Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Experienced Hire
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#004_Experienced Hire
#012
1.
Necropolis, 2nd Run.
One week elapsed.
During that time, I adapted to this city so quickly that I couldn't help but pat myself on the back, thinking, "This is why companies hire experienced pros."
So, what exactly happened...?
2.
I used the protection money squeezed from the guys who attacked me, plus the cash from selling their corpses, to qualify as a 9th Rank Fixer.
Registration name: John Wick.
I ditched M-shaped balding James Bond for a way cooler, tougher-sounding alias.
With just 5,000 Bios, anyone could get this knockoff certification—it was a total breeze.
But didn't I learn this at BigDick Agency?
Just having a Fixer license doesn't land you the good gigs.
The sweet part-time jobs circulate through agency networks as backdoor requests or subcontracts, while the city hall bulletin board only posts the crappy odd jobs.
If I wanted to rake in cash fast within a week, I needed my own agency.
-Bang!
"FBI! OPEN UP!"
I kicked the door open with a badass door-breaching entry.
This was the GetMoney Agency in E-11 District.
From what I'd scouted ahead, it was a low-tier outfit run by two 8th Rank Fixers teaming up.
"W-What the fuck!"
The two guys playing cards jumped up in a panic.
Piles of coins and cards scattered everywhere.
If it weren't this situation, I might've joined them.
"Damn, two dudes playing poker? You guys that lonely—suck each other off too?"
"You crazy fuck, busting in here starting shit! You know where you are?"
Truth be told, 8th Rank Fixers aren't chumps to underestimate.
Sure, cases like the BigDick brothers existed—9th Ranks who'd leveled up with experience—but some had decent gear, augmentations, or even used "magic."
Fundamentally, they were ruthless types who could full-swing a bat at an unarmed civilian's head without blinking.
But no problem.
-Bang!
No need for Four-Wheel Eye, or even Laplace's Eye.
No 8th Rank Fixer carried anything as badass as this revolver.
"...F-Fuck... W-What the...?"
One shot into the ceiling was enough to crush their will to fight.
"This place is mine now. Pack up and get out."
"Yes, sir! We'll clear out!"
The two huddled against the wall, necks shrunk, shuffling toward the exit.
"Hold up."
"Yeah?"
"I'm the boss here now. I'll hire you punks as part-timers. You get half the fee per completed job. And in a week, you'll vacate the office clean."
I needed the handover anyway, plus their street smarts for advice.
"But if you bail midway, I'll come back and trash the place. Deal?"
They stared blankly at each other, faces blank, then nodded.
"Introductions first. Baldy, you start."
"Uh... I'm Akit..."
"Musclehead next to him, you?"
"I'm A-Arong."
"I'm John Wick. Let's get along."
Just like that, I became the interim boss of GetMoney Agency.
GetMoney Agency was a sub-subcontractor for Overnus Pharmaceuticals, one of the two megacorps—alongside Twilight Resource Development—that dominated Necropolis.
Ceres, the death variable from last run, was a Twilight Resource Development executive.
BigDick Agency mainly took jobs from Twilight too.
So, this was my pick to minimize contact with Ceres's side?
Anyway, the moment I took interim boss duties, I tackled the backlog of requests at GetMoney Agency, whatever came my way.
Literally, whatever.
"Hey, hey, hey, kids. This shit leaking everywhere?"
"Gahhh!!! Yeah! It's leaking! Fuck, we gotta deal with this crap just to dump a few barrels of toxic sludge?"
"No more of this shit from now on, boss!"
"Part-timers picky about jobs? Shut up and hustle!"
"Fuck, acting all buddy-buddy after one look. This sucks balls..."
"Wanna bullet in your skull?"
"I'm hustling! Running now!"
Illegal dumping of toxic waste.
"Mister, you borrow money, you pay it back, right?"
"J-Just a little more time..."
"Sure, gotta give you time. But I checked—your daughter's a real looker. Sell her to a brothel, she'd be top ace."
"Eek! H-Here... it's here...!"
Debt collection.
"Arong, that's the guy, right?"
"Yeah, the bastard jacked the fee threefold, didn't even wipe his ass right, and ghosted."
"Gutsy fucker. Cool, count to three—I'll bag his head, you two beat him till he drops. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Arghhh! Y-You fucks, who are you?!"
"Beat him down! Beat him! Beat him!"
Murder contract.
"Kuhaha, pure stuff, nice."
"It's a designer drug ripped straight from Overnus Pharmaceuticals. Looks like bath salts, but burn it and inhale the vapor... Huh? W-Who the fuck are you?"
"Republic of Korea prosecutor here, you junkie scum! Arrest 'em all!!!"
Illegal drug bust.
"...So, what's in this box anyway?"
"A-Akit... Didn't you hear something inside just now...?"
"D-Don't bullshit... How's a person fitting in a tiny box like... B-Boss? What the hell is this?"
"Must have a small one inside."
"What kinda nonsense..."
"Hah, ignorant fucks. You never read The Little Prince?"
...Probably transport services.
"Boss, been wondering—why the fucked-up clown getup?"
"Akit, watch your mouth with the boss... Obvious, right? Intimidation, like tattoos. Yeah?"
"......"
"Boss? John Wick boss, you look off today. Barely said a word."
"Why're your hands shaking?"
"Don't know, fuck off. I'm fucking exhausted."
The toughest one: casino security.
Our first meeting sucked, but we meshed well.
Akit and Arong had decent muscle but were thick-skulled.
