How to Survive in a Fusion Punk

Chapter 26 – Identity

Learning is an endless process of self-improvement.

For sentient beings, growth never ceases as they recognize, perceive, and change through experience and training.

It is a sacred discipline in which a mere cluster of cells evolves into a full-fledged entity, forging itself into a better existence.

Jin had none of that.

When Jin lit a star, he skipped the grueling learning process entirely,
and refined knowledge was directly implanted into his mind.

The ultimate form of instant knowledge transmission.

Not even the best instructors could dream of such a thing.

The problem was that the recipient suffered for it.
Just like now.

“Agh, my head!”

Jin groaned as foreign knowledge flooded his mind.

It felt like someone was freely kneading the most delicate part of his body.

What the hell?

Why?

Wasn’t it fine when my mana went out of control?

Even through the pain, Jin felt wronged.

But he was mistaken.

Back then, the circumstances dulled his pain—a rush of adrenaline had numbed his senses, and the self-destructive nature of his mana surge gradually swallowed the agony.

It hadn’t been painless.

He simply hadn’t noticed the pain.

So, Jin had let his guard down, thinking he’d be fine this time.

And now, he was paying the price.

The only relief was that the suffering didn’t last long.

What, twenty seconds at most?

After a brief but intense bout of pain, Jin clutched his throbbing head and got up.

Anyway, I learned it!

Blink!

He then flashed across the cramped motel room, teleporting from one spot to another.

Confirming that the knowledge etched into his mind worked seamlessly in reality, Jin collapsed onto the bed.

I’m at my limit now.

Mentally exhausted, he closed his eyes without even bothering to wash.

***

Surprisingly, even Downtown had a city hall.

One might wonder how a government institution could exist in the abandoned 40s district.

It had been a belated response from the city government—an effort to oversee a few self-sustaining areas that had grown too large to ignore.

(Not all of the 40s districts were included.)

Naturally, the reception had been abysmal.

To the bureaucrats, it was the dead-end of all postings, a place they’d avoid at all costs.

To the locals, it was a blatant cash grab, an unwelcome intrusion on their turf.

As a result, apathy and corruption permeated the entire organization like the air itself.

Officially, it was a government office.

In reality, it was just another massive gang.

And that was exactly what the Operator planned to exploit.

“In this business, money solves everything.”

The man chuckled as he typed away on his keyboard.

His screen, cluttered like something out of a spy movie, constantly updated with new lines of text.

Jin peered at it.

A missing persons list.

Why are there so many?

This was Downtown, after all.

Countless people had vanished without a trace—most presumed dead.

“Male, twenties, missing for over three years, no criminal record, clean background…”

The Operator muttered to himself as he applied filters, his process resembling an online shopper selecting size, color, and price.

Jin let out a dry chuckle.

“Well. Plenty of similar profiles. Let’s go with this one.”

With a click, a name was selected.

A face appeared on screen—a man in his mid-twenties,
round and mild-looking except for his cybernetic eye.

But in the next moment—a few keystrokes later—

That same man had transformed.

Now, a decently handsome guy with a bewildered expression stared back.

Jin scratched his cheek.

So that’s why they took my picture the moment I got here?

If I’d known, I’d have at least gotten a haircut.

Then, the Operator spoke.

“Want me to change your name? If not, you’re Jose Martinez.”

“The hell? No way. Just make it Jin.”

“…Jin, huh. What about your last name? If you don’t have one in mind, I’ll randomize it.”

“Sure, whatever.”

Jin figured just ‘Jin’ was enough.

He nodded.

Soon, the Operator finished the task and grinned.

“Alright. From now on, you’re Jin Evernight. Kinda badass, actually… Anyway, cash or card?”

The inevitable moment of payment had arrived.

Jin shut his eyes tight.

“…Cash.”

“Got it. That’ll be 35 million credits.”

“What?! Wasn’t it 30 million?”

“It was. That is, until the city hall hiked up the mainnet usage fee for accessing the personal data database. I’m just a subcontractor, you know? Nothing I can do about it.”

Jin’s face darkened with despair.

30 million credits was already something he had to mentally prepare for, and now they were asking for another five on top of that.

Damn city bastards!

Can’t they let an illegal immigrant catch a break?!

Cursing inwardly, Jin reached into his coat with a resigned expression.

He pulled out five bundles of bills and placed them on top of the money bag, which was already packed with the agreed amount.

His hands trembled as he handed it over—shaking so much that they were barely distinguishable from those of an epileptic patient.

“…You’re making me feel guilty, handling it like that.”

The worker only said that while pocketing the money.

Leaving behind a brief farewell.

“Take care, Jin.”

[Jin Evernight / M4100227-AREA 47]

“……”

Jin sat crouched on the ground, staring down at the ID card in his hands.

He had spent a staggering thirty-five million just to get this tiny thing.

Nearly every credit he had.

This is why anything rectangular can’t be trusted.

Grumbling even at his status window for no reason, Jin let out a sigh.

Now, all he had left was around two million.

After buying a helmet, refueling, restocking ammo, and covering his lodging and meals, this was what remained.

It wasn’t exactly a small amount, but the realization that he could no longer open his wallet and be greeted by that rich, familiar scent of money was… a little depressing.

People never appreciate things until they’re gone.

Jin berated himself for ever thinking of money as a mere burden, gazing at his ID with misty eyes.

Still, he wasn’t entirely sad.

Finally, at long last, after so much struggle—

He had an identity.

Even if it was forged.

Maybe that’s why.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the feeling of belonging somewhere wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Even if that place was the goddamn Downtown.

It was then—

“…Wangkochu? Wangkochu, is that you?”

Jin’s eyebrow twitched at the unexpected voice.

