Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 78: Rina Cortez (8)

Seoul Dino Park, drifting leisurely in its cozy shadows.

I was sprawled out on one of its soft sofas, poking at Agu’s plump little tail while the sound of the TV buzzed in the background like white noise.

“Kyuuuiiing...”

Every time I touched its tail, Agu twisted its body just slightly, letting out a groan of annoyance.

The TV continued to blast those con-artist-tier ads from the Babel corporations without a break.

Then suddenly, I remembered the corpse in chains I had seen in the warehouse at the Hexa Core Armory.

The blue mist, the grotesque webs, and the ominous voice that had echoed from within them.

“It shall become one.”

At first, I had dismissed it as just another hallucination brought on by the Erosion Domain.

But after hearing about Rina Cortez’s final words from Ember, that voice began to feel far more significant.

Rina Cortez had cursed, “If you interfere with us, the End cannot be avoided...”

And «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» that corpse had whispered, “The postponed annihilation shall arrive with the true advent of the universe.”

Two different voices, yet somehow they pointed to the same conclusion.

<<The End will come, inescapably.>>

And yet, beyond Dino Park’s external observation systems, Babel looked as unchanged as ever.

On the TV, painfully bright commercials kept flashing nonstop.

Out in the streets, ingredients unimaginable a hundred years ago were sold cheap, just because they were cheap.

The megacorps still built their wealth by leeching off the masses.

People, chasing better performance—or just to show off—lopped off perfectly healthy limbs and replaced them with machines, no hesitation.

Downtown was so saturated with holograms and AR signals you could go blind, but take one step away and the reek and shadows of the slums swallowed the city whole.

Everything looked like the usual Babel.

In the ordinary day-to-day of Babel, there wasn’t a single sign of annihilation.

‘Still... I should keep it in mind.’

This unknown End... and MK Corporation.

My gut told me the two were deeply connected.

Maybe, just maybe, the clues I’d been hunting—about MK and about Korea—were hidden there.

“Hmm...”

I turned my head at a low groan.

Still wrapped around me like a giant cushion, Aria lay with her eyes closed.

Her breathing was soft, steady. But something about her sleeping face seemed... uneasy.

‘Aria still looks sick.’

Emergency care should’ve cleaned up her wounds completely.

But her complexion was still pale, and every now and then her brow furrowed as she let out a faint moan.

She was spending most of the day asleep, too.

Aria wasn’t the type to exaggerate like Agu. So maybe it wasn’t her body that was damaged.

Something about that corpse’s voice... the blue webbing... It all felt strangely spiritual.

That thought made me chuckle a little.

Spiritual wounds, huh?

Even a hundred years ago—the time I was from—that kind of talk would’ve been written off as nonsense.

But now, in this cyberpunk world where science and technology had reached their extreme, it was ironic that occult-sounding crap like that was starting to feel real.

In this world ruled by capitalism, machines, and AI... the supernatural was starting to feel closer.

Probably because of the absurd upheavals and the Erosion Domain.

My laugh made Aria shift slightly in her sleep.

I held my breath and turned my gaze back to the TV.

That’s when I heard a scuffle from the corner.

The Golden Child and the Red Child were grappling on the floor, tumbling around with each other.

?

It wasn’t just play. Their movements were too intense.

It was more like... they were testing their strength. Like they were instinctively learning combat techniques.

When the Red Child threw a tiny punch, the Golden Child’s eyes went wide in surprise.

[Ack!]

The Golden Child tried to dodge, but the Red Child’s fist landed square in their squishy cheek.

Fwoof-fwoof.

Their cheek wobbled like something cute out of a cartoon—and then the Golden Child went flying, rolling backward across the floor.

Ever since seeing the blue mist, the two had started playing rough like this.

Why?

Could it be they were training for battle... just in case the End really was coming?

Watching their intense brawling, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

If I had confronted Rina Cortez directly, maybe I could’ve gotten my hands on that gray-white flame of hers...

But that thought quickly vanished.

Because if I had faced Rina Cortez, it would mean Ember and Victor had never discovered the chained corpse.

And if someone else had found that corpse instead of me, they’d have been devoured by the blue webs and died right then and there.

Thinking that, I actually felt... relieved.

‘Phew.’

Watching the kids now, hair locked in each other’s fists, arms and legs a blur as they went at it at high speed—I let out a breath of relief without even realizing it.

****

Hector was walking the halls of Hexa Core Armory’s headquarters—Castle—for the first time in a very long while.

The heavy footsteps of his mechanical body echoed low through the quiet corridor.

Staff hurried past him, sneaking glances that mixed reverence with fear.

The only reason he was able to return to HQ like this... was because the Reinhardt faction’s leadership had been completely wiped out.

The moment Rina Cortez died, they all died too.

Like toys with their power switched off—plop, and they collapsed.

It was an ending far more dramatic than Hector had expected.

He never imagined the death of just Rina Cortez would trigger such an immense ripple.

And it wasn’t only her direct subordinates who died at the exact same moment.

Even within Ludwig’s faction, to which Hector belonged, there had been a significant number of deaths.

That meant there were far more spies embedded in the ranks than anyone had guessed.

And on the list of sudden deaths was the name of none other than Reinhardt Eisenhardt, who until recently had been considered the most likely heir to Hexa Core Armory.

A once-promising figure who had seemed destined to become a towering leader of the Armory.

His final moment was pathetic—too empty, too unworthy.

They’d become enemies in the end, but Hector had respected the man in his own way. That only made the loss more bitter.

["How far along is the investigation?"]

As if trying to shake off his thoughts, Hector asked his adjutant in a low voice as the man followed beside him.

The adjutant, visibly tense, tapped away at a datapad and began his report.

“Based on the data we’ve gathered so far... it appears Reinhardt died several months ago.”

Hector’s red cybernetic eye turned to him.

["Several months ago? But just a few days back, Reinhardt was still actively leading his faction in public, wasn’t he?"]

He could still clearly remember Reinhardt on live broadcasts, raging against Ludwig’s faction.

The adjutant swallowed dryly and continued.

“Yes, sir. According to our analysis team, the same likely applies to the other deceased personnel as well. Most likely... they were already dead, and their corpses were being puppeteered using some form of unknown technology.”

Puppeteered corpses.

At those words, something flickered through Hector’s mind.

He remembered the strange sense of déjà vu he’d had when analyzing the biometric data from the recent deaths.

He fell silent, thinking.

Rapidly pulling from the tangled archives of internal data, he searched for anything relevant.

And finally—the missing pieces of a distant memory clicked into place.

The report distributed officially by BPD to all megacorporations.

A string of recent disappearances and murders in the Babel outskirts. Codename: Puppet Strings.

The biometric data from that report’s victims... and the data from these recent internal deaths... were eerily similar.

The thought struck, and Hector didn’t hesitate another second.

["Bring me the files. All of them. Every BPD report related to Puppet Strings."]

The adjutant looked startled for a moment—but quickly bowed and rushed to carry out the order.

“Yes, sir. I’ll have it prepared immediately.”

As the adjutant disappeared down the corridor, Hector’s red mechanical eye gleamed coldly.

Rina Cortez. Puppet Strings.

And MK Corporation.

A heavy sense of dread pressed against his chest—maybe behind all of this, there was something far bigger lurking than even he could imagine.