But I'm Not a Villain (5)
I'd struck it rich. “Hehe. Now what should I do with all this?” I fell into a happy dilemma.
After roughly tallying the wads of cash and credit chips stuffed in my pockets, the total came to a staggering 200,000 credits earned in a single day. In my old world’s money, that was roughly two hundred thousand won. All that from nothing more than a few hypnotic clicks. “This is what making money feels like.” I couldn’t keep the grin from tugging at my lips.
Compared to having literally zero cash in my pockets earlier, this was a fortune. That said, it wasn’t nearly enough to live like a king in this insane city for the rest of my life. One night in a decent room and a few proper meals would wipe it out completely.
I wonder where I should spend this so people will say I used it well.
Hugging the bundle of bills protectively to my chest, I finally stepped out of the smoky alley. The moment I reached the main street, where dazzling neon signs poured their light across the pavement, the first thing I noticed was a clothing store. That was when I glanced down at myself.
“……Ah.”
A filthy patient gown covered in dirt and grime. To anyone looking, I was indistinguishable from a street vagrant. No wonder I’d felt so many eyes on me all day. But there was an even more urgent problem than appearances.
The massive laboratory emblem stamped across my chest. I couldn’t keep walking around in clothes that basically advertised where I’d escaped from. The second the lab goons spotted me, I’d be dragged straight back to the human experimentation ward.
Having learned the hard way how vital clothing was for survival, I decided to buy new clothes first.
“Clothes it is.”
I tugged the patient gown closed as best I could and strode briskly into the store I’d just seen.
After changing into the new outfit and standing in front of the mirror, I was pretty satisfied with the result. There hadn’t been any men’s sizes that fit, so I’d reluctantly chosen women’s clothes with tears in my eyes, but in this cyberpunk world where gender lines had blurred, the visual difference was negligible.
Jeans that clung tightly to my body. A sleek black leather jacket that fell just right.
“It’d be perfect if I could add a pair of sunglasses.”
There was a touch of regret, but it couldn’t be helped. For now I was simply grateful to have shed that patient gown and stepped out looking like a normal person again.
Hands shoved into the leather jacket pockets, I headed for the nearest restaurant to fill my stomach.
“Welcome~.”
It must have been the early morning hours; the place was completely empty. I took the seat closest to the door and called out without even glancing at the menu. True men’s soul food.
“One sweet potato cheese pork cutlet, please.”
Once I’d ordered and leaned back in the soft chair, the tension finally drained away and my head cleared. While I waited for the food, I started forming a concrete plan for surviving in this world.
The place I’d been dropped into was the setting of a comic book. Unfortunately, I had zero knowledge of its detailed plot. The one bright spot was that I at least knew one classic rule for surviving in these kinds of stories.
In genres like this, just sticking close to the protagonist is enough to get you halfway to safety.
Even if I didn’t get directly involved, if I kept tabs on where the protagonist went and what they did, I could avoid any upcoming disasters or death flags in advance.
First order of business: find out who the protagonist actually was.
“Haah, there’s a mountain of work ahead.”
Forging an ID, tracking down the original protagonist… As I carefully organized my plans, a pleasant sound from the kitchen broke the quiet.
“Order up!”
The rich aroma of freshly fried food rose in fragrant steam, stabbing straight into my nose.
“First things first… even Mount Geumgang looks better after a meal.”
I picked up the knife, eyes sparkling. I sliced through the crispy cutlet and took a huge bite of the largest piece. My mouth filled with the distinctive scent of frozen food and the spongy texture of artificial meat. It didn’t taste nearly as good as I’d hoped, of course.
When I left the restaurant, morning had already arrived. I narrowed my eyes and paused.
“It’s already this late?”
Unlike the night before, brilliant morning sunlight poured down from above. The city, now bright and clear, felt completely different from how it had looked after dark.
The most surprising change was the street itself. The countless vagrants who had filled every corner just hours ago had vanished like a lie. In their place were office workers in neat clothes, hurrying off to wherever they needed to be.
I walked slowly through the downtown streets, unable to hide my amazement. When I’d only seen the gloomy laboratory and the slums, I’d assumed this was pure dystopian horror. But Ark City in daylight looked more like a gleaming, state-of-the-art metropolis.
There were far more ordinary-looking people who could have passed for citizens of my old world than the kind of augmented thugs covered in glowing machinery you saw in movies.
What truly captured my gaze, however, wasn’t the technology everywhere. When I happened to look up at the sky between the forest of buildings, I froze in place.
“I never thought I’d actually see something like this.”
Between the tightly packed skyscrapers, several people were flying through the air. They soared freely, as if gravity didn’t apply to them. With magnificent capes whipping in the wind and skin-tight suits, they looked exactly like protagonists from Hollywood superhero films.
I’d assumed it was a simple boys’ comic. Apparently this world was more like a genre-mixing bibimbap. Cyberpunk and superheroes? Come to think of it, the fact that I had hypnotic powers should have tipped me off that something was strange.
Still, that wasn’t important right now. I turned my steps back toward the slums and the shantytown, ready to earn more money.
What I didn’t realize was why no one had bothered me until now.
The moment I entered the slum area, eyes hidden in the shadows all turned toward me at once. They were the sticky, beast-like stares of starving hyenas that had just spotted delicious prey.
…This is something I didn’t account for.
When I’d looked like a beggar, I hadn’t received this kind of attention. But now that I was dressed decently, I must have looked like a walking wallet.
Instinctive wariness shot through me. My hand was already drifting toward the pistol grip inside my jacket when—
“Hey! You there, kid!”
Trouble had arrived. Three men with vicious faces and bodies covered in tattoos blocked the alley entrance and started harassing me.
“Do you even know where you are, walking in here without a care?”
“Boss, that kid’s pants and jacket are pretty stylish. Kick. They’d look good on you.”
Their slurred voices and mocking laughter were backed by the jackknives and crude old-fashioned pistols they waved threateningly. It was an obvious threat.
But I didn’t panic. I immediately began calculating the most efficient way to handle the situation.
I’ve used my power a lot today and I’m running low, but…
Three opponents. Hypnotizing them all at once carried too much risk. The best move was to target the guy at the front who was acting like the leader. If I could throw him into a panic, the other two would be easy.
I began focusing power into my eyes, right at the moment I was about to activate my ability—
“……What are you doing over there?”
A low, heavy voice rolled out from the deep darkness behind the alley, shattering the silence.
In an instant, the faces of the punks who had been blocking my path and growling at me drained of all color.
“Hiiik…! P-Peterson…?!”
“Why is the mad dog here?!”
“Run! We’ll die if we’re not careful!!”
The bravado they’d shown while waving their knives vanished. They bolted down the alley like rats fleeing a predator.
Having lost my targets without even getting to fight, I turned my head with a dumbfounded look.
There stood a man in an old military coat, walking toward me with heavy steps. He was my tenth customer—the same man who had been fast asleep on the floor of my shack only hours earlier.
But the look in his eyes now was nothing like the unfocused gaze of the broken derelict I’d seen before. An aura like a veteran who had survived countless battlefields radiated from him.
This might be dangerous…?
I swallowed hard, tension rising, when the man spoke.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“……Eh?”
His unexpectedly polite tone left me completely frozen.