Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: The First Sieve
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Early evening.
Jin crossed Junk Plaza with a large bundle slung over his shoulder.
The bar he reached after weaving through now-familiar alleys leaked a hazy light.
As he pushed open the door, Poh turned his head.
"Ah, Jin."
"Hey."
There was a customer inside.
A skinny man sat in the corner, sipping liquor from an iced glass. Jin couldn't tell if he was just a patron or a Solo on break.
But judging by his lack of reaction to the bloodstained bundle, he was probably a Solo.
"Something like this a bit much here?"
Poh gave a faint smile and beckoned at Jin's question.
"This way."
The room they entered, guided by Poh, was a spacious area behind the central shelves.
For Jin, it was filled with unfamiliar equipment and tools. The abundance of metal gear filled the air with a rusty smell, like old swings and keychains.
"Set it down here."
Poh gestured to a wide table in the room's center, and Jin placed the heavy sack on top.
Poh immediately untied the sealed strings, checked the contents, and spoke slowly.
"Edmund Nielsen himself. Was the data chip inserted during transport?"
"Nah, not that."
Jin shook his head and pulled a red chip from his pocket.
"Here."
Poh took the data chip naturally and ran his thumb over the engraved flame emblem.
"Mind waiting a moment?"
He turned and walked to a large computer with three monitors, tangled wires dangling like tentacles in every direction.
He plugged the chip into an external port and silently stared at the program windows that popped up, filled with dense hieroglyph-like scripts.
To Jin, it looked like a three-headed monster spewing incomprehensible visual gibberish.
As his eyes grew tired and he glanced around the room idly, Poh nodded.
"It's the leaked data chip, confirmed."
"Sweet."
"But..."
Just as Poh was about to add something, the door behind them opened.
"You're here? Handled it quick."
Clicking high heels. A smoky, sweet scent wafting by.
Kalifa, who had approached silently, looked at Jin.
"Your face is a mess."
"It was hot. Thought I was getting roasted."
"Ouch. Tough break."
Kalifa gave a small smile, her gaze naturally shifting to the bundle.
"Why'd you haul this heavy thing? We only needed the data chip."
"Well—"
Jin opened his mouth, careful not to scratch his itchy, blistered face.
"Once I pulled the chip, his eyes rolled back like a maniac and he lunged. Not sure, but he got stronger, and hits didn't seem to faze him. Anyway, something was off."
"...I see."
Kalifa narrowed her eyes.
She turned and said,
"Poh?"
"Malware. Logic points to Rampage Virus—aka Berserk. Hidden via stealth processes, so the user wouldn't suspect. Seems designed to trigger after a set time or forced chip removal."
Jin blinked.
Berserk? Berserker? He knew that.
Blood explosions, Guts, Tekken brown bear, rampaging Servants.
Heracles, probably. Sad when he died to Gilgamesh's chain play...
As Jin's thoughts wandered, Kalifa brushed back her hair.
"Berserk, huh... Give me a sec?"
She excused herself to Jin and left the room.
Something unexpected had cropped up, but Jin didn't dwell on it.
His job was done, after all.
Now alone again, Poh asked,
"How was your first commission?"
"Eh. Doable... I guess? Not sure. It was whatever. Didn't die, so good enough."
Poh slipped the extracted data chip into a ziplock bag and said,
"You know the term 'Three Sieves' in the Solo world?"
"...Sieves?"
"Yes. Three consecutive commissions, starting with the first. It describes the overwhelming dropout rate of rookies in that span."
Poh sealed the ziplock tight and placed it in a document envelope.
He continued in his usual calm voice.
"Only about 7% pass all three. That's how many survive. And earn recognition."
7%.
A raw percentage closer to grade A than B. Even in studies, that's impressive. For life-or-death Solos, it was brutal.
As Jin marveled at the cutthroat scene, Poh spoke.
"Congratulations, Jin. You've passed the first sieve."
Three Sieves
📍 Description: Three commissions. Three sieves. The path to becoming a true Solo.
⏰ Progress: (1/3)
🎁 Failure: Rejecting a commission
💎 Rewards: Perk XP 10,000, (Unknown) Story Unlock
What the hell.
Story? Unknown? Who's messing with me.
Jin scowled—extremely displeased, sanitized—scanning the invisible text, and Poh tilted his head.
"If my words bothered you—"
"No, no. Just felt queasy suddenly. Thanks for the congrats."
