Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Information
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He slipped through a CCTV blind spot to another location, then washed his hands in a public restroom and asked,
"I can hear your voice, Jeon Ji-in, but why can't I see you?"
"Are you inside my ear or something?"
"So you've got a speaker jammed in my ear? Perfect for hearing crazy talk."
"What is this, some product ad pitch?"
"Let's get a handle on our situation first."
He asked,
"What's the oldest thing you remember?"
"Do you know when you were implanted in my body?"
He reached a quick conclusion.
"Looks like you've lost your memories just like me. Memory initialized, something like that?"
"That's just your assumption."
He glanced at the public restroom mirror. A young man's face stared back—his own face, he knew instantly. But he had no idea who he was.
Staring into the mirror, he asked Jeon Ji-in,
"What's your name?"
"Your identity?"
"Combat Support AI. Shorten it to Jeon Ji-in. That's your name from now on."
"You don't like that name? Want me to make it Black Fire Dragon instead?"
"Ji-in, any scenarios that explain our current situation?"
"Besides what I already said?"
"That one's plausible. A mistake? Or intentional?"
"Intentionally falsifying it is weird too. Any recoverable activity memories?"
He drew his conclusion.
"Yeah, you don't know anything either."
AI Jeon Ji-in offered an excuse.
"You don't know jack, but you're great at excuses."
He looked down at his clothes.
"What about these? No memory of them either?"
"That's it?"
"I saw that too."
A flier with a date was posted in the restroom.
"Let's say you're from 2082. Then what about all those 2022 ads I saw today?"
He gave an order.
"Pick up TV or radio signals, or communication waves. Gather intel."
"Why?"
"So you can't access or output information?"
He thought for a moment, then asked,
"What do you need for me to gather info through you?"
"Where's that?"
He concluded,
"First quest, huh."
He peeled off the patches on both arms first. The Earth Union and Strategic Special Forces patches went into his pocket.
"This outfit's design is a bit different from what others are wearing. The uniform?"
Parts of his clothing could be removed, flipped, or reattached in different ways. Following the AI's instructions, he altered the outfit's form. In an instant, it blended in with civilian clothes.
"Now for network access..."
"Got it. But I don't have a smartphone. Borrowing one leaves traces—not ideal."
"Access the internet without leaving records... Perfect spot for that."
Standing in front of a PC bang, he eyed the sign.
"Go into a PC bang, use one of their internet-connected computers."
"Nah. Just common sense kicking in. The problem is..."
PC bangs aren't free.
"Need money to use this place."
He rummaged through his pockets. Besides the patches he'd removed earlier, not even a scrap of paper.
"Gotta make about ten thousand won first."
He scanned the surroundings.
"What's a good way..."
A bit further off, someone was singing. A small money box sat in front. One listener tossed in a bill.
He said,
"Maybe I should sing like that?"
Lots of people around wore masks.
"Mask should do it."
Nearby, someone was handing out flyers with disposable masks.
He went over, grabbed a flyer and a mask. For the money box, he scavenged a drink crate from an alley behind a nearby shop.
He moved elsewhere and claimed a suitable spot.
Performance space secured. The issue was whether his singing would earn cash.
"What song to sing to get donations?"
"Uh... I didn't even remember I couldn't remember any songs."
"When do I practice those?"
"You can borrow my mouth to sing?"
"Do it."
The first song was one playing from a shop he'd passed moments ago.
Passersby halted instinctively at the sound.
"Whoa, he sings great."
"A singer?"
"Who's that?"
"Masked, no mic, acapella—and nailing it."
"Yeah. Voice is different from pros, but it's got a fresh vibe."
The song from his throat had a timbre completely unlike the original singer's.
Instead, Jeon Ji-in matched the original's pronunciation, rhythm, and pitch perfectly. The result felt familiar yet new, with a smooth voice that was easy on the ears.
"Seriously good."
One onlooker remarked,
"Why start midway through?"
The snippet came from a shop tune he'd overheard while walking. No data on what came before or after.
The song switched seamlessly—to another he'd caught passing a different shop.
This one was by a female singer. Timbre aside, the range was too high for a man.
Yet that soaring melody poured flawlessly from his mouth.
Gasps erupted everywhere.
"Whoa!"
Another 30 seconds, another switch.
The next was a low, smooth, deep ballad.
Listeners' faces softened, relaxed.
Then doubts crept in.
"Sings amazing, but why the medley?"
"Teaser?"
"And those octave jumps—what?"
His drink crate sat before him. One listener dropped in three thousand won. More followed.
The brief show ended. The day's snippets were running dry anyway.
He took back control, moving his mouth himself. Vocal control returned at his whim.
"Earned enough for PC bang time and a meal."
He pulled ten thousand won from the crate, flashed a grin at the crowd, and said,
"That's it for now."
The performance was too short. The crowd was stunned.
"More songs, please!"
He waved lightly and vanished.
After he left, the onlookers dispersed. But two young women lingered, checking their smartphones.
"Got it good?"
Park Nan-jeong replayed the recorded video and said,
"Obviously. We hit the jackpot."
Park Nan-jeong had started filming before the first medley ended. With the crowd, she shot from a rear diagonal—no clear face shot. The mask made ID tough anyway.
But the singing? Crystal clear.
"What now?"
"Upload to the net, duh."
With ten thousand won in hand, he entered his target PC bang.
"You don't know this stuff?"
"I do."
He fed bills into the unmanned kiosk, got a seat number and password, found his spot, and sat.
"Felt like this was the way."
"Nope."
Hands on the keyboard, he said,
"Got our intel source now. You know how to use this?"
"Didn't you say you don't know 2022 society?"
"Then show me."
Hand control had been granted before—for field surgery on the wounded.
"Permission granted."