Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 39: Golden Murdock (2)
Amber’s ghost capture ended, unfortunately, far too quickly.
The ghost had escaped—transcending time and space.
When she tried to blow dust on it to see its form while caught on the magnet, it started furiously rubbing its face with its hands like it was ticklish.
And then, just like that, it vanished.
According to the distortion field detector, it had instantaneously moved from the counter to the far end of the store.
It was literal teleportation.
If it were human, it would be like being strapped to a bed while someone dumped a barrel of dust on your face. The reaction was understandable.
Still, it wasn’t a complete loss.
For a brief moment, she’d seen the shape of the ghost’s face through the dust, even the shape of its mouth.
That short glimpse of visual data had value.
Amber pulled up the saved visual data and cross-referenced it with every trace she’d collected so far.
She fed it all into the Seoul Office’s facial reconstruction AI.
The result that appeared on the screen wasn’t perfect.
No color. Eye details and other fine features were still unclear.
But the general shape was distinct.
Long hair drooping to one side, uniquely notched hands and feet, that body type...
Strangely, it resembled A.
Maybe that’s why Amber found herself wanting to catch this harmless ghost.
So, learning from her earlier failure, she created a new substance instead of dust.
Something that would react to the distortion field like dust—but light, and fast-hardening when exposed to air.
She called it “Distortion-Responsive Liquid.”
Its core ingredient? Surprisingly, melted-down AI frame components.
After all, the material that responded to the field was AI frame tech itself.
Thanks to all the engineers in the Burning Duct slicing and welding those frames constantly, powdered AI frames were everywhere.
So the reason the dust reacted to the distortion field? It was because of the AI frame particles in it.
Three hours later, when the ghost returned, Amber was ready.
She trapped it again with the magnet, then gently sprayed the Distortion-Responsive Liquid.
The liquid dried fast in the air, coating the ghost’s shape in a thin shell.
Like magic, the invisible being started to take on a translucent outline.
Once the ghost’s form became clear, Amber slowly reached out her hand.
[...]
The ghost also slowly reached out—placing its tiny palm atop Amber’s hand.
The ghost opened its mouth wide, startled. It looked shocked that it had made contact.
It touched me!
Amber felt a small sense of pride.
It was like first contact with an alien lifeform.
The ghost, still curious, poked the back of Amber’s hand like a mischievous child.
The two pressed their hands together, gently tapping fingers like it was a game.
The ghost behaved in a shockingly human way.
It reacted to tickling, laughed, showed curiosity.
Maybe it was because it was so late at night—
The ghost began to slow down.
Like it was getting sleepy.
Then it curled up in the corner of the counter and fell asleep.
Just then, the office door swung open with a familiar jingle.
Jalang.
Amber turned her head and saw A walking in, wearing the triumphant look of a returning hero.
Her face was beaming with the confidence of a mission successfully completed.
“Mission complete!”
A shouted with a radiant smile.
“Good work, A.”
Amber smiled in return.
****
Once white buildings that had lured countless people in the name of religion—the Machina Cult’s halls—now stood empty.
They had once stood like pure white fortress walls cutting off the black earth beyond, but now they were ruins no one visited.
The priests who once handed out free meals with a smile, and the masses drawn in by their words—gone.
Even after the cult fell, the black earth beyond those white walls remained.
The steeples that had endlessly pumped out smoke were now tilted and collapsed. The dark smoke that had blanketed the sky dispersed, revealing blue.
But the toxic material soaked into the soil remained, and no one dared step onto the black earth.
Time passed.
And one day—
Titan # Nоvеlight # Tech agents began swarming across the black earth.
They were all wearing enhanced biohazard suits, carrying high-end scanners and analysis devices.
Each one had top-tier Titan Tech security clearance.
Even inside Titan Tech, only a handful knew what these agents were really doing.
Suddenly, a stir rippled through the group of elite agents.
A Titan Tech priority aircraft appeared overhead.
Every agent turned their gaze toward the descending craft.
When it landed, the hatch opened—and a man stepped out.
Dominic Krilov, Director of Development at Titan Tech.
He had a strong, square-jawed face and a powerful body, the kind you wouldn’t expect from a development director.
In this toxic environment, he stepped out of the aircraft without even a mask—and barked out a command.
“Everyone, back to work!”
His voice echoed across the black earth.
It carried weight. Authority. The agents immediately returned to their stations.
Dominic pointed at one agent nearby.
“You. Give me a direct report.”
The agent stiffened, nervous, and began to speak.
“Traces of Sakamata—a megacorp not active in this region—were found nearby. This area appears to have been located on the far side of Babel until recently. Please refer to the attached report for details.”
The moment he finished speaking, an AR report floated into Dominic’s field of vision.
<Machina Cult Spatial Analysis Report>
– Titan Tech Special Investigation Bureau
– Clearance Level: Top Secret – Alpha Level Required
<Investigation shows the Machina Cult periodically shifted its physical location using spatial instabilities triggered after the Great Convergence.>
<Evidence indicates a minimum of 17 spatial jumps. Intervals: irregular.>
<Conclusion: These spatial phenomena likely allowed the cult to operate undetected by other megacorps for over a decade.>
Dominic skimmed the report at lightning speed, then stared coldly at the agent.
