Chapter 6
#006
1.
Until now, I'd been too busy standing there and going “uhh, what?”
I'd been dumped in Necropolis overnight and kept muttering, “Is this really abandonment?”
But once the injured Arbel joined me, the situation became clear.
The Count House of Montrevan had been attacked.
No rescue was coming if I just sat around and waited.
This rotten swamp of a city would swallow me all the way down into the muck.
“Absolutely not.”
I'd survive by any means necessary.
I'd return to the Ark City.
I'd get back the 200 million Bios I'd left on deposit at the casino, and return to my otherworld life soaked in pleasure and indulgence.
What do you think I am?
A man who stood back up after twelve liquidations and made 80 billion.
A man who, three days after liquidating his life, came back to life in another world like a goddamn dog.
The only things that could stop me were the Fed chair and the U.S. president's Twitter.
Neither of them exist in this other world, so it's safe to say there's nobody who can stand against me.
Anyway.
“Should I head out now?”
I stretched out my back, stiff from sleeping on the bare floor, and pulled on my cloak.
Today was my first day on the job at the fixer office Paul, the city hall employee, had connected me with.
On the filthy bed, Arbel was sleeping quietly under a tarpaulin and rag blanket.
Arbel looked like a doll when sleeping soundly like that.
Well, even if it's just baggage for now.
A first-tier mage who'll one day become the bankroll for my debauched life.
Still, she is a bit of a handful.
“Arbel, you know this won't cut it as a bunny-girl outfit, right?”
At the very least, she'd need a reverse bunny-girl outfit.
2.
The fixer office “Big Dick” felt more like a manpower agency than a fixer office.
The room air was thick with stale male sweat and cigarette smoke.
There wasn't a shred of professionalism or seasoned polish to be found in that shabby office.
“Good morning!!!! Rookie! James Bond! I'm here to pay my respects to the big brothers who rule Necropolis!!!!”
I made a strong first impression by booming out a greeting the moment I walked in.
“Yeah, James. Welcome to Big Dick. I'm Ron, the foreman of the Big Dick office.”
“I'm Rank 8 Big, and that guy's Dick. He's Rank 8 too.”
“Rank 8...! Hic, even a punk like me could become a proper fixer like you guys someday, right?”
“Of course! We'll pave the way for you, James. All you have to do is follow us with faith.”
Big and Dick thumped my shoulder with hearty laughter.
What a shitty name.
On the other hand, my alias was utterly cool.
James Bond.
The great special elite agent of Britain.
I've always liked Britain.
Gentlemen, aristocrats, and the country that gave the world the most Independence Days.
It's also the homeland of Nietzsche, my favorite philosopher.
“Then why do you have a surname when you're a commoner?”
“It's not my real name! I took it from someone I admire! May I ask permission to change my name to James Big Dick?”
“Bwahaha! Nah, nah, drop it. That'd get confusing. Anyway, you landed a really great opportunity, kid. Learn this job once and you won't starve to death before you die of old age.”
“Guh! A lifelong job! This is definitely what a professional trade is like!”
I'm pretty good at blending naturally into labor sites.
There was nothing better for wasting seed money and keeping food on the table while I saved up.
It was simple.
All I had to do was speak loudly and spiritedly, flatter people at the right times, and jump to it whenever I saw my chance.
My coquettish ace routine quickly warmed the mood.
“Junior, you got gear?”
“Nope!”
“Big, get the junior some gear.”
“Yes, sir, boss. Junior, wait just a sec.”
“I'll do it!”
“Relax, relax. Do you even know where anything is?”
Big hefted his huge body over to the cabinet in the office corner and rummaged through it.
What he pulled out was a hand axe the size of a forearm and a belt for hanging odds and ends from your pockets.
“The last guy left it behind when he died. Junior, use it now.”
Big skillfully fastened the belt and attached the axe in its leather case.
“Boss...! A gift this touching...”
“Don't embarrass me. It's nothing.”
A beginner fixer starter set, huh.
Every piece looked used, like something issued at boot camp, but for a broke guy like me, it was heaven-sent.
