Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: A Very Stable Starting Point (3)
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Biting hard into the sausage bread I'd received, juices burst fully in my mouth.
And even a subtle aroma you couldn't get from ordinary bread.
The greasy sausage felt tastier to me personally than the no-brand hamburgers sold at convenience stores in the real world.
But what the hell is this made of? Synthetic meat?
'Anyway, it's pretty good.'
On a scale of 5, I'd give it about 3.5.
Nom nom.
That's a pretty high score.
I'd figured food in a cyberpunk world—drenched in capitalism—would taste like crap,
but this was genuinely satisfying, totally worth eating.
It took only a few seconds to devour the hotdog like I was possessed,
ding!
just as the microwave timer went off.
A fresh, steaming hotdog arrived right in front of me.
"If that's not enough, have more. I've got a few heating up anyway."
"Thanks."
"...At least chew and swallow before talking."
And that was my one-line review.
Hotdogs weren't eaten—they were chugged.
Only after silently letting out the burp that naturally rose up did I finally fill my stomach, starved for a whole month.
'No, it still feels a bit empty...'
But looking at the now-empty box beside me, I felt too guilty to ask for more.
(For reference, that box had been stuffed full of hotdog buns.)
"All done eating? Get up now."
"Yep."
Just filling my belly brought a surge of vitality to my body.
This was on par with my physical prime during military service back in Cheorwon.
Anyway.
The woman with the impassive expression, Christine, seemed to have finished her meal with some tube-shaped instant food while I scarfed down the hotdogs.
Fortunately, in this world, the paper straw cartel hadn't gained power,
so she slurped up the tube's contents through what looked like a metal straw.
'...72 random flavors, nabbing nutrition and fun at once! Neo-Life-Gel! Subscribe now! This product uses synthetic proteins and alternative ingredients, so side effects like indigestion, vomiting, skin rashes may occur depending on your constitution—.'
The nutrition tube had flashy logo text alongside a long warning in tiny print.
Strangely, I could read every single one of those small letters without missing a thing.
Was my eyesight always this good?
Of course not.
Apparently, just like how my height and build had grown during treatment, my vision had improved dramatically too.
Christine tossed the shriveled-up nutrition tube carelessly into the trash, then dumped a few supplement pills onto her palm.
"Here, wanna try these?"
"...I'm good."
"They're great for your health. If not, whatever."
Who crunches supplements with their teeth anyway? In a one-eyed world, two eyes make you the freak.
She habitually went to light a herbal cigarette but stopped when she saw me.
A form of consideration, I suppose.
"Ahem. Alright, before we head out..."
Christine pulled a familiar-looking metal tool from an old drawer—one I'd never touched in my life.
"Here, take it."
"This is..."
She tilted her head at my question.
It was a pretty cute gesture, but the object in her hand made it hard to just find it adorable.
"First time seeing a pistol?"
I'd seen plenty in movies and games, but this was my first time seeing one for real.
I'd never even been to a shooting range.
81mm mortars or K-2 rifles, sure.
"Not the first time seeing one, but I've never handled a real one."
"Weird. Even the lanky rich kids up top carry pistols for self-defense."
Christine spun the pistol deftly a few times.
Whirr.
Then she gripped the short barrel and extended the handle toward me.
"Here, check it out. This is the trigger."
"......"
For some reason, I felt like her image of me had dropped—not once, but twice.
I mean, if I had to teach someone computer basics starting from mouse clicks, I'd be pretty embarrassed too.
Click.
I'd wondered if cyberpunk pistols had some special features, but no—it was just a plain old gunpowder firearm.
"No holster, so if you're stuffing it in your pocket, don't forget the safety. Unless you want to dye your pants red."
"Got it."
I absolutely wouldn't forget.
Come to think of it, I'd just noticed—
The clothes I was wearing were completely unfamiliar.
Not like I'd never seen shirts or pants before,
but these were rag-tier, barely usable as uppers and lowers combined...
As I fiddled with the grubby shirt, Christine drawled,
"Clothes? Buy some later. What you had on was all torn up and soaked in blood—not fit for a human."
My precious tracksuit (market price 35,000 won)...
Whatever, clothes aren't important.
