Woojin set down the punk's prosthetic arm.
The punk hung limp like a rag, and Woojin's handprint was left faintly in the prosthetic.
‘Diamond Qigong……. I knew about it, but this is incredible.’
If you ranked the Tier 4 martial arts that appear in [Steel Sweeper], Diamond Qigong would always place in the top ten.
And if you added the condition of equipping no prosthetics, [Diamond Qigong] leapt straight to first place.
Because of the defense.
Among Tier 4 martial arts there were a few that granted physical ability as powerful as [Diamond Qigong]'s, but no martial art granted defense as solid as [Diamond Qigong]'s.
By now not even a round from an ordinary sniper rifle would punch through Woojin's body.
Even so, Woojin felt a slight pang of regret.
Because he had wanted to raise [Diamond Qigong]'s level a little further before spending skill points on it.
‘I wanted to save the skill points a while longer.’
Skills could be grown through training.
But the higher a skill's level rose, and the higher its tier, the slower growth through training became.
So his plan had been to raise [Diamond Qigong]'s level by training while it was low, and then use skill points once [Diamond Qigong]'s level got high and training lost its effect.
‘Well, Level 4 is still a good deal of progress.’
Was it thanks to the synergy with [Hauling], which he used throughout his work?
[Diamond Qigong] had reached Level 4 at a fairly quick pace.
Not the best possible outcome, but he had saved as much as could be saved.
‘And spending the skill points puts my mind at ease.’
Hoarding skill points carried a certain amount of risk.
Because it meant postponing immediate growth in preparation for a better skill appearing, in order to squeeze out maximum efficiency.
But now that [Diamond Qigong] was at Level 9, at the very least he was no longer going to die to a stray bullet while walking down the street.
However many ordinary punks came at him, Woojin wouldn't lose.
‘Shall I farm some implants, then?’
Woojin laid the prosthetic punk's corpse face down.
From the hollow at the back of the skull down to the root of the neck, it was covered in metal plates of a special alloy.
It was the cover protecting the neural interface.
Woojin slipped the wire saw into a gap in that cover.
When he worked the saw gently, the cover's locking mechanism snapped off.
The rest he solved with strength.
When he jammed his fingers into the gap in the protective cover and applied force, the cover came away with pathetic ease.
Thanks to [Diamond Qigong]'s outrageous strength.
The neural interface's sockets were exposed.
Two round holes in the middle, and four jacks for connecting cables.
One of the round holes had a small cylindrical device mounted in it.
Click.
Woojin pulled the cylindrical device out of the punk's neural interface.
Then he turned it back and forth, examining it.
The device's exterior was neither clean nor free of scratches.
There was no brand logo or parts information to be found anywhere.
The only trace by which its identity could be recognized was the words “Black Snake Fist,” scrawled in permanent marker.
“So this is the [Black Snake Fist] martial arts implant.”
Black Snake Fist.
A Tier 1 fist art circulating on the black market.
It was said to be a martial art some underworld sect had used long ago, but nobody knew its exact origin.
Copyright and patent were irrelevant too.
Because it had never been registered in the first place.
A public domain martial art that nobody protected and nobody claimed ownership of.
Its performance was poor to match, which was why Woojin hadn't spent a skill point on Black Snake Fist.
‘But it's a different story if I can get it for free.’
Woojin immediately got into the garbage truck's driver's seat.
Because he had to open his neural interface's protective cover.
That was the moment a person who had received neural interface surgery was at their most vulnerable.
<Warning. When opening your neural interface's protective cover, it is recommended that you do so in a safe location.>
<Do you wish to open your neural interface's protective cover?>
“Yes.”
<Opening the neural interface's protective cover.>
The sound of small locks releasing traveled through his skull to Woojin's eardrums.
Woojin pushed the protective cover at the back of his head aside and slotted the martial arts implant into the socket.
<Security Warning>
<Contact with an unauthorized device has been confirmed.>
<This device may cause instability in the user's system.>
<Do you wish to permit two-way data access?>
Being an illegal implant circulating on the black market, a security warning came up.
