The Comfort of Violence

I exercised in the dark room for some time before collapsing back onto the floor, drenched in sweat. I tossed my clammy, soaked clothes into the washing machine as if throwing out trash and immediately lay down on the sofa. Aside from walks and exercise, I had virtually no daily routine, but I wasn’t short on money. The compensation the military provided under the guise of consolation money was more than enough to live on.

Rain fell outside the window. I emptied my mind while watching the various neon signs bleed across the rain-streaked glass. For a moment I picked up my phone—which held no saved contacts—and scrolled through the internet, but I closed it again soon after. Then I killed more time by staring blankly at the rainy scene beyond the window. Suddenly, for reasons I couldn’t name, a compulsive urge seized me. I couldn’t remain lying down for even five minutes before I rose and repeated my meaningless exercises. No further muscle would grow at this point, yet I dutifully ran through the familiar sequence. After wringing out another bout of sweat, I collapsed onto the floor once more.

The sound of rain falling outside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the window was clear to the point of irritation. I cooled my heated body against the cold floor and thought, This really won’t do…

It felt like I had to do something. But I didn’t know what. I couldn’t simply lie still on the sofa. This was no ordinary boredom; it was closer to a compulsive sense of duty. Even though I had no idea what it was, I felt I had to do it.

I dragged my exhausted body back to the sofa and turned on the TV. The once-cold room filled with the chaotic noise pouring from the screen. For a while I stared at the images without really seeing them. Then the medicine suddenly came to mind and I walked toward the water purifier. Rising onto my toes, I felt along the top shelf. Nothing.

“Ah…”

Had it run out already? Well, it had been nearly a month since my last hospital visit. They had told me to come every two weeks, but I had been killing time without thinking and completely forgot.

Come to think of it, there was a number that called so often I blocked it as spam.

Judging by the timing, it was probably the hospital’s reminder line.

“Haa.”

A headache bloomed, so I rubbed my dry face. Today had been the day I promised myself I wouldn’t go out because of the rain.

Still, I have to go. What choice do I have?

I pulled on the jacket hanging by the door without even bothering with a proper top. My plan was to get it over with quickly and return. I zipped the jacket, grabbed the clear umbrella near the entrance, and stepped out into the damp, musty hallway.

Some time later I returned home carrying a smaller packet of medicine. The moment I stepped inside I emptied one sachet and dropped irritably onto the sofa. Sleep showed no sign of coming, so I killed time by staring at the ceiling. I shook ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the diminished packet while blankly recalling the doctor’s words.

Yeah. No matter how ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you dress it up as medical use, it’s still a drug. There’s no way it’s good to keep depending on it.

Everything he said had been correct. An amateur should keep quiet.

Then my gaze fell on my legs. The limbs that used to twitch nervously were now lying perfectly still on the sofa, as if that had never been the case. These were my legs—scarred, faintly tanned below the thighs. Of course they were far thinner and softer than before, but they were still mine.

Cognitive dissonance began to creep in.

The medicine…

Suddenly it occurred to me that even if it wasn’t the medical variety, there were other routes. Yeah. Why had I only realized this now? There had been a way for me to obtain it myself instead of waiting blankly… with my own power.

It was a crime. Something I instinctively recoiled from. But right now, somewhere inside me, the thought surfaced that it didn’t matter—yes, if it wasn’t medical grade, I could simply acquire it through the underworld’s channels. No need to overthink it. Because I wanted it. That was all.

Having made up my mind, I immediately sat down in front of the computer. Once on the chair my feet dangled in the air; I had grown used to the position and naturally turned the machine on with my toes. Then I launched a browser equipped with anti-tracking functions.

Impulsively. Blankly. Honestly, I didn’t think about what would come afterward. I simply wanted to do this. Is this okay? It should be okay.

I stared at the screen in a daze. After a brief loading period the monitor glowed brightly. I typed quickly. All kinds of information immediately scrolled across the translucent display.

Of course there was no filtering. The data literally came up as everything. Sensitive information, every kind of illegal deal—it was all there.

So this was the archive. I hadn’t realized it while staying quiet, but the moment I decided to move, the information was ridiculously easy to find. Public security had collapsed after the war; they probably lacked the resources to police every little thing. The corporations in charge were that sort of bunch anyway.

Well, it’s a good thing for me.

As I scrolled, I cheered inwardly. A location-based search revealed a broker operating nearby. The drug with the same ingredients the doctor had prescribed in minuscule amounts could be bought in double the quantity for a single bundle of cash.

When I sent the message, the reply came quickly: the broker was also in the area and suggested meeting under the tunnel in twenty minutes. It was a distance I could walk easily.

I stared at the chat window and smiled faintly. Ah, what the hell am I doing? Still, going to see wouldn’t hurt. It was a crime, though. A crime—why do it on purpose? I might end up in danger instead.

……

Well… it didn’t seem all that important. Deep down, a small part of me also thought—if I ended up in danger, at least I might get to fight—?

What am I even saying.

I buried the unpleasant desire beneath a layer of pretense. I didn’t actually want to be in danger. Only if. Really, only if I ended up in danger would I have no choice but to fight. That was all. Yes—force majeure. Even though I was voluntarily walking into a place where the odds of danger were disgustingly high, it was still force majeure. It wasn’t because I wanted to.