Jin waved it off like swatting a fly and forced a smile.
Now piss off, I've seen it all.
Just then, Kalifa returned.
"Your reward."
Jin took the thick envelope she offered, marveling at its weight.
"Two million..."
"Three million credits."
"Huh?"
Jin flinched in surprise but pocketed it lightning-fast. Kalifa chuckled at his speed.
"Bonus for handling the Berserk surprise cleanly. Keep it up."
Bonus?
Stunned, Jin narrowed his eyes.
His common sense hit rock bottom in this world. Sure, Jin was a proper college grad with a job, knowing full well how hard earning others' money was.
He wasn't naive enough to take her words at face value.
A broker's tip money always had a reason, and not shutting up about it meant 1M credits to build trust—a silent gesture.
Not stingy, huh.
Jin mentally upgraded his view of Kalifa by 0.5 levels.
"I'm out."
Job done, Jin turned to leave.
But he paused and looked back.
"Any good gun shops you recommend?"
Kalifa touched her chin at the sudden question.
"Gun shop? Hm..."
After a brief pause, she replied.
"Good Neighbor in Junk Plaza's second tier. Run by an old guy named Brof—solid stock. Interested? I'll message the exact address."
"Appreciate it."
"No biggie."
Kalifa sent it right there.
Feeling his terminal vibrate in his chest pocket, Jin patted it to confirm and turned away.
Then screeched to a halt.
"Oh, right."
"...?"
Meeting Kalifa's what-now gaze, Jin scratched his head sheepishly.
"One more thing to ask."
After Jin left, Poh upended the bundle, dumping the once-Edmund Nielsen corpse onto the table.
Smashed front and back of the head, bruised flanks, bloodshot skin.
Poh examined not just visible wounds but unseen flows meticulously.
"Clear traces of Mana Circuit rampage. Berserk activated, for sure."
Kalifa, leaning against the wall, asked,
"Can you recover it? BH or whatever."
"Most data permanently lost to Berserk, but I'll try."
As Poh answered flatly, Kalifa stared at Nielsen's blackened eyes.
"What if he hadn't been subdued?"
"Would've turned the area to rubble."
"Yeah... Indiscriminate terrorist with family magic. Does our leaker want to plunge the city into chaos?"
Kalifa muttered, arms crossed.
"Maybe the Black Mages are back."
"Notify Solad brokers?"
"They know. They're not idiots."
"Got it. Just the data chip, then."
"By the way, Poh."
"Yes."
"What do you think of Jin?"
Poh looked up from tinkering with Nielsen's neural socket.
"Impressive. Solo-wiped Steel Hands, edged Fenrir in a skirmish, subdued a Berserk mage. Rookie no more."
"Yeah, not average."
Kalifa nodded.
She was a top Downtown Linker, synced with countless Solos.
But Jin's type was new.
Her routine background check—the club CCTV footage still burned in her mind.
Jin massacred the gang alone.
Getting beaten, thrown, stabbed.
Throwing his body into the grinder, death at any moment.
Today, full-body burns plus clear bullet scars on his shoulder. Despite needing urgent care, he hit Anecdote first. Impressive.
And he didn't hide the pain.
All so refreshingly novel to Kalifa.
Physical prowess like a secret bio-group superhuman, yet his actions oddly unhinged.
"Definitely interesting."
Poh followed her murmur.
"What was the last question, though?"
"Which?"
"If implanting a Mana Circuit lets you learn and use any spell."
Kalifa recalled Jin leaving Anecdote, face heavy with dilemma—like facing a big choice.
"Who knows. Experiencing family magic firsthand might've sparked interest."
"Planning the procedure?"
"Dunno."
Kalifa shrugged.
Mana Circuit implantation.
Not recommended.
Especially if you wanted to die naturally.
Engraving mana paths without enlightenment massively shortened lifespan. Reckless surgery was suicide bait.
But what could you do.
Pure Mana Circuits weren't handed out on demand.
Somewhere in Downtown.
A dingy alley where junkies froze in grotesque poses, vagrants in rags warmed by drumfire.
Beyond that narrow path stood an old unmanned motel.
6,000 credits for 8 hours.
A grimy 4-pyeong room stinking of mold.
A brilliant light flashed within.
Pure, soft blue glow.
Jin snapped his eyes open at its center.
He learned it!
Mana Circuit.