The Naked Newbie and the Archive Tower
The city was alive with noise and chaos.
“Hah, what a fucking pervert!”
“Mom! That guy’s dick is huge!”
“Tsk, can’t even go crazy with some class.”
“Holy shit.”
Nice. Full of energy.
I melted into a corner of the Gallery City and wandered around, taking in the sights. That’s when I realized something. The city that looked so dazzling from the outside was far more chaotic than it appeared. Having crawled up from beneath the cliff, I already knew. This place was a whirlwind of wealth and poverty, reason and madness, the blurred line between good and evil.
‘Attention, proud workers of the Gallery City. Food rations are currently being distributed in D-Sector of the Lower District…’
‘Corpses and small bodies purchased at all times. For inquiries regarding toy doll purchases or reinforcement procedures, please visit Owen Medical Clinic—’
‘Vertical Company guarantees it. Anomalies are valuable resources that can replace the city’s limited energy supply. Therefore, any discourse regarding anomaly rights or safety is meaningless.’
‘Public service announcement. The overall contamination level of the Gallery City is currently rated favorable. Citizens may go about their daily lives with peace of mind. Repeating the announcement. The contamination level is favorable. The city is safe.’
I listened to the loudspeakers scattered throughout the city as I roamed. The public address systems installed everywhere, the advertisements spilling from buildings, even the propaganda slogans plastered on walls and the holographic screens woven from light—they all hinted at the city’s underlying madness.
After reading through the history threads organized in the gallery, I finally understood. In simple terms, the Gallery City was like a corridor connecting various Dioramas. But what exactly was a Diorama? Some kind of miniature world? That was the general idea.
Amid all this confusion, I pondered alone. What the hell was I in this place?
It seemed I had been reincarnated into another world. And not just any world—a fusion dystopia, at that.
“No, maybe I should say ‘transmigrated’ instead of reincarnated.”
I had never been reborn. I had never died. Even if I hadn’t realized it before, I had always been like this.
While conducting my little Gallery City tour, my eyes remained glued to the Corridor Walker Gallery. From the various information posts and the overall atmosphere, I could roughly piece together a few facts.
1. To use the Gallery City gallery, you must use an officially authorized ‘terminal.’ Unauthorized access may result in ‘sanctions’ from the Archive, so be aware.
2. All Corridor Walkers using the gallery must always use the ‘True Name’ designated by the Archive when posting. Impersonation or forgery will result in sanctions or permanent expulsion by the Archive. If you wish to change your True Name, please contact the relevant personnel…
The rest was just boring, pedantic mandatory reading. Instead, my attention shifted to the terminals that several people in the city were carrying. They looked familiar. They resembled the smartphones from a previous civilization. I was curious about what functions they had and how far those functions went. Seeing one again after so long felt strangely fascinating.
Or was it really “again”? Had I seen them before? Or was I simply under the illusion that I had? I wasn’t sure.
Feeling a sense of familiarity, I approached and spoke up.
“Hello~”
“Hm?”
Yes, polite speech was the bare minimum of human courtesy. It was also a tool for having civilized conversations with people whose heads had holes in them.
The woman in hakama who had been tapping on her terminal noticed me. Hmm, hakama with side slits. Very tasteful clothing. More importantly, the wakizashi and tachi she wore on her left hip suggested she was some kind of samurai. In a city where Eastern and Western genres were all mixed together, it wasn’t that strange. If anything, I was the odd one, completely violating the dress code in my naked state.
“The fuck? Who the hell are you? Some kind of pervert?”
Her reaction to my bare body was immediate. But I didn’t shrink back. I stood tall.
“Despite how I look, I am not a pervert. I have a question. Where can I get one of those?”
“…What, this?”
Yes. That. The terminal in her hand.
The samurai looked me up and down. It was obvious she was sizing me up. To me, it felt like being measured for a coffin. Hmm. So this is what shame feels like.
“Looks like this is your first time in the Gallery City. I don’t know which Diorama you crawled out of, but let me give you one piece of advice. If you approach people like that in this city, you’re gonna end up dead, you know?”
