Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 38: Golden Murdock (1)

My severed wrist danced in the ruins, faintly glowing.

It scuttled across the floor on two fingers, like it had a will of its own, reenacting dance moves I'd seen on TV.

It hopped around using its index and middle fingers as legs—bizarre, but weirdly cheerful.

“...What the hell is this now.”

I stared at it, dumbfounded.

Even in a cyberpunk world where absurdity never stops, this was a first.

Circuit patterns on the wrist still shimmered with a bluish light, like a firefly glowing in the dark.

Watching a severed body part dance suddenly brought something to mind.

Ah.

The Jinrong agents’ ability I’d gained but failed to fully grasp.

It was the power to control severed body parts.

Blue energy from the Hexa Core Ring flowed through every part of me—so even if something got cut off, I could still command it.

Now, even if my limbs were severed, I could make them return to me on their own.

No way...!

I could faintly understand why the wrist was dancing.

Maybe it was trying to show me the power I’d gained but failed to notice.

I finally understood the wrist’s noble intention.

“Alright, come back now.”

Now that I’d awakened this ability, I commanded the wrist to return.

But the wrist didn’t obey. Instead, it danced even harder.

Like it was reveling in a newfound freedom.

“So it wasn’t for enlightenment after all...”

I watched for a moment, then gave up and lunged toward it.

The wrist tried to flee, but I caught it and forcefully reattached it to my arm.

I thought I heard a faint little voice say “Nooo!” near my ear, but I ignored it.

Then a massive rumble echoed from far off, as if a building had collapsed—like an earthquake was shaking the ground.

I turned my head and saw a giant robot in the distance breaking apart piece by piece.

From the looks of it, Victor had smashed it.

A whistle slipped out of my mouth on instinct.

Has Victor already gotten that strong just from constant mods?

Looked like the job was done.

To see Victor’s face before heading home, I drew power from the blue-pulsing Hexa Core Ring in my chest.

At that moment, my enhanced hearing picked up something faint.

Tiny voices. Children’s voices, from deep underground beneath the cathedral.

My shift’s not over yet...

I sighed quietly, gave a regretful glance in Victor’s direction, and began walking toward the cathedral’s undercroft.

****

Fire burned where the giant robot had fallen.

Flames rose high into the sky—a funeral pyre, a liberation rite for the bodies and souls of the Machina Cult’s slaves.

In the age of Babel, cremation was the only form of burial.

No matter how massive, in a world where only one mega-city remained, turning the dead into smoke was considered the most beautiful farewell.

Maybe it was because the spires had stopped spewing black smoke, but the sky looked clearer than before.

The smoke rising from the flames no longer resembled polluted black clouds—just clean gray trails stretching straight into the sky.

Victor slowly inhaled and looked up at the smoke.

A bitter smile hovered on his lips.

The cult slaves had all died the moment they killed the Prophet.

Like they’d been clinging to life solely for that moment.

Scarlet had done a quick inspection and confirmed the cause of death.

Their brains had been overly sliced, and excessive implant use had fully destroyed their nervous systems.

The fact they’d been alive until now was close to a miracle.

Scarlet slowly walked over to Victor.

Normally a netwitch and an atheist, today her voice carried something emotional.

“I hope they all made it to heaven.”

“They did,” Victor said quietly, lowering his eyes.

Across the flames, 329 sat holding his little sister Iris in his arms.

Gone was the emptiness that had clung to his face for so long—replaced by a warmth.

A single tear slid down his cheek, but it wasn’t from sorrow.

Maybe thanks to his memory-assist implant, 329 had survived, unlike the other slaves.

Though his condition was still critical.

According to Scarlet’s diagnosis, his nervous system was heavily damaged. Many of his implants weren’t functioning properly.

But he was alive. That alone was a miracle.

The girl who seemed to be his sister had also survived.

Her entire body, save her brain, had been replaced by implants—she didn’t even breathe.

Scarlet had hooked her up to a biomonitor, and the readings showed Iris was in a far more stable condition than her brother.

On paper, she was healthy. But the long-term psychological impact of full-body cyberization? Still unknown.

Victor looked up again at the smoke rising through the flames.

Hope flickered in his eyes.

“If you’re alive, good days’ll come eventually.”

Victor muttered.

A phrase he’d repeated over and over as a child during his own fucked-up youth.

