Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: How to Live in Fusion Punk
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Learning is an endless process of self-cultivation.
Intelligent beings never stop growing as they become aware, perceive, and change through experience and training.
It's a noble ritual where mere cells like humans define themselves as proper entities and forge themselves to become better beings.
Jin had none of that.
For Jin, unlocking a star meant skipping the arduous learning process entirely and having refined knowledge hammered straight into his brain.
The ultimate form of practical, compressed knowledge transfer. Even the top instructors couldn't dream of this.
The problem was that the recipient could die from it.
Just like right now.
Ow, my head!
Jin let out a guttural groan amid the flood of alien knowledge.
It felt like someone was arbitrarily kneading the most fragile part of his body.
What the hell? Why?
Wasn't it fine during the mana rampage?
Even in pain, Jin felt wronged.
Of course, that was just a misconception.
Back then, the adrenaline surging from the dire situation had dulled the pain, and the self-destructive imagery of the mana rampage had gradually swallowed the agony.
He hadn't been pain-free; he just hadn't realized he was in pain.
So Jin, who had let his guard down thinking it'd be the same this time, got hit hard.
At least the silver lining was that this pain didn't last long.
About 20 seconds, give or take?
After that short but intense suffering, Jin clutched his ringing head and hauled himself up.
Anyway, I learned it! Blink!
Afterward, he flashed around the cramped motel room here and there.
Confirming that the knowledge etched in his mind applied immediately in reality, Jin collapsed onto the bed.
This is really the limit now.
Mentally drained, he closed his eyes without even washing up.
Surprisingly, even Downtown had a city hall.
You might think there couldn't be a government office in the abandoned 40s districts.
But this was a belated measure by the city government to oversee certain districts that had grown through self-reliance to an undeniable scale—not all 40s areas, just some.
Naturally, the evaluations from all sides were rock bottom.
To the civil servants, it was one of the most unwanted postings they could get, a place they'd refuse even if it killed them.
To the locals, it looked like the city was reaching late into their rice bowl.
As a result, apathy and corruption spread through the organization like air. Formally a government body, it was practically just another massive gang.
The fixer had said this was the angle to hit.
"In this business, nothing can't be bought with money."
Cackling as he hammered the keyboard, the man had a chaotic screen straight out of a spy flick scrolling with new lines by the second.
Peering in, Jin saw it was a missing persons list.
What's with all these?
True to Downtown form, people vanishing without a trace—most likely dead—weren't few and far between.
"Male, 20s, missing 3+ years, clean record, no crime involvement..."
Muttering to himself as he layered filters, the fixer looked like someone shopping online, inputting size, color, price upfront. Jin let out a dry chuckle.
"...Well, plenty of similar profiles. Let's go with this one."
The man clicked a name, and a new popup appeared.
A face in his mid-20s.
Plump and unassuming overall, except for the mechanical eye on one side.
But that lasted only a moment.
A few keyboard clacks later...
Suddenly, a decently handsome guy stared back in bewilderment.
Jin scratched his cheek.
That's why I took the photo right away.
Should've hit a salon first if I'd known.
Then the fixer spoke up.
"Want a name change? Otherwise, it's Jose Martinez."
"Ugh, no. Make it Jin, Jin."
"...Jin, huh. Last name? No preference, I can randomize."
"Whatever."
Jin nodded—Jin was enough for him anyway.
The fixer wrapped up quickly.
"Alright. You're Jin Evernight now. Sounds pretty damn cool... Anyway, card or cash?"
At the moment of reckoning, Jin squeezed his eyes shut.
"...Cash."
"3.5 million credits."
"What?! Wasn't it 3 million?"
"It was. Until the city hall jacked up mainnet access fees for the personal data DB. I'm just a subcontractor. Can't be helped."
Jin's face darkened.
3 million had required mental prep; 500k more on top?
City hall bastards! Let illegals live too!
Roaring inwardly, Jin reluctantly reached into his pocket like he was swallowing bitter mustard.
Pulled out five bundles of bills, stacked them on the prepped money bag—
His handing hand trembled like a palsy patient.
"...Sorry to the guy receiving this."
The fixer said it, but pocketed the cash anyway.
With a curt farewell.
"Take care. Jin."
Jin squatted on the ground, staring silently at the ID in his hands.
3.5 million for this little thing.
Practically gutted his funds.
No wonder square-and-straight stuff is no good.
Sighing, Jin even cursed the status window while at it.
Now down to 2 million left.
After helmet, fuel, mags, food, lodging—exactly that much remained.
Not a small amount, but no more of that rich money scent when unzipping his bag. Kinda depressing.
That's why people don't cherish what they have.
