Ch.2525. Believer of Cyberpunk

Amon clutched his warm side and grumbled.

“Said they’d cut off my head, but just killed me outright.”

As if mocking the declaration to throw him to the birds, the demon disappeared into ashes.

From start to finish, that demon had been nothing but irritating.

Setting aside the declaration, once his anger subsided and he calculated with a cool head, this had been a completely unprofitable venture.

If he had just calmly left the boss room, farmed diligently, and returned after about a year, how much more easily could he have defeated this boss?

At the very least, his side wouldn’t have been seared like this—crispy outside, moist inside.

No, wait—the burn mark is sticky, so maybe it’s moist both inside and out?

“Ughhhh…”

The adrenaline had masked the pain during the fight, but now that it was over, it hurt like hell.

He had no medical knowledge, but this was probably a second-degree burn.

The blisters bubbling up clearly indicated it wasn’t a first-degree burn, and from what he’d heard somewhere, third-degree burns destroy all the nerves so they don’t hurt. By process of elimination, it must be second-degree.

“Ughhhh… should I be happy about this or not…”

At least it wasn’t third-degree, but the location—his side—made it unbearable without exaggeration. One moment of carelessness and he might pass out.

Just breathing sent pain shooting up his spine and throughout his body, driving him mad.

“Next time, I swear… really… argh…”

Amon fanned his side with his hand, trying to cool the pain.

Lesson learned from the pain:

Even when charging headfirst, choose your opponents wisely.

Beyond the pain, this challenge had been extremely reckless.

He only won because the demon couldn’t regenerate due to the special nature of Amon’s Divine Power. If the demon had managed to regenerate properly, Amon would have been the one to die.

There were many scenarios where Amon could have died.

Just a glancing beam caused this much damage—if he had taken even one direct hit, it would have been game over.

It had been like walking a tightrope.

Calculating now, Amon’s chances of victory had been just under 40%, and he had somehow survived.

‘No matter how I look at it, that was insane.’

In this case, Amon hadn’t survived because of skill—he’d just been lucky.

He reflected deeply on his actions, again and again.

Amon seemed to have a lot to reflect on today, but if he didn’t do it promptly, he’d likely repeat the same mistakes.

While he was reflecting on the day’s events, something dropped in front of him.

“Huh?”

It was something like a bead.

Amon had a pretty good idea what it was.

‘So it dropped an item.’

In gaming terms, it was a drop item—in this world’s terminology, spoils of war or an essence.

It was basically a condensed lump of Divine Power or magical energy left behind when a boss or monster was defeated, which could later be used to imbue equipment with abilities.

This essence, along with Megacorp technology left in the deepest parts of dungeons, was what motivated mercenaries to explore dungeons.

Amon examined the bead carefully.

By tradition in this series, the color of the essence changed with the concentration of Divine Power or magical energy, indicating its grade.

Bright yellow.

‘Oh, legendary.’

A big catch.

But not enough to jump for joy.

Higher grades were indeed more powerful, but that just meant higher damage or better stats, not necessarily special effects.

In a world overflowing with all kinds of unique magic and implants, what mattered wasn’t overwhelming output but compatibility, cost-effectiveness, and creating variables.

Overwhelming firepower could be supplemented through other means, but unique special properties were irreplaceable.

That’s why the content of the essence was far more important than its grade.

The problem was that Amon didn’t yet know if the content would suit him.

If the essence produced bow-related abilities that Amon never used, it would be pretty but useless.

So he couldn’t be excited until he confirmed the specific contents of this essence.

Amon put the essence in his pocket and stood up.

‘I’ll check it later.’

It was time to leave the dungeon.

This was a case where a major corporation had been dungeon-ized.

While the chairman and executives were still trapped inside, unable to escape, the police would be anxiously waiting at the dungeon entrance.

But before that, Amon had something to do.

He took out his phone and called someone.

“Yes, Father. It’s been taken care of. Actually, the plan has changed. Yes, yes. I’ll send you a map, so could you secretly come in that way? Yes, yes. Bring a bag and many Holy Knights too. Yes~”

After ending the call, Amon immediately got up and began collecting the security guards’ weapons and hard drives.

‘Can’t resist looting.’

Now was the time for looting.

***

The police hadn’t even dared to enter, never imagining the boss would be defeated on the very day it was born.

Honestly, they couldn’t be blamed.

What police officer would enter what was essentially a nuclear meltdown?

Thanks to that, the Holy Knights and Amon could enjoy farming time at the Higgjen Group without any interference.

Being a distribution company rather than a military supplier, there wasn’t any end-game equipment, but the Higgjen Group’s pride—ultra-fast, low-cost 3D printers and various rights—were a significant haul.

After the exciting looting time at the Higgjen Group ended.

Instead of heading straight to the cathedral, Amon went to a hospital affiliated with the church.

The Holy Knights and the priest seemed to have made a good haul too, as they told him not to worry about hospital bills and referred him to this hospital.

Thanks to that, fresh skin was already starting to grow on Amon’s side.

‘Now I feel like I might live.’

He had pretended not to be in pain to maintain his dignity, but moving the loot and getting to the hospital had been agonizing.

Only after receiving painkillers and having some cream applied to the wound did the pain finally subside.

– “This isn’t addictive, is it?”

Before getting the painkiller, Amon’s question had made the doctor furiously protest, accusing him of thinking he was a money-hungry bastard. Amon and the priest had looked at the doctor as if they’d discovered a mythical creature, but aside from that incident, the hospital was peaceful.

Turn on the television, and every channel was plastered with breaking news about the Higgjen Group becoming a dungeon.

The streets were in chaos with Jean Valjean’s descendants shouting “Liberty!”

Public authorities, including the police, were in disarray without the king who had held their leash.

But Amon’s hospital room alone was quiet.

“Ah… so peac—”

[Room 502, Building 5. Cardiac arrest patient. Attending physician, please hurry.]

[Emergency room, Building 1. Multiple trauma patients arriving. All hospital doctors please come down immediately.]

“…”

Before he could finish speaking, two incidents occurred.

Correction.

Only Amon’s private room was peaceful.

Listening to the medical staff running down the corridor, Amon thought:

‘This must be because of me.’

It was only natural that such chaos would ensue when a Megacorp that had ruled the region suddenly disappeared without warning.

When a tiger dies, other beasts fight fiercely to claim its den.

Now it was a race between the police regaining control first or the hyenas expanding their influence to fill the void.

The hyenas would include companies smaller than the Higgjen Group or gangs, and if they seized power first, they could become the next Higgjen Group.

It wasn’t just a problem of gangs and corporations.

Citizens would rise up en masse, and among the protesters would be criminals looking to loot stores amid the chaos.

Additionally, with numerous people suddenly unemployed, public safety would deteriorate.

All of this resulted from Amon bringing down a Megacorp in a single night.

In the cyberpunk world, Megacorps were the axis of evil, but their existence was a necessary evil.

They unemployed many people while employing others,

manipulated city security while maintaining it,

and killed people while allowing them to live.

The moment they disappeared, many people would die and get hurt, which is why neither the government nor the people dared to touch them easily.

Amon closed his eyes and sank into thought.

To be honest, he felt no guilt.

It was absurd to suggest that Amon and Sonia should sacrifice themselves for the city’s stability.

Besides, in a world like this, if you blamed yourself for every tragedy, you couldn’t maintain your sanity.

He was a good person by this world’s standards, but also an extremely rational one.

Therefore, he didn’t feel much responsibility for this situation.

But.

‘Mother Superior and the kids…’

He didn’t care about the city’s security.

In his view, this city was corrupt enough already—adding bloodstains to existing stains made little difference.

But if his siblings or the nuns got caught up in something bad because of this, he couldn’t bear it.

With his eyes closed, Amon fiddled with the hard drive he had brought from the Higgjen Group.

Finally, having made his decision, he contacted the priest.

“Yes, Father. I’m sorry to trouble you. If you could do me one last favor, I would be grateful.”

***

The chaos that had erupted overnight was quickly suppressed.

<This morning, ‘Three Dollar Meat’ officially announced that they will take over the Higgjen Group. At the scene…>

Amon nodded as he watched the breaking news dominating every channel.

On his bed, instead of tasteless but healthy hospital food, lay a hamburger made with “real” pork.

Amon nodded again as he put the hamburger in his mouth.

