WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Mordor
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Max-Level Swordsman of Fusionpunk ◈
Chapter 5
──────
Kang Doseok dreamed.
It was raining.
He was in the front yard of an old orphanage. Rainwater pooled on the dirt, and mud clung to the soles of the children's shoes.
The kids stood there without umbrellas. They all looked grubby.
Kang Doseok walked at the front. The kids followed him.
"Where are we going, big bro?" someone asked.
Kang Doseok didn't answer.
"The internet cafe?"
"Are we going to play games?"
"But we don't have any money."
Still, the kids followed. Because Kang Doseok had told them to come. Because he'd said he had something fun to show them. Because he'd said they could play together, and he'd teach them everything.
Kang Doseok kept walking.
In the dream, he couldn't answer. He couldn't turn around or tell the kids to go back.
He knew where they were going. He knew what would happen.
But his feet wouldn't stop. His mouth wouldn't open. He walked ahead, and the kids followed, laughing, unaware of anything.
A worn-out light glowed at the end of the alley. An old internet cafe sign flickered. They were too far away to hear anything, yet he could hear keyboards clattering and old computer fans spinning.
The kids started running.
"Come on!"
"Are there seats, big bro?"
"I want to sit next to you."
Kang Doseok stood in front of the door.
He knew he mustn't open it. He wanted to stop the hand turning the handle, but he'd already thrown the door open.
The kids took their seats one by one.
Old chairs creaked. Small hands grabbed mice and keyboards. A familiar logo appeared on the screens.
Chrome Blade Saga.
The main screen, with its silver blade.
The kids chattered. One said they wanted to pick a character, while another asked what username to use. The youngest couldn't find the keys and felt around for them one at a time.
Kang Doseok stood behind them.
"Big bro, do I click this?" someone asked.
Kang Doseok couldn't answer.
The silver sword on the screen wavered. The internet cafe ceiling flickered. The fluorescent lights went out once, then came back on.
At that moment, the sound of computer fans became the roar of engines.
The clatter of keyboards became gunfire.
The mouse clicks became the sound of blades being drawn.
The chairs beneath the kids vanished. So did the internet cafe floor.
The next moment.
They were standing in an alley in Netron City.
It was still raining. Signs flashed in unreadable letters, and oily water ran across the ground. A siren wailed in the distance. Gunshots rang out, and someone screamed.
The kids weren't laughing anymore.
They were all looking at Kang Doseok.
““Big bro.””
Kang Doseok opened his eyes.
He saw the ceiling. The dark ceiling of the penthouse.
The rain tapping against the windows sounded exactly like it had in his dream.
Kang Doseok lay still for a while.
Then he sat up.
He was thirsty.
He picked up the glass on the bedside table and drained the lukewarm water in one go.
"Was it because I saw those kids?"
Grubby faces. Rain-soaked clothes. A little kid who had looked after a younger sibling first, even with fear in their eyes.
For the first time in a while, he'd thought about the old days. After sitting still for a moment, Kang Doseok set down the empty glass.
Sleep had left him completely. He sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the rain for a while. Neon light spread beyond the window.
Then his terminal rang. It was Kabel, his job broker. Kang Doseok pressed the answer button.
"What?"
[Kang Doseok. Were you asleep?]
"Just woke up."
[Good timing. I've got some information on a Skill Star.]
At those words, Kang Doseok slowly rose to his feet.
"Tell me more. Where'd you get it?"
[A black market auction site.]
"A guild listing?"
[I wouldn't have called if it was.]
"A corporation, then?"
[Not that either. An ordinary civilian posted it personally.]
"..."
Kang Doseok fell silent for a moment. Kabel continued.
[I've already identified the person who posted it. A corpse collector working in Sector F. Name's Mort, twenty-eight years old. Male. No dependents. Just an ordinary citizen.]
"Hold on. I'll check it myself."
Kang Doseok switched screens on his terminal. The address Kabel had sent was displayed there. He clicked the link right away.
An old black market auction site opened. Even the front page was a mess. Listings filled the screen: illegal cybernetic prosthetics, unregistered firearms, decommissioned combat drones, organ transplants, identity laundering services.
Kang Doseok entered the number Kabel had sent into the search bar.
A post opened.
[Skill Star for sale.]
[Genuine.]
[Only wealthy players with a serious interest in buying should contact me.]
There was an attached photo, too.
Fingers stained with black, dried blood.
A red star rested between them.
Kang Doseok enlarged the photo.
The quality was poor. The lighting was terrible, too. But he could still tell what it was.
A Skill Star. A Blood-type one, at that.
Kang Doseok muttered under his breath.
"This bastard's insane."
[Seen it?]
"Yeah."
[I don't know if it's real or fake yet. Anyway, the post went up twenty minutes ago. If you're interested, you'd better move fast.]
Kang Doseok scrolled down to check the view count.
The number was abnormally high. Comments were closed, but that didn't matter. Anyone who saw something like this wouldn't waste time leaving a comment. They'd go there in person.
Kang Doseok picked up the sheathed sword standing beside his bed.