Of course, Woojin had nothing to fear.
He had [Absolute Mind], and Daphne.
“I've got you, don't I, Daphne? You'll block any viruses?”
<The firewall was already running in real time, even without you saying so.>
“Good. Permit data access!”
<Permitting data access.>
<Combat program Black Snake Fist confirmed. Do you wish to install it?>
“Of course.”
<Installing combat program.>
<Installing…….>
<Combat program Black Snake Fist installation complete>
Black Snake Fist installed quickly and smoothly.
A far cry from the result when he had installed [Incomplete Diamond Qigong] from the virus-laden special computer.
Only natural.
The Black Snake Fist martial arts implant was a piece the punk had been using until moments ago, still warm.
If there had been a virus in it, the punk wouldn't have been using it.
At the same time, a status window message rose up before Woojin's eyes.
―You have acquired [Black Snake Fist (Level 5)].
―The previously learned [Incomplete Black Snake Fist] and [Black Snake Fist] are the same technique. The two techniques are integrated into one.
‘Oh? I got a Level 5 skill?’
He had expected to gain a skill from equipping a martial arts implant.
But he hadn't expected to start at Level 5.
“Daphne. If a group of people equip the identical martial arts implant, do they all display identical ability?”
<No. Differences in performance can arise according to the proficiency of the person who equips the martial arts implant.>
“Meaning if you use a martial arts implant for a long time and build up experience, you can use that martial art more skillfully?”
<That is correct.>
Which meant there were differences in level even with the same martial arts implant.
“Then is there something like a minimum proficiency that a martial arts implant guarantees as a baseline?”
<Of course. Even a person who is bad at fighting can fight skillfully once a martial arts implant is fitted. Because the martial arts implant provides a certain degree of martial arts proficiency.>
“And how much is that?”
<It differs by manufacturer policy, but martial arts implants in general circulation provide a minimum proficiency of 5 degrees. Implants supplied for military use provide a higher minimum proficiency, but the exact details are classified.>
‘Black Snake Fist was Level 5. So level refers to proficiency in the martial art.’
It seemed safe to think of it that way.
Even a black market martial arts implant would generally follow the standard in common use.
‘In the game martial arts were divided only by tier, but now that it's reality, proficiency enters the picture. Not bad.’
The [Diamond Qigong] implant Woojin had used in the game would have been 5 degrees, in other words Level 5.
But the [Diamond Qigong] skill Woojin had now was Level 9.
Which meant his current [Diamond Qigong] put out more powerful performance than the [Diamond Qigong] he had known.
The fact that a martial arts implant guaranteed a minimum proficiency was welcome news too.
Because it meant that simply equipping a martial arts implant would immediately net him a Level 5 martial arts skill.
‘Once I have money, the first thing I should buy is a pile of martial arts implants.’
Woojin grinned and removed the [Black Snake Fist] martial arts implant.
Then he reattached his neural interface's protective cover.
<The Black Snake Fist combat program has been deleted.>
That text came up before his eyes, but he didn't care.
Because the [Black Snake Fist] skill remained.
The [Black Snake Fist] martial arts implant?
It had served its purpose, so he could sell it.
It should fetch at least 5,000,000 credits.
‘This is the jackpot.’
To use a martial art you had to have a martial arts implant mounted in a neural interface socket.
The reason?
Because a neural interface's processing power can't keep up with a martial arts interface's combat-dedicated processor.
…was the surface-level reason.
The true purpose was for the megacorps to monopolize martial arts and maximize profit.
So they had built a system where you could only use a martial art while a martial arts implant was equipped.
But Woojin acquired the skill after fitting a martial arts implant only once.
He could cross the wall of rules the megacorps had built whenever he pleased.
‘If the megacorps knew about this, they'd hate me a great deal.’
So he had to be careful.
Until he had enough strength to face those bastards.
‘But can I even gain the strength to face a megacorp?’
It looked like an unreachable goal, but for now let's set that question aside.
