1.
Punk Road—a strange planet constructed from data and text.
Here, the boundary between reality and fiction was as blurred as the line between a river and the sea.
Hackers possessed the power to edit the world itself through their skills, which was precisely why the hackers of Punk Road were considered especially dangerous.
“So what if Punk Road is known for hackers? It’s not like I have any talent.”
There is such a thing as 'genre grammar.'
Three months ago, when I first woke up here, I was excited too.
A new name: Adrian.
A new life.
The classic 'isekai' possession.
Alright, let’s look at this through the lens of that so-called genre grammar.
Wouldn't anyone assume that if they were transported into another world like a novel, they'd go on an adventure and stumble upon every possible cheat skill and transmigration cliché?
“Why is the guy who got possessed so powerless...?”
“Stop talking nonsense and just find some scrap already.”
Silver Wolf grumbled beside me as she rummaged through a pile of trash.
We were in a junkyard known as Scrap Mountain.
The place was crawling with monsters and dangerous hunters, but those of us on the lower rungs of society dug up usable scrap here to sell back in the city.
“Last time, I almost got attacked by wolves here. You have to be careful.”
“...How the hell did you not die?”
“Because I fought like hell.”
“Do you want a gold star for that?”
“No need.”
Tch. I was going to grant her a wish if she collected ten of those.
Leaving the still-snappish Silver Wolf behind, I returned to searching through the scrap.
The 'choice' I had seen yesterday after picking up our illegal orphan, Miss Silver Wolf, was probably a scam.
I saw it clearly right in front of my eyes, and all I got was another mouth to feed. A complete scam.
I was the idiot for believing in it.
“These days, protagonists suffering like dogs isn’t popular...”
There were plenty of ways to make a protagonist work even if they weren’t especially capable.
For example, these days you could just lean into harem appeal, seduce the heroine, and live as a kept man...
Or a territory-management story, or a leisurely slice-of-life healing story would’ve been nice too...
Why, of all things,
did it have to be dark fantasy?
To make matters worse, I had a bad habit of losing two months’ worth of earnings at the local casino.
I got so lost in the gaming, so drowned in the thrill and the dopamine, that I couldn’t bring myself to stop when I should have.
Ah, those dreams of a single night.
I miss them like hell.
If I’d just had some self-control, I could be holding fifty million credit points right now.
With that much, I could’ve moved to the city—the *real* City—where the upper class and famous hackers lived.
I should’ve walked away the moment those gamblers started their scheme.
“Find anything?”
“Nothing. We’re completely broke today. Should we take a job from the office?”
“...I don’t want to take a fixer job.”
The reason Silver Wolf hated fixers was simple.
Those guys started by beating people up.
Basically, the fixers of Punk Road were just hired thugs who shoved homeless people around or killed them and covered up the evidence.
If you were actually strong, you weren’t called a fixer—you were called a hacker. No matter how I looked at it, this place was a total piece of shit.
“Hmm... then there’s nothing to do.”
Much like the relationship between fiction and reality on Punk Road, it was possible here to make money by hunting monsters or selling their byproducts.
But who were we?
LV.9 trash, Adrian Servet.
LV.0 illegal orphan, Silver Wolf.
Look at this party.
Even a passing beggar would pity us.
Charging at monsters without proper weapons was suicide.
How did I know? Because I tried it.
At first, I’d gone in with that “I can do this... if it’s me!” mindset and nearly died, remember?
“For now, let’s keep searching. You never know—there might be a pearl in the mud.”
“...You actually believe that?”
“I have to believe in something. It’s the only way.”
I’d heard rumors now and then about people finding treasure in Scrap Mountain and using it to climb the social ladder.
That was pure bullshit. You could make money, sure, but you couldn’t raise your level.
Even if you did climb up, all you'd find waiting for you was contempt and disdain.
“Oh!”
“What is it?!”
While I was bent over, digging deep into the scrap pile, I felt something rattling inside.
It was buried so deep in the heap of machinery that it would’ve been easy to miss.
If you weren’t careful, the junk stacked on top could collapse and crush you instantly.
“It’s a ship part! If we can sell this, we might actually make some money!”
“Really?”
I’d lived in Scrap Mountain for three months, so I knew what was worth something.
This was a ship component.
Looking at it, it seemed to be a part from an old skiff... why was this here?
“A skiff part?”
“Yeah. This should be worth a decent amount.”
If it were just ordinary appliance scrap, that would be one thing.
But this was a ship component. Even a small piece was valuable.
“If we’d found nothing today, we would've been eating nutrient blocks. This is much better.”
“...You eat those?”
“Hey, those are a specialty of Neon City, too.”
“The stuff with ground-up bugs in it?”
“You ate them too!”
We had no choice.
Nutrient blocks were the minimum survival rations brought in by the upper class.
