Chapter 5: Half Penny (5)

Lee Do brought all the Scavengers’ cellphones to the secondhand shop. Neither the Oni Mask nor the Scavengers seemed to belong to Sector 11-A. Even as a failsafe for the labor consultant, the Oni Mask was a sufficiently usable asset.

“…Couldn’t you have just gotten the information from them? Like, through torture or something?” the Oni Mask said, scratching his head with the barrel of his gun.

“No. They’re a decentralized network; they wouldn’t know anything,” q134.2e replied, taking the cellphones. It was her instruction to collect the phones. Was it due to some sense of trust that she hadn’t relayed this to the Oni Mask? Lee Do stepped back from the table, pondering.

The Oni Mask glanced at him, then continued indifferently,

“What can you even do with cellphones? At most, just some chatting.”

“That’s what we’re going to use.”

“They’re just small fry, there’s nothing to find. I doubt the broker would be sexting them in private chats.”

“That’s hot. I’d be curious if that were the case.”

“…Hmm. It would have been easier to make them confess who took the NIM at the scene. Make them draw a composite sketch. With their pathetic, broken fingers.”

“He probably doesn’t remember, even if he knew,” q134.2e said, glancing at the man tied to a chair. He was tied up for interrogation, but also to prevent any information leaks. The man just hung his head, seemingly exhausted.

“So, how are you going to extract information?”

q134.2e took the three cellphones to her desktop and sat down.

“It’s their only means of communication,” she said.

The Oni Mask leaned on the back of her chair as she spun it around.

“Hey, you’re not that amateur, are you? You don’t actually think you can track down a broker the police can’t catch, do you? That’s a completely idiotic idea.”

A decentralized network meant it was very easy for the higher-ups to cut ties. The information passed down to the individual tools would be limited. Furthermore, like a subscription-based business club, there were even tiers for information access, and this time it was D-Class.

In other words, cleaning up the union was only valued that much.

After placing each phone on the desktop, she pulled something out of a box under the desk. A PairPort, a connector that linked cellphones to holographic desktops. Tap. She tapped the keys that appeared on the table and continued,

“They’re only D-Class. The information was probably something even a newly registered member could get their hands on.”

“You mean the broker could be a small-time
like them?”

“If they were really that low-level, they’d be managing toys in a back-alley brothel by now. But the question is, does that apply to the lower ranks too?”

She gestured towards the display.

Information scrolled in real-time on the display. Commands, logs, access nodes, session keys, everything.

Among the information recorded along with the chat logs with the broker, there was access to see who else the broker had given the same orders to.

D-Class. In other words, information used only by the lowest-level tools. Even if they couldn’t find the broker’s information, they could certainly find information on the tools involved.

At that moment, Lee Do approached her, lighting his cigarette.

He exhaled smoke and looked at the display.

“But how many do you think there are?” q134.2e asked after a moment of thought.

“I don’t know. Judging by what’s showing up now, maybe eight to ten.”

“Then, doesn’t that make you wonder? That they haven’t been caught yet?”

Lee Do jerked his chin towards the Oni Mask.

“Oh.”

After a brief moment of admiration, the Oni Mask raised both hands in protest.

“Wait, you guys seem to think I’m one of them, but I was just hired! I’m not their
lackey!”

Lee Do nodded nonchalantly.

He looked back at q134.2e’s crimson eyes.

“So… what are you suggesting?” she asked.

He replied succinctly,

“You said they use surveillance drones at the scene, right?”

Access nodes, session keys. If there were surveillance drones, it meant the broker was sharing the session at the scene.

Lee Do adjusted his cigarette.

“Let’s go there, beat them all up, smash everything, and have a direct conversation.”

In other words, destroy the Scavengers’ next target location.

“Huh?”

The Oni Mask made another perplexed expression. Although the fixed grin of his mask was his default, q134.2e, too, seemed doubtful.

“…How many do you think there will be?” she asked, mirroring his earlier question.

Lee Do placed a hand on q134.2e’s shoulder.

“What’s there to hesitate about? We’re beating up bad guys.”

His exhaled smoke made her shoulder twitch.

“When is it? The next scene?”

The three cellphones still belonged to the Scavengers.

Destroying the Scavengers’ next target location. To q134.2e, who had only worked with him on thirteen requests, it sounded insane.

Even if they were just D-Class, it was still Sector 11-A. They didn’t know what kind of past these people had, or how many of them would be gathered.

However, the Oni Mask seemed rather enthusiastic about the idea.

Inside the van, the Oni Mask clicked his pistol, checking and adjusting its modules. He fiddled with his fully mechanical arm and then cracked the knuckles of his other hand.

“You know I’m taking a step back for this, right?” he said jokingly, handing a pistol to Lee Do.

