It was several days before he finally woke from the brink of death.
While Ji-hwan lay unconscious, Amy and Rachel, who had been desperately worried about him, along with the rest of the Aldecaldos, kept coming by the tent to check on his condition.
Beside the creaking cot, Saul Bright sat with his arms folded, wearing an old leather jacket.
When Saul confirmed that Ji-hwan was awake, he let out a long sigh of relief. Then, in a calm voice, he told him what had happened outside after he passed out.
"Thanks to you, Panam blew the head right off their boss. With their commander gone, the Raffen Shiv freaks panicked and started running in circles, and our family chased them down to the last one and finished the job. No need to worry about the people, either."
Hearing that, Ji-hwan let out a deep breath of relief, as if a boulder had been lifted from his chest.
That alone was enough. The fact that everyone was safe because of the time he had bought with his life was all that mattered.
Ji-hwan struggled to push his upper body up and looked Saul straight in the eye.
"Saul. I need to tell you something."
Saul’s expression turned serious, and he nodded.
Ji-hwan took a moment to steady his breathing, then dropped his bombshell in a dry, heavy voice.
"I’m leaving this place."
Saul’s brow furrowed deeply.
Flap!
"Damn it, why does Mitch keep messing with my car? It’s so annoying!"
Panam Palmer, in her red leather jacket, stormed into the tent, grumbling bitterly.
She hadn’t heard Ji-hwan’s announcement at all, and only now seemed to notice the heavy mood inside. Her eyes darted between the two of them.
Then her usual mischievous streak kicked in.
"What’s with the serious vibe? You two got something secret to say in bed or what?"
Panam’s shameless joke instantly loosened the tension that had been stretched tight in the tent.
Saul clicked his tongue in disbelief.
"Don’t say stupid things, Panam."
After giving her a brief scolding, Saul stood up.
Just as he was heading out of the tent, he stopped and added in a low voice to Ji-hwan, who was still sitting on the cot.
"Enough talk. Let’s speak again once your wounds have healed."
After Saul disappeared outside, Panam was left behind, shrugging as if she had no idea what was going on.
Then several days passed in a blur.
The fatal wounds carved into Ji-hwan’s body healed at an unnatural pace.
The torn muscle fibers and broken bones found their places again, and before long he was able to step outside the tent and walk around the camp.
He roamed all over the Aldecaldos camp to get used to the rules of this other world, a world he knew nothing about outside of games.
Panam Palmer, in her red leather jacket, treated Ji-hwan like some clueless idiot who didn’t know the first thing about the world.
She hurled her usual rough curses without hesitation, but her real intentions were different. From basic Night City common sense to survival skills, she taught him everything carefully, one thing at a time.
After that, Ji-hwan went to see Cassidy, the veteran nomad gunslinger in the worn cowboy hat, and asked him to teach him how to shoot.
The result was disastrous.
He fired ten shots with a pistol and didn’t hit a single target, displaying a miraculous talent for complete and utter incompetence.
Watching only stray dust kick up around the target, Cassidy let out a deep sigh.
"Listen, Ji-hwan. I don’t think you and guns are meant to be. You’d be better off carrying a shotgun like the one that bastard Raffen boss used, or just sticking to those ridiculous fists of yours."
Cassidy shook his head, declaring a complete surrender.
The one who approached Ji-hwan after his bitter lesson in marksmanship was Scorpion, wearing a hood.
Without a word, he placed several rough daggers in Ji-hwan’s hands. He was going to teach him throwing techniques.
But then something strange happened.
Every time Ji-hwan used the snap of his wrist to throw a dagger, the blade sliced through the air and buried itself deep in the exact center of the target.
After dozens of throws all hit dead center, Scorpion, who had been watching silently, showed deep shock in his eyes.
"I’ve never seen talent like this before."
Even the taciturn Scorpion was left speechless by the sheer instinctive skill on display.
After finishing dagger practice and doing a light warm-up in a corner of the camp, Ji-hwan caught his breath. He quietly looked up at the barren night sky.
The camp spread out before his eyes had a strange warmth to it. They were not pixel fragments or data, not NPCs spitting out preset lines like the ones he had seen from behind a monitor in his room back then.
When morning came, everyone gathered to share a warm meal, and in one corner of the tents, children sat on the ground, avoiding the harsh Badlands sandstorm, playing their own crude little games.
A few passing family members cheered like kids because they had found a working part in a wrecked car that day.
That peaceful, rough-hewn daily life. Right there in the middle of a blood-soaked lawless wasteland, real people were living by leaning on one another’s warmth.
Every time Ji-hwan took in that scene, he found himself indulging in a sweet fantasy: that he, too, could become part of this rough but warm nomad family and stay by their side forever.