[Inexplicable], [Absolute Mind], [Incomprehensible], [Gold-Seeking Eye].
Because the limits of the traits Woojin possessed couldn't be gauged either.
Woojin put the Black Snake Fist martial arts implant in his pocket and got out of the garbage truck.
Outside there was still plenty left to farm.
***
That day Woojin was attacked twice more.
Once by a group of five punks.
The second time by a group of six punks.
All of them small fry.
Bastards who had come out with nothing but numbers to rely on, without martial arts implants or special weapons.
Woojin smashed bastards like those thoroughly.
And in the process his marksmanship level rose.
―[Marksmanship] has risen to Level 3.
The next day, then, fifteen punks were waiting for Woojin.
At dawn, in the very spot where the punk who used a martial art had attacked him.
That day too, Woojin was hidden under the tarp in the garbage truck's rear loading bed.
<Officer Woojin. This time there are fifteen. However, I see no personnel equipped with prosthetics.>
Not one of them with prosthetics?
Using a martial art without prosthetics would require powerful external arts.
Could there be someone using magic?
Woojin dealt with the punks more cautiously and more thoroughly.
―[Silent Movement] has risen to Level 4.
―[Dagger Technique] has risen to Level 4.
―[Ambush] has risen to Level 4.
―[Silent Movement], [Dagger Technique], and [Ambush] produce a synergy.
Slit one throat, then another bastard's throat.
He ranged freely through the darkness assassinating punks.
After he killed four, the punks caught on as well.
“Fuck! Joey's dead!”
“Everybody group up and find that bastard! If we move together he won't be able to kill us off as he pleases!”
“Crazy cleaner bastard! Just let me lay eyes on you! I'll kill you!”
The punks bunched into threes and fours across three spots in the alley.
They whispered among themselves, then vanished soundlessly in the direction away from the garbage truck.
Every last one of them.
<Officer Woojin. The enemies are retreating.>
“Guess they got scared.”
For all their big talk, the punks seemed to have already sensed their defeat.
They had put on a strong front out of pride, no doubt.
Run away openly and your comrades would laugh at you, wouldn't they.
So they talked big first and then quietly fled without letting the others know.
“Those bastards were small fry too. A little disappointing.”
The feeling of having let experience and items slip away.
But Woojin decided to be satisfied.
His level hadn't risen, but he had eaten a lot of experience.
And think how large the haul was besides.
Firearms, ammunition, and cash taken from the punks.
Right now the garbage truck's passenger seat was piled high with guns.
“Sell the martial arts implant and all the rest and it should come to about 10,000,000. Add the 15,000,000 from the bet with Victor Kruger and that's 25,000,000!”
<That would mean roughly 13 months without worrying about the deficit!>
“Nah. That's not enough to satisfy me.”
Think how many chances to make money lay ahead.
Woojin grinned and cleaned up around the garbage bin.
From the following day there were no more attacks.
The punks had finally come to understand Woojin's ability.
The “then die” method of explanation had proved truly excellent.
***
Lemming City had eight ultra-large incinerators.
Among them, Incinerator No. 8 was the one used by the sanitation civil servants of Districts 251 through 300.
Sanitation civil servants dumped the garbage collected in their assigned districts at Incinerator No. 8.
The times at which sanitation civil servants finished their work varied.
Incinerator No. 8 was extremely large, and it was used not only by sanitation civil servants but by people from a variety of organizations.
So it wasn't very often that sanitation civil servants ran into a colleague at the incinerator.
Which meant, conversely, that there were times when they did see a colleague.
Sanitation civil servant George Miller kept his eyes fixed out the window as he called to Harvey Garcia in the passenger seat.
“Hey. Look at that.”
“Hm?”
“That crazy new guy. The one who made the bet with Victor. Looks like him.”
Harvey Garcia narrowed his eyes and looked out the window.
Then he muttered as if he couldn't believe it.
“It really is. At an hour this early, how…….”
The eyes of the two sanitation civil servants, grimy with sweat and dust, gathered on Woojin.