"Kabel."
[What?]
"Does the guy who posted this have some kind of intellectual disability?"
[Not according to his records. Heh heh. It was a fucking stupid move, though. An ordinary civilian with nothing to his name, putting a Skill Star on an auction site.]
Kang Doseok didn't disagree.
It wasn't just any stupid move.
A Skill Star wasn't an ordinary object. It wasn't a jewel you could sell for a high price, or stolen goods you could put on the black market while you waited for a buyer.
To a player, a Skill Star was an opportunity.
A new skill.
A new path for growth.
The simplest, surest way for already powerful players to become even stronger.
And an ordinary civilian had advertised that he had one.
That wasn't an offer to sell something. It was an advertisement saying, Here I am. Come kill me.
Some players might show up with money. Maybe one in a thousand. The other 999? They'd just try to kill him and take it.
That was what a Skill Star was. Something every player was desperate to get even one more of.
Kang Doseok looked at the title again.
[Skill Star for sale.]
What a stupid sentence.
The word "seller" only suited someone strong enough to protect what they had.
It didn't apply to an ordinary corpse collector named Mort.
"Where is he?"
[Last confirmed location was near the closed collection zone in District 18, Sector F. It's a passage connected to the corpse processing plant where he worked. Leads straight into the sewers.]
"Does he have the star on him?"
[Don't know. I don't even know if he's still alive. Well, even if he is, he'll be dead in a few hours, so it amounts to the same thing.]
Kang Doseok fastened the sheathed sword at his waist.
"Send me the coordinates."
[Already did.]
The coordinates appeared on his terminal.
Closed collection zone, District 18, Sector F.
An old underground passage leading to the corpse processing plant. Kang Doseok could get there in under ten minutes.
He checked the coordinates and headed for the front door. When he threw it open, damp air rushed inside. Kang Doseok stepped out.
* * *
Mort was running like mad along a passage beside the sewer.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck...!"
He could barely breathe. His work clothes were soaked with rain and sweat, and the sole of his left shoe had half come off. But he couldn't stop.
If he stopped, he'd die.
Even Mort knew that much.
He hadn't known it would turn out like this.
He'd just thought he'd hit the jackpot. That was what he'd thought when he'd found the thing in a pile of corpses.
He'd thought he finally had a chance to escape a life of hauling corpses, wiping up rotten blood, and shoving unidentified bodies into a grinder.
So he'd posted it.
On a black market auction site.
A Skill Star for sale.
Until then, Mort had thought he was being smart. He'd taken a blurry photo and routed his connection through several detours. He'd thought that if he wrote that only players serious about buying should contact him, the rich ones would name their prices.
But the very first message had been strange.
They hadn't asked the price.
They'd asked where he was.
The second message was the same.
The third had said this outright.
[Are you home right now? Room 205 in the red building. Right?]
The moment Mort saw that message, he'd jumped out the back window of his home.
Twenty seconds later, he'd heard his room explode.
"Fuck, these fucking lunatics...!"
Mort ran deeper into the closed collection zone. The facility had shut down long ago. Water leaked from the ceiling, and rusted corpse transport rails sat motionless along the walls. Black water pooled on the floor.
He knew this place well.
The lower passages of the Sector F corpse processing plant.
Old corridors once used to move unclaimed bodies.
Routes ordinary people didn't know much about.
Mort glanced back, panting.
No one was there.
He stopped for a moment and braced a hand against the wall. His lungs felt as if they would tear apart.
"Fucking bastards. You could just pay for it. You could just pay, so why...?"
At that moment, a voice came from the darkness behind him.
"Pay?"
Mort froze.
Slowly, he turned his head.
A man stood at the end of the passage. A metal mask covered half his face. He held a short axe.
"Why would we pay for that?"
Mort backed away.
"I, I don't have it."
"Then where is it?"
"I don't know. I threw it away."
"Threw it away?"
The man laughed.
"A Skill Star?"
Mort turned and ran.
"Fuuuuck!"
The axe came flying.
Boom!
The wall right beside Mort's head burst apart. Concrete fragments scraped his cheek. Hot blood ran down his face.
Mort swallowed a scream and threw himself into a side passage.
Footsteps followed. More than one set.
"Get him!"
"Take him alive! We need to find out where it is first!"
"Cut off his limbs, one at a time!"
Mort gritted his teeth and ran.
"I don't have it! I told you, I don't have it!"
Of course, that was a lie. Naturally, they wouldn't believe him.
Mort wouldn't have believed it himself if their positions had been reversed.
The person who had the thing claimed he didn't have it.
That meant he'd hidden it. If he'd hidden it, they just had to find it. If he wouldn't tell them where, they could cut off his fingers, one joint at a time.
That was probably how those bastards thought.
"Fuck!"
Mort ran into the central area of the closed collection zone.
It was a wide space. Corpse transport capsules had once passed through here. Now the rails were broken and the conveyor belts stood still. Only a few work lights hanging from the ceiling flickered dimly.
Mort ducked under a rail.
Right then.
Thud!
Something slammed into his side.
"Urgh!"
