Ransel
Entering the office, Darin was still hunched over her keyboard, thumping it with that same exhausted rhythm.
She glanced up when she saw me.
Her face, half-hidden behind glasses that kept sliding down her nose, looked tired as ever.
"What's up? Why the early visit? I didn't even expect you to come back."
That casual dismissal, as if I were just another task to be handed over.
I had expected exactly that. After all, I had nothing to offer—no background, no proven abilities. It was only natural that she wouldn't be eager. Besides, she hadn't even bothered to ask my name.
"Did you expect me?"
"Not really expecting you. Just anticipating it. This one caught me off guard, though."
I dropped the body bag containing Geila Gibtern's remains onto the counter. Darin lifted it without the slightest hesitation, her eyes widening at the unexpected weight.
"You just brought this? How light did you think it would be?"
Her strength was beyond what any normal person could manage, and it wasn't just raw power—it came from a stat I had deliberately added to her character sheet. A hidden attribute that granted extra effects beyond the usual level-ups. Body reinforcement that only triggered under certain conditions, or even constant madness-boosting properties.
But I couldn't explain any of that to her. The line between game and reality had become too blurred for such explanations to hold weight.
I simply shrugged. She didn't expect an answer anyway; she immediately unzipped the bag.
Geila Gibtern's face was just as I remembered—messy black hair matted with blood, dark circles sunken into his skull.
"Uwa… damn. How did you even kill him? He looks worse than this."
Darin made a face at the ruined body. I reached out and gently touched his nose. He was still breathing. Alive. Whether that was enough to save him or not was beside the point; my job was finished.
"He's still alive."
"Oh? But your face—"
I brushed a finger across my split lip. Blood had started trickling.
"I took a few hits, that's all."
"You're tougher than you look, huh?"
Darin chuckled dryly, already slipping on gloves. Her movements were practiced, precise. She checked the body for the bounty within seconds.
"Confirmed. It's Gibtern. You want the reward?"
I nodded. Darin counted out eighteen hundred thousand credits—eighteen crisp notes—without a word.
"This is after the ten percent fee. I could've paid in another way, but since you don't have any ID, cash it is."
"Ten percent… yeah, that's fair."
"Speaking of which, you never told me your name."
Darin's tone was flat, as if she had forgotten on the spot. She handed over the money but never asked who I was. Whether it was genuine indifference or deliberate apathy, it didn't matter.
"Name… name…"
Since I had fallen into this world, I hadn't thought about it once. Every waking moment had been consumed by survival. Maybe I still believed I was still myself. Or maybe I had been trying to avoid the truth.
I could be wrong. The me I knew was dead, and this version might be something else entirely. What defined me—my body, my mind, my memories, or perhaps my soul?
The question was too vague. It had no single answer, yet every answer would change me. If I declared that I was no longer myself, would I actually become different?
I already knew the answer. Even if I denied my own existence, I would still exist. I existed as me, and nothing could replace that. That was why I was not that thing. I was me.
My gaze drifted to the body bag on the counter. The one carrying Gibtern's remains. I swallowed the name that had surfaced in my mind.
For a split second, the silence stretched. The moment froze, and in that tiny space of time, I locked in my own definition. The name I had just spoken began to function immediately. Names were never complicated. They were simply what you chose to believe.
"Ransel."
The job was done, so I received the notification telling me to wait for the next assignment.
I stepped out of the office and began walking the streets. Tension finally drained away, and the sudden crash of adrenaline and madness hit me like a truck. The bruises from my crude brawl. The twisted ankle from the bad landing when I fell from the building. My already ruined body had been through enough.
"I was too naive."
Because the game had become real, I was still judging this world by the standards of my old life. I couldn't break a wall with my bare hands, and I couldn't dodge a bullet. But those rules no longer applied here. With mana, I could shatter stone or dodge gunfire effortlessly. It was a miracle—human flesh wielding power that transcended humanity—and it was simply natural in this world.
I finally understood that. I had thought I had tied up the cables and noticed the lack of weapons, but my speed and strength had far exceeded my expectations. I didn't know exactly where Gibtern ranked, but I knew one thing: if I kept taking these jobs, I would eventually face someone who could jump over him.
Would I still be able to handle it the same way? Would I be able to rely only on punches and spells when the time came?
I reminded myself: this world was real and a game at the same time. I could no longer explain it with the laws of my original life. Since the original was a game, the power balance would only grow steeper with each passing day. When that day arrived, I would not win so easily. I might not even survive if I didn't prepare.
I had no desire to die crawling through the dirt like an insect.
The answer was already decided the moment I asked the question.
I stopped in front of a clear glass window. Through it, I could see the city lights, and between me and the lights stood my own silhouette. The faint glow cast a strange smile onto my face. The same restless excitement still burned inside me.
But was the difference this time that it would last longer?
I stared at my reflection for a long moment before turning away. Beyond the people dressed in familiar combat gear from my previous life, I noticed something new in the shadows of the back alleys. Figures wearing clothes that didn't match anything I had seen before. They carried weapons—pistols, rifles, and even strangely modified tools that looked like they had been hacked together. Similar, yet different. The same, yet not.
In this world, such things were probably normal.
There was no reason left to hesitate. I had eighteen hundred thousand credits in my pocket. Compared to before, it was more than enough. I had already decided what I would do with it. All that remained was to go out and get what I needed.
I clenched the thick wad of bills in my pocket and kept walking through the blinding neon of the crowded streets. The night in the bustling district grew deeper.
A lively commercial street lined with shops. Unlike the rougher districts, this area hummed with activity and a sense of safety.
I stopped in front of a large weapons store at the edge of the district. From inside, I could hear the faint crack of gunfire mixed with music. This was the place to buy the highest-quality firearms in the neighborhood. Inside, one side displayed rows of guns, while the other had a shooting range where you could actually test-fire them.
It was nothing like home, and certainly not Korea, so guns should be easy to find. Such places weren't strange here.
I stepped inside, recalling the image I had stored away long ago. About a dozen people were carefully selecting their weapons.
"Too heavy. Got anything else?"
"Recommend something that won't break even if you beat it with a gun. What? You wanna use a gun to play baseball? Shut up. You don't know anything."
"The grip feels uncomfortable… it doesn't fit my build."
"If your chest is that big, you probably won't find anything that fits."
I watched them with mild interest and slipped into the aisle myself, starting to browse.
I was preparing for the day I would face someone stronger than Gibtern. Not by learning magic, but by purchasing firearms.
'I have mana, but I need other means besides learning spells.'
My talent let my mana pool grow exponentially even with basic casting. But that didn't guarantee I would always have enough. One day the mana would run dry, and it would already be too late. How could I claim I would never face that situation?
After finishing my thoughts, I picked up a revolver from the display.