Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 50: Puppet (4)

The coastline straddling the eastern and northern districts was once one of Earth’s most beautiful tourist destinations.

Before the Great Convergence, it was known for its soft white sands and warm sunlight—a place swarmed with visitors year-round.

But that beauty was long gone.

Blackened seawater had slowly devoured the shoreline, and the once-luxurious resorts had crumbled into a slum drowned in darkness.

Drugged-out addicts wandered the streets like ghosts, and gangs waged turf wars over the ruins.

Even so, the climate remained mild—making it a haven for those exiled from the heart of Babel.

But tonight, something was different.

The alleys were eerily silent. Gone were the sounds of brawls, drug deals, and drunken shouting. Silence hung heavy in the air, as if noise itself had ceased to exist.

A man walked through the deserted streets in absolute stillness.

Dressed in an unremarkable gray suit, his presence carried something unsettling.

His straight nose and neatly trimmed beard seemed almost artificial—like he couldn’t fully control the expressions on his face. A faint unnatural twitch passed over his features.

“I’ve cleaned things up enough. No way the cops’ll bother me now.”

A smile slowly spread across his face—but it hardened, warping into something grotesque.

His pupils now burned with a chilling orange glow.

“They’re too scared. ‘Don’t draw attention,’ they say... but if you’ve got enough power to take down a Megacorp exec, sitting around like a docile idiot is even dumber, isn’t it?”

Muttering to himself, the man suddenly stopped and clutched his head with both hands.

A wave of pain hit—thick beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his breathing grew ragged.

He stayed like that for a long time, writhing—then abruptly, his face went calm again, as if nothing had happened.

“Well... I guess I should be grateful. Their cowardice gave me this opportunity, didn’t it?”

His voice echoed down the empty street like a ghost.

Suddenly, he glanced around—someone was watching.

Or at least, it felt like someone was watching. But there was no one in sight.

The man resumed walking and headed into the basement parking garage of a nearby building.

What waited inside was shocking.

Dozens of people stood like mannequins, filling the space wall to wall.

Except for the rhythmic motion of breathing, they didn’t move at all.

There were homeless people, gang members, office workers—even cops.

Up close, their eyes faintly glowed with that same orange light.

It looked like a cursed version of the Terracotta Army.

The man strolled between them, visibly pleased.

As he passed, the mannequins slowly turned their heads to follow him—then returned to their original positions.

Past that human wall, a plain refrigerated van—like the kind used to deliver ice cream—sat parked.

At first glance, it was just a standard freezer truck. But inside it housed a bizarre device that resembled a massive speaker.

Faintly etched into its surface were the words: Songpa Connect.

The man dropped into a beat-up office chair and grumbled.

“This new hideout sucks.”

Then, once again, his face twisted in pain.

His pupils flared orange, and his body trembled violently.

When the convulsions finally subsided, he casually wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“If it weren’t for William, I’d still be relaxing in my cozy slum base.”

He spoke in a calm voice.

Then his eyes drifted off—clearly lost in thought.

The name “William” sparked something.

He remembered.

Back when William had been on his tail, the fear had been real.

Above all, it was his insight that scared him.

Even after scrubbing away almost every trace, William had still managed to uncover pieces.

To pinpoint someone’s location from a single scrap of debris—he’d never realized just how relentless a determined cop could be.

“But in the end, I won.”

The man chuckled softly.

Luckily, he’d managed to take control of William before being fully exposed.

He’d successfully framed him—and killed him.

Shot dead by the bullet of an oblivious fellow officer.

Just remembering that moment brought a smile to his lips.

“I gotta admit, I liked the name he gave me. Puppet Strings. Kinda elegant, don’t you think?”

He turned his gaze to the equipment inside the truck and grinned darkly.

The device was terrifying—capable of hijacking a human’s neural implant and seizing control of the brain.

Truthfully, he didn’t have the skills to build something like that.

He’d just received the machine—and instructions on how to use it—from the ones known only as them.

In exchange, a promised future. A throne in the world they would soon rule.

All they asked in return was simple: test the device. Use it on as many different people as possible.

As far as the man could tell, this was a performance test.

At first, he’d been scared to mess with some mysterious machine. But that fear had long since vanished.

What he didn’t know... was that the test wasn’t just about the device.

As the orange glow deepened in his pupils and he smiled with satisfaction, a camera watched him silently.

From the edge of that camera’s lens... [N O V E L I G H T] a faint blue light flickered.

****

The moment shadows spread beneath our feet, Blake and I were sucked into them.

Leaping from shadow to shadow like stepping stones, we reappeared on the opposite side of the Quantum Rock facility—past the front gate.

Blake dropped to one knee, gasping for breath.

His face was pale. His eyes wide with disbelief.

“What the hell... was that...?”

His voice trailed off.

The wail of sirens still echoed in his ears—reminding him we weren’t out of danger yet.

They were getting closer.

“We need to hide. Now.”

