Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 48: Puppet (2)

As the special-purpose vehicle exited the sandstorm-ridden ruins of the Burning Duct, Blake let out a quiet sigh of relief.

A sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly out the window at the silhouette of the wasteland fading into the distance.

Her white hair, flowing softly over her shoulders, caught the faint neon light outside and shimmered gently.

“Kyuhing-hing.”

The black plush doll in her lap let out a strange little noise as it shifted slightly.

A absentmindedly fidgeted with the doll, clearly trying to stave off boredom.

Blake couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

Why had she brought that doll? And why was she tormenting it?

Once they fully escaped the storm zone, the familiar scenery of the outer edges of the Burning Duct came into view.

Steam and light billowing from the far-off ducts.

Dozens of mercs outfitted with combat implants, moving through shadowed alleyways.

It was the kind of landscape that defined the Burning Duct—mercenary territory through and through.

Then, suddenly, A turned her head and asked Blake a question.

“Where are we going?”

Blake gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as he replied.

“Our destination is East Sector C-88.”

A’s brow furrowed slightly.

“The slums up north in the Eastern District?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Hearing that, A silently turned her gaze back to the window.

Her eyes traced the scenery drifting past the glass.

Blake guided the vehicle onto a quieter outer road.

Every so often, he checked the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed.

They didn’t even know who the enemy was yet, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Fortunately, there were no signs of trouble so far.

Relaxing slightly, Blake glanced over at A.

She still wore that pensive, unreadable expression as she toyed with the plush doll.

Famous mercenary or not, she probably had a lot on her mind.

Looking at her now, Blake felt a strange sense of relief.

Thank god...

He’d known full well that his offered payment was far too low before even approaching her.

He’d already tried several mercs in the Eastern District. All had turned him down.

But that was all he could afford.

He probably wouldn’t even be able to pay rent after this, but Blake didn’t care.

If it meant getting rid of one more evil from Babel and clearing his partner’s name, he was fine living at the station for a while.

Still, not a single merc had agreed to help him.

Just when his resolve was about to collapse, he’d been lucky enough to meet a righteous one.

To think someone like her still exists in Babel...

Blake glanced at A again, struck by admiration.

She had refused him at first, just like all the others—but the moment he revealed the group’s true identity, her entire attitude shifted.

It wasn’t about credits anymore. It was about something higher—justice.

The instant she understood the scope of that group’s evil, she accepted the job.

Blake couldn’t believe someone like her existed in real life.

The car continued down the dark road.

The landscape changed again—ruined buildings, desolate land.

This was one of Babel’s neglected corners, far from any megacorp’s concern.

Trash and discarded junk scattered in the wind, creating a bleak, eerie atmosphere.

“Something feels off. It’s... too quiet.”

Blake muttered as he stepped out of the vehicle.

****

Phew, finally done...

As the car stopped and Blake got out, I put the final touches on the creation I’d been working on to kill time.

The Mecha-Agwi-Pizza, built out of longing for the pizza I’d left behind in my Burning Duct studio.

“Kyuhing-hing.”

The mecha-Agwi twitched slightly, emitting a soft sound.

Honestly? It looked more like a plate than a pizza.

Still, I felt weirdly proud.

There’s just something fulfilling about making art, y’know?

Hehe.

Except the little HELP display on Agwi’s belly was now covered in strange digits.

I had no idea what they meant.

I thought about it for, like, one second... and then got bored, set Agwi down on the ground, and stepped out of the car with Blake.

The plate-shaped Agwi waddled after me awkwardly. It was kinda cute, but now wasn’t the time to focus on that.

“So this is East Sector C-88, huh?”

I muttered to myself.

But hardly anyone actually called this place “C-88.”

In the Burning Duct, people just said “northern slums of the East.”

Babel’s official administrative districts were purely symbolic, useless in daily life.

The borders were all weird spirals and tangled cross-sections—no one used them.

Ding.

Then a mail alert pinged on my AR interface.

I checked quickly, hoping it might be from Amber—but disappointment hit me instantly.

‒ <[Babel Welfare Department] Your citizen account has been temporarily suspended. Restoration requires credits.>

‒ <Mom! My good little sibling is sick. Send credits please.>

‒ <I’m currently being held by cyber-goblins. Please, help me.>

Just more phishing scams.

These kinds of scam mails had been exploding in number lately.

Threats, impersonations, phishing, ads...

Things like “I found the secret to immortality,” or “I’m being detained by a megacorp—pay my bail and I’ll reward you.” Completely bonkers stuff.

While I had the interface open, I sighed and sent a short message to Amber: Contact me when you can.

Then I shut the interface.

The slums we followed Blake into were just as bleak as I expected.

Totally different from the rest of Babel.

No neon signs—just flickering incandescent bulbs.

No flashy holograms—just torn posters pasted across walls.

