Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: How to Live in Fusion Punk
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These past few days, Jin had been absolutely miserable.
Injured again somewhere?
No. He'd gotten tangled in a few scuffles, but nothing serious enough to call an injury.
Starving, then?
Five meals a day. Two bowls per meal.
No need for further details.
Or maybe agonizing over which skill to pick?
He'd already decided which star to awaken. He was just a bit short on experience.
So the real reason Jin was suffering was none other than...
Way too much money...
Looking back, not long ago, Jin had been a penniless drifter scraping together change for a single slice of cake.
The money from his first job had all gone into buying the Gravis, vanishing like a card payment—never really feeling like his own.
Then, out of nowhere, 25 million credits landed in his lap.
Of course he couldn't handle it. He spent all day treating the money bag like royalty, unzipping it every spare moment to check if "his money lords" were comfortable.
Zip open. Zip closed. Open. Closed.
That's why they say you have to experience it to spend it right.
Jin's indulgences so far?
Mostly food costs. Beyond that, just a helmet with wireless comms and spare mags from Brof.
So the money bag was still heavy as ever.
He knew it was ridiculous to put it this way.
But honestly, it felt like walking around with a giant target on his back.
Even now.
His pocket cash had run dry, so he parked the Manticore in a dingy alley. The moment he pulled out a wad of bills, worried someone might spot him...
A cat leaped out of nowhere.
Jin instinctively aimed his Gravis at it, but the fleeing cat startled him more—he lowered the barrel.
Then he plopped down right there, squatting.
Babysitting a money bag wasn't a long-term gig.
This was gonna give him neuro-something.
...Maybe rent a place?
He mulled it over, but nope. Out of the question.
He'd have to stash the rest at home, but who trusts Downtown security?
And it wasn't just the money bag. The Manticore was wrinkling his brow too.
All because this thing was too damn pretty.
Don't believe him? See for yourself.
21-inch custom wheels front and back, fat tires, and a sexy matte khaki body reborn by expert hands.
A few scratches and dents were a shame, but they just added a touch of "well-loved" charm.
In Downtown's culture—where spotless rides get dismissed as "prissy"—the Manticore was something anyone would covet.
So parking anywhere meant constant anxiety.
Worried some bastard might steal it.
He'd wake up multiple times a night, checking the motel lot.
This wasn't jealousy of a spouse. It was early-stage bike jealousy.
Something was seriously wrong.
He couldn't live like this anymore. Vowing inwardly, Jin fiddled with his terminal, scrolling his sparse contacts.
In the end, it had to be Kalifa.
His pride as a red-blooded man balked, but he'd owe her one.
Stash the cash, borrow a parking spot.
Hell, while at it, score some meals, crash together.
Wait, does Poh thrash around a lot in bed?
What was he thinking.
"...Fuck."
Jin couldn't bring himself to hit call. He hung his head.
He sighed long and hard, like he was trying to cave the ground in.
Finally giving up, he stood—when a memory flashed.
He quickly checked the date on his terminal and smacked his forehead.
"Oh, right. Rum Pump Pump."
"So you were super busy last week?"
"That's what they say."
Jin nodded, taking a huge bite of his sandwich.
Then tilted his head.
Why did the bacon taste like paper?
Jenny, across from him, spoke to Jin as he gravely inspected the sandwich's cross-section.
"You should've said ahead of time if you couldn't make it. Jeki and I waited till 3 a.m."
"Haha. I was fine, but..."
Jeki—the "he" in "me and him"—gave an awkward smile.
Screw it. Jin crammed the rest in, mumbling through a full mouth.
"Wanted to, but my terminal's circuits straight-up melted..."
After some hemming and hawing—not quite excuses—Jenny watched him quietly before uncrossing her arms.
"So you're okay physically?"
"Huh?"
"Circuits don't just melt for no reason."
"Oh... Yeah, hit up a clinic, but I'm good as new now. Wanna see?"
Jin lifted his shirt, flexing washboard abs. Jenny stared, frowning.
"Not fair. How do you eat that much without an ounce of fat?"
"Maybe he shits a ton?"
Jin's brow twitched at Jeki's input.
Voice doesn't shake, but the dude says whatever.
