005: The Butterfly Effect of the Mercenary Market

It seemed the orc boss had mistaken Angela for some kind of super-cyborg. That wasn't surprising. These days, it wasn't unheard of for people to replace their entire bodies, transferring their original memories, personalities, and souls into fully mechanical shells. In fact, mechanical modification was even cheaper than biological modification.

But Hayden was still very dissatisfied with the orc boss's phrasing.

"You can talk all the shit you want, but you shouldn't run your mouth, Kakug. Who says a girl can't make herself pretty and be built like a military-grade golem?"

He poked the orc boss's head with his index finger, his tone threatening.

Angela's body had been designed by Hayden himself, after all.

If this orc boss knew that Angela was actually Hayden's clockwork wife, he would have surely cursed, "Who the hell gives their sex doll combat functions?! Are you insane?! Aren't you afraid of getting your dick caught and chopped off?!"

But Hayden would have surely replied—what kind of tech-otaku doesn't give his ideal robot wife military-grade combat functions? Don't you understand that mecha-girls need more weapons and equipment?

That was why Angela's 158-centimeter-tall body could run faster than a cannonball, jump higher than a skyscraper, and had the strength of a locomotive. Her eyes could see fingerprints, her sensors could hear how many needles had dropped on the carpet in the next room, and her bodysuit and nano-skin had the strength of military-grade combat armor.

So the cost of her materials alone had used up ten years of Hayden's savings. She was an absolute military-grade contraband item.

Not only that, but the above was only the inherent attributes of Angela's clockwork mechanical body. Her current AI was something even Hayden couldn't comprehend. Just thinking about all the things she had whipped up last night to make him dinner, Hayden felt that Angela's combat power was probably unfathomable.

So the rest of the fight was naturally not worth mentioning. A few orc punks charged forward, howling, either swinging knives and axes or shooting shoddy combat magic from cheap phone apps. But the latter, no matter how many there were, couldn't hit Hayden, and the former... well, let's just say. After everything that hit her shattered like tofu, and Angela had chopped down three orc punks like she was cutting vegetables, the rest all fled, covering their heads.

"Alright, Kakug. Let's cut to the chase."

Hayden squatted down, narrowing his eyes at the orc boss.

"Look, we both know what you're doing. Selling Dream-Chips, turning this whole building into a crash pad for your customers to fry their brains."

"Fuck you!" the orc immediately yelled back, even louder. "What business is it of yours if I buy a piece of land to do legitimate business?"

So Hayden sighed and resorted to something more efficient than words. He swung a punch, knocking out one of the orc boss's yellowed fangs. Hayden had never learned any martial arts, but even an orc's thick bones couldn't withstand the adamantite plating on his gloves.

"Legitimate business? You've got guts, I'll give you that. Honestly, I don't care if you're slinging chips and drugs to adults. Everyone needs an escape hatch sometimes. But you crossed a line. My client is paying me because you started pushing this stuff on kids, getting them hooked and turning them into your little schoolyard dealers. That's why I'm here."

The person who had paid Hayden to "deal with" this place was the parent of an ordinary kid from the Bay District.

They said their son was a good kid who had gotten mixed up with a bad crowd. They said he was still too young, but a gang of orcs had lent him money to try it once, gotten him addicted, and then charged him an exorbitant interest rate, forcing him to sell Dream-Chips at school to pay them back. In the end, they had no choice but to go to the bar of the dwarf cowboy, Boss Todak, and beg for help with their meager savings.

Because Boss Todak was the most famous fixer in the Bay District.

What was a fixer? An intermediary with extensive contacts and a wide network, who connected urban mercenaries with clients. Theft, assassination, kidnapping, smuggling... a fixer could potentially set you up with any illegal activity you could think of. Of course, they charged a fee for their services, because they were the street-level information brokers of this era. Fixers were not uncommon throughout New Atlas.

When Hayden asked Todak about recent jobs, the fixer told him: two street gangs were looking for some outside muscle; someone wanted to smuggle a shipment of medicine overseas; someone wanted a professional to subtly spread some salacious rumors about a celebrity's affair; and finally, Todak told him someone was looking for a mercenary to bust up a Dream-Chip den.

So the job fell into the hands of Hayden, who was in desperate need of money to pay his bills. He took it as soon as he heard what it was about.

And now the orc boss was lying paralyzed on the ground.

The metal half of the orc's body—his arm, leg, and half his face—scraped against the concrete floor, leaking as much hydraulic fluid and circulation liquid as blood. He had spent the money he earned from selling Dream-Chips to modify his body, to make himself look fierce and powerful.

But now, he was just a pile of scrap metal.

"Client's orders. They wanted you to know why this was happening before you check out. And they wanted a recording. Job's done."

Hayden flicked the magic eye on his collar with his index finger, then aimed it at the orc's head.

"Whoa, whoa, easy! I'm small-time, just pushin' chips! I know the guy who supplies the whole city! I'll give him up, just don't zero me!"

The orc boss finally began to beg for mercy with a wail.

Hayden was actually a little curious where he got his Dream-Chips from.

"You said it yourself, man. 'What business is it of yours?' So yeah, not my problem. Time for you to go."

But he couldn't be bothered to get involved. This job was already finished.

Destructive magical energy shot from his fingertip, cooking the orc boss's head from the inside out, like heating up a hot dog in a microwave.

The other orc punks had long since scattered.

So Hayden stretched and turned to Angela, who was standing beside him.

"So... that's a pretty typical day at the office for me. Any thoughts?" he asked, testing her.

Angela thought for only half a second.

"Forgive my forwardness, Master, but this one has calculated our finances. The debt of twelve thousand, seven hundred and ninety-four coins must be settled by month's end. This current task yields a mere fifteen hundred coins. I fear this path will not lead to our solvency in the allotted time."

Then she said something that completely took Hayden by surprise.

"If I may be so bold, Master... why did you accept this particular commission? From a purely logical standpoint, it seems... an inefficient use of your considerable talents."

He hadn't expected her to ask such a question.

Hayden had been trying to probe the attitude of this seemingly out-of-control AI towards making money by killing people, and now her answer had left him speechless.

So, after much thought, he could only reply, "Because I felt like it!"

You can't buy my happiness with a thousand pieces of gold!

Angela nodded in understanding. "Ah, I understand now. The Master's will is paramount. This one accepts your judgment without question."

Then she turned and stared at the corridor full of orc corpses for a while before murmuring, "These creatures... they would not make a suitable repast for you, Master. As this one determined earlier, the fish I procured will serve as a much more appropriate midday meal."

That sent a chill down Hayden's spine. He did not want this out-of-control servant to roast him a troll steak one day. That would be terrifying.

In fact, although Angela said Hayden's choice was inefficient, the recent jobs Boss Todak could give him didn't pay well. An urban mercenary's fee was split fifty-fifty with the fixer, so Hayden had only earned fifteen hundred from this job, not even twenty percent of his bill, and he only had five and a half days left to raise the money.

Fortunately, he knew more than one fixer.

New Atlas was a big city, and Hayden knew many fixers. He was bound to find a big score.

Right?

Because Angela placed great importance on Hayden eating three healthy meals on time, after reporting the results to Boss Todak on his phone, Hayden rushed home. As she had said, the main course for lunch today was the salmon she had caught in the deep sea. The fish was lightly marinated and pan-fried in butter, with a squeeze of lemon juice and a sprinkle of rose salt, then served to Hayden.

He had only taken one bite when he felt the rich flavor of the fatty fish spread through his mouth, and he was instantly intoxicated, the warm juices almost overflowing from the corners of his mouth. How on earth did she create such a flavor that stirred his very life instincts? Hayden couldn't understand it at all.

And Angela watched him eat with satisfaction. Although she couldn't eat, and even if she did, her body couldn't digest it, just watching Hayden so happy made her look as blissful as if she were eating it herself.

However, no matter how happy he was eating at home, the heavy problem of the bills still had to be solved.

Soon, all the fixers Hayden knew in New Atlas had replied to his messages, telling him that there were no jobs recently that could earn him over ten thousand Federation Coins before the end of the month.

This was trouble.

Being an urban mercenary sounded cool, but most of the time, it didn't pay much. Most of Hayden's work was no different from that of a regular private investigator: surveilling cheating spouses, catching deadbeats, finding missing persons, and so on.

These jobs didn't earn him much. After all, a job anyone could do only paid what anyone could earn.

And the jobs that involved stealing, sabotage, infiltration, kidnapping, smuggling, bodyguarding, and even killing weren't available every day. In other words, not everyone could earn that kind of money. Hayden had killed the orc boss Kakug and earned fifteen hundred Federation Coins in half a day, while a lower-class wage earner only made two thousand a month. Sounded like being a mercenary was a good gig, right?

But any sane person knew that breaking into a drug den and killing twenty-some orc punks, including a heavily modified orc boss, was by no means an easy task. How many people would it take? At least three or four skilled hands, plus good equipment, and it would consume a lot of mana from start to finish. All of that cost money and required preparation time. If three people did it together, they would each only earn five hundred coins. Considering the expenses, they might not even make a profit. And maybe, with bad luck, a mana arrow from an orc punk's phone would hit you right in the eye, go through your head, and bang, you're dead.

On the other hand, the fixers... they weren't exactly good people either.

The dwarf, Boss Todak, said Hayden was the best lone wolf mercenary in the Bay District, but in reality, Hayden was probably the only lone wolf mercenary. Life wasn't a game; most people only had one. Solo mercenaries usually died within a year of their debut. Sane urban mercenaries worked in teams to take on jobs.

"Then why is Master a solo mercenary?" Angela asked curiously. Would it not be more prudent to form an alliance with others of your profession?"

Hayden smiled faintly and replied, "Because I'm a genius."

"Ah, this one understands," Angela nodded knowingly. "My master is a person with no friends."

What the—how did her AI come to that conclusion?

"Don't be ridiculous. I've got friends, alright? They're just not in this line of work." Hayden immediately retorted.

"Please do not be troubled, Master. Regardless of whether you have friends , this one shall remain by your side, always," Angela replied with a gentle smile. "For it is my purpose to love you and to aid you in finding happiness."

She was really good at smiling—that genuine smile that made you feel warm. The irony was, she was just an out-of-control AI, a mechanical doll.

So even though this was the second time Angela had said it, Hayden couldn't help but feel embarrassed. How could this AI always have "I love you" on the tip of her tongue?

"Ahem, let's get back to business," he cleared his throat, clumsily changing the subject. "Fixers like dealing with solo guys like me. Less hassle than a whole team. I know people all over New Atlas, so finding a good gig won't be a problem. We're fine."

Angela immediately clapped her hands.

Hayden had no idea what she was trying to express, so he just took out his phone and started contacting the other fixers he knew. He also wanted to take this opportunity to observe what Angela would do when she had nothing to do, but he saw that after washing the dishes, Angela actually took out a Dream-Chip and began to dismantle it with great interest.

Where did she get that from—ah, right, she must have picked it up from the drug den just now. Hayden had casually blown up most of the stuff with magic before leaving, but he didn't have the patience to carefully inspect every inch of the walls and floor.

"I see. If I just take this circuit apart and reconnect it like this... Ah, please pay it no mind, Master," Angela said with a smile, turning her head as she sensed Hayden's gaze. "This one has already neutralized the protection spells within and ceased its data transmission. There is no cause for concern."

What could Hayden say? She had thought of everything. He could only continue to focus on contacting his own network.

So, soon, Hayden learned a piece of bad news from a familiar fixer.

A piece of bad news that left him almost speechless.

"Actually, the security situation in New Atlas has improved a lot these past few days. So there's been less work for mercenaries lately."

The person who told him this was a woman with a gentle expression who looked to be in her late twenties.

Her phone projected her image, but from the blurred background on her side, it was clear she had activated a privacy screen and taken appropriate anti-eavesdropping and anti-surveillance measures. Her three-dimensional image was dressed in a neat uniform, with her coffee-colored hair tied in a braid. She looked like a very ordinary company employee.

In fact, she was a saleswoman for a human resources company, but she also did freelance work as a fixer on the side. If a mercenary made a joke about her being a saleswoman, they would usually end up dead in some unknown place.

"Better security? Since when?" Hayden was surprised by her words, because the city's security had never been good. In this day and age where everything was dominated by megacorporations, it was common knowledge that public services were ultimately outsourced to them. The mayor and city council of New Atlas had long since outsourced police work to the big corporations.

"You know, Mr. Hayden. The true ruler of New Atlas is the Mithra Information Group, so the city's security work is also contracted to them," the saleswoman explained patiently. "Yesterday, the daughter of a high-level executive in Mithra's business department got married. For the sake of that executive's face, Mithra Group would naturally make the security in New Atlas look good for a while, at least outside the slums. So naturally, there's less work for mercenaries lately."

Huh?

...Ah.

Damn it!

And then Hayden understood.

Adam! My old friend! How could your wedding screw me over like this?!