Hunt Down Rose

Chapter 3: Deception (Part III)

"So what happened to your arm?" I asked him, drinking from my cup of tea.

Holding his arm "It all started during the revolution. Mr. Armando Yun was the main exporter of weapons and gears for the government. Having all of the power, influence, and fame he had the ability to command people to whatever he wishes. When Amadeo Yun was born he began to change and disbanded the corporation he thinks made him corrupt. Leaving his business partners and his most valuable people ignored with nothing, you could say that the stocks immediately plummeted down the drain..." 

He took a sip from his tea and continued, "...The names Monsoon, Narcisso and Cortez, are Armando Yun's best friends and allies during his quest for fame and fortune, only their surnames are known to most people. The information was given by the family directly since even most of the authorities lack some important clues making these guys hard to find and identify.” 

"So that is where the audiovisual room acquired its name."

"Precisely!!" he continued his story "Then the government began to collapse, thanks to the efforts of the Cavaliers. Their release of the government’s illegal transactions and developments led the corporation to its downfall. It was such a tragic day during that time with the rest of our employees bursting their way into the main building hunting the head of Mr. Yun.”

He leaned back a little bit on his chair and continued, “Each and everyone who turned against the people were wounded and some killed. Closing every passageway that we can to prevent any hostiles from entering the main offices, we were prepared for what was about to happen, for death or life. With just a few minutes, they reached the office of Mr. Yun and immediately grabbed him away from his bodyguards. We're lucky enough to pull him again and rush our way towards the elevator, but just when we were about to make our escape someone tried to s***h him using an electric buzz saw. I blocked the attack with my arm and lost it in just a blink of an eye. I was screaming in pain being relieved by some of the employees seeing my blood make a trail on the floor. As we reached the ground level the police arrived just in time along with the ambulance taking control of the situation."

His version caught my interest. "Such an interesting story Mr. Soltair."

Before I could speak another word, Soltair asked, “Do you know how symbols work my dear inspector?” He is holding his cut off arm as if he is pulling this question out of his own painful experience.

I replied to him, “Dictionary wise, yes indeed. In terms of politics, I do have a bit of an idea but it seems you have something more interesting in mind.” I replied.

He continued speaking, “From what I understood throughout the history of this country, everything is determined by symbols, what it represents, and the people who see the symbols.” His words have a silver lining to it, I agree with this proposition.

“So you are saying that the moment the people fail to see or disregard the symbolism and what it represents, there would be repercussions,” I asked, trying to verify what he meant with his claim.

“Yes, repercussions do exist on various scales. The question is for whom?”

“For whom you say?” His statement made me think.

“Just like what I said earlier, symbols have representations. The reason for its existence is to symbolize something familiar to the people. The same way that this arm symbolizes my past.”

“This country has a lot of symbols, how is that related to what’s going on?” I asked since his cryptic words are starting to confuse me.

“Let’s say I’m a child with a ten-peso coin. I have a vague idea of the value of the coin I have, so I asked an adult to explain to me what ten pesos amount to. There are two situations that could happen, either that adult tells me that the value of the coin is lower or nothing at all through false representation, or the adult tells me the true value of the coin by giving proper examples. In the long run, as a child, I wouldn’t be able to consider the right amount unless another adult convinces me or if I figure it out by myself when I grow up. The harsh truth about it is that at the end of the day I’m responsible for everything.”

I suddenly replied to him following his line of reasoning, “But you are a Child, it’s basically the adults’ fault for not telling you the truth.”

“That is true if and only if I would stay like a child forever, Hahahaha.” He said as his maniacal laugh echoed over the room.

He continued speaking after getting a hold of himself, “Tell me, in a population of over a hundred million, do you think that the majority are children or would remain as children? Definitely not! Therefore, whose responsibility is it when determining the value of symbols?” His point does make sense for this particular example.

“Both of course, children even though immature have their own ways of valuing stuff. However, it doesn’t mean that their decisions would affect a large chunk of society.” I replied taking another sip from my tea.

“True indeed. Thus in terms of governance, how do you think that applies?” He said, with a grin on his face. This is the first time I’ve seen him make that expression and it’s the same feeling as Grimnir staring at me from the mirrors.

“Symbols are made, determined, and then fed to the people, coated according to the government’s will. Same way how a wolf tries to deceive a flock of sheep by wearing clothing similar to them as a symbol of trust. Those who see through the wolf would be disregarded and colored black. Especially with how the propaganda war goes, even a murderer can be turned into a hero by media, and vice versa. The government may or may not be behind the creation of such symbols, although the ultimate form of responsibility falls upon the people in charge for allowing it to exist.” Things are getting interesting. There seems to be something going on for him to give me something as important as this.

Soltair fixed himself properly on his seat, crossing his legs while looking at me process his words like a buffering internet browser, “Mr. Thomas, you must be wondering, how in the world is this related to my experience way back in the revolution? I have no idea how old you are but, I can already tell that you don’t like seeing a lot of figures around you.”

“Figures and representations are similar to fruits hanging on the tree. Why eat the fruit if you know there’s something wrong or if it’s poisoned?” It’s a matter of common sense actually.

“You act as if you aren’t particularly aware of it, which is surprising Thomas. Whether you like it or not we all ate the same fruit that drove us to the abyss. The only thing we can do now is to prevent other people from going the same path as us, the path of the forsaken.” I am not certain if his words are related to that incident, but one thing is for sure, I’m not in the right position to win this argument.

 Then, eating a piece of biscuit I smiled and replied, “I have been enlightened thanks to you.”

“Glad I could be of help. I think it is important.” With such conceited praise, he smiled in satisfaction.

“As a matter of fact, yes. If you would excuse me, I am going to continue with the investigation." I replied to him getting myself out of the room, heading down the stairs to see if Melissa is already there. 

My blood seems to be boiling in that exchange and staying inside that room may not be good in the long run. Looking analytically on almost everything, the details of the scene are like pieces of the puzzle, almost on the verge of completion. The main setback is the entirety of the image we’re trying to complete. We don’t know what it is and what it represents. Adding Soltair's story and experiences on top of that, and we have ourselves a fruit shake of disasters.

(To be Continued)