A room so small it couldn’t even be 2 square meters.
That place was Duju No. 38, or rather, Joseon’s workspace.
To be honest, it was less of a workspace and more like a punishment.
From the moment she woke up until she fell asleep, she had to operate and monitor Duju No. 38, the automaton connected to her.
It wouldn’t be so bad if the meals were decent.
But today, her tray was filled with Myeongsoon-fried and Haebim-so.
Still, today was a particularly lucky day.
Usually assigned to patrol the desolate outskirts of the border, she had been extended to a surveillance mission in the city center after encountering a stranger.
Thanks to that, she got to stroll the streets, see handsome men, and feast her eyes on exotic and provocative outfits.
“Haah.”
But the more she indulged, the more her sense of lack grew rather than satisfaction.
A deep sigh escaped Joseon’s lips.
In the Great Hwan Empire, upon turning 18, men were obligated to fulfill “production duties” for two years, while women had to perform “surveillance duties” for the same period.
Despite the advancements in Hwan-dan engineering, there were limits to what automatons could replace.
Men were either conscripted to work in various factories or, if physically exceptional, drafted as soldiers.
Women, like Joseon, had to become the eyes and ears of the nation.
At first, Joseon didn’t feel much resentment about this.
That was until she overheard the 1st Princess advocating for “natural human rights” in front of the Emperor.
“Humans exist before the state.”
What a heart-stirring statement…!
From that moment, Joseon became an ardent follower of the 1st Princess.
Not just because she still had over a year left in her service, but because she was captivated by the ideology itself.
And now.
“Denial. That cannot be an excuse. If you cannot prove your identity, the emergency protocol will── huh…?”
It was unfortunate for her dear friend Ellis, but reporting suspicious individuals came with rewards, so she was about to submit the surveillance footage when a strange message appeared before her eyes.
[Secretly guide the group of outsiders who passed through immigration to the Charity Hall. This is an order from Her Highness the 1st Princess. Destroy this message immediately upon reading.]
“Uh…”
Joseon’s brain froze for a moment, then began working more furiously than ever.
The Charity Hall was the residence of the 1st Princess.
No wonder they used unfamiliar items to prove their identity—they must be people the Princess wanted to keep under wraps!
Click.
After pressing the incineration button to erase the evidence from the database, Joseon cleared her throat and spoke in a tone as mechanical as possible.
* * *
Tap, tap.
As Renatel quietly drew her sword, aiming it at the back of Duju No. 38, seemingly ready to resort to violence to overcome this crisis, I quickly racked my brain.
The angel on my shoulder, wearing Johanna’s face, whispered:
– Hey, Acshappi. I believe in you. Don’t abandon your comrades. Let’s overcome this hardship together through destruction and war.
The devil on my shoulder, wearing Ellis’s face, whispered:
– Hey, Acshappi. I believe in you. Don’t abandon your comrades. Let’s get through this crisis with deception and lies.
Both the angel and the devil were useless.
…If things go south later, the most rational thing would be to tie up the heroes and Renatel and sell them out, saying, “They did it!”
Just as I was having such wicked thoughts.
《If you cannot prove your identity, the emergency protocol will── huh…?》
“?”
Suddenly, the atmosphere around Duju No. 38 changed.
Its voice, which had been a modulated mechanical tone, briefly shifted to a clear, feminine voice.
Swoosh!
Just as Renatel’s sword was about to slice Duju No. 38 in half,
《The policy has been revised. This Duju No. 38 will exercise flexibility and overlook the existence of the handsome man’s ‘friends.’ Friends are important. ……What does that gesture mean?》
Thud.
As I raised my hand, Renatel’s sword stopped just inches above Duju No. 38’s head (presumably).
That was close—I almost lost a friend.
Trying my best to keep a cheerful smile on my face,
“Friends are great, right?”
“Ufufu. Friends, friends.”
Ellis chimed in at the weirdest moment.
Our new friend offered us plenty of advice.
《Your exhibitionist friend, bookworm friend, giggly friend, and beastkin friend cannot come along. Their identities are unknown. If you encounter another Duju, you’ll be reported again. That would be troublesome.》
“Huh? I thought it was resolved?”
《Half-correct. It can be fully resolved if you accompany this Duju No. 38. Until then, your four friends are illegal aliens. They cannot move through normal channels.》
Illegal aliens, huh.
