A very hot heat rises from the hot dog.
The juices of its bursting main ingredient.
The sweet-and-sour ketchup and mustard of capitalism.
The crisp vegetables of unknown origin.
And the soft, comforting texture of the bun wrapping it all up.
‘Absolutely perfect.’
The harmony of carbohydrates, fat, and protein.
“Mmm….”
One could say that hot dogs were the most reasonable food in the world.
Damn, this thing is actually delicious once you get into it.
After I gave it a quick warm-up in the microwave inside the grocery store, the category of food known as the hot dog had taken another step toward perfection.
Hamburgers?
They were nothing more than hot dog imitations.
Anyway.
After polishing off about ten hot dogs,
“He sure eats like he means it….”
“Couldn’t you give me just one of the leftovers?”
“That guy’s the real deal. He’s not just eating the hot dogs—he’s putting fried food or chicken breast on top of the sausages, too. …I’m a little beyond my limit there.”
Several homeless people stared at the hot dogs I was eating and drooled greedily.
How utterly outrageous….
When I flashed my eyes and glared at them fiercely, they all smacked their lips and swallowed sandwiches and the like instead.
“Don’t be so rough on them.”
The self-proclaimed young homeless man who had made a large trash can his home—someone who introduced himself as Michael—spoke to the other homeless people.
“You can at least spare Hotdog Man a few hot dogs, right? He even went out of his way to throw away warmed-up products for us.”
“That’s true.”
It was difficult to eat products like frozen chicken while they were still cold.
I had only warmed the food in the microwave because I felt sorry watching them gnaw on hard food, but in the process, a homeless man even appeared and shed tears of gratitude.
“Sob, Hotdog Man….”
“…How long has it been since I last ate warm food?”
From my perspective, I had merely run the products through the microwave once and handed them out instead of throwing them into the trash can, where they had to go anyway.
But seeing ‘THE American Cyberpunk Homeless,’ covered in tattoos or scars from head to toe, or sporting filthy beards that hung all the way to their chests, staring up at me with wide, sparkling eyes like enormous dogs….
Smack!
Michael clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention toward him.
“Now, I’m only saying this just in case.”
“What are you going to say this time?”
Wild animals that are full normally don’t show aggressive temperaments.
Unlike people who stole, robbed, or survived each day in trash cans, they all quietly listened to Michael.
“Listen carefully. Our friend Hotdog Man took an enormous risk to help us.”
I really wish he would stop calling me Hotdog Man.
“As everyone knows, in Risk City, the rules set by the top ten corporations often carry more weight than the city laws that exist only in name.”
City laws? The top ten corporations?
Words I didn’t know came flying at me one after another, but
Michael continued speaking without stopping, since no one could notice the question mark floating above my head.
“That doesn’t mean city laws aren’t followed at all. For example, the fact that security gets better as a district’s number gets closer to one is also related to the public safety laws stipulated by the city laws.”
Oh, so there was something like that.
While I nodded to myself,
the other homeless people listened to Michael without much reaction, apparently already knowing all of that.
“Of course, everyone here must have drifted all the way down to this bottom because of their own circumstances. Let’s stop there with what everyone already knows.”
Teacher, I still don’t know.
Because I had been baited by a clickbait post with a busty thumbnail instead of a strategy post before starting the game, I knew absolutely nothing about the basic background.
What did I know?
Only the dazzling explosions of light from the game trailer.
Wow! Mana circuits! Tactical cybernetics! Genetically modified monsters!
Even so, it was difficult to awkwardly raise my hand and ask questions in such a serious atmosphere.
I simply munched on hot dogs and listened to whatever Michael was saying.
“Now, the important point here is the rules set by the top ten corporations I mentioned earlier. The skyscrapers of Risk City, connected to everything from military supplies, medicine, transportation, education, manufacturing, and communications.”
“So what are you trying to say?”
Another homeless man spat out exactly what I wanted to say.
So what’s the conclusion?
If possible, give us the three-line summary.
Three lines had already passed, of course.
Michael shrugged without being flustered by the homeless man’s raised voice.
“What we need to be careful of is the rules of the food corporation cartel. As you all know, places like Mc&Ham, Coil Foods, and Soma Company.”
As I listened to Michael, I checked the bag that had held the hot dogs.
『
Manufacturer and distributor: Mc&Ham Corporation
』
I see.
Michael, who had seen me checking the bag, pointed at me.
Naturally, all the homeless people’s eyes turned toward me.
“Our Hotdog Man surely knew all of that before doing this.”
“?”
What was I supposed to know?
I had only thrown them away because they asked me to throw them to them instead of into the trash can.
“According to city law and the rules set by corporations, ownership of expired products basically transfers from the seller to another entity under the city’s or the corporation’s name.”
“Wow, that’s the first I’ve heard of that.”
I sympathized with the voice of someone muttering.
Me too.
“Corporations don’t separately retrieve the products, so it’s a law that exists only in name. As long as the seller throws the discarded products into a trash can and returns them to the city, there’s ultimately no problem.”
…Wait a second.
“If someone here reported our Hotdog Man, there could be legal trouble. The corporation could sue or press charges. Even if it wasn’t directly related to a food corporation, if someone reported that they got sick from eating donated food in hopes of claiming a reward, a specialist corporate task force could come tomorrow, burn down the grocery store, and take Hotdog Man away.”
Michael’s throat seemed a little dry, so he cleared it softly before finishing.
…There’s a reason other stores don’t hand out their discarded food.
Under normal circumstances, I would have thought of a joke like, ‘What is this? Is this guy some kind of scholar? I got a level-two CSAT score myself, so I might be able to compete with him.’
But I had never imagined I’d face a physical crisis just because I failed to dispose of expired products properly.