“I’d prefer you leave out useless reports. You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
The agent straightened up, tense as ever, and continued.
“We’ve detected traces of MK Corp’s ‘virus.’ It appears deeply tied to the cult’s origin and continued existence.”
Dominic’s expression shifted slightly.
His eyes sharpened. The corners of his mouth twitched.
He looked calm on the surface—but up close, there was a deep, seething rage in his expression.
“So it’s true. That damn AI killer did something here.”
Dominic’s reaction was understandable.
MK Corp’s virus was considered the biggest reason why no existing AI could reach singularity.
The main culprit behind AI corruption and the emergence of erosion zones—nicknamed the AI Killer.
As Director of Development, Dominic had dedicated his entire life to pushing his company’s AI to the singularity...
To him, MK Corp’s virus was unforgivable—a direct threat to the advancement of human civilization.
After hearing the report, Dominic surveyed the site for a long time.
The scattered circuit shards where cult priests had fallen and died, metal implants, and discarded weapons.
He observed it all with a serious expression.
Then something caught his eye.
A tiny trace the other agents had missed.
The 𝘮ost uptodat𝑒 novels are pub𝙡ished on freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
Smaller than a fingernail—an erosion zone forming on the ground.
It was slowly contracting, fading away.
****
A few days had passed since the incident at the Machina Cult.
The red sunset had vanished beyond the Burning Duct’s horizon, and neon signs began to push back the night.
Just like I’d sworn after encountering those violet bastards, I was doing everything I could to find MK Corp—and Korea.
It was important, so I’d drawn up a plan. As systematic as I could manage.
First: entrust Amber with my “more precious than blood” pizza fund and commission her to investigate.
Second: resume outer-rim exploration, which I’d quit a long time ago.
Babel’s boundaries were unstable, and sometimes new spaces connected out of nowhere.
If I got lucky, I might find a trace of Korea.
And third...
Was what I was doing right now.
“Run! That psycho bitch’s here!”
“It’s the Pizza Maniac!!”
Screams erupted as a few gang members bolted out the back door.
The reason they got attacked by me was simple—their gang name was in Hangul.
My third plan was: barge into any gang or group with a Korean name and interrogate them for links to Korea.
This was the third gang hideout I’d raided this week.
“Is that all of them?”
The once-crowded hideout was now dead silent.
Everyone was either dead, or had fled—except one guy I’d knocked out.
On the main wall of the hideout, someone had spray-painted in big letters: SEOUL DEVIL.
The inside looked exactly how a gang hideout should.
Walls covered in neon graffiti.
Boxes filled with bloody implants—looked like they’d ripped them straight outta someone.
Crumpled sofas, a busted TV.
A corpse nailed to the wall instead of a dartboard.
Cheap drugs and even cheaper white rice porridge on the table.
A raw, brutal street vibe soaked every inch of the place.
I slowly walked toward the guy I’d knocked out.
Gave him a couple of light taps on the cheek with my fist to wake him.
“Uuugh...”
The guy—KO’d from a hit to the back of the head—blinked in confusion, then locked eyes with me.
“AAAAARGH!!”
He started screaming his lungs out, so I punched him once more—right on the crown of his skull.
Thankfully, that calmed him down.
“Your gang’s called ‘Seoul Devil.’ Why? You connected to Seoul or what?”
His face went pale as a sheet.
Eyes wide, he shook his head violently from side to side.
“N-no connection! I swear we have nothing to do with it! We just... just thought it sounded cool! I’m sorry! I won’t use Hangul ever again! Long live the megacorps!”
I let out a sigh and crushed his skull.
Another waste of flesh erased from this world.
“Another dead end...”
Korean Dragon, Seoul Laser, Kimchi Warrior, Taeguk Street...
All of them just thought the names sounded cool.
My shoulders sagged from the disappointment.
Suddenly, my AR interface blinked. Incoming call.
“Who is it?”
The caller ID was unfamiliar, but I accepted the transmission.
“Greetings. Am I speaking to the one they call the Pizza Maniac, Ms. A?”
A low, soft voice—but it carried a strange charisma.
“Who are you?”
“The name is Golden Murdock. I’m calling because I have a job for you.”
I paused for a moment.
Golden Murdock.
Never heard of him.
“Jobs go through Amber at the Seoul Office. That’s the rule.”
“Rules, yes... I understand. But this is a rather special job, you see. If you’re interested, come to Neuron Nectar in Eastern Babel. I’ll be waiting.”
He ended the call without another word.
I stared blankly into space.
Neuron Nectar? That’s... a damn pricey place.
Neuron Nectar was a luxury spot in Eastern Babel.
The kind of place only megacorp execs went to—where a single drink cost as much as my entire pizza fund.
Amber’s a hardcore analog freak, so I’ll have to go ask her in person...
I turned and began walking slowly toward the Burning Duct—to ask Amber who the hell this Golden Murdock guy was.
