Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: How to Survive in Fusion Punk
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Jin froze at the voice coming through the terminal.
He glanced around before responding.
"...You've been tailing me this whole time?"
In some drama Jin knew, the reply would've been a mumbled "Not at all." But thankfully, Kalifa didn't go there.
[It's not like that. Just...]
She trailed off for a moment.
Maybe let out a small sigh?
Then she steadied her voice and continued.
[This isn't something for a wired call. Can you come to Anecdote?]
"Right now?"
[A Solo's about to arrive there soon. Grab Baldy and head back with him. That work?]
As Kalifa asked,
Jin's eyes, still scanning the surroundings, locked onto something and slowly came to a stop.
Beyond the crumbled wall. A single CCTV camera dangling from the high ceiling.
He met the lens's blank stare from inside the hemispherical plastic dome and waved.
Whatever it was, a greeting couldn't hurt.
At the same time, a chuckle buzzed in his ear.
[I'll take that as a yes. See you later.]
"Yeah, whatever."
As Jin casually pulled the terminal from his ear,
A hurried voice followed.
[Oh, Jin? About that incoming Solo—he's a bit... unique. Like, don't freak out. Okay, really hanging up now.]
"...What?"
Jin tilted his head, staring at the now-silent terminal, when
Chaotic footsteps echoed from afar—
Soon followed by belated shouts: "Find the boss!" "Catch the raider!"
More of them left after all?
Jin clicked his tongue, glancing back at the noisy group behind him.
Of course, reinforcements weren't required to stay inside the building, so a few more showing up made sense.
With that, he released his grip on Baldy's collar, clapped his hands clean, and stood.
Uk! Euk! Ack! Guk!
Sudden short screams erupted at irregular intervals.
All in different voices. Meaning someone was taking down multiples at blinding speed.
Soon, a final "Ker-heuk!" rang out as someone tumbled head over heels down the stairs.
"......"
The guard, gushing blood from his throat, locked eyes with Jin.
Some doctor had said dying folks go through five stages. Denial to acceptance.
It was flashing through the guard's pupils right now. Past denial for sure, next was anger. What was stage three?
Bargaining? A new logic born?
As Jin pondered,
Squish.
A slipper-clad foot stomped the fallen guard's profile.
Legs covered in thick hair, Hawaiian-style shorts and shirt.
And finally, the face.
A bulky black helmet, but the unique part was the face shield—a display.
Sure enough, the helmet head facing him started typing words.
[Jin? Jin? Jin?]
Three identical question marks in different colors scrolled from right to left, vanishing, then reappearing from the right. Jin blinked at the sight.
What the hell. That's weird. Oh, that's the Solo.
Full understanding in one second.
"Yeah, that's me."
The helmet head clapped: clap clap.
Then displayed more text.
[Nice nice nice to meet you]
"Ow, my eyes hurt. Can't you just do it once?"
As Jin replied, he noticed something and twitched an eyebrow.
The guard—who he'd thought was steadily climbing death's five stages—must've been pissed about his face getting stomped, because he thrust out an arm, face twisted in rage.
Considering the blood he'd lost, it was a last burst of strength.
Or maybe his augmented body made him tough to kill.
What mattered was the pistol in the guy's hand. The trembling barrel aimed between the palm-tree-printed shorts.
Puk.
The guard's eyes bulged.
And just like that, he stopped breathing.
A blade had sunk deep into his temple—expected result.
Jin stared at the helmet head now perched on the guard's back, ass planted firmly.
The movement was a mirage, steps skipped.
Twirling the dagger pulled from the temple like it was nothing.
"Oho."
Jin murmured in admiration.
Once more, LED marquee-style text flew across the display.
[Let's head back let's head back]
Jin smirked.
Shortened it once, at least.
It had been a while since Anecdote.
Cookies even longer.
All sorts of tempting shapes and sizes.
Jin's favorite: chocolate base that oozed marshmallow when split—a s'mores cookie. Sweet first, and it reminded him of chocopies second.
His military days weren't drenched in tear-soaked chocopies that deep, but still, it was a hometown snack icon.
Chocolate plus marshmallow naturally evoked it.
Of course, handmade cookies beat factory snacks any day.
Chomping a big bite, savoring the mouth-filling sweetness, Kalifa watched with a faint sigh.
Her face a touch weary as she spoke.
"...So to sum up, chasing the Rum Pump Pump terror truth led naturally to Kingsgroom. And a BH editor helped you along the way."
Jin just nodded.
No "yeah," lest crumbs fly.
After some chewing room freed up, he said,
"My turn now?"
Kalifa nodded.
"Ask whatever you want."
"Start with him."
Jin's finger pointed at the sofa. Specifically, the helmet head dozing off atop it.