Scolding himself for briefly resenting the great Lord Money, Jin gazed at the ID with misty eyes.
Still, not entirely sad.
Finally, at long last, somehow, ultimately.
Fake or not, he had an identity now.
Maybe that's why. Though he hated to admit it, belonging somewhere didn't feel half bad, Jin thought.
Even if it was damn Downtown.
Then.
"...Big dick? Big dick, right?"
Some voice made Jin twitch his brow.
Who calls someone that instead of using the fine name Jin?
Scowling as he looked up, a figure stood backlit by the sun.
A grimy face, apocalyptic fashion from scavenged rags.
His eyes locked on Jin with certainty.
"It's you, right? It's me. Jeff. Ring a bell?"
Dropping to eye level with a bright greeting, but Jin drew a blank. Who...?
Maybe the bad breath threw him off.
"We know each other?"
"Duh. I shared meals with you a few times. Not much, but still. Anyway, yeah? You cried every night."
Straight to the gut punch.
Memory flickered vaguely.
Recalling the most painful, horrific period of his life.
Jeff.
Seemed like someone from his homeless days, but still fuzzy.
And for good reason—back then, in Downtown's first 1-2 months starving and hypothermic, Jin was half-beast.
"..."
Melancholy hitting, Jin pushed off his knees to stand.
"We close?"
"Eh... You weren't big on talking. It was whatever. I wasn't right in the head from the cold either."
Jeff scratched his nape, standing too.
"Then poof, gone. Thought you died. Damn, you cleaned up nice. Wasn't sure at first—didn't remember you looking like this. Kid's got it all top to bottom. Anyway, good seeing you."
Arm out for a shake, but eyeing Jin's clean hand vs. his own, he awkwardly clasped behind his back.
"Ahem. Catch you later. Stay safe."
"Hold up."
Jin stopped Jeff turning away.
"Rum Pump Pump? My treat."
"...?"
Jeff blinked blankly, then shook his head.
"Nah, I'm good. Eating fine."
"Come on, don't hold back. Let's go."
"For real, I'm good."
Recalling starving days, Jin pushed again, but rejection.
The unexpected tug-of-war dragged on.
Come on.
No way.
Hey, lobster too?
Ow, no!
Finally, Jeff yelled.
"Rum Pump Pump sucks!"
"Huh?"
Too out-of-left-field; Jin blinked.
Jeff waved it off.
"Too spicy, salty, sour, sweet—no balance. Hate it. No go."
"Beggar complaining about food?"
"And you don't need to buy—I've been eating better lately."
Jin eyed him skeptically.
"You?"
"Yeah. Wanna know?"
"Spill."
Jin jerked his chin; Jeff crossed arms.
"Check it. Purists opened a church in North Downtown. Church, yeah? Only they think like that. Whatever god, who cares? Point is, free meals."
Pretend to pray, get food! Jin tilted his head.
In Downtown? Such suckers?
But you can't dismiss human kindness lightly.
And if Purists based on classic fantasy humans, maybe more humanity there.
"Don't believe? Come eat one."
Jin pondered Jeff's words.
Why not?
Purists—heard the name, never met.
Chance for intel.
Worst case, test new Blink.
So Jin asked.
"Big portions?"
"Huge, and tasty."
"...Let's go."
Left Manticore at motel lot, followed Jeff to North Downtown.
A real church.
Inside matched Jin's common sense.
Pew—proper name, but most called church or music hall chairs—the benches lined a prayer room ending in a wide platform.
Difference: instead of a cross, a statue of a woman embracing a water jar.
A man introducing himself as priest said it was Nephra, goddess of mercy.
"Welcome, brother. May Mother's embrace enfold you."
Jin listened with interest at first, then hunger nudged him.
"So... real food?"
"Of course. Follow me."
Downstairs, Jin saw people faces-in-plates.
All ragged, like his crew a year ago, huddled.
"Eat your fill, then up to prayer room. Share Mother's mercy."
Snapping to, Jin held a plate, traversing the line.
Self-serve even.
Hallelujah!
Or whatever.
"Told ya. Awesome, right?"
Jeff elbow-nudged; Jin, mouth full of quadruple-stacked pizza, mumbled through puffed cheeks.
"What do they have left then?"
"Heard rich believers. Food's imported from outside Downtown."
"Insane. Rum Pump Pump half this good would've ruled."
Jin gorged till his belly bulged, then ascended faithfully.
Heard the sermon mumbo-jumbo, prayed sorta,
Parted pumped for tomorrow.
Downtown had hope!
Thrilled Jin returned next day, and the next.
「(Sudden!) No Such Thing as Free」
📍 Objective: Escape the factory.
🎁 Reward: Perk XP 5,000
And he got nabbed.
Kidnapped.