Chapter 78: To the Upper Layer (3)

Anywhere people lived was the same. Be it the lower layers or the upper ones, punks ran rampant everywhere, and they never failed to pick a fight the moment they spotted Lee Taebaek.

At this point, he couldn’t help but think he was a walking aggro magnet. Had he unknowingly awakened some gifted ability like that? If so, he’d be perfect as a warrior or paladin…

It probably wasn’t anything like that.

It was just that Lee Taebaek’s face was unnecessarily handsome, and Laykuns, proudly boasting its dystopian worldview, was teeming with every manner of freak and weirdo. So, having been born looking like this, a bumpy daily life was inevitable.

Still, dealing with them was over in a flash. In a dimly lit alley, no less. The punks harassing Lee Taebaek had gone quiet. Low groans lingered faintly, but they wouldn’t reach the outside. The vibrant buzz of ads—the essence of capitalism—would swallow them whole.

“Man, everywhere people live is just the same.”

Muttering to himself, Lee Taebaek suddenly looked up. The upper layer sky visible above the alley was clear. Not a single cloud, as if some unseen will had scrubbed it clean.

The skyscrapers thrust toward the heavens in majestic splendor. Dazzlingly white and gleaming, they draped themselves in three-dimensional hologram ads like velvet.

A pair of whales swimming through the air, scattering data fragments in their wake—it perfectly explained why the city was called Lake City. Lee Taebaek let out an inner sigh of awe.

‘Now it finally feels like I’ve arrived in Laykuns.’

If the lower layers gave off the vibe of a sketchy Korean neighborhood with poor security, the upper layers were the epitome of a futuristic metropolis. It stirred complicated feelings. Fresh wonder mixed with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. After all, this was the result of his soul being gnawed away back on Earth.

As a boss designer, he’d suddenly been saddled with city design duties one day. Without any warning whatsoever. It was as if the business division had drawn the legendary demon sword.

Compared to the Four Great Swords available to his practical team (temporary inspection, emergency inspection, routine inspection, extended inspection), it was an utterly vile and worst-of-the-worst demon blade.

Its name? The dry-as-dust “structural adjustment.”

– Where’d the city design team go?

– Aren’t they right here?

– …Pardon?

– Congratulations, Assistant Manager Lee. As of today, you’ve become Laykuns’s true creator. Real-life promotion’s still far off, but at least in the game you obsess over, you’ve made it big.

– Fuck. Isn’t that going too far?

– What?

– You’re making me curse, saying shit like that.

He’d come back from a rare day off, only to find an entire team vanished. That was the last time he’d clocked out.

‘Handing city design to a boss and leveling designer was the first hole in their heads. Fucking business division pricks… They’re Megacorp incarnate.’

There was a reason Laykuns’s Megacorps were depicted as especially ruthless. It mirrored his own life, and poof—a near-future dystopia sprang to life.

He’d even modeled the employees’ mindsets to assimilate with company culture, directly inspired by the business division staff. His entry-batch colleagues had changed after being reassigned there.

Want to know someone’s true nature? Hand them power. What a piercing truth.

The moment they felt “above” the tech team, they fell fast. They started as motivating peers but ended up looking down on tech with contempt.

The upper and lower layers were an extreme dramatization of that reality.

Even if lower-layer living standards had risen, upper residents wouldn’t mingle. From their view, the lowers were a slum of inferior bugs.

They could instantly spot lower-layer folk venturing up, sneering in disdain before meting out punishment. As he’d said—places where people lived were all alike.

“F-f-fuck… Y-you… D-do you… kn-know who m-me, us, w-we f-f-fucking are…?”

One spat froth, writhing. Lee Taebaek glanced down. The punk under him had lost one arm and one leg. Perfectly intact before crossing paths with him, of course.

“…Y-you fuck. I’ll r-remember this, you f-fucking bug…! Some lowborn scum crawling up from the lowers dares…!”

“…”.

“H-heh, heh, crawling up to the uppers and shit-talking, you lower-layer vermin… *Huff* You don’t even know how foul you lot reek, do you? Fucking disgusting.”

Fuming, the guy unleashed a torrent of words. Blood seeped from his knuckles clutching the stump.

“Think we spot you for no reason? *Huff* Lately, you’ve been scrambling for quick cash with stocks and coins, eyeing the uppers… Piece of shit doesn’t become human just ’cause it tastes some real food, fucker…! *Huff*”

Well, well. Acting all uppity just ’cause he’s upper-layer. Sharp tongue even in agony.

‘But this prick started the hassle.’

No despair despite the limbs gone. His legs were already cybernetic prosthetics; he could just get a new arm installed. In the uppers, bodies were replaceable anytime. The cost? Pocket change here.

“Hey.”

Lee Taebaek pressed down on the arm stump. Blood sprayed like a water gun.

“Gaaah—fuck—!!”

“I’ve dealt with this crap twice before, once in the lowers and once in the deepest lows. Killed ’em all one time, spared ’em the other. But toying with someone like this? First time. And you know what? It feels fucking shitty.”

“Fuck, what the hell are you on about!”

“So, what I’m saying is.”