Just like back then, the spark of hope hadn’t gone out for this pair of siblings.

Just then, he heard 329 slowly stand, still holding Iris.

Victor turned to face them.

“Got anywhere to go?”

He asked.

329 paused, looked down at Iris, and replied.

“...Not yet. But as long as we’re together, I think anywhere’s fine.”

His speech was still broken, but it sounded a bit more natural than before.

“If you’ve got nowhere to go, how about coming with us? We’re heading back to the Seoul Office.”

Scarlet suggested.

“Amber’ll know how to help you.”

329 spaced out for a moment, then gave a faint nod.

A slight smile appeared on his face.

Just then, the sound of shuffling and approaching footsteps reached their ears.

Victor immediately checked the submachine gun in his hands and crouched down.

Scarlet activated her power armor’s weapon system and got into position.

“...Now that you mention it, I don’t hear A’s combat noises anymore.”

Victor muttered in a low voice.

The metal clashing and explosions they’d faintly heard before the chaos had completely vanished.

It could be a good sign—or a very bad one.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

The footsteps got closer.

They held their breath and waited.

A familiar silhouette emerged from the darkness.

White-haired girl, circuit patterns glowing faintly blue—A.

“A!”

Victor’s voice was filled with relief.

But his gaze quickly shifted to behind her.

Several children were following A.

They looked scared, but they were all intact.

Their clothes were filthy and torn.

Some had tear tracks dried on their cheeks, their eyes vacant.

But they were all walking on their own.

“Kids!”

Scarlet’s voice shook.

A radiant smile spread across her face.

She tore off her helmet, revealing herself.

The moment the kids saw her, they ran.

A small girl in front shouted first.

“Scarlet unni!”

The children swarmed her all at once, wrapping their arms around her.

Scarlet, wearing power armor, held them carefully.

“It’s okay now... You’re okay...”

Her voice trembled.

“I’m really glad you’re all safe.”

It was only then that the kids seemed to realize they were finally safe—and the tension snapped. They burst into tears.

The fear and sorrow they’d bottled up all came pouring out.

Scarlet turned to A and smiled.

“Thanks. Mission complete, A.”

****

The sun had dipped past the horizon of the Burning Duct, and neon signs began pushing back the darkness of night.

Blue and pink lights cast gentle waves across the floor from the windows of the Seoul Office.

Behind the front desk, Amber was waging a war of her own.

A war to find the being with the tiny palm.

She was tracking a micro-sized spy robot—or maybe a ghost—that had been appearing inside the office.

During ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) the hunt, Amber found all sorts of traces.

Tiny palm prints, small footprints, even round little belly imprints.

Those traces made her realize it wasn’t a spy robot.

It didn’t feel like it was hiding—more like it was leaving tracks on purpose. Like it was playing hide-and-seek.

To win this twisted game of hide-and-seek, Amber brought out the latest detection gear.

Heat sensors, vibration detectors, gravity scanners, and magnetic field analyzers.

She tried everything. The result was always the same.

Even when she reverse-calculated the vague distortion field to pinpoint a location, she couldn’t catch it—like a ghost with no physical form.

Still, by analyzing the data from all those sensors, Amber had found one clue.

<The field around ‘that thing’ isn’t magnetic, but it interacts with magnetic forces.>

That gave her the idea for a trap.

She set the trap on a shelf the thing frequently passed by.

A magnetic mine tuned to react to the faintest magnetic signatures.

Nickname: the ghost trap.

After setting the trap, Amber went about her routine.

Wiping glasses, turning on the TV, sorting documents.

But every sense she had was focused on that shelf.

Ten minutes... twenty... thirty...

How long had it been?

Pop!

A sharp noise, and a burst of blue light flared on the shelf.

Amber moved in the blink of an eye.

She grabbed the high-powered magnet she’d prepared and lunged toward the source of the sound.

“Gotcha!”

She slammed the magnet right where she’d predicted.

She couldn’t feel any weight—nothing stuck to the end—but Amber was sure.

She’d caught it.

Nooo!Nooo!Nooo!

A scream echoed—not in Amber’s ears, but in some deeper part of her brain.

The child tried to pry the magnet off its belly with both hands but gave up almost instantly and went limp.

Hehe...gotcaught.Hehe... got caught.Hehe...gotcaught.