Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: How to Survive in Fusion Punk
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Jin was quick on the uptake.
It came from thirty years of living in South Korea.
A country so attuned to social cues that they even coined the term "nunchi culture"—hyper-sensitive to reading the room.
For instance, in a survey about "the type of new hire you'd want to work with," the honest employee who owns up to mistakes ranked dead last at just 25% preference, while the quick-witted one took first place with a whopping 67%.
(For the record, second place went to the one who's great at greetings.)
In a society that demands savvy yet polite types from the get-go, making a living off others' money is no easy feat.
And yet, the people of South Korea pull it off!
Anyway, Jin, as a proud son of that soil, hadn't lost his roots entirely. Sure, his manners stat had taken a beating from life's storms, but his instinct for reading situations was still sharp as ever.
So he pieced together the scene in no time.
The guy sprawled on the ground was the seller.
The masked one was the buyer.
Easy enough.
The problem was the scar-faced thug with the rat-like eyes.
Acting like the artifact was his all along, and the seller cowering in fear... Yeah, he had to be the boss.
Case closed.
They'd swiped the goods.
Jin had gone from clueless bystander to fully briefed spectator.
Not that his offhand comment earned him any friendly looks.
"Thief, you say?"
Henri scowled at Jin, then flashed a savage grin as he raised his foot.
"This one's the thief. Right? Isn't he?"
"Guhhh—"
A muffled groan escaped Michel's lips as his head was crushed underfoot.
Yet even then, he clung to the case in his hand, his desperation to protect it shining through.
Finally, he stammered out a response.
"I... found it myself. You bastard..."
"Ha!"
Henri snorted in disbelief.
But only for a moment.
His eyes turned murderous as he pressed down harder.
"Just one question. How much were you getting? How much for a lowlife like you to stab me in the back?"
Even Jin held his breath here.
Kalifa's talk of "emotions" flashed in his mind.
Unconsciously, his fist clenched tight.
Staring at Michel's stubbornly sealed lips.
Come on, spill it!
Did his silent plea get through?
Michel finally cracked under the pain, blurting out in a frenzy.
"...Five billion! Five billion credits!"
In that instant.
Henri's face went blank.
Jin staggered like he'd witnessed cosmic horror.
The masked figure said nothing.
"What?"
"I told you, damn it! Five billion!"
"...Is it true?"
Henri turned to the masked one.
No answer came, but he took the silence as confirmation.
Mad laughter erupted.
"Ahahaha!"
Laughing so hard his uvula showed, Henri snapped his head forward.
"Michel! Michel! Michel! Gotta say, I respect it now. Yeah! Takes that kind of guts to be Sweet Dream's number two. Ahaha! Five billion! Good job, good job, Michel!"
The man he'd just been squashing like a bug now got lavish praise. Grinning ear to ear, Henri eyed the masked figure.
"Deal's back on. So, the five billion? Where's my money?"
This asshole?
Why's it your money?)
Jin, barely regaining his composure, glared daggers.
At last, the masked figure spoke.
A voice distorted with faint noise, gender ambiguous.
"Goods first."
"Who said anything about handing it over? Just look."
The masked one touched their temple.
A chip popped out with a click, which they held up.
"A credit chip good for five billion withdrawal from Blacknet. Scan it if you don't trust me."
"...No need to tell me twice."
Henri stared at the chip.
Scanning it from afar, no doubt. Soon, he nodded, ecstasy on his face.
"Perfect."
Then he slammed his foot down again—
This time crushing Michel's hand. A scream tore out.
"Aaaagh!"
Resistance ended there. No one keeps a fist clenched with shattered hand bones.
"Shut up and get lost."
As Henri booted the writhing Michel aside and reached for the fallen case—
Gravis roared.
Bang—!!
The bullet sliced the night air, shredding below Henri's elbow. Simultaneously, the masked figure leaped like a panther, rolling to snag the case.
Perfect division of labor, like they'd planned it.
But no.
Jin had targeted Henri; the masked one, Jin. Same timing, synced by surprise.
As Jin swung his gun to finish Henri but redirected toward the masked figure—
"You fucking bastard!!!"
Suddenly engulfed in flames, Henri swung his fire-replaced arm wide—
Blobs of fire spewed forth, sweeping the front.
Masked figure first, then Jin.
BOOM!
The compressed flames hit the ground, triggering chain explosions.
The road choked with smoke in seconds.
A blue flash gleamed within.
Thud!
Jin's fist burst through the haze, slamming Henri's gut.
The guy skipped across the pavement like a stone, howling as he slapped the ground.
Scrrrt—
Carving furrows with his fingers to brake. By then, his body looked like a human-flame hybrid.
Jin recognized it instantly.
Pyrokinetic.
A psychic wielding fire.
Why does it have to look so damn cool?)
