Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 52: Puppet (6)

Silence settled over the smoke-choked underground parking garage.

The blue-glowing blade vanished from my hand, and I exhaled deeply, the weight of fatigue catching up with me.

The battle against the man's puppet army was over, but the strange call still lingered in the back of my mind.

Those blue eyes that had stared at me from the dark—and that voice, dripping with arrogance—they wouldn't leave my thoughts.

Whoever that was, they were clearly connected to MK Corporation.

And they spoke like they knew me.

"Everywhere and nowhere..."

I mulled over their words as I contacted Blake through the AR interface.

"You can come down now. It’s over."

A few moments later, I heard cautious footsteps approaching the entrance.

Blake emerged, gun raised, eyes scanning the scene with suspicion.

The moment he saw the carnage inside the garage, the color drained from his face.

"This is... all of them..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. His gaze swept across the bodies littering the floor.

Hundreds of corpses. It looked like a slaughterhouse.

"Find the evidence first. We have to clear William's name."

I snapped him back to focus.

For a second, Blake stood frozen, but he quickly shook it off and nodded.

Professional instinct kicked in. He pulled out a portable scanner and began meticulously examining the floor, the walls, the condition of the bodies—recording everything.

Meanwhile, I headed for the ice cream truck parked in the corner of the garage.

That must be the device he was using.

Inside the truck, a massive machine was bolted into place.

It looked almost like a giant speaker.

An integrated transmission unit—mass-produced a hundred years ago by Songpa Connect.

Meaning, the orange wave wasn’t generated internally; the device was just a receiver, pulling the signal from somewhere else.

At least, that’s what my memory told me.

Sure enough, faint on the machine’s surface, the old Songpa Connect logo was still visible.

"The core must ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) be with those blue-eyed bastards."

I muttered under my breath.

Those blue-eyed figures who appeared at the end—there was no doubt they were behind this.

But right now, there was no way to chase them.

Who the hell are they?

Old executives from MK Corporation? MK-related remnants? AIs?

They mentioned "a hundred years ago"—it had to be tied to MK.

When Amber comes back, I need her to dig into these blue-eyed freaks.

If I wanted to track down MK, finding them was the first step.

Further inspection of the truck revealed a small terminal wired into the back.

Blake was already on it, combing through its encrypted data with a grim expression.

I walked up to "I," pointing toward the AI frame.

"Can you help again?"

"I" tilted their head, followed my gesture, then nodded.

They dove into the terminal without hesitation.

A few moments later, Blake’s terminal lit up with restored data—and my own AR interface began displaying files.

It was a chat log.

[Approach the subject and establish trust. Proceed with wave exposure experiments. Don't forget to log neural responses.]

[Select experimental subjects from slum residents with weak social connections. No need to touch the Quantum Rock personnel yet.]

[Mercenaries and police are tracking you. Your location has been compromised. Evacuate immediately.]

The chat logs were full of directives from the blue-eyed ones.

Horrific experiments on the poor, progress reports, and, at the end, orders to flee.

But the man had ignored the warning—and waited for me.

Weird. But not incomprehensible.

He’d already seemed half-crazy when we met.

Considering the flashes of orange light in his eyes, it was likely a side effect of whatever ability he used to control people.

The later entries in the chat log grew increasingly defiant. The man had been slipping, mentally.

That’s when Blake’s urgent voice cut through.

"I found something! A, look at this!"

He rushed over, shoving the terminal in front of me with a trembling hand.

On the screen, more of the recovered chat logs:

[William Officer Disposal Plan: Completed analysis of psychological weaknesses. Preparing for mental contamination and evidence manipulation using 'orange wave.' Scheduled execution date....]

A detailed record of the plot to frame William.

Everything we needed to clear his name.

Given that the whole point of the job was to prove William’s innocence—mission basically accomplished.

There would still be endless bureaucratic checks ahead, but that was Blake’s and the BPD’s problem, not mine.

"Finally... finally, we can clear William."

Blake’s eyes welled up.

He drew a shaky breath, struggling to pull himself together.

"Let’s head topside. There might be more clues left above ground."

We left the ruined garage and started searching the abandoned resort buildings above.

