Chapter 11
Build.
It was an indispensable term in RPGs.
Items, skills, stats, crafting combinations, and countless other growth systems.
Then there were the complicated calculations derived from them—additive bonuses, multiplicative bonuses, and everything in between.
For modern people, time was as valuable as gold. They could hardly afford to learn every aspect of a game by personally stumbling through trial and error.
Therefore—
Looking up a recommended way to develop a particular character or class in advance was as natural to a gamer as preparing a carton of Coolpis before eating spicy tteokbokki.
Of course, no two people had exactly the same preferences.
Some wanted only a rough set of guidelines.
Others relied on a guide for every single decision from beginning to end.
Deciding how much guidance to follow was entirely up to the individual player.
In that regard, Jin leaned closer to the latter.
He actively adopted builds packed with the accumulated expertise of those who had played before him.
For someone whose body and mind had been exhausted by working life, following an optimized build and enjoying a comfortable, stress-free game was the best choice available.
In truth, he had been that type of person even during his school days.
So what had he done with Project Neo?
Naturally, he had read the guides.
That was how he had been able to choose the so-called Zombie Build:
Drifter. Irregular. Rapid Recovery.
The problem was that he knew nothing about the detailed progression that came afterward.
That was only natural.
Such things were meant to be checked sequentially while playing the game, not memorized beforehand as though studying for an exam.
Why bother drilling it all into his head when a simple Alt-Tab would solve the problem?
And that concluded his excuses as a gamer.
Now—
There was a man facing the greatest dilemma of his life.
“What the hell do I pick?”
Jin clutched at his hair.
His head hurt worse than when, during his days as a private, a senior squad leader had threatened him to answer which of him and the outgoing sergeant he was always bickering with was more handsome.
For reference, both of them had been lunatics.
It even hurt worse than when Jin had agonized over whether to demand the return of the AirPods he had gifted his cheating girlfriend two days earlier.
He never got them back because she ghosted him.
This was, after all, a chance to illuminate an entirely new Constellation.
Even now, whenever he closed his eyes, he could see numerous Constellations and the unlit stars that served as their starting points.
Jin brought them into focus and let out a deep sigh.
“They all look good.”
There was, of course, one perk that particularly drew his attention.
[Psychic].
He assumed it would allow him to wield psychic powers.
Along its spreading branches were valuable stars such as telepathy and pyrokinesis, all seemingly lined up and waiting to be chosen.
When he considered that the superheroes from Company M who had once captivated the entire world mostly possessed powers of that sort, it was impossible not to be interested.
Nevertheless, there was one reason Jin could not readily unlock Psychic.
It was a power he had never personally experienced.
By Jin’s standards, which valued experience more highly than any manual in the world, that made it an unacceptable gamble.
What if he chose it and the performance turned out to be terrible?
“Absolutely not.”
Even as he said that, his eyes kept drifting toward it.
Damn, I really want to be the Human Torch.
A man of flames.
He was my favorite member of the Fantastic Four.
But there was nothing he could do.
In the end, his rigid principles left him with only one choice from the beginning.
A power he had personally experienced.
An ability clearly held in high regard throughout society under the name of the Families.
Mana.
At last, Jin made up his mind.
“Ah, screw it.”
Before his resolve could weaken, he quickly closed his eyes, found the staff-shaped Constellation, and poured all the experience he had accumulated into its first star.
Thunder exploded inside Jin’s head.
“Urgh!”
Foreign knowledge—and insights that should have required years of training to attain—surged violently through every corner of his body.
A refreshing sensation of shedding an old shell, as blocked pathways were forcefully torn open, clashed with the horrifying pain of his skull seemingly splitting apart.
The strain placed on his body was immense.
He began trembling uncontrollably, saliva spilling from his mouth.
When he finally opened his eyes again—
He was writhing on the floor, not even realizing that his body was enveloped in blue light.
As his consciousness flickered beneath the severe aftereffects, a newly illuminated star warmly introduced itself.
[Mana Circuit]
Before Jin had any chance to return the greeting, the last remnants of his consciousness sank into darkness.
As a result, Jin comprehended the flow of mana.
It was like a fetus leaving the amniotic fluid and breathing through its nose for the first time after entering the world.
He did not burst into tears, but adjusting to it was still difficult for quite some time.
Nevertheless, humans were adaptable creatures.
As time passed, Jin somehow grew accustomed to the unfamiliar sensation.
During that process, he discovered several things.
First, when he activated his Mana Circuit, a soft blue glow surrounded his body.
It was surprisingly pretty.
Second, his body became noticeably lighter while the Mana Circuit was active.
At first, he wondered whether it was merely a placebo effect.
Then he performed a small jump in place and slammed not only the top of his head, but his cheekbone as well, into the ceiling.
Only then was he certain that it was no illusion.
For now, he was satisfied that the effects were tangible.
From here on, he could simply learn spells one by one whenever he accumulated enough experience.
Khalifa had said that as long as someone possessed mana circuits, whether they could learn and utilize any particular spell depended on their personal aptitude.
At first, Jin had worried that he might lack talent.
After experiencing the process, however, he realized his concerns had been unnecessary.
He had never imagined that knowledge would be forcibly rammed directly into his brain.
Thanks to that, Jin encountered no difficulty whatsoever in activating his Mana Circuit despite receiving no instruction from anyone.
Its quality existed on an entirely different level from the mana circuits of someone who had undergone an illegal procedure.
Had the late Nielsen witnessed it, he likely would have kicked open his coffin and thrown a fit on the spot.
Of course, Jin could not have cared less.
He was far too hungry to think about such things.
“Wow, I’m dying.”
Only then did Jin realize that an entire day had passed since he lost consciousness and that he had eaten nothing during that time.
