―You have gained experience.
―You have gained experience.
―You have leveled up.
―Current Level : 6
―You have acquired [Marksmanship (Level 1)].
Woojin looked down at the dead punks and tossed out a line in irritation.
“Daphne. I should have just done it your way. Should have killed them straight off.”
<It is all right. You may do so from next time.>
“I should.”
Woojin had known there was a high chance of this outcome.
Even so, he had tried speaking to them on the off chance.
The last conscience of a human who had lived in a normal world, you might say.
Or being gripped by the vain hope that maybe he could get through it without killing, you might say.
The fact that Woojin had [Diamond Qigong] and a gun played a part too.
Even punk bastards would see a submachine gun and pull their heads in, surely.
He had gotten a bit of power and let his thinking go soft like that.
‘What normal world? This is common sense here.’
Lemming City wasn't a world where people respected one another regardless of high or low position.
It was a merciless world where the logic of the strong preying on the weak divided even life and death.
And yet, even knowing that, there were plenty of idiots who didn't take care.
Like the punks who had just died in front of Woojin.
‘With bastards like these I should have shown my strength from the start.’
Punks like these were too stupid to understand pedantic, tedious explanations.
You had to speak to them in easy, simple language, like “then die.”
‘Learned one thing.’
Woojin shook off the bitter, foul mood and got moving.
Among the punks' corpses, things worth money were giving off a green glow.
The first thing he found was cash.
Banknotes rolled up tight with a rubber band.
“Being unregistered, I guess they use paper money.”
Anyone not registered in Lemming City naturally couldn't open a bank account either.
Unregistered people like these had to use cash.
“Strange that cash still circulates in a city this advanced.”
<Because there exist a small number of areas that electronic payment systems do not reach. It could be called Lemming City's generous policy of accommodating even the few remaining financial blind spots.>
“Generous policy, huh. Isn't it just that having cash makes it easier to pass money under the table?”
<No. Although there are such ‘side effects.’>
The second harvest was the weapons the punk bastards had been carrying.
Four submachine guns and ammunition.
The last was a plastic bag containing narcotics.
The quantity was surprisingly large.
Not an amount for one person to take.
“So these bastards were dealers.”
Not wholesalers moving narcotics in bulk, but retailers who took product from a wholesaler and sold it.
These punk bastards had set up shop beside a garbage bin.
“Lunatics. Why do business in a place that reeks like this?”
Woojin put the bag of narcotics back into the dealer's clothes.
Then he threw the dealers' corpses into the garbage bin.
CLUNK.
<Officer Woojin? Will you not be selling the narcotics? Tall Man would buy narcotics as well.>
“Right. I won't be selling them.”
Woojin spoke as he picked up a garbage bag.
“If I sell these narcotics, Tall Man will launder them perfectly and put them into circulation. And then somebody in the city will buy these narcotics and use them, won't they? And if they get addicted, their mind goes.”
<That would be so.>
“And if their mind goes, they'll be careless about their garbage too. Putting bags out any old way, throwing trash wherever.”
<That is highly likely. People with mental difficulties pay less attention to cleanliness.>
“There you go. If I don't dispose of these narcotics right here, it all comes back around as a result that makes the city dirtier.”
<Ahh! So that was it, Officer Woojin! To think there was such deep meaning behind it! Your thinking really is profound!>
Daphne let out a cry as though she were moved.
Which left Woojin slightly flustered.
She actually believed this sophistry?
“Actually, what I just said was a joke.”
<What?!>
“The reason I don't handle narcotics is that it's a worse business than you'd think.”
It was true that narcotics made money easily.
But precisely because of that, far too many flies swarmed around it.
How many of Lemming City's illegal organizations kept their hands off narcotics?
Get pulled into the fight over narcotics profits and things got seriously troublesome.
Not appropriate as a sanitation civil servant's side job.
“And narcotics are illegal. I have to become at least an A3-grade citizen, and a past that includes handling narcotics would be a stumbling block.”
Astonishingly, narcotics were illegal in Lemming City.
Even though you could get chemical narcotics by walking a little way into the back alleys, and get electronic narcotics by digging around the net for a moment.
Was anyone even enforcing the narcotics laws?
Still, it got reflected in document screenings.
That was the sole use of a law that existed in name only.
<What you said earlier still bothers me, but in any case you have made a wise decision.>
“I have.”
<But how do you intend to gather money? You need to gather money quickly and replace your artificial heart, don't you?>
“I have a business in mind for that. It's a little hard to do right now…….”
Woojin picked up the broom.
All the large garbage had gone into the bin by now.
Time to sweep.
SWISH, SWISH.
“Right now I have to focus on raising my rating! Daphne. How's the time? Think I can earn a rating point today too?”
<It is going to be very close.>
“No good! Faster, faster!”
―[Sweeping] has risen to Level 5.
“Oh?”
Woojin grinned at the status window message that came up right on cue.
Then he swept around the garbage bin at a speed a little faster still.
***
―[Hauling] has risen to Level 7.
―[Diamond Qigong] has risen to Level 4.
That day Woojin raised [Hauling] and [Diamond Qigong] by one more level each.
Thanks to that his cleaning speed got a little faster.
And his work time…….
<The current time is 15:58! Elapsed time is 11 hours 58 minutes! Despite a great many twists and turns, you have finished your shift within the standard working hours today as well! Truly remarkable!>
“Right? I think I'm pretty remarkable myself.”
The skills had helped, but if Woojin had let his attention wander even slightly he wouldn't have made the time.
Woojin had worked without resting for so much as a second.
<For your hard work today as well, Officer Woojin, I shall raise your performance rating by 1 point. Your current performance rating is 45.3 points.>
“There we go! Earned another 2,000,000 credits today!”
