A mercenary stood between the red-brick buildings.
He was a snake of a man.
From the jaw down to the neck had been replaced with prosthetics, and since no artificial skin had been laid over it, the metal was fully exposed and reflecting the light.
With only the throat gleaming in the dim shadows, it looked as though a snake had reared up out of a man's clothing.
Visible weapons: a handgun, a submachine gun, smoke grenades, a combat knife, a prosthetic right arm, and the prosthetic covering him from jaw to neck.
Woojin murmured in a low voice.
“Daphne. Check whether Gilt Banner is in the Mercenary Database.”
<Searching. Gilt Banner found in the MDC. Retrieving the record costs 100,000 credits. Shall I retrieve it?>
“Yes.”
Most of Lemming City's mercenaries registered their profiles in the MDB, the Mercenary Database.
It wasn't something the law compelled.
Registered or not made no difference.
It was simply far easier to receive commissions if you registered a profile in the MDB.
There was also the advantage that maintaining a good rating over a long period brought in better-paying, cleaner commissions.
Even people who did illegal work registered with the MDB first.
There was nothing to lose by registering a profile.
Illegal work was taken under a different identity anyway, so it had nothing to do with MDB ratings.
Of course, having your identity exposed while doing illegal work was a problem.
<Retrieval complete. Gilt Banner is a Grade D mercenary with a review rating of 2.17.>
“That's low.”
Mercenary grades ran from D to S, and review ratings were out of five.
It meant Gilt was a bottom-grade mercenary and that his clients hadn't been much satisfied with how he handled his work.
MDB data was for reference only, of course.
There were those who called themselves Grade D mercenaries while hiding their true ability.
But at this level, a fight was worth considering.
However much a Grade D mercenary hid his strength, how much could there be?
Naturally it was best if they went their separate ways as though nothing had happened.
The problem was that the odds of that looked low…….
There was no way a filthy piece of work who would go find a dead mercenary's daughter and play at being friendly would give up so quickly.
Keeping his guard up so he could fight at any moment, Woojin asked Gilt Banner.
“The mercenary from the police station. What is it?”
At Woojin's question, Gilt Banner made an unpleasant expression with the upper part of his face, jaw excluded.
The bastard's jaw lacked the high-grade function of producing expressions.
“I have a few things to ask you.”
“What? I'm busy working.”
“The mercenary you filed the death report for yesterday, Gileon Cross. I'm curious about the circumstances when he died. Didn't he say something before he died?”
“He asked me to file a death report.”
“Other than that.”
“Who knows. He was in a very precarious state. I think he said something, but I couldn't make it out.”
Gilt Banner nodded with a convinced face.
Then he asked again.
“You said you took Gileon's equipment? What equipment was there? I'd like you to sell it to me.”
“I've already contacted a broker I know. What reason do I have to sell to you instead?”
“I'll give you a good price.”
Gilt smiled as if he were good-natured and tried to haggle.
Woojin stroked his chin as though considering Gilt's offer.
How much did Gilt know about the Tech Junkie that used Shaolin Palm Fist?
How many more mercenaries were after Shaolin Palm Fist?
It was a chance to collect information.
“Why are you so fixated on a dead mercenary's equipment?”
“Because what he was after is a rather expensive thing. Ah, and don't get any greedy ideas. It isn't something a mere cleaner can take for himself.”
Woojin swallowed dryly as if Gilt's story had made him nervous.
“…What kind of thing is it?”
“Have you heard the rumor about the Tech Junkie appearing in District 297?”
“The one that uses Shaolin Palm Fist?”
“That's right. They say that Tech Junkie was made by a researcher who fled Shaolin Prosthetic Science. In truth the researcher who fled Shaolin Prosthetic Science matters more than Shaolin Palm Fist does.”
A researcher who fled Shaolin Prosthetic Science.
A hypothesis surfaced in Woojin's head.
The mysterious figure who had tried to create a new martial art with Diamond Qigong.
Might he be that very researcher who fled Shaolin Prosthetic Science?
When Woojin fell silent and sank into thought, Gilt seemed to take it for fear.
