*

“Huuh.”

Ga-On put down his practice sword and emerged from his past thoughts.

Memories that have now faded.

In this era, martial arts were merely efficient body movements.

Learning them was simple; downloading the martial art onto a device was all it took.

Although repetition and mastery were still necessary, the process was so condensed that it wasn't worth mentioning.

Despite the ease of access to martial arts, no one had reached its pinnacle.

No one even recognized any potential in it.

Humans simply didn't have the lifespan to achieve it.

It wasn't a matter of talent or environment, but lifespan.

However, Ga-On had an abundance of lifespan.

He was able to reach a level unattainable by humans because of the countless years he had lived.

Others might call it a futile goal, but he had already tasted a glimpse of it through an old man.

The ancient martial art Ga-On learned was one of the arts transmitted by Kumārajīva, known as the first Buddhist monk of China, to a few Lama monks.

Although it bore traces of antiquity, it wasn't a technique completed inland.

It had merely traveled along the Silk Road and entered Tibet by chance.

Its origin was in India.

The founder was Gautama Siddhartha.

Yes, what Ga-On inherited was the martial art that Buddha refined before his Nirvana.

However, no matter how impressive its history, it had lost its original form and name through oral transmission, leaving only remnants.

Regrettably, the swordsmanship Ga-On practiced could also be considered a derivative.

What he learned from the old man were basic and a few applied movements.

The concept of rotation was incorporated much later.

Whether it was correct was questionable.

When he split the rock, the old man hadn't rotated.

Of course, back then, he was young and inexperienced, so he might not have noticed even if he saw it.

In any case, uncovering that process would be his task moving forward.

And—

‘Meta Human.’

The secret he heard from Colin in the past instilled a sense of alertness in Ga-On.

Indeed, the Millennium Code and the city's government's fervor in pursuing him were irrational.

While he couldn't deny challenging their authority, it wasn't enough to justify spending hundreds of billions to chase him.

However, if they were pursuing a 'Meta Human' rather than a mere mortal, it made sense.

Although the fact that he was immortal hadn't been revealed, they might have vaguely guessed his abnormal regenerative abilities.

Or—

'Have they analyzed my swordsmanship too?'

In a way, failing to secure the sword this time could be considered a stroke of luck.

If a commonality with Yang Hu was discovered, the identity he painstakingly obtained could become a liability.

To become a true immortal, a grand narrative was necessary.

A narrative so grand that anyone would nod and not doubt it.

To construct that causality, it was only natural that he needed to establish his position quickly.

It remained unchanged that he had to carefully consider his future activities.

Ga-On quenched his thirst with an ion drink and wiped his forehead with a towel.

*

Despite the harsh conditions of needing a secret storage space for equipment, an emergency generator in the basement, and a yard for training, Sarah managed to find a property that met those requirements.

A small house located on the outskirts of Zone 32 was the evidence.

Of course, Ga-On had to scrape together a loan, even pulling from his soul, to pay for the effort—

"Not bad."

"What's not bad?"

"The house."

"You say that after seeing this mess?"

Sarah pointed with her index finger at a spot as if to prove a point.

As she indicated, disposable containers were piled like a mountain on the table.

Yet, Ga-On, unfazed, opened another lunchbox.

The contents were a colorless, odorless gelatin mass.

Inside it were only balanced nutrients.

Ga-On took out a patch included with the lunchbox and unhesitatingly placed it on his tongue.

The patch melted away, and a new function activated on his device almost simultaneously.

In an instant, the gelatin mass, which was supposed to have no taste, transformed into a premium bulgogi rice bowl.

Such a rich meal for just 800 pia.

It was truly a triumph of food engineering.

"Are you listening?"

"Yeah, I'm listening."

It was true that he hadn't cleaned due to focusing on his training.

But isn't this how most single men's lives are?

A free life like a beast roaming the wild.

In some ways, it could be considered a romantic lifestyle.

Although it seemed like a lie when Sarah suddenly volunteered as a housekeeper, visiting three times a week meant he couldn't truly rest.

"It seems Ga-On doesn't have the cleaning function installed," Sarah sighed as she put the towel Ga-On had carelessly thrown into the laundry basket.

"I just didn't do it because it was still fine."

"Trash."

"Hey, I think I heard something I can't overlook."

Ga-On murmured a protest, but Sarah ignored him and disappeared.

She reappeared shortly after, not with a laundry basket but with a cardboard box.

"A package has arrived."

"That was fast."

What he purchased wasn't much.

Just a few clothes and some medicines.

He wanted to buy a 'Blacksmith', a comprehensive sword management storage, but he couldn't afford it.

"You have a lot of junk but no protective gear.

The most important thing for a fixer is their life," Sarah remarked, and only then did Ga-On realize his mistake.

In truth, it was more accurate to say he had never considered it.

For the immortal Ga-On, protective gear was unnecessary.