But that modest dream soon crashed into the cold wall of reality. Ji-hwan quietly looked down at his own hands.
His body was a freakish constitution that couldn’t even accept something as common as a neural socket in Night City.
Instead of fully rejecting the benefits of machines, it possessed a regenerative ability that would tear open flesh and break bone, then spew red steam and stubbornly stitch the wounds back together in real time.
A mutation far beyond human common sense. If the hounds of a megacorp like Biotechnica, fanatically obsessed with bioweapon experiments, ever caught a whiff of this secret, what would happen? They would no doubt come charging into the Badlands with huge stacks of eddies and a lethal strike team, determined to capture the specimen alive.
And if that happened, Saul and Mitch, Panam, and even little Amy and Rachel, who had held out their small hands to him. This warm Aldecaldos nest would be swallowed by horrific crossfire and turned into a pitiful, blood-red pile of ash.
His very existence was a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment.
There was only one choice if he wanted to protect the precious people he had grown attached to.
'I have to leave.'
Ji-hwan let out a dry laugh.
"At the very least... if I’m going to die, I should die alone."
He rose from where he had been sitting on the ground.
Casually brushing the dust of the barren wasteland off his pants, Ji-hwan silently walked toward the old barracks where Saul Bright, the family’s leader, was staying.
As he walked, the night scenery of the Aldecaldos camp that came into view was incredibly peaceful. The people gathered around the campfire were sharing cheap beer and laughing in their rough, hearty way.
Ji-hwan’s chest ached sharply. He hated the thought of leaving this warm place behind, but he had no choice but to hurry, because he knew his strange body, which rejected implants and healed endlessly, could turn this peace into a blood-soaked hell at any time.
Crossing the open lot on the far side of the camp, a familiar group came into view.
Panam in her red leather jacket, Mitch in his old baseball cap, and Scorpion with his brown hood.
They were surrounding the vicious armored vehicle they had stolen from the Raffen Shiv bastards who had tried to crush them not long ago, working hard on repairs.
"Oh, Ji-hwan!"
Mitch, the first to spot him, waved his bulky metal prosthetic and his grease-stained gloves.
Panam and Scorpion also set down their wrenches and gave him a quick nod.
"I need to talk to Saul."
"Huh? Saul? He’s not at the tent right now."
Panam wiped a smear of grease from her forehead and tilted her head.
"Again? Where’d he go?"
"Hahaha! He didn’t go out to shoot at anything."
Mitch burst out laughing heartily.
"He probably went up to the top of that rocky hill back there today."
"Why there...?"
When Ji-hwan asked in confusion, Mitch grinned with a knowing look.
He tapped Ji-hwan’s broad shoulder with the heavy wrench in his hand, then casually nudged him toward the rocky hill.
"Go see for yourself. Looks like he needed some time alone."
After giving him the short answer, Mitch went back to the rattling scrap vehicle with Scorpion and Panam and resumed the repair work.
After taking in their bickering but lively 모습, Ji-hwan silently headed toward the barren rocky hill Mitch had pointed out.
He followed the rough dirt slope and reached the summit.
There, he saw the solid back of Saul in his faded old leather jacket.
Saul was perched precariously on the edge of a jagged rock, sipping a cold can of beer.
Beyond Saul’s gaze stretched the gray wasteland of the Badlands, dry and endless.
On the horizon where the wasteland ended, massive skyscrapers and vein-like neon signs rose through the gray clouds like a mirage, flashing brilliantly.
It was the overwhelming skyline of Night City, the machine city where all desire and violence converged.
Ji-hwan quietly made his presence known and approached Saul’s side. Then he chose a round rock nearby and sat down with a thud.
Taking in the wide-open view and the acrid desert wind deep into his lungs, Ji-hwan suddenly spoke.
"Saul. Do you really see a view like this every day?"
At Ji-hwan’s calm question, Saul lowered the beer can from his mouth.
He glanced at Ji-hwan, then let out a dry little laugh, the corners of his bearded mouth lifting slightly.
"Heh. Every day would be rough."
Saul gave the can in his hand a light shake.
"Feeding dozens of family members and protecting this nest from Raffen Shiv and the other scavengers means every day is a bloodletting war. I’m lucky if I get to sit around and look at the lights once or twice a month."
Saul’s voice carried the exhaustion of a leader who ruled the Badlands.
The steadfast fate of a nomad, forced to wander the barren wasteland to escape corporate control while bearing responsibility for the survival of his family, weighed heavily on his broad shoulders.
Saul drained the remaining beer down his throat and crushed the empty can.
In the silence that followed, Saul suddenly spoke again.
"You’re leaving?"
At that calm question, Ji-hwan was startled inside.