A night-sky screen backdrop with [Zzz...] sluggishly drifting by.
"Eric. Solo, as mentioned. If you hadn't moved first, he'd have torn Kingsgroom apart."
"...What's with the face? A gimmick?"
As Jin eyed the onomatopoeia crossing the starry sky, Kalifa shared the gaze and answered.
"Eric had a lot of taxing implants long ago. Lost and gave up plenty in return—one was his voice. Can't speak, so he expresses himself like that."
She shrugged, looking away.
"Won't accept vocal implants since it's not his real voice. Gotta live with the flashiness. But his skills are solid."
"What's his level...?"
"4."
Whoa.
Jin whistled unwittingly.
Higher than Fenrir.
He'd picked up some knowledge by now.
Level 4's scope was vaguely measurable.
Level 1: rookie or decent fighter.
Level 2: stronger than 1!
Level 3: stronger than 2, veteran!
Hm. Wait.
Does this even mean anything?
About to say 4's better than 3, hold up!
For sure, Level 5 and up were different beasts.
Not on Solo intranet, numbers drop sharply, move by personal codes over money.
Poh once glossed it as crossing some threshold.
But yeah, Level 4 beats 3, trails 5—same old conclusion.
Screw it.
Jin scrunched his nose and said,
"Fine, he's impressive. Next question. How'd we end up meeting like this? Why'd Poh take Baldy?"
Kalifa fell silent at the follow-up.
Face like sorting thoughts—not standing idle, she grabbed a bottle from the shelf, poured over ice, swirled, sipped, then spoke.
"...Remember Edmund Nielsen? Your first gig."
Jin nodded.
He'd already suspected ties to that case.
"And this? The add-on—"
"1 million credits."
Jin answered instantly.
He remembered payouts perfectly.
Bought Gravis with it.
"Right. 1 million credits. I didn't just tack it on because you did good work. Fair trade. Specifically, Edmund Nielsen's corpse value."
With that, she wet her lips with the glass.
Her next words carried a sweet tang.
"Linker work means digging deep sometimes. Info's power. Back then, it was Nielsen's body."
Two months ago, Jin might've tilted his head: a body?
Not now.
He'd seen what techie Jenny pulled from Jeki's eye alone.
So he could guess Kalifa's angle.
Leaked forbidden magic, data chip holding it.
And Berserk.
Worth investigating, right?
Her story confirmed it.
"Didn't hit paydirt at first. Nielsen was small fry, as you know. Most records wiped by Berserk anyway. But hey, only had his corpse. Chased every thin lead. Lots of dead ends, then finally solid info."
Jin leaned toward the table.
"What was it?"
"A merc's disappearance."
"Huh?"
"Codename Runebear. Real name Walter Gray. Told buddies he was a pyrokinetic, but actually a Solad family branch member—weak blood, but awakened kin line. Childhood talent got him family spells. Half-breed talent wasn't standout, so discarded."
What the hell's this?
Jin blanked for a sec, but instinct kicked in. He calmly pieced the scattered events chronologically.
Missing branch merc.
Black-market illegal data chip.
Blazing flames.
Gang punk with pro-level combat vs. a Solo.
Deduction needs imagination spice.
Jin spiced his.
Kalifa's words matched.
"Someone kidnapped Walter, extracted and digitized his brain info. That's what hit the market. Overlayed with Berserk."
Thirsty from the tale? She tilted her glass.
Jin watched, spoke when she set it down.
"Got the gist. So how'd you contact me?"
"Yeah, that part."
She smiled faintly.
The final explanation flowed naturally.
Thinking back.
From Edmund Nielsen's corpse to merc Walter's vanishing.
Kalifa had doggedly chased flimsy leads to map the case.
Not easy—surely she'd ID'd the broker. Naturally, she'd been watching Kingsgroom. Just no hard proof, so biding time.
Then the incident blew up.
Gang in adjacent complex—clear Berserk infection—went on a shooting spree. She bribed cleaners fastest, secured the body.
No direct trade data, but plenty circumstantial: he'd frequented Kingsgroom.
Good enough.
Handed the job to reliable Eric, had Poh hack Kingsgroom CCTV as backup.
What they spotted: familiar profile slapping the must-capture Baldy silly.
"Thought I mis-saw at first. Nope. Called, you picked up."
As Kalifa muttered,
Fanfare blared in Jin's head.
Familiar so far.
Problem: it wasn't once.
They say a second hit hurts worst,
And unexpected ones knock you out.
Dopamine waves crashed; Jin dropped his cookie.
Eyelids fluttered, toes curled in his shoes.
Then the status window popped up.
「(Precursor!) Spreading Will 4」
Find Walter with your client.
⏰ Reward: Perk XP 6,000