Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 45: Golden Murdock (8)

As I slowly turned the handle, the door creaked open with a long, high-pitched screech that echoed through the hallway.

Strangely, the cherry blossom scent that had been seeping through the door weakened the more it opened.

And when the door fully swung wide, what lay before me wasn’t what I’d expected at all.

A neatly decorated reception room.

Soft fluorescent lights bathed the space in a gentle glow. A faint floral air freshener tickled the edge of my nose.

The pastel-toned wallpaper was decorated with rainbows, clouds, and tiny birds. The rounded furniture gave the room a warm, cozy feeling.

The floor was tiled with colorful puzzle mats, and on one side of the room, children’s storybooks were stacked neatly.

It looked more like a daycare or a kindergarten classroom than anything else.

In the center of the room, a large monitor had been installed, and within it, a small white bird fluttered its wings as it floated about.

Its round eyes and soft feathers moved so vividly, it was hard to believe it wasn’t alive.

In front of the monitor sat a young female researcher.

Her hair was neatly tied back, and she wore a white lab coat. A bright smile lit up her face.

“Cute, right? This cushion?”

She held up a round cushion shaped like the white bird toward the monitor, smiling affectionately.

Made from soft fabric, the plush looked almost identical to the bird on the screen.

Black button eyes, a tiny beak, wings tinged with blue.

The entire scene was peaceful—absurdly so, for an Erosion Zone.

It felt like time had frozen. Or like someone’s fantasy had been physically manifested.

Almost unconsciously, I reached out and touched the researcher’s shoulder.

BZZZZT.

In an instant, the world shattered in a burst of horrific noise.

The gentle light from the fluorescent lamps flickered out, plunging the room into thick darkness.

The sweet scent in the air twisted into something cold—metallic. Blood.

The pastel wallpaper had been charred black, only burn marks and soot remaining. Deep gouges scarred the walls.

The rounded furniture had been stomped and smashed beyond recognition.

The once-cozy sofa sagged in the middle, riddled with dozens of bullet holes.

And scattered across the floor were dark red stains.

Blood, unmistakably.

In a single instant, the warm room had turned into a cold, cursed ruin.

As if a catastrophe had swept through, leaving nothing behind but aftermath.

I took a deep breath and walked slowly toward the ruined sofa.

There, the white bird cushion lay in pieces.

What was once a cute plush had been ripped open by something sharp—its belly torn, and the white stuffing spilling out like organs.

Half of it was soaked in blood. The other half remained white.

As if it had been dipped in blood and yanked out again.

“So you’re the AI that became this Erosion Zone.”

I murmured the words, staring down at the cushion.

“I” sat on my shoulder, shielding their eyes with both hands, not wanting to see any of it.

I took one last look at the torn plush—then turned.

Toward the place where the Erosion was strongest.

Past the massive monitor, into the space packed with AI frames.

****

The room filled with AI frames was warped to hell.

Even without knowing what it had originally looked like, the distortion was obvious.

It stretched impossibly wide—as if the walls had been pulled into infinity.

Originally, rows of shelves would’ve held countless AI frames. Now?

The frames were twisted into spirals, rising like skeletal metal trees pointing toward the ceiling.

‘?’

Strangely, I thought I could see faint cherry blossoms blooming across the grotesque metal branches.

And in the very center of those warped metal trees... a woman.

She was leaning against a shelf of AI frames, her body slumped, face pale.

Motionless—as if in eternal sleep.

The AI frames closest to her were even more twisted, forming a cradle-like shape around her.

At her side sat a massive construct.

Still. Silent. As if guarding her.

In truth, it didn’t resemble the white bird at all—except in its round shape.

Its flesh was warped and transparent, revealing the mess inside.

Its eyes and beak were gone.

Only a faint, flickering light leaked out from its ruined core.

And yet... it still felt like the white bird.

I held my breath and stepped forward carefully.

I had no clue what kind of power this thing might have.

The smaller constructs I’d encountered until now barely fought—just shambled forward and tried to headbutt me with mindless hostility.

But something this big... this presence... wasn’t about to headbutt anyone.

Maybe it was like the cherry blossom path—a projection-type? Showing illusions?

Or maybe, judging by the extreme space distortion in this room, it had abilities tied to the environment.

Still, the construct’s next action caught me off guard.

It didn’t attack.

It simply stood.

And °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° lowered its head toward me.

As if... asking to be killed.

“...Alright.”

I plunged the glowing blue blade—charged with energy—straight into its core.

FLASH.

A burst of blue light surged from within, and the construct slowly began to crumble.

Its disintegrating black fragments turned into pink cherry blossom petals and scattered into the air.

Once all of it had dispersed, something was left on the floor.

A dried, brittle branch—and a tiny, faint white bird.

It couldn’t open its eyes properly. Couldn’t fly.

It trembled as it slowly made its way forward.

Toward the woman in the center of the room.

The white bird climbed into her open hand.

And smiled.

Like someone coming home after a long, long journey.

Then, slowly, the bird turned to light.

It didn’t move again.

As if it wanted to feel her warmth for just one more second before vanishing completely.

****

The highway toward northern Babel was drowned in shadow.

The neon signs and holograms of Eastern Babel’s glamor had long since disappeared behind them.

Only the occasional flicker of distant skyscrapers still peeked out from the rear horizon.

