Putato lay quietly on the sofa, staring out the window at the pale sky, feeling only a void.
It was as if nothing had happened the night before.
"Brother, what did you do yesterday?"
"I did bad things."
Standing up to strip off his grimy combat uniform, Putato looked at his hands and clenched his fists tight.
He still had Stray Dogs business today; he couldn't just sit here rot.
"It must be to protect me, then."
"No, I just killed people."
"In The City, protecting those close to you means slaughtering those who aren't."
Katae brought a bowl of hot soup to Putato, and his words made Putato waver even more.
"Is this okay? Although it's a bit late to say this, maybe some people here don't need to die, like you."
"Thank you for protecting me, Brother."
"I don't know! You don't understand what I'm saying!"
Faced with Putato's incoherent babbling, Katae suddenly had a moment of clarity and nodded.
He then turned around and grabbed an Enkephalin syringe from the bedroom.
"No, I don't want that! I won't need this ever again!"
Putato slapped the pneumatic syringe to the ground, burying his head in his knees. He didn't even know what he was doing anymore.
Gently setting down the syringe, Katae cupped Putato's face.
"I know. You just need more Courage."
With that, he closed his eyes, recalling something.
Putato wanted to snap the other's hand, but he fought to suppress the frustration inside.
"Putato, you are naturally insane."
"You use morality, good and evil, as excuses for your actions. Friends and allies are just toys to bleed off your pressure. You do everything because you want to, for no other reason."
"It's like no one asks why the apple fell from the tree. You don't need to play dumb and try to convince yourself."
Looking into Katae's serious eyes, Putato felt a long-lost peace. He immediately changed into his Syndicate clothes.
Picking up the Honesuki, Putato still turned back to ask hesitantly.
"Do you really feel that way?"
"Hmm? Oaks was the same as you before. I read some psychology books and told her that. It worked very well."
"After all, the Courage to protect also gets used up."
Putato recalled Oaks's screaming terror and her ruthless, bloody state. He slapped himself, finally returning to a semblance of normalcy.
He didn't have time for sentimental reflection. Lobotomy Corporation's Seed of Light plan wouldn't wait. Work couldn't stop.
...
In the taxi, Putato checked his communicator and found a bounty notice from The Ring.
"Bounty" might be the wrong word; they were openly posting invitations on their forum, wanting to meet with Grey Haze, even offering to host an art gallery for them.
But The Ring didn't provide specific images, only abstract gray humanoid paintings. Finding the right person based on that was pure luck.
Putato looked out the window in a daze.
The City was filled with cold weapons sometimes, making him forget it was a high-tech world. News spread like an explosion overnight.
Outside, a commuter was hanging from a large tree, his briefcase still dangling from the branch.
The giggling children nearby weren't scared; instead, they found rope to tie the corpse's feet together, securing the other end to a tree. They took turns using the body as a zip-line, clearly having a blast.
"The Ring."
Recalling last night, Putato confirmed he had ruined an art auction organized by The Ring. They weren't holding a grudge; instead, they were inviting him.
It was unbelievable, and why did they think he was an artist?
Putato quickly arrived at the factory and followed Gyeong-mi to a steel workshop.
The bright sunlight only cast cold white light through the gaps in the steel. Inside the dim factory stood three abnormally tall figures in black robes.
Whether it was the spider-like legs poking from beneath the robes or the pale masks, they made Gyeong-mi frown.
Interactions between Syndicates weren't subject to the same Association rules as Fixers. Putato had been warned not to let the other party "eat them up."
"Stray Dogs' Gyeong-mi? I am Alpha."
"The Thumb's order? Is the deposit enough?"
Putato immediately presented the list from The Thumb, which detailed the requirements for various synthetic fibers.
"Taking the order? Here is the list."
It wasn't until they left the workshop that Gyeong-mi seemed slightly suspicious.
"Those freaks from The Carnival are surprisingly polite. They followed the procedure."
"I thought they'd try to shake us down, especially since they brought the money, considering it was The Thumb's order for Stray Dogs."
The three suddenly stopped. Alpha, using an apparatus shaped like black tentacles, stepped forward to block their path.
