Kenta, a junior colleague who had recently pushed work onto him, and pressed the “History” button.
The screen changes to show a photo of Tanaka Kenta, along with a chronology of the events in his life.
The hospital where you were born,
The first day I walked,
Elementary school entrance ceremony,
My first love in middle school,
Club activities in high school
University entrance exams,
Joining the company…
And yesterday…
Yesterday’s entry contained a detailed record of the conversation that Tanaka had while drinking with a colleague at an izakaya after finishing the work that he had pushed onto Omiichi.
“Ayumaru-san, you’re a real burden. Just having him there brings down the morale of the team. I wish he’d quit soon.”
— The gossip was more blatant and harsh than I’d imagined.
The raw malice made Omiichi instinctively grit his teeth.
A deep crease formed between his brows, and he felt a sharp pain in the pit of his stomach.
(…What is this…)
At the same time that I felt the bl00d drain from my face, a boiling rage welled up from the pit of my stomach.
This is not just a database.
It is a terrifying ledger of other people’s lives, recording every detail, both the good and the bad.
(Can I see Shizuka’s history as well?)
A thought suddenly crossed his mind, and Omiichi’s gaze was drawn to the name “Tomaru Shizuka” on the list.
My finger unconsciously touches her [History] button, but I quickly stop it.
What if her resume revealed a reality that made her want to turn away?
What if, behind that friendly smile, he was despising me and calling me a burden?
Just thinking about it made my heart tighten.
If our current superficial relationship falls apart, we may never be able to go back to the way it was.
Omiichi quietly put his smartphone down and made a firm promise to himself that he would not look at Tomaru Shizuka’s call history.
— A man who had lived in hiding for 44 years, ridiculed as a burden on society.
Now, this man has acquired the power to peer deep into the lives of others.
A sense of fear runs up my spine, and a faint excitement tingles deep in my chest.
At that moment, his world was beginning to change.