A mercenary’s career rarely lasts beyond ten years.That’s partly because the work is dangerous, but also because it’s hard to earn decent pay without risking injury.Regions swarming with beasts or anomalies pay hundreds or thousands of dil per contract, whether for exploration or escort—whereas relatively safe, peaceful areas offer meager wages even after days of work.Inept mercenaries naturally fall by the wayside, and no matter how veteran you are, the moment you suffer a crippling injury you can’t return to the same contracts.So seasoned pros like Jackal are rare. Even his squad sees steady turnover.Of all the mercenaries I met when I first started, I’ve seen none still on the front lines today. Some must’ve died; the rest likely traded jobs because of injuries, fading stamina, and the like.‘Cheon Jong-gil 34-248…’I inhaled the cool morning air as I trudged down the filthy street. Trash lay scattered throughout the slums—discarded without care, but there’s no one to clean it up.“Ugh. Stepped on something gross.”“Scrape it on the ground.”Joo-o, brim of his cap pulled low, ground his boot sole against the pavement. When I stopped and waited, he hurried to close the gap between us.We were on our way to the home of a retired mercenary—more precisely, the one whose whereabouts we had. Even I didn’t go solo on missions when I first started out—so I never expected to run into someone from my early days.“His name’s Banya, right?”“Yeah. Probably not his real name, though.”Banya had come here from another city. Rumor had it he ran off one night to escape debts back home. Even in an age when national borders blur, cities still tended to cluster similar peoples—and his high-saturation red hair and green eyes betrayed zero Goryeo City blood. Many in Goryeo City had non-black hair or eyes, but someone that striking was rare.“Still, Banya’s living better than we are.”“You call this better?”You might think there’s no good part of the slum, but even within it there were tiers. Cheon Jong-gil was marginally better than Starlight Avenue—no criminals prowled in broad daylight, and the buildings looked roughly habitable.Beep-!I pressed the patched-up doorbell; its tinny chime rang out. Heavy footsteps approached, and with a click the latch slid back and the door cracked open.Through the gap I saw a middle-aged man clenching a smoking glass stick between his lips. The red stubble on his chin made him look at least a decade older than he was.“What.”He eyed me with disgust. When I shoved my hands in my pockets, Joo-o waved awkwardly behind me—and as if on cue, the door banged shut, then reopened without a security lock.“Seriously… aren’t you Jin Muhae?”“I am.”“Don’t butt in. Long time no see.”I pulled a small box from my pocket—‘Kodephil’ in red lettering—and showed it to him. He glanced around, then stepped back. No need to invite me in; a true soldier would’ve let me through. I tossed the box into his hands and strode inside with Joo-o trailing behind.“Weird timing. What brings a celebrity here?”“You like famous people.”“No, seriously. You’re not exactly known for helping deadbeats.”“If people knew you talked like that, they’d think you had no manners.”I’d simply never made friends among mercenaries. After making sure Joo-o removed his boots, I marched into Banya’s living room.“I came with a question.”“A question? From you? To me?”His face grew sourer by the minute. He’d clearly never dealt with anyone this way. Since he’d gotten good, I always worked alone—never answered provocations, always brushed off offers to team up. Naturally I hadn’t spent my retirement chasing ex-mercenary nobodies. It’d been nearly five years since I’d seen Banya.“You’re making ends meet, huh? Is that surround-sound speaker? Looks expensive.”“I quit dangerous work so I’d better stay alive. Besides, it pays okay.”He waved at the air with flourish. Like ex-soldiers who can’t cut it anymore, he’d apparently taken a job mixing illegal drugs.“Oh. Shouldn’t say that in front of a model citizen?”“Don’t spout bullshit.”My calm face flickered in annoyance. Hearing Joo-o call him a “model citizen” was irritating enough—now everyone was doing it. By the time I tracked him down, I’d asked plenty of people. Hands of Goryeo City’s lowest rung had held how many dil for him? The consensus: Banya was the most promising lead. A former comrade in arms had tipped me off: before Solar City fell, Banya lived there.“You were from Solar City, right?”He tensed at the direct question. I tossed him another glass stick; he dropped his own and snatched it up.“Uh… it’s complicated. But yeah, I stayed there a while.”“I heard you bailed the moment it collapsed—hired a flyer when no one else would even go near it.”“It was a gold mine. You know how it is: wherever people die, there’s always something to scavenge.”Few living knew that. I’d round him up too. He shrugged off my lame mercenary joke. His bear-like face snarled when he smirked—his scar-marred skin so pale it looked ashen.“I’m looking for a researcher. Supposedly from Solar City.”“A researcher? How would I know them?”“You said you lived there.”“You know how many people lived there?”He shoved the sticks under the sofa and rolled his finger beside his head in mock insanity—how could a drifter know any researchers?“I’m not {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} asking you to find the researcher. Just if you know anyone who left that place.”“Why would I? Like I said, I stayed, not lived, there.”“Where’d you rack up your debts?”“Solar… City? Fuck. Did I ever mention to you that I owe money?”He clutched his forehead in exasperation—apparently he never expected his drunken ramblings to come back years later. Joo-o handed him another stick; with eyes of resignation, Banya accepted it.“If you owe so much you can’t pay back, that means someone lent you a lot. You weren’t living like this there, were you?”“…You’re sharp. For a mercenary, you’re pretty smart. Must be from being ‘model citizen,’ right?”“Cut the crap. What did he do?”“Kid—if you dig into people’s pasts, you won’t last long.”He threatened, then sighed and collapsed onto the sofa. Picking up the dropped glass stick, he cleaned it off and lit it again. A strange odor drifted through; Joo-o wrinkled his nose, trying to remember the scent for no good reason.“The pay’s low.”“You’re not a mercenary anymore, yet you care about pay.”As he teased Banya, I tapped Joo-o and collected four more boxes from his hands. Joo-o slung his pack back on, beaming as if he’d done a great deed.These were painkillers you couldn’t get outside a hospital. Good enough on their own, but drifters melted, boiled, and distilled them into pure narcotics—every kid knew those fetched high prices. Banya pocketed the Kodephil as if pleased with the deal.“Ahem… Whoever this researcher is, I know someone from there.”“Who was he, really?”“He’s got a story. But these days, who doesn’t? Not exactly a researcher—but he got into, uh, research facilities.”“And?”“I haven’t seen him since we left Solar City, but we did stay in touch. No idea if he’s alive.”He scratched his scarred throat, then leaned back on the armrest. After a lazy look at the ceiling, he stretched and added offhandedly:“He went to Seogyeong City. He somehow got word I was here and sent a message.”His gaze dropped. I noticed dust clinging to his hair—evidence he’d been too drunk or stoned to notice.“I ignored him. Wanted him to think I was dead. So he wouldn’t know I’m living like this.”His jovial tone soured with regret.It wasn’t hard to secure transport to Seogyeong City. The cities weren’t far apart, and though civilian passage had halted, corporate logistics still ran regularly.I hitched a ride on an empty truck carrying Goryeo City’s primary produce. Officially I was escorting it, but in truth I paid extra to get on board. We spent the next day cramped in the dark, stifling cargo hold—barely breathable. We passed the time for hours projecting holos of Odelona.“Right. We should be heading now.”“Quit the crap and hand it over before I tip it out.”Irritatingly, Joo-o was absurdly good at it.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.