"Haha, I am a member of Green Journey, aren't you precisely here for that?"
"Cone Lab has been destroyed by The Head. I'm merely surviving here with a Personality Chip, but the Wings of the World still won't let me go."
Putato looked at the man's lively flesh, feeling an inconceivable shock. He immediately thought of himself and couldn't help but speak.
This is definitely not the game world I know!
"So Green Journey was eliminated because you wanted to collectively transmigrate to another world? And I ended up here because of your experiment?"
"That's too absurd!"
Hearing his words, the man immediately roared excitedly.
"Absurd?!"
"You, who walked into the land of freedom, left all of us to endure all sorts of torment in this unbearable Hell. Now I'm simply asking you to return to your homeland!"
"The forest has been completely scorched black. We can't go either. Now, I can only turn my back on that light of freedom and seek freedom in the mud, to sever all relationships here!"
BOOM!
A huge vibrating noise emanated from the Black Cone. All the mirrors in the cathedral shattered visibly from inside out, then spread through the holes to the entire cult district.
Putato hastily dragged the man out of the cathedral. The other party was already bleeding from his eyes and nose from the vibrations. His physique was actually similar to that of a normal person.
Violently pressing the man to the ground, Putato turned around and saw the entire cult district erupt in pandemonium. The terrifying and magnificent scene left Putato utterly horrified.
ROAR!
Putato turned to look again. Innumerable coarse hairs covered human bodies. The frantic, roaring cries stirred up countless howling ripples. The next moment, an enormous tide of beasts, unlike anything he had ever seen, surged forth.
Such an outrageous scale! It would probably spell disaster for several Backstreets.
Putato immediately realized that the sound was likely a trigger method for a type of Hammer of Counter-Attack. Those Fixers had also transformed into beasts because of it. But why was he alone completely unaffected?
"Are you insane?! Why did you cause such a disaster?!"
"So many people, the stampede casualties alone will be in the thousands!"
The wildness now had literally materialized, flattening all the buildings in the cult district. It then rushed outwards, the shaking earth and frantic noise terrifying Putato.
"This brief, sorrowful freedom from The City, you can no longer comprehend, because you have cast Hell from your heart, just as you thoroughly wished to cast us aside!"
"Let them play freely! It's a pity that you and I are both solidified by the Cone. No matter what, we cannot join today's procession."
"Hearing the gunshots, I know my life must end today. But you are different. Go ahead and journey through Hell once more."
Putato's breathing was ragged. He didn't know how to respond.
What on earth is this guy rambling about? Am I really Green Journey's experimental subject? But how can I trust the enemy's words!
"Wait, who exactly wants to capture me?!"
The man, thrown to the ground, leaned against the black slanted surface of the cathedral, gave a slight shudder, and laughed. His hand formed a fist and incessantly struck his own chest.
The completely unexpected situation left Putato somewhat flustered. He could only grip his weapon tightly.
"Who still wants to capture you now?"
"Of course, it's a traitor like you! If we didn't have high-ranking K Corporation personnel, how could Green Journey have successfully attacked their headquarters? That guy must be very eager to monopolize a successful case like yours."
"No one can refuse the allure of entering the forest of freedom. It's a pity he doesn't know one thing."
Putato clearly saw the man's face twisted into a laughing, distorted grimace. He pressed on, his face reddening.
"What thing? Who is he?!"
"You are nothing! I tell you, you are not Putato's consciousness, nor are you the Putato of this place! You are merely the most ridiculous misprint!"
"Isn't that right? You remember absolutely nothing about this place, isn't that right!"
"You think you grew up in a forest, isn't that right! You are nothing!"
"Isn't that right?! A misprint is just a copied false snippet, isn't that right!"
Hearing this, Putato immediately flew into an uncontrollable rage. He drew Honesuki and stabbed through the opponent's arm, then kneed the man in the abdomen, making him vomit a mouthful of sour liquid.
All those words were bullshit!
"Don't you dare try to scare me! Who exactly is that high-ranking K Corporation official?"
