NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 3 - A Job in the Lost City
Chapter 3 – A Job in the Lost City
In the Lost City, a request was a means of handling dirty work that couldn’t rely on the authorities.
In other words, it was almost always illegal.
Assault, theft, kidnapping, murder, hacking—you name it.
Nothing was ever ordinary.
Yet, the man before him was asking for a rescue.
“So, you want me to save your younger sibling?”
At Jin’s question, the man nodded with a haggard face.
“Yes. They’re in danger.”
“Hm.”
Jin clenched his fist, crumpling the wrapper into a ball.
He was organizing everything he had just heard in his mind.
“Your sibling is a… what was it? BC? BHC? Some kind of editor?”
“A BH editor. Brain Holic. Wait… don’t tell me you don’t know about it?”
“Should I?”
“N-No, not necessarily…”
The man looked Jin up and down with a puzzled expression.
Then, as if something suddenly clicked, his eyes widened.
“…You don’t have a cyber socket. Are you a purist?”
“Purist? Oh, you mean the noble families? Nah, I’m not from one of those. I picked the vagabond route.”
“…?”
“What?”
Both of them tilted their heads at the same time, failing to understand each other.
Jin had no knowledge of the anti-implant ideology.
And the man couldn’t comprehend Jin’s nonsensical words.
Which made sense—Jin’s understanding of this world amounted to some walkthrough guides he skimmed before starting the game.
And even then, he had skipped reading the story because it felt like a hassle.
So, as someone boasting the lowest level of common sense in this world, he asked with confidence,
“So, what exactly is this BH thing? Let’s hear it.”
“Uh… well…”
Caught up in the moment, the man hesitantly began to explain.
“BH is a technology that allows people to experience someone else’s memories via neural transmission. It conveys all five senses—sight, smell, touch, hearing, taste—as well as the emotions felt by the person.”
Whoa.
That’s a thing?
Jin raised an eyebrow.
This world really was advanced.
You could even experience other people’s lives firsthand.
Anyone out there wanna try living like me?
Getting stranded inside a game overnight.
“So, BH is widely used for positive purposes across society, like rehabilitating criminals or serving as educational material for various fields. But that’s not all…”
The man let out a deep sigh, as if part of his soul was escaping with it.
“BH is also illegally traded as an unethical, immoral pleasure tool. Think of it like a snuff film.”
Jin immediately understood what he meant.
They called it an ‘experience,’ but in reality, it was practically possession.
No need to look far—even in his own world, deepfake crimes ran rampant.
And now, if you added the ability to replicate not just sight but all senses and emotions…
Yeah.
No need for further explanation.
“My sibling was an editor making workplace safety training programs. Stuff like showing what happens to workers who don’t wear helmets at construction sites. And now, she’s being forced to make BH for a gang. She won’t last long.”
As the man spoke in a trembling voice,
Jin crossed his arms, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
Should he take the job or not?
By the sound of it, this meant going up against a gang.
If he handled this poorly, things could get messy.
As his hesitation dragged on,
The man, watching Jin’s expression, cautiously spoke up.
“I’ll pay you as much as I can.”
“…!”
Jin’s eyes widened.
Wait a second.
He hadn’t even asked the most important question.
Since this was his first job, Jin had no idea what his going rate should be.
So, he did a quick mental calculation.
Would 100,000 credits be enough?
No, wait.
In situations like this, you should start at 200,000 and then act like you’re willing to lower the price…
“Would 2 million credits be enough? In cash.”
Zap.
For a moment, the power in Jin’s brain flickered off.
After a brief blackout, his subconscious scrambled to reinstall logic and started running calculations at full speed.
A plate of meatball spaghetti cost 2,000 credits.
With 2 million, that was 1,000 plates.
If he ate three meals a day, he’d be set for 333 days.
And he’d still have 0.3 days’ worth left—enough to buy an extra waffle.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Before he knew it, Jin was gripping the man’s hands with both of his, shaking them up and down enthusiastically.
***
Gang, gangsters, gangsters.
To put it simply, the street mafia.
They might sound terrifying, but that’s not always the case.
In downtown, a gang is like a violent circle that forms the moment three thugs team up.
New ones pop up and disappear by the dozen every day.
Of course, some gangs were powerful enough to shake downtown to its core.
But fortunately, Steel Arms wasn’t in that league.
Judging by reputation alone, they were somewhere in the lower-middle tier—neither strong nor weak.
But that didn’t mean they could be ignored.
True to their name, every single member of Steel Arms had cybernetic arms, making them fearsome fighters.
Though to Jin, they were nothing more than lunatics who had willingly chopped off their perfectly fine arms just to replace them with steel ones.
Had they never heard of filial piety?
Did they have no respect for the body gifted to them by their parents?
Still, Jin wasn’t in a position to judge.
His body hadn’t been passed down by his parents.
It was merely a construct of stats, skills, and traits.
And so, gazing up at the night sky, Jin wondered—
If there was anyone in this twisted world who truly didn’t belong, wouldn’t it be him?
Of course, this body had its own origin, its own backstory.
But as far as Jin was concerned, he had woken up with his face buried in a gutter.
That was all.
He had no interest in his past, nor did he know anyone who did.
Like something that had simply fallen from the sky—
Jin had always been Jin.
Just like any character in a game.
Enough. That’s enough.
