Chapter 6 - Before It's Too Late
Baldur City, the western Outer district.
In that sector, there is a slum where the impoverished gather—an awful town where the very word "law and order" doesn't exist.
A place where groups that call themselves gangs shoot guns like it's an everyday hobby, and every kind of illegal and shady business coexists: nightlife bars, gambling dens, black markets, clubs, drugs, brothels, contract agencies, unlicensed medical clinics, and more.
A district where the poor live day to day in their own league beyond the reach of public authority, taking gunshots as lullabies and corpses rolling in the street like trash as entertainment.
A lawless zone, West Junktown.
"Welcome to Junktown. You little shit."
"······."
Slash-
A skinny bastard with a red rose tattoo drawn across the bridge of his nose puts on a knife show right in front of me.
Seeing the antique first-generation net link port mounted near his temple, he's not a guy with money.
Probably one of the usual sights in this slum town: a punk, a criminal, or a lunatic. One of the three.
'Good thing I buried the nanorobot cartridge in the ground before coming.'
The guy who stopped his chaotic knife tricks spoke.
"Entrance fee is 2,000 Credit per person. Since you're two, that's 5,000 Credit total."
"······."
A miracle calculation where the bundle discount rate is negative.
" Balance / 9,000C "
Out of the 10,000 Credit that had been sleeping in my network account, I added 1,000 Credit to pay for a premium taxi fare, and I still have 9,000 Credit on hand, so even paying the entrance fee isn't a big problem.
I'll just give this up and move on.
"I've transferred it."
"Huh? You seriously transferred it? 5,000 Credit? Are you fucking with me right now?"
"Check it yourself."
But still.
Coming all the way to this stinking outer neighborhood and the first greeting I get is a blade across my face. I don't like it.
Hwaak-
The cut burns hot.
"···Huh. It's real? A kid who doesn't even look twenty—what kind of money do you—fine, okay. You pass, specially. Get out of my sight."
"······."
"But look at this bastard's eyes. Ah~ you pissed just because I scratched up that face a little?"
"No."
"Your face is too clean for a guy, so I carved one in for you so you don't get ignored inside."
"I'm not pissed."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"But your eyes say otherwise."
Swish.
He pressed the knife to my throat again. I thought about just killing him, but with this pathetic body condition, I can't go making enemies blindly.
"From the look of the bitch you're carrying, seems like you stole a sex toy somewhere and came to deliver it. I don't care who ordered it. So roll your eyes nice and polite. Before I kill you."
The swagger from this ugly bastard, of all things—
Vance! If you got it, hurry up and send them through! I've gotta go relieve the shift!
When a big guy holding a gun shouted from a shabby guard post far away, the skinny bastard in front of me clicked his tongue like it was a waste and shoved me with a few taps.
"Now get lost. Shoo!"
Yeah.
They worked hard extorting passersby, so on the way in, I should at least leave them a compliment.
"By the way, that's Rudolph, right."
"?"
"That strawberry tattoo on your nose—looks really cool."
Sgak-
A searing sensation slices across my face.
Maybe because it was cut deeper than before, blood runs down in a thin stream and drips under my chin.
"······You little shit, strawberry?"
"Is it not?"
"It's a rose, you little brat. That ain't your eyes, is it? Did you get your eyeball parts hacked, you dumbass—"
He readies to swing the knife again.
Then—
Hey, you bastard! Quit screwing around and send them through! If you're not relieving, then you run one more whole shift yourself!
The shouting comes again from far away.
Rudolph the red-nosed skinny bastard scowls hard, reluctantly puts the knife away, and throws out words that sound like advice or maybe a threat.
"If you act tough, you'll go straight into a ditch. With a pretty face like that, you look exactly like the type those guys would like."
I answered like it was nothing.
"Thanks for the advice. See you again."
"See you again? Heh heh. Yeah, let's definitely meet again! Don't die in town! Huh? See you again!"
"Yes."
"Damn, look at you bleeding. That must hurt."
Red-nosed, skinny Rudolph.