Golden Murdock leaned comfortably in the back seat of a vehicle as it sped through the dark.

His golden suit and the implants fused to his skin shimmered faintly, even in the car’s dim interior.

“Boss, should we just keep heading north like this?”

The driver glanced at Murdock through the rearview mirror, nervousness written all over his face.

Murdock responded with a calm voice.

“Yes. North is better. Titan Tech’s influence is weaker there.”

“But, sir... wouldn’t it be safer to take the outermost route? We could completely bypass the megacorp surveillance grid...”

Murdock smiled softly.

Adjusting his golden monocle, he said,

“The outermost edge? That’s not for people like us. Nobody knows what lies beyond Babel’s borders. Try to avoid pursuit and you might end up walking into something worse.”

His voice brimmed with confidence.

He believed Titan Tech’s tracking wouldn’t outmatch his mind.

He finished speaking and activated the AR interface.

Flicking his finger through the air, he opened his contact list.

Hundreds of names bloomed before him like a holographic constellation.

“I’m about to get busy. Don’t interrupt.”

He scrolled swiftly through the list—then tapped the first name.

“Black Viper? It’s been a while. Yeah, it’s me—Golden Murdock.”

The call connected, and just like that, his voice shifted—bright, energetic, already deep in conversation.

“I’ll give you a heads-up. Titan Tech is hunting down all mercenaries who’ve done business with me. You’re probably on their list too. It’d be smart to lay low in the East for a while.”

Murdock listened quietly to the voice on the other end for a moment, then spoke again.

“Yeah, your safety comes first. I’m not saying this out of guilt—it’s just business. We’ve worked together for a long time.”

As soon as the call ended, Murdock dialed the next number.

“Raven? It’s Golden Murdock. Titan Tech is combing through my contacts—mercs included. Best if you vanish from the East for a while.”

And like that, for a full hour, Murdock didn’t stop calling.

To each mercenary, he passed along the same warning. His voice grew wearier with every call.

Once the final call ended, he exhaled a deep, tired sigh.

“Phew. That should cover most of them.”

His subordinate, still focused on the road, glanced at him through the rearview and cautiously asked,

“Uh... Murdock, sir...”

Before he could finish, Murdock cut him off.

“You want to ask why I warned the mercs about a possible Titan Tech hit?”

“!”

The subordinate blinked in surprise and gave a small nod.

Murdock casually opened a sleek metal case and pulled out a thick cigar as he explained.

“If everyone connected to me starts moving and making noise, it becomes that much harder to track me down.”

He snipped the end of the cigar with precision and kept talking.

“Plus, staying in touch like this means I can do business again if I return to the East in a few years. Business is all about keeping your network alive.”

He lit the cigar with a golden lighter, took a slow draw, then exhaled, letting the smoke fill the cabin with a luxurious scent.

“The truth is, those mercs I just called? They’re not even decent bait. Just minnows. The real bait is that pizza freak. I dropped 250,000 credits on them—hoping they last a bit longer...”

His subordinate tilted his head slightly.

“You think way too highly of the Pizza Maniac, sir. Isn’t that just some weirdo in a full-body cyber rig?”

Murdock chuckled as he exhaled another ribbon of smoke.

“Ever seen a name like ‘Pizza Maniac’ travel from the Burning Ducts all the way to the East?”

“No, not really. Usually the names that spread are scary ones, like ‘Smasher’ or something.”

“Exactly. Most names get around because of carnage. But when a goofy nickname like ‘Pizza Maniac’ sticks? That’s way more dangerous. People laugh it off—but that’s the point.”

Murdock tapped the ash off the cigar and continued.

“And that shady Amber going out of her way to protect them? Yeah, that one’s hiding something. I’m sure of it.”

The car’s shadow stretched long across the road as it sped forward—until suddenly, Murdock’s AR interface chimed.

He glanced at the caller—and his eyes widened.

“What? Bain’s calling me? After all that crap he pulled? The nerve...”

He muttered through clenched teeth, but his face quickly shifted.

An elegant smile slid into place as he accepted the call.

Still alive, huh? Lucky bastard. Bain... and me, too.

Murdock’s eyes sharpened.

If he could use Bain as bait too, that’d be even better.

“Bain, you made it. That’s a relief!”

But oddly, no reply came.

Only the crackling of static filled his ears.

The smile faded from Murdock’s lips.

His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

“End call.”

He gave the command.

But the AR interface didn’t respond.

The call wouldn’t disconnect.

Then suddenly—

A gust of wind slammed down onto the roof of the vehicle, shaking the entire car.

A blinding searchlight pierced the dark, illuminating the car from above.

The thunder of an aircraft roared past.

And then, through the AR call screen, a heavy voice cut through the static.

[Murdock. So this is where you’ve been hiding.]

Murdock’s face went pale.

He recognized that voice instantly.

“...Dominic...”

Before he could even speak the name aloud, a black shadow fell from the sky.

THUD!

A monstrous impact tore through the roof of the vehicle—Dominic Krylov had landed.

The black mist swirling around his body churned like a living beast.

The car spun out of control, veering into the side of the highway with a crash.

Dominic’s shadowy face reflected in Murdock’s once-golden implants.

The confident smirk that had defined Murdock was gone.

Only desperate survival instincts remained.

SCREECH.

The car skidded, scraping across the pavement—

and the escape of Golden Murdock came to its bitter, brutal end.