Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Yuria's Shopping is a Moving Experience (2)
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There were two main reasons I hadn't tried to get a terminal until now.
One was money, and the other was, of course, the problem of my identity.
Before I get into that, it’s probably best to explain what a terminal is.
To put it simply, a terminal holds the same status in this world as a smartphone does in my old one.
You can make calls, send messages, take pictures, and access the internet.
Functionally, it’s not much different from a smartphone—an essential item for modern life.
But why call it a terminal instead of a smartphone? Well, there were various reasons for that.
With the emergence of metahumans, the long-lasting wars, and the subsequent advancements in technology and shifts in social culture, the smartphone naturally became a relic of a bygone era.
Besides, in this age, there are many devices in forms you could hardly call a phone, like bracelets, earrings, and even piercings. Calling them terminals is just more convenient in many ways.
In any case, since you can access all sorts of functions with a single device…
Even with advanced technology, there was no way they could be cheap.
Aside from minor expenses like buying a snack when I'm hungry, I’d probably have to work for a solid month to afford even a basic terminal in one lump sum.
In other words, just acquiring a proper terminal was a significant hurdle for me.
My income is more like an allowance than a part-time wage, so an expense like this would be a real headache.
‘And… what’s more annoying is the identification issue. They have carriers here too, so you basically have to sign up to use the functions properly. And to sign up… you usually need an ID.’
My finances were tight to begin with, and even if I had the money, my lack of identification would ultimately hold me back.
Because of all this, no matter how much more comfortable life with a terminal might be, it was nothing more than a pie in the sky for me. I’m so jealous. Living as a citizen of Nighthaven.
However, this was all assuming I stuck to the straight and narrow.
Let’s think about it. Am I really the only person in this city living without an identity?
Criminals who defected from overseas, fugitives who abandoned their names to escape pursuers.
And avengers who cast aside their own identities to settle a grudge, and so on.
There must be a mountain of people who can't reveal their identities for one reason or another.
Would the merchants really let such a lucrative market pass them by? No way… not a chance!
“Hey, did you hear? That group I mentioned before got completely wrecked after they messed with Snake.”
“Damn, I knew it. A bunch of country bumpkins from the outside, running their mouths without knowing their place. Looks like they caught the monster’s eye. This is a place where you get a knife in the gut if you act up.”
“Aah, move it, move it! This is a bomb! A bomb, I said!”
“Hmm… this collectible seems to be of… considerable value.”
The Northern Slums of Nighthaven.
Untouched by buses or subways and neglected in many ways, this area was one of the most crime-ridden in the city.
Dilapidated buildings, a pungent stench that assaulted the nose, and compared to the relatively clean citizens of the city center, intimidating metahumans covered in gruesome scars and strange tattoos.
Compared to the west, where the beastmen held a firm grip and maintained some semblance of order, the north, lacking a clear ruler, was a bloodbath of daily wars and struggles.
And yet, in this place where it seemed difficult to create any legitimate value… a surprisingly active black market was in operation.
Perhaps because there was no clear figurehead, it had the advantage of being difficult to root out completely.
In any case, in this tenacious black market that refused to die no matter how many times they tried to get rid of it, you could sell anything. And anything was sold.
The eyeballs and organs of a rare metahuman, the core technology of a famous corporation, a cursed blade crafted by a master that thirsted for blood.
Things that couldn't be sold recklessly for fear of the consequences were traded freely here.
Of course, it was common for someone without proper backing to get sliced up by robbers while trying to buy or sell something.
But aside from such cases, there was no place more attractive and tempting to those who dwelled in the shadows.
“…”
I walked calmly through the black market of the Northern Slums, my face hidden deep within the black robe I had bought during my outing with Sabrina.
I had tied my hair back as tightly as possible to keep it from being seen. On my face was not the fox mask Greg had given me, but a goblin mask, making my disguise perfect for any contingency.
I’d glanced in a mirror earlier, and it didn’t look too obvious. This should be enough to hide my identity even from someone who knows Yuria. …They won’t recognize me, right?
‘…By the way. It’s my first time here. The buildings are all so low. I can’t just fly around with psychokinesis.’
