Chapter 4: The Human Boy of Punk City Part 3

After finishing a dinner where synthetic meat was once again served as a side dish, they were treated to French fries as a late-night snack.

The kids eagerly devoured the fries, happy to have a snack for the first time in a while.

“Hmm… I feel like I’m going to gain weight,”

Sonia mumbled, glancing between the fries and her belly.

Her words came across as a cute complaint to Amon.

During the growth phase, no matter how much you eat, it’s fine.

That was Amon’s belief.

Besides, with Sonia’s body type, she didn’t need to worry about obesity from just this.

Her belly fat tended to accumulate a bit higher up…

“Enough.”

Amon stopped his thoughts from wandering.

He placed more fries on Sonia’s plate and grabbed a handful for himself as well.

The potatoes in the fries were real potatoes.

Although there was a bit of genetic modification, as far as Amon knew, there were no side effects.

That’s why French fries were one of the few foods in this world that he could eat with peace of mind.

“Munch munch.”

Sonia also picked up one or two fries, and soon forgot her worries about gaining weight, happily munching away.

Even though most of the money they had earned yesterday and today was spent, Amon felt satisfied.

Seeing the kids enjoy the food this much made every cent worth it.

He finished off the last crumbs, ensuring nothing went to waste, and wrapped up the late-night snack session.

Chika chika.

After snack time, it was time to sleep.

Amon stood in front of the sink, brushing his teeth, reflecting on the day.

***

“Shooting reported near Howard Side. That makes it a week straight. Gangs haven’t changed much in 50 years.”

Although he was now spending his days in an orphanage, he was well aware of where he had been reincarnated.

And he knew the reason why.

To see and enjoy as much as he could in this wider world.

And, if possible, to become a legend.

If he were to put it in terms of a game, his goal was to achieve his own true ending.

The objective might seem vague, but the image in his mind was quite clear.

Every day, without fail, he gathered information in preparation for the day he would dive into this world.

What was the current era of this world, where was he, and how were the power structures laid out?

And, in this situation, what area should he venture into?

Even the delivery jobs he took, despite their mediocre pay, were partly for safety and partly for information gathering.

Based on the information he had gathered so far, one thing was clear: he had been reincarnated in the United States.

The time period was 50 years after the ending of Punk City 3.

Punk City assigns numbers to its series based on different time periods, so technically, Amon was living through Punk City 4 in real time.

In this world, which was 50 years after the events of Punk City 3, a lot had changed.

First, the dizzying neon signs were still around.

Well, to be exact, the times had advanced, and instead of neon, they were now mass-produced LED screens, but it was basically the same thing.

The depressing city, where money took precedence over human rights, and the paper tiger that was the law enforcement—those were still unchanged.

However, the sky had gotten a little clearer.

Not because corporations suddenly grew a conscience and started using eco-friendly fuel and materials, but because a more efficient, less polluting energy source had been discovered.

This new renewable energy was called “Entity.”

There were countless terms used to refer to these beings, such as ghosts, cryptids, creatures, and paranormal phenomena, but the standard term was “Entity.”

When Amon learned of this, he felt chills all over his body.

“So, they finally did it…”

In this crazy world, even supernatural phenomena were now being monetized.

For example, if you secured the endlessly walking red shoes and the infinite staircase, and then combined them to power a generator, what would you get?

Wow! Perpetual motion!

In this era, it was taken for granted that they would execute an idea even Satan would bow down to.

“Is the genre cyberpunk… or no, since there’s magic and genetic engineering too, maybe fusion punk?”

Amon briefly wondered if it should be called eco-punk because of the use of renewable energy, but immediately dismissed the thought.

After all, exploiting paranormal phenomena and urban legends to run generators and calling it “eco-friendly” was a bit… off.

It felt weird.

So, he settled on calling it a sort of fusion punk.

At its core, it was cyberpunk, with a sprinkle of magic, a dash of genetic engineering, and a pinch of urban style.

That was the world he found himself in.

The location of the orphanage was completely different from the setting of Punk City 3.

But he had expected that.

The setting had changed in each of Punk City’s previous titles—1, 2, and 3.

However, news about the protagonists from previous games still made the rounds.

The true endings of each series had such a massive impact that they turned the course of world history upside down.

In this world, the true ending of Punk City 3 was canon.

But, in addition to the true ending, there were traces of other endings as well.

“Perhaps it’s a mix of things that don’t contradict the true ending.”

As an example, there exists an ending that completely changed the gang’s principles.

The execution gun… exists!!!

It was a legendary gang that was executed by a large corporation in California 50 years ago, and their cries were broadcast live.

After that execution, gangs that remained in the area began to search for the treasure, traveling all across the United States.

Their reach expanded so much that the gang “Children of the Serpent,” which Jimmy recently joined, came to the city where Amon was.

The ending that marked the era of the great gangs is titled “The One and Only Treasure.“

Surprisingly, this is not a true ending but a normal ending.

