I Became a Cyberpunk Tycoon

Refining (5)

Stella City wasn't a warm space deserving of good reviews from everyone. But that's not to say it was a prison for all.

For the wealthy, Stella City was a place where everything except safety could be obtained.

It wasn't a good place to stay for those who found starving poor people unpleasant, but otherwise, one could enjoy virtually everything available in any major city.

The same was true for the poor. No matter how much Stella City exploited humans, it couldn't be more brutal than nature itself.

If you walk out of the city and into the wasteland with its war ruins, you would realize that uncivilized nature doesn't even consider humans as cheap labor or objects of contempt and humiliation.

For the poor, Stella City wasn't a space they could choose, but an inevitable fate. It was an absolute entity they had to follow, whether they liked it or not.

But even setting that aside, the city had its merits.

"Bullet marks?"

"From an old rifle used in the Eastern Bloc. Looks like the bullet was fired around 4 AM yesterday."

San Suhwa could tell what gun fired the bullet and when just by glancing at the bullet marks.

"Seems like there were no casualties."

"If there were, more horrific traces would remain."

It was a precarious show of force. Tension between gangs was rising.

"...Chilling."

No other city could provide the volatility and stimulation that Stella City could offer.

If you want to watch a snuff film, just walking around on the streets would suffice. It was a place where people getting shot and falling down could happen anytime.

Office workers who lost in corporate disputes had to pay the price. The victors devoured the fallen to become even stronger.

A newly hired employee could achieve rapid promotion by making significant contributions, and a company that seemed fine just yesterday could find itself on the streets overnight due to terrorism or conspiracy.

Such fluidity was even more severe in gang conflicts. If a rookie who just joined a gang was lucky enough to shoot an enemy in the head, that newcomer could be put in charge of a lower organization overnight.

Mercenaries were no different. A youth who had just started mercenary work could take on a "should-have-died" major mission, succeed, and become rich overnight.

Years of built-up career and implants collected from various places could disappear with a single bullet.

Regardless of who you currently were, anyone could become a great person. It could happen to anyone with a bit of skill, massive ambition, and even greater luck.

Some called it a dream.

San Suhwa called for me. I pulled myself out of my contemplation and continued walking down the street.

"I didn't expect gangs to be moving already. Too much unnecessary fuss."

"They're manpower that can move immediately without any cost. The real preparations are probably happening elsewhere."

This was a conflict zone. Basically, it was Macheonpa's territory, but there were many gangs eyeing the area.

"Who could it be?"

"Smells like drugs, so it's likely Ghoul. But I'm not certain."

Some people found human value in their labor, but others found it in the flesh itself.

Vagrants were already part of this city. Without citizenship, no one would look for them if they disappeared, and even the police wouldn't care if no bodies were found.

Ghoul was a gang that kidnapped such people to remove their implants and sold them for biological experiments.

Those who needed living people were obviously companies dealing with drugs and biotechnology.

After supply and demand emerged, a market for selling human bodies was established in this city.

"Eliteroza... I didn't think they'd be involved."

"They probably thought it was dangerous just having a reason to communicate with the outside from inside the factory."

This show of force was just the beginning. Other companies would gradually start pressuring Hansan, and the first to die would be gangs attached to Hansan.

"There was a need to clean up."

You can't kill all gang members. That's as unrealistic as rounding up all drug addicts in this city.

As a city that valued freedom, the city didn't try to control drug use by law.

Drugs with excessively strong effects were prohibited in principle, but the city's police were too exhausted to round up addicts.

"Gangs don't need to be too strong."

I heard that Macheonpa's membership had increased. The reason was obvious.

The more I appeared on TV and caught people's attention, improving Hansan's image, the more Macheonpa's intimidation factor rose along with it.

Macheonpa was using people who liked me. It wasn't something I was happy about.

But that wasn't what mattered. Other companies were reacting to my actions, and that resistance was much stronger than I thought.

I needed to prepare countermeasures.

"I'm a bit late. Sorry about that."

Three mercenaries were looking at me. Perhaps because they had rested for a long time, their bodies looked not just fine but vibrant.

That was fortunate. From now on, they would have to work quite hard.

***

"What does he want?"

Luna was tapping the table with her finger, thinking about the man who had summoned them here.

Doris also frowned seriously. Her belief was that an employer just needed to pay well, but this employer felt a bit different.

It was certain that he had been monitoring them. She hadn't reported to Hansan about the plan to lure out those who were tracking Doris's mercenary group.

There was no reason to go this far. If he had such capabilities, there was no need to hire them and even less reason to protect them.

"This implant... it's frustrating."

"Why? Isn't it comfortable? I really like these ears."

Ravina twirled her elongated rabbit ears. The ears' rotation speed gradually increased until they were spinning like propellers.

"Aren't they super cool?"

"Don't be noisy in the restaurant...?"

The frustration wasn't about the implant's performance. On the contrary, it was too comfortable and seriously good.

If Doris's original implants were a trash can in an underground slum, the ones she was using now were like a detached house in a sunny spot.

But that raised her standards more than it increased her abilities. Just as someone living in a basement can't see the world, but once they come out, they can see tall buildings stretching far into the distance.

Most of the "originally available" capabilities of this implant were locked. It wasn't intentional control.

Basically, it was a combat implant prepared for Hansan's private soldiers. They couldn't allow a mercenary like her to use ballistic calculation devices or situation analysis devices connected to Hansan's central computer.

"This is ridiculous. To win, how many guys with these implants would I have to kill...?"

She had received a favor. She was saved by someone from Hansan, and she had been given implants that were worth far more than her life.

But the dagger lodged in her heart hadn't disappeared. Though the edge might have dulled a bit, when the time came to use it, she would draw it.

She could sense his relaxed smile. The enhanced implants told her he was wearing a mask.

But even if she removed that mask, Doris wouldn't be able to understand him.

Why had he worried about her body? How could he have thought to administer a sedative in that urgent situation?

Whatever plans he was making, at the very least, he was an executive at Hansan. A renowned individual who could casually use a member of the San family as a guard.

She wouldn't be surprised if the man before her eyes was an illegitimate child of the Hansan family. It was inexplicable.

"I'm sorry. I was busy with work, so I couldn't see your discharge in person."

"...Thank you."

But Doris couldn't hold her head up stiffly in front of him.

"Good job. I mentioned it on the phone, but I'll say it again. The mission I assigned is over. You can consider it a success."

Everything was strange.

The man who was so concerned about security that he called them on a crude wired phone had summoned them to a hamburger restaurant that was by all accounts far from secretive.

Perhaps security was no longer needed. After putting that information in her head, Doris waited for him to speak again.

"If you think you've rested enough, I'd like to put in another request. Would that be alright?"

"Without a broker?"

"We don't need such things between us."

A mercenary who accepted contracts without a broker was virtually third-rate.

It's not like she could go to the police if she was cheated out of money, and for an executive of the Hansan Group, discarding Doris would be easier than eating a slice of cake.

But refusing this was dangerous. If Hansan wanted to maintain contact with her, she needed to keep this connection until the very end.

She had many questions. Whether he had predicted all of this from the beginning and why he had given them these implants.

But the moment she asked, this peace would likely shatter. Doris couldn't bring herself to open her mouth.

"It's an escort request. Can you do it?"

Refusal was impossible. Doris slowly nodded.

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