There has to be a bottom for there to be a top.
Even if those bastards laughed at us for eating nutrient blocks, we had no choice if we wanted to survive.
I never thought I’d end up knowing what it felt like to be in the caboose of the train.
“For now, shall we go?”
“...Yeah.”
Since the ship part was something I’d found entirely on my own, Silver Wolf looked at me with uneasy eyes.
It was as if she were afraid she wouldn’t get a share.
She looked like a small animal terrified of being abandoned.
“How much can we get for this?”
“...What? Why is it in such decent condition?”
We left Scrap Mountain and walked the neon-lit night streets of Neon City.
At the end of the road was the pawnshop I always used to sell my finds.
Even though there were hundreds of pawnshops thanks to the proximity of Scrap Mountain, plenty of them were run by people who would happily cheat you blind.
Do you know how many times I’d had to grab some bastard by the collar and fight him off just to avoid being robbed?
“It’s top-grade. I’ll give you a fair price.”
“If I catch you lying, I’m taking your hand off.”
“...Hey, you asshole. I’m the one who helped you find a place to live when you were house-hunting.”
The man with the toad-like face adjusted his glasses and sighed.
“And I’m not confident enough to scam you. I’m not reckless enough to try cheating the guy who’s already taken down four pawnshop owners.”
“Thanks for the compliment!”
“That wasn’t a compliment, you lunatic...”
Silver Wolf was darting her eyes around the pawnshop, her gaze bright.
What caught her attention most was the game console in the display window; her eyes sparkled as she stared at the old model.
“Who’s the kid?”
“A kid I’ve been bringing around lately. We got connected somehow.”
“This one?”
The pawnshop owner lifted his pinky and made a vulgar gesture with both hands.
“Cut the crap. Do I look like that kind of person?”
“Hmm... that’s the only reason I can think of.”
“Enough bullshit. Just settle the bill.”
The credit points were counted out.
The total came to 300,000 credit points.
“...That’s too low.”
“I already shaved off as much as I could and still gave you that.”
“Can’t you give me more?”
“What a punk.”
Seeing that he really wouldn’t budge, I shook my head.
Apparently, it was worth so much because it was a rare old model in excellent condition.
What a lucky day.
...Though days like this always seemed to end with something bad happening.
For a moment, with 300,000 credit points in hand, I felt the urge to hit the casino again.
But first, principles were principles.
I gave Silver Wolf 150,000 credit points.
“Huh? What?”
“Take it.”
If I kept it all for myself, it would eventually come back to bite me.
Resentment grows quickly in places like this.
“...Why are you giving this to me?”
“We agreed to split it fifty-fifty if we found something.”
“No, I mean... I didn’t think you’d actually keep your word.”
Silver Wolf glanced around like a suspicious puppy.
Seeing her lower her head like that, it was clear she really hadn’t expected me to share the payment.
“Next time, if you find something good, we split it then too. Same as now.”
“But still...”
Tch. The kid talks too much.
“Then should I take it back?”
“No, no! Thank you...”
With the remaining 150,000 credit points, I casually glanced at the old game console in the display window.
“Mister, how much for this?”
“That? It’s a vintage piece, so there’s a premium...”
“Cut the crap and give me a real price. It’s been sitting there covered in dust since I came here two months ago.”
As expected of a pawnshop on Punk Road.
He tried to rip off the weak the moment he saw an opening.
“50,000 credit points...”
“30,000.”
“Hey, I have to make a living too!”
“20,000.”
“Are you insane?!”
Why was he trying so hard to sell something that probably wouldn’t even move?
It wasn't as if he intended to use it himself.
After we bickered back and forth for a while, the man finally sighed.
“Fine, fine! 20,000. I’ll sell it for exactly 20,000. I have to at least get back what I paid for it in the first place.”
“Then that means 20,000 is the actual value, doesn’t it? You want to die?”
“Ah, seriously!!!”
In the end, we negotiated him down further and got it for 15,000 credit points.
“You bastards...”
The man glared at us as we left the pawnshop.
Then negotiate better, idiot.
“...Thanks.”
Holding the game console in her arms, Silver Wolf looked up at me.
If I hadn’t stepped in, she definitely would’ve bought it for 50,000 credit points like a complete sucker.
“Does the console still turn on?”
“Yeah, it’s in good condition.”
“Then that’s enough. As long as you’re happy.”
That was it for today.
We’d worked enough, and rest was important.
Silver Wolf looked eager to get home and turn on the console as soon as possible.
“Silver Wolf.”
“What?”
“We made some money today, so should we eat something good?”
Days like this didn’t come around often.
Yeah, on a day like today, we deserved a real meal.
On the way back, we stopped by a butcher shop and bought some proper meat and a few snacks.
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