The buildings in the Northern Slums were generally low, and the ground and walls were filthy.
It reminded me of a shantytown or a hillside slum.
Considering the Western Labyrinth was filled with towering skyscrapers dripping with money, it was surprising to see such a difference, even though both were part of the underworld.
I’m glad I chose to hide in the west instead of the north.
As I thought this to myself, I slipped past the people packed together like sardines and ducked into an alleyway instead of the main street.
My destination wasn't on a busy thoroughfare like this but deep within a narrow alley. It was time to head in.
And perhaps because my robed figure became more conspicuous as I entered the alley…
The people lingering there immediately drew their knives and started trouble.
“Oh, hold it, hold it. You there, kid. Wanna pass through here? Then hand over everything you’ve got and… Gah!”
“H-Hey! What trick is this bastard pulling… Urk!”
*Thwack! Thwack!*
I kindly delivered a psychokinetic flick—one I couldn't even remember the last time I'd used—to the top of each of their heads.
Perhaps because the precision and range of my psychokinesis had improved so much…
Knocking out these knife-wielding thugs was easier than yawning.
At this distance, even if someone happened to be passing by, they would probably think those guys just suddenly collapsed rather than suspecting me of any foul play, right?
‘Anyway. That startled me. Such naughty people. I have no choice but to collect a surprise fee.’
I thought to myself as I took the wallets from the pockets of the men who lay foaming at the mouth and unconscious on the ground.
If they just stayed like this, a pack of hyenas would come and strip them of everything they had.
No one would say a thing if I just took the money beforehand. Hehe, I’ll put it to good use.
“Hey, this ain’t no place for a kid… Gack!”
“Kekeke! Hand over everything you have! Or I’ll gut you and… Kah!”
“Uh… A-Are you perhaps a mage? …Ack!”
*Thwack! Thwack! Thwaaack!*
After smacking the heads of three more thugs who blocked my path, I finally reached my destination.
‘The place from the original story… should be around here. Hmm… it’s really run-down.’
The place where I stopped was a building that looked so unremarkable you’d think it was just an ordinary house if not for the dust-covered sign.
Written on the sign were the short, simple characters for "General Store."
The characters, a rare sight in Nighthaven, confirmed that I had found the right place.
…But now that I’m actually about to go in, I’m getting a little nervous.
Feeling a shiver run down my spine, I nonchalantly reached out to push the door open and step inside.
Or rather, I was about to.
Just as I was about to grab the doorknob, a loud commotion erupted from within.
“Get out of here right now! You damn bastard!”
“Ack! Master! That hurts! It hurts!”
“Then I’ll hit you so it hurts until you die! You think I’m hitting you to make you feel good, you little shit?!”
Whoa, I should probably back off for a second.
Just as I thought that and took about three steps back from the door…
It flew open, and a young man came tumbling out in a panic.
“S-Sorry! I didn’t mean it!”
The man, with honey-blond hair and a somewhat timid appearance, rolled on the ground once before scrambling away on all fours, fleeing deeper into the alley.
He was in such a state that he didn't even seem to notice my presence near the door.
The next person to emerge was a red-haired woman with thick, round glasses perched on her face.
She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties.
She had freckles on the bridge of her nose, but her impressive cleavage, clearly visible in her tank top, drew all the attention, making her three times more attractive.
She seemed to be chasing the blond man, shuffling outside in her slippers, when she noticed me standing by the door and shot me a sharp glare that was instantly intimidating.
Then, as if realizing I was a customer with business and not a stranger, she narrowed her eyes and spoke cautiously.
“Are you… a customer?”
“…”
“Dammit… Get inside. It’s cold out here.”
When I nodded in response to her question, she rubbed the back of her neck as if to say, *of all the times to show up*.
She needed to chase after the man who had run away, but a customer’s arrival was clearly a headache for her.
But perhaps she believed that no matter how urgent things were, the customer came first.
She seemed to calm her anger and guided me into the shop.
Like Greg or Raven, she was a truly mature adult. So cool.
She’s exactly like she was in the original story.
The thought sparked a strange sense of familiarity within me.