Slashed my face and spat curses.
I should remember this bastard clearly.
After passing the two extortionists at the Junktown entrance and walking about five minutes, the blood that had been running down my cheek had already started to stop.
'Even the second generation is this usable.'
The ability of second-generation medical nanorobots.
When I was young, thanks to Rena, I got the procedure.
It wasn't some grand reason. Back then, the young Rena threw a tantrum in front of Chairman Van, saying what if the Servant she received as a gift got hurt.
Even now, the price of second-generation medical nano devices—considered rotten old junk these days—still starts at 300,000 Credit, so ordinary City residents can't even dream of it.
The effect is more than decent.
For a wound as small as split skin, the bleeding stops quickly even without deliberately applying pressure. In half a day, the torn flesh sticks back together, and after a day, only a scar remains.
Even a simple fracture will naturally recover if you leave it alone for about a week. If the bone is crushed into powder or flesh is torn off, there's no answer, but···.
Soon, I'll be able to replace it with top-grade sixth-generation nanorobots that aren't even on the market yet.
A little later.
A roadside shoulder beside an old, bumpy road.
[ Junktown from here ]
A completely rusted sign catches my eye.
When I move my gaze behind that sign—
"The lighting is so pointlessly flashy. It's dizzying."
The landscape of a gigantic slum stretches out endlessly.
Baldur population: about 100 million. A small city that the people at the very bottom have made into their territory.
Like looking at a 1990s Hong Kong back-alley night market and Kowloon Walled City—blazing outdoor signs, dazzling neon, and outdated buildings smeared all over with cheap fluorescent lighting.
Countless alleys and worn-out low-rise buildings. Between them, crude sheets of metal and wooden planks are connected like skybridges so people can cross. There are so many bridges and outdoor signs that you can't even see the sky.
Like a glittering ant nest.
With just me and Rena, it wouldn't be hard to hide ourselves inside that huge, complex ant nest.
Still carrying the not-yet-sensible Rena on my back, I hurried my steps.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Junktown's streets.
Every time someone walks across a skybridge over my head, stinking sawdust, rusted metal powder, and pitch-black dust patter down—.
A neighborhood that contrasts sharply with the advanced scenery of Baldur's central business district, but···
Rather, this atmosphere feels more familiar to me.
Aaaaagh-!
The raucous noise stings my ears.
Aagh-! Let go of this, you bastard!
Did you hear that? That stupid son of a bitch Charles. He died last night doing drugs.
Hey, the pub up ahead got a decent sex toy newly stocked. Barely used, they say!
Hey, boss, how is a cultured-meat burger 20 Credit? It tastes fucking awful, so why does the price keep going up? Does a hamburger give birth or something!
Then don't eat it and get out! Ingredient costs went up again! I can't help it either!
I already ate it, you bastard! It's cultured meat—what ingredient cost is going up? Your pig fat probably went up more.
And then, as I was passing through the street where every kind of riffraff ran wild—
Tap.
Hey, bro.
When I turned my head, I saw a face soaked in drugs and alcohol.
Eyes as murky as spilled ink, long hair matted with grease. A life-ruined drifter who couldn't even hold himself together spoke to me.
I'd seen a few like him even on the way here.
That thing… you selling it?
"?"
His gaze was fixed on Rena slung over my back. He made a round hole with his fingers and snickered with a pathetic face.
That, you know. How about 30 Credit for one time? I'll finish as fast as I can!
A drifter who clearly wasn't in his right mind.
I decided to offer him some warm kindness.
"If you mean that… what 30 Credit. Even 10 Credit is plenty."
What? Really?
Wham-
A dull, heavy impact.
He clutched his solar plexus and gagged.
Guhk···?
This guy's having a lucky day.
"Put it on my tab. When you make a lot of money later, pay me back then—definitely."
I roughly shoved the groaning bum over with my foot and started walking again. From behind, I heard cackling.
What the hell is that wriggling grub.
Sounds like he's got 30 Credit at least though···
Wanna go check his pockets?