He had just gotten his mindset straight, and now he was spiraling again.
Focus.
This is your first job.
You’re a solo now.
Forcing himself to shake off the creeping existential dread, Jin lightly slapped his cheeks and picked up his pace.
His destination was a club.
[STEEL NIGHT]
Under the LED neon sign shaped like a pistol, flashing with a bullet engraved with the club’s name, a guard with crossed steel arms sized him up from head to toe.
“Hmm.”
A well-defined face, a tall frame.
An aviation jacket and jeans that suited him well.
A lower half that left quite the impression.
A man in his mid-20s.
More than enough to pass.
“…Go in.”
Jin nodded slightly and walked past the guard.
Ignoring the muttered, “Damn, he’s huge,” behind him, he pushed open the door.
A pounding bass hit his ears, and a long staircase leading underground came into view.
Steel Night.
A business operated by Steel Arms and their hideout.
The man who hired him had been desperate, repeating over and over again—
His sister had to be here.
Jenny, was it?
Jin repeated the kidnapped BH editor’s name in his mind as he descended the stairs.
At the same time, he turned his head, drawn by the deafening noise.
His ashen eyes captured the flashing lights and the crowd swaying beneath them.
“Oh.”
Jin let out a small exclamation.
The sight of bodies lost in euphoria, dancing under the lights, made it feel like an entirely different world.
Was it just me?
Was I the only one struggling to survive?
For a brief moment, Jin felt as though he had missed out on half of life.
Shaking off the thought, he made his way to the counter.
Taking out a crumpled bill from his pocket, he spread it out and spoke leisurely.
“The cheapest drink you’ve got.”
“…”
The bartender scooped up the credit with a look that said, What kind of broke bastard is this?
While waiting, Jin swiveled on his stool, turning his back to the counter.
One, two, three…
The club was spacious, but picking out the gang members wasn’t difficult.
All he had to do was look for guys who weren’t dancing—
And had cybernetic arms.
Eight in total.
One of them was guarding an entrance leading somewhere.
There.
As Jin confirmed his target, a sharp clink sounded behind him.
Turning his head, he saw a glass filled with ice and liquor.
And the bartender already walking away.
“Tsk.”
Jin shrugged and picked up his glass.
The cheap liquor he had sipped lightly slid down his throat, leaving behind a sharp warmth.
“…Should’ve just asked for a cola.”
Truth be told, Jin didn’t like alcohol.
It always left him feeling hungry the next day.
The temporary hypoglycemia from insulin secretion was an unpleasant sensation he had no desire to seek out, especially given his PTSD related to hunger.
With that, Jin quietly set his glass down.
He then stood up from his chair and started walking toward the restroom—more precisely, he placed a hand on his lower abdomen and trailed behind a gang member who had just passed by.
“Ugh. Did I eat something bad?”
The gang member hurriedly picked a stall and frantically unfastened his belt.
Meanwhile, Jin, who had just arrived at the restroom, took a quick look around.
In the silence, he noticed a man standing in front of the toilet, shivering slightly as he adjusted his belt.
“Phew… Man, I’m so drunk.”
Muttering to himself in a drunken stupor, the man staggered out of the restroom.
Jin locked the door behind him with a soft click.
He then approached the stall where the sound of fireworks was going off—no, the unmistakable noises of distress.
He reached for the doorknob.
Wait.
Why is this just opening?
Jin had fully intended to rip the door off its hinges, but it swung open effortlessly.
Inside, sitting on the toilet, was the gang member.
Jin scowled.
Between the man’s hairy, spread-out legs, his white underwear hung like a hammock.
Jin quickly averted his eyes in disgust.
At last, the gang member, still wearing a dumbfounded expression, realized what was happening and screamed.
“Hey! You son of a—! Close the damn—guhhkk!”
But Jin’s kick was faster.
His foot slammed into the man’s face, snapping his head back with a spray of blood.
“Sleep tight.”
Jin muttered as he shut the door.
At the same time, a subtle yet deep sense of fulfillment welled up within him.
“…That’s it.”
He clenched his fist.
Just as expected—only one left.
Jin had a plan.
Going up against an entire gang alone was no small feat.
No amount of money was worth his life, so he had only taken this job because he had a trump card.
Something like… leveling up.
Jin closed his eyes.
As he focused, his consciousness expanded, revealing a vast night sky.
Though his eyes were shut, constellations shimmered into view.
It all started with the first glimmer—a star shaped like a fist, named [Rapid Recovery].
Jin’s progress had left only one final point to connect.
A result of a year spent rolling, fighting, and struggling to complete this constellation.
After dealing with a gang of thugs yesterday and earning XP from a quest reward this morning, his skill proficiency was nearly maxed out.
Judging by his gut feeling, taking down one more guy would do it.
And now—
With the last gang member collapsing over the toilet, a single ray of light threaded through the nebula.
The dormant star ignited.
A new phrase emerged in Jin’s mind.
[Transcendent]
At last, the constellation was complete, shining brilliantly in his inner world.
He opened his eyes, feeling his body toughen and his senses sharpen like a honed blade.
“Let’s go.”
Cracking his neck from side to side, Jin stepped out of the restroom.
His gaze locked onto the gang member standing guard at the entrance.
He strode forward, fists slowly curling.
The pounding beat of the club reverberated wildly—as if foreshadowing the chaos about to unfold.