A Damn Transmigration

"Overtime again. Overtime."

The dead of night, when the public transit had already stopped running. I could have hailed a taxi, but I decided to save the money and walk home instead.

"Well, at least it's Friday. No wait—it's Saturday now, isn't it."

Jinwoo, you don't have much talent, but you've got grit. Keep at it. Good research will come of it.

That was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what my mentor had told me back when I first joined the pharmaceutical company. I could never decide whether it was a compliment or a curse.

No talent, but lots of grit. This wasn't some ditch-digging job, you know. You need skill to make good drugs, don't you?

And yet, following my mentor's advice and grinding away at my research with pure stubbornness, I started noticing things I'd never seen before. Like the energy drink I was chugging right now—how the compounds in it reacted inside my body, little things like that.

"Yeah. Grit is good."

So what if it ground my body down? A good drug would make the world a better place, wouldn't it? That sense of mission was the whole reason I dragged myself to the pharma company every day.

Ring ring—!

The familiar door of my one-room apartment opened, and the silent darkness swallowed me whole. It would've been nice if even one cute cat came to greet me—but I could barely look after myself, let alone afford to keep a cat.

I showered quickly, then sat down at my computer desk. I'd pumped so much caffeine into my body that sleep was out of the question. Besides, there was the game I'd left downloading before work.

Ghost of Cyberpunk.

It had been infamous at launch for its bugs and optimization disasters, but after a massive overhaul it was now hailed as a masterpiece. Best of all, it was supposedly built for modding.

For someone like me—who would never, ever play a game without mods—that was welcome news. Office workers just don't have time, you know? I wanted to skip the boring stretches and play at full speed.

"Finally done downloading."

Most mods used the same injection programs, so downloading and applying them had gone smoothly enough. I set the game path and pressed the launch button.

"What the—?"

Oh, right. I'd forgotten to clear out the mods from the games I'd played before. I didn't think much of it, though. If something broke, I could just delete the mods and move on. More than anything, I wanted to play right now. Starting a new game is always exciting—and I knew absolutely nothing about this one, which made it even more so.

"Alright, let's go!"

The mood-shattering message popped up, and I heaved a deep sigh. "Fine, yeah, I did install way too many."

I hit the exit button. But the computer stuttered and lurched as if it were lagging. I spam-clicked the exit button over and over.

"I paid how much for this rig?! It lags on THIS?!"

I grabbed the monitor and shook it in frustration, but obviously it wasn't going to answer me. Deflated, I slumped back into my chair and stared at the screen.

The message filled every inch of the monitor. "Son of a—"

The curse slipped out on its own. All I'd wanted was to relax with a game after work. "Why can't I ever be happy?!!"

Crackle.

Static spread across the entire screen. "Whoa there—?"

In that instant, my hand shot forward. Or at least, that's what it felt like. "GYAAAAAH—!!"

My whole body was sucked into the monitor.

********

"Hurk—bleegh!"

When I opened my eyes, my stomach was churning in a way I couldn't put into words. Was it all that caffeine? No—this was on a completely different level.

This rotten stench. It was the smell from back in my undergrad days, when I botched the temperature controls and my lab rats died and decomposed.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Wh… what the…?"

Yes. I had woken up in a pool of corpses. Parting whatever the hell was floating around me, I swam my way out.

Sniff, sniff.

The reek of decay clung to every inch of me, and my whole body shook. "Where am I?"

Crouched in a corner, hugging myself, I tried to think. I calmly pieced together what had happened.

"Transmigration?"

The classic webnovel-and-webtoon setup. Possessed into a game, possessed into a novel—that sort of thing.

"A dream… maybe?"

No. No matter how I turned it over, this was far too real to be a dream. I could feel my body dying. Honestly, if I kept going like this, I was going to die.

"Where the hell am I supposed to go?"

I had to survive. On nothing but that one stubborn scrap of willpower, I started walking.

See? I told you your grit is second to none.

My mentor's voice rang in my head. Whether this was a dream or something else, one thing was certain—I had to live.

*****

Apparently I'd fallen into the groundwater system. As I made my way through the drainage tunnels, the shivering in my body gradually subsided. Not that my condition was good—after soaking in a mound of corpses, feeling fine would have been the stranger outcome.

After walking for what felt like forever, I found a ladder and climbed it. "Come on, open, please."

With a bit of force, the manhole cover slid aside. I hauled myself up and out. "Th… this is…"

Definitely not South Korea. More like a Bangladeshi slum—except considerably more advanced. Neon signs glowed overhead, and even though it was the dead of night, people were moving through the streets.

"What's with that dumbass?"

"Pfft—! Look at that guy. Like a drowned rat!"

"Then why don't you go over and comfort him, honey? He's hung, isn't he?"

"As if. Customer's here."

"Right, go shake that ass."

It wasn't Korean, but I understood every word. "You lunatic. Put some clothes on, will you?"

A man with a mohawk and a face that was entirely machine tossed me a rag. "Thank you," I managed.

"You stink, so don't come near me, freak."

Harsh words—but a warm soul underneath. By the way, it turned out I'd been naked this whole time. I'd been too out of it to even notice.

"So what do I do now?"

I had absolutely nothing. "Status window!" I shouted, just in case. Nothing happened. Isn't a status window the national rule of game transmigration?

Grrroowl—!

On top of everything, my stomach started growling.

I walked for a long while. The place I'd crawled out of seemed to be the nicer part of town—the further I went, the worse the security got.

"What're you looking at?"

"Piss off."

"You wanna die too?"

Murder on the open street. I couldn't wrap my head around it.

"Look at the state of that guy—he's gotta be from the Upper District."

"Heh heh. Yeah, looks like it. Corps must've stripped his cyber parts and dumped him."

The killers cackled as they tore the machinery off the corpse. "Dead man walking anyway. Just leave him."

"Yeah, after soaking in that contaminated water, his organs would've bloated and burst."

Fucking animals.

If I'd been some overpowered protagonist, I'd have charged in and cut them all down. But right now I was a naked man draped in a rag. In a word: nobody. A worthless nobody.

Deeper in, a homeless encampment came into view. "Ugh! God, what is that SMELL?!"

A homeless man who'd been sleeping peacefully glared up at me and snapped. "Get the hell out of here!"

He hurled whatever he could grab at me, driving me off. And so I fled in the most pathetic way imaginable—until I stopped in front of one particular shop.

A silver-haired woman was smoking a cigarette outside, her eyes fixed on me. "Upper District?"

She flicked her ash to the ground and crossed her arms. "Hmm. Your info doesn't even ping. Looks like they stripped all your hardware."

"Um, excuse me—"

I tried to ask for help, but the words died in my throat. Judging by the lawlessness of this place, there didn't seem to be a single soul worth trusting.

"You've been through hell. Surviving it is a miracle in itself. Come inside. Get washed up, and have some hot stew."

The woman stepped into the shop. Can I really trust her?

When I stood there hesitating, she poked her head back out. "I get it. You can't trust anyone. Come in whenever you've made up your mind."

I agonized in the doorway for several minutes. If I kept wandering out here, I'd either starve to death or get beaten to death for stinking. If death was coming either way, then gambling on this woman was the right call.

"Sorry for the intrusion."

The moment I stepped inside, the nature of the place became obvious. Something like a dentist's chair, surrounded by machinery—cyberdoc equipment—with mechanical arms laid out across the counter above.

The woman was nodding along to something on the TV. "Bathroom's on the left. Go wash up."

"Th—thank you. For this kindness, I'll—"

"Ah-ah. Go wash first. You reek."

"Yes, ma'am."

Scrub, scrub.

Praying the filth and stench would wash away with the water, I showered. When I came out, the woman spoke up. "Cleaned up, you're actually decent-looking. Clothes are on the table—put them on."

"Thank you."

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wanted to be suspicious of such over-the-top kindness, but this was no time to be picky. Once I was dressed, she gestured toward the dentist-style chair.

"Sit. I need to run a system check and make sure your body's all right."

"I'm fine."

Because if I lie down in that thing, I'm pretty sure I'm leaving without my organs.

"You soaked in contaminated water—of course you need checking. Even more so if your cyber parts were stripped."

"My cyber parts weren't stripped. Because I don't have any."

"Hmm. Shock wipe your memory, did it?"

The woman drew closer. A rich scent of roses drifted from her hair.

"Wait a second. You don't even have a cyber socket?"

She fiddled with the back of my neck, then said, "Don't tell me—you're a completely unaugmented human?"

"Uh, yes."

"What! Then that 'hung' thing was actually true?!"

"I'm sorry—what?"

"Nothing! Forget you heard that!"

She cleared her throat awkwardly and held out her hand. "I'm Lucia. I work as a cyberdoc here."

"I'm Yoo Jinwoo. Thank you for your kindness."

"You came back alive from that contaminated water. Of course I'm going to show you some kindness."

"I want to repay you, Ms. Lucia. Please, use me! I'll do anything!"

"E-ehem. 'Anything,' he says. You're awfully forward. What exactly do you expect me to order you around with?"

"Whatever you ask. I mean it!"

"I'll think about it. Anyway—you must be starving, right? Let me get some food ready."

Lucia headed for the kitchen. She was truly, genuinely kind.

Meanwhile, I took a look around what I supposed was Lucia's workshop—her cyberdoc's workshop, anyway. All manner of drugs lay scattered across the workbench.

"This is…"

The moment I picked up one of the drugs—

Ding—!

A system window!

A holographic panel shimmered into being right before my eyes. I picked up a drug glowing with a faint blue light.

"Uh… yeah. Yes."

Ah. So it's not a one-click thing.

From there, I followed the drug combination guide step by step. Lucia's own tools were right there on the bench, so it went smoothly—and compared to the research I'd done at the pharma company, the guide itself was a piece of cake.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Huh?

The status window and system windows I'd thought didn't exist had just activated. And I knew it, with utter certainty: with this drug manufacturing ability—

I could survive in this world, no matter what it took!

"What on earth did you just make?!"

All the ruckus from my manufacturing had sent Lucia running back in. She stared at the drug in my hands as if analyzing it. "Good lord. What—what ARE you?! This is incredible!"

"Huh?"

Lucia threw her arms around me in delight. Her soft chest felt wonderful. It was as if all the misery I'd suffered today was being washed away, drop by drop.