Blake and I quickly ducked into an abandoned building nearby.

From between broken glass and crumbling bricks, we had a clear view of the factory.

“You’re... incredible.”

There was real awe in Blake’s voice.

I gave a small smile at his compliment and pulled a few shards from my pocket.

They were the only things I’d managed to grab from inside the factory.

“This is all I got.”

I laid out several small memory shards on my palm. Blake’s eyes lit up.

They were visual data recorders—standard issue for Quantum Rock employees. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Most corporate workers wore them for performance review or security auditing.

“These are... employee visual record shards.”

Blake’s voice trembled with excitement.

He hurriedly pulled a portable analysis terminal from inside his coat.

As he inserted the first shard, the screen lit up—then immediately went pitch black.

There was data. But it had been completely overwritten.

He went through the others one by one. Same result.

Every shard... blacked out.

He sighed deeply.

“As expected, it’s definitely tied to that organization. All of William’s CCTV footage was wiped just like this.”

I let out a quiet breath of surprise.

This was the kind of large-scale data tampering only a Megacorp could pull off.

Hearing Blake talk about them used to feel like paranoia. Now it was starting to feel a little too real.

The real issue was figuring out how to crack these black screens.

Standard recovery software wouldn’t cut it.

As I pondered, one idea surfaced in my mind.

Back in the MK Corp days, even the dumb versions of myself could bypass security with ease.

“Let me give it a try.”

While Blake stared at me with a puzzled expression, I called for I in my mind.

And with a soft pop, I burst into view in front of me.

[?]

They appeared in a mid-run pose, like they’d been sprinting a moment ago, glancing around in confusion.

“Can you restore that black screen?”

I furrowed their brow—oddly serious—and stared at the display.

After thinking for a while, they suddenly beamed and nodded vigorously.

[I can do it!]

Their confidence made me smile too.

“Alright. Give it a shot.”

With my permission, I dove straight into the terminal display.

In an instant, the entire screen filled with I’s face and a loading window.

“What...?”

Blake’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden change on the monitor.

“They’re removing the black screen,” I explained casually.

He nodded, though his face still looked stunned as he glanced back and forth between the loading display and me.

Once loading completed, I got to work.

They created a cushion shaped like Agwi and started scrubbing the black screen with it.

Mecha-Agwi, who’d been watching nearby, looked utterly shocked at the sight of the cushion.

Blake also froze at the sight of I inside the screen.

“That’s... on the screen...”

His voice was laced with disbelief.

He forced himself to stay calm and studied the image more closely, then spoke again.

“That’s... quite the unusual method.”

He looked like someone watching a merc use a hacking tool shaped exactly like themselves—way too much personality.

Looks like I, when they directly intervene in AI frames, can be seen by others too...

That thought crossed my mind just as a familiar “Kyuhinghing” rang from the device.

Each time the cushion squeaked, the black veil peeled back a little more.

And not long after, the original video came into full view.

Having finished their task, I popped out of the terminal and puffed out their chest proudly.

Their expression radiated smug satisfaction.

“Nice work,” I said.

I laughed brightly, grinning with pride.

Blake stared at the restored footage, still stunned.

He manipulated the screen with his fingers, checking the video from multiple angles.

“This is solid evidence,” he said, voice trembling with excitement.

His attention zoomed in on one vehicle moving past the factory.

“Look at this truck.”

He enlarged the image.

It looked like an ordinary ice cream van at first glance.

“That same vehicle shows up at every crime scene.”

Blake showed me footage from the other restored shards too.

Sure enough, the same ice cream truck had been spotted at multiple locations.

“It’s time to track that vehicle,” I said.

Blake nodded.

His expression now held a sense of relief—like he’d finally found a lead. And hope. Hope that he could finally clear his partner’s name.

****

The dark underground parking garage was thick with damp, heavy air.

A dim fluorescent light flickered weakly overhead, casting a sickly glow, while grime built up over years streaked the walls and ceiling like abstract stains.

Puddles scattered across the concrete floor reflected the light in jagged glimmers.

Slouched in a worn-out office chair, the man wore a satisfied smile.

Even in the darkness, he could clearly see Rina Cortez—now returned to Hexa Core Armory—through his AR display. He let out a low chuckle.

His grin was full of ambition and greed, his fingers trembling slightly.

“It’s almost ready. Just a little more... just a little more...”

His mutter dissolved into the moist air, returning as a faint echo.

Just then, a pale blue light began to leak out of the terminal on the desk beside him.

He hesitated briefly—then grabbed the terminal in a hurry.

The light grew more intense.

A short message popped up on the screen.

[The mercenary and the cop are tracking you. Your location has been compromised. Escape immediately.]

The grin vanished from the man’s face in an instant.

He read the message over and over, eyes wide.

This was the first time they had sent him a warning since the William incident.

The terminal in his hand powered off by itself, going black.

Faintly engraved on the back of the device, barely visible in the dark—

was the logo of MK Corp.