Chapter 2
Chapter 2
I Shot It, I Really Shot It
* * *
There was no signboard, but this place was a pawnshop. To be more precise, it was an unlicensed store, not officially registered as a business.
Because of that, the fees were high, but the appeal lay in being able to secure funds without going through a financial institution.
Customer service, however, was nonexistent.
The partition wall, likely installed in case of emergencies, seemed designed to completely prevent any physical contact.
If not for the small window just large enough for a torso to fit through, it would have been impossible to even see the figure sitting on the other side.
The hunched old man kept his head down, seemingly captivated by something, and didn’t look up.
Unable to hold back any longer, I stepped closer and tapped on the window.
“Mister Hedgehog.”
At that, a voice shot back from the other side.
“I told you to drop that crappy habit of giving everyone you meet a nickname.”
The sharp-tongued old man’s name was Shade Crowell.
Not the biggest player in the region... but in terms of experience, he was second to none. The fact that he’d managed to establish a shop like this in a world of betrayal and violence was proof enough.
“You’ve got a filthy mouth. Don’t react like that—it’s my way of showing affection. Anyway, reading the newspaper again today? Still holding on to that classy hobby, huh.”
This was an era where devices had become part of daily life.
Anyone could access the latest information from wherever they sat. All it took was the desire to do so.
Even so, turning paper pages by hand was seen as an outdated preference, an inefficient mindset.
“I thought you were old enough by now, but maybe not. You still can’t appreciate this sort of thing?”
“I don’t want to.”
Folding the newspaper in half, Shade tapped on the metal embedded in his temple.
It was a ‘slot,’ an internal implant device whose abilities varied drastically depending on its purpose and usage.
A product of advanced cybernetics.
With the progress of civilization, humanity had already begun to step beyond the bounds of biology, preparing for the next stage.
The one Shade used was part of that evolution. It enhanced cognitive abilities, allowing him to recall details about customers.
A bestseller made by Emil Corporation, experts in neuroscience.
They called it the sub-brain.
It was so widely used that its price was low, but that didn’t mean its performance suffered.
After checking the transaction history projected onto his retina, Shade tilted his head.
“So, what’s your business? Didn’t we just have a deal recently?”
Saying something like “I’m behind on rent and need quick cash” would’ve just been unnecessary fluff. Especially to an old man who took every chance to belittle others’ collections.
So I silently took out a commemorative coin.
“That is…”
The ability to see through to the essence without hearing every sob story—now that was what you called discernment.
And Shade had more than enough of it.
“That’s the one you got when the Second visited.”
“As expected, I like that I don’t need to waste words with you, old man.”
The year was 1977. Humanity launched two unmanned probes into space.
Commonly known as Voyager 1 and 2.
Onboard them was an object called the Golden Record. It was an LP disc that offered a brief introduction to the technology and culture humanity had achieved at the time.
In a way, it was a calling card—a message to say that an intelligent species called humanity lived on a planet called Earth.
It would’ve been arrogant to assume that humanity was the only civilization in the vast universe.
It could be seen as a preemptive measure, preparing for the day they would encounter extraterrestrial life.
And sure enough, that hope was eventually rewarded.
In 2158, during the era when humanity had withdrawn into six domes, an alien species that had discovered the Golden Record suddenly visited Earth.
They introduced themselves as the “Second.”
The second intelligent civilization in space. A species equipped with technology so advanced that humanity couldn’t even fathom it.
It was only natural that such an unexpected encounter caused quite a stir.
Some believed a reliable ally had appeared. Others foresaw an impending invasion.
But such debates were meaningless.
Against all expectations, the Second showed an oddly friendly attitude. Offering technological aid and resource transfers without asking for anything in return. Their assistance became indispensable to humanity.
Through that process, humanity was given the name “Fourth.”
The fourth species to develop a civilization in space.
A term so intuitive and clear that it left no room for further explanation.
After relations between the two species were established, the Second toured the domes, attending several events and festivals.
The commemorative coin was a token of affection they gifted to attendees during those visits.
They’d handed them out generously, so the total number wasn’t small. Even so, the commemorative coin retained its value.
Countless groups wanted to examine what kind of metal was used in an alien civilization.
Not exactly rare, but not common either—so a reasonable market price still held to this day.
Even so—
“It’s an old item that’s been on the market for a while. 5 million Pias. How about it?”
Enough to support a family of four for two months without worry. For Shade, that was a surprisingly fair offer.
Yes—if only I hadn’t known one little fact.
“6.5 million. Didn’t the megacorps sweep up every single one that hit the market? You think I wouldn’t know?”
“You’ve been listening to useless chatter, haven’t you?”
“You still enjoy screwing people over, don’t you, old man.”
“5.5 million.”
“Are you into long conversations? If so, I could stand here all day. I’m practically a freelancer, you know.”
This was exactly why I’d been reluctant to come. Every time I met him, it felt like I came out losing something. Clicking his tongue with a short tch, Shade tapped his temple.