“Hahaha. Hear that a megacorp is involved and you go quiet. I understand. Nobody who got mixed up in megacorp business ever came out of it well.”
“Are you doing this on a commission from a megacorp?”
“I wish…… but I'm not that impressive a mercenary.”
“And the dead Gileon Cross?”
“There's a possibility. He had a good reputation.”
“Are other people chasing the Shaolin Prosthetic Science researcher too?”
“Obviously they are. There are plenty of bastards besides me who'd like to find you. You're in a fairly dangerous position.”
“I'll say this first: I don't have the equipment right now. Kill me and you'll never find it.”
“Aren't you underestimating the back alley's hackers? If they want to find something, they can find anything. Don't make too much trouble for me, all right? Hahahahaha!”
Low-quality machine sound generated by an artificial voice box filled the alley.
Gilt's steel jaw split apart and shut again, producing a grotesque sight.
It was meant to frighten Woojin.
Things would go more smoothly for him if Woojin were afraid.
There was no way Woojin didn't know that.
‘I've gotten about as much as conversation can give me.’
Woojin likewise had no further reason to talk with him.
There was a limit to the information simple conversation could uncover, and it couldn't be trusted 100 percent either.
“I'll hand over the equipment. Actually, I've got it in the garbage truck.”
“Hahaha. A wise choice.”
Woojin climbed into the truck's driver's seat.
He pulled the pin from a grenade and watched the truck's rear camera closely.
The garbage truck had tank-level durability.
Because it had to travel every corner of Lemming City, where bullets and magic flew and martial artists ran wild.
If its durability hadn't been cranked absurdly high from the start, Lemming City would have had to spend an enormous amount on garbage truck repairs.
Step. Step.
Gilt Banner grinned and approached the truck.
When the bastard had come close enough behind the truck.
Woojin opened the window and threw the grenade.
“Oh, fu—!”
BOOM!
The grenade went off behind the garbage truck.
Woojin checked the truck's rear camera and asked Daphne.
“Daphne. The enemy?”
<He evaded and went around to the left side of the truck!>
SLAM!
In that instant a loud noise came from the passenger side.
Gilt Banner had slapped his palm against the passenger window and was staring into the cab with bloodshot eyes.
“You greedy little cleaner bastard!”
“Sturdy window, isn't it?”
Woojin murmured that and climbed down from the driver's seat.
Gilt Banner leapt into the air like a frog and vaulted over the garbage truck.
At the same time, from up in the air, he raised his submachine gun and took aim at Woojin.
Woojin had read his movement too.
He shut the driver's door, backed away, and aimed his own submachine gun at the sky.
BRRRRRT—!
BRRRRRT—!
Bullets poured from sky to ground and shot from ground to sky, crossing paths.
But the picture Woojin wanted didn't come out.
ZZZIP—!
Just before Woojin's bullets could turn Gilt into a rag, a wire fired from Gilt's right prosthetic arm and bit into a wall.
When the arm reeled the wire back in, Gilt's body flew as though sucked toward the wall.
Woojin's bullets had only grazed his collar.
Meanwhile, Woojin stood nailed to the spot, looking up at the sky.
His fluorescent work coat had been shot through and hung in tatters.
But no blood ran from the bullet holes.
“You cleaner bastard! You've got an external arts implant!”
Gilt shouted in shock, but he showed no sign of intending to flee.
Which meant he had a way to bring down an external arts user strong enough to stop bullets.
Gilt threw away his gun and shot toward Woojin.
Woojin likewise took the opening stance of Snake Shadow Fist Art and waited for him.
‘How are you coming at me?’
Gilt threw a smoke grenade at Woojin.
White smoke filled the alley in an instant.
Woojin's field of view went white.
But Woojin didn't panic; he spoke to Daphne.
“Daphne. You can detect the enemy, right?”
<I will send you three-dimensional battlefield data right away.>
Fluorescent lines appeared in Woojin's white field of view, drawing the outlines of every object around him.
Daphne had used the truck's autonomous driving system data to create a three-dimensional image and transmit it to Woojin's neural interface.
