Chapter 17
Korea has a word called “sidegrade.”
To explain it as simply as possible, it’s a compound word made from the Hangul character ‘옆,’ meaning “side,” and the English word ‘UPGRADE,’ which originated in England. The Hangul character was created under the protection of King Sejong the Great, of course.
So, in what kind of situation would one use this peculiar word?
It’s used in a case like this.
[Master, please calm down.]
“Do I look like I can calm down right now!? What I need isn’t a doctor to worry about my health for me, but my real friend who used to stink!!”
[I do still smell to some extent.]
“……That part is good, though.”
A very awkward-looking golden retriever, with a head twice the size of an ordinary dog’s, nonchalantly shrugged its paws.
I’d heard that dogs could develop kneecap-related disorders as they grew up, so I wondered if that was why it looked like that.
But let’s remember what that customer just said.
- This isn’t an android!! Fuck, it doesn’t even have human rights. Why is a pet dog robot speaking like a person…? I told you over and over. Just, just fix the barking function properly!!
In other words, that dog wasn’t a real living creature.
It was a robot.
Actually, the word android includes the meaning “something that resembles a human.”
Therefore, all robots with human-level intelligence could be called androids.
They don’t necessarily have to be shaped like humans, either.
[Master. Calm down and take slow, measured breaths. Although an auxiliary computational device has been installed in my system, allowing me to communicate my thoughts through more efficient means, I am still the same close friend of yours I was before.]
“……Max.”
Moisture welled up in the bearded man’s eyes.
Anyone could have a fondness for animals.
Even if the object of that affection was an artificial life-form made of wires and steel.
Their friendship had not lost its luster.
Perhaps Max’s heartfelt voice had gotten through.
(Though its pronunciation was pointlessly good, making it sound a little uncanny-valley-like.)
The customer let go of Walter’s collar.
“Yeah, Max. No matter how your appearance changes, no matter how creepy your voice sounds. You’re my friend…!”
It would have been nice if the story had ended neatly in that heartwarming atmosphere.
Crackle-.
A sound like popcorn popping came from the dog.
Sparks rose amid black smoke.
“…M-Max?”
[I am your master’s, your master’s, your master’s friend, family, subordinate, faithful
servant, slave, and the oldest one born to accept his glory
…
.]
Oh, that thing broke.
Walter quickly pulled down the goggles perched on his forehead.
“Emergency!!”
I watched the chaotic scene unfold.
Then I quietly turned my head and looked at Rivera.
This was the third time I had asked.
“…You definitely said this was the right place, didn’t you?”
“……Yes.”
I had very little faith in that.
* * *
In the end, (the fucking psychopath machine freak) Walter restored the customer’s dog.
He must have had some skill, because even the dog robot that looked like it was about to be possessed by a Cthulhu monster returned to normal in an instant.
“Kaaaagh, ptooey! Fuck, just watch me never come back here again!!”
[Woof-woof.]
Its barking had become incredibly bleak, and its fluffy fur had turned into gleaming chrome—a bald, shiny head.
At least it did walk out on four legs, anyway.
“Yes, yes, come again.”
Walter casually waved his hand while wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Judging by his unflappable appearance, this clearly wasn’t a rare occurrence.
“Now, customers. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
The chair he had been sitting in spun around.
At the same time, his eyeballs spun around, too.
It was like watching the professor called Mad-Eye in some wizard movie.
“No beggars, no product subscriptions, no sex-toy sales pitches, but I do accept all repairs─ hmm?”
Walter tilted his head as he looked at Rivera.
I had been wondering why Rivera had brought me to this shop, but judging by his reaction, the two of them seemed to be at least somewhat acquainted.
“Oh, long time no see. At a glance, you don’t look like you came to get something repaired, and you don’t seem to be here to sell scrap metal, either. Did you happen to find an android in good condition at the junkyard?”
Walter’s gaze stopped on me.
Android, huh.
Hmm, should I take him for a very open-minded person?
- Is one of your parents a robot?
- No.
A conversation like that suddenly flashed through my mind.
Rivera answered Walter’s question.
“An android, my ass. We came to buy something proper today. …Yes, sir.”
Walter’s eyebrows twisted into a frown at the awkward formal speech that came out of Rivera’s mouth.
“…Why are you suddenly speaking politely? Did you eat something weird off the floor? Treating a malware-infected chipset is a little beyond me.”
“…Tch, aren’t you going to take customers?”
“Of course I am. Heh heh.”
When Rivera took a step back, Walter’s gaze returned to me.
“Looks like I’m the one you came to see. What are you looking for? You can assume I have everything except whatever I don’t have.”
I couldn’t immediately answer Walter’s question.
Watching Walter and Rivera bicker as though they were familiar with each other had brought a strange imagination to mind.
For this little kid to survive in a city overflowing with rain, dust, violence, and looting…
Just how much hardship must they have gone through?
Perhaps the two of them had a relationship roughly like this.
- My family is starving…. Please, just buy this scrap metal from me.
- Hmm. I’d like to say no, but I have a daughter your age, so I can’t just ignore you. Fine. I’ll buy that useless scrap metal, but bring me a customer next time instead.
- …Thank you!
End of imagination.
I rubbed my slightly reddened eyes and spoke to Walter, who clearly had a good nature despite not being right in the head.
“Yes, we’ve come to buy something.”
“Mm, you’re welcome here.”
“How is your daughter doing?”
“……I’m single.”
Whoops.
But I lightly ignored that minor setting error and continued speaking.
“I’ve come to buy a terminal.”