I could be their brains, the high-IQ ace.
Add Laplace's Eye for tracking gigs, and in days, our completion rate doubled.
A week with these guys.
"Kids, tonight I'm treating you to some real killer shit."
"Ooh! Boss footing the bill?"
"Off to Hongshen Market?"
"Wait up, idiots."
After wrapping today's jobs, I pulled out the Chapagetti I'd stashed.
Drew it with my precious 5pt...
But hey, a commemorative party?
Bundle of five anyway—two left for Arbel's discharge bash when she recovers.
"Sniff sniff, damn, boss. This smell..."
"Told you to wait outside."
"Aw, why so tsundere? Got it."
Peak of chemical flavor wizardry from Korea's top PhD brains.
In a city where they boil scraps from cans and call it food, that aroma alone was lethal.
My stomach growled.
Fuck, going insane here.
Should've eaten it solo?
"Done!"
But seeing Akit and Arong roll their eyes in ecstasy, regrets vanished.
"B-Boss...! Fucking legendary! How's this taste even exist? W-Where'd you get this?"
"Good job, kids. Dig in."
"Sob sob, how do I eat normal food now? I'm ruined..."
"It's precious. Savor it."
"Slurp! Slurrrrp!"
"Hey, hey hey fuck! Give it! Savor it, bitch! Spit it out!"
Scary tats, scary vibes, but up close, fun guys.
Of course, only 'cause I outpowered them.
Without that overwhelming show of force at first meet, these two giggling idiots smacking each other's napes might've turned me into ground meat.
Three guys, three servings of Chapagetti—still too little.
They licked the pot clean, no dishes needed.
"Whew... Absolute best."
"No regrets if I die now."
They sat dazed in bliss, puffing smokes for ages.
"Call it here today."
Akit looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Huh? No night shift tonight?"
"Got plans."
"Thought you'd feed us good, then push some risky gig."
Yeah, routine had been dawn job, lunch job, dinner job, night shift.
But today was cockroach nutrition block ration day—and Arbel's return from hell.
Weekly earnings summary...
======
:::Challenges (NEW!):::
- Open a Fixer Agency +5pt
- Complete a Murder Contract +1pt
- Successfully Deliver Suspicious Goods +1pt
- Illegally Dump Waste in the River +1pt
.
.
[Points Held: 132pt]
======
26 points from challenges.
Total Bios earned: 460,000. Half's mine: 230,000.
Saw miner weekly wage at city hall board: 15,000.
Ass-fucking at steam bath joints paid 50,000 weekly + tips—not bad.
Bootleg doc visits ran 20,000 Bios a pop, so 230,000 could score some action?
"Wrap up loose ends and head home."
As I donned my coat, musclebound Arong shuffled over awkwardly.
"What?"
"Boss, week's up now... How 'bout sticking with us longer-term?"
"Buttering me up for the grub?"
Akit piled on.
"Right! At first, thought you were some showboating psycho, but we learned tons."
"Figured out—to survive this city, gotta work under someone like you! Please take us!"
Fixers do make bank.
Teams beat solo for cash flow.
"Talk tomorrow."
"You coming tomorrow? You gotta! Promise!"
3.
Slender build.
A woman of indeterminate age staggered through Necropolis's night streets.
Petite frame.
Clothes torn here and there, minor wounds.
Beautiful blonde matted with blood, eyes glassy like drugged.
Arbel.
As she looked, her mind was half-gone.
Body and mana circuits shredded from clashing with attackers.
The long haul from Aden to Necropolis, then to the safehouse, gnawed her life like slow strangulation.
"Hey, check that chick. High as fuck?"
"Heh heh, naive girl don't know the world's dangers. Drag her to a dark spot, teach her good."
Her reason barely functioned.
Only the safehouse map she'd desperately memorized guided her drunken steps.
But she had to go.
Why? Why push through this agony?
Safe? No.
Because of Sedric?
Sedric's trash. Rotten bastard. But still—must go. Have to.
Arbel's head swirled with fractured thoughts, no logic.
"Hey, miss! Where you rushing off to?"
"Play with us!"
Two men blocked her path.
"......"
Arbel blankly eyed them.
She'd faced this countless times getting here.
"What? Psycho? Eyes all unfocused."
"Better. Toy with her, sell to a whorehouse."
What to do... like this?
Right.
"From the sky, rabbit descends."
"What're you babbling? Crazy bitch... Ack!"
A white figure grazed their napes.
Stinging pain made the would-be rapists flinch, hands to throats instinctively.
And.
"Argh, arghhh!"
"Eh... Eh... Eh...?!"
They freaked at the gushing carotid spray.
They tried reacting, but torn carotids mean blackout in seconds.
No med team on standby—no time to cope.
Arbel passed the quieted men.
One white rabbit nibbled cutely at bloodied lips, then dispersed.
"Here..."
Safehouse reached at last.
Arbel's trembling hand drew the key, unlocked.
-Creeeak!
Door opened.
End of this long journey in sight.
Sedric.
My worthless brother.
"Sedric..."
He wore a sharp new coat and ridiculous clown makeup.
"Been waiting."
Yet more reliable than funny.
Arbel swayed.
Her small frame fell into Sedric's broad embrace.
Warm, cozy.
Could sleep forever like this.
"Rest your eyes. Taking you to a doc right away."
Dream, right?
Sedric couldn't be this solid.
Arbel smiled bitterly, nodded, and blacked out.