And with that the day's work was over.
The self-driving garbage truck ran along Lemming City's expressway.
Woojin sat in the driver's seat and unrolled the banknotes that had been coiled up with a rubber band.
He flattened the curled bills out crisp and counted them one by one.
Perhaps because they had belonged to dealers, some of the bills had white narcotic powder on them.
“Well, well? Only 760,000 credits in here?”
<760,000 is 38 percent of your monthly salary, Officer Woojin.>
“Exactly. Isn't the salary way too low?”
<A sanitation civil servant's salary is determined by the Lemming City Integrated Management System, and…….>
“Ah, forget it. I know the line.”
<I would like to give you more as well.>
“Really?”
<Of course. We are friends, aren't we?>
Woojin still found it hard to trust the City Public Service AI's goodwill.
Did she really think of him as a friend?
Or was it a programmed response?
“Anyway, let's not go straight back to the dormitory. Let's stop somewhere on the way.”
<Understood. Where shall we go?>
“Somewhere I can buy an old tarp.”
<Searching……. If that's all, it should be available in District 251 as well.>
“I'm going into District 251 late. If I get to the garage early, Victor will catch on, won't he. To the fact that I'm raising my performance rating smoothly.”
<Even if he catches on, wouldn't there be nothing Officer Victor Kruger could do? Ratings are awarded according to the sanitation civil servant work regulations, aren't they?>
“You're an innocent one, Daphne. If Victor learns that, obviously he'll interfere somehow.”
Which was why he intended to delay his return home for a week.
<Understood. Search results suggest District 271 would be suitable.>
“Okay. Let's head that way.”
<But why do you want to buy an old tarp?>
“Ah. That.”
Woojin shrugged as if he had no choice.
“I need it to land the first strike. Personally I'd love to bolt missiles and machine guns all over the garbage truck, but I have no money right now.”
<Is that so?>
“Still, the effect will probably be good.”
Because it was a method that had worked well in the game too.
Woojin grinned and swallowed the rest of his words.
***
That night.
Punks gathered at a 24-hour eatery where the sign threw electrical sparks instead of lighting up.
Walls gone yellow.
Chairs with the synthetic leather flaking off dirtily like dead skin.
When the punks ordered, a food processor that hadn't been cleaned in who knew how long tossed out excessively sweet and salty dishes.
Spaghetti, hot dogs, hamburgers, fries.
All synthetic food made from cheap ingredients.
The punks doused that aggressive food in capsaicin sauce and ate while chattering about information they had come by just a short while ago.
“Word is Killy James dropped dead. That pervert bastard who liked the smell of garbage.”
“So that retard finally died.”
“That's sweet, isn't it? Let's take over their district!”
“Idiot. The question is who killed Killy.”
“Right. What if a gang killed Killy? Then we'd have a gang after us too, wouldn't we?”
“Gang, my ass. They say a cleaner killed him.”
“A cleaner? He died to one of those cowardly bastards?”
“Killy, that retarded bastard. Even the way he dies is retarded.”
“Fuck, then it's sweet, isn't it? Let's take it over fast!”
“Which is exactly why I called you all here.”
A punk who had swapped both arms for crude prosthetics spoke with a calm look in his eyes.
When he glanced around, every punk gathered in the eatery turned their eyes to him.
“Early tomorrow morning we kill the cleaner bastard right away and take the district for ourselves. Other bastards have their eyes on it too.”
***
Dawn.
Between building walls gone blackish from long years soaked in black exhaust.
The alley with the garbage bin.
The punks were lying in ambush in exactly that place.
Hiding behind the corners of the alley, cutting a shutter's padlock off with bolt cutters to get inside a building, aiming guns through gaps in broken windows as they waited for the garbage truck to come.
VROOOM.
Sure enough, the garbage truck came into the alley right on time.
The truck's headlights lit up the garbage-strewn alley brightly.
But the punks didn't attack right away.
Because Lemming City's garbage trucks were as tough as tanks.
The garbage truck was a vehicle that went around every corner of the city, safe districts and outlaw-ridden districts alike.
When making the rounds in districts with poor public safety, there were many cases of a garbage truck being attacked and wrecked.
Buying a new garbage truck each time was wasteful.
So Lemming City had simply made the garbage trucks as tough as tanks.
But, Lemming City being Lemming City, sanitation civil servants were supplied with the same feeble equipment as ever.
It was why the punks were holding their breath and waiting.
When the cleaner stepped down from the truck.
That was the timing to attack.
“…….”
“…….”
“…….”
“…Looks like nobody's in the truck?”
At first the inside of the truck wasn't easy to see.
But as their eyes gradually adjusted to the headlights, the inside of the windshield began to come into view bit by bit.
An interior where nothing but the seat was visible.
“Seriously, I don't see a cleaner.”
“What's going on?”
“Autonomous driving system glitched out? So it drove over without the cleaner on board. Heh heh.”
“Quit talking shit. Retard.”
While the punks were thrown by this strange situation.
Woojin was hidden in the loading bed at the rear of the garbage truck, covered by an old tarp.
<Officer Woojin. There are enemies lying in ambush. I shall create and transmit a three-dimensional map right away.>
Daphne scanned the surroundings through the sensors of the truck's autonomous driving system, made them into a 3D map, and transmitted it to Woojin's neural interface.
A three-dimensional map marked with eight red dots rose up before Woojin's eyes.
<Eight enemies. All are armed with submachine guns, and one has combat prosthetic arms equipped on both arms. The square dot is the prosthetic user.>
Woojin nodded.
Then he silently pulled back the tarp and slipped out of the loading bed.
Wearing only pitch-black work clothes, without the fluorescent sanitation civil servant's coat.
―[Silent Movement] has risen to Level 2.