"Hehehe, as long as you use the Hammer of Counter-Attack to continuously hit yourself, that layer of Cone solidified shell will shatter, and then this ridiculous misprint of yours will slowly dissipate within your body, like ink dissolving into the sea."
"Remember, you are nothing."
"You just need to try taking off my wrist bone Hammer of Counter-Attack. Remember to hit it like this."
As the words left his mouth, the man actually punched himself, spitting blood. Immediately, his skin inverted, and a large amount of tough black fur was pulled out.
Seeing the other party about to transform into a beast, the stunned Putato finally reacted. He stared wide-eyed, pursuing the man's right arm, and chopped it down before it could twist.
"I am everything, damn it!"
But the man's head split into four petals, as bizarre and terrifying as a demon from Hell. Putato had no time to hesitate and decisively struck.
Honesuki embedded in the opponent's head, Putato unconsciously retreated three steps to the edge of the cathedral. Below him were countless rioting beasts.
Now, even if he desperately tried to clear his mind, he couldn't stop himself from falling into self-doubt. The suffocating feeling of being suspended in an abyss made Putato's legs go limp, and he stumbled backward.
"Damn it!"
Putato hastily reached out and grabbed the edge, thus preventing himself from falling to his death. But the sensation of his body hanging in mid-air once again gave him a feeling of powerlessness. He couldn't even climb back up.
I want to go up!
Powerful resilience forced his body to move. The next moment, a colossal shadow engulfed Putato, making him scream in disbelief.
"You lunatic! Turning yourself and others into such monstrous forms!"
The man's head faced him, but that ridiculously long, long giraffe-like neck was simply like a bloody, fleshy streetlamp, making Putato feel physically ill just looking at it. Putato even vomited some sour liquid.
It desperately tried to lower its head to look at Putato, but its own spine pushed its head back up. Large clumps of brain matter dripped onto Putato's head, almost knocking him down.
Putato's will to survive exploded. With every ounce of his strength, he swallowed the sour liquid and brain matter, then suddenly rolled back onto the cathedral floor, vomiting violently.
"You are nothing! Do you even remember a single thing from before you were 23? Isn't that right!"
SWISH!
A massive bone blade came crashing down. Putato's expression shifted dramatically. He quickly bit down, grabbing his shirt and suddenly tearing it open to reveal the Death character etched onto his chest.
Death aura flooded the air!
"No! No! No! No! No! No!"
Excruciating, tearing pain couldn't break Putato's focus. It was sheer, incredible resilience that forced him to move.
RIP!
"I am everything, goddammit!!!"
The monstrous creature's hind leg was suddenly severed. Putato, shrouded in gray mist, tried to strike again but was sliced diagonally in two by the opponent's terrifying, scythe-like front leg. The agony of being cut through the torso made Putato plunge headfirst into the opponent's open leg wound.
He frantically concentrated, using his Death aura to stitch his body back together.
Immediately, he forcibly bit into the enemy's bloody flesh—not to find a weakness, but to vent the sudden, intense pain.
I want to kill you!
Desperately chanting a phrase, Putato, knife in hand, crawled into the giraffe-like creature's body. He moved like a vicious parasite, greedily tearing through every inch of flesh and blood until he burst out from its chest.
Putato looked up, his focus returning. Only then did he see that the man had transformed into a beast half the size of the grand cathedral. The numerous holes he had carved were even more abundant than the windows on the cathedral itself.
The grand cathedral was gushing blood, like a wine tower overflowing with crimson.
The agony of Death made Putato's ears ring, but he could still hear the man's rough, almost incomprehensible words.
"You hate me!!!"
"Welcome back!"
The colossal skull crashed to the right, knocking down five or six columns in succession. The entire grand cathedral began to collapse, losing its balance.
The moment he hit the ground, Putato rolled over a dozen times before stopping in front of a pile of rotten wooden boards. Many of the Workshop weapons on him were bent out of shape.
Suddenly, he realized the agony of Death was fading. He looked up, finding that everyone around him had fled.
Ever since acquiring the Death Tattoo, just walking outside could cause Death aura to overflow. Putato never imagined he would actually run out of it today.
He had barely healed more than half of his body before the gray energy evaporated.