“It’s not because of your pretty-boy looks, like some VIP toy. I mean, that face that would make even that unlucky woman want to breed with you.”

Not that the woman is here, the Oni Mask added under his breath. Lee Do accepted the pistol and replied simply,

“Thanks a lot.”

-…Don’t waste time talking, it’s time to get out.

q134.2e’s voice suddenly came from Lee Do’s burner phone.

“Oh, there it is.”

The Oni Mask gave Lee Do a puzzled look and shrugged. He opened the door.

-Don’t die. Don’t fail the request.

Just as they were about to leave the van, q134.2e’s voice rang out again. The Oni Mask waved his hand dismissively.

“If we get caught here, both our necks are on the line. This really shows how accommodating I am.”

-Yeah, thanks a lot. But the same goes for me. I don’t want to lose my precious personal toy.

“Oh? Are those genuine feelings of affection?”

-Cut the crap and be careful. You can die, but my solo can’t.

Lee Do held the phone to his mouth.

“That’s awfully sweet of you. Hang up, I’ll check the session later.”

A slightly irritated voice came from the phone just before it disconnected.

-This is still crazy even on second thou—

The line went dead. The Oni Mask raised both hands and let out a “Woo!” They got out of the van. Click, click, the Oni Mask deliberately clicked the modules on his pistol as they walked alongside Lee Do.

It was a main road, likely meant for vehicles, but the surroundings were eerily deserted.

This was an industrial area on the outskirts of the city. The factories seemed inactive; no smoke rose from the exhaust stacks beyond the fences, and there was no humming from the ventilation fans. This was a common sight after corporate skirmishes or gang wars.

“You know, there are a lot of guys like you in my neighborhood,” the Oni Mask asked, strolling along with his hands clasped behind his head.

“That’s good,” Lee Do replied, and the Oni Mask snorted.

“Hey, that’s a bit cold, don’t you think? Do you even know what ‘guys like you’ means? Reckless guys, the kind who are also pretty hot-blooded.”

“Where’s your neighborhood?”

“White Street. It’s been a hot spot for over a decade. Industrial zone? More like a mercenary district.”

White Street. It sounded like the name of a small area, but it wasn’t. It was a full-fledged city, rife with corporate warfare. Solos and fixers ran rampant, and self-proclaimed warriors of Maximal Engineering were bred there, causing all sorts of trouble.

It was a place where only skilled solos could survive.

That also indicated how much of an insurance policy the Oni Mask was.

“These days, MetalMix, a military contractor, has joined the fray, and all sorts of corporations are chasing after them…”

Just then, the roar of a motorcycle erupted from behind them, speeding past.

“Haha, this is all ours this time! Catch us if you can!”

The figure wearing goggles in the back seat turned around, aimed a pistol, then flipped them off with a laugh before disappearing over the horizon. Next, a car sped past. A illegally modified brown car.

He caught a glimpse of the driver’s face in the side mirror, and then a shower of e-cigarette chip residue rained down from the back window. From an arm resting on the windowsill.

“Argh!” the Oni Mask yelled.

“Those b@stards! My 500,000-credit new jacket!”

Green nano-corrosion residue remained on the leather. Metallic debris, peculiar to e-cigarettes, embedded itself and tangled like ash. Lee Do chuckled and continued walking. Faint voices started to reach them.

“Look what I managed to snag!”

It wasn’t the Oni Mask’s frustrated voice that reached their ears. Search over there, this place is a goldmine! There’s another spot, let’s hurry and loot it. Remarks like that.

The location was a garbage incinerator two blocks away.

Bodies, presumably of gang members, lay scattered around. As they entered, they saw a variety of Scavs. A masked figure leaning against the wall, tapping on his phone; a duo in hoodies, poking at corpses and extracting implants. There were about fifteen of them, and their common trait seemed to be that they glanced at Lee Do before going back to their business, unconcerned.

So, Lee Do also remained unconcerned, casually lighting a cigarette as he strolled through the incinerator.

He was examining a body with the still-furious Oni Mask when an old man approached them.

“Are you new here?”

Lee Do exhaled smoke from the corner of his mouth and turned around. He nodded casually, and the old man gave a friendly smile.

“I thought I hadn’t seen your faces before.”

“Gramps, you’re a regular here?” the Oni Mask asked, getting up.

“You could say that. I’m just a powerless old man.”

“A powerless old man doing dirty work, huh?”

“I’m powerless, so I can only do dirty work. By the way, you’re young, yet you smoke analog cigarettes? That’s interesting.”

The old man chuckled, pointing at Lee Do.

The Oni Mask looked at Lee Do, shrugged, and nodded.

“I thought he was unique from the moment I saw him.”

