Chapter 209
I wandered around Border City, following the addresses listed under prosthetic engineers.
Turning into an alley, I spotted a prosthetic surgery clinic. A sign on the closed door indicated it was a holiday. The fact that they could afford to take breaks meant they were making decent money.
Crack.
I pressed my finger against the lock on the door and broke it. The moment the door opened, I strode inside without hesitation.
"S-Shit, w-what the hell?! Who the hell are you?!"
The clinic owner flinched in shock and pointed a gun at me. Only his right arm was a cybernetic prosthetic.
"Hmm, do you even have the equipment to perform full-body prosthetic procedures? These machines are decades old. Looks like they’re barely good enough for maintenance work."
I walked in casually, surveying the interior. Even with a gun aimed at me, I showed no signs of tension—because, honestly, there was no reason to be tense.
The clinic owner squinted while keeping the gun trained on me. Having survived in the underbelly of society, he was sharp enough to realize something: if he made the wrong move, he’d be the one to die.
"Toss me a nice, fat credit chip, and I’ll tell you what I know."
I liked people who caught on quickly. It meant I didn’t have to waste my breath explaining things.
Click.
I pulled out a credit chip and placed it on the table. The clinic owner lowered his gun and put a cigarette in his mouth.
"I don’t smoke. I don’t like cigarette smoke."
I snatched the cigarette from him as I spoke. The clinic owner grumbled under his breath.
"Truth is, I’ve never actually performed a full-body prosthetic procedure. As you can see, this place doesn’t have the equipment for it."
"But there were rumors that full-body prosthetic procedures were being done here."
According to Jafa’s intel, this place was supposed to be capable of full-body prosthetics. The clinic owner chuckled at my skepticism.
"Of course, I have to go around claiming I can do full-body procedures—otherwise, no one would think I’m any good. Not that anyone who actually needs a real full-body prosthetic would come to a place like this, anyway."
"Quite the businessman. But thanks to you, I just wasted my time. That credit chip is suddenly starting to feel like a loss…"
I was about to check my terminal for my next destination.
"W-Wait! If you're looking for full-body prosthetic engineers, I can weed out the frauds for you. If I help you avoid guys like me, it'll save you some time, right? So…"
The clinic owner’s eyes flicked toward the credit chip as he rubbed his fingers together.
…It’s not like this is my money anyway.
I pulled out another credit chip of the same amount and handed it over.
Beep.
I adjusted my terminal and activated the built-in holographic lens.
Whirrr.
The list Jafa had compiled floated in midair as a hologram, forming a virtual interface.
Swish, swish.
The clinic owner flicked through the hologram, drawing lines with his fingers as he scanned the names.
"This bastard claims he can do full-body prosthetics? He should at least keep his lies somewhat believable. Tsk, this guy can’t even attach a proper prosthetic arm. He’s a wreck—his own hands shake from all the drugs he’s taken…"
The clinic owner skillfully sorted through the list.
I folded my arms and waited for him to finish. The clinic was rundown, but it still felt like a workspace. He seemed to know his trade, at least.
"How’s the prosthetic business in Border City?"
"It’s decent enough to get by. There’s not much demand, but that also means there aren’t too many suppliers. New customers are rare. High-end prosthetics are hard to come by, so people tend to be skeptical. If Accretia opened up the market completely, things might improve. Their prosthetic tech is the best, after all."
Hearing that gave me a sense of pride. Your roots and background aren’t so easily discarded.
"I can understand why people don’t trust prosthetics. Once you start using them, you have to get regular maintenance and replacements. Even switching to a new technician can change how they feel. And lower-quality or second-hand ones always come with issues."
"I hear the Empire’s latest models can last for years without any tuning or maintenance, as long as they don’t sustain physical damage."
Not just recently—it's always been that way. The high-end prosthetics used by nobles rarely had problems, even without external maintenance. Only combat-grade prosthetics, which required both durability and precision, needed regular servicing.