“6 million. Not a single coin more, you miserable bastard.”
* * *
After stepping out of the pawnshop, I tucked the thick envelope into my coat. It had been a satisfying deal. With this, I’d be able to pay my rent on time.
But the pleasant feeling didn’t last long. The farther I walked through the winding alleys, the more I felt the shadow clinging to my back.
At first, I thought it was coincidence. But not the second time. There was no way those obsessively synchronized footsteps weren’t deliberate.
Someone was following me.
The moment I realized it, I started leading them. Fortunately, even in this neglected area, there were plenty of landmarks I could use.
One good example was the abandoned underground tunnel—once meant to be a Hyperloop stop, before the project was halted.
As I walked aimlessly through the hollow, littered with discarded materials, I suddenly came to a stop.
“Why don’t you come out?”
My voice echoed hollowly into the space.
Drawn by my question, a man stepped out from a blind spot.
“If you knew, you should’ve run. Never seen someone walk into their own grave before.”
Despite the harsh tone, his appearance was unremarkable. If we hadn’t met here, I might’ve mistaken him for a respectable young man.
While we silently held eye contact, two more figures appeared behind me.
Three in total, now surrounding me.
I smiled, intrigued.
“It’s been a while since I got this kind of reception.”
Their methods weren’t exactly incomprehensible. In today’s world where devices were widespread, most financial transactions happened over the network.
That made anyone carrying cash a potential target for crime—it was just easier to steal.
But picking the right target wasn’t so easy. Unless the amount was unusually large, it was hard to tell who was carrying it. Yet these guys had followed me confidently.
Which could only mean—
“You’ve been watching the pawnshop all this time.”
It was a place where physical transactions happened. Targeting Shade himself would’ve been risky, so it made sense to go after someone who’d just finished dealing with him.
“Maybe going alone was the mistake.”
“Shut up and get over here. And don’t think you’re gonna run. Not a chance.”
Judging by their demeanor, they’d probably been observing me for a few days. They were at least diligent enough to be considered more than your average street thug threatening strangers at random.
But there was one crucial thing they had overlooked.
“Do you even know who I am?”
“Do I need to? If you’re the kind of guy who uses that pawnshop, you’re not exactly clean yourself, are you? At best, some hotshot fixer or whatever, right?”
“You’re surprisingly spot-on. Got nothing to say to that. Still, there’s one thing I do know.”
“What?”
“You lot… you came from outside the dome, didn’t you?”
He wasn’t talking about another dome. He meant outside the dome—out on the frigid wasteland.
It went without saying that people lived out there, too.
When the domes were completed in 2056, they weren’t large enough to house all of humanity. A selection process had been inevitable, and naturally, convicts and criminals were cast out.
But even in such extreme conditions, life found a way. Like nomads, they roamed the earth and built their own way of life—through pillaging, looting, and raw violence.
Their name was the Striders.
In a way, they were the kind of survivors perfectly suited for the Ice Age.
“Then it all makes sense. I hear hunting people is your life’s work.”
“You keep yapping, but you know it’s pointless, right? You don’t have a device either. Even if we bury you here, nobody’s coming after us.”
It was a fact that couldn’t be denied.
Even if the scene of the crime were discovered, the outcome would be the same.
In the domes, your device was your ID.
Of course, not having one didn’t mean you’d be arrested—but it also meant you had no protections. It was absolute non-interventionism. A policy that extended even into death.
“Starting to get the picture now?”
The young man drew a handgun from his waistband and aimed it at me.
“There’s nothing protecting you here. If you don’t want to die, hand over the money and get lost.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You think this is a joke?”
The young man, finger on the trigger, glared at me.
But I didn’t flinch.
“If you think you can shoot, go ahead. Just know—I won’t be responsible for what comes after.”
“Ha, you crazy bastard. You think saying that’s gonna scare me off?”
“Shoot.”
“If you’re begging to die, I won’t hold back.”
Bang!
The gunshot rang out without hesitation.
The bullet pierced straight through the center of my forehead.
The young man thought that was the end of it. At that range, a shot like that would put down anyone. But contrary to his certainty, I didn’t collapse. Just before falling, I held my upper body up with nothing but the strength of my waist.
Then, slowly, I regained my balance.
Like a marionette whose strings had just been retied.
A movement impossible for someone who was dead.
In that instant, a chill ran down the young man’s spine, and he instinctively took a step back.
“I shot him. I really shot him.”
Instead of blood, lead pellets dripped from my forehead.
Clink... clink...
It was barely audible, but it was enough to fill the hollow.
As the stunned thugs stared at me, unable to speak, I gave them a crooked smile.
It wasn’t lack of skill that made me let them land the first shot.
It was that I saw no reason to help them avoid becoming murderers.
These were people who wouldn’t hesitate to kill over a bit of money. If I didn’t end them here, they were bound to cause trouble somewhere else.
To someone weaker—someone who couldn’t survive like I could.
“I died once already. Now it’s your turn to die, one by one.”