Chapter 50
Chapter 50
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Spilled Water (5)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Clothing, food, and shelter—these are the three essential elements for a person to live properly.
In short, it's a single word encompassing clothes, sustenance, and housing.
As someone from Korea, where owning a home in the capital region is a pipe dream, I looked up at the newly built "building" and murmured in quiet admiration.
"It's bigger than I thought."
"...It's all thanks to Hotdog Man."
They'd worked energetically through the night, hammering away.
Even if it was assembled from parts like a model kit, I hadn't expected them to erect a fully intact building in just a few days.
The first floor of the building was left wide open, just as Liberra had initially described, perfect for use as a parking lot or walkway.
'Piloti structure...'
With the new space available, the homeless folks who'd been scattered across the vacant lot naturally gathered under the pillars supporting the building's weight.
"Hm, now we can take shelter from the rain here."
"The kid came up with a pretty good idea."
The homeless had effectively taken over the first floor of the building where the kids stayed, but Liberra seemed unfazed by it—more than I'd expected.
I habitually stroked her hair, positioned conveniently like an escalator handrail, and asked,
"Tch, you okay with that?"
The texture was so soft that I kept fiddling with it without realizing.
It felt like petting the Pomeranian I'd raised back at my old countryside home.
Unlike that one ferocious beast from the countryside, though, Liberra just trembled faintly now and then, showing no real signs of dislike.
"...Hng, y-yes."
"?"
"I-It's really fine."
I jumped at the sudden weird noise.
Anyway.
Michael, who'd snuck up behind me, filled in the explanation on that point.
"There won't be any major security issues. Everyone here now belongs to the 'organization.'"
"Beggar clans or underworld sects are usually cliche hard to manage."
"...What's that supposed to be?"
Such places exist.
Michael didn't seem to expect an answer and continued.
"Anyway, it really will be fine. That's why I've been so busy these past few days."
While I'd been slacking off, Michael had put real effort into managing the homeless.
Come to think of it, he'd refused my Black Square invitation citing a packed schedule.
"Thanks to Walter's help, we've successfully treated most of those who acted violently due to illegal malware implanted in their heads. Our existing techs and scrap dealers worked hard too, of course."
"Oho."
"We're also properly maintaining those suffering severe neuralgia from low cybernetic synergy or long-term neglect."
Michael glanced at the homeless warming themselves by the drum fires moved under the building, and they waved roughly in response.
"Hey, Michael..."
Then they abruptly stopped.
"...No, the Boss is right there too. Thanks for today's daily bread—"
Not all the homeless were like that, but some genuinely idolized me like a saint.
'Ugh, this is embarrassing.'
It made my stomach churn, but I couldn't just stand there—I waved lightly back.
"The Boss looked at me...!"
"Hotdog Man!! Hotdog Man!! Hotdog Man!!"
Time to lay low.
I have no idea how they gathered only these lunatics.
"Very satisfactory."
"...And the craziest one's standing right next to me."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
Thankfully, he didn't catch my mutter. Michael tilted his head, then continued.
"So, no one here shows symptoms of what they call 'Chrome Junkie.'"
"Chrome what?"
"Chrome Junkie. It's a neologism for those whose nerves glitch from botched malware downloads or installing too many implants without considering their cybernetic synergy."
A faint shimmer passed over Michael's pupils.
Looked like he was checking the cyber web wiki.
Namu Wiki wins again today.
"In short, addicted to chrome."
"Haven't seen anyone like that yet."
"In Area 49, causing a ruckus usually gets you 'treated' with lead slugs."
Ah, physical therapy.
I quickly glanced at Walter, who'd settled against one of the pillars.
The other techs helped, sure, but it was his arrival that changed everything.
'...But seriously, how long does that old man plan to stick around?'
Last time I checked, he'd scavenged a mattress and was sleeping on it.
The guy's advanced in years—what's with the hardship?
Walter was gazing up at Liberra's new home sweet home, lost in thought.
"...Indeed, this method."
A strange foreboding prickled just as—
Michael noticed my gaze and wrapped up.
"Well, it wouldn't have been possible without Hotdog Man. Not for me, the others, or even Walter."
He looked at me with intensely burdensome eyes.
I wanna poke him.
"We've all received great favors from Hotdog Man."
"Expired food?"
"If you kicked me out, I'd probably starve soon enough."
The value of hygienic, tasty, even warm food...
Nothing like the 'mystery skewers' or 'mystery jerky' sold on the streets.
"I'd probably chug cheap biofarm potato vodka till I puked, collapse in an alley... Or crawl into a dumpster to escape the rain and end up carted off to Area 50."
