Supporting Characters in the Game are Obsessed – Chapter 4

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Simzy
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Neon City can be broadly classified into three zones:

First, the Upper Level, the Platinum Zone, where the victors of capitalism reside.

Second, the Mid Level, the Business Zone, where the relatively ordinary middle class lives and is famous for housing the central business district, Center Plaza.

And lastly, the Lower Level, the Citizen Zone, where more citizens than the upper and mid levels combined live together in a mix.

There were also underground levels and sewer zones, treated as dungeons in the game, but that’s not important right now.

Naturally, as you descend from the upper to the lower levels, the Safety Level decreases, and inversely, the NCPD (Neon City Police Department) corruption rate, as surveyed by NCB24, increases.

Among the most dangerous areas in the lower level, one place stands out: East Beverly.

At this point, someone new to Neon City might have a question.

It wasn’t close to Cloud Park, the center of urban pollution and endless factories demonstrating urban sprawl.

It was also far from the city’s outer landfill, where homeless people easily gathered.

And it was distant from Redwood, Chinatown, and Little Shinjuku, which were known for gang activity.

So why was East Beverly considered the most dangerous area in the lower level?

The reason was simple.

It was because of a certain bar located right in the heart of the area.

The pub, No Answer.

Commonly known as the gathering place for hopeless cases.

A brokerage exchange frequented by many freelance mercenaries. A place where mayflies, filled with dreams and hopes, gathered.

And now, it was my meeting place.

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“I don’t want to go in.”

[I advise against such action.]

“I know, I know. I was talking to myself.”

I let out a deep sigh, realizing how often I’d been sighing lately.

I didn’t know why they called me.

I just wanted to go home.

I inwardly grumbled at my friend who (forcibly) set up the meeting.

I looked up.

At first glance, it was just an old building.

But a strange heat emanated from it, palpable even from outside.

Thump— Thump—.

A faint vibration and barely audible music drifted out.

I glanced around.

Hmm.

Three orc thugs hiding in the alley.

Several drug-addled scavengers, likely organ thieves, in the alley across the street.

A few suspicious individuals on the rooftops of nearby buildings, seemingly monitoring the front of the bar.

Hoping for a lucky day.

For mercenaries, their equipment and bodies were their assets.

Even rookie mercenaries often carried valuable equipment (and organs).

This was closely related to the frequent disappearances of drunk, careless mercenaries around here.

It happened more often than you’d think.

Not newsworthy, just a common occurrence.

It wasn’t even a laughing matter in this area.

It meant that many new mercenaries came to Neon City seeking dreams and hopes…
…and many also disappeared without a trace.

The bar and other brokers occasionally organized cleanups…

…but it was like trying to get rid of bugs that kept coming back to feed. They had half-given up on extermination.

There was also the argument that it was the fault of the careless mercenaries.

Another reason was that those hiding in the alleys were mostly mayflies, not affiliated with any particular gang or organization.

Gangs of any significant size rarely came near this bar.

They knew that they risked getting shot or stabbed by the mercenaries lurking around.
They had no need to take on the risk of coming here.

Besides them, there were a few more mercenaries loitering and huddled around the building.

Despite their rough appearances, their smiles were bright.

They probably received referrals from other brokers and had just earned the right to enter “No Answer.”

Their naive smiles made them look like walking chicks.

Though they looked a bit scary for chicks.

And finally, a mercenary with his arms crossed guarded the entrance of No Answer.

The scene was the same, day or night.

Now that I’d calmed down a bit…

I slowly approached the front entrance of No Answer.

A burly orc mercenary, Smith, tipped up his black sunglasses with a finger.

Small text and images flickered inside – standard cyberpunk smart lenses.

“Well, well, long time no see, Mr. Shun.”

“I’ve told you countless times, it’s Shiun.”

“Doesn’t your ID say Shun?”

“…That’s true, but…”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Few people in Neon City pronounced my name correctly.

Maybe because there were so many people of Chinese and Japanese descent.

It didn’t take long for my name, “Lee Shiun,” to become “Shun Li.”

I clearly enunciated “Lee Shiun” when I got my ID, but when I came to my senses, I had undergone a Chinese-style forced name change.

The sorrow of a Korean who lost his country…
…is beyond words.

Smith, the security mercenary for No Answer, was a rare “normal orc mercenary” in Neon City.

It might be a stereotype, but there weren’t many orcs with legitimate jobs.

They usually engaged in “illegal activities” for income instead of legitimate work.

Smith had even undergone a procedure to file down his tusks, so at a glance, you might mistake him for a different race.

This was especially unusual considering that most orcs flaunted their tusks.

And some even embedded LED devices in them to create “glowing tusks.”

“How have you been?”

“Same as always.”

“I heard rumors in the pub that Yoo Seong’s been looking for you.”

“…That’s why I’m here.”

How did a rumor about him looking for me even start?

The sudden news about my old friend (and the person I was meeting) made my vision darken.

‘More strange rumors are going to spread.’

