How to Live as an Immortal Chapter 003

Take Your Medicine

*

His forehead had clearly been pierced. But to rise again? What on earth was going on?

As one of the group started to back away, the young man shouted.

"You idiots, it's a slot!"

With cybernetic surgery, one could increase the strength of their musculoskeletal system. Perhaps they had even manipulated their genes. The possibilities were endless. It was by no means an illusion. It was simply one branch of evolution that humanity had pursued.

"It's good if you want to think of it that way."

A highly advanced society.

While it had become difficult to determine one's social status, it also became easier to conceal one's true nature. Because people interpreted and accepted things without needing explanations. That's why he had boldly revealed his true nature.

Bang! Bang!

Bullets were fired in quick succession right in front of him, but Shin dodged them head-on without even blinking.

A flawless duck.

In contrast, the young man's face was contorted beyond measure. Despite the misfire happening right before his eyes, it felt as if it had occurred somewhere far away.

That's how absurd the situation was.

But unfortunately, reality hit with a harsh jolt. Shin, who had suddenly closed in on him, delivered a spinning kick to his stomach.

An intense shock enveloped his entire body, making him feel like his insides were turning over, but the young man couldn't even fall down at will.

Because Shin had grabbed his hand and wouldn't let go.

"If you're going, you should at least leave this behind."

After roughly snatching the gun from the young man's grasp, Shin pulled the trigger, aiming at the two people running towards them.

Without even looking.

Bang, bang.

Only two bullets were spent.

No more, no less was needed. Before the gunshots had even faded, those following the young man had fallen backwards.

Violence so efficient it bordered on the grotesque. Faced with a situation he had never experienced before, the young man—

"How?"

Could only utter such a foolish question.

"Because time is all I have."

True to those words.

Shin, who neither aged nor died, had walked alongside human history for a long time. Sometimes as an observer, sometimes as a collaborator.

As time passed, civilization matured, but the human spirit still hadn't escaped from World War III.

Going round and round, what advanced technology had given birth to was an era of barbarism.

Life had become abundant, but daily existence had become desolate.

Learning martial arts was a necessity, if only to take care of oneself.

The most crucial thing was—

"Seeing trash like you makes my body twist. I'm not particularly interested in environmental beautification, but shouldn't you at least know how to sort your garbage?"

Threats and attempted theft.

One might protest that such punishment was too severe for those crimes, but that wasn't his concern.

"Let's see."

Shin took out 50,000 pia and put it in the young man's upper pocket.

"With this, the motive for the crime is established, and as for the weapon..."

Shin looked down at the gun pensively and smiled brightly.

"Here it is. Even if Striders like you die from a difference of opinion, no one will care."

Just as roughly as he had taken it, Shin shoved the gun back into the young man's hand. Then he placed his index finger on the trigger and aimed the muzzle at the young man's temple.

"No, I..."

I was just trying to scare you.

The young man who was about to spout a half-baked lie hesitated. Thinking about it, he had already pulled the trigger. There was no way excuses would work now.

Realizing that this wasn't someone from whom he could beg for mercy, the young man screamed.

"Let go! I said let go!"

Despite his struggles with all his weight, Shin's hand didn't budge an inch. The sensation of being pinned down as if by a vise turned the young man's struggle into something close to a seizure.

"You, do you know what will happen if our guys find out? All the Striders in this area will become your enemies. Think carefully. Or else..."

A repertoire that seemed to have been heard thousands, tens of thousands of times before. Shin looked down at the young man indifferently and passed judgment without inflection.

"Shut up and take your medicine."

Bang!

*

"Oh, Mr. Testosterone. Look at this, it's the rent you've been wanting so badly."

Shin pulled out an envelope nonchalantly and tilted his head.

Arnold's face looked unusual.

At any other time, he would have complained about being called by a nickname, but today his hardened expression showed no signs of softening.

"I went through all the trouble to get this, why such a reaction? What's wrong?"

Arnold, staring blankly at Shin's face, let out a low exclamation.

"Come to think of it, you said you were a fixer, right?"

"How did you know that?"

"Do you think it makes sense for a landlord not to know the occupation of someone who's lived here for 15 years?"

"I suppose not."

Despite his cold impression, Arnold was the kind-hearted owner who had provided a residence to Shin, whose identity was uncertain.

But that wasn't a reason to be complacent. He must have investigated in some way.

He must have accepted it because there were no particular flaws.

"So, do you want to make a request?"

To that, Arnold replied with a gloomy face.

"My nephew was bullied at school."

"That's quite a trivial reason."

Of course, he wasn't looking down on it. It just didn't seem to fit the serious atmosphere.

"I don't know if you're aware, but I specialize in revenge. I'm not some nanny who persuades people to listen."

"Don't worry, that's exactly why I called you. If you handle it smoothly, I'll make sure you never have to pay rent again for the rest of your life."

As if to say 'what do you mean by that,' Shin raised one eyebrow, and Arnold stood up from his seat.

"It's almost visiting time."

