No Store Credit

If there was one absolute truth I learned while working at a nowhere little company, it was this: money is brutally hard to save and ridiculously easy to spend.

Back in the real world, I wouldn't even order a single fried chicken without first locking down the perfect timing, lining up every last sick angle, and making absolutely sure I was prepared. Which is probably why, after just two days in the world of EFD, dropping ten million won—prison scrip, granted, but still—gave me a little thrill.

It wasn't wasteful spending. It wasn't about satisfying some personal craving. I hadn't been played for a sucker. It was a pure investment in the future.

Even if raking in thirteen million on my very first expedition had just been beginner's luck, I didn't care. So what if my opening streak was a fluke? What mattered was not breaking, and keeping moving forward. Coming back broke was fine. Someone else beating me to a good item was fine. All that mattered was not dying. If I stayed alive, there was nothing I couldn't do—not with ten years of experience and knowledge, and not with a body that performed this well.

More than that, I'm lucky there are so many Neutral Zones along the way.

Getting from Cell Block H-050 to the Cell Block H-088 district meant passing through quite a few zones, and I crossed them while carefully observing the unspoken rules of the prison I'd picked up over the past week.

First: never use a cell block corridor that hasn't declared neutrality. Everything's connected like an anthill anyway, so there are always other routes. Second: even in a cell block that's declared neutrality, always travel through the common areas only. Third: whenever you pass through another zone, make your destination and intentions crystal clear.

Follow those rules and even being an Orange didn't bother most people much. That said, I couldn't help the watchful eyes that stuck to me until I left my own cell block's territory.

The ones who ambushed me must have used the clout of that so-called Family to slip past those watchful eyes and sneak in.

If you belonged to an organization big enough to run a commercial district the size of Cell Block H-088, you could walk around with your shoulders squared, sure. From my perspective, though, it was a so what? and nothing more. I wasn't here to fight turf wars with a bunch of criminals. My only goal was to see the end of EFD.

I didn't have a status window handing me a clear purpose and direction, or some great being's revelation encompassing this world. But I had a feeling I was supposed to do it anyway. A premonition that I had to personally put an end to this game I'd never managed to finish in ten years.

Lost in that thought, I crossed I don't know how many more neutrality-declared cell blocks. Before I realized it, I had reached Cell Block H-088, the same one I'd visited last time.

Fortunately, there was no checkpoint blocking the corridor itself, inspecting everyone who came through. If anything, given the hour, most of the merchants who'd finished their late-night business were either asleep, or just waking up and too busy prepping for the day's trade to notice much of anything. If they hadn't been criminals, if this hadn't been a prison, they would have been ordinary working people you'd see anywhere in society.

If they'd wanted that ordinary life, they shouldn't have committed crimes in the first place.

People who'd openly pissed off the government or a corporation and gotten thrown in here unfairly—those I could at least feel a shred of sympathy for. But most of them were genuine scum who'd inflicted mental, physical, or financial harm on someone.

I passed inmates already reeking of harsh moonshine and cigarette smoke this early in the morning and headed for the familiar special merchant district. Besides Ted Chan, Lee Sena, Vladimir Borshch, and the rest, a considerable number of famous, skilled inmates were clustered in this zone. Meetings with the others could wait. I hurried over and pushed open the door to Lee Sena's Cute & Lovely Tool Shop.

If she was the eccentric Lee Sena I knew, she would absolutely have done a thorough job on the ten million won's worth of work I'd commissioned.

Ding-a-ling!

"I'm here to pick up my order."

"In a bit of a rush, I take it?"

Footsteps came pounding from the back as if she'd been waiting for me. I wordlessly held out my hand. Lee Sena emerged from the inner workshop with hollow, exhausted eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and casually tossed me a small backpack-shaped metal object. I caught it, and a weight that easily exceeded a sack of rice drew a small grunt from me.

"It's a Modular Exo-Suit matching the specs, materials, durability, and price you paid for. Try not to let the guards notice it, if you can help it."

"Did you properly apply the special coating that can evade the prison security AI's scans?"

"Of course. And I made it as compact as possible for portability, so if you stash it in a pouch or a small backpack, no third party will ever figure out what it is. Honestly, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say most of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠material cost went into making that special coating."

"Nice."

I fingerprint-authenticated the metal object and first detached the small parts that could be worn on both wrists. A full-body exo-suit would have been too heavy and too conspicuous, so I'd specifically asked her to make a portable exo-suit that could be broken down and used as individual parts. If she'd built it as requested, even wearing every piece would only mean attachments at the ankles, knees, wrists, and spine—nothing that would stand out that much.

"See? You should've bought a few self-defense Pretties like I told you to."

She scolded me through a long, stretching yawn, then naturally started brewing coffee at the machine. I ignored her and fitted the parts onto my wrists and ankles, then moved around lightly, getting a feel for them.

Maximum output, being generous, was maybe a little over twice the muscle strength of an average adult man. It wasn't some ultra-premium custom job I'd dumped hundreds of millions into. The whole point had been to get it made as fast as possible while keeping the cost-performance ratio high, so I figured I should just be satisfied with this.

The parts aren't too thick, so if I hide them under my clothes they won't show at all.

The biggest downside of gear like this was always the battery, but there was nothing to be done about that. I'd either have to pick up a portable battery pack separately, or make do with energy-related items I could find in the Darkzone.

"Slurp. Still, it's a little unusual. Most inmates who make a bit of money off Special Duty want to enhance their innate abilities, so they head over to that insufferable Ted Chan's shop. Over there, a few million won will get you one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or two simple implants."

"Implants are more of a last resort for me."

"Don't most people think of them as the starting line? If you want to cover for an inferior body and intellect, implants are essential."

She wasn't wrong, but I couldn't agree. Game characters could slap on implants without any side effects, but the real me had to approach that territory with caution.

It's not like I can casually research builds and theorycraft the optimal implant setup the way I would in a game.

That was when Lee Sena suddenly jerked her chin at me, casual as anything. Without even turning around, I immediately mule-kicked the guy trying to come through the door and sent him flying back out.

"Urgh?!"

The bell clanged furiously, scraping at my eardrums, but I paid it no mind and snatched a Pretty claw hammer off the shelf.

"We don't do credit at this shop."

"I'm not looking to buy."

"You picked it up barehanded without permission, so it's already secondhand."

Truly revolutionary logic. I understood merchant ethics well enough, so I decided to let that one slide for now. How expensive could a single claw hammer possibly be, after all? That's what I would have thought, if the hammer hadn't suddenly started glowing like a magic wand, going beep-boop and shouting, Let's go defeat some villains together!

Damn it. Crazy Clock was already reacting, throwing its weight around. The fact that it had hacked the circuits of a hammer that had been a new member of the family for less than five seconds told you everything about how obsessed it was with the pecking order.

"You son of a bitch, you got some nerve crawling in here like you own the place!"

"Fuck him up!"

"Pretty says violence is bad, kids."

Beep-boop!

I slammed Pretty into the skull of one of the guys bursting back through the door, no mercy whatsoever. True to its pedigree as the traditional guaranteed-crit skull-cracker, Pretty completely transcended its innate limitations and, as a proper fruit of civilization, demonstrated how to pulverize the enemies of mankind. Specifically: the instant it hit the guy's head, it erupted with a crackling burst of sparks, loud as beans popping over a lightning strike.

"Eee-giii-giii-giiiik?!"

Pretty's power—complete with armor penetration (concussion) and magic penetration (shock)—couldn't be adequately described as merely impressive.

"Holy shit."

EFD had a few similar weapons, but most of them were two-handed large hammers or maces you had to swing with both hands. There was nothing like this one-handed shock hammer with a grip and impact that felt this damn good. EFD loadouts ultimately came down to extreme cost-efficiency, and builds split completely depending on whether you went two-handed or one-handed. Which made me like it even more. If it would just stop screaming beep-boop so viciously every time I swung it, it'd be perfect.

Beep-boop!

"Eek! Gik?!"

"Your vocal training's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not done yet. Half air, half sound, you little shit!"

Use your throat and you'll wreck it in no time. With no other choice, I prescribed one dose of Pretty for the sake of the other guy's throat health, then leisurely slipped past the blade the next one charged in with. I'd just fitted the portable Modular Exo-Suit, after all. Perfect chance to test its performance.

I pretended to dodge the wild slashes a few more times, then in one motion reached out, grabbed him by the collar, and hoisted him into the air. This body's natural strength wasn't bad, but the mechanical assist made a real difference. I barely felt any strain in my muscles.

"Cough! Khack! You son of a—!"

"What's that bald bastard gonna do, tattle to your boss? Say a strong, handsome hyung slapped you around a few times?"

"You... cough! You know this is Gwangsu Family turf, and you're still pulling this?!"

"Didn't know, actually."

If there'd been even a single line about them in the EFD lore books, a hardcore veteran like me would have at least dug through my memory. But I was genuinely hearing about the Gwangsu Family for the first time.

"Judging by the organization name, though, it looks like it was founded by a fellow Korean. Given that, maybe we should wrap this up reasonably, out of ethnic solidarity?"

"Kehk! Khack! H-hyung-nim can't touch the merchants' autonomy around here, but... anyone who muddies the water, he wrecks for sure! You're fucked now!"

"Wrong. The one who's fucked now is you."

The exact technique a villain once used on a billionaire playboy in a bat costume during his secret heroics. A devastating spine-breaker, snapping the lower back over the knee in a single motion.

Crrrack!

"AAAAAAARGH!"

"Ted Chan's shop is about thirty meters that way if you crawl. If you crawl fast, you might still make it."

I dusted my hands off neatly and walked out of the wrecked shop with Pretty and the portable Modular Exo-Suit. I had no idea what the hell I was even doing first thing in the morning.

"Customer! I keep telling you, this shop does not do credit!"

"Then let's start accepting it today!"

After impressing upon the persistently clinging Lee Sena the importance of customer service, I headed straight back to Cell Block H-050.

Crazy Clock. The portable Modular Exo-Suit. And Pretty. I had everything I needed.

Now it was time to go back into the Darkzone.