Chapter 7: Half Penny (7)

Lee Do and the Oni Mask returned to the secondhand shop after disposing of all the cellphones at the scene.

The rest was up to the fixer.

The broker had handed over all the information as promised, and they no longer had any business with the Scavengers. Whether to find the NIM’s whereabouts or how to retrieve it if it hadn’t been disposed of was q134.2e’s decision.

“I don’t think there will be any need for force. It should be settled with a simple transaction.”

The Scav who took the NIM wouldn’t know its true value. The fact that the scene was recorded was only important to Core Works and their competitor; outwardly, it was just a cheap recording NIM model.

So, Lee Do unintentionally had some downtime.

[016-881-8154]
–Sent the money to your fixer, you punk.

100,000 credits. Along with the message from a ghost number, q134.2e gave Lee Do his share.

“And this is the bonus from the labor consultant’s side for taking down the Scavs.”

The money in the plastic bag totaled 250,000 credits. q134.2e glanced at the Oni Mask as she handed it over, but he just shrugged.

“I get paid separately. I’m on a long-term contract.”

q134.2e nodded.

“Right, well. You’re not one of ours.”

The Oni Mask remained silent, arms crossed, at her subtly possessive tone. He just hummed softly.

q134.2e, her eyes narrowed, finally turned to Lee Do.

“Answer my calls. The job seems to be almost finished.”

“Okay.”

“It’ll be done by tomorrow at the earliest, within this week at the latest.”

“Good.”

“Oh, right, and—”

She hummed, then glanced at the Oni Mask and closed her mouth.

“Well, get some rest or something.”

That was all she said before turning back to her workshop.

Lee Do and the Oni Mask, left alone, remained silent for a moment. Lee Do pocketed the money, and they left the shop together.

It was almost sunrise.

A clear, crimson sunrise.

The plazas and buildings, rising like skyscrapers, still emitted their artificial light, but a faint crimson glow subtly permeated the cityscape. That was sunlight.

After walking a few steps amidst the bustling crowd of office workers, the Oni Mask patted Lee Do’s shoulder.

“Friend, I think I need to stop by the dry cleaners first.”

He brushed off his cigarette ash-covered jacket.

“That was a one hell of a ride. Let’s embrace those cute toys later. I’ll call you.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Aw.”

The Oni Mask crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd.

Lee Do stopped by the motel to store the money, then returned to the street. He headed towards the marketplace.

Even in a cyber-dominated world, the human body was still analog. It was ironic and absurd that in a world where even the original, existing physical body was called analog…

“500 credits.”

He bought a slice of large pizza wrapped in paper and walked around, looking at the single-person stalls.

It was a small plaza between the main roads.

“Did you see Lefter yesterday? He was insane.”

“Ah, that player? His kicks were amazing.”

“Hey hey, Corpse.exe uploaded a new post. It’s hilarious.”

Their voices were loud enough to be heard clearly, but they weren’t necessarily customers of the stalls. They only occasionally bought dumplings, Pad Thai, or other quick bites.

And the stalls offered more than just food.

They sold things that weren’t usually available online.

In a world where basic needs were met through the internet, from food to all kinds of drugs and weapons, even custom AI personalities for personal pleasure, physical shops were a relic of the past. Perhaps only gun stores regulated by the government and brothels, which required a physical presence, remained.

Or perhaps, rare items that could only be obtained in person.

Most of the items sold here were for niche hobbies.

Meaningless things.

“Hey, customer! Take a look at this.”

Lee Do headed towards a stall tucked away in a corner.

“Customer, customer?”

A passerby, engrossed in their phone, walked past Lee Do without even a glance. Lee Do munched on his pizza and looked around the stall.

“Oh, hello! Would you like to browse?”

He nodded casually, and the merchant beamed.

The merchant dealt in weapons.

Not guns or blades, but weapons of the past. Longswords instead of retractable monomolecular cutters, daggers instead of combat knives, nunchaku, katanas, and the like. Despite their extreme niche appeal, the reason they insisted on selling them in person was mostly pride.

“You’re looking at the longsword. This has a long history. It was the weapon of choice for medieval warriors.”

Lee Do listened with one ear as he picked up a staff leaning against the side of the stall.

“Ah, the staff! This is an incredibly versatile weapon. A weapon for both offense and defense, and a must-have for any knight.”

Judging by the weight in his hand, this one wasn’t made of just wood either.

Lee Do decided on the staff and asked the merchant the price.

“Ah, and the intricate carvings are beautiful too. It’s 2,770 credits. It’s also very sturdy, especially considering the manufacturer. May I ask what you intend to use it for?”

“To beat people to death.”

“Aha, then this is perfect for you!”

Apparently accustomed to such responses from enthusiasts, the merchant replied with a composed smile. Lee Do smiled back, took a final bite of his pizza, and paid. He attached the staff to the carrying case he had brought with him, and the merchant gasped in admiration.

“Wow, you’re a pro.”

“You could say that.”

“That looks so cool! Like a bag. You’re using it for fashion, huh?”

Even the Oni Mask’s outdated style was considered fashionable on these streets, so a carrying case slung over the shoulder was just a slightly eye-catching accessory.

Lee Do wiped his greasy, pizza-stained hands and left the stall. 2,770 credits. He could have bought a cheaper staff online, but that would have required purchasing a disposable identity first. It was a hassle, and he was analog, without any cyberware.

‘Maybe this is more my style.’

