A Crack in Peace (1)

Seven years had passed since I transmigrated into this ruined noir world. I was ten when I first arrived and saw my mother and father’s corpses. Now I’m seventeen, so the math checks out. As the saying goes, even a temple school dog can recite poetry after three years. Seven years ago I’d thought I was completely screwed because it was a ruined noir setting, but I’ve adapted well enough. These days I live a perfectly ordinary life as a part-timer at a PC bang.

The parents who died the moment I arrived left no memories behind, so I don’t feel any particular sadness. My adoptive mother, who took me in, is a good person too, so that part feels natural. If anything, this life seems better than the one I had before. Back then I was an orphan with no parents and no interest in studying—an absolute loser by any measure.

Besides, things have gotten a lot more interesting lately thanks to a certain regular customer. Not a weird girl—a noona.

“This is boring… I wanna play League…”

The noona who comes here every day muttered to herself while grinding Lineage. League means Legend of League. Lineage, Legend of League. Just looking at those names, you can tell this world was cooked up by a Korean, right? At least the familiar terms put my mind at ease.

“I wanna play League…”

But why the hell is she playing Lineage while constantly whining about League? There’s a funny story behind it.

First of all, the noona herself looks ridiculous. Honestly, she seems way younger than me. Maybe 140cm tall? Possibly shorter. Her body is so scrawny she looks like she belongs in a hospital bed. Add white hair and red eyes, and the fragile image gets cranked up to eleven. Despite that, she’s rocking hair wax like she’s trying to look cool, slicking her bangs back. She’s got long hair with pretty perms and waves—why ruin it by exposing her forehead with wax? On top of that, she’s wearing a pure white dress shirt with pitch-black slacks. This isn’t some Mona Mu ballpoint pen commercial. What kind of chuuni fashion is this?

“Whoa! Enhancement success! This should cover this week’s operating expenses!”

Of course she has the right to act arrogant. Once you hear “operating expenses” and remember this is a ruined noir world, you can pretty much guess what’s going on.

Yeah. Even though it’s ruined, she’s still the boss. That’s why she slathers on the wax and dresses like some monochrome fashion model. It’s honestly a little pitiful that her appearance completely kills any sense of dignity.

Anyway, because her organization is in ruins, unlike the famous ones, she has neither money nor fame. When I searched for Fantasia online, it said the collapse started seven years ago.

“Nice! Time to treat myself a little today.”

She doesn’t look like an organization boss at all. Watching her get excited over a single weapon enhancement and order ramen is enough to make me feel sorry for her.

Still, the people who killed my real parents were gangsters, so I don’t want to get deeply involved. That’s why I keep my distance.

“Here’s the cheese stir-fry you ordered.”

“Wow! Cheese stir-fry! The one Hyeonu made is the absolute best!”

Somehow we ended up exchanging names. The noona’s name is Eris. Full name, Eris Selenor. It sounds like some rootless fantasy name, but since my name is Woo Hyun-woo and my adoptive mother’s is Sato Fuyuka, I’m too tired to complain about this world anymore.

“Noona, have you been doing better at Lineage lately?”

“Ahem! Of course! Even if I look like this, I’m making three hundred thousand won a week, you know?”

Eris happily slurped down the cheese stir-fry. Three hundred thousand a week meant at most 1.2 million a month. It was pitiful that the boss of an organization—even a ruined one—was living off Lineage earnings of 1.2 million won per month.

“Wow, that’s really impressive. When you first started playing League saying you’d eat rice with it, I wondered what kind of person you were.”

She had improved, at least. The funny story about Eris was exactly that “rice-eating League” attempt. Legend of League. Even people who’ve never played it know the truth: unless you become a pro gamer and win the league, making money from the game is impossible.

But Eris didn’t know much about games, so she proudly declared she would make living expenses with League. After playing endlessly without seeing any way to earn money, she came to me—the part-timer—with a serious question. That was our first conversation.

“Part-timer, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“How do you make money with Legend of League?”

“You become a pro gamer and win the league.”

“Pro gay? But I’m in a woman’s body. How can I become a pro gay?”

“Not pro gay. Pro gamer…”

I ended up explaining common sense that everyone knows to Eris, who didn’t even understand what a pro gamer was. I wondered why she didn’t know something so obvious. For a moment I even had a rude thought—maybe the white hair meant she was actually an old grandma who only looked young. In a world this abnormal, it wouldn’t be strange.

“So I have to play this Lineage game to make money? But it’s so boring…”

Eventually Eris learned she couldn’t earn with League and had to play Lineage instead. Since it wasn’t her taste, she kept complaining that it was boring and singing about how she wanted to play League. If some Lineage addict heard her they’d probably be furious, but what did I care? I wasn’t a Lineage addict.