As expected, there wasn’t much left.

We found scattered corpses—puppets who had served as surveillance units.

With the controller dead, they had simply... stopped.

Their nervous systems had been completely fried, brain and all. Once the puppeteer died, so did they.

After finishing the sweep, we climbed into Blake’s vehicle and headed back toward the Burning Duct.

The entire ride, Blake practically vibrated with energy.

"Once this case is closed, I swear I'll track down whoever’s behind this—whether it’s MK Corp or someone pretending to be them."

His determination was admirable, but it made me uneasy.

"You really shouldn’t. It’s way more dangerous than you think."

"Don’t worry. I’ll be careful."

"Careful’s not enough. If MK’s involved—the real MK—you can’t even scratch at it. Don’t."

But Blake didn’t budge.

He genuinely wanted to bring justice back to Babel.

That’s when a new notification popped up on my AR interface.

A message from Amber.

[A, sorry for not getting in touch for so long. I had something urgent. If you have time, could you and "I" drop by the office?]

Finally—Amber.

Relief mixed with curiosity.

What the hell happened while she was gone?

****

Jingle.

The familiar chime greeted me as I pushed open the door to the Seoul office.

Tap tap tap.

A moment later, I heard the sound of Agwi scampering through the small gap in the doorway.

The office was still bathed in that same faint blue neon glow, with an old fan lazily stirring the stale air.

Amber was sitting behind the counter.

She looked a little more worn out than usual, but when she saw me, she managed a faint smile.

"Welcome back, A."

I dropped into the chair in front of the counter with a thud.

"I" leapt off my shoulder and immediately began exploring the floor.

"What happened?" I asked.

Amber gave a sheepish smile and scratched the back of her head.

"Sorry. I got caught up trying to find a gift for 'I.' Didn’t have time to reach out."

[Gift!]

At the mention of the word, "I" perked up, throwing their tiny hands into the air with an ecstatic look.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

"A gift?"

"Yeah. You know that coating agent that lets 'I' touch things? The old one wore off too fast. I found a version that lasts much longer."

Amber pulled out a small case from under the counter, proudly presenting it like a treasure.

The case was smooth, black metal, etched with intricate circuit patterns.

Even at a glance, it screamed high-grade tech.

Something you’d expect to see in a megacorp lab.

Don’t tell me she broke into a megacorp to steal this.

Maybe that’s why she’d been out of contact.

I kept the thought to myself.

Amber opened the case and revealed several tiny vials, each filled with shimmering liquids of different colors.

"Come here, 'I.'"

Amber called into the air.

"I" zipped over, delighted.

Amber sprinkled some powder on the floor to pinpoint their position, then dipped a brush into a vial of rosy pink liquid and gently extended it toward "I."

Without hesitation, "I" held out a tiny hand.

Amber carefully painted the pink solution onto their palm.

The liquid dried almost instantly, tinting their skin a soft, translucent pink.

"I" stared at their newly colored hand in fascination, then giggled and poked my arm.

I could feel it—the same solid, tangible pressure as when they used the old coating agent.

"What color do you like best?" Amber asked, holding up the other vials.

"Hmm... anything but gray. That looks too aggressive."

While I mulled it over seriously, "I" had already begun smearing different colors across their entire body.

Blue. Gold. Gray...

With every new hue, "I" gleefully ran up to Agwi to show off.

Paff! Paff!

"I" jabbed their multicolored fists into Agwi’s round belly.

Agwi let out a grumpy "Kyuhinghing," but it didn’t seem like he minded.

That’s when the TV in the corner of the office suddenly caught our attention—its volume spiking at just the right moment.

[Hexa Core Armory held an official unveiling today for their groundbreaking new implant technology, "Circle." This innovation is expected to—]

Both Amber and I turned to the screen.

Hexa Core’s logo pulsed across the broadcast in flashy brilliance, and soon a figure stepped onto the stage.

A woman with cold eyes, visible even through her crimson-tinted sunglasses.

"Good afternoon. I'm Rina Cortez, here to present Hexa Core Armory’s latest achievement."

Strangely, as I stared at her, it looked like a flicker of blue shimmered behind those red glasses.