Even while a person is down and choking, the passersby don't care at all.
A few kids just walk up and gleefully rummage through the fallen drifter's pockets.
West Junktown is, originally, that kind of place.
***
I immediately looked for a place to stay.
A shabby inn down an alleyway that looked like it was about to collapse. Even the neon signboard had dead patches here and there.
"Room's 40 Credit a night. Special room is 80 Credit. Which one you taking."
The innkeeper spoke in a curt tone.
In a place like this, you can't expect friendly service.
Swish. Swish.
While wiping down a pistol, the owner asked again.
"So which is it."
"The special room."
"Oh? You look young, but you've got guts. But is the woman you're carrying dead?"
"No, she's just really drunk."
"Yeah, whatever. Just don't let her die in the room. It's a pain to clean up. And if you punch holes in the wall, don't expect it to be fun."
The room assigned to me was the last room on the second floor of the inn.
They call it a special room, but it's basically the level of a moldy semi-basement one-room studio.
The moment I walked in, I threw Rena onto the bed. Fatigue surged in and tried to devour my whole body.
I want to lie down and sleep right now, but—
"······Levan, where are we?"
Rena, who had woken up all disheveled, was staring at me with a confused face.
***
I told her what happened while she was passed out.
To be honest, "what happened" was just this: we ran from the headquarters building and fled straight to a slum on the outskirts of the City.
"No matter how it's the Sichuan Tang Family Corporation, this doesn't make sense. Then that means we lost the lawsuit, and······."
Rena listened silently until midway, then finally covered her face with both hands.
She's someone who's handled company work from a relatively young age. She's more mature than her peers, but even so, in a world where situations like this aren't rare, it can't be easy to keep your head at all times.
After a little time passed—
Rena, seeming a bit calmer, rubbed her damp eyes and spoke.
"A message came. Luckily, my older sister is in Valhalla right now. She went to argue about the broken engagement, and she heard the news there…"
Chairman Van's eldest daughter, Ingrid van Rubenka.
That brash personality seems to have saved her life.
Rather, that's a relief.
If that Rubenka woman—famous for being fierce—had been at Van Bio Company headquarters, she would've resisted until the building collapsed, Sichuan Tang Family or not.
Merida, her Servant, should also be alive.
"······It's okay. We're still okay."
"?"
"We can go to the Federation. If we go to the Federal Government in Odin City and ask for help…"
Of course, it's not an okay situation at all, but Rena pretended it was and babbled whatever words she could grab.
I didn't even care what she was saying. She probably didn't know what she was saying herself.
Either way, I'm going to do it my way.
"Rena."
"It's okay. Everything will be okay."
"No matter what happens, don't be surprised."
"······Huh?"
Rena blinked as if asking what kind of nonsense I was suddenly saying.
I tried to make up a convincing excuse, then suddenly, even the time to persuade her felt like a waste.
This isn't Van Bio Company where I need to watch my actions, and haven't I already waited long enough?
Delaying it even a little more is...
No.
"Levan, don't tell me the nanomachine I had implanted back then is malfunctioning or something······."
"From now on, no matter what happens, never touch it."
"······."
I trailed off my words hurriedly like someone desperate to pee, then sat down cross-legged and steadied my breathing.
When I felt around near my temple with my fingertips, I could feel the metal bulging under the skin.
Ujig.
The side of that damned full-brain Control chip.
Without hesitation, I put strength into my fingers and twisted hard. Even the tiny speck of inner power sleeping in my Lower dantian was ready to race through my qi and blood channels.
Soon, my whole body boils like a furnace.
"W-what are you doing right now? Levan!"
I closed my eyes quietly.
Ten years in that damned incubator, ten years living as a Servant surviving on other people's moods. Twenty years total. For my personality, I endured a lot.
So now, before it gets any later, it's time to go back.
Not a life as some rich girl's dedicated Servant—
But the life of a reincarnator.
"Once I pull it out, I should go find that Rudolph first."
Ujijik-