"Why not move to the Empire, then? Wouldn’t a prosthetic engineer like you want to check it out?"
"Heh, you must be joking. That place isn’t for people. It’s for machines."
He wasn’t wrong. I laughed along with him.
The clinic owner finished checking the list. With a broad wave of his hand, he closed the hologram. The light emitted from my terminal’s holographic lens faded.
I stepped out of the clinic. The sun was setting, casting a dim glow over the sky. As darkness spread, the lights of Border City grew brighter.
I walked beneath the neon signs and street lamps. Being a busy district, the area was flooded with overlapping holographic ads.
Crash! Thud!
The sounds of a fight broke out. I turned my gaze toward the alley.
"Krgh!"
Crawlers. Two of them were brawling. A bar stood right next to them—it looked like a drunken scuffle had escalated into a full-on brawl.
Even crawlers who had adapted to the city lived as vagrants or gang members. They were a type far removed from honest labor.
‘Boyan…’
Seeing the crawlers reminded me of Boyan.
‘…Lately, he did seem to be doing a little better.’
Even without seeking him out, I often ran into Boyan at the office building. Recently, his face seemed a bit brighter. If he had somehow managed to resolve his issues or find a breakthrough, that would be a relief.
‘To be blunt, Boyan’s problems aren’t something I can solve for him.’
As I walked through the streets, hunger crept in, so I stepped into a food stall that smelled good and took a seat.
“Customer, you look like a first-timer. Our shop only serves Japa burgers.”
The man, flipping a meat patty while holding a cigarette between his lips, spoke.
“Not Jafa, but Japa?”
“It’s twice as tasty as that snake-headed bastard’s burger, so give it a try.”
I shrugged and placed an order. Business seemed decent, with people coming and going steadily.
The owner handed me a burger wrapped in paper. I took it and slowly peeled back the wrapping. It didn’t look any different from a Jafa burger. The smell was nearly identical as well.
‘It costs less than half the price.’
If it tasted better, the Jafa burger had reason to be nervous.
Munch, munch.
I bit into the burger and chewed, focusing on the taste.
I could feel the shop owner’s gaze. He seemed to be anticipating my reaction.
‘…Interesting.’
The taste was similar. The sauce, in particular, was shockingly close to that of the Jafa burger.
However, the texture of the meat patty was oddly different. It was a bit tougher, as if rubber had been mixed in, and if I didn’t chew thoroughly, I felt like I might get indigestion.
“It’s not twice as good, but at half the price, it’s worth eating.”
“Hmph, I’ll settle for that review for now, customer. Honest criticism is necessary for improvement.”
The shop owner grinned. He must have known it still fell short compared to a Jafa burger.
I sat and finished the rest of my burger. My throat was dry, but the drink container had insect carcasses and floating debris, so I had no desire to take a sip.
‘Hm?’
I stared past the shop owner’s back. A shadow strode forward beyond the food stall’s canopy. Judging by the build, it was an Equessian.
“Hey, duck your head.”
I licked the sauce off my thumb as I spoke.
“Huh?”
The shop owner didn’t lower his head.
Then, a rough arm burst through the canopy and grabbed the shop owner’s head.
Creak, creak.
The Equessian tore through the stall’s canopy as he emerged. With one hand, he grabbed the shop owner’s head and lifted him into the air.
The Equessian was wearing a familiar combat helmet.
- Luka, why are you here?
He recognized me as well.
“You’ve recovered, I see, En.”
I spoke while still seated. At the mention of En’s name, the shop owner started trembling violently.
“J-Jafa’s hunting dog…”
- You know why I’m here, don’t you?
En tossed the shop owner to the ground and dusted off his hands. The Equessian physique was overwhelmingly larger than a human’s, with muscles as solid as iron yet flexible. They were a species of natural-born warriors, much like crawlers.
“I-I was just selling a little on the streets…”
- The scale isn’t the issue. You’re an industrial spy. Who gave you the sauce recipe? Not that you need to answer right away. You won’t be able to hold out without talking anyway.