As Lee Taebaek’s hand twitched, the guy flinched. He opened his eyes. The next sight? Lee Taebaek examining a badge peeled from his lapel.

“…Your Megacorp employee asses do this shit just ’cause you’re fed. Kidnapping people for human experiments and crap. Isn’t that too old-school?”

The group was Megacorp-affiliated. That explained the puffed-up shoulders.

But it backfired spectacularly. He’d planned a light thrashing and dip, but the badge gleamed too much. Narrowing his eyes for a closer look, they’d ramped up the harassment. Sexual taunts as baseline, fat-shaming without hesitation.

“Grrgh… Y-you bastard…!”

“Still, toughest punk I’ve seen. Most tuck tail at some point. Makes sense—you Siesta lot must get proper training.”

“You know us and still mess with us…?!”

Three of them. Only one left now. True to Rahankel’s words, his first day up top involved street cleaning.

Lee Taebaek smiled wryly. No shame whatsoever.

“You’re fucking dead. *Huff* Your info’s sharing real-time on our net sockets…”

“Perfect. Sharing means there’s a ‘hub,’ and hacking upstream works. I’ve got colleagues killer at hacking. Oh, and yesterday I got new ones who clean up trash like you. Even up here.”

“…What…?”

Without responding, Lee Taebaek strode toward three massive trash cans. He tapped the middle one like knocking.

“Naryeotagon.”

The code word got a reaction. The lid jittered up an inch, and a pair of eyes peeked out.

“The contents.”

He said, eyes gleaming.

“These guys are Siesta. Got a dedicated net socket hub—take ’em and investigate. Bound to turn up something to impress the Great Existence grandpa.”

“…Got it.”

The Gaebangdo nodded, lid still on like a hat. He hauled out, chucking the bodies into the side cans. Clunk-thud echoed hollowly each time. Not ordinary bins—these were entrances to underground passages, bottoms open like rat holes.

“Wh-what… the hell… is this…?”

The Megacorp employee paled in shock. He’d raged through colleagues’ deaths and dismemberments, but now his mind shattered.

Who’d imagine beggars lurking underground in the uppers? A hallmark of surface-dwellers. They gazed skyward, sneering down only at inferiors. Underground? Beneath notice.

And that was why Lee Taebaek had staked his life on a private meet with the Great Existence. The Resistance ran similarly, but cohesion and history differed. Unlike the fledgling Resistance, the Beggar Clan had roots in the City predating Megacorp’s tight surveillance. They’d built their own network early.

‘The uppers are my specialty.’

He’d filled the uppers with details himself. Knew the Beggar Clan’s mobile network inside out, plus every Easter egg. Even if the main scenario veered, those stayed intact. Para Blade was still with Fumito, after all.

“Check if they’re on cyber smack too. Might snag something the Great Existence praises you for.”

Leaning against the wall, Lee Taebaek watched. The Gaebangdo glanced over. He kept working silently, head swirling with questions.

He’d chalked the clash with Lee Taebaek and the punks (Megacorp employees) as coincidence. But the tone suggested intent.

‘Fair enough.’

The issue? Lee Taebaek casually knew their passages. Nailed the code, tapped the right bin to summon him.

‘Must have the Great Existence’s trust.’

He’d heard of some deal between them, apparently including contact points. Shaking off doubts, the Gaebangdo refocused.

“U-ugh, aaagh!”

As he approached, Employee A screamed. The beggar’s eyes darkened deeply. New face to him, maybe, but they’d seen this crew plenty. Dragging off women—ugly sights witnessed multiple times. Holding back the urge to kill outright had been torture. Until yesterday, the Great Existence’s “hands-off” order tied their hands against Megacorp trash.

Today was different.

The Gaebangdo’s arm moved.

Crack.

Snapped the neck like a chicken’s, tossed into the bin. Dusting his hands, he turned to Lee Taebaek.

“Something to say?”

“Nah, just clean work.”

“…?”

“If shit happens in 15th District Well Cain Street too, hit me up.”

Lee Taebaek turned away. Waved goodbye, vanishing into the crowd.

Those last words dispelled his lingering suspicions. Feeling relieved, the Gaebangdo climbed back into his bin.

The scene, now empty, was spotless—like the uppers always were. And would stay that way.

“So, you helped the Imugi.”

“Yes.”

The Gaebangdo reported via the Great Existence’s puppet. A Four-Knot, he was the Great Existence’s hands and feet. Unlike the righteousness-obsessed White Path.

“Good work.”

“…Yes.”

The puppet nodded curtly. Woman-shaped, yet housing a soul that clashed wildly.

Unsettled, the Gaebangdo bowed low, avoiding its gaze. Careful not to show discomfort.

“You have questions.”

“W-well…”

He’d detailed the events, but the Great Existence’s expression grew puzzled.

“Strange.”

“Pardon?”

“I never told him any of that.”

The Four-Knot paled.

– If shit happens in 15th District Well Cain Street too, hit me up.

The Imugi’s parting words resurfaced. Goosebumps turned to chills. Because 15th District Well Cain Street was the alley linked to this very passage entrance.

‘That guy knows everything…?’