Chapter 4

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 4: Living in the Game World (4)

If the zones of Neon City were broadly classified into three types, they would be as follows:

Firstly, the upper-class Platinum Zone, where the winners of capitalism reside.

Secondly, the middle-class Business Zone, famous for the central business district, Center Plaza, where relatively ordinary middle-class citizens live.

And lastly, the lower-class Citizen Zone, where more city residents live mixed together than the combined upper and middle classes.

While there were dungeon-like underground and sewer areas in the game, that’s not important right now.

Naturally, as one descends from the upper to the lower levels, the safety level decreases, and the corruption rate of the Neon City Police Department (NCPD) investigated by NCB24 increases.

Even in such lower levels, there’s one area that stands out as the most dangerous and it’s none other than East Beverly.

Anyone who first comes to Neon City will harbor one suspicion.

It wasn’t an area close to Cloud Park, the heart of urban smog, or the endless factories showing sprawl. Nor was it close to the city’s main external garbage landfill site, which is where scavengers are most likely to infiltrate.

But it was also distant from places teeming with gangs like Redwood or China Town, or Little Shinjuku.

So why was East Beverly singled out as the most dangerous area in the lower classes?

The reason was simple.

It was because of a certain pub nestled in the heart of this area.

The pub, No Answer. Commonly known as the gathering place for the unruly.

It’s also a place where many freelance mercenaries come and go, functioning as a broker exchange. Thus, it’s also a place where daydreaming transients gather.

And now, it was my meeting place.

“Ah, I don’t want to go in.”

[I advise against that action, I respond.]

“I know, I know. I was just talking to myself, alright?”

I found myself exhaling a sigh that seemed to have multiplied.

I don’t understand why they called someone like me.

I just wanted to go home.

I inwardly criticized the friend who (forcibly) made an appointment with me.

I lifted my head and glanced ahead.

At first glance, it’s just an old building.

But there’s a strange heat enveloping the entire building, noticeable even from the outside.

Boom- Boom-.

Faint vibrations and barely audible music can be heard.

I glanced around discreetly.

Hmm.

There are three orc thugs hiding in the alley on one side, and several drug scavengers, who appear to be organ thieves, on the other side. There are also a few suspicious individuals on the rooftops of surrounding buildings, seemingly monitoring the front of the tavern.

They’re people hoping for a stroke of luck.

In the mercenary business, equipment and body are assets. Even if you’re a rookie mercenary, your equipment (organs) often holds considerable value.

The carelessness of drunken mercenaries wandering around was closely related to the fact that they frequently disappeared in this area.

It was more common than one might think.

It wasn’t news-worthy, just a common occurrence.

Around here, it’s nothing to joke about.

That’s how many rookie mercenaries who came to Neon City in search of dreams and hopes end up. At the same time, it also means that many mercenaries disappear without a trace.

Although the alleyways are periodically cleaned by pubs and other brokers, it’s like insects continually infesting food, so eradication has been partly abandoned.

In fact, some say that it’s the fault of mercenaries for wandering around carelessly.

There’s also the fact that all those lurking in the alleyways are mayflies, belonging to no gang or organization, which was another reason.

Gangs of a certain scale rarely come near this tavern.

Because everyone knows they risk being shot or stabbed by the mercenaries scattered around.

There’s no need for them to take on the risk of coming here.

Aside from that, there are also a few mercenaries milling around the building.

Their smiles, despite their fierce faces, are bright.

They appeared to be mercenaries who had probably received a request from another broker, but had just been introduced and qualified to join ‘No Answer’.

Their innocent smiles were like chicks walking around.

Of course, they looked a bit frightening for chicks.

And finally, there’s one mercenary standing behind, guarding the entrance to No Answer.

The scenery here remains the same day or night.

I guess I’ve calmed down somewhat.

I approached the main entrance of No Answer slowly.

The orc mercenary on guard duty, Smith, raised his black sunglasses with his fingers.

Inside the sunglasses, small letters or images could be seen faintly. It was a common smart lens in the cyberpunk world.

“t’s been a while. Mr. Shun.”

“I’ve told you several times already, it’s Shiwoon, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t it written as Shun on your ID?”

“…Well, yeah.”

There’s nothing to say about that.

There were few people in Neon City who could pronounce my name correctly.

Perhaps because there were so many of Chinese or Japanese descent.

It didn’t take long for my name to change from ‘Lee Shiwoon’ to ‘Shun Lee’.

When creating my identity, I distinctly remember pronouncing it as ‘Shiwoon’, but somehow I ended up with a Chinese-style name.

The sorrow of a Korean who has lost his country…

It’s indescribable.

Smith, the guard mercenary of No Answer, is a ‘normal orc mercenary’ that is rare even in Neon City.

If it’s a stereotype, then it’s a stereotype, but in fact, it’s not common for orcs with decent jobs.

Instead of regular jobs, they often resort to ‘illegal activities’ for money.

Smith, especially, had undergone surgery to file down his tusks, so at first glance he could be mistaken for a race other than orcs.

Considering that most orcs tend to flaunt their tusks, it made him seem even more out of the ordinary.

Furthermore, some orcs even embed LED devices into their tusks to create ‘glowing tusks’, so he belonged to a truly rare category.

[Translator – Peptobismol]

“Is everything going well these days?”

“Oh, you know, the same as always.”