I shoved the pistol roughly into my pocket and watched Christine walk ahead.
What the hell did she want from me to show this much kindness?
I couldn't figure it out.
'If something bad was gonna happen, it would've by now.'
If she had ulterior motives, we'd have had problems dozens of times over already.
Still, I didn't fully let my guard down as I followed her.
Hmm.
Come to think of it,
"So, did you change my clothes too...?"
"......"
Christine either didn't hear me or didn't deem it worth answering,
keep walking without stopping.
A bit awkward.
* * *
Following behind Christine,
I saw an alley that felt like 1980s Harlem banging a one-night stand with 21st-century neon signs— a bizarre vibe.
Every building visible had high occupancy rates,
optimistically called extensions, pessimistically chicken coops or ant farms tacked onto solid houses.
The streets were quieter than expected.
More signs of life came from the alleys than the main roads.
- Ugh, getting cold...
- How's it lately? Find anything good?
- Yaaah, drugs, drugs! Gimme drugs over food...
Most people visible deeper in the alleys wore shabby clothes like mine right now,
and Christine striding confidently ahead stood so apart from the street vibe that no one approached us.
Just a few vagrants hiding in neon shadows, rolling their eyes at her beauty.
"Hmm."
I scratched my itchy nape and found what looked like an insect bite.
'Are mosquitoes in the cyberpunk world freaking huge?'
But luckily, that thought was wrong.
Peering through a grimy window at the mark on my neck,
it looked less like a bug bite and more like a large preventive injection.
A pretty big needle too.
I instinctively knew this wound was deeply tied to my body's condition.
Better a neck scar than ending up in an uninsured ICU.
......
Damn, but it's itchier than I thought.
Mosquito bites always itch more once you notice them.
Scratching my nape while following Christine, we soon arrived at her destination.
『Edible Groceries for Sale.』
『Preparing to Open』
...Duh, groceries are edible—of course there aren't inedible kinds?
The shop looked newly opened; the exterior was pristine.
No separate name,
just 【Grocery Store】 in neon lights flashing.
I thought the clean shop resembled Christine a lot.
A stunning woman out of place in the filthy streets.
And a spotless grocery store opposite the grimy streets.
They had something in common.
Anyway,
As Christine neared the entrance, a massive turret suddenly dropped from the empty ceiling.
Shit, startled me.
The turret was man-sized.
'Any customer would bolt.'
But Christine advanced calmly, unfazed by the giant turret.
Its red lens gleamed.
Looking closer, the store interior had turrets stationed in every corner.
Like CCTVs.
'Post-apocalyptic grocery store...'
As I hesitated, Christine beckoned casually.
"It only shoots robbers, so don't be shy."
"...Isn't shooting robbers a bit extreme too?"
"Can't rely on public authority in this area."
She shrugged and continued.
"This level of security is standard in other areas. Comes with decent AI, so glitches are rare."
Like the exterior, the interior was spotless.
One flaw: poor inventory organization?
It looked more like a warehouse than a proper store.
At least the counter and shelves were intact.
"Here."
And she handed me a pass necklace—no, an apron.
"You're the manager of this grocery store now."
"Pardon?"
Finally, I'd reached the final tech tree for all salarymen: self-employment.
......
"Wait, what do you mean?"
"You heard me right."
That's why I'm asking.
"I was gonna ease you into it over more time."
Christine's irises faintly glowed.
Staring into space like she was checking something, she continued.
"Remember what I said earlier?"
"Uh, chew and swallow before talking?"
"My rare vacation's almost up."
Right.
"Duty calls soon. Can't stick around to teach you properly."
Was the pristine exterior guarded by that massive violence (turret) outside?
Christine wiped dust off a shelf with her finger.
I scratched my head.
"But suddenly like this..."
This game's not a simulation management genre—it's open-world action adventure RPG.
Still, logic aside, I had no choice but to listen.
All the interior turrets turned to me.
Hard to say no in this situation.
Of course, it was a sweet deal for me too.
Saw those homeless folks in the alley earlier—all scary-looking.
Like grabbing the counter POS at my doljanchi,
I replied with full confidence.
"...F-Fine, I'll give it a shot."
Even in a game, gotta clock in to survive.
Life's tough just to eat.