His shattered communicator stubbornly emitted sound. Putato, bewildered, pressed it several times but couldn't connect. Only when he flung it to the ground did Mo's voice finally break through.
"Putato, what's wrong? This cursed place has completely descended into chaos! Keep your communicator on; we're coming immediately."
"Don't come over."
Putato stood up, dazed. If he was merely a so-called replica, then who exactly was he? Could a segment of misprinted consciousness still be considered a person with a self?
The helpless feeling of unanswered questions overwhelmed him. Putato touched the stitched Work Card on his chest, struggling to think, but he stumbled and fell again.
His right leg hadn't fully recovered because his Death aura was depleted. He would have to face Death once more.
"We're outside too. There are too many crazy people here. Hang in there!"
"Don't do such foolish things next time! Making money isn't worth dying! Even if we can't buy a star's name, we can just pick a name ourselves."
"I don't need your money to take care of those little kids. Just be normal!"
Mo seemed to sense Putato's dropping tone; it was an attitude she had never displayed before.
"I'm very normal."
Putato picked up a broken steel rod, propping himself up slowly. The pain from his injuries made him curse.
"Don't say we have nothing. We want to be our own masters."
"Boss, why are you reciting that cult's slogan? What's wrong with Putato?"
Hearing that, Putato couldn't help but laugh. He never expected to be comforted by Mo one day.
"Don't worry, nothing will happen to me before I become the Pinnacle of The City."
"I may grow old, get sick, or become senile and mad, but that will definitely be in the future!"
What 'nothing at all' are they talking about?
That Green Journey man and the high-ranking K Corporation official were just minor obstacles. When he became the Pinnacle of The City, everything would be clear and easily resolved.
MMM-OH-OH.
Heavy panting came from behind Putato, making his hair stand on end. He unconsciously gripped the steel rod he used as a crutch.
Putato stiffly turned his head.
The scattered beasts, tearing open the giraffe's flesh, saw daylight again. They seemed stunned by the collapse of the grand cathedral, then opened their lips to reveal fangs.
These things were clever—they had used the corpses as a last-ditch buffer against the fall.
When he saw them lowering their heads to feed, their wounds stitching back together, Putato felt a surge of pure panic.
Damn it!
How are you still breathing?!
"Mo, save me!!"
Propping himself up on a steel crutch, Putato scrambled to flee. Behind him limped four or five long-haired beastmen. Their pursuit was agonizingly slow, like a twisted walking race.
"Are you sick?! Stop chasing me!"
The jagged terrain of the garbage dump was a nightmare for a man with a limp. The ground was a minefield of sharp debris and pits. Every step was a gamble.
Suddenly, Putato tripped. His right arm slammed into jagged glass, carving a deep, bloody gash. The beasts behind him immediately lunged.
BANG!
A rush of wind whipped past his face. Putato, white-knuckled as he gripped his steel rod, finally let out a breath of relief.
Mo, skin steaming with white vapor, drew her saber and drove the beasts back. Consta and Arnold rushed to haul Putato up while Consta slammed a pneumatic syringe into his arm.
"Phew, I feel much better."
"Really? Treasure that feeling, because you're officially in my debt now."
...
The group beat a fast retreat, with Putato slung over Mo's back.
Inside the building, every window was bolted shut. The hallways were silent, the children tucked away—a direct result of Mo's orders.
Katae moved with precision, wiping the blood from their torn clothes and weapons before locking them away. Putato lay solitary on the sofa, staring at the ceiling and wondering what his next move was.
The world-ending information he'd just received had shattered his plans, leaving him with a hollow sense of helplessness.
"Look, I wove a furry scabbard for Honesuki."
Putato looked at the soft, yellow sleeve holding his blade and managed a small smile.
"Not bad."
Mo flopped down next to him, legs sprawled. She looked like a bandit in Prosthetic skin.
"Mhm. I pulled your communicator chip and swapped it for a clean one."
Putato took the new device and nodded.
"Something's eating at you, isn't it? Usually, you just crash, sleep, and vanish like a ghost. Why the long face?"
"Anyway, Christmas is almost here. The kids made you a Christmas tree."
