Click.
The five of them pushed open the huge iron gate. The brick wall enclosing the courtyard belonged to that very familiar building.
"Oh, is this place ours now? Putato, you're amazing!"
"We'll live here from now on. This cost a huge sum of money!"
Mo, carrying a black briefcase, had never felt so excited in this place. After all, it was all theirs now!
Consta and Arnold closed the heavy iron gate, marveling at the defensive measures. At least for keeping rats out, it was absolutely no problem.
Putato glanced at the top of the stairs, finding the room empty. The main door had been replaced with an anti-theft iron door, which he guessed was Gyeong-mi's doing.
Even in The Backstreets, directly giving away a whole building was considered a big gesture. Putato felt Gyeong-mi was quite generous, perhaps as an advance reward.
This made him feel a bit awkward about having taken the regeneration ampoules. Next time, he'd buy some workshop jewelry to give to Gyeong-mi.
"Putato, this crate only has half a tube of liquid. It should be fine, right? I searched the whole room back then."
"And there were some extra gains."
Mo scattered some loose change to show off to Putato, then tucked it into Putato's pocket.
Half a tube?
Putato looked at Katae suspiciously.
"No problem, Brother. That's a very high-purity substance. It's best not to open it without protection."
"What did Green Journey do to get this stuff? Is their technology really that strong?"
Recalling the healing spray and syringe Katae had used, Putato wondered if this thing wasn't the raw solution.
K Corporation had an eye called [Tearful Thing]. It would weep when it felt suffering, and its tears could return living beings to their primordial form in its consciousness.
The regeneration ampoules under the Corporation's flag were diluted. A slightly higher concentration of the dissolving syringe would directly dissolve a person.
"Yes, the essential personality chip for full-body prosthetic modifications now uses their technology. It's just that most workshops now know about it."
"I've also looked at most of their internal data."
Putato didn't need to ask to know that Green Journey certainly didn't willingly share this. They likely stole the data when it was being brutalized by K Corporation.
He had previously thought Katae was a doctor, but it turns out he was a technical personnel.
He only now realized: wouldn't such a mechanical chip, which could turn a person into a mere plaything when plugged into a prosthetic, violate The City's taboos?
"Well, actually, the personality chip is still alive. If the mechanical frame is damaged and not properly preserved for two or three days, it will become scrap."
"To explain it in the simplest terms, every time it's plugged into a prosthetic, it overwrites the personality in the prosthetic's brain."
"This is also why full-body prostheticization can be easily tolerated. The chip is actually the true body."
Damn it!
Putato, being only able to undergo prosthetic modifications, truly didn't understand these mechanical parts technologies. After all, doctors wouldn't work in the dark.
"But wouldn't this lead to problems with self-identity? Like the Ship of Theseus, being unable to confirm what one truly is?"
"That's why full-body prostheticization is considered insane even by people in The City. Most only do it if they're desperate for a fight."
As Katae spoke, he carefully glanced at the three iron-men, quietly retreating behind Putato.
Mo, however, nonchalantly counted the keys, while the other two were choosing their new rooms.
"In The City, you must showcase your talents, otherwise, you'll face misfortune."
"Look at me, I'm doing just fine, aren't I? This is my talent, different from others!"
To be completely unconcerned about this could also be considered thick-skinned.
"Katae, you also pick a room on the first floor."
"Can I be with you, Brother?"
Mo, whose circular screen flashed a question mark, put down the keys and approached.
"Aren't you a man? And who is your brother? You seem very familiar with him."
"You should call him 'boss.' You have no manners."
Putato ignored Mo, opened room 101, and lay on the sofa.
"You go sleep in a bed then. For the necessary syringe compounding, just have Consta run errands. This guy can't sit still."
Just as Putato closed his eyes, he suddenly remembered something. He quickly pulled out his communicator, wanting to ask Gyeong-mi when they were gathering tomorrow, and casually marked the irrelevant messages from Yixin as read.
[Pangolin: I tried a new formula. I'll bring you some thicker bone broth tomorrow.]
[Putato: Uh, I have something to do tomorrow.]
[Pangolin: It's alright. Stray Dogs are no problem for me, and I miss you.]
So that's why he had something to do!
Putato turned over, pondering how to deal with this influential figure. He couldn't let Elena go; this Bloodfiend was still severely injured and not fully recovered. She was no match.
This Chef was truly hopeless. He had to find a way to make her quiet down.
[Lesti: Woo-hoo~! I've finished my exams. Now we wait for the results.]
[Putato: Congratulations. I hope you can become a manager at Wings of the World and open a back door for me.]
[Lesti: My first choice is W Corporation. I super love the WARP trains. Those trains that can reach their destination in just 10 seconds are so miraculous.]
Putato sighed. He was happy for the other person but also a little sad.
People from The Backstreets like Lesti were only seen as loyal cannon fodder by the Wings of the World. They would never reach management in their entire lives.
[Lesti: I truly have such talent! I'll pay you back double the money then!]
[Putato: You make me want to charge you usurious interest.]
Getting up from the sofa, Putato truly couldn't think of how to get Yixin to abandon his idea.
It's just eating soup; it shouldn't be too big of a deal, right?
Putato irritably pushed Katae and Mo aside. Ignoring whatever they said, he headed for the rooftop.
Climbing six floors in one go, Putato felt his body growing stronger and stronger. For him, working was truly useful.
Bang.
"Elena?"
Putato pushed open the iron door, somewhat surprised that the Bloodfiend wasn't here. All the dried corpses that were originally piled up here were also gone, leaving only a few bloodstains.
Slowly walking to the railing, this was Putato's first time observing The Backstreets at night.
Everywhere in the residential area were ivy-like headlamps, reflecting people's faces in myriad colors. Occasionally, he would see robberies and brawls.
The territories controlled by Syndicates and those commercial streets were as bright as day. Even at night, for a certain period, people still came and went, like a sizzling stir-fry, emitting a hot, bubbling, human-like sound.
"The City, I must show you my new capabilities."
Putato, whose mood had unexpectedly improved, took a deep breath, keenly observing every location until he noticed an anomaly at the coffee shop across the street.
That psychotic kidnapper of the little girl had run out again, struggling with the barista over a coffee machine, causing chaos that made all the customers flee. Putato felt his anger rise.
Just as two attendants were about to apprehend the patient, a man in a leather jacket appeared from behind and knocked them unconscious.
After doing all this, the man in the leather jacket actually sat down in the coffee shop.
Putato could see through the window that he picked up a previous customer's coffee and simply drank it.
"You two lunatics, don't you dare go back to the hospital!"
Putato, turning around in a fit of rage, instantly froze.
Bang!
A huge impact force and searing pain shot through his right shoulder. Putato was sent rolling three times on the ground, blood splattering two meters away.
"Damn it!"
Pain seemed to pierce through Putato's entire nervous system.
Fortunately, today's Death Tattoo had greatly increased Putato's pain resistance. He gritted his teeth, turning to look at his bloody, mangled shoulder. He couldn't even feel his right arm.
Who would be so ruthless as to ambush him with a gun?
Even Oaks used a starting pistol!
And with that kind of power, it wasn't an ordinary bullet.
Putato's heart was filled with terror and dread. If that had hit his head, he would have exploded on the spot.
Fortunately, the axe tattoo slowed the impact, and the Bloodfiend tattoo quickly stopped the bleeding, but the horrific injury still left Putato immobile.
"Help!"
Physiological trembling made Putato arduously press his left earphone, immediately deciding to enter Necro Emission.
Gray mist permeated the air. Shattered, mixed flesh and bone were systematically re-arranged and recombined like building blocks.
The pain of being burned alive, leading to death, made it difficult for Putato to even sit up. However, it was shrinking as the death aura was consumed.
After barely patching up his body, the death aura immediately returned to Putato's tattoo.
The death aura's restoration, however, was limited to complete reassembly. The blood splattered all over his face couldn't flow back.
"Damn, why do I feel a bit anemic and dizzy?"
Clang!
Three metallic clashes sounded from behind. Putato hastily rolled away and hid at the top of the stairs, then lay flat against the wall, peering over.
He saw grappling hooks firmly gripping the eaves, their sharp tips even piercing the hard concrete.
"What is that?"
Carefully standing up, Putato slowly approached the grappling hook. Looking down from the edge immediately startled him.
Below, three fully armed figures were rapidly climbing. Putato could now even hear the friction of the grappling hook ropes being retracted.
Creak, creak.
Startled that these people were coming for him, Putato immediately drew his Honesuki, intending to cut the black rope. But the sensation from the blade immediately made him realize it was a wire.
Although the Honesuki cut flesh like mud, against other materials, it was merely a fine tool.
Bang!
Putato opened a tear gas bomb from his belt and dropped it next to the grappling hook. He hastily wanted to return to the top of the stairs. Facing an unknown enemy, running first was definitely the better option.
"Bloodstains, confirmed!"
Silently stepping onto the rooftop, the three had barely steadied themselves when a large cloud of pungent mist rose around their feet. However, it had no effect on them, as they were tightly wrapped in dark combat gear.
Quickly abandoning the wire, the squad immediately rushed towards the top of the stairs, instantly descending to the fifth floor.
"Bloodstains, lost!"
The three intruders repeatedly scanned the floor, but couldn't find even a trace of blood. They decisively split up to cover more ground.
"I'll secure the control panel on this floor. You two continue the sweep. Any unauthorized personnel are to be killed on sight."
As the leader turned to head upstairs, the remaining two immediately paired up to patrol the rooms.
The building's layout relied on a shared restroom for each floor. Putato was currently wedged into the corner of the restroom, desperately holding his breath and forcing his heartbeat to remain silent.
Through a faint reflection in the window at the end of the corridor, Putato saw one man enter a room to inspect while the other stood guard at the door. They were clearly well-trained professionals.
Who sent them?
This clinical style didn't feel like a Syndicate. Could they be Fixers?
Hearing the faint thud of footsteps drawing closer, Putato knew he couldn't afford to hesitate. He had to make a move.
Putato gripped his Honesuki. The memory of the enemy's gun, capable of shattering a human body in a single shot, made him tremble with primitive fear.
Even if his reaction speed was top-tier, could he really beat a finger already resting on a trigger?
"Putato?!"
A worried cry echoed from below the stairs, immediately causing the squad member to raise his weapon in alarm.
No more waiting!
Putato violently hurled the last smoke bomb from his belt.
Thud.
The sudden movement behind him caused the soldier to blindly fire a shot backward. Through his goggles, the man saw the hissing white smoke, his expression momentarily flickering with confusion.
Swish!
A blade whistled in from the right. His gun barrel was instinctively drawn toward the sound. After tracing a quick arc, he redirected his aim toward the misty figure charging from the left.
For mid-to-low-grade Fixers, the lethality of firearms was absolute.
The soldier pulled the trigger without a second thought. Three bursts of blood erupted from Putato's legs, slamming him onto his knees.
"Target found, aaaah!!"
As the man tried to report the hit, Putato's hand had already reached his boot. The elite combatant suddenly screamed, his gun shaking uncontrollably in his grip.
At first, he tried to maintain his hold on the weapon, but upon full contact with the death aura, he collapsed with a heavy thud and began to howl in agony.
The reinforcing squad member lunged out of the room and immediately shot Putato in the thigh, then tried to reach down and drag his comrade to safety. But the spreading death aura instantly snaked around his fingertips.
"Ah!!!"
They collapsed into a pile of screaming meat. Only Putato, who had mentally braced himself, could barely maintain consciousness.
The four allies from below finally arrived at the scene. Putato weakly pointed toward the top of the stairs, then struggled to deactivate Necro Emission.
It wasn't that Putato couldn't command the death tattoo; it was simply that the searing pain made it impossible to concentrate.
Putato tried to rein in the death aura. While repairing his corpse, he realized these bastards had specifically aimed for his legs.
"Don't move any closer!"
The moment Mo saw Putato in this state, she barked a warning to the others, then followed Putato's finger with her gaze.
An overpowering stench of blood suddenly hit them.
A colossal, blood-red monster descended the stairs with the stealth of a hunting cat. In its jaws, it clamped a helmeted head, looking like a nightmare in a stuffed animal costume.
Before Mo could even react, Elena spat out the head and, ignoring the others, rushed to Putato's side.
"What's wrong with you?! You're not allowed to die!"
"We worked way too hard to become friends."
Putato, having burned more than half of his death aura to knit his legs back together, gritted his teeth and shoved aside the heavy corpse pressing on his chest. Only after confirming all three enemies were dead did he finally clutch his head and howl.
Putato felt as if millions of ants were burrowing under his skin, relentlessly biting at his neck and limbs. He frantically scratched at himself until he was covered in fresh bloodstains.
Even Elena couldn't grasp what was happening. Putato looked like he was having a violent seizure.
"Stop licking my leg, you damn freak!"
"Fine, I see you're not going to kick the bucket. A second ago, both your legs looked like shattered toothpicks."
The frequent exposure to the death aura was causing Putato to suffer from intense phantom pain. He felt as though death would be a mercy.
The massive blood loss had left Putato's lips bone-pale and his limbs frail.
"Give me..."
"Want me to lick it again? My spit stops the pain instantly. It's very effective."
"Get that survivor alive!"
Putato suddenly slammed his fist against the floor, and only then did the group snap into action.
...
Room 101.
Slumped on the sofa, Putato gulped down the red sugar waterElena had brought. He could hear the muffled violence of the Night in the Backstreets outside. The Sweepers were keeping their distance, leaving the building untouched.
Putato felt too weak to even bite into an apple. The death aura wasn't a magic cure-all.
"Total waste of time. I used every interrogation trick I know."
Mo stepped out of the bedroom, carrying a bloody crowbar. Her report made Putato scowl.
After wiping a large bloodstain from Putato's chest, Elena yawned, her expression turning uncharacteristically serious.
"Top-tier gear, professional training. These aren't Syndicate thugs."
"No serial numbers on their bodies, and they carry high-end firearms. They don't look like research lab security, and small Corporations don't have the cash for this level of equipment."
Elena lowered her voice, leaning in close to Putato's ear.
"I think these are black-ops soldiers from a Wing of the World. Those giants have many ways to breed loyal dogs. Do you really have some kind of special constitution?"
"Or are you some kind of escaped test subject?"
Seeing Putato staring into space, Elena licked a stray drop of blood from his neck.
"You don't have to tell me. I trust you."
"Regardless of the truth, I am your friend, and I will protect you."
"Hm."
Putato knew perfectly well he was just another trash-born kid from The Backstreets. His only unique asset was carrying Khaji's Work Card.
But his attackers couldn't possibly be Beholders from B Corporation; if they were, things wouldn't be this messy. So, it was impossible for them to know that secret.
Did he have any other secrets?
As a matter of fact, he did!