Putato cautiously stopped, looking at the massive Alpha rushing toward him. He immediately felt something was wrong.
He knew these patched-up freaks spun synthetic fibers by literally eating people alive. Their combat power, undeniably stronger than Stray Dogs, was something to watch.
"Are you two short on cash? How about we turn you into synthetic fibers?"
"Voluntarily, and you can earn a lot of money—high-quality raw material for tattoo augmentation bodies."
"Get lost!"
Gyeong-mi's face darkened. He completely ignored Alpha's persuasion.
"Go. The Thumb's order is done. You guys go have fun."
Putato watched the ill-tempered Gyeong-mi, and Zulu, who was already leaving, waved goodbye.
"Why are you still here? You look pretty ordinary."
"We have our own structure planned. Are you just going to wait here forever?"
Feeling Alpha standing next to him, Putato could only crane his neck to look at the giant's white mask.
"Are you interested in Myn Church?"
"Stray Dogs wants to become a supplier?"
Alpha turned back and handed Putato several pamphlets and a yellow book. The massive figure leaning toward him made Putato step back.
"They can turn into animals? That's interesting."
Putato grabbed the materials and thanked them before leaving. He was genuinely glad these patched-up people were acting somewhat normal; otherwise, he'd have even more trouble.
After reading the intel, Putato finally grasped the details of this cult.
They worship the liberation of the "True Self," returning to their original state of being.
The yellow book declared that all the pain and sickness in The City were due to complex social relationships. Only by shedding those chains and becoming a new citizen could one escape this artificial interference.
The cult's hierarchy was weird. The leader had no name, just called Me Me Me.
Missionaries were called You You You, and the followers who achieved enlightenment were called They They They.
"Damn it, a bunch of lunatics!"
"Yun, help me contact the Molar Office. I need to cooperate with them on the Myn Church mission."
"Ahem, you should contact them yourself. The rep for the Molar Office is a Grade 5 Fixer, a pillar of order in The City."
"You must have their info. Send me the Office phone number."
Putato didn't expect Yun to bail so fast, but it was normal. He was only a Grade 8 Fixer, naturally unable to keep up with Putato's speed.
The fact that he could investigate the death squad on his own made Putato feel better. That is, until he saw that monstrous fire on his way home.
The orphanage building was engulfed in roaring flames.
The mental patient Patsy was still standing gleefully in front of the blaze, ignoring the heat as he watched the frantic rescue efforts upstairs.
...
A few minutes later, Mo returned, carrying a fresh supply of lubricant and Enkephalin. She found Putato leaning against the wall, drenched in sweat. Beside him stood a dozen dazed children and two caregivers.
She hadn't expected Putato to be so agile, scaling the walls to rescue people like a pro. His hands were scorched, but he didn't seem to feel it—better than any Prosthetic.
"What did you do? Set the curtains on fire while smoking?"
"It was him!"
A boy immediately pointed at Patsy. It turned out the mental patient had been playing with fire in the corridor.
Putato turned to look at Patsy, who showed no remorse. The lunatic even greeted Putato like an old friend.
"I tried to grill a sandwich, but it got a bit burnt."
"But the You You You said that beasts returning to nature don't worry about loans. Money, the future—those worries stay behind. Only eating remains. So I ate the sandwich that fell off."
"You look stressed. Do you want to hear the good news about Myn Church?"
BANG!
Putato didn't have time for his nonsense. He'd deal with him later. He absolutely had to find this You You You missionary, or this entire sector would spiral into chaos.
"Why are there only two of you left at the asylum? Are even the guards gone?"
"The orphanage is bankrupt. We just haven't left yet. It's hard to find work like this in The City."
"Then what about this building?"
"It was donated to Myn Church."
What kind of bullshit cult was this? The scam was obvious, yet people were rushing to hand over their money.
Putato noticed the little girl he'd given the bow tie to. She stood silently, clutching the wine-red fabric, staring at him.
Unable to handle that gaze, Putato looked away.
"Fine. Let the kids stay in our building for now. You two keep your jobs, but the salary will be a bit lower."