*

Binter was an ordinary student. Except for the fact that his parents died early, and his uncle Arnold took their place.

It was inconvenient, but not unfortunate.

At least that's what Binter sincerely thought.

Until he caught the eye of Gerald's gang.

"I hear you're the top student in the school. Pass around the answer sheet during tomorrow's midterm exam."

A few days before the incident, Gerald approached him. Making an absurd demand as if it were perfectly natural.

"Using devices for communication during exams is against school rules."

Binter retorted confidently, but it didn't work on Gerald.

"Are you going to do it or not?"

He even went so far as to call his gang over to pressure him.

"I'm asking you."

To this, Binter didn't respond and ignored him. He knew that if he cowered and acted flustered, he would only become prey.

He had also heard the rumors circulating in the school.

About how vicious and cruel Gerald was.

Because of that, he believed at the time that it was the best choice, but it soon turned out to be the worst outcome.

He was forcibly dragged to an abandoned factory.

If it had been Gerald alone, he might have been able to escape, but Gerald had his gang with him. With them coming at him from all directions, there was nothing Binter could do alone.

"You must have felt good, ignoring what I said. Yeah, to a model student like you, a thug like me is less than livestock, right? What's with that expression? Look down, before I gouge your eyes out."

Gerald's attitude had become even more vicious when Binter wasn't looking. To the point where he couldn't even protest.

"If I can't take the exam, you can't either. That's fair, isn't it? Hey, grab him."

"What, what are you doing?"

"Teaching you a lesson."

What followed was a merciless beating. Though they seemed accustomed to violence and were quite fierce, Binter resisted without giving in.

"You dare look down on me? Just because you study a bit?"

Come to think of it, wasn't Gerald's dream to become a 'public investigator'? He must be doing this to get high grades.

But knowing his intentions didn't mean he could overcome this predicament.

"Fuck, just get a diploma and stick a sub-brain in your head later, that's all you need. You don't need to stupidly memorize things! You little pauper, you think you're so great just because you know a few letters?"

Far from being filled with resentment, he seemed to have grown even more. In some ways, he appeared to be engrossed in it.

"Die, just die!"

"Ugh."

Binter darted away as soon as he saw an opening, but he was soon caught by Gerald. After all, his gang was outside the factory too.

"So you're not giving in to this, huh?"

Was it because he had tried to escape once?

The situation spiraled out of control.

Being dragged in front of the cutter used for molding was part of that escalation.

"Well, how about this?"

A rusty saw blade and a lumpy body.

It was a chilling sight, but Binter tried hard to suppress his pounding heart. It was clear that this factory had been without power for a long time.

There's no way it could work.

The moment he asserted this to himself, catastrophe struck.

*

Even Shin accustomed to such incidents couldn't help but be appalled after hearing Binter's story.

If we're talking about school violence, it usually consisted mainly of beatings. Anything beyond that was beyond what could be called a prank.

"This is, quite severe."

What was visible were two legs of unequal length. It was easy to guess that coercive methods had been employed. Inhumane means as well.

Arnold, gritting his molars, turned his escaping breath into words.

"They say it wasn't intentional."

"Bullshit."

It was such a pathetic excuse that such a response came out reflexively.

"What about reattachment surgery?"

"They say it's impossible."

It was frightening to even ask how it had been cut off.

If one were to ask whether Binter should live like this, the answer would obviously be NO. After all, modern medical technology had long surpassed human understanding.

Cultivating body parts or obtaining prosthetic legs wasn't difficult.

Yes, if only there was money to buy them.

Though it was a world where a basic income system was implemented, that was only to guarantee the minimum dignity as a human being, not to promise vast wealth. Luxury goods and non-essentials could still only be obtained through labor.

Shin let out a sigh.

"I understand this isn't a simple case. But isn't this under the jurisdiction of the public security?"

Special assault and organized crime, the charges that could be brought against Gerald were overflowing.

Arnold, with slumped shoulders, clenched his fist.

"Protesting to the school was meaningless. The public security was the same."

"Why?"

It was an incident of this magnitude. There's no way it wouldn't make the news. It would have been wise to reach an agreement before the issue blew up.

The answer came not from Arnold, but from Binter.

"Because that guy's brother is a security officer."

"So that's why you came to me."

Security officer.

It was a position that could only be obtained by those who had served in public security for more than 10 years. Of course, it required corresponding achievements. Less than 10% of investigators become security officers.

In other words, the elite of the elite.

For ordinary people, it was no different from a disaster.

"What do you want?"

"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Can you teach him how I felt?"

The direction of the request was so clear that Arnold couldn't help but open his mouth. For Gerald to suffer as much as Binter meant—

"Wait, Binter. We agreed, didn't we? To make the request within reasonable limits."

"I can't do that. The idea that a victim should be considerate of the perpetrator and avoid them?"

The two stared at each other silently for a while. Not because they had nothing to say, but because they had too much.

It was Shin who broke the silence that hung over the gathering.

"That's right.”