“The rumor that Yooseong is looking for you is already well-known in the pub.”

“…That’s why I came.”

How could there be rumors circulating about someone looking for me?

My vision darkened at the unexpected news from an old friend (the appointment party).

‘There will be another strange story going around.’

Smith, seeing me sigh, smiled brightly.

His smile, showing the filed-down tusks inside his mouth, accentuated his presence.

It seemed a bit species-discriminatory, but the fact that he was an orc couldn’t be helped.

He looked even more repulsive than before.

But then again, maybe that’s why he was chosen as a security guard?

I felt a force that ordinary people could not even come close to.

An orc standing at over 2 meters…

Even I became polite.

“Alright, then let’s go in quickly. The boss is looking for you, but unfortunately, he’s not here right now….”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

Thank goodness.

I swallowed the rest of what I was going to say.

I walked past Smith, who slightly moved aside for me, and entered the door.

The corridor greeted me briefly, long if it had to be, short if it needed to be.

Dozens of cameras seemed to monitor the entire corridor. Anyway, to enter, you had to pass through this corridor.

I was familiar with it since I had been here many times.

I walked through the corridor without any burden, entering the inside of the pub, No Answer.

The atmosphere inside was the opposite of the static atmosphere outside.

In a word… a club?

The place was filled with a chaotic atmosphere.

Laser lights reflecting everywhere, and loud pop songs echoed throughout the first floor.

[Detecting noise levels between 90 and 100 decibels. Objectively evaluating this as a loud environment, I report.]

“It’s really loud.”

Even in this noisy situation, Eve’s voice was very clear.

It was expected since the voice was heard directly inside my head.

[Whether broker activities are feasible in such noise conditions, I wonder]

“There are some quiet spots over there. The first floor was intentionally made like this for rookie mercenaries to get to know each other.”

[I confirm.]

Honestly, I don’t know much either, since I didn’t spend much time on the first floor. I always went straight to the second floor with my friend.

There were so many quests and events, making it a bustling place in the game world.

It was tough for me, now that the game had become reality.

First of all, the smell was so strong that I couldn’t stand it.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve been here, I feel completely overwhelmed.’

I decided I should go to the second floor quickly.

I headed towards the direction of the elevator.

This building didn’t have stairs. There was only one way to move between floors, and that was the elevator.

Since there was only one elevator, there was no confusion about which direction to go.

Although I cautiously moved to avoid the mercenaries, I couldn’t help but attract some attention.

It was similar to a scene from a western cowboy movie.

Even if they were drinking, when a new person entered, they suddenly stopped what they were doing and quietly observed the newcomer.

It wasn’t that everyone was staring at me, but anyone passing by would secretly glance at me.

…After all, the first floor was the first floor.

It’s not like they were secretly watching, it was just plainly obvious.

This wasn’t even the first time something like this happened.

I didn’t pay much attention to the stares.

Anyway, no one on the first floor would be familiar with me. At most, the bartender?

I steadily moved on.

When I approached the area near the elevator, the surroundings and atmosphere changed slightly.

At least it was quieter compared to the surroundings.

Everyone on the first floor was either near the entrance, on the stage, or at the pub.

That was the difference between the first and second floors.

The reason for the different atmosphere was clear.

In the mercenary industry, being able to go to the second floor of No Answer meant being recognized as a real mercenary.

And I was lucky to have good friends.

[Clock direction 7 o’clock. Someone not in my database is discussing the human ‘Lee Shiwoon,’ I report.]

“Huh?”

I murmured quietly.

Was there anyone here to talk about me?

[Should I amplify the audio? I wait.]

“Well, shall we?

[The recorded voice in the database is being amplified and played.]”

I wonder what’s going on.

Soon, the voices of two men could be heard.

[Hey, hey. Look over there. Someone’s going to the second floor.]

[It’s the first time I’ve seen him. Who is he?]

[Yeah, right? If he’s going to the second floor, he must be someone famous, right?]

[Oh, it’s him. He’s a lucky mercenary who has good friends. But he’s got a nasty temper.]

[Ah… Didn’t you say you were envious last time? Some are fooling around on the first floor. I’m jealous.]

[They say he’s a mage. you know. A mage. Ah… I’m really jealous. Even a mage— I stop the audio playback.]

It wasn’t unexpected.

Just typical gossip.

“Hmm.”

[Shall I kill him?]

No, no.

“No, why kill him? He didn’t even say anything about me.”

[I acknowledge that the expression was poorly made. Shall I terminate his life signal?]

“Just leave it. There are plenty of guys like that.”

I was already used to it.

That’s what being a mage is like in this world.

There was a reason why I didn’t see many of them when I played the game.

…Well, I’d probably be the same.

Just shoot and be done with it. Who would bother studying magic and using it?

In this cyberpunk world.

Magic was already an obsolete and disappearing technology.

It was inevitable that the perception of mages would be so damaged.

And on top of that, I have famous friends.

It’s an easy position to attract criticism from others.

“Why are you getting angry?”

[This AI hasn’t learned such emotions yet, I reply.]

“Oh, really?”

Either way.

I stepped into the elevator just in time.

“But come to think of it, you can’t do anything you want, can you? Except me, you don’t even have a connected network.”

[……]

“…You can’t do anything, right?”

[……]

Why isn’t she answering?

Scary.

[Translator – Peptobismol]