He immediately left the motel.
The homeless people gathered around an oil drum slowly raised their heads at the sound of footsteps crossing the alley.
The moment they recognized Jin, however, they hurriedly lowered their gazes.
They remembered the distant occasion when they had tried to empty his pockets, only to be beaten to a pulp instead.
“Good morning.”
Even though he was starving, Jin waved goodbye as he left the alley.
He then entered a hamburger restaurant based solely on its sign, set a new personal record by devouring nine Whoppers, and rode that momentum into a nearby clothing store, where he bought an entire new outfit consisting of a flight jacket, a short-sleeved shirt, and pants.
By the time he emerged in clean clothes, it was almost exactly noon.
Jin pulled the terminal from inside his jacket and checked the address in the message.
Good Neighbor.
It was the gun shop Khalifa had recommended.
***
In truth, Jin had never been particularly interested in firearms.
They were difficult to maintain when he was wandering around without even having a home, and more importantly, he had never been able to afford ammunition on a regular basis.
Once his fists and kicks became strong enough to crush a person’s skull, he lost interest in guns altogether.
Even on the rare occasion that he picked one up, it was usually just something another person had dropped in the middle of a fight.
Its only use was pulling the trigger against its owner’s forehead.
Recently, however, his opinion had begun to change.
Fenrir, was it?
Even in human form, that wolf-headed bastard had carried a sword almost as tall as Jin.
A blade well over a meter long, wielded by someone nearly two meters and ten centimeters tall?
Skill or no skill, close combat itself would cease to be viable.
The difference in reach would be so overwhelming that closing the distance would be nearly impossible unless Jin was prepared to sacrifice an arm.
That was when he began to feel the need for a ranged weapon.
Then, during his first request, the problem finally came to a head.
While Nielsen fled, wildly firing both spells and bullets, all Jin had been able to do was—
Chase him as hard as possible.
Of course, his raw physical capabilities were absurd enough that he eventually caught up despite taking everything head-on.
Still, it was obvious that the situation would have been much easier if he had possessed even a single handgun.
Scratching at the skin that had begun peeling away, Jin entered Junk Plaza.
The place was as dizzyingly complicated as ever.
This time, however, he somehow managed not to get lost.
He had downloaded a navigation app onto his terminal.
Why the hell hadn’t I used something this useful before?
Whoever invented navigation deserves an award.
Ah, savior of fifty million people with no sense of direction.
Jin walked for quite some time, clutching the terminal like a radar used to locate the Dragon Balls.
Eventually, the navigation app informed him that his destination was only one hundred meters away in a straight line.
Jin looked up from the screen.
A narrow passage had formed between two buildings constructed far too close together.
At the end of the shadowy alley, where the disastrous combination of floor-area ratio and building coverage prevented even a single ray of sunlight from entering, stood a two-story building.
A red LED sign blinked above it.
Good Neighbor.
It was indeed the gun shop Khalifa had mentioned.
Jin slipped the terminal back inside his jacket and clicked his tongue.
Seeing how deeply hidden the place was, it would have been nearly impossible to find by simply searching on foot.
Is this why everyone says connections are everything?
“Anyone here?”
Jin opened the opaque glass door and stepped inside.
The cold scent of metal brushed against his nose.
The first thing that caught his eye was a wall densely covered with every imaginable type of firearm.
Sitting with his back to that wall was an old man staring intently at a small screen.
“Oh! Wow...! Hoo! Now this—this is...”
Whatever he was watching, he was so absorbed in it that he kept blurting out exclamations and failed to notice Jin even when he walked right up to him.
Eventually, Jin grew tired of waiting and cleared his throat pointedly.
“Ahem—”
“Whoa!”
The old man hurriedly flipped the display over like a high school student caught during some private leisure time.
“Who the hell are you?”
“A customer.”
“W-When did you come in?”
“About the time you started moaning.”
Jin gestured toward the overturned display with his chin.
Sure enough, suggestive female moans continued leaking from it.
“Huh?! W-Why is this—”
The old man’s face instantly turned bright red.
He frantically tried to lower the volume, hide the device, and when neither worked, threw it over his shoulder in complete panic.
“You’re still full of energy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?! I wasn’t watching anything!”
“As they say, strong denial is—”
“Enough! What do you want?”
The old man cut him off and barked the question.
Jin answered,
“I came to a gun shop to buy a gun. What other reason would there be?”
The owner blinked at Jin’s indifferent tone, then frowned.
“Tch! Don’t try your tricks on me. I told you bastards clearly that I wouldn’t sell to any of you!”
“What are you talking about? Are you just trying to throw me out because you’re embarrassed?”
“Stop spouting nonsense and get the hell out!”
“Seriously?”
Jin frowned.
Unless the old man was acting, he seemed to have misunderstood something.
Thinking about it carefully, though, this situation felt strangely familiar.
Yes.
Whenever a stubborn shopkeeper glared furiously and shouted, I wouldn’t sell to you bastards even if dirt filled my eyes!, it usually meant he had become entangled with some group of low-class thugs.
That was not baseless speculation.
Novels, comics, movies, dramas—
Historically, that was always how it went.
And didn’t they say history repeated itself?
A dreadful premonition told Jin that he was about to become involved in something troublesome.
He hurriedly opened his mouth.
“Calm down. I’ll just be going—”
Before he could finish the sentence, a prickling sensation ran across the back of his head.
“...”
His body’s warning signals detected danger.
His head turned instinctively.
Rattle, rattle, rattle.
A grenade rolled through the open doorway.
Then that damned quest window appeared, blocking his view.
[(Sudden!) Good Neighbor]
Protect Good Neighbor.
- Reward: 1,500 Perk XP
“Ah, shit.”