Shall we go?

I pulled on the hoodie that had finished drying in the machine, then put the jacket over it. I grabbed the still-damp umbrella that stood fully open near the entrance and headed outside. This time my steps as I left the apartment were noticeably lighter and more buoyant than they had been that morning.

The place the broker operating under the ID Doc had chosen for the meet was dark and dismal. Inside the tunnel where rainwater pooled and refused to drain, the air reeked of mold. It led to an uninhabited zone on the city outskirts, so few vehicles passed through. A remote location like this was perfect for a rendezvous.

As I entered the lightless tunnel the sound of rain grew quieter. My light footsteps splashed against the concrete. Then a mechanical light flashed from one section of the wall.

I stopped reflexively and slipped a hand inside my jacket. A flustered voice immediately called out.

“Woah, woah. It’s me. I contacted you earlier, didn’t I?”

“If you’re there, make some noise. I almost put a hole in your head.”

“The young lady’s got quite a mouth on her. Not bad. Good that you don’t smell like a rookie.”

From the tunnel’s shadows emerged a lanky man easily twice my height. He carried no visible weapons. His shirtless torso made his condition obvious—ribs clearly visible beneath paper-thin skin. Yet I could find no device capable of producing the mechanical light I had detected.

The instant I registered that, I drew the pistol from inside my jacket.

“Stop. Take one more step and you die.”

“Wait, wait! Why are you suddenly like this?! Do I look that scary?”

“People who install cameras in their own eyeballs rarely have clean records.”

His expression stiffened. Anyone willing to sacrifice an eye for a camera couldn’t be sane. He was definitely tethered to someone else.

After a moment he waved his hands defensively.

“Ha, hahaha! Camera? It’s just a slight augmented display on the retina…”

An easily dismantled claim.

“If that were true the light would have been sharper. What I saw was clearly a reflection off a lens, not self-emission.”

The man who called himself a broker could not refute me. He fidgeted. Meanwhile, a strange catharsis was rising inside my chest.

Yes. This was it.

While my heart pounded, another sound came from the tunnel entrance. I spun quickly and leveled the gun.

Three people were already gathered there.

Perfect!

Ah, I really shouldn’t think that. The sliver of conscience I still possessed offered the thought. But I could not control my racing heart; I melted into the situation. It was literally force majeure. Not my fault.

The large man in the center spoke.

“The kid’s got sharp senses. That’s why you can’t judge by appearance alone.”

The one on the right was female, the middle one male. The figure on the far left appeared to be an illegally modified humanoid.

“She’s so small there probably aren’t any implants worth ripping out. Shouldn’t we just kill ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her and take the money?”

“Idiot. The fact that someone who looks like that came out so boldly means she’s either a kid who doesn’t know how the world works or a rich family’s spoiled child with a head full of screws. Better to use your brain.”

I fired a single shot at their feet while they chatted and said, “If any of you takes one step, you die. Just hand over the medicine quietly and disappear. I brought plenty of cash.”

……

The noisy atmosphere froze instantly. The large man in the center glared at me, red light flickering in his eyes.

“We’re not the ones in a hurry—you are. What makes you so confident?”

The woman beside him sneered. “It’s obvious you’re trembling in fear, yet here you are acting tough.”

Apparently my current appearance had caused them to underestimate me completely. I considered blowing the humanoid’s head off as a demonstration, but I sensed movement behind me and dodged instantly.

“Ugh—?!”

The lanky man who had tried to ambush me quietly swung his arm through empty air. I put two bullets into the leg he was falling on. Blood sprayed as he collapsed forward, screaming as though he were being wrung dry.

The group at the tunnel entrance visibly stiffened.

Ah.

My mind felt at ease. Strangely so. Like I had come home. Dopamine wasn’t flooding me, but it simply felt good. A comfort different from happiness. Even though I knew this was wrong, my heart could not help but like it. The urge was almost instinctive.

This shouldn’t be— Still, it wasn’t bad. It was a familiar feeling. This tension, this unpleasantness—every part of it was a harmony of emotions I enjoyed.

After a brief silence, the man’s cold, sunken voice echoed through the tunnel.

“You must be out of your mind.”

“Just give me the medicine. That’s the only business we have.”

“The young lady is quite bold.”

Suddenly I sensed several more presences deeper inside the tunnel. It seemed more than one or two had been hiding. I quietly began preheating my implants.

“A child who doesn’t know her place and runs wild needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Can we skip taking money for this one?”

“She looked pretty enough. Selling the body alone would cover it. Just kill her.”

The moment the words left their mouths I slipped between the thick pillars that crossed the center of the tunnel. Soon muzzle flashes lit the darkness from every direction. I offered a bitter smile as lead bullets grazed the pillar beside me.

Yes, I was nothing more than a child who had inevitably fallen into the filthy affairs of the underworld. Fighting was force majeure. Still, I could not hide my smile. It was not a happy smile, but an unpleasantly hot one that simply told me I was alive for the first time in a long while.

I gladly played along with their game.