It was a declaration he had rolled around in his mouth for a long time before finally preparing, and yet Saul had already seen right through him.
Ji-hwan forced the stiffness from his face and slowly nodded.
"Yeah... I am."
Though his answer came out calm, a cold pain spread somewhere deep in Ji-hwan’s chest.
Truthfully, he wanted to stay here. He wanted to live under this rough but warm tent with Amy and Rachel, Mitch, Panam, and Saul, as part of a close-knit family.
But he knew all too well that the cruel fate of his freakish body and the greed of the corporations that would come hunting him would never let him remain in this peace.
Ji-hwan swallowed his bitterness and went on.
"I’m planning to head out this afternoon."
Even then, Saul showed no anger or surprise.
He simply looked at Ji-hwan quietly with his deeply lined eyes.
"I see."
With that short reply, Saul was the first to stand.
After brushing the dust off his old leather jacket, he started down the slope, then added in a low voice over his shoulder.
"Come down in a bit."
It was a mature, heavy kind of consideration, one that didn’t try to stop him or pry any further.
Ji-hwan quietly watched Saul’s sturdy back grow distant below the mountain, buffeted by the rough desert wind.
Once Saul’s presence had fully disappeared, Ji-hwan’s gaze naturally drifted past the wasteland Saul had just been staring at.
Before long, a pale morning sun was rising beyond the barren horizon.
The morning light cut through the gray clouds and acidic haze, laying bare the massive skyline of Night City. The neon signs that had glittered like a mirage all night had lost their color in the dirty morning light, but the steel-and-concrete towers that replaced them radiated an oppressive force, like some giant machine waking up with its jaws open.
It was the cold face of a city where every kind of desire and violence gathered.
Ji-hwan soon looked away and lowered his eyes to the ground below.
Beneath the rocky hill, he could see the Aldecaldos camp beginning its morning amid old canvas tents, scrap-metal walls, and the dying embers of the campfire.
It was a hard life, one where clean water was precious enough to require daily filter maintenance, and every day meant worrying about survival amid raiders and a polluted, hostile environment.
But beneath those towering Night City skyscrapers in the distance lived something you could never buy with any amount of money: unconditional freedom, and family members who were willing to have each other’s backs.
Two utterly incompatible worlds. Ji-hwan suddenly thought of the story that would come later.
He could now painfully understand why Panam, full of swagger in the main story, had to strike out on her own toward Night City only to be brutally betrayed by her partner and left wandering after even her car was stolen.
Rough nomads like these, who still held onto dirt-stained loyalty and sincerity, had no chance of surviving intact in the mud pit of corrupt corporations and constant deception.
Unless a miracle like V intervened, Panam and the Aldecaldos’ romance was nothing but a sad fate destined to rot away and become the ruthless fertilizer of merciless Night City.
For their sake, he would gladly have to throw himself alone into that blood-red swamp.
'As long as I’m here, I won’t let that happen.'
Ji-hwan stared blankly at the wasteland.
Then he heard someone calling him from below the mountain. He brushed the dust off his ass and climbed down the rocky slope.
"Ji-hwan. Pack your things and come to the lot."
It was Saul calling for him. Ji-hwan gathered his meager belongings inside the old tent and headed out to the open lot. Then he widened his eyes.
There, Saul, Panam, Mitch, Scorpion, Rachel, Amy, and the rest of the Aldecaldos family who had quietly grown close to him over the past days were gathered in small groups, waiting for him.
"Huh? Why is everyone here?"
"Damn it, you said you were leaving the nest, didn’t you? Then we’re gonna see your face before you go."
Panam snapped at him in her usual prickly tone. With one hand, she tossed something heavy toward Ji-hwan’s chest.
"Here. Wear it. If you don’t want a bullet hole in you."
What Ji-hwan caught by reflex was an old natural-leather ballistic vest, dusty but still looking pretty tough.
He had no idea whether they had picked it up somewhere or stolen it from someone after knocking their teeth in. Ji-hwan smiled faintly and put the vest on.
"You’re not planning to walk all the way to Night City, are you?"
This time Mitch grinned. He tossed an old car key in a high arc.
When Ji-hwan pressed the button on the key, the headlights of a Thornton Colby parked off to the side blinked to life. It was an old model popular among nomads.
They had stripped the crude paint slapped onto the body they’d taken from the Raffen Shiv bastards and roughly carved the Aldecaldos emblem into it.
Finally, Saul stepped forward.
"The Aldecaldos will always welcome you, Kim Ji-hwan. If your stomach’s empty or you miss this dust, come back anytime."
"...Thanks, Saul."
Ji-hwan forced down the emotions filling his chest and smiled bitterly. Saul gave his broad shoulder a light smack, then took a thick metal case from his pocket and handed it over.