But strangely, Gilt's attack didn't follow.
Not a tactic of sealing off vision with smoke and striking at the momentary opening?
Then there was only one answer.
‘Poison!’
―You have acquired [Poison Resistance (Level 1)].
―Thanks to your [Inexplicable] growth potential, proficiency rises rapidly.
Woojin hurriedly shut his mouth and held his breath.
But he couldn't block the poison completely.
It penetrated through the mucous membranes of his eyes and nose and through his skin.
Level 1 Poison Resistance would reduce the damage, but a long fight was dangerous.
Through his blurring vision, Woojin spotted Gilt glowing in fluorescent outline.
The bastard's lower jaw had split in two, and inside it a round nozzle was visible.
He had been spraying toxic gas from that nozzle and mixing it into the smoke.
At the same time, Gilt formed a hand seal with his right hand.
At that, the gray gas spraying from Gilt's lower jaw gathered into a single mass and began moving like a snake.
The gray poison gas burrowed into the thick smoke and hid itself.
‘He's combined poison gas with atmosphere manipulation magic.’
[Atmosphere Manipulation] was a Tier 0 basic magic with only enough power to generate wind.
[Atmosphere Manipulation] alone was of little use, but combined with poison gas it displayed powerful force.
Because it could keep the poison gas from dispersing, maintaining a heavy concentration, and wrap the enemy in it entirely.
Which made it all the more necessary for Woojin to close the distance with Gilt.
Taking down a Gilt who moved three-dimensionally using footwork and a wire with bullets alone would be difficult.
To bring Gilt down he had to close in and drive one powerful blow into him.
TAP-TAP-TAP!
Woojin shot toward Gilt, treading the footwork of Snake Shadow Fist Art.
At that, wind blew up around Woojin and the pain in his eyes and nose grew worse.
The [Atmosphere Manipulation] magic had clearly wrapped Woojin in the poison gas.
‘Looks like Gilt can detect things inside the smoke too.’
Being a mercenary who used a combination of smoke grenades, poison gas, and [Atmosphere Manipulation], he had probably fitted his prosthetics with a thermal camera and radar.
But so had Woojin's garbage truck.
Woojin closed his eyes entirely.
His vision went dark, but the fluorescent outlines of objects remained.
Because the fluorescent outlines weren't reflected in Woojin's eyes; the neural interface projected them directly onto his visual cortex.
TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP!
“No, why are you still……?!”
Woojin closed to right in front of Gilt in an instant.
The bastard's face, drawn in fluorescent lines, twisted in shock.
An ordinary cleaner would have gone down to the poison gas long ago.
Even mercenaries with poison resistance weren't many.
Among Grade D mercenaries like Gilt they would have been truly rare.
―[Poison Resistance] has risen to Level 2.
And how many people could possibly have predicted that Woojin's [Poison Resistance] would grow stronger in real time?
If such a person existed, he would be a madman.
Qi rose like a heat shimmer over the fist of [Diamond Qigong], harder than steel.
Woojin's fist stirred wind through the gray poison gas and landed squarely on Gilt's head.
CRACK—!
Gilt's nose bone collapsed and his steel lower jaw shattered to pieces.
The right hand that had been holding the seal came apart limply, and his body sank down without strength.
Gilt stood there blankly, then died from a single blow.
―You have gained experience.
―You have leveled up.
―Current Level : 10
‘Stupid bastard. Looks like he let his guard down.’
Woojin was relieved that the fight had ended sooner than expected.
However much [Poison Resistance] he had, it didn't block the poison perfectly.
Had the fight gone long, the outcome would have been uncertain.
Woojin walked past Gilt's corpse and got as far away as he could from the place with the poison gas.
Of course, since he had to avoid a penalty for leaving his work site, he didn't go more than 300 meters from the garbage truck.
“Pwahh!”
Woojin let out the breath he had been holding.
His nose still stung and tears blurred his sight, but the air he drew in was fresh and it felt good.
♪~
Just then a ringtone sounded inside Woojin's head.
The caller was Lena Cross, the daughter of the mercenary whose death Woojin had reported.