Jin grimaced—he'd once debated picking [Psychic] as his second perk.
Henri rose, bellowing.
"You dare... my arm...! Fuck! I'll crush you!"
Did psychic powers feed on emotion? The flames engulfing him intensified.
Without hesitation, he rocketed forward, just like in the movies.
Propelled by explosions at his back, the flaming human wrapped Jin's waist and arched him skyward.
Jin braced his legs, but the explosive thrusts lifted his feet clean off.
As they shot up, Jin hammered the head clamped around his waist with elbows amid searing pain.
"Let! Go! Of! Me!"
But his vision flipped before the flame-head cracked.
Blood rushing to his skull.
Sky and earth inverted.
Henri accelerated again.
CRASH!!!!
Red and blue tangled lights met the ground.
Concrete shards flew.
A bit from the blast epicenter, Henri coughed dryly.
Flames visibly waning.
Yet he lived—using Jin as a cushion on impact.
Meant to drop him midair, but the head blows rattled his judgment.
Impossible for a pyrokinetic, whose physical resistance spikes while flaming.
"Monster bastard. Don't know who you are, but you're done..."
Shoulders trembling, Henri took a deep breath.
Arm in pieces, overexcited.
Overdrawn power; flames nearly out.
Steadying his ragged breaths, as he tried to rise—
Thump.
A vise grip seized his nape.
"Kek!"
Henri flailed airborne.
A voice like grinding metal followed.
"...Thought I was dead for real, you prick."
What he saw and felt next was simple.
Gale-force wind blinding him. Ground rushing up.
BOOM!!
A chokeslam to the face—not the back of the head—split the pavement.
Flames died on his convulsing body. Blood gushed from the right forearm where the substitute vanished.
"Huff, huff."
Jin, eyes bloodshot, watched at last, exhaling hot breaths.
Plummeting rocket-like from 30 meters, vision still spun. Back wouldn't straighten—joints wrecked.
He didn't know his scalp hung loose from the occiput. Unbearable wounds.
Without the dopamine rush from Henri's EXP fireworks muting the pain, he'd have collapsed.
Feels double the chameleon beastman last time.
...2,000 XP or so?
Musing, Jin pushed off his knee.
His gaze dropped to the ground with his tilting torso. Soon, approaching shoes entered view.
Despite exhaustion, Jin looked up and smirked.
"Why didn't you bolt?"
There stood the masked figure.
Not masked anymore—the mask and hood burned off.
Black bob cut, icy pale-blue eyes.
The ice-queen vibe woman spoke slowly. Real voice, no noise.
"Nothing to bolt with."
"Huh?"
She snapped open the case from her pocket instead of answering.
True to her word—empty.
Jin blinked in daze. Then a dying rasp from nearby.
"...I have it."
Michel.
Curled like a grub where Henri had kicked him.
She turned, walking toward him.
Jin stumbled after, thinking.
She's too light on her feet. Can't match in this state. What now?
EXP fulfilled. Time to pick that pre-planned perk?
As he pondered seriously—
"H-Hey, deal's not done yet, right?"
Michel addressed the approaching woman.
"Goods first."
Same reply as before.
Michel bit his lip but knew he had no choice, pulling a ring from his pocket.
Placed it delicately on his palm.
Graceful curves, ornate script, eerie red glow captivating.
That's the artifact?
Looks legit. But kinda creepy.
Jin squinted at it.
Meanwhile, he fidgeted fingers, toes, joints unseen, waiting for recovery.
"...Knew you'd pull this, so I stashed it earlier. Figured it'd be in the case since I gripped it so hard."
Michel chuckled weakly, continuing slowly.
"Three billion. Kill that blood-soaked bastard over there, take the goods. That's all I need."
"...?"
Jin cocked his head.
What the hell's this idiot saying in front of the woman he tried to ditch?
But looking closer—eyes glazed, burns everywhere. Blast must've rattled his brain too.
Still, hoping she'd bite—
A cold voice pierced Jin's ear as he straightened his uncooperative back.
"Not what we're after. Features match perfectly, but the mana leaking out is low-grade. Nearly fooled me till I saw it up close. Probably a replica from back then. Sigh. Told you I didn't want to come out."
She sighed faintly and turned away.
No lingering. Michel freaked.
"Hey! Where you going, you bitch! Hey! Hey! Hey! Do you know what I went through for you! Hey! You son of a—"
The cursing cut short.
A dagger sprouted from his forehead, blade buried deep.
Even Jin in his state couldn't have dodged that godlike throw.
Breath held, watching silently—
Her voice drifted back as she walked away.
"You. Solo, right?"
Not expecting an answer; she continued before Jin could speak.
"Take the ring."
"You sure?"
"Tell your client instead."
Her pale-blue eyes flashed cold.
"We're letting it slide today. Keep pushing, and the city government's blade will find you."