He lit a cigarette as the greasy smell clung to his hands.

As he was about to leave the marketplace, he noticed a stall piled with books. A woman with short, black hair was already browsing.

“Welcome.”

Lee Do nodded at the merchant’s greeting. He stood next to the woman, and she glanced at him.

Lee Do looked down at the books.

“I don’t think you had these last time?”

“Ah, yes. Another stall closed down, so I took the opportunity. Sharing these profound philosophies with people, how wonderful is that? I jumped at the chance.”

They were old textbooks.

Medieval wrestling, kendo, ancient Eastern swordsmanship, spearmanship, even military strategy.

“Do you have any martial arts books?” Lee Do asked.

“Of course. There are a lot here, especially in this section.”

This was interesting. This world, which had replaced the Jianghu, wasn’t exactly Earth, but it had many similarities. The legal system, history, the process of development.

And those similarities seemed to extend to textbooks.

These were studies of Eastern martial arts.

“You can read them if you want.”

He skimmed through a book. It described, in a very practical manner, how to subdue an opponent, how to train, and other martial arts techniques. Naturally, there were no supernatural abilities like cultivation realms, but concepts like internal energy existed, seemingly influenced by philosophy. Practical combat techniques, such as movements and strike points, were also detailed.

Lee Do flipped through a few more pages, then asked the merchant for the price.

“1,100 credits each. 25% discount if you buy two.”

He considered it for a moment and nodded.

He possessed a supernatural body with distinct traits and constitution, but the genre those traits belonged to was based on a realistic foundation.

Thousand Refinements, Worldly Experience, Reasoned Skill. Even after two years, he still couldn’t erase that name from his mind. The description, no, even the traits he had assigned to Great Daehyup.

He chose a few books that seemed relevant, like Jujutsu and Wushu, and left the stall.

“Thank you! An excellent choice!”

What were martial arts, anyway? Fundamentally, they were strategies for subduing opponents. Through the basic human physique.

He wondered if he, who had seen all sorts of things in the past two years with just a staff in his hand, really needed these, but then he remembered the merchant’s words. 25% off if you buy two.

‘Isn’t this a great deal?’

As Lee Do felt a sense of triumph, preparing to leave the marketplace,

“You should learn boxing or something,” a cold, feminine voice said from behind him. He turned around.

It was the woman with the short, black hair.

“Well, I’m just saying, since we have similar tastes. You were reading those quite seriously, but don’t even think about using them in a real fight.”

“What?”

“Literally. Are you planning to try them out in an underground fighting ring or something? You don’t look like an ordinary person.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Lee Do turned and walked away, as if he had encountered a strange person.

The woman stared after him, dumbfounded by his blatant dismissal. She tried scanning him discreetly, but there was no response.

Unjacked. Not all ordinary people were unjacked, but unjacked people were usually ordinary. Meaning he wasn’t involved in underground fighting.

“…”

She realized her meddlesome comment was unnecessary after he turned the corner. Lee Do was already walking down the main street.

And he was thinking,

‘Hmm. Did I waste my money?’

What were martial arts, really?

He felt they were just a means of physical conditioning. Was there any other reason to enhance something so disgustingly primal and survivalistic? More than anything, they were Great Daehyup’s, not his. They weren’t even his to begin with.

But chivalry.

That’s right, chivalry.

Whenever he drank, even if he didn’t get drunk, certain words always came to mind. Chivalry… chivalry. Righteousness. Humanity, virtue, things like that.

It was as if he was pondering the very meaning of Great Daehyup’s existence.

If he pondered the meaning of Great Daehyup’s existence, it would naturally extend to the meaning of his own existence. The name Lee Do. The seemingly unreal experiences of barely surviving for two years. Sector 11-A, that gruesome place, the blood he had shed.

“…Hmm.”

Lee Do shook his head. His blurry vision cleared.

He was standing beneath an overpass, where dozens of cars zipped by.

The streets were still bustling. It was not even 9 am yet, so it was perhaps to be expected.

This place was even more crowded and congested than the entertainment-soaked night streets beyond the alley.

It was the morning rush hour, after all.

With a whooshing sound, a Hyperloop sped across the elevated railway. It was a capsule-like tube enclosed within the tangled network of elevated railways. There was also a subway that rattled past with a rough, rumbling noise.

The crowd was all heading in the opposite direction to Lee Do.

Because the Metro Hub, where all kinds of trains converged, was in that direction, as he had just seen.

“…”

Lee Do thought he had grown accustomed to it, but he felt his mind becoming increasingly hazy.

He lit a cigarette.

Sector 11-A, where you could find swaggering gang members just a few alleys away, but even here, there were people living their lives, going to work. Sunlight existed here, too.

And Lee Do was walking in the opposite direction to them. Under the shadows of the massive buildings.

He inhaled the smoke.

This was cyberpunk.

The intersection of analog, cybernetics, and Maximal Engineering. Natural elements amidst the artificial. A place where people living ordinary mornings and those living in constant fear coexisted.

The crowd wasn’t homogenous.

There were people looking at their cellphones, people pressing near their ears to project their own personal holograms, people staring blankly at their wrists. And there were also people with burner phones.

Adding another drop of batter to this already mixed dough wouldn’t change anything.

Just like the people of Earth in the year 2025.

And the people of the illusory martial arts world.

Lee Do flicked his cigarette away.

‘I should’ve just picked a
sword…’

He hadn’t even taken more than a few puffs.