Her left hand moved to her waist with a click. She rested it there casually, like resting an arm on a railing, but the sharp trail of killing intent that brushed against my skin was vivid. Her weapons were a tachi and wakizashi. Dual wielding or hidden techniques? In the simplified mind of an immortal, only one thought surfaced.
The textbook of violence naturally unfolds.
Hmm. Is the gap this wide? Could I even make her bleed?
For a moment, the female samurai’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh?”
“Ah, wait. Wait. I don’t have any weapons.”
I had no intention of getting cut down in some random street slaying. For now, backing off was the best option. Being born a beggar, it seemed I wouldn’t be able to fight properly yet.
I took a step back, but the samurai didn’t lower her hand from her waist. Instead, she observed me with crossed arms.
“Hmm. So it’s different if you have weapons? You’re not just some random weakling, then?”
Whatever the case, the hostile atmosphere seemed to have dissipated. The female samurai gave me a crooked look and jerked her chin.
“If you want a ‘box,’ don’t ask me. Go to the Archive and register as a Corridor Walker.”
“Corridor Walker registration? They do that here?”
“Wow, you really don’t know anything. Were you locked up somewhere?”
It wasn’t imprisonment. Not exactly. It was only natural for an immortal to fall behind the times. Still, this kind of treatment felt strangely familiar. And why wouldn’t it? What was the point of an immortal learning how society worked? Everything was falling apart anyway. In an era where anarchism ran rampant, what good would it do to learn social norms? You’d just become the Anakin of anarchism.
Wait. Is this really another world?
Since I always woke up in complete ruins, seeing a world that somehow still functioned properly gave me a serious sense of disconnect.
While I was thinking that, the female samurai pointed toward a tower stretching between the skyscrapers.
“That round tower over there is the Archive. Stop bothering people and get lost.”
“Thank you!”
Tap!
With a quick word of thanks, I broke into a run. The feeling of my nipples becoming one with the wind. I paid no mind to the samurai glaring at me from behind.
As I ran toward the tower, something occurred to me.
“Hmm? That samurai must be a Corridor Walker too, right?”
Since she had a ‘box,’ she was definitely a Corridor Walker. Just to be sure, I opened the Corridor Walker Gallery.
It was a fresh post that had just gone up. Just from the speed at which comments were appearing and posts were sinking, the activity level was on another level.
“I don’t even have a nickname yet and I’m already getting nicknamed? Verification is basic manners. Basic manners!”
(Photo: Roughly the back view of a man running toward the tower with a plump ass)
He suddenly came up to me and asked what a ‘box’ was? Didn’t even know what Corridor Walker registration was. Looked like the kind of guy who’d die immediately, but his sense for measuring distance was sharp. Really strange dude. His physique and energy were trash, but his senses alone could rival my master. No exaggeration.
Hmm. Full of energy!
I wanted to jump right into the middle of them and join the conversation. From the atmosphere of the gallery, it didn’t seem like they looked out for each other. Every man for himself. And when necessary, they became temporary allies. Either way, it was a cold Gallery City. I needed to keep my wits about me!
“I’m here to use the gallery!”
“?”
It was what I said after walking up to the counter on the lowest floor of the Archive Tower and grabbing the attention of a haggard-looking employee.
She wore neat office attire, but her sleeves were wrinkled. Dark circles pooled heavily beneath her glasses. She gave off a strong sense of decadence.
“Hmm, you’re here to use the gallery?”
The employee seemed experienced; she remained calm even after seeing me naked. As expected, she looked like she worked fast! I nodded vigorously. She nodded back and shouted.
“Security!!”
And exactly five seconds after I entered, I was thrown out.
It took ten seconds for me to be kicked out the front door of the Archive Tower completely naked. The murmurs and stares from the crowd made me realize the truth.
Yes. If you want to play in the fishbowl, you have to become a fish first. Humans are social creatures, after all.
“I need to buy clothes first!”
Clothes were the minimum manners of being human! A promise to society!
“With this, I become a person!”
The rainbow-colored coin I held high above my head sparkled brilliantly.