Who the hell had the audacity to call him that when he had a perfectly good name?

Scowling, he looked up—only to see a figure standing with the sun at their back.

A man with a scruffy face, sporting a disaster of an outfit that screamed, ‘I just picked up whatever I could find.’

There was certainty in his gaze as he looked at Jin.

“It is you, huh? It’s me, Jeff. Don’t you remember me?”

Lowering his stance to match Jin’s eye level, he greeted him brightly, but Jin…

Well, he wasn’t sure.

More than anything, the stench of his breath was overwhelming.

“We know each other?”

“Of course! I even shared my food with you a few times. Not much, but still. It’s really you, right? You used to cry every night.”

That sudden, brutal attack on his dignity.

And just like that, vague memories began surfacing.

The most painful, miserable period of his life.

Jeff, huh?

Seemed like this guy had known him back when he was homeless.

But even then, Jin’s memory remained hazy.

Which made sense, considering that during the first couple of months in Downtown—while starving and suffering from hypothermia—he had been half a beast.

“……”

Feeling strangely melancholic, Jin planted his hands on his knees and stood up.

“Were we close?”

“Well… you didn’t talk much, so it was kinda hard to say. But, you know, we just… were. I wasn’t exactly in my right mind back then either, since it was freezing.”

Scratching the back of his head, Jeff stood up as well.

“When you disappeared, I figured you’d died or something. But damn, you’ve changed a lot. Honestly, I wasn’t sure at first. Didn’t know you looked like this back then. Man… you really hit the jackpot. Anyway, it’s nice running into you again.”

Maybe he was about to offer a handshake.

But as he reached out, he caught sight of Jin’s clean hands—so unlike his own.

Awkwardly, he retracted his arm and folded his hands behind his back.

“Ahem. Well, I’ll be off. Take care.”

“Wait.”

Jin called out, stopping Jeff in his tracks.

“Wanna grab some food? My treat.”

“……?”

Jeff blinked in confusion before shaking his head.

“Nah, I’m good. I eat fine these days.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. Let’s go.”

“No, really. I’m fine.”

Jin, recalling their starving days, insisted once more.

But all he got was rejection.

And so began an unexpected back-and-forth.

“Let’s go.”

“I’m not going.”

“Oh, come on, let’s go.”

“I said I’m not going!”

As their back-and-forth continued, Jeff finally snapped.

“RumPumPumPum food tastes terrible!”

“Huh?”

Jin blinked in surprise at the unexpected reason.

Jeff waved his hands dismissively.

“The food there is either too spicy, too salty, too sour, or too sweet—there’s no in-between. I hate it. I’m not going.”

“You’re a beggar, and you’re picky about food?”

“And you don’t need to buy me anything anyway. I’ve been eating at a much better place lately.”

Jin eyed him suspiciously.

“You? A better place?”

“Yeah. Wanna hear about it?”

“Go on.”

At Jin’s nod, Jeff folded his arms and explained.

“Over in North Downtown, some Purists set up a church. Yeah, a church—only they would come up with something like that. Anyway, they believe in some god or whatever. I don’t care. The important thing is that they offer free meals.”

Apparently, all you had to do was pretend to pray, and they’d give you food.

Jin tilted his head.

A free meal?

In Downtown?

Were there really suckers like that?

But it wasn’t like he could mock people for trying to help others.

And if these Purists were anything like the fantasy-obsessed types he had in mind, they might be even more devoted to humanitarian efforts.

“Don’t believe me? Come have a meal and see for yourself.”

Jeff’s offer made Jin hesitate.

Should he check it out?

He’d heard plenty about Purists but never actually encountered one.

This was a good chance to gather some intel.

And if things went south, he could always use the Blink spell he’d just learned.

So Jin asked,

“Do they serve a lot?”

“Yeah, plenty. And it’s good, too.”

“…Alright, let’s go.”

Leaving his manticore parked at the motel, Jin followed Jeff to North Downtown.

Sure enough, when they arrived, there was an actual church.

The interior wasn’t too different from what Jin expected.

At the end of a prayer hall lined with benches—properly called “pews,” though most people just called them church or music room chairs—there was a broad platform.

The only difference from back home was that instead of a cross, there stood a statue of a woman cradling a water jug in her arms.

A man who introduced himself as a priest welcomed them.

He said the statue represented the Goddess of Mercy, Nephetra.

“Welcome, brother. May the embrace of the Mother be with you.”

Jin, listening with mild interest, soon felt his stomach growl and cautiously asked,

“So… you really give out food here?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Following the priest downstairs, Jin saw people hunched over their plates, eating.

Their ragged clothes made it clear—just a year ago, he and his crew had looked just like that.

“Eat your fill, then come up to the prayer hall. Let us share in the Mother’s mercy.”

Next thing he knew, Jin was holding a plate and stepping into the long line for food.

It was even self-serve.

Hallelujah!

Or… whatever.

“Told you it was great, huh?”

Jeff nudged him with an elbow.

Jin, chewing a four-layered slice of pizza, spoke through puffed cheeks.

“How do they even afford this?”

“Apparently, some of their followers are loaded. And they don’t get their food from Downtown—everything comes from other districts.”

“That’s insane. If only RumPumPumPum was half this good…”

Jin stuffed himself until his stomach bulged, then went upstairs with newfound “faith.”

He listened to the sermon, went through the motions of praying, and left with a cheerful “See you tomorrow!”

Hope existed even in Downtown!

Jin was so thrilled that he returned the next day.

And the day after that.

Then, suddenly—

「(Emergency!) There’s No Such Thing as a Free Lunch」─────────

Escape the factory.

Reward: Perk XP 5,000
──────────────────

He got caught.

Kidnapped.