After some walking, Blake finally stopped in front of a crumbling building.

He opened a small, rusted iron door and stepped inside.

Inside was a man—Blake’s informant—sitting in an old chair, wrapped in a blanket.

An outdated eye implant flickered sporadically, and he greeted [N O V E L I G H T] us with unfocused pupils.

His eyes looked like they didn’t function properly.

He couldn’t focus, and it didn’t even seem like he noticed I was there.

“Long time no see, Mouse.”

“Yeah. Blake.”

The two exchanged a short greeting.

“Why isn’t there anyone out on the streets?”

When Blake asked, Mouse glanced around cautiously before lowering his voice.

“There’s been a weird sickness going around lately. The kind that makes people go insane.”

“How insane are we talking?”

Mouse’s eyes darted nervously.

Watching him, I started to feel something was off.

His eyes were moving way too fast, and his fingers kept twitching in strange, unnatural directions as he spoke.

Deep in his pupils, a faint orange light flickered on and off.

“They foam at the mouth, start convulsing, sometimes go berserk and attack the people around them. No one knows what’s causing it or how it spreads. Some say it’s the AI Frame network. Others blame a new designer drug...”

Mouse lowered his voice even more.

“But I think it’s because of something else. That thing that moved into the area—Quantum Rock.”

****

The Crisis Control Center at Hexa Core Armory’s main headquarters looked like the entire universe’s data had been compressed into a single space.

Surrounding holographic displays streamed real-time information from across all of Babel, never stopping for even a second.

Waterfalls of light cascaded from ceiling to floor, and analysts bustled back and forth within it.

At the center of all this chaos stood Rina Cortez.

Her red sunglasses caught the ambient blue of the holograms and shimmered violet.

“Play it.”

At her short command, the central hologram zoomed in.

A wave of news feeds burst forth—each one related to the disappearance of the Erosion Zone.

[Confirmation of total disappearance of the supermassive Erosion Zone previously located on the Eastern and Southern border of Babel. This marks the first naturally resolved Erosion Zone in Babel history and has completely upended existing scientific theories.]

The anchor’s excited voice rang out from her AR interface.

The first ever recorded disappearance of an Erosion Zone in Babel’s history.

The news anchor’s shrill delivery triggered a memory buried deep in her mind.

“Pull up the Circle Project archive—‘Needle Brain Operation.’”

A string of old failure logs appeared immediately.

<Operation Name: Needle Brain> – Project Director: Rina Cortez <Objectives> – Forced activation of an Erosion Zone and observation of resulting waves. – Measurement of AI Frame mutations and collection of samples.

<Assigned Agents: Cus Wayne, Leanne Taylor>

<Operation Results> – Status: Failure – Agents: Both Missing – Equipment: Lost – No Erosion Zone emergence – No physical trace at site – Self-improving AI used in operation: untraceable

Looking at the data, a hypothesis rose in her mind.

What if the entity that erased the current Erosion Zone... also erased the one in the Circle Project?

But thinking about it now was pointless.

Too much time had passed.

Rina exited the control center and made her way to her private office.

As the door closed behind her, her AI assistant chimed in.

[Rina. Quantum Rock has submitted a request for support.]

At the same time, a file popped up in her AR interface—data regarding the request.

Quantum Rock was under attack by Netwitch.

<Quantum Rock Support Request Report> <Incident Summary> – Quantum Rock’s C-88 facility is under a large-scale cyber-neural attack from an unidentified Netwitch group. – The attack is confirmed to involve direct biological interference through neural implants. <Observed Symptoms> – Involuntary muscle spasms and tremors – Uncontrollable finger movement – Loss of ocular motor control (rapid ocular tremors) – Seizure-like symptoms in some cases – Sudden aggression and impulse control loss – Paranoia and severe psychosis – Visual implant glow: orange <Facility Status> – Estimated 9% of workers infected – Failed to locate Netwitch agents – Failed to block further attacks <Follow-Up> – This report will be updated every 6 hours based on developments.

As she read through the data, Rina’s expression grew serious.

Quantum Rock C-88... that’s the facility that supplies Hexa Core Armory with neural implant processors...

But by the time she finished the report, her expression had lightened.

Still, that’s a relief. If it’s a Netwitch problem, I can handle it quickly.

Rina Cortez was a pretty damn skilled Netwitch herself.

“VERA, prep a personal air vehicle. Destination is Quantum Rock, C-88 plant.”

The AI assistant replied in a smooth voice.

[Rina, that region is currently classified as Safety Level D. Minimum escort of two security personnel is required for entry.]

“I know the regulations. D-level can be overridden in emergencies.”

[Understood. The vehicle will be ready in five minutes.]

Rina stood by the window, waiting for her transport.

The night sky over Babel sparkled with a thousand neon signs and holograms.