Putato, still asleep leaning against the car window, was jolted awake by Zulu. He felt sore all over.
"Putato, get out of the car."
Putato yawned, noticing it was almost dark. He hastily rummaged for the black bag containing the goods.
But he felt nothing.
"Relax, the money's with me."
"I thought we'd only get gas money. I didn't expect you, kid, to actually sell those things at their market value. Your business acumen is truly top-notch."
Zulu checked the cash. The subordinate guarding the factory gate quickly saluted him.
Indeed, this group had no good intentions. They gave him a pile of trash and still expected him to meet standard performance targets—it was pure exploitation of labor.
Entering, Putato found that although the place was still a bit chaotic, all the vendors selling dangerous items had returned.
Putato looked at the bottles and jars covered with danger signs and decided it was better to spend as little time here as possible.
"You're not dead yet."
Parui, who now wore a yellow spiked collar, looked at Putato with annoyance and signaled someone to open the passage.
Putato pulled off the red-sleeved jacket draped over his shoulder and threw it to Parui. It had been stripped from a member who had attacked the refrigerated truck.
Regarding the corpse: Putato had originally wanted to loot it, but those guys only brought weapons to work and nothing else. On the scene, only this piece of clothing remained unstained by blood.
He had originally intended to take it back to the clinic to use as a doormat.
"This time, I brought you a local specialty from my business trip. This fabric is very durable."
Leaving a bewildered Parui holding the jacket, Putato and Zulu made their way through the dormitory area to the manager's office.
Gyeong-mi had both feet propped on the desk, his right elbow resting on the railing as he flipped through a credit note. The Thumb's emblem was visible on the back of his hand.
"Done. Here's the money for the goods."
Zulu placed the black bag down and stood beside Gyeong-mi, prompting Gyeong-mi to set aside the letter and stand up.
Putato, facing Gyeong-mi's aggressive gaze, didn't flinch. Even Gyeong-mi's intimidation couldn't compare to the horror of that cannibal Chef.
"Putato, you know I value promises above all else, and I naturally despise traitors."
"Boss Gyeong-mi, at Good Office, I was only forced to join the Brotherhood of Iron. Otherwise, I would have died like Khaji."
"Alright, alright, I'm tired of the excuses."
"I want you to make a promise to me."
Gyeong-mi walked up to Putato with an imposing air. The 1.9-meter tall man had to slightly lower his head to meet Putato's gaze.
His exaggerated muscular undershirt and the sharp, distorted black tattoos exuded an authoritarian and domineering aura.
"Join Stray Dogs, obey orders, and never betray."
"Of course, I will heed your will."
"I also promise you, our Syndicate's subsidy will only increase, never decrease. As for additional bonuses, that depends on your own effort."
"Thank you for your generosity. I will surely repay it with loyalty."
Putato lied without batting an eye. Stray Dogs was merely a stepping stone to enter a Corporation.
To reach the pinnacle of The City, one must be prepared to trample over everything.
"I don't care for making oaths of loyalty, but I will show anyone who dares to violate our agreement exactly how I became the boss of Stray Dogs."
"You passed. Now go report to Parui."
No, Bro—I worked so hard on this trip, and I'm still just a regular member?
His suffering was for nothing, then.
[Acquired Work Talent: Wild Dog Tattoo]
[Description: Tattoos are badges that declare violence, yet also a shell that protects a soft, sensitive core.]
[Effect 1: Your capacity for tattoo augmentations is greatly enhanced.]
[Effect 2: You gain mastery over close-quarters combat.]
[Effect 3: Upon making physical contact with an enemy in combat, you can automatically create an tattoo pigment, tattooing yourself up to your current maximum load capacity.]
Tattoo augmentations were once a Singularity technology belonging to a Wing, but since that Wing fell, it had become widespread.
The effects of surgical modification varied depending on the composition and quality of the pigment, but it clearly enhanced muscular strength and could even make the skin as hard as steel.
It could be called a relatively perfect method for gaining strength in The City. Unfortunately, the only drawback was the limited surface area for tattoos.
But Putato knew that if it were him, tattoos would be prioritized for engraving inside his body—on organs or bone surfaces.
If he filled himself inside and out with tattoos, could he one-punch a Color Fixer?
Putato was overjoyed by such a combat-growth talent. His inner power also swelled.
Gyeong-mi noticed Putato's lingering presence and the respectful bow. He rolled his eyes.
"You dog, even without you saying it, I know what you want."
"Stray Dogs, besides me, has executives and squad leaders below. By your demeanor, you're already aiming for a squad leader position, huh?"
A slightly overconfident Putato felt he was performing well and quickly nodded.
But Gyeong-mi's face darkened, and he kicked over the desk.
