The inside of the truck was faded in patches here and there.

Clunk, clunk.

Was it the truck’s internal parts groaning in agony from being broken, or was it because they’d left Lake City’s outskirts and were now rattling along an unpaved road? Either way, his right elbow, propped up on the passenger window frame, bobbed up and down at regular intervals.

Each time it happened, Lee Taebaek just clicked his tongue sharply, his brows furrowed in irritation. Kang Hyeonseong, driving in the seat next to him, rolled his eyes sideways to gauge his reaction.

“I seriously argued against it, you know? But what could I do? The Commander-in-Chief insisted.”

“…”

Silence. Beads of sweat formed on Kang Hyeonseong’s forehead.

“I really didn’t think things would turn out like this. But hey! The Commander-in-Chief said if we pull off this mission successfully, we’ll get a separate performance bonus!”

After the continued coaxing, Taebaek finally spoke up.

“…What fault is it of yours? That’s just how organizations work—when the higher-ups say jump, you jump.”

“I’m sorry, that’s why. Even though it’s your first mission, I begged Yu Dahui to let you ride shotgun. According to Lake City rules, rookies can’t sit there.”

True to his word, letting him sit in the passenger seat was a favor. But Taebaek wasn’t fool enough to take it at face value. It was a probe—right after grating on his nerves, he’d shown goodwill. The intent was to gauge what emotion he’d display next.

If he’d exploded in anger, he’d be labeled hot-tempered and unreliable. If he’d stayed silent, he’d be seen as two-faced and suspicious. It was a test, disguised as coincidence but meticulously designed. Like a tryout.

Depending on how I react, Kang Hyeonseong will score me in his head and report back to the Commander-in-Chief.

That’s why Taebaek tempered his emotions, showing just occasional tongue-clicks. Too humble would seem weak; too cocky, arrogant. The key was striking the middle ground.

Unbeknownst to himself, Lee Taebaek was naturally applying Raken’s survival tactics, honed from his time developing a near-future dystopia game. The concept he’d gained while asleep helped, but his deep understanding of the worldview was the biggest factor.

“Lighten up a bit, Taebaek.”

“Got it, got it. Why’s a Battalion Commander like you groveling to me? Am I a kid? You don’t need to coax me like this. Straighten your shoulders and drive.”

“As expected! All Korean guys are real men!”

At least you’re not. Taebaek muttered under his breath so it wouldn’t be heard, then smoothly rolled down the passenger window. A pleasant breeze tousled his bangs. Facing the polluted wind, he took in the view of Lake City.

Fluorescent neon lights dotted the horizon like harbor lanterns. The mountains and fields had long been cleared by human hands, replaced by forests of steel where greenery once thrived. In the city center lay a lake—a lone sweet rain that moistened the barren urban sprawl. Yeah. Just like Team Leader Seo had said…

“The genre’s the genre, but for resident welfare, throw in a lake. The name’s Lake City, after all. You’re making that face like it doesn’t make sense. How about this concept? Like…!”

“An oasis in the desert.”

“What do you think of Lake City from afar?”

“Not bad.”

“Right? Whoever laid the foundation made a fantastical city. Makes me want to see their face.”

He’s right next to you, Hyeonseong.

“So, what’s the specific mission? You put me in shotgun and we’re heading to District 42—I need to know the details. If you’re planning to stuff me in a drum barrel, I should prepare accordingly.”

“Kuhahaha, good one!”

Not entirely a joke. Watching Kang Hyeonseong laugh heartily from the side, Taebaek thought to himself.

“You know Lukaken company, Taebaek?”

“Famous pharma corp even in Korea. The ones who make Bagasse fatigue reliever. Why them?”

“Their Factory 1 is in District 42. 9th Battalion’s infiltrating as telecom workers. Guess this is your Lake City debut?”

“A debut under those storm clouds…”

Just like my future. Taebaek closed the window and recalled how he’d been roped into this mission.

He was the guy who’d humiliated the 8th Battalion’s Deputy Commander in front of everyone. And not even an official Resistance member—just an uninvited guest. His position was precarious, vulnerable to complaints.

Plus, 9th and 8th Battalions were already at odds. He’d basically poured oil on the fire. Sure enough, 8th Battalion Commander Doctor Pepper was likely to make a fuss.

That’s why 9th Battalion wanted to drag Taebaek along, rack up results fast, and secure speaking rights beforehand. Hence being yanked out mid-kimchi stew. Rumor had it that it was the Commander-in-Chief’s idea.

Anyway.

That summed up the situation. Putting a period on his lengthy musing, Taebaek spoke up again.

