Raze City - 1
Isan. From Unified Korea. Age 26. That became my new identity.
"Those fuckers think this is some kinda paradise or what?"
"Let 'em be. Looks like they won't last three days before they croak anyway."
"Three days? I'll give 'em one."
"Wanna bet?"
Just like in my past life, the checkpoint staff were uniformly assholes. Back then, there was that unspoken rule of no harming gatekeepers, so they didn't outright spit in your face. But here, where they held all the power, they ignored me like I was trash.
They didn't even think I'd snap and attack—didn't touch the rifles slung across their chests, just shot me contemptuous glares.
Through battles, I'd been reborn as a man who feared no bullets... but.
Lena's car aimed at by automated turrets, cameras filming me from all sides, and at least a dozen guards. No way I was forcing it.
I just held back because I couldn't start my new life as a wanted man. Plus, thinking about the endless malicious complainers and thugs so unlike me that those guards dealt with daily, I could let this slide.
Wishing they'd suffer the worst customers right after me, I headed back to Lena's waiting ride.
"Fucking pricks, huh?"
As I climbed in, Lena asked with that I know everything look.
"Just doing their jobs."
"Honestly, when you were just standing there earlier, I was worried you'd start some shit."
"What do you take me for?"
I hadn't given a single thought to how I could crack their skulls, so I answered calmly. I wasn't like those psycho serial killers infesting the martial world, after all.
The car pulled away smoothly, and Lena casually lit a cigarette, side-eyeing me.
"Want one?"
She deftly popped just one from the pack with her lips.
"Nah."
"What, chakra too low?"
"...Internal energy."
She snorted at my correction and lit up. Trailing faint smoke from her exhale, the car headed toward the distant city skyline.
Passing the outskirts' factories and warehouses, we entered the bustling downtown when Lena pulled over to the shoulder.
"Thanks for the ride."
As I went to step out with a "live well" and thanks, she handed me the bag she'd tossed in the back seat earlier.
"...What's this?"
"Folks from the village threw some stuff in."
Peering inside at her words, I saw a familiar pistol, a dagger, and a belt holster rigged for both on either side.
"Village folks? Feels like one specific person's tastes in there."
"Who knows."
Without looking my way, she held out a chip.
I took the thin sliver pinched between her fingers and shot her a questioning glance.
"Credit chip. Can use it as-is, but better grab a terminal and load it there."
"Appreciate it."
"Thank the village folks."
"Money's nice and all."
I pulled out the dagger from the bag. It was the one she'd loaned me, hidden in her boot—finely crafted, no cheap knockoff.
"But this is my favorite."
"...No one'll recognize it, but if some asshole asks where you got it, say Natsume gave it as proof."
"...This got a story?"
"......"
She gave a bitter smile instead of answering. Suddenly, I recalled that traitor's noisy rant.
...Hmph, a girl abandoned by her family yapping about family? Hilarious.
"What if I stab the nosy fucker?"
"...Never. Do that."
Not the answer I expected—she grabbed my hand holding the dagger and stared me down. Less anger, more worry I'd fuck up. When I met her gaze steadily, she averted her eyes and added,
"...Honestly, I don't know what you're thinking, so I'm wary. ...But before anything, learn all you can about Relics. Stay the hell away from corps as much as possible."
"Relics?"
"Ask around. You'll see why I told you."
"Got it."
Her tone was dead serious, so I nodded, pulling the belt from the bag and buckling it on. Holstering the pistol and dagger on either side gave a weird psychological boost.
"And this is just personal curiosity. Why Raze City? Unlike that woman, you don't seem tied here."
"......"
I pondered her question. Truth was, yeah. Raze was the nearest city across the wasteland just to survive—no special reason.
"No real plan. But... more to do than in the wasteland, right?"
"Fair. If the city gets old, come to Wells Town. Got a deputy spot open."
"...That's touchingly generous."
"Hope we cross paths again sometime, Isan."
"See you around, Sheriff Lena."
No honorific, but she looked satisfied, a smile tugging her lips as she drove off.
Watching the receding car, my past life's final words resurfaced.
One cola and a whole chicken... then I'd have no regrets.
Too chaotic since waking up to feel that craving till now.
Hell, you close your eyes in death, then snap 'em open to that twisted horror? Terror overrides dying wishes.
Just shock and fear.
"Shoulda said I came for cola and chicken."
Might've gone viral. Chuckling at the dumb thought, I pictured whoever was in that vanishing car and stepped into Raze City's streets.
Whiiiirrr. Clank.
The elevator to the lowest level opened, shattering the thick silence blanketing the room.
Through the parting doors stepped a tall man in a long black coat, his head fully encased in a full-face helmet—no face visible.
But his expression? The helmet's visor doubled as a display, showing emoticon approximations.
The light panned left and right like scanning the room, then hit the wreckage in the corner and flashed an exclamation mark.
"Doctor Benhem. Doctor Benhem. Doctor Benhem."
Playfully calling out to the long-dead, reeking corpse, the man crossed the room.
"Really got got, huh?"
Up close, peering at the grotesquely twisted old man's face like he couldn't fathom what happened, he spoke in mock surprise.
"Test subject do you in? Gamma? Alpha?"
Each question popped a question mark on his face display. Voice and icons seemed comical at first, but addressing a corpse made it a bizarre one-man show.
"Ah, Alpha—that's you! Finally realized your universal purpose and ended that pathetic life!?"
"Curious. So curious."
He extended his left hand toward the fallen wreckage, each massive character lighting his face in turn.
Shrrrrk!
Red-glowing tendrils shot from his fingertips, writhing like living things as they burrowed into the monster's skull.
Soon, the tendrils extracted a sealed cubic container from the brain—severing intricate artificial nerves like paper, depositing it in his right palm.
A brain floated in unknown translucent fluid, mangled parts jumbled together.
"Alright, let's take a peek."
Psssh!
His visor hissed open, red tendrils surging out to link with the box.
Schlurp.
They devoured it whole. The visor sealed silently, and he stood frozen.
"Oh ho."
"Ooo...."
Two massive exclamation marks exploded on his face, and he burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha! HAHAHAHOT!!"
His booming cackles echoed through the basement. Wheeling around, he thrust a hand at a nearby terminal.
Red tendrils plunged in, sucking data straight to him.
"Well, damn! What fun research you were up to! For a universal hack like you, top-notch stuff. Whatever you did—made a Relic? Adapted to one? Or bad timing heart attack? Nah! Heart crushed! By a test subject barehanded!"
His voice crescendoed from shout to shriek.
"I should be doing this research! No thanks needed, Doctor Benhem! This genius—Doctor Benhem—will carry on your work!"
Shrrrrk!
Thrashing wildly in his frenzy, the red tendrils shredded everything—walls, ceiling, floor gouged deep like slashed by blades. Dustless devastation, and he laughed till the basement shook.