Adaptation Complete

As soon as we stepped fully out of the building, even more cops were waiting. Roughly fifteen in total, backed by two police vans bristling with heavy machine guns. Anyone would've thought we were raiding some stronghold.

Im Sua flashed a hand signal, loading all her team into the vans before coming to my side.

"No knight with you, young master? Shall I drive?"

"Cops are being awfully nice today."

"The people's sturdy staff has to be polite, right?"

"Fine, then."

"Yes, sir. Leave it to me."

Im Sua gave a playful salute before hopping into the driver's seat.

Our first stop was a remote corner of the Namdong Industrial Complex—a slum-turned-violent gang paradise, despite being just a stone's throw from the luxury playground of Songdo Future City. One of Incheon's biggest shitholes.

Im Sua had been chattering nonstop while driving, but here she tensed up, eyes darting everywhere.

"Young master? This place'll get you killed if you fuck up even a little. You sure this is it?"

"Yeah. Turn right up there."

"Ugh~ Gotta be careful. Wouldn't wanna poke the hornet's nest."

A luxury car and two police vans rolling through the heart of Namdong had folks poking their heads out, wondering what the hell was up. Not a single one looked savory. Cyberware limbs were standard issue, and some asshole had even swapped his whole head for a freakish robot dome. The common thread? Everyone was packing heat. If I'd come alone, I'd have eaten a bullet or grenade from somewhere, flipping the car end over end. Even hotel guards might've tested me. The two cop vans kept 'em to gawking—for now. No point getting mulched by machine guns when it was their loss.

"There. Right in front of that abandoned warehouse."

Our destination amid the chaos. The spot to farm Ninelord—my fix for the drug addiction—plus other goodies.

Im Sua grabbed her radio.

"You lot stay out and block the entrance with the vans. Warn anyone approaching, and if they keep coming, just shoot."

- Roger.

She parked like a pro. Stepping out, the sun blasted down like it wanted to fry our skulls. No exaggeration—this world had advanced global warming and ozone depletion cranked to eleven.

"So why here, young master? What's the draw?"

Im Sua drew her gun, scanning warily. Naturally, the surface-level warehouse had jack shit. The real loot was in a hidden basement.

I led her around the perimeter.

"Here. Underfoot."

I stomped. Thick-packed dirt hid it well, but I knew the layout. Dead center.

Squatting, I scraped with my fingers. Rock-hard—no dice. Needed tools.

In the game, it just dug right up.

Right—game me was a stat monster. Ko Mu-yeol? Middle-schooler levels.

"Got anything to sell around here? Shovel or whatever."

"A shovel? Hmm..."

Im Sua kept watch, then radioed a cop.

"You called?"

The brute was pushing two meters, both arms cybernetic.

"Something here's buried. Dig."

"Hmph."

Sure enough, he excavated the spot in seconds, uncovering a steel door. He glanced at me. Password-locked.

"Step back."

I punched in the code I knew.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Clunk.

Rumble.

The door swung open, revealing stairs untouched for a decade.

"...How'd you know the code?"

"Secret."

"..."

I headed down. Im Sua posted the brute as guard and followed.

Should I keep her out?

Nah, shook it off.

"Deeper and darker than I thought... Want me up front?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"...Some secret vault of yours? Why build one here, though."

God, she was chatty. Same as in the car.

Maybe stuff her mouth. Cock would be perfect.

...And just like that, I was getting hard. Strip the corny name and noise, and Im Sua was a hot piece—pretty face, killer curves. Bet she'd be a fun fuck.

Fuck.

My mind raced ahead: her stripped bare, pale ass up, me pounding away. Lust ignited.

Sex addiction flaring? Tough bastard.

I held it back. Easier than drugs, at least. Relatively speaking.

Hiss.

Pulled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a cig, lit up. Head fogged pleasantly, dialing down the urges.

"Whew..."

Me standing there puffing had Im Sua glancing around. Rusty iron room littered with rat and bug corpses, junk piled haphazardly. Would take ages to comb.

"This place looks abandoned forever. What's the deal?"

"Dunno."

Stubbed the cig, started hunting Ninelord.

"Look for ampules. Clear liquid ones."

"Can I poke around?"

"Yeah."

"Alright..."

Nothing but Ninelord worth shit anyway. If I were the protagonist, yeah—untapped designer drugs, cheat-level highs with minimal crash. Perfect for bootstrapping cash and biz early-game. But I'm a chaebol heir. Already got a company. No need ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to slum it for efficiency when I could just run corps clean.

Still, too good to waste... Hand it off to her?

Her blonde hair slick with sweat, pretty face scanning—this corrupt cop was prime. If she ran Incheon's underbelly and I pulled her strings?

No reason to ditch the shadows just 'cause I'm topside.

Loyalty? Buy it with cash and perks.

Pulled up her info.

Prime corrupt cop traits. Perfect mark. The type who'd do anything for cash.

Compared to NIS pawn Ha Eun-young (Seo Eun-mi), her stats were lower and age higher—but that bitch was the outlier. This was standard. Hell, above average.

"Kyaa!"

Im Sua screamed from a side room. Hit paydirt?

I checked. She'd knocked over a crate, frozen stiff.

"Th-this..."

Drugs. A shit-ton. One crate alone screamed hundreds of billions. The whole room was packed.

Move it right, and you'd be swimming in wealth.

Im Sua gulped, snatching a baggie. Thick transparent pouch stuffed with salt-like powder.

"...Gotta test it proper, but..."

"It's dope."

"...You knew? Figures. You knew the code too. Used to do drugs your—Gasp! S-sorry!!"

She blurted it, then bowed frantically. I waved it off; she straightened, fiddling with the baggie. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Greed lit her eyes. Biting her lip seriously—damn, she looked good.

Tough choice for her.

One crate covered a lifetime's earnings. That designer shit was gold.

Problem: me. Too high-profile to whack. She couldn't swallow it whole. Sure, seize as cop and claim the bust—but performance metrics vs. black-market payout? No contest.

Especially for a dirty cop.

"What, gonna pin it on me?"

"N-no way..."

She trailed off, stuffing baggies back, even taping torn ones. Planning to bury it sans word.

"You confident?"

"Huh?"

"Can you fence it clean?"

She froze mid-repack.

"Too good to leave rotting. If we don't take it, the gangs upstairs will."

Cops kept 'em away now, but eyes were on. We'd leave, they'd swarm.

Grab now or lose it.

"Wh-what are you..."

"You're police. I'm Goryeo Group's heir."

"..."

"Buy a place in Songdo. Move it there. Details later."

"!!"

Eyes wide, she gulped, set the crate down gently.

"Y-yes, sir..."

Radioed immediately.

Back at the car, I slammed the Ninelord. Description was vague, but bottom line: pick a trait, poof—gone. Side effect warning for nuking good ones, but prime if used right.

Wanted to purge all the trash traits, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one vial meant prioritizing. Drug addiction it was.

Better than nothing. Escaped junkie hell.

A system window popped up, and my head cleared like fog burning off. Finally felt alive.