Above Heaven and Below, I Alone Am Supreme
“How the hell is the computer’s name—”
[Edge Bar]
“Where… is this?”
“Well then, welcome to Edge Bar.”
A modest two-story building. A hastily scrawled neon sign hung out front.
It looked like the kind of place you might spot while driving down some wide American highway—unremarkable at a glance, yet oddly conspicuous once noticed.
Yes, the girl who proudly called herself the Hacking Prodigy had dragged me straight to a bar.
‘…Is it really okay for a kid to be hanging around a place like this?’
Even if parts of her body had been replaced with machinery, it would be a problem if she’d already developed a taste for alcohol at her age.
Having died drunk in my previous life, I felt especially uneasy. From what I’d heard, mutants could even get drunk, so the thought of her getting addicted this early was alarming.
“Just in case you’re wondering, this isn’t some dangerous spot, so relax. It’s my place, after all.”
“…What did you say?”
She must have misinterpreted my expression. The silver-haired girl—the Hacking Prodigy—turned to me with a grin as she headed inside.
“I mean, nothing criminal happens here. I kick out anyone who looks like trouble.”
…Technically, what we were about to do was criminal, but I didn’t feel like souring the mood by pointing that out.
‘Still, this being her own bar…’
Was she some rich kid with loaded parents? I’d known a few people like that back in the day, so it didn’t shock me too much.
Take my cousin, for example. My father’s side of the family was loaded, and they owned plenty of buildings. Thanks to that, my college life had been pretty comfortable. When we both ended up at the same university, they even rented us a place so we could live together.
‘Thanks, little cousin…’
The memory surfaced out of nowhere, and I quietly closed my eyes to send her my gratitude. Sisters really were the best. No worries about clashing over gender or preferences, and unlike me, she was actually pretty—bonus points.
“Alright, have a seat over here.”
The bar was empty. The silver-haired girl casually pulled me down into a chair. Even inside the bar, she showed no sign of nervousness or guilt.
‘Ah, I guess that makes sense.’
Come to think of it, underage drinking wasn’t exactly illegal here.
“Ah, that’s alcohol, by the way…”
“I know what it is.”
“Really? I went through a lot of trouble restoring that stuff…”
Proper alcohol didn’t really exist in this world. Emotions like anger or sorrow were practically nonexistent, so the stress-relief aspect of drinking meant nothing to these people. To them, alcohol was just a pointless liquid—something that didn’t kill you if you skipped it, but came with a hangover that only lowered your efficiency.
Most of the so-called “alcohol” floating around was little more than energy drinks or, at best, bitter sparkling water. You couldn’t even be sure if it contained actual alcohol.
‘…Looking at it that way, it really is useless.’
Without those two factors from my past life, it would’ve just been a niche drink for weirdos who liked bitter flavors. That was why real booze was so hard to find in this city.
“Hmm… As expected…”
“…Huh?”
When I turned toward the intense gaze I felt, I found the Hacking Prodigy staring at me with an odd look in her eyes.
“It’s nothing. Is there anything you want? I’ll buy it for you.”
“…Really?”
I’d expected to freak out at the mention of alcohol, given how I died in my past life, but now that the opportunity was right in front of me, I didn’t feel bad about it at all.
‘Is this some kind of longing for my previous life…?’
Even if it was rotten, it was still a mackerel—apparently, anything that reminded me of my past life alongside game development was enough to stir something in me.
“Well, we can do that later. Let’s handle the transaction first.”
But we couldn’t exactly start drinking right now. Shaking off the temptation, I steered the conversation back to the computer.
“Ah, right. Just a sec.”
At my words, the Hacking Prodigy pulled something out of her pocket.
A small, square object that fit neatly in one hand. Its surface was divided into multicolored sections, almost like a Rubik’s Cube from childhood.
“Hold on, I just need to unlock it.”
She immediately started solving the cube. It didn’t take long to release the lock.
—Ding!
Smoke began pouring out of the cube. The moment she set it on the table, its volume rapidly expanded, like a compressed file being unzipped.
—Clack!
“This is…”
“Here. This is the Ultra PC.”
What emerged after that flashy transformation was a laptop. At first glance, it looked like any ordinary notebook, but there was an unmistakable aura of light radiating from it.
“This is… the Ultra PC…”
So this was the latest model. Compared to my own aging machine—nearly three years old now—it felt on an entirely different level.
At the same time, a wave of worry hit me.
‘…Can I even afford this with my current funds?’
I’d braced myself for the price, but seeing it in person made the reality sink in. I’d scraped together every bit of profit from the game plus my severance pay, down to the last penny, but even that didn’t ease the anxiety.
“…Do you do installments, by any chance?”
“Oh my, I don’t do installments.”
I’d asked just in case, but the refusal came back matter-of-factly. Then again, this was black-market stuff—installments would be risky if the authorities got involved.
‘Then how am I supposed to…’
Just as I was racking my brain for a solution, she spoke up.
“Ah, I think you’re misunderstanding something.”
The Hacking Prodigy had been watching my troubled expression.
“I’m not going to charge you for this.”
“…Excuse me?”
What was she talking about? I instinctively switched to formal speech.
She wasn’t going to take any money? For a supercomputer that only governments and megacorps were supposed to have access to—one that was strictly regulated?
I wondered if I’d misheard, but the constellations’ reactions confirmed otherwise.
> [Constellation, the Stringed Instrument Art God] asks if what they just heard is correct.
> [Multiple Constellations] are doubting their own ears.
If even the constellations were reacting like that, then I hadn’t misheard. There was no way divine beings would mistake human speech.
In other words, the Hacking Prodigy had really said it.
“Well, it’s not exactly free… Think of it as an investment.”
“…An investment?”
“Yeah. An investment so you’ll keep working hard like you have been.”
With that, she stood up.
She hopped onto the bar counter, crossed her legs, and looked down at me with a smile.
“I’m dying to know how interesting the things you’ll create will be, and how many ancient stories you actually know.”
“Uh…”
She really did have an enormous interest in culture. It showed in everything she said and every post she’d made on the gallery—something any regular user would’ve noticed.
Given that, I could guess what she meant. Since this was something she genuinely cared about, investing this much meant nothing to her.
‘Yeah, that does make sense…’
> [Constellation, Rose’s Art God] snorts and starts rampaging.
> [Constellation, Celestial Art God] freaks out, asking why light is coming out of her eyes.
> [Multiple Constellations] rush toward Rose’s Art God.
It seemed like an important conversation, but the comedy show unfolding in real time inside my head made it impossible to focus.
Damn constellations.
“What’s with that face? Should I just take the money after all?”
“No, it’s fine.”
I quickly snatched the computer from her hands.
“By the way, what’s the password…?”
“Ah, that? It’s the same as the model name. Above heaven and below, I alone am supreme.”
“…Pardon?”
How the hell was that a computer model name—
“What, you don’t like it? I named it after a famous saying from an ancient text…”
Yeah. Extremely.
What kind of model name was that? If someone asked what computer I used, I’d have to answer “Above heaven and below, I alone am supreme.”
Of course, the locals here wouldn’t know any better, but I did.
I wanted to ask her to change it, but…
“No, it’s fine. It’s pretty cool, actually.”
“Hehe, I knew you’d think so!”
If I complained now, she might take the computer back. So I quietly shut my mouth.
‘…At least I won’t forget the password.’
Well, whatever. If it works, it works.
Compared to what I’d gained, a little dignity was a cheap price to pay.