Michael smirked blankly, reminiscing about our first meeting.
Back then, his beard made him look mid-50s; now cleanly groomed, he had the sharp look of a corporate exec. I hadn't seen that coming.
As we shared a smile,
I realized I was still stroking Liberra's hair and looked down at her.
"Liberra."
"...Yes?"
She startled, as if lost in thought, and answered.
"...Sorry. I was distracted too."
"..."
I hadn't even said anything yet.
Well, after living in a leaky, buggy shack without power, getting a new place must thrill her.
No wonder her mind wandered.
"When are you moving the kids in?"
"Ah..."
To keep it safe, I'd planned to escort them along my route.
Best to all pile into the truck.
But at my question, Liberra clasped her hands cutely and mumbled,
"Th-they already moved in..."
"...When?"
"Just now."
I hadn't sensed a thing.
Makes sense why megacorps wanted her for assassinations.
Still, they were all cute kids.
Then the nearby homeless started buzzing noisily.
"Anyone see my popcorn box? It vanished. Let's share."
"...What kind of bastard stole all the sandwiches we were gonna split? One per person, doesn't he know?"
I perked up at their chatter and looked back at Liberra.
Silence hung between us.
We knew the culprit.
"...I-I'll bring them back!"
"Nah..."
Guess she was really hungry...
The grocery store still had piles of ingredients left.
Meant sales sucked, which bummed me out a bit, but I'd given up hoping for real customers.
Confusing paradox: stuff not selling, yet inventory vanishing.
I'd just tell Nova to up the food orders later.
Speaking of which.
"Where's Nova?"
Michael and Liberra exchanged glances at my question.
Liberra's face was still half-hidden by her bushy hair, but her short stature made her head tilt obvious.
Michael spoke first, then Liberra whispered like the wind.
"Dunno. No idea."
"...Isn't she on the grocery store ceiling?"
That's a turret.
I scratched my head and slowly eyed the grocery store building.
Maybe inside the warehouse?
Deep in the shadowed alley.
A two-man crew struggled to unload a massive crate from their vehicle.
"...But is this really okay?"
"If they say unload, we unload."
The young men, barely adults, wiped sweat from their brows and sorted the goods.
One seemed especially indecisive, dragging out his words.
"St-still. I heard that building's managed by the mafia family..."
"So what?"
A snappy voice cut him off.
"Don't you wanna make some fucking money? Just blast the entrance with the gear they gave us, and we get three big ones each! ...That cash could get us out of this dump, move to Area 30."
Close buddies, they shoved shoulders casually.
"Time to swim with the big fish, right?"
"...Yeah."
"Good."
And then.
The nodding guy pulled an 'Antitank Rocket Launcher' from the crate, slinging it heavily over his shoulder.
The fancy-engraved weapon looked primed to deliver truck-level impact to the grocery store.
Just as the entrance was about to shatter again—
"Halt."
"?!"
The woman's voice from nowhere froze them solid.
White eyes gleamed in the dark.
Spotting her, they sighed in relief.
"...Shit, thought we were busted."
"Hoo, hoo..."
No visible weapon, so no real threat.
She was stunningly beautiful, like a model emerging from a billboard.
"Hey, lady. We're busy now. Come back later if you want fun."
"...Heard Hole Paradise went fully bust. Runaway android?"
Different impressions from each.
Her unreal beauty screamed android.
Even in a world of advanced plastic surgery, reshaping bone structure cost a fortune.
"Heh, heh... Don't be like that. Wanna come with when we bolt?"
"Ugh, you psycho... You were shaking like a leaf earlier."
The other laughed in disbelief.
"Do what you want. Better than your nervous bullshit."
As he prepped to fire the launcher at the store, the flip-flopping guy scratched his crotch and approached her.
"W-we're about to get rich? Booze, drugs, food—anything you want."
Up close, his pupils dilated and contracted rhythmically.
Obviously dosing electronic drugs via a brain smart chip.
"Whoa, those tits..."
The woman, Nova, stared blankly at the man's hand inching toward her.
Just the same organic compounds.
Why the intense disgust churning her emotional signals?
Inexplicable.
And simultaneously—
His elbow snapped backward.
"...Wh-what??"
No pain from the e-drugs, but gushing electrolyte fluid and blood like burst pipes panicked him.
Ignoring his ass-on-the-ground flail, Nova fixed a sharp gaze on the remaining man.
"Final warning. Halt."
"What the fu—"
Natural curses flew as the launcher's muzzle swung her way.
Now mindful of the grocery store's exterior security too, she—
kicked off the ground first, before the noisy chaos erupted.
"What, she vanished? Where'd you go?"
"Just took a short walk."
"Aha."