“By the way, noona, are you really twenty?”

“Mmm, that’s right?”

Eris answered with her mouth full of cheese stir-fry. No matter how I looked at her, she didn’t seem twenty. When I first taught her about Lineage and mentioned you had to be an adult to earn money from it, she showed me her ID. It clearly said the woman named Eris Selenor was twenty, and the photo matched her face, so I had no choice but to believe it. Still, no matter how many times I saw her, twenty years old with that appearance was just weird.

“Every time I look at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you I can’t believe you’re twenty. You look like you should be in kindergarten.”

“Then you don’t look seventeen at all, munch munch… gulp!”

It was funny watching her talk with her mouth full, but she wasn’t wrong. I’d transmigrated into a ruined noir world and never cared about studying, so I didn’t go to school. Instead I trained like a madman because I didn’t know when danger might strike, and ended up becoming a hulking giant. I’m 186cm tall and can bench 500kg across the three major lifts. In a world with superpowers, kickboxing is considered useless, but I can still confidently beat up normal people. My hairstyle—though it’s my adoptive mother’s preference—uses wax too, so I look even more mature. From Eris’s perspective, I probably don’t look seventeen at all.

“Are you calling me an old-looking face?”

“Ah, no! Not old-looking! You look really cool! I often wish I could be like you. It’s amazing.”

“Then you’d have to change your gender first.”

“Gender? Ah… right. I’m a girl, aren’t I?”

Eris smiled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠awkwardly and scratched her cheek. Sometimes she reacted like she forgot she was female. I have no idea why, but I don’t ask. I don’t want to get deeply involved with gangsters.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Have fun gaming.”

“It’s not fun though… slurp.”

That was the extent of our relationship. The distance between part-timer and regular customer was just right. If she weren’t a gangster I might feel differently, but since she is, I have no intention of getting any closer.

“Once again today, the Esper Hunters magnificently protected the city by defeating monsters. We have the boss of the Esper Hunters, Han Se-hee, with us today.”

Gangster. Organized crime. The words exist here too, but people rarely use them. The term “ability user organization” is far more common.

“Hello, I’m Han Se-hee. Honestly, there wasn’t much to call an accomplishment today. A mere goblin pack appeared, that’s all.”

A woman with strangely sky-blue hair and matching sky-blue eyes appeared on the TV screen. Her neatly cut bob and cold eyes gave off an intellectual impression. She was Han Se-hee, boss of the organization called Esper Hunter. The title floating above her head—Boss of Esper Hunter (One of the Three Major Organizations)—was displayed publicly, so even people without my Title Collector ability could see it. That made sense, since Esper Hunter was one of the three major ability user organizations.

A city surrounded by massive walls. Heteromorphs trying to invade that city. The people who killed those heteromorphs and protected the city were undoubtedly evil. They committed all kinds of crimes. Yet because they kept people safe from the heteromorphs, no one tried to dig into it. On top of that, for some reason all the organization bosses were beautiful girls, so they were incredibly popular. The people who actually suffered at the gangsters’ hands hated them, but they couldn’t voice their opinions.

I just wanted to live an ordinary life in this ruined noir world. That’s why I didn’t want to get involved with gangsters. Charging at gangsters to avenge parents I don’t even remember living with? I would never do something that stupid.

But in transmigration stories, whenever you try to live peacefully, some event always happens to ruin it. That’s just how it works.

“Who the hell is it! Who killed this Choon-sik, huh?!”

A man suddenly burst into the peaceful PC bang, yelling and swaggering around. The moment I saw the badge on his chest, my breath caught.

A snake flicking its tongue. It was the badge symbolizing members of Carpediem, one of the three major organizations.

“The bastard who killed Choon-sik, get out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here right now! Before I smash every computer of these Lineage-playing punks!”

It looked like someone had killed this gangster’s Lineage character in PVP. In seven years of working at this PC bang, nothing like this had ever happened. Why now?

Tension crawled down my spine. The title above the guy who kept calling himself Choon-sik made my throat tighten even more.

Yellow-dyed hair in an all-back style, piercings around his eyes and on his tongue. Even without using Title Collector, it was obvious he was a complete lunatic. I wanted nothing to do with him.

“The kid with the Lineage nickname Eriseleno, get out here right now!”

But what if the person this crazy bastard was looking for was our PC bang’s regular customer? What if the lunatic wasn’t just carrying a gun but actually started shooting? What if a murder happened in our PC bang?

A chill ran down my spine. If this became the starting point and gangsters started frequenting the place, normal customers would stop coming. We might end up paying protection money to Carpediem. Losing regular customers and having to pay protection fees on top of that? I’d let my guard down thinking that after seven years even a temple school dog could recite poetry. That was a mistake.

The real noir was only just beginning.