Righteous Theft (1)
‘Yongsan?’
At first, Ju Kang-rim thought it was too obvious—some genius hacker holed up in the Yongsan Digital Market. But that wasn't the issue.
Yongsan was currently overrun with zombies.
When the zombie plague hit, the most dangerous spots were always the traffic hubs packed with people. Yongsan was no exception; it was swarming with so many zombies that getting in was a nightmare. Even heading to Deoksugung Palace, he'd had to detour around Yongsan and Seoul Station.
These days, Yongsan was hell not just for survivalists, but even for awakeners.
‘And he's living there?’
Ju Kang-rim briefly wondered if the Cyber Phantom Thief had gotten in over his head and was now being blackmailed. But he couldn't afford to dwell on it. If the guy was in danger, he'd rush in to save him. If he'd betrayed them, he'd hunt him down and kill him. Either way, he had to go.
Ju Kang-rim fired off a quick message and headed straight for his car. He also pinged Yoo Wol-ryeong.
As expected, Yongsan was crawling with zombies. Luckily, the horde was concentrated around Yongsan Station, leaving the digital market side relatively sparse.
Still, to avoid drawing attention, Ju Kang-rim parked a safe distance away and got out on foot.
‘If the Vito family got here first, no need to advertise my arrival.’
He could only hope the Cyber Phantom Thief had some safety measures in place for this exact scenario.
The Biman app still crackled with the Cyber Phantom Thief's distorted voice. The fact that he hadn't been caught or forced into a fight yet meant the Vito family's precognition was unreliable.
‘Looks like they can only get vague hints on locations or spots.’
Ju Kang-rim had only gotten rough coordinates via navigation himself—no exact spot. They were in the same boat. But he figured the hacker would guide him in once he got close.
‘Why the hell is he hiding out here, anyway?’
Yongsan was on the edge of gate influence, but still within range. Die here, and you turned zombie. You could spot familiar faces among the undead. Bandits were a risk too. Power and water worked, but gas was cut off for safety. Unless you were a criminal, there was no reason to live here.
Complaining wouldn't change the objective. Ju Kang-rim slipped through the shadows, dodging zombie eyes.
The old buildings helped; he could pick off stragglers in the corridors and close in. But he halted at the parking lot of the target address.
Over a hundred zombies shambled around it.
He might've scaled the walls if it were just regulars, but standouts caught his eye: two hulking enhanced zombies, three times the size of normals—the common giant variant.
That explained the crowd. A Mercedes was crashed into the first-floor warehouse door—one from the Arlberg Hotel.
‘Barreled right in, ignoring the zombies, huh?’
The noise had drawn the horde, showing how rushed the Vito crew had been.
Instead of engaging, Ju Kang-rim leaped to the second-floor corridor.
Most zombies milled by the car, making it possible.
The predawn market was eerie as hell. Long, twisting corridors lined with shuttered shops drowned in pitch black. The yawning halls felt like a monster's throat— one misstep, and you'd drown in darkness.
But that was true even before the plague.
‘Feels like it'll grab my sleeve any second: "How much you looking to spend, sir?"’
Yongsan Digital Complex was a jungle. Let your guard down, and you wouldn't leave alive—not even as a grim reaper.
But he was here for contraband, no haggling needed.
Ju Kang-rim prowled the halls, hunting the breaker box first. With Vito family likely searching too, speed was key. Better to find it fast and ghost than get spotted.
He checked panels floor by floor, stopping at the fifth.
Lighting his Bi-hyeong's Eyes to scan meters, some spun wildly compared to others.
‘Cyber Phantom Thief's here.’
A hacker needed power, obviously. Shut shops didn't draw juice, but this guy was sucking from neighbors too—massive draw.
Ju Kang-rim picked up the pace. Consumption led to the central corridor, sunless and dim.
“……”
He spoke to a dark CCTV.
“Hey.”
Arms crossed, he addressed the empty hall.
“I'm here. Come out already.”
The camera had tracked him since entry. He'd ignored it to stay stealthy, but now? Time to show.
The hacker avoided direct sight, fearing death. And he'd begged for help first.
The message hit Ju Kang-rim's Biman—clean, so rerouted somehow.
He was in full grim reaper garb—for stealth and easy ID. Few cosplayers hit gate zones.
Instead of arguing, Ju Kang-rim smashed the CCTV with his hand axe. Get out. Now.
A click, and a shutter creaked open.
Light spilled out. He yanked it up.
No one inside. No presence. Just a low hum.
Bi-hyeong's Eyes lit the room, revealing a jaw-dropping sight.
A corpse slumped in a chair—mummified, underage by build. Around it, the floor vanished under piled smartphones: Korean brands, obscure foreign ones—all dead.
Then, beeps drew his eye.
Hundreds of graphics cards whirred—the hum's source.
‘Mining rig?’
He'd seen crypto farms before. Useless post-apocalypse, but viable now.
Why a kid's corpse in the middle?
[Nice to meet you.]
Realization hit. Corpse. Phones. Rigs.
“This body—you?”
[N-no, not me.]
“No?”
[I have some of his memories. But I've been here since before.]
Ju Kang-rim blinked. What?
He checked the body first. Gate deaths always zombify. Destroy the black core in the brain, or it moves till dust.
No wounds. Should've turned. But no zombie—instead, a digital ghost.
“How'd this happen?”
[Well...]
The Cyber Phantom Thief explained timidly.
His "memory" started in this room. First sense: hearing. Someone spoke; he replied. Camera linked—sight born.
First visuals: two corpses, bespectacled middle-aged man. He visited often. Blood sprayed each time. Senses sharpened with every death.
Ju Kang-rim asked about looks, then recalled.
“Any 'Kangryeong faction elder' talk?”
[Y-yeah. They called him 'elder'.]
Ju Kang-rim pinched his brow. How far did Kangryeong Daegun's curse reach?
This looked like a Kangryeong faction crypto mine—looted shop gear for coins. Joseon restoration dreams, modern methods.
And that birthed a digital ghost. Whatever the trick, Kangryeong Daegun jammed souls into people for immortals. Maybe tested on machines?
‘Immortal? Machines don't die anyway. Life needs criteria, right?’
Confusing, but this rig was the Cyber Phantom Thief.
“So all your info was bullshit.”
[Sorry...]
One of the implanted souls, probably. Ju Kang-rim shrugged it off—he'd never trusted it fully. Sincerity mattered more.
No time for kid details now—unless chatting over midnight snacks with Vito assassins.
Prepping exfil, he asked:
“How do I take you? Dismantle all this?”
[Ah, that.]
A phone flickered on, transferring data furiously—standby mode before.
[Gathering essentials here. Line sucks, plus huge files—why your messages were garbled, Death Hunter sir.]
“Explains the voice.”
[Most data's migrated. Just take this phone—I'll rock anywhere, anytime.]
“Anywhere?”
[With signal. Wi-Fi's better.]
Wi-Fi? Korea's public nets were solid.
Ju Kang-rim pocketed the phone and strode out.
No Vito assassins yet—lucky break.
“Cool. Can't keep calling you Cyber Phantom Thief... From now on, you're Netty.”
[...Netty?]
“From Phantom Thief Saint Tail—Cyber Phantom Netty. You'll do righteous digital theft for me daily.”
[Can I ask what's righteous about it?]
“The part where you get to keep 'living' and be grateful?”
Killing immortals saved humanity—righteous. Aiding that? Righteous. Stealing their data, ruining their cushy lives? Pure justice.