"You think I'm running an open market where you can pick and choose? Do you want me to just hand over my leader position?!"
"You're not aiming for my head, are you?!"
Putato quickly lowered his head at those words, but inwardly, a new door had opened.
If only he could temporarily borrow a leader position from another organization, he would return it after acquiring the Talent.
Although absurd, it seemed possible for a one-man organization to exist in the chaotic City.
"But your money-making ability is indeed good. Let's stick to the language you know best."
"Even if you want to be a Squad Leader, I don't have enough manpower to assign to you now. So, how about this: you find some subordinates yourself. I want you to deal with the Axe Gang's boss."
"If you dare to take this bet with me, I'll make you an Executive directly."
The sudden wager left Putato slightly dazed.
The Axe Gang wasn't some insignificant group; it was an Urban Legend Syndicate, just like Stray Dogs.
Having him go alone to assassinate a Syndicate boss felt a bit fantastical. Putato humbly admitted he was still no match for Gyeong-mi.
But the thought of reaching the pinnacle of The City made Putato feel he had no time to waste in The Backstreets. He had to quickly grow strong and enter a Wing.
The City wouldn't wait for anyone. Once his knowledge of the "plot" vanished amidst these drastic changes, the difficulty of becoming the peak of The City would only increase.
His ability to navigate every organization relied on his intelligence advantage. Otherwise, even with the help of his Work Card, he would still face continuous difficulties.
"I'll take that bet."
"Hahahaha! You're the most arrogant bastard I've ever met! Everyone else just talks tough and dreams big, but you actually dare to agree!"
"Get out."
Putato bowed, then turned and left. He absolutely had to gather information about the Axe Gang first; otherwise, he wouldn't know where to start.
Walking through the bustling dormitory area, the Stray Dogs members didn't greet Putato. Instead, they leaned over their balconies, watching him leave alone.
"Looks like you passed. Otherwise, Executive Zulu would have thrown your corpse out."
"Hey, let's just forget about that incident. I'm not one to hold a grudge."
Putato stopped as he stepped out of the passage, somewhat surprised to see Parui. It was unexpected for the man in the spiked collar to speak such words.
Putato had thought these Syndicate members were like him, always seeking revenge. Could they actually reconcile?
Seeing Putato's expression, Parui scoffed in annoyance.
"Your outfit is pretty good. It's my sister's birthday today, and I've been too busy lately to buy her a gift. Consider it a small favor to me."
"Is that so?"
Putato replied with a smile, but this small warmth quickly dissipated before his firm resolve to reach the top.
"Then give my regards to your sister. Tell her Putato wishes her a happy birthday."
"Nice try."
...
Retrieving the Biological Scythe—a veritable work of art—from the passenger seat, Putato intended to go now and truly restore the Brotherhood of Iron.
The massive [uni·n] logo consisted of only two colors, black and white, completely unlike the flashy neon signs around it.
Two exaggerated security guards with six sharp claws extending from their backs bowed in welcome to every customer entering.
"Welcome. May I ask if the guest wishes to submit for repairs or proceed with Component Reclamation?"
The surrounding white walls left Putato a bit confused. Aside from the white carved seats in the center of the spacious hall, there was nothing else.
Clearly, this was a prosperous commercial street overseen by two Associations, yet the company seemingly wasted such valuable land.
"Uh, I heard there's a Biological Simulacrum vendor here."
The City was a place of extreme divisions. Here, people fought with cold weapons that could cut through space, yet there were super-intelligent AIs possessing vast wisdom.
Therefore, the existence of Biological Simulacra was not strange. It was just that The City's regulations prevented them from looking exactly like humans.
A black-and-white suited attendant immediately pointed Putato toward a triangular-marked door on the left.
"Union Co.'s motto is to minimize trouble. You just need to tell the Weapons Master inside the room your requirements, and we will provide the product best suited to your expectations."
Behind the triangular door was a long reception counter. Various Biological Weapons floated in green liquid beneath the glass counter.
Blades, spears, swords, pikes, sharp claws, pointed horns—it seemed every organ in nature capable of attack had been optimized by Union Co.
Putato, holding the scythe, walked to reception station 3. He casually put away his recorder. Behind the counter sat an old man with a silver beard.
"Can your company's Biological Simulacra be compatible with Personality Chips?"
"Oh? Guest, you're not planning to personally modify the company's products, are you? If so, Union Co. refuses all future repairs."
"I'm just asking. How much is your cheapest model here?"
"Of course, I'm just asking to avoid trouble. If you want the cheapest, it's the Star Puppet series."
The short, bearded old man smiled and flipped open a small book, which clearly noted the Biological Simulacrum's various parameters.
Damn it!
Isn't this just a slightly more advanced sex doll?