“Analog cigarettes… There are enthusiasts. This old man is one of them.”

“A chain-smoking grandpa?”

“Something like that. Oh, right. Do you know how the Scavenger system works?”

“To some extent,” the Oni Mask said, crossing his arms.

“It’s best to understand the system. This business isn’t easy. The payout varies; some days you get a good haul, some days you don’t.”

Lee Do exhaled smoke and stood up.

“So, is this old man going to enlighten us?”

“No,” Lee Do replied.

“Whoa, dude, that’s cold.” The Oni Mask gestured for him to calm down.

“Go ahead, Gramps. Share what you know. What do you know?”

“I know a lot of things. I’ve been dabbling in Scavenging for over ten years, on and off.”

“And you’re still D-Class?”

“Oh. What exactly do you mean by that?”

The old man put his hands behind his back and began walking with the Oni Mask. Lee Do followed.

“…Back in the day, this old man committed a grave sin, one that couldn’t be undone.”

It seemed it wasn’t the kind of information the Oni Mask wanted. Talking about the system, the old man went on and on about his past, what he had done, how he had gotten involved, all clichéd stories. Lee Do quietly smoked his cigarette and followed them.

“So I had no choice but to join the criminal world. They were very strict about criminal records. It’s better for the younger generation, but it was tough in my time.”

The old man chuckled as he walked, then suddenly stumbled, letting out an “Oops!” as if he had tripped on something. He regained his balance and looked down.

“So, you regret it now?” the Oni Mask asked.

The old man nodded.

“Of course.”

“Should I consider you trash or absolute trash?”

“Chuckle. See me as you wish.”

While replying, the old man’s gaze remained fixed on the ground. Looking puzzled, he stepped on the spot again. It wasn’t the ground, but the body of a gang member. His thigh. It twitched. As if it were still alive.

The old man glanced around and looked at the Oni Mask and Lee Do in turn.

“Oh, this old man forgot to explain the system. That’s what I promised, right?”

The Oni Mask nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I almost died of boredom.”

“Chuckle, chuckle. My apologies. There’s one system we need to know first. The kill system.”

“Kill system?”

“You can get incentives. Well, in D-Class, it’s 100,000 credits per head. That’s the going rate these days. It’s a system where you get paid for killing survivors at the scene.”

The Oni Mask glanced at Lee Do and shook his head wryly. It wasn’t related to the broker; this information was already widely known. And the old man wanted this clichéd information as payment.

“So, you see, this old man thinks he’s found a survivor.”

He smoothly drew a pistol from inside his coat.

“Would you mind letting me have this one? You polite young men.”

The old man smiled kindly, seemingly asking for permission, especially from the unresponsive Lee Do. At that moment, Lee Do flicked his finished cigarette butt. It landed on the ground, but he stood up straight.

The Oni Mask, who had been looking at the spot, let out an “Ooh!”

“You young men look strong. This old man is too weak; I haven’t had a good haul lately.”

The old man continued talking.

Lee Do took out a new cigarette from his pack and nodded casually. He lit it as he nodded.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Oh, really? Thank you, thank you so much.”

The old man beamed. As he secretly aimed his pistol at the gang member’s head, hidden from the others, Lee Do took his first drag and asked,

“Oh, by the way…”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to the victim? The sin you committed?”

“Ah, that child?”

The old man seemed to think for a moment, then spoke as if remembering.

“I heard she committed suicide. I think I heard it in prison. Because of that, my sentence was increased. She was such a small, cute child… Heh, I’ve been atoning for it my whole life.”

Lee Do took another drag and nodded silently.

“Then, I’ll enjoy this. This old man will,” he said.

The old man aimed the pistol at the gang member again. The trigger clicked, then was pulled. Bang! It fired.

And then there was a crack.

It was blocked.

Because it was embedded.

At the end of its trajectory was a staff. A simple wooden staff. However, in the cyberpunk world, scams were so rampant that even staffs sold as genuine wood often contained a significant amount of synthetic metal.

Lee Do looked at the damaged end of his staff and exhaled a bitter cloud of smoke.

“Ah, just perfect.”

He looked at the old man, whose eyes were wide with bewilderment.

“My 3,000-credit staff.”

Lee Do casually took the old man’s pistol as if it were his own. The old man, bewildered, simply let him take it. The Oni Mask watched with interest, arms crossed. Then, Lee Do, after examining the pistol, pointed it at the old man’s head.

“A Demonic Cult deserves to die.”

Lee Do glanced at the small drone observing them from somewhere in the sky.

It was small and far away, something he wouldn’t have seen in his original body. He adjusted his cigarette.

“Farewell, Demonic Cult.”

Bang!

A gunshot echoed.