Not entirely wrong, but the phrasing feels a bit off…
《Therefore, we’ll find a workaround. The Silk Road Train has a cargo car. You’ll board as cargo.》
“Pfft──”
The moment I imagined the heroes crammed into a tiny box, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
This is the classic third-country illegal entry route, isn’t it?
Ari, Johanna, and Saha’s faces all twisted in unison.
What can you do?
It’s your job.
Take it like a champ.
“Who’s the beastkin you’re talking about, meow?”
Rumi’s voice pointed out something we’d overlooked.
Come to think of it, both of them freely moved between Party 1 and Party 2, so does that mean the standard is Rumi, who initially entered with Party 1?
《Regrettably, in the Great Hwan Empire, beastkin cannot be distinguished by appearance except for dragonkin. All beastkin are the same.》
“……?”
That sounds like a racist remark akin to saying, “All Asians look the same.”
Is it okay for an empire with an Eastern background to have such a narrow-minded perspective?
Shouldn’t this be under “Great Hwan Empire/Controversies/Racial Discrimination”?
“Hey, Ark…? I’m really tired…”
Renatel hesitated, giving me a pleading look, but
Thwack!
Rumi’s tail naturally smacked my butt.
…Her tail slaps hurt too…
The sword is far, but the tail is near, so there’s nothing I can do.
Apologizing to Renatel in my heart,
“Here, the dog-eared beastkin with a flower on her ear will accompany Duju No. 38.”
Thwack! Thwack!
Rumi’s tail gently smacked my butt again, while Renatel’s tail dropped so low it almost dragged on the ground, her ears similarly drooping.
* * *
“Oh my, Renatel. Did you not like us?”
“I’m deeply disappointed, Renatel. I thought we were comrades who sparred together.”
“N-no, it’s not that…”
As I listened to Johanna and Saha grill Renatel,
I sat in a quiet, secluded café, sipping on an iced sikhye that reminded me of home.
Even in this bizarre cyberpunk-Joseon fusion setting, there are some good things.
Though I’ve reached Cooking Level 5, I’ve never tried making this kind of Korean dish.
Well.
There’s no recipe in the game.
And I don’t have one in my head either.
If I knew I’d be possessing someone, I should’ve gotten a Korean cooking license.
“Here, one more sikhye, please.”
《Order received. One sikhye. Confirmed. Payment is upfront.》
I handed the local currency to the robot-server and calmly checked my smartphone.
There were still about 40 minutes left until the 3-star clear, and the same amount of time until the train’s departure.
Once Ellis and Duju No. 38 returned from buying a large cargo box, we’d pack our heroes neatly into the cargo car, and that would be it.
The 3-star clear condition was clearly designed around boarding the train right on time.
At this point, the game is more of a system remnant, and the clear conditions might as well be entirely reconfigured.
Honestly, how many boss fights have I cheated by now?
Originally, the fight against Neb should’ve been a chaotic ninja war with all sorts of beastkin resurrected, barking and howling in a furry all-star battle, but it was neatly skipped, wasn’t it?
I wish I could cheese the 25th floor too.
And the 30th, 40th, 50th floors…
What would I do if I cheesed them all?
“Were you waiting~?”
“Ugh.”
“Wow…”
Ellis’s cheerful voice.
And her shocking visuals stunned me.
Not only was she effortlessly pulling a massive cart, her midriff tantalizingly exposed, but the cargo on the cart immediately caught my eye.
An essential item in Eastern folklore.
A coffin.
……No way.
“Fufu. The Great Hwan Empire has many fascinating artifacts, doesn’t it? Among them is something called a ‘love doll’—mechanical women designed to ease men’s loneliness. This is their storage box. Perfect, right?”
……?
Wait.
Not a coffin.
But a love doll package…?
This is insane.
“Ugh. It’s more comfortable than I thought.”
“Hmm, it feels a bit weird though…”
“At least this way, I can repay the favor.”
“Kiiing…”
Seeing the heroes obediently lying down in the love doll cases, hands folded, without any resistance,
No, not love doll cases.
Those are traditional funeral items—coffins…!
“Ark? Shouldn’t we get going?”
“……Just a second, just a second……”
This is insane……
This damn game, this damn country.
I hope it all goes to hell.
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