“What kind of terminal? There are lots of different types.”
Walter pulled a strange hat, wrinkled like a brain, out from beneath the counter.
It looked roughly like a fusion of muscle and brain that had shriveled up.
“How about this? It just came in. It’s cybernetic smart wear that can be used as an auxiliary computational device. It’s pretty useful for exploring the cyberweb or hacking, too.”
“…Isn’t that the cybernetic body the dog that just left was using?”
“Eh, as long as it works properly.”
It didn’t seem to have worked properly, either.
It had even caught fire once.
I briefly imagined myself equipping that cybernetic body in my helmet slot.
At minimum, I’d become Jimmy Neutron, or maybe a gold-farming character from MapleStory, famous for its maple leaves.
I quickly declined.
“If possible, do you have a handheld terminal rather than a cybernetic body?”
“…And not something like a smart chip?”
“Yes.”
Walter’s pupils spun around once again in a bizarre motion.
“Hmm, now that I look at you. You don’t smell of oil at all. You’re completely clean.”
Sssnniff, he even drew in a breath.
“A purist….”
He clicked his tongue briefly.
“Tch, so you’re a customer who doesn’t make me any money.”
“…Can you say that in front of a customer?”
“What’s the big deal? It’s my shop.”
Walter took a bulky ‘mechanical arm’ from a shelf piled high with goods.
It looked like something Captain Hook could put on right now without seeming out of place.
“Here, a terminal you can use with your hands.”
“……”
“Can’t even make a joke around here.”
Then he pulled a display-style terminal out from the back.
This time, it was a device that looked genuinely similar to a smartphone.
“You want something roughly like this, right?”
“Oh, exactly.”
I stared at the terminal in Walter’s hand.
A smooth body and clean design.
It was slightly thick, but I liked it even more because it looked sturdy.
I didn’t think the weight would bother me much, anyway.
‘Galaxy? iPhone?’
None of that mattered.
At last, I would have a new smartphone made with the astonishing technology of a cyberpunk world….
“It’s a product from a company that went under after losing a corporate war, so there won’t be any after-sales service, but I doubt you expected that in this neighborhood anyway.”
“Well, that’s true.”
It suddenly looked a little pathetic.
It was a discontinued product.
I was a little crestfallen, but anyway.
Like a human receiving fire from Prometheus, I carefully extended both hands.
Now I could finally use the internet….
“$1,200.”
“…Huh?”
I froze once more.
I didn’t know the exchange rate here very well, but this wasn’t a world ruled by America’s forty-fifth and forty-seventh presidents, either.
For a discontinued old terminal, it sounded quite expensive.
‘…$1,200?’
The hotdogs sold at our grocery store cost about two dollars each.
That was the price of six hundred hotdogs.
At thirty hotdogs a day, it was enough money to last me twenty days.
“……”
Putting it that way, I did seem to be eating a little too much these days.
Anyway.
Perhaps I wasn’t the only one thinking that, because Rivera, who had been standing quietly behind me, stepped forward.
“No way. Are you kidding me? With that money, I could buy a perfectly good smart chip and pay to have it implanted.”
“Weren’t you speaking politely a moment ago?”
“…Yes, sir.”
Rivera’s spirit was slightly dampened, but the twin flames in her eyes had not gone out.
Walter paused for a moment at the sight of her.
“No, seriously, this is a good item. Look, look. See here? The battery can be detached and reattached.”
That was some lost technology.
Walter disassembled the battery, then pointed to a button covered by a safety cap.
“?”
Why did the battery have a button…?
“When danger comes, you take the battery out like this, press the button, and throw it at the enemy….”
“Throw it?”
“It explodes. It isn’t quite as powerful as a high-explosive shell, but it’s enough to kill someone who lets their guard down.”
Walter naturally raised his thumb.
“What that means is, it’s a revolutionary terminal that can be used for self-defense….”
“And I have to buy the batteries I throw again?”
“Of course.”
Was he kidding me?
No, in the first place, who carries a bomb around in their pocket?
“Hmm…. Still, I can’t pay more than $400. …sir.”
Yet that strange selling point seemed to appeal to Rivera.
Was Rivera at the age where she liked bombs….
“What do you mean, knocking off more than half? $1,000.”
“We’d have to keep buying batteries as consumables, so we’d have to cover the maintenance costs. You need to lower it at least a little.”
“Batteries don’t cost much anyway. …But I can lower it to $800 on the condition that you buy all your batteries from my store.”
“It was an old terminal anyway, so it must have been dead stock. If we need a weapon, we’ll go to a gun shop.”
“Aw, fine. I give up. $500. At that price, I’m genuinely selling it for what I paid.”
The two of them quickly ended their conversation and looked at me.
I realized that I had underestimated the cyberpunk world.
Who on earth uses a smartphone as an explosive…?
But as I’d said before, in a one-eyed world, the person with two eyes is the abnormal one.
I held up the banknotes I had secretly taken from the grocery store counter.
“Could I pay in installments…?”
“That would put me in a difficult position, customer.”
“……”
I was joking, too.
* * *
After a classic ringtone rang about three times.
Click.
Along with the sound of the call connecting, a flat voice came from the other end of the terminal.
[Identity and purpose.]
The tone was as cold as a north wind and driving snow.
Cold enough to make me speak carefully without realizing it.
“…Um, boss. It’s me. You know, Abel Anderson. The employee you picked up from the junkyard.”
The ice-cold tone melted in an instant.
Soon, Christine’s voice, just as I remembered it, flowed out like an exclamation.
[……Ah.]