In addition, other normal or bad endings occasionally surfaced.

In other words, this world is a combination of multiple endings.

‘Perhaps each ending of the third installment represents the lives of different people.’

So, whenever he had a chance, Amon rummaged through newspapers and history books to find these endings.

Which ending is the official one, and which is the unofficial one?

That was the information Amon was collecting.

Thanks to a decade of information gathering, he had almost organized this aspect completely.

“RRRRRRRR~ To!”

After finishing the definition of the worldview and historical organization, Amon spat out the mouthwash and recalled the weapons he possessed.

For now, he had no knowledge of the future.

The era he was living in had not yet been released as a game.

However, he possessed more extensive knowledge of the past than anyone else.

While a person can only live in one timeline at a time, Amon’s mind was filled with information from numerous parallel worlds due to his many reincarnations.

Moreover, he had knowledge of forgotten pasts and even secrets of the world that were not visible on the surface, all known in the form of settings.

He had no doubt that this was his weapon.

Yet, there was a downside.

‘It’s unfortunate that, at least in terms of proficiency, I can’t use game mechanics…’

Hoping that he might be able to gain proficiency like in a game, he attempted various things.

He spun around in place to increase his endurance stat and tried hitting a dummy with a steel pipe to boost his swordsmanship proficiency.

And he reached a conclusion.

This is reality.

Not a simulation or a game, but true reality.

Gaining proficiency like in games was impossible.

Opening the status was also impossible.

However, in the process of confirming this, he did gain some insights.

‘The talent system definitely exists.’

While he couldn’t check it on a screen like in a game, nor could he allocate stats directly at birth, he was sure of it.

The talent system existed in a way similar to games.

Amon left the washroom and headed to his bedroom, recalling the setup of the talent stats.

According to the tradition of Punk City, he could allocate talent stats when creating a character.

Talents could receive proficiency adjustments in specific routes or skill trees and significantly impact the high points.

Of course, even if he started with a particular talent, it wouldn’t determine the game’s outcome.

If he invested enough time or searched for opportunities, he could surpass the talent and break through high points.

But Amon had no hobby of taking the long way when an easy path was available.

He preferred the more efficient option.

Because of this, he had been trying to find his talent over the past ten years.

He made a list of all the talents that appeared from the first to the third installment, checking each one and eliminating them one by one.

One thing was certain: he had a high charm stat.

At least 40% of the people he met for the first time were friendly to him.

‘This alone makes life a lot easier.’

Although one might wonder what use a high charm stat has, it was surprisingly essential, as even in games, it wasn’t the highest stat but should at least meet the minimum requirements.

It was a stat.

If, by any chance, the charm stat were low, even if he hadn’t done anything wrong, all sorts of unfair criticisms would come flying in.

“You seem a bit suspicious. I’m going to pretend we never agreed to cooperate.”

The NPC that I should have been cooperating with suddenly became moody.

“This is the original price, you know. Go check another shop. See what they’ll give you. Tch!”

The merchant seemed ready to swindle at every opportunity.

“Wait a second. Don’t come any closer. Stop right there and don’t follow me.”

If the charm stat is zero, one might be polite for about 10% of the time, but 90% of the time, if eyes meet, they’ll draw weapons and be on guard.

In fact, if it even drops into the negatives, there are events where one is dragged off to the police station without doing anything. (It doesn’t matter what your skin color is.)

Especially during time-out quests, being dragged to the police station could mean failing the quest and heading straight for a bad ending, so the charm stat had to be at least a minimum.

However, if someone isn’t interested in the story and just wants to cause a ruckus, they could intentionally set their charm stat low.

Conversely, one could set their appearance to look like a bizarre creature and raise their charm stat high, turning the genre into comedy.

“Ah… I don’t miss it, dear X-ray development expert.”

If the bizarre purple monster’s charm stat is maxed out, everyone will fall in love with that purple monster.

Watching it on screen is hilariously funny, so Amon always allocated max charm when creating bizarre characters.

Of course, charm wouldn’t apply like it does in games in reality, and even so, he wouldn’t want to be born as a purple monster.

Anyway, leaving a checkmark in the charm section, Amon’s talent list didn’t increase in checkmarks afterward.

He didn’t have much talent in the magic category.

His skills in rhetoric or incitement weren’t great either, and he wasn’t particularly talented in crafting.

By the process of elimination, those areas were crossed out.

He hadn’t been able to test hacking yet, so it was on hold.

What remained were weapons and firearms.

And the day to check them was fast approaching.

Tomorrow.

He planned to check his talents.

“Let’s get to bed early today.”

He stopped his thoughts and pulled up the blanket.

It would be a big deal if he shot while dozing off.

A day passed, and finally, it was the day Amon had been waiting for.

Thanksgiving.

The American Chuseok.

A day filled with delicious food and fun activities overflowing in the streets!

Nothing like that existed.

With my own nose to deal with, if there’s a festival overflowing with goodwill in the streets, it would be punk.