"And this is the ‘ID’ and personal communicator you’ll need to get by in Night City. Pay me back later, with interest."
"Jesus, where the hell did you dig up that antique piece of junk?"
Panam grimaced.
She kept grumbling with a click of her tongue, but for Ji-hwan, whose No-Chrome body couldn’t install implants, an old smartphone that could connect him to the outside world was more precious than anything else.
Ji-hwan exchanged short but heartfelt goodbyes with the family.
After gently patting Amy on the head, he climbed into the driver’s seat of the Thornton Colby Mitch had given him and started the engine. The old motor roared harshly, filling the lot with its growl.
Ji-hwan set his luggage in the passenger seat and powered on the communicator Saul had given him.
The crude screen lit up, and a contact list appeared. There were two names saved there.
[Saul Bright], [Fixer - Dakota Smith]
The moment he saw the second name, a sharp glint flashed in Ji-hwan’s eyes.
'Dakota Smith.' Knowledge from the game he had played hundreds of times from behind a monitor in his room flashed through his mind.
She was a capable broker who had a tight grip on the Badlands and a reliable fixer with deep ties to the nomad families.
She was also the one who had provided Saul with the Raffen Shiv hideout information when they rescued his family not long ago.
A woman who knew the harsh nature and information network of the northern Badlands better than anyone in Night City.
For Ji-hwan, who had to draw the attention of giant corporations with nothing but his bare body, she was the most reliable first step onto this chessboard.
But beyond that anticipation, Ji-hwan soon mulled over the true meaning behind Saul leaving him this contact.
The leader of the Aldecaldos, who was extremely wary of outsiders, had handed a direct line to the fixer he trusted most to a complete stranger.
This wasn’t just a way of handing him work.
It was like giving Ji-hwan the strongest lifeline he could grab onto in the ruthless mud pit called Night City.
It was Saul’s own heavy mark of trust toward the man who would willingly throw himself into danger to protect their nest.
'I owe them too much. I’ll survive and pay it back.'
Vroooom - Vrooooom-
Ji-hwan smiled faintly at Saul’s consideration.
After hardening his resolve, he turned his gaze out the window and stared at the skyscrapers gaping at the edge of the Badlands horizon.
Then, with a thick finger, he pressed the call button over Dakota Smith’s name.
Brrring-brrring- Brrring-brrring-
After a few dull rings, there was a click, and a woman’s voice filled the car.
"Saul. What kind of heap of junk did you dig up from which scrapyard this time? It’s been ten years since my security net caught an analog frequency this ancient."
It was Dakota Smith, the capable broker who understood the nature of the Badlands and Night City.
She naturally assumed the person calling on this emergency line was Saul Bright, and immediately started laying into him.
At her irritated reaction, Ji-hwan let out a dry snort.
"It’s not Saul. My name is Kim Ji-hwan."
At that calm reply, the air on the other end of the line seemed to freeze.
After a heavy silence, Dakota’s sharp voice came through again.
"Not Saul? Wait, this frequency... you’re not connecting through a personal link? It’s a raw analog device? How do you know Saul’s private network and how did you get on it?"
"Saul Bright handed me this phone himself. He said I’d need the help of a fixer like you if I wanted to get by in Night City."
At Ji-hwan’s dry explanation, Dakota let out a shallow breath.
The leader of the Aldecaldos, who was extremely wary of outsiders, would never have casually handed over something containing his personal contact network to a complete stranger.
She instantly understood the meaning of the old communicator in Ji-hwan’s hand and gave a scoff.
"A guy vouched for by Saul, huh... This is getting interesting. So? What, are you calling to have me wipe your ass or something?"
Even with Dakota’s sneering tone, Ji-hwan didn’t waver.
He stared out at the Night City skyscrapers gaping on the horizon and answered in a heavy voice.
"I’m confident I can take any job. Just give me a chance to prove it."
At that firm, swaggering demand, Dakota fell silent for a moment.
"Hmm...?"
A long, meaningful hum stretched through the speaker.
"Anything, huh? You won’t regret that?"
The strange nuance in her voice scraped coldly down Ji-hwan’s spine.
The seasoned fixer’s tone made it sound like she might shove him straight into a blood-soaked death trap at any moment, and for a second he felt a real pang of fear, wondering if he had just been stupidly cocky.
Ji-hwan swallowed hard and hurriedly added, "I... I think something light for the first one would be fine."
At Ji-hwan’s awkward retreat, Dakota’s cheerful laughter burst through the line.
"Ahaha! Good, I like honesty. Then how about I start you off with a light gig?"
That word, "light," came out with extra emphasis. Ji-hwan felt a deep sense of unease, as if there were a sharp bone hidden inside it.
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