The two caregivers were overjoyed. They'd worked there for years and had no other skills. Quitting meant starving.
"Hey, hey, hey! Didn't you forget to ask us?"
Mo threw a box of Enkephalin at Putato, cutting him off.
"Let me tell you something. In The Backstreets, you can only see the brightest stars if you stand on a roof with no lights. The rest are hidden."
"What I mean is, in The City, even things as pure as the stars can be solved with money. If you have money, you have everything."
"Even if you did 99% of the work on that roof, it was still paid for by my money. This is all I have left."
"Making money is the only thing that gets me excited."
"If you're going to use my resources, at least ask for my opinion."
Putato looked at the calm Mo and didn't argue. Reality was exactly as she described. It seemed that in his rush to reach the Pinnacle of The City, he had made too many reckless moves.
"Then... if we do it this way, is it acceptable?"
He asked with difficulty, remembering Katae's words and no longer hiding his own goals.
"Hahahaha! Putato, how did you get so wrinkled and awkward in just one day?"
"Of course it's fine. We're on the same side, after all."
The answer was exactly what Putato expected. He looked up in surprise at Mo's circular screen.
"What's the point of earning money if you don't spend it? I just hate wasting it on things that don't matter."
Mo led Putato and the group back to their building. The caregivers finally relaxed when they saw the place was secure. They'd feared these people were just scammers talking big.
"Ahem... actually, we might have contacts at L Corporation. Maybe they'll still donate to the new orphanage."
"Really?!"
Mo instantly got excited, looking at the children as if they were golden eggs.
"This time, I know exactly what you're talking about."
As Putato stood there stunned, he felt a tug on his leg. It was the little girl, looking happier than the rest.
"This is for you, my treasure."
She held up a fluffy otter puppet.
"Do you know how to use it? Hmph, you can heat it in the microwave before bed."
"It stays very warm. It's like being hugged by a mother."
Perhaps not everything he brought with him was destructive.
Putato crouched down to hug the girl and the puppet, his resolve hardening. He gave the caregivers the rest of the day off.
Standing at the entrance, he watched the children being led upstairs to their rooms with a smile. Then, he turned and fiercely yanked Patsy's leash.
"You better know where those You You Yous are!"
"I'm hungry."
"Then take a punch from me."
Putato dragged Patsy to the abandoned soccer field. Waiting there were three Fixers in brown uniforms.
Olga, standing over 1.70m, had her arms draped over two companions who were only 1.50m tall, making them look like crutches.
Putato didn't laugh. He secured Patsy to a railing and walked forward.
"Oh, look who's here. Our collaborator has arrived."
Olga waved enthusiastically as Putato approached.
"Really? Big Sis, you're sure the guy leading a dog is our guy? Are you drinking during meetings again?"
"Every time your alcohol level goes up, you agree to something crazy. I heard the guy from Yun's Office is only a Grade 8 Fixer. Can he really help us?"
Rain, leaning on his elbow, frowned and approached Putato cautiously.
"Rain is right. Besides, we don't need to work with perverts."
Mika also voiced her doubts. Although she and Rain looked young, they were both Grade 7 Fixers.
Grade 9 and Grade 8 were the bottom of the barrel—usually broke. Grade 7 meant you had real strength and the right to join an Association. Olga was a Grade 5 Fixer, with connections even inside the Wings of the World.
"Greetings. My name is Vanda. This guy knows the missionaries, but his brain is broken. That's why I'm in this mess."
"Ah? Are they the They They They? I heard this cult has tech that turns people into animals."
"So, you're willing to take me on this mission."
"Wait a minute."
Olga straightened up, pushing Rain and Mika behind her. Putato touched the bandage on his face, his hand resting on the hilt of the Blood Sword.
"You have the intel, but for the safety of my team, I can't take someone whose skills are only half-baked."
"How about this: show me a few moves. Let me see the strength of a lone-wolf Fixer."
"I've seen guys like you before—strength that's way beyond their Office level, so they look for better work elsewhere. But high-tier Offices require a high rank."
"If your Office doesn't take high-tier jobs, you can't rank up. You must have some real talent if you're brave enough to investigate Myn Church."