Mort tumbled across the floor. The air burst from his lungs. Lying facedown, he opened his mouth as if he were about to vomit.
Then a beast's paw stepped on the back of his hand.
Crunch.
"Aaaaagh!"
"Is it you?"
A human with a wolf's face grinned, baring teeth. The figure stood a good two heads taller than an ordinary human.
Rainwater ran through wet fur, and yellow fangs showed inside a long, wide-split muzzle. The eyes were red. They weren't cybernetic lenses or magical devices. Just an animal's eyes.
A werewolf. One of the characters players could choose.
"Are you the idiot who posted online about selling a Skill Star?"
Crrrunch!
The werewolf pressed down hard on Mort's hand. Mort's face twisted in pain.
"Uh, uh, I don't, I don't have it..."
"Then where could it be?"
The werewolf grabbed Mort by the hair and pulled. His face was forced upward.
Two more figures walked up behind the werewolf.
One was a mage wrapped in a black robe. Old rings covered every finger, and a fist-sized fireball floated in the air.
The other was a gunner carrying a shield and a shotgun. An iron shield large enough to cover half the body was held in one hand, while an enormous shotgun rested in the other. Belts of blue-glowing ammunition hung in rows from the gunner's back.
"This guy's seriously fucking crazy, team leader."
"A civilian putting a Skill Star up for auction? Haven't all the idiots who pull that shit died already?"
"Must've thought he could sell it. Heh heh. Fucking moron."
Blue emblems glowed on their shoulders as they spoke. Each showed a sword standing straight up through a gap in partly opened clouds.
Letters were engraved beneath the emblem.
[Korean Cooperative Player Guild Cheongmyeong]
Hearing the voices of the players who had appeared without him noticing, Mort clenched his teeth.
"You could just pay for it... Fuck..."
"Pay?"
The werewolf laughed. The sound rasped from deep in the throat like an animal's growl.
"Hey. You hear that? He says we should pay for it."
The gunner snickered.
"This bastard still thinks he's a seller."
The shotgun wielder looked down at Mort's fingers.
"Right now, you're just a loot box. Open it up, and a star comes out."
Mort's face went pale. He twisted his body, but with his hand pinned down, he could barely move.
"Please. I really don't have it on me. I hid it. So if you kill me, you won't find it. You won't find it if you kill me!"
"That's why you're still alive."
The werewolf pressed down harder with one boot.
"Where'd you hide it?"
"If, if you promise to let me live, and promise to pay me, I'll tell you."
"Hmm. Still don't understand the situation? Then shall we start with your fingers?"
It happened then.
Step.
A footstep echoed across the water-covered floor.
All three turned their heads at once.
Toward the entrance to the closed collection zone.
A man in a rain-soaked coat was walking toward them. A sword hung at his waist.
Mort knew the moment he saw him.
A player. Another player.
"..."
The werewolf slowly lifted the boot off Mort's hand. Yellow fangs showed between wet patches of fur.
"Who the hell are you?"
Instead of answering, Kang Doseok took a business card from inside his coat.
The white card sailed through the damp air.
Tap.
It landed on the floor beside Mort's face.
Mort looked at it, his face covered in blood.
[Kang Doseok, Swordsman
Unaffiliated Player]
The players' expressions stiffened when they saw it. Their mood changed.
The fireball floating at the mage's fingertips wavered. The shield-bearing gunner reflexively raised the shotgun and pulled the shield in tight.
"Kang Doseok?"
The mage was the first to mutter.
"Fuck. That Kang Doseok?"
The shield-bearing gunner let out a long breath, took a blue-glowing shell from an ammunition belt on their back, and loaded it.
The werewolf's red eyes narrowed, too. The ease with which the werewolf had looked down at Mort moments earlier was gone.
Kang Doseok walked toward them slowly.
"I'm here for the star."
"..."
A low breath escaped between the werewolf's fangs.
The werewolf wasn't laughing anymore.
"Kang Doseok. I know who you are. I've heard your name more times than I can count."
All playfulness had left the voice. The werewolf glared at him.
"But this is Cheongmyeong Guild business now."
The mage raised the fireball higher. The blue emblem glowed faintly on a rain-soaked shoulder.
"We tracked him down first, and we caught him first."
The shield-bearing gunner didn't lower the shotgun. With the iron shield held out in front, the gunner aimed at Kang Doseok. The werewolf spoke.
"This is a warning on behalf of the guild. If you interfere any further, it may be considered an act of hostility against Cheongmyeong Guild."
Kang Doseok kept walking. The werewolf's face twisted.
The fireball at the mage's fingertips flickered silently.
As Kang Doseok approached, the werewolf spoke in a low voice.
"I'll say this one last time. Back off."
A brief silence followed.
Drip, drip.
Water falling from the ceiling struck the rusted rails.
The mage's fireball swayed slightly, and the gunner flicked the selector switch with a thumb.
Then Kang Doseok answered.
"I refuse."
"..."
Shing. A silver blade slid free of its sheath. The damp air in the closed collection zone turned cold in an instant.
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried