Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 28: Jinryong Technology (5)
The Special Observation Room at the Nexus Node headquarters—located in the heart of Babel City and owned by the communications megacorp—was strictly off-limits to regular employees.
It was a hidden space, not even listed on the central elevator panel. Only a handful of staff with special clearance even knew it existed.
Inside, it was packed wall-to-wall with cutting-edge tech.
Server racks filled the room from floor to ceiling, and a massive holographic map floated in the center, dominating the space.
Dozens of screens lined the walls, each streaming a different data feed without pause.
The senior surveillance officer on night duty sat nursing a lukewarm coffee, enduring the slow bleed of boredom.
And then—
A sharp, piercing alarm blared through the observation room.
BEEEEP.
He instinctively looked up.
On the real-time holographic map of all of Babel, a single red dot suddenly shifted position.
His fingers sliced the air, enlarging the hologram.
The red dot was moving fast, cutting through the central zone and heading straight for the Burning Duct perimeter.
With practiced ease, he keyed the terminal and began transmitting the data to Nexus Node’s top execs—and to the other megacorps.
Jinrong agent en route to Burning Duct. Estimated arrival: under 22 minutes. Tracking signal stable. No current comm trace with Jinrong Technology HQ.
Once the alert was sent, the senior officer returned his gaze to the map.
Alongside the moving red dot, a dozen or so others were scattered motionless across Babel.
Each red dot represented the location of a Jinrong agent.
"Why the hell does Jinrong get treated like some goddamn special case?"
He turned at the voice. It was the new recruit on shift today—his freshly assigned junior.
“I mean, even Hexa Core’s battle-scarred veterans don’t get tracked like this. Not even Titan Tech’s massive war machines get this level of surveillance.”
“It’s because they’re that dangerous.”
The senior officer replied flatly, gesturing around the room.
“Dangerous enough to justify observation rooms this expensive.”
He wasn’t exaggerating. The place was packed with high-end equipment.
Advanced computers running endless data analysis, electromagnetic shielding walls made from exotic alloys—it was all top-shelf.
Still, the rookie's expression brimmed with doubt.
He’d seen a Jinrong agent once. The vibe was definitely off, but... nothing that screamed DEFCON 1.
Honestly, he thought the massive tanks Titan Tech dragged around—or Hexa Core’s freakish veterans—were way more intimidating.
Muttering, “Guess I should explain since you’re new,” the senior officer slowly stood.
“You know about the corporate war from five years ago, right?”
“Yeah... It was between Jinrong Technology and Hexa Core Armory, mostly.”
The rookie nodded, and the senior continued.
“Not quite. It was Jinrong Technology going to war against every other megacorp at once. Everyone thought it was suicide. Insane. But the result...?”
“A draw.”
“Yeah. A draw.”
The senior tapped the holographic console.
“But how the hell did Jinrong manage a draw against all the others combined?”
His fingers sketched a complex motion in midair, and the main screen switched.
Archived combat footage came into view.
“Jinrong didn’t have numbers—barely a hundred agents. And it’s not like they had Titan Tech-grade firepower.”
The footage showed a Jinrong agent clad in black, skin like polished porcelain, standing alone against a heavily armed Hexa Core squad.
“Undying. Jinrong’s agents didn’t die. Ever.”
The screen changed again—and this time, it was pure nightmare fuel.
A massive aerial bomb fell toward the Jinrong agent’s head.
There was a violent explosion. The agent’s white ceramic mask shattered into pieces, and a mix of red flesh and metallic shards sprayed everywhere.
But then—something impossible.
The scattered flesh didn’t burn. Even in the roaring fire, it clung to the concrete and steel around it.
And then it started to move.
It fused with the debris like a living infection—flesh entwining with rebar, cables, and floor tiles, pulsing like a parasitic organism.
It crawled. Slowly. Methodically. Toward its destination.
Like some sticky, sentient mold.
Eventually, it completely infected a Titan Tech factory.
The screen showed it—an entire facility overrun, red flesh-webbing tangled over every surface.
“We threw every bomb and bullet we had at them. Useless. And this kind of thing happened again and again across every megacorp.”
More grotesque imagery filled the display—buildings from every corporation, twisted, deformed, corrupted.
“There was only one reason that war ended in a draw: there just weren’t enough Jinrong agents.”
The senior cut the feed and sat down again.
“That’s why we track their movements 24/7. Until the other megacorps come up with a way to kill those ‘agents.’”
The rookie’s face lit up with a sense of purpose as he sat at his assigned post.
Turned out this job was way more important than he thought.
Behind him, on the glowing holographic map, the red dot near the Burning Duct kept blinking.
****
Ugh. Disgusting.
The ring in my chest spun violently, flooding my body with blue energy.
Instinct kicked in. My right hand morphed into a blade, and I lunged at the white porcelain freak.
The exposed tentacle beast was worse than I’d imagined.
Red metal and flesh-tissue tentacles writhed outward in all directions, filling the space.
Like someone had stuffed a mass of tentacles into a human-shaped mannequin and they were now bursting out.
"Enemy of pizza!"
SHHHHRKK.
The first strike sliced one tentacle clean off.
But even then, it kept squirming toward me—like it was alive on its own.
I kept cutting. Again and again.
Didn’t matter.
I shredded that bastard into pulp, but the more I cut, the more it multiplied.
Just slicing won't do it...
Whatever this thing’s body was made of, it wasn’t killable by conventional means.
An immortal freak.
I pulled more energy from the core in my chest.
Blue flames surged across my body, pouring down the blade.
As the flaming blade carved into a tentacle, the contact point lit up, burning.
A sliver of the fused metal-flesh finally sizzled into ash.
My eyes lit up.
Finally. A clue on how to kill this unkillable bastard.
I pushed harder, slicing through its body over and over.
Once. Twice. Dozens. Hundreds.
Each hit scorched more of it away with blue fire.
And then—the ground erupted.
A swarm of tentacles shot up and lunged toward me.
More Jinrong agents?
No.
I turned just in time to see something far worse.
The severed tentacles were burrowing into the walls and floor—absorbing surrounding materials.
Even the tables and chairs were turning red, slowly mutating.
A warning siren went off in my head.
If this spreads any further, I’ll never stop it...
I pulled everything I had from the core.
Didn’t matter if it tore me apart.
Didn’t matter if I crossed the line.
The ring spun so fast it felt like it might explode.
Blue fire leaked from my breath.
"Burn. All. Of. It!"
The blade tore through the air like a scythe sweeping the room clean.
A storm of blue flame surged from the blade, incinerating every piece of flesh and metal it touched.
And the moment the last drop of energy drained from my body, every single tentacle froze.
The red flesh scattered into ash, and the metal melted midair into nothing.
All that remained was a single white mask, lying still on the floor like a porcelain shard.
A voice, calm and flat, echoed from within it.
"Remarkable."
It wasn’t surprised. It was mechanical, emotionless.
"So this is how it ends. I guess true immortality wasn’t real after all."
But when it spoke of death, something strange surfaced—a faint emotion. Almost like... relief. Like the weight of something unbearable had finally been dropped.
"You were the mercenary sent to retrieve Melton Pitt’s implant, weren’t you?"
The voice continued from the mask.
"If you think you’re taking that implant, you’re wasting your time. Jinrong never lets go of something it targets. Even if it means going to war with every megacorp."
That was the last thing the voice ever said.
I crushed the mask under my boot.
The sound of porcelain cracking echoed through the room.
“Hoo... Time to find the implant.”
I turned to Wilson and his bodyguard, still shivering beneath a desk.
****
The moment I stepped out the door, the hallway—and the central server room beyond—unfolded into something straight out of a slaughterhouse.
“What the hell is this...?”
Wilson leaned against the wall, his face ghost-white.
The Query Witches’ gang members were in pieces—like torn-up paper dolls.
The floor was slick with pools of blood, and the metallic tang of it choked the air.
A Jinrong agent had passed through here.
Signature tentacle-whip lacerations were carved into the walls.