The shop owner’s face turned deathly pale. He reached for a pistol hidden in his coat.
‘What a foolish move.’
En simply grabbed the shop owner’s hand and crushed it with his grip alone.
Crunch, crack!
When En let go, the shop owner’s hand was mangled as if it had been flattened by metal.
“Guh…! Keuh…! Kugh…!”
The shop owner curled up, clutching his broken hand, tears and snot streaming down his face.
“You’ve been busy running around as soon as you recovered.”
I spoke to En. He had been severely injured during the attack on Jafa’s headquarters and had been hospitalized.
- I heard you covered for me well in my absence. Not bad, human.
“Not bad? I’m better than you. You’re stuck handling trivial jobs like this.”
- Ha, ha, ha. I’ll give you credit for that confidence. But this isn’t a trivial job. A sauce recipe leak is serious enough for me to be sent in. Not that this idiot seems to understand that.
En was probably right. He was a trusted mercenary of Jafa. They wouldn’t use him for unimportant matters.
‘Just how strong is En?’
I’d always been curious. If his strength didn’t match the confidence he always exuded, I’d be quite disappointed.
I had high expectations for the Equessian species—especially En, who was considered strong among them. I wanted to see his skills firsthand.
‘To be precise, I want to fight him.’
En must have sensed my fighting spirit because he stared at me intently. His combat helmet, which covered his entire face, was menacing.
- If you’re that frustrated, don’t just stare at me. Strap a credit chip around your neck and head in there. Whether it’s women or gangsters, they’ll come running for you.
“A useful piece of advice. Thanks. Now go finish your work, Jafa’s hunting dog.”
I got up from my seat. En hoisted the shop owner onto his shoulder and disappeared.
I continued walking through the streets. Border City was home to many different species. I often encountered races I had never even heard of before. It was a stark contrast to the Empire.
‘Equessian.’
They were the species that intrigued me the most. Generally, species with high combat prowess were often too aggressive to be trusted. Crawlers were the same.
Equessians, however, had a cold, collectivist nature. For a warrior race, their crime rate was relatively low. That was likely why so many groups hired them as mercenaries.
Thump, thump, clap, boom.
Music echoed through the streets.
Turning my head, I saw a group of teenagers from various species dancing in the square. It was a kind of street culture.
A thick, acrid smoke drifted among them, whether from cigarettes or drugs, I couldn’t tell.
Normally, I would have ignored them and walked on. But today, something caught my eye.
‘Boyan?’
A young crawler with his hood pulled low over his face stood among them. Since it was difficult to distinguish non-human species, I could have been mistaken.
At first, I thought I was seeing things. But no matter how many times I looked, it was definitely Boyan. He bobbed his head to the beat, mingling with the delinquents.
“Hm…”
I rarely hesitated for long, but this time, I did. Boyan needed an outlet for his stress. But whether this was the right way to do it was another question.
This didn’t seem like stress relief—it looked more like an escape.
‘In the end, it’s his life. It’s not my place to interfere.’
…That’s what I told myself. And yet, I had already left him alone several times. If I was being honest, I was just making excuses and running away from the situation.
Today, I had a feeling that running away wasn’t the right choice.
Scratching my head, I stepped into the square.
“Hey, old man. This ain’t a place for geezers. The brothel’s that way.”
A kid lounging on the outskirts tried to act tough, blocking my path.
“Hah.”
I let out a small laugh.
This was what I liked about young pups. Guys who had spent a long time in the back alleys could sense a strong predator. But kids let their pride override their survival instincts.
Crack!
I kicked him in the shin. His bone snapped with a crisp sound.
This was a lesson. He needed to learn that challenging a stronger opponent could get him killed. That knowledge might just save his life someday.
“Ahhh! Fuck! You—fucking old bastard! You’re dead!”
The kid, clutching his broken leg, jabbed a finger at me and called out to his friends.