Putato didn't dare imagine the expressions the three Brotherhood of Iron members would make if they discovered they had been reincarnated as adult toys.
"The quality is abysmal. Never mind the inability to withstand temperature extremes—how can anyone work with movements this stiff?"
"But it's affordable, you see. Guest, if you have specific requirements, just state them. Rest assured, we hold our clients' privacy in the highest regard."
Currently, Putato only had a month's Syndicate subsidy advanced to him alongside a substantial operating fund.
This operating fund was the money he had successfully recovered from the goods!
Don't let Gyeong-mi's impatient streak fool you; he was incredibly shrewd when it came to exploitation.
"Heh heh, guest, I've catered to many individuals with... unique tastes."
"For instance, those who torture an enemy to death but remain unsatisfied, or those who use someone else's Personality Chip to create pets, and so on."
"The most exquisite aspect of full-body Prosthetic modification is the Personality Chip. It can store complex emotions and even serve as the blueprint for a new brain."
"Inserting false memories is trivial. Some clients enjoy making their enemies address them as 'daddy.'"
Putato's perception of Union Co., which he once thought respectable, plummeted instantly. This place, despite its sterile cleanliness, was as depraved as any other corner of The City.
He had no interest in such twisted games.
"I need a Combat Biological Simulacrum, one fully compatible with a Personality Chip. If the quality satisfies me, I'll settle the entire debt with a single Promissory Note."
Hearing Putato's bold claim, the old man became even more eager, immediately switching to a different ledger.
"How about the Blade Runner? Its specialized gliding membrane allows for extended aerial maneuvers from high-rise buildings—ideal for reconnaissance and pursuit."
"Too many membranes, it looks hideous, and it can't even wear clothes. Next."
"The Terminator. This is Union Co.'s flagship product, integrated with top-tier hardware from major Workshops."
"Isn't that just a pile of expensive scrap? It even has a cannon. I can't afford that."
"Then this model best suits your request: the Ghost Walker basic model."
"Based on the Urban Runner, it combines the agility needed to traverse high-rise rooftops with lethal one-hit power. Purchase now, and we'll include a free long-handled horizontal blade—guaranteed premium quality."
"If I purchase three units of this model, can you offer a discount?"
"I would very much like to facilitate this transaction, but I lack the authority to discount goods. My apologies."
"However, I can offer free assistance in integrating your Screwdriver into one of the units."
"Deal!"
Putato had spent every cent of his hard-earned money, even having to endure a scolding from Gyeong-mi to secure additional funds.
Fortunately, the transaction was finalized.
The old man slowly wheeled out the three Biological Simulacra on a specialized cart. Putato immediately moved to inspect them.
"Wait. Your spending has reached the premium threshold. You are now a Union Co. member and may use the specialized trial room next door free of charge. Basic repair tools are included."
"The trial products within are not monitored. However, I must remind you: once the product leaves this store, it signifies your full satisfaction with the transaction, and the terms remain final."
After Putato nodded, the old man assisted in moving the products to the adjacent room.
This facility was designed to provide a testing frame for eager customers, but in reality, Weapon Masters were stationed here to upsell modification services.
Union Co.'s business model was truly ruthless, leaving no room for independent Workshops to profit.
Once the door was secured, Putato pulled out the radio and extracted all three Personality Chips.
"It really is a basic model. All the essential hardware and software are present, but it lacks advanced features. It can only overclock the test frame for brief intervals."
"Still, it's a massive upgrade over their previous bodies."
Three Biological Simulacra clad in leather coats stood before Putato, undergoing self-initialization. The sleek black frames radiated power. The center unit was now equipped with the massive Biological Scythe.
The orange indicators on their metallic heads flickered to life one by one.
The triangular display flickered.
"Putato, is this the new frame you mentioned? This is incredible!"
"I suppose I should address you as Senior Putato now."
This was Consta. Putato realized the boy had truly taken his lessons regarding the spirit of The City to heart.
The square display also illuminated.
"Indeed, my trust in you was well-placed. How many lifetimes would it have taken me to earn enough for such an expensive body?"
That was Arnold. Putato privately considered him the most pragmatic of the three Prosthetic individuals.
Finally, the circular indicators turned toward Putato, as Mo's Biological Scythe swayed rhythmically beside her.
"Putato."
"Sigh, Mo, I've explained this. I was worried you'd get restless and make a mistake, so I kept the details quiet until now."
"That's fine. Senior Putato is still reliable. I truly like this new frame."
"Isn't it for the best that it all worked out?"
Just as Putato prepared to placate Mo, he was suddenly pulled into an embrace. There was a faint scent of ozone in the air.
"Don't lie to me next time. You can deceive those two, but I'll know."
???
Consta and Arnold could only watch in utter confusion.