Even in the carnage, I managed to locate a single server that had survived—one fragment of intact data.
It wasn’t much. Just a short note—basically an appointment reminder.
15:00 – Jinrong Technology
When the retrieval team arrives, guide them to the security room.
We followed the data’s lead to the security room.
As we walked the corridor, I glanced sideways at Wilson.
He still looked terrified—but he straightened his shoulders and walked with forced determination.
Trying to look corporate, even now.
Luckily, the security room wasn’t locked.
Inside, a small safe was embedded in the wall.
“How do we open this?” Wilson asked.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I focused the scraps of energy I had left into the tips of my fingers.
Blue light trickled down my hand and burrowed into the safe’s lock.
It cracked apart—and the door creaked open, revealing a box engraved with the Melton Pitt logo.
“That the implant?” I asked.
Wilson let out a long sigh of relief and nodded.
A smile crept across his face—his first since this mess began.
“Yeah. We finally found it.”
He lifted the implant with both hands, like he was holding a newborn.
I was exhausted—burned out from the energy I’d used—but I had to say it.
Because it needed to be said.
“That’s a megacorp-targeted implant. You shouldn’t move it right away. Talk to Amber. Come up with a plan.”
I gave the warning seriously.
Stuff like this... it never ends with just “retrieving.”
But Wilson shook his head with conviction.
“All I have to do is bring it back to HQ. The company will handle the rest. Megacorps don’t care about ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) grunts like me.”
There was no fear in his voice—just certainty.
“Yeah.”
I nodded.
Fair enough.
Jinrong probably wouldn’t come for him personally.
They only cared about the implant.
And with that, we left the quarry behind.
The red sunset was slowly sinking beneath the horizon.
****
The sunset dropped low between the buildings of Babel City.
The crimson twilight reflected off glass skyscrapers, casting the entire skyline in the illusion of flame.
‘This secret delivery job... it’s finally over.’
Wilson Bridge clutched the box with the implant in both hands, carefully walking toward Melton Pitt’s headquarters.
His steps were just a little more confident than usual. His back a little straighter.
That implant might be what finally propelled Melton Pitt into full megacorp status.
‘Everything’s about to change.’
Wilson pushed open the gleaming glass doors and stepped into the lobby.
Melton Pitt didn’t believe in “off hours”—so the place was as busy as ever.
The familiar chaos gave Wilson a strange sense of calm.
Click. Clack.
He pulled out his employee card and passed through the security gate.
[Wilson Bridge, summoned to the CEO’s office.]
An electronic voice announced the call just as he stepped through.
He froze. Thought maybe they’d found out he’d taken the implant.
But he quickly composed himself.
He had the damn thing already. Job done.
Hell, he might even get promoted for crisis resolution.
He entered the elevator. The AI’s voice greeted him.
[Wilson Bridge. Identity confirmed.]
The elevator shot upward, heading straight to the top floor.
As it rose, Wilson looked down at the implant box and smiled.
The Melton Pitt logo shimmered faintly on the surface.
At last—the top floor.
The doors slid open, revealing a luxurious hallway.
Portraits of Melton Pitt’s history lined the walls, and a soft red carpet cushioned his steps.
Warm lights lit the corridor with a cozy glow.
Wilson took a deep breath and walked forward.
The plush red carpet felt like it was rolled out just for his success story.
At the end of the hallway stood the CEO’s massive door.
The gold letters read: Alexander Melton, CEO.
A receptionist saw his face and guided him to the door.
Wilson straightened his tie. Smoothed his suit.
Then, with a moment of hesitation, he knocked.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound was soft—but no reply came.
‘Too quiet?’
He hesitated, then knocked again—harder this time.
Still no answer.
But slowly, the heavy door began to open on its own.
And behind it—
The CEO’s massive office window, soaked in blood-red sunset.
And a figure. Watching him.
A person wearing a white porcelain mask.
Follow curr𝒆nt nov𝒆ls on fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com.
‘Should’ve listened to A.’
The thought hit him too late.
Wilson’s vision turned red.
Redder than the sunset.