Seeing me sigh deeply, Smith grinned.

His filed-down tusks, visible within his smiling mouth, asserted his presence.

It was a slightly discriminatory thought, but orcs being orcs…

It made him look even more unsavory.

Was that why he was a security guard?

He exuded an aura that kept most riff raff from approaching.

A 2-meter tall orc…

Even I would be respectful.

“Oh, then you should hurry inside. The boss was looking for you too. It’s just that he’s not here right now…”

“Is that so?”

That’s a relief.

I swallowed the rest of my sentence.

I walked past Smith, who slightly shifted to make way, and entered.

A short, or long, depending on how you looked at it, hallway greeted me.

Dozens of cameras monitored the entire hallway.

It was a passage you had to go through to enter.

I had been here often enough to be used to it.

Without hesitation, I walked through the hallway and entered No Answer.

The atmosphere inside was the complete opposite of the quiet outside.

That’s why the music could be heard faintly from outside.

In a word…

A club?

It was filled with a chaotic atmosphere.

Laser beams and dark lights reflected and shone everywhere, while loud pop music blared throughout the first floor.

[Detecting 90 to 100 decibels. I assess this location as objectively loud.]

“It’s really loud.”

Even in this noisy environment, Eve’s voice was crystal clear.

It was only natural since it was only in my head.

[I question the feasibility of conducting brokerage operations in such a cacophony.]

“There’s a quiet area in the corner. And I heard they intentionally made the first floor like this for rookie mercenaries to network.”

[I acknowledge.]

Honestly, I didn’t know for sure.

I rarely spent time on the first floor. Even in the past, I went straight to the second floor with my friend.

I used to frequent this place in the game because of the numerous quests and events…

…but it was too much for me now that the game had become reality.

The extroverted vibes were too overwhelming.

‘This place is as chaotic as ever.’

I needed to get to the second floor quickly.

I headed towards the elevator.

There were no stairs in this building. The only way to move between floors was the single elevator.

Since there was only one, there was no chance of getting lost.

Even though I tried to walk carefully, avoiding the mercenaries, I couldn’t avoid attracting some attention.

Think of a scene from a Western cowboy movie.

When a new person enters, everyone stops what they’re doing and silently watches the newcomer. It was the same principle.

Unlike those cowboy movies, not everyone was staring at me. But anyone who passed by, without exception, stole glances at me.

…This is the first floor, alright.

They said they were “stealing glances,” but…

It was practically the same as staring openly.

It was incredibly obvious.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened.

I didn’t pay attention to every glance.

There wouldn’t be anyone on the first floor who knew me anyway. Maybe the bartender at most?

I kept moving.

As I approached the elevator, the atmosphere changed slightly.

It became a bit quieter compared to the surrounding area.

Everyone on the first floor was either near the entrance, the stage, or at the bar.

This was the difference between the first and second floors.

Honestly, anyone with a mercenary tag could enter the first floor.

From the second floor up, only those who could be called true professional mercenaries were allowed.

There was a reason for the different atmosphere.

In the mercenary world, it was said that only those who could reach the second floor of No Answer were considered real mercenaries.
And I was lucky to have a good friend.

[At 7 o’clock. An unidentified individual within my database is discussing the human “Lee Shiun,” I relay.]

“Huh?”

I responded softly.

Was there someone here talking about me?

[Shall I amplify the audio, I await your command.]

“Hmm, sure. Why not?”

[Playing and amplifying the recorded audio within the database.]

What was it about?

Soon, the voices of two men could be heard.

[Hey, hey, look over there. Someone’s going to the second floor.]

[I’ve never seen them before. Who are they?]

[I wonder? If they’re going to the second floor, they must be famous, right?]

[Ah— that guy. The lucky mercenary with good connections. The one with the supposedly bad temper.]

[Ah… the one you were envious of last time? While some of us are stuck toiling on the first floor. I’m jealous.]

[They say he’s a mage. A mage. Ha… I’m really envious. Even a mage… I cease audio playback.]

It wasn’t unexpected.

Typical gossip.

“Hmm.”

[Shall I terminate them?]

No, no.

“No, terminate who? They didn’t even say it to my face.”

[I concede, my phrasing was inadequate. Shall I cease their life signs?]

“Just leave them. They’re not the only ones like that.”

I was used to it.

That’s what it meant to be a mage in this world.

There was a reason I didn’t see many of them when I played the game.

…I’d probably do the same.

Just shoot a gun. Who would bother studying hard to use magic?

In this cyberpunk world, magic was…
…a dying art.

The shattered perception of mages was unavoidable.

Plus, I had a famous friend.

I was in a position to be easily criticized.

“Why are you getting angry?”

[This AI has yet to acquire such emotions, I respond.]

“Really?”

Whatever.

I boarded the elevator that had just arrived.

“But come to think of it, how could you even do anything even if you wanted to? You’re not connected to any network besides me.”

[…….]

“…You can’t, right?”

[…….]

Why aren’t you answering?

That’s creepy.

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