Cool Sucker!
Bus rumbling along. Staring at the stock market on my phone, I squeezed my eyes shut tight.
What the hell is this...
Everything in the red. I don't usually check stock communities much, but today my fingers just wandered there. Same story. The details were too brutal to recount. Chaos like the apocalypse had hit.
Screw it, no more looking.
Markets go down, then up again. But for now, I decided not to trust in divine intervention. I'd checked just in case good deeds got rewarded. Fat chance.
Jesus Christ.
I got off the bus and headed straight for the PC bang. Got a text about a card payment there. Looked like they'd eaten with the kids and come to game. Pretty solid choice for a 1,902-year-old granny. Kids raised in Cyber City would be PC pros anyway.
Stepping inside, it was packed. Kids hauling ramen cups, trash-talking teammates, chaotic game sounds blasting everywhere. Rush hour after work and school overlapped, so it was jammed.
The PC bang was small, so spotting them was easy. Kids lined up in a row, gaming away with Renea. Energy drinks at each station—they were deep in it.
"Agh! What the hell?!"
"Wait! You can't do that!"
"We're screwed!"
"This sister's gone feral!"
"Heh heh, heh heh heh."
Curious what game had them so hyped, I watched quietly from behind. Survival game. I'd figured casual arcade stuff, but damn, hardcore mode.
"What I wanted to burn... was this forest right here."
Setting the forest ablaze in a survival game. And it was already raging, but she kept tossing more fire. Madness radiating from Renea's back as she torched it. Pupils dilated, mouth agape like drool might drip any second.
"Burn it all down. Heh heh heh, even the World Tree—up in flames."
"Renea."
"Hng?!"
She whipped around, startled. Like a kid caught playing with fire, glancing around slyly.
"Y-You're here? This lady's been playing with the kids all day—exhausted."
"...Yeah. Looks like you had a blast."
"Mister! This sister wrecked everything we built!"
"Tree house, tree table, tree chairs—all torched!"
"Hey, why'd you do that?!"
Under the kids' glares, she scratched her cheek and started explaining.
"All meaningless. This lady tried building that stuff once long ago too—"
"Sis, let's play again!"
"No more of that next time!"
"Restart and we'll lock you up first."
"Bye!"
Renea and the kids waved wildly, parting ways. The scene I'd witnessed was shocking, but she'd kept them entertained—smiles all around.
Good call leaving them with Renea.
I'd figured one or the other: age making her great with kids, or matching mental age for fun. Latter, apparently.
Relieved seeing their grins after so long, Renea caught my eye and beamed.
"Ahh! Playing with kids is exhausting. Boss, treat this lady to dinner. Something pricey."
"Dinner? Get real—we're grabbing instant noodles on the way home."
"Hweh?"
Shocked, she pouted her lips inward.
"Why?! This lady worked hard!"
"Packed with ulterior motives, thinking kids know nothing? Sis? You know you're like 1,890 years older than them?"
"Don't spell out the age gap like that!"
She huffed, nostrils flaring. Taxi for drop-off, but heading to the bus stop now—Renea let out a hollow laugh.
"What? Posing tough in front of the kids? Thought you'd taxi home too!"
"No priority seats for elderly on taxis."
"Dodging? Huh? Huh?"
Her cheeky grin made me want to flick her forehead. She poked my elbow, grating on my nerves.
"So? Who are those kids? Looked like a client's."
"Sigh... Yeah. Old client's mistake."
"Mistake?"
"Not a big deal now. Just pushed matching too hard and failed."
Back when enthusiasm overflowed. You can marry. Gotta find someone for your kids. Don't worry. Words meant to uplift turned poison. Too late when I realized. No takers for a woman with five kids. Obvious in hindsight—I was naive. On the 7th Floor, marriage on command was routine.
Gazing at the sunset sky, I let out a short sigh.
Two years ago. Same sky when I told the kids, Sorry, I failed.
"Tch, so I just help out. First 6th Floor client, y'know."
"..."
"These days they'd call it pathetic, no profit—why bother?"
"Hey, no such talk."
At the bus stop, Renea checked the timetable without looking my way. Heavier tone than usual.
"This place is strange. Calls goodwill pathetic. Gestures death to petty sinners."
"..."
"Truth is, such words chaos the world more."
Elf lived 1,900 years in the forest. Saved the world countless times—how did she see us now?
"This lady's seen multitudes. Some shone so brilliantly, enviable."
"..."
"Good deeds know no profit. That's their value."
"Ha—say that now, get called a sucker."
I shrugged; she spun around, grinning brightly.
"So what if they call you sucker? Super cool!"
"Cool?"
"Yes! Among humans this lady's seen outside the forest, boss is coolest!"
"...Yeah."
Unexpected. 7th Floor origins, running a matchmaking agency—no people-pleasing. Yet hearing this, I grasped why I wasn't the world's "sucker."
Screw it—looking dumb's fine.
Reasons to help kids? Just helping. Adult stuff, right?
"Heh."
A chuckle escaped. Elders share life's wisdom, they say. 1,900 years? Definitely something there.
"Boss! Bus coming!"
"One question."
"Huh?"
To Renea waving at the bus, I smiled and asked.
"Cooler than Park Bugyeom?"
"Don't cross lines."
"..."
"Jeez, this lady's speechless."
Goddamn annoying.
Cyber City alley. White-haired woman Mosco Bi Chacos, barely hidden, caught her breath and closed her eyes tight.
No room for even breathing loud.
Biting her lip, she replayed recent events.
What the hell just happened?
Disguised arrival at the Tower. Tough hurdles, but success certain. AI gone, Axis-bred distrust loosened surveillance—she'd slipped through perfectly.
Mosco Bi Chacos's prep was flawless. Ticket down to 3rd Floor secured—just board and go. Even entered the elevator.
But the Tower refused.
Passengers include a restricted individual. Access denied.
First time seeing that message. Even staff panicked—unprecedented.
Misunderstanding: Tower just exists. Borders, checks—people and Cyber City handle that. Tower follows rules humans made.
First time it seemed willful, targeting one person.
Mosco's plan crumbled. Suspicious staff started ID checks; wanted fixer barely escaped with her life.
Restricted...
Breath steadier, she pondered.
Linked to 6th Floor lockdown?
Similar to Axis blocking other floors' entry. Difference: only her singled out.
Then the 3rd Floor kid rendezvous—
Sss...
"...?!"
Terminal slid across alley floor to her feet. Gun drawn, aiming at the end: skinhead cyborg mess.
Bald usually meant full cranial cyber—machine syndrome. Headshots wouldn't kill.
Pursuer? Finger on trigger—but he turned away.
Bang!
Shot out of spite. Smoke from head, no damage, he left.
Left behind: glowing green terminal.
Delivering this?
Screen down, she peeked. Message popped instantly.
Billangsi? Unknown name. Not a fixer code or regular client.
Mike spotted, she spoke.
"You? The elevator block?"
Instant reply.
"How?"
"Only you? Then the 6th Floor isolation—"
Grip tightened on gun. Someone beyond expectations watching her.
"What's your goal?"
Fury surged—wanted to blast the terminal. Pointless, she knew.
He knows about the kids.
Info she'd hidden fiercely, handed to him easily.
"What... do you want?"
"Fail?"
These types always had penalties.
"You fucking bastard—!"
Hijack AllCash Cash Transport Vehicle!
🎁 Reward: Children's health.