No, even if they introduced me through a referral, aren't they being a little too nice to me for a first meeting?
Is this the sticky bond of the underclass?
Sorry I thought the name was shitty earlier!
“Ah, and I almost forgot the most important thing.”
Grinning, Big draped a coat over my shoulders.
It was a long coat that fell all the way to my ankles, and because it was matte leather, it felt pretty heavy.
It's awful for mobility, but there's just one thing.
It looks ridiculously cool.
“Damn, maybe it's because our junior has such a good face. The fit is fire!”
“If you're a fixer, you've gotta wear a long coat! You could head straight into the field!”
So long coats are the rule in Necropolis, huh.
Is it like how you have to eat a Let's Be and Full Moon bread on a construction site to be recognized as a true laborer?
“So, are we going to start smashing monsters now?”
I asked while rubbing the handle of the hand axe.
I'd already steeled myself for going into the so-called Rift and fighting monsters to the death, but just having a weapon in hand made me feel fairly reassured.
“As expected, that's a man's spirit! But it's our junior's first day, right? Even if you were introduced, we still have to verify you.”
“Verify me?”
“Don't be too disappointed. We're putting our own necks on the line too. You've got nothing to be scared of. We'll take the safest, easiest job we can find.”
“I'm not disappointed at all! But is there really such a thing as a safe and easy job? That's a sweet deal.”
“That's what you call a ‘back request.’ Think of it as one of the perks of opening an office. Let's see...”
The foreman, rummaging through a messy stack of documents, curled one side of his mouth up.
“Yeah, this one's perfect!”
A back request....
Now I'm kind of curious.
It's common sense that anything gets better if you stick “back” in front of it.
There are countless examples.
A reliable backer, commission-free under-the-table deals, clean and trouble-free hush money.
What else was there? A cool-beauty babe's secret account?
2.
We moved from B Sector, where the office was, to D Sector—more specifically, to D-9 District deep inside it.
Unlike central Necropolis, where proper main roads ran through, the moment we pushed into the narrow alleys packed with buildings, the route became complicated in an instant.
Buildings twisted together like a massive organism.
Planks connected the irregularly scattered iron stairways and railings.
Bricks soaked in green smog glowed with an oily rainbow sheen under the mercury lights.
“Is this really okay?”
“Okay how?”
“If a fire breaks out, wouldn't we all die in one go?”
“Humans die anyway.”
Damn it! I'd screwed up.
I still didn't have enough of the Necropolis mindset.
“This starts D-9 District. It used to be a decent residential area, but a few months ago Twilight Resource Development bought it and eviction orders went out.”
“Ah, so that's why there's nobody here. Damn, boss, you really do know everything.”
I answered cheerfully, but my spine felt a little cold.
Can I really say there's no purpose behind their kindness up to now?
Dragging me to some place with few people all of a sudden, it had to feel suspicious.
Still, if that were the case, then there'd be no need to hand me even a minimum weapon.
I was only betting that if I didn't take risks, I'd be stuck in place forever.
“Don't be too tense. It's really nothing.”
“So, could you at least tell me what this back request is...”
-Clunk!
A sudden rustle came from one side of the alley.
I was the only one who flinched and put a hand on my weapon.
“Hey, perfect timing.”
The other three were perfectly relaxed.
What is it, what is it! What the hell is that thing!
“Junior! Let's go after him!”
“Yessir!”
Fuck it, I don't know.
If they say run, run. Don't argue, just move.
“Our junior runs well!”
“Don't lose him! He's our request!”
At first, the fugitive was using the terrain well to get away, but he lacked basic stamina.
Before long, he was gasping violently and rolled onto the ground.
Only then could I get a good look at him.
He was a scruffy homeless man in trashy clothes.
Hm.
He's the filthiest homeless man I've ever seen.
“Y-you fucking bastards! Why the hell are you doing this to me!”
He sprang to his feet and screamed.
His eyes were glossy with fear and hatred.
In his hand, a rusty dagger was glinting.
“Heh heh, this one's got some bite, huh?”
“Nice! These days the vagrants are too timid. They're no fun to hit.”
“Hey, hey, put the weapons away. He's junior's. Junior, you warmed up?”
The trio who arrived behind me snickered.
That's the prey?
“Isn't that just a homeless guy?”
“That's right. He's a vagrant who's still hanging around even after the eviction order. A company like Twilight Resource Development can't really be seen hauling them out one by one itself, right? So they subcontract it as a back request.”
The true nature of the back request was revealed.
In short, it was a human cleanup crew.
The homeless man shouted as if he'd been wronged.
“F-fuck... I was living here in the first place! Where am I supposed to stay if you kick me out of here!”
“Then get yourself a house! Do you think everyone else is an idiot paying rent every month?”
“Just pretend you didn't see me once, you motherfuckers!”
“Tch, if it were just us, maybe we would. But you're our junior's test dummy.”
Ah, now I get it.
I really get it now.
“Alright, junior! Your turn. I'll lend you the axe for a sec. You can handle that much bare-handed, right?”
“Junior, cheer up! We're checking your skills! Don't just kill him; you've gotta show us as much as possible. Got it?”
I see what kind of world this is.
I lightly bounced on my toes.
Cedric's body really was exceptional.
A light, fast frame. Even the ridiculously heavy leather coat didn't hinder me at all.
“You, you come any closer... I'll just slice open your belly with this... Gaaah!”
The coat hem fluttered like a heavy flag.
I stretched out my lead hand, avoiding the clumsily swung knife.
-Thwack!
Just a light jab, but with a crack the homeless man's body reeled hard.
Losing his balance, I easily slipped past the knife he flailed around desperately.
-Thwack!
Then came a rear-hand straight, my weight behind it, into his face.
“Kaaah!”
A perfectly clean takedown.
The homeless man dropped the dagger and rolled around pathetically.
“Whoa! Junior!”
I could feel surprise from behind me.
Come to think of it, even if they're Rank 8, they probably don't even have mana circuits, and at best are just Rank 9 with a bit of experience.
To them, the modern science of how to beat people up would look like magic.
“Hic, hic....”
Blood poured from the homeless man's nose like a faucet had been turned on.
With that amount of bleeding, his nasal bone was definitely shattered.
“Ugh! Ugh! P-please... spare me... please...!”
He looked up at me with eyes soaked in fear.
“Tsk, maybe we should sell him to a brothel instead of killing him. Those moans... aren't normal.”
“Hey, you fucking bastard. Cut the filthy talk.”
“Ahaha, just kidding, boss.”
“Junior, finish it. Turn him into minced meat!”
“No! No!!!! Please! Please!”
Under the flickering mercury lamps, the screams and laughter echoed dully.
“…….”
Silently pulling the teeth lodged in my fist free, I asked myself.
Just moments ago, they'd been trading rough jokes.
Were the three men who had taken in a stranger and called him junior the good guys?
Were the three men who snickered while laughing at the final cries of a powerless weakling the bad guys?
Then.
What about the homeless man, whose nose had been caved in with one hit and who was begging for his life?
What about me, who was about to beat a person to death for a test?
No, it's meaningless.
A question that means nothing at all.
Then what is meaningful?
I'll pass this test with a perfect score.
I won't leave behind the label of a weak bastard who pities a rat.
The people at the Big Dick office will recognize me as one of their own, and then I will.
be one step closer to 200 million Bios and Arbel in a reverse bunny-girl outfit.
“Boss, hand me the axe! I'll finish this cleanly!”
“Why? You're not gonna use your fists? Don't want the satisfaction?”
“Look at this! My fist's bleeding because of that bastard's teeth! I'm scared it'll catch something!”
“Bwahaha! We can't have our junior catching a disease! Wash it down with booze later at the company dinner!”
What kind of world am I going to have to live in from now on?
As long as I don't forget that, it's enough.
At the very least, I.
Won't stand on the side that gets eaten.
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::: Challenges (NEW!) :::
- First kill +1pt
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