Thanksgiving in cyberpunk meant a day when citizens opened their wallets a bit more cheerfully and corporations wore a mask of goodwill to exploit people a bit more.

Still, it wasn’t a completely hollow day.

Thanksgiving featured Black Friday sales and special events.

Amon was eyeing this.

What money does an orphanage have to buy guns or knives for its kids?

Because of this, Amon had never been able to check whether he had talent for guns or knives until now.

But Thanksgiving was different.

On normal days, you wouldn’t be able to even touch a gun or sword without money, but on this day, you could experience it at least once.

This day was an opportunity because shooting ranges and dojos held competitions with prizes.

Even if it wasn’t a competition, people tended to lighten their wallets around this time, so they would also provide free experiences.

Just in time for this year, Amon would also be 15, and with the orphanage director’s permission to handle a gun, the opportunity to pull the trigger finally came.

***

“Top marksman Amon, ready to go~”

Amon said to himself cheerfully as he left the orphanage.

“Hehe.”

Sonia followed behind him.

Amon had told her she didn’t have to follow him, but Sonia, wanting to experience it at least once, tagged along.

The two passed through the bustling streets celebrating the holiday and headed to the shooting range.

Bang! Bang!

At the “American Constitution” shooting range, the sound of gunfire echoed as if it would deafen them.

“I’m here to participate in the competition!!”

Amidst the noise, Amon shouted towards the gun shop owner.

The owner waved as if he couldn’t hear him from behind the bulletproof glass counter.

Amon got a bit closer to the glass and shouted.

“Competition!! I want to participate!!!!”

The gun shop owner nodded.

He handed Amon a paper with the rules written on it.

Since Amon had already memorized the competition rules, he quickly read it over and shoved it in his pocket.

The rules were simple.

Score as many points as possible within the time limit.

The targets generally moved, and each firearm had a different scoring method.

Amon rented an old pistol and rifle and took his place in the shooting range.

An announcement came over the speaker in his lane.

[Get ready. 3, 2, 1. Start!]

Bang!

He pulled the trigger on the pistol.

With a heavy recoil, his shoulder jerked, and his wrist throbbed.

“Ow. That hurt more than I expected.”

It made sense when you think about it.

In this world, targets to be shot with a gun included species with thicker skin than wild boar leather or cyborgs with steel skin swapped in.

The average caliber and powder charge would naturally be on a different level compared to his previous life.

Even Amon, who prided himself on being strong among his peers regardless of race, found it hard to control all the recoil.

His hand felt numb, but he continued pulling the trigger.

When he finished with the pistol, he switched to the rifle.

Since rapid-fire was prohibited, he shot calmly one at a time.

Due to the recoil, the bullets kept bouncing slightly off the target point.

The final score was 1100 points.

Most of the bullets scored 10 points, some scored 9 points, and the furthest stray hit 7 points.

The shooting range manager clapped and congratulated Amon.

“You won’t starve to death anywhere.”

Amon agreed.

With this level of talent, he could make a living as a mercenary.

As he returned the gun, Amon evaluated his talent for firearms inwardly.

‘Not quite right for guns.’

It wasn’t bad.

But with this, he wouldn’t be able to handle high-caliber firearms.

Amon’s goal was to see the true ending.

The humans he would meet would be those equipped with nerve acceleration devices and shooting magical engineering beams that could pierce tanks.

To take on those people, he would need to score 10,000 points, even if he emptied a magazine on each side with rifles.

Because of this, Amon concluded that his talent with guns was “mediocre.”

“I’ll put firearms on hold for now.”

He left a triangle mark on his list of talent candidates.

After deciding on guns, Amon waited for Sonia before heading to the next location.

Soon it was Sonia’s turn.

With a serious expression, she steadied the rifle and pulled the trigger.

Tatatatat!

An unusual burst of sound echoed.

The judge was about to disqualify Sonia for using a rapid-fire mode in a competition where only single shots were allowed.

But—

“This is single fire, you know?”

To prove her innocence, she activated the rapid-fire mode once more in single shot.

Her fingers moved so fast that they left afterimages.

Tatatatatat!

“Huh? Wait…?”

The judge was flustered and asked her.

“Did you perhaps get implants in your fingers?”

“No? I haven’t had any procedures done.”

The judge was once again surprised to learn she was a pure human.

After much deliberation, he acknowledged her innocence.

Thus, her shooting show resumed.

Sonia was shooting targets as if in rapid fire but in single shots.

Her aim was incredibly stable.

She could even balance a cup of water on the barrel.

As if there were no recoil at all, as if the game had been made on a budget and didn’t implement recoil.

“What is this? Is there some cushion absorbing the recoil?”

Every bullet of hers found its way into the center of the target.

Before he knew it, everyone at the shooting range was mesmerized, watching her.

Once her shooting finished, her score was revealed.

3500 points.

Amon patted Sonia’s shoulder and said.

“It seems you have a clear career path ahead.”