Murmur, murmur.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t known.
The other homeless people were all looking at one another with serious expressions.
Smack!
Michael clapped once again, gathering the homeless people’s attention.
“As everyone knows, you can never know what’s in someone’s heart. If there are a hundred people, there are bound to be a hundred different lives.”
“Fuck, yeah. If I hadn’t been betrayed by my partner in District 23….”
“Right. Someone with a different idea could be mixed in among us.”
The atmosphere grew more and more heated.
More serious and more cautious.
“So what we have to do is simple.”
What the hell had this guy done before becoming homeless?
“For tomorrow’s food, for our peace, and to protect Hotdog Man.”
I never said I’d hand out food tomorrow, though.
Among the homeless people, daily food distribution already seemed to have taken root as a regular event.
“Hotdog Man didn’t hand out expired food to us. He simply threw hot garbage that had been warmed up into the trash can.”
“Oh, right. Then all that happened was that we picked it up and ate it.”
Michael bit into a sandwich that had gone cold in the wind.
“And we stand united.”
Everyone raised the expired food they were holding over their heads.
I was the only one standing there blankly, simply watching them.
“Hotdog Man took that risk and helped us, people who have nothing. Do you understand now? The process of that action, its result, its noble spirit of sacrifice!”
“No, I didn’t think of it that way—”
“The name of the prophet who helped us!!”
Will you people listen to me?
The homeless people’s eyes were tinged with madness.
As strange as it might sound to put it that way, they looked somewhat like people gazing upon a saint who had been sacrificed for religious purposes.
It was starting to genuinely frighten me.
““Hotdog Man! Hotdog Man! Hotdog Man!””
Should I wave at them or something….
As I was on the verge of being crowned the honorary mayor of Area 49 thanks to the homeless people’s overwhelming support,
a bizarre sound suddenly rang out in my head.
【You have attracted the attention of the Bogus Gang!】
【The probability of a special random encounter occurring has increased!】
What, gus?
My brow furrowed on its own.
【Random Encounter Occurred!】
Before I could even understand what was happening.
“…Why are there so many homeless people here?”
“Ugh, what a smell. Spit.”
“What are you looking at? Keep your eyes down!”
A gang of thugs with broad shoulders came walking over from the opposite side of the empty lot.
Some of them were the thugs I had met last time, and after spending several days in this world, I understood.
The homeless people were merely passing outsiders, while those men were the true residents of this district.
As I had expected, the homeless people nearby suddenly began backing away as they looked at the thugs who had appeared out of nowhere.
‘Let’s sort out the situation.’
I couldn’t tell whether they were the Bogus Gang or the Burgers Gang because I hadn’t heard it properly.
But it was clear that these newly arrived men were connected to that gang.
They had specifically called it a ‘special random encounter,’ unlike usual.
They ignored the homeless people around them and stopped in front of me.
Thick muscles and trapezius muscles shaped like triangles.
One of them was even wearing a mechanical cybernetic limb with no skin, as if he wanted to make it obvious that he came from a cyberpunk world. I wondered how he managed daily life with that Lego-shaped hand.
What was he, Captain Hook?
Anyway, they didn’t look like ordinary civilians.
“Were you the one who gave food to that crazy brat?”
“…Crazy brat?”
How could anyone’s name be Crazy Brat?
Just as I was wondering about that,
“You know, the brat who’s often seen around this neighborhood. The one with pitch-black hair who covers their face. We already know everything and came here, so just answer my question.”
I knew who the kid they were talking about was.
What on earth did they get up to?
Were they being chased by a gang or something?
I casually nodded.
“Probably?”
“Ha, figures. I don’t know what organization you belong to, but you’re screwed now. No, maybe you were meant to be discarded from the start. Kinda pathetic.”
What organization?
The gang pulled a handgun from inside a coat and aimed it at me after hearing my answer.
“Our boss said to leave you a warning. I think a corpse full of bullet holes should get the message across.”
There were three of them in total.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous.
The muscles in my body naturally relaxed.
First, I’d get rid of all the handguns….
“?”
But before my body could spring into action,
“What the hell are you doing!!”
“Ha, you filthy homeless bastards. You’re the ones raising your voices at—”
The gang’s faces filled with panic.
“…Huh?”
A wall of dozens of homeless people was pressing in on them.
“How dare you point a gun at our Hotdog Man?!”
The homeless people appeared from somewhere holding metal pipes and the like, then attacked the thugs all at once.
Clang!!
The refreshing sound of a skull cracking.
I got to see with my own eyes exactly what it meant to get beaten so badly that dust flew on a rainy day.
If I were to crudely express the sound in writing, it would be something like ‘Thud-ka-thunk, rattle-rattle-rattle.’
It wasn’t actually raining, but the impact was just as lively and satisfying.
‘Hmm….’
A little while later.
The gang lay huddled together like Yamcha after being killed by a Saibaman.
Michael, now holding a club in one hand, stepped forward like the homeless people’s representative and looked at me.
“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure no one around here can lay a finger on Hotdog—Man.”
“…….”
“Just trust us.”
Then came another lively voice.
【The probability of a special random encounter occurring has increased!】
I wiped a hand over my face.
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Title: Having a corporate-born support NPC makes things a little easier
Michael seems pretty usable from the beginning, aside from being a male character.
His performance is better than I expected. Maybe that’s because he’s someone you can obtain through a time-limited event.
─ Where did you meet him?
└ (Author) Area 49 ㄱ
└ He’s good in every way, but he also has linked triggers for weird side quests, so he suddenly goes off on his own.
└ (Author) So what?
└ I took a side quest to smash a cult, and he suddenly decided to infiltrate the place by himself. When I checked later, he had naturally taken up a position among the executives.
└ (Author) LOLㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
───────────────
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