A Christmas tree?
Purely decorative junk like that had to be a fortune in The City. Was it a handout from L Corporation?
Putato followed her gaze and froze. Standing there was a four-tiered Christmas tree built entirely from green plastic chairs. Each level was draped in scraps of irregular green cloth and decorated with red and green balloons.
At the very top, a golden five-pointed star was scrawled directly onto the wall.
He was speechless. He spotted a wine-red bow swaying from one of the plastic branches.
"Hey! Kids! Didn't I tell you to stay in your rooms?!"
Mo, spotting them too, shouted in faux-annoyance. Olivia crept out from her hiding spot, trembling as she clutched a puppet.
"God, kids are a pain. Always underfoot. You're out there every day, so you have no idea how much work it is dealing with these brats."
"Thank you."
The two words silenced Mo instantly. She leaned back into the sofa, looking pleased. Nearby, the two iron-men were busy ripping open their incoming packages.
"Since you're always working outside, I thought you might be tired... or unable to sleep. I wanted you to have this."
Seeing Mo look away, Olivia bravely stepped forward and held out the puppet.
The moment Putato touched it, a wave of warmth and a soothing fragrance hit him. He almost drifted off right then and there.
"I warmed it in the microwave. I wanted it to feel like being held by a mother."
"Mhm. It feels exactly like that."
It was then that Putato realized with a jolt that he remembered absolutely nothing about his own parents.
He felt like he had attended university, but then again, maybe he hadn't.
He couldn't be illiterate, surely.
Could that man's words actually be the Truth?
But the biggest hole in the story was the game he remembered. If he was the only survivor, Green Journey wouldn't have turned The City's suffering into a game in another world just for kicks.
Would they really spend day and night transmitting personalities just to play god in a digital dream?
Besides, if Green Journey's research was so dangerous that The Head had to purge it, that man wouldn't have been so worried about the Beholders during his speech.
Maybe he was the original, forced into hiding to avoid being "cleaned" by The Head.
Whatever the case, the Truth couldn't be that simple!
A thick mental fog drifted over him. But as he looked around the room at the people who clearly gave a damn about him, the confusion began to fade. This, right here, was Reality.
Whether it was the shadows of the past or the trials of today, he just had to survive them!
[Lesti: Putato, you free today?]
[Putato: What's wrong? A gang breathing down your neck?]
[Lesti: No, nothing like that. Are you home? I want to give you something.]
[Putato: Stay inside. Haven't you seen the beasts outside?]
[Lesti: Ugh, I already went out! Why do I have such trash luck? If W Corporation hadn't sent that notice, I'd be dead.]
Coming over just to brag. Putato gave a knowing smile.
[Putato: Fine. Be careful. I'll meet you when you get here.]
[Olga: Vanda! Why didn't you pick up?! Get here, now!]
[Olga: The commercial district is crawling with monsters. It's the one the Zwei Association tried to bury. Section 6 Walter is desperate for bodies. It's a real Association commission!]
Physically and mentally drained, Putato wanted to ignore the screen. But a Fixer doesn't move up without a record. Without blood and sweat on the ledger, he'd stay at the bottom forever.
But Lesti was already on her way. Everything was hitting at once.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.
The knock on the door turned the room to ice. Putato bolted upright and pressed his eye to the peephole.
"Who is it?"
The figure on the other side wore a tailored black suit draped with a pure white, immaculate cloak. He looked mysterious, almost holy. A slender sword hung at his hip.
"By the will of the prescript, I am an Index Messenger. Open the door, Putato."
The Index. One of the Backstreets' Five Fingers.
These weren't your typical gangs. Their entire existence revolved around executing prescripts, no matter how insane or absurd the orders were. Those who disobeyed were hunted down and punished.
The Syndicate was a nonsensical nightmare, yet it forced half of The City to obey its whims.
Putato's heart hammered against his ribs. He had no idea how he'd suddenly fallen under a prescript. It made no sense!
And these Messengers weren't just mailmen. Anyone who could walk The City alone was a killer. Even Gyeong-mi wouldn't stand a chance against them.