Even if he suffered severe damage, his body would regenerate immediately.

It was only the protective gear that would break.

To put it bluntly, it was a waste of money.

However, having recently realized his identity, Ga-On couldn't help but reconsider.

“Now that you mention it, I do need that.”

“How could you forget something as crucial as your life? Is it already memory loss? Should you consider inserting a sub-brain?”

“I was thinking of getting cybernetics surgery.”

“You don’t have any money left, do you?”

Sarah didn’t want to know about others’ finances, but she had seen Ga-On sign the loan documents.

“But you have some, right?”

“Have you already forgotten? I spent all my money hiring you.”

“Aren’t you an employee? Don’t you get paid?”

At Ga-On’s shameless question, Sarah turned her head.

“Trash.”

*

When dusk fell and it grew dark, the first thing Ga-On noticed upon arriving in Zone 39 was the faded neon sign.

There was an augmented reality guideboard right in front, but it was flickering, indicating some issue.

It was clearly a rundown area.

The absence of a Hyperloop station nearby was a telltale sign.

The fact that one could only reach it on foot meant that without a specific purpose, one wouldn't come here.

As expected, as he entered the alley, a familiar scent brushed past his nose.

From afar, an indescribable sound echoed.

It sounded like a scream or the noise of machinery.

Either way, it was eerie, but to Ga-On, it felt cozy.

It was a unique atmosphere that enveloped him only when he stepped outside the bounds of the law.

He had spent his entire life in the shadows.

From Earth to Mars, the stage might have changed, but his accumulated instincts hadn't disappeared.

However, there was one unexpected variable.

'Meta Human.'

It was the reason he had decided to undergo cybernetics surgery.

He didn't want anything grand.

What he needed immediately was a hormone regulator.

He had heard of people who modified devices originally developed to assist with pituitary gland defects to constantly consume drugs.

By applying this, he could eliminate the hassle of finding and consuming nucleases.

As long as he didn't leave genetic information externally, he could evade most tracking.

But such requests couldn't be made legally.

Only illegal slots were the answer.

Using Sarah, or rather Maximum Noise's connections, he wouldn't have to go far, but he didn't want to indulge in the comfort provided by large corporations.

That was all a weakness.

Something that would eventually become a leash.

"Let's see."

Even though it was early evening, the streets were mostly deserted.

The only notable thing was that no one was walking alone.

Unfortunately, information about Zone 39 was limited.

Even scouring the internet only yielded vague place names.

There were no clear signboards or markers.

There wouldn't be anything openly discussed online, so everything must have been shared discreetly offline.

It seemed that only by becoming an insider could he learn the details.

There were various ways to infiltrate the underworld, but from Ga-On's experience, confronting it head-on was the best.

So he conspicuously wandered around, deliberately moving deeper into the area.

Hoping someone would follow him.

Whether his wish reached the heavens or not, by the time the patrol drones disappeared and people became scarce, an angry voice called out from behind.

“Hey, you in the coat, stop.”

Three people blocked his path. Judging by the multiple cybernetics surgeries they had undergone, their bodies emitted a dull metallic sheen. A man with a tattooed face stepped forward and spoke.

“Don’t recognize you.”

“Really? You look familiar to me.”

The man’s reaction to Ga-On’s casual response was to hesitate, but upon seeing his appearance, he relaxed. Clean limbs and a neat face. An impression that was largely untainted. It was a human pattern he encountered often.

“An aspiring fixer?”

“Since I’m unknown, I guess that’s what you’d call me.”

“Ha, this guy’s a nutcase.”

At the man’s words, the other two burst into laughter. The man seemed to gain confidence from their reaction and closed the distance, revealing his metallic teeth.

“So, are you here for some hands-on experience? Oh, I see, you’re thinking, ‘I have to handle requests in places like this from now on,’ huh?”

“No, I said you looked familiar.”

“From what I see, you look like you’re lost and wandering around. Haha, this place is strange. Every quarter, guys like you pour in.”

“I feel the same way. Even in the previous place, I paid attention to sorting waste, but the trash never seemed to decrease.”

The man’s voice dropped in an instant.

“Are you saying we’re the trash?”

“Think about it logically. If I wasn’t confident, I wouldn’t have come into such an alley.”

“Everyone says that until they get lead in their body.”

The man growled, pulling a gun from his coat.

“If you don’t want to die, hand over everything you have.”

*

“I-I made a mistake.”

Ga-On had spared only the man. There was no reason to have three mouths. “You seemed like a local from the way you threatened earlier. Is that right?”

“Y-yes.”

The man, glancing at his fallen comrades, answered Ga-On’s words with a startle. He hadn’t even seen how it started or ended. Only the broken wrist hinted at the previous encounter.

“Is there an unlicensed clinic nearby? I’d prefer if they were skilled.”

“I-I know a place.”