Anyway, misunderstanding cleared.
The trio, reunited after two weeks, kept eating.
For Jin, one of his rare moments of peace.
So it was even more absurd.
Of all times, Kalifa called now.
"Yeah, Kalifa? I'm eating right now. In a bit..."
[No. Jin. Emergency.]
Her firm voice cut him off instantly.
[Sent you a URL via text. Not a virus, safe to click. It'll install a nav app—head to the coordinates it shows. I'll brief you over comms.]
"Right now?"
[Right now.]
Jin pulled the terminal from his ear, sighing at the siblings staring expectantly.
"...Gotta go."
VROOOOM!
The Manticore skidded onto the road.
"What the hell's going on?"
Jin swerved lanes, overtaking the car ahead.
Kalifa's voice came from his new helmet's speakers.
[Don't freak out. An artifact—suspected from the Light and Roses Era—was found in Downtown. Popped up on the dark web today. Matches ancient texts perfectly.]
...Artifact?
Light and Roses Era?
What the fuck.
Jin wasn't startled at all.
Her voice snapped him back.
[Jin? You listening?]
"Yeah, yeah. Go on."
[Okay. Why I'm sure it's Downtown? Seller left traces.]
And that's all Jin caught.
The rest flew in one ear and out the other, unfiltered.
TL;DR:
Dark web's a cyber black market—needs special access or software.
Outsiders can't tell what's sold.
But insiders sense each other vaguely.
Like a masked ball.
Faces hidden, but build, voice, speech? "Hey, that's Cheolsu."
Users encrypt identities multiply, but this seller botched it.
[Account encrypted seconds later, but too late. Everyone saw. Poh included.]
Jin turned the handlebars as she continued.
The Manticore leaned smoothly into the corner, then straightened and accelerated.
"Poh? How?"
[Coincidence. He's obsessed with ancient relics, always digging through the intranet. Today it led to dark web.]
Fancy hobby.
"So. He buy it?"
[If he did, I wouldn't call you. It's sold. Buyer en route now.]
"En route?"
[By the way, Jin. You far? Should be close.]
Finally noticing, Jin glanced at nav.
The path—dots connected—almost there.
But... why's it moving?
Destination on his straight-line path. Jin looked up sharply.
And saw.
A black van barreling down the avenue, surrounded by escort bikes.
"Kalifa—?! Care to explain what I'm seeing?"
[Found 'em. Sweetdream gang. Lucky artifact finders. Also idiots unaware they're traced.]
"This was nav? A tracker?"
[Not the point.]
Her voice held a light laugh.
[So today, not Linker Kalifa. Client Kalifa. Solo? Take the job? Retrieve ring-shaped artifact from them?]
Jin sighed.
"Hey. No more like this. I got a life."
[Sorry if it bugs you. No choice. You're the only Solo we can reach in Downtown. But compensation's generous.]
Even flooring it, Jin perked his ears at the key part.
[Base 10 mil credits, plus 25% of artifact's appraised value. No middleman fees. Deal?]
Jin chuckled at her self-deprecating jab.
"Fine. Accepted."
[FYI, Sweetdream's human traffickers. No need to go easy. Good luck.]
Call cut.
Alone now, Jin locked eyes on the target.
Eight bikes.
They hadn't spotted him.
Quick and clean.
Jin gunned the throttle.
VROOOOOM!!
The Manticore roared, zigzagging to close in.
Catching the gang fast, Jin drew Gravis from his waist.
Not to fire.
Even Jin couldn't shoot one-handed at 120 kph.
So he gripped the barrel tight.
Then smashed the rear gang member's skull at passing speed.
CRUNCH!
A sound unbelievable from human flesh. Face smashed into dash.
Bike spun out, sparking across asphalt—
The noise made the rest whip around.
"Wh-what?!"
"Jack!"
"What the—! Enemy!"
Another head exploded.
This one pancaked face-first, body flying.
It bounced like a ball—twice.
Human flesh ain't rubber. Limbs snapped on the second.
"Fuckin' hell!"
Outraged, they drew blades in unison.
Revving toward the khaki bike.
Jin checked the rearview.
"Kill that bastard!"
VROOOOOM!
The overheated engines signaled the road battle's curtain rise.