“Lukaken’s got a pretty good image, though. They even have a separate foundation donating to the starving.”

He asked even though he knew, pretending ignorance to ease Kang Hyeonseong’s guard or pry into his thoughts.

“You’ve got a naive side, Taebaek! Well, you’re fresh off the boat from Korea, a country bumpkin new to Lake City—your fellow countryman bro’s gotta school you!”

Kang Hyeonseong’s face lit up. Easy to handle in his own quirky way.

“In this city, mid-sized corps with good images are one of two types. Either they forced the image themselves, or they licked city gov bureaucrats’ asses so hard they got prettied up.”

“Which is Lukaken—former or latter?”

“Both.”

Kang Hyeonseong shrugged while gripping the wheel.

“Even for a pharma company, Lukaken throws money around like crazy. Three foundations alone.”

“At that rate, donations might be their real business. Too sincere to be sincere.”

“That image-building paid off—they’re a bland mid-tier, but cozy with city gov.”

Kang Hyeonseong stared ahead as he spoke.

“Gotta be they shoved adult-toy-sized wads of cash up bureaucrats’ asses till shit leaked. Thanks to that, they’re tangled with the megacorps hovering over city gov too.”

“They wouldn’t launch an investigation just on suspicion of megacorp ties. Plenty of such companies. There must be another purpose.”

“Sharp as hell. Yeah. What shady shit they’re doing to burn cash like that—the source of those funds is our mission goal.”

“Source of funds…”

“Any guesses?”

I know all about it, but…

“Beats me. Like you said, what would a bumpkin know?”

Their funding sources, and the plots behind that saintly image—he knew it all like the Buddha’s palm.

“Don’t tell me you’re sulking over that? A proud son of the Republic of Korea?”

“Cut the crap. Eyes on the road.”

Taebaek turned away coldly. No reason to spill it—would just breed awkwardness.

Besides, he was plotting future plans with this info edge. For that, with gigs falling into his lap, he needed to stack cash now. Eye-popping sums.

He also had to periodically launder his identity, and to have unearned income in Lake City, he needed at least tens of billions. Cybermoney was too risky. Cash was best.

And illicit deals or smuggling? Always cash. Lukaken too.

Hope today’s the deal day…

Leaning his forehead on the window, he smirked briefly. Kang Hyeonseong glanced over, saw the reflection, and grinned too.

“Not like a Siesta Watchdog alum to get this pumped for fieldwork. Even I was nervous on my first op. You? Not shaking—you’re smiling. Neither of us normal folk.”

“Driver not watching the road, peeking?”

“Waiting on the signal, signal.”

Kang Hyeonseong tapped the wheel with his nails, then floored it when the light changed.

“If you’re chill, catch some Z’s. Looks close, but still an hour. I’ll wake you.”

The truck passed a hologram billboard. A man flanked by two potbellied kids. He was so fat his eyes sank into smiling flesh.

The hypocrite’s painted-looking face made him frown. He clicked his tongue and looked away.

“Night night.”

“Out like a light. Heartless bastard.”

“Drive safe.”

Taebaek closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Kang Hyeonseong chuckled dryly at how fast he conked out.

“…Not sure if he’s that confident or just bold.”

The cramped elevated road widened, surroundings emptying magically. Their truck sped from downtown toward smog-shrouded factory lands.

“Contact the checkpoint right now. Control all external vehicles entering tonight. If they must enter, limit to District 6.”

“What’s going on so suddenly, VP?”

“Other side moved it to today.”

“What?! Out of nowhere like this? Not even a midnight thunderbolt!”

“Fuck if I know. How’s a white-collar like me supposed to predict thug whims? Fucking thugs, ugh. Good we stashed the goods separately…”

“If you say thugs, then tonight’s counterpart is not city gov but gangs. We’ll prep ‘product’ not raw materials for VIP.”

“Good. Tell the kids to gather goods in District 7. Oh, and the President’s coming personally today—pick the sharpest ones.”

“Lukaken Junior—the President himself?!”

“No idea what wind blew that way, tsk. Anyway, Secretary Kim, I’ll keep it short. You know—today’s business must not reach city gov ears unless absolutely necessary. It’ll get messy.”

“Understood.”

“City gov we can buy off, but megacorps mustn’t know. Absolutely. Caught, it’s not just fucked—our whole line ends. So drill it into the underlings.”

“…Yes.”

“Don’t pussy out. You’ve handled it fine so far. Right, need cash too—prep boxes or carriers.”

“Deal size today?”

The VP patted the secretary’s cheek as he spoke.

“100 billion.”