‘Good decision to sell it.’

Last night.

Amon had sold the Higgjen Group’s data and license rights to a food service Megacorp.

The name was Three Dollar Meat.

It was a franchise food company that sold all types of meat in $3 units.

When the Higgjen Group existed, this Megacorp had been the equivalent of the city’s second-in-command.

Amon handed over all the data from the Higgjen Group headquarters to that company through the Vatican’s mediation.

Everything from Higgjen’s core technology to patents.

This would have been unimaginable in his previous life, but in this world, there was a special dungeon law.

To streamline dungeon processing, companies that became dungeons automatically lost all their rights.

And anything acquired inside a dungeon automatically became the property of the acquirer, including patents and core technologies.

First come, first served.

If a second person entered and claimed ownership of rights or technology obtained from the dungeon, the first person could even sue them.

Amon exercised that right and sold everything from the Higgjen Group to Three Dollar Meat.

However, the selling process was a bit complicated.

Amon was well aware of how socially vulnerable he was.

If he had openly proposed a deal to Three Dollar Meat, he would likely have been eliminated immediately.

So he sought help from the Vatican.

‘The Archbishop was thrilled too.’

The method was as follows:

First, connect to the Archbishop through the priest’s network, and with his help, disguise Amon’s identity.

From a somewhat special orphan with Divine Power to a legendary secret Holy Knight who conquered an unknown dungeon single-handedly in just one hour.

After changing Amon’s affiliation to the Church’s sword, the Vatican volunteered as the trading channel for this Holy Knight.

Since the legendary Holy Knight didn’t want to reveal his face, all transactions would be conducted through the Vatican.

The Vatican, as the Holy Knight’s proxy, contacted Three Dollar Meat, the city’s second-in-command, and they accepted the deal on very generous terms.

‘I never knew Three Dollar Meat was such a fast-moving company.’

The Three Dollar Meat that Amon knew would take 7 hours to answer a phone call about food poisoning, a week to connect to the person in charge, 7 months to go to court, and after 7 years of legal battles, the victim would lose.

It was the first time he’d seen such a company answer the phone in 7 seconds, resolve legal procedures in 7 minutes, and solve all problems in 7 hours.

‘How many employees did they burn through in the middle of the night?’

But he could understand why they responded this way.

The reason Three Dollar Meat had remained the city’s second-in-command was because they had no marts to sell their meat.

Even if they wanted to create butcher shops, everything from general goods to groceries had to go through Higgjen Group’s Higgjen Mart, so Three Dollar Meat had to kowtow to the Higgjen Group.

Suddenly, a deal appeared that could resolve that frustration.

The Higgjen Group, which had been blocking their market entry at every turn, was gone—that alone was good news—and now someone was offering to sell all the rights to Higgjen Group’s marts.

Plus, they were bundling it with the core technology of Higgjen Group’s underground process, low-cost 3D printing technology.

Giving them marts to sell meat,

3D printing technology to lower production costs,

and other rights that the Higgjen Group had held.

Offering everything—who would care about employees’ right to sleep when receiving such news?

Every minute and second would have been precious.

According to the Archbishop who handled the deal, the Vatican could have demanded any condition and still received nothing but “YES YES” responses—they were that eager.

And so the deal was completed in a single night.

All Higgjen Marts worldwide would change their brand to Three Dollar Mart, and the city that had fallen into chaos was calmed by the new king, the Three Dollar Group.

‘Is this the creation of a world where everyone is happy?’

The Vatican was happy, receiving royalties from the Three Dollar Group while keeping them on a leash.

The Three Dollar Group was happy, having grown beyond second-in-command to the point where their market cap would double.

Amon was happy, having received money and secured the safety of the nuns and his siblings.

The perfect happy ending.

Of course, someone might ask Amon:

Couldn’t you have monopolized those rights and become a Megacorp chairman yourself? Don’t you regret it?

To this, Amon could answer with certainty:

‘Greed will burst your stomach and kill you.’

Amon knew his place.

He had no factory or capital to use that technology, nor the ability, power, or connections to protect those rights.

In such a situation, those things would have been like bombs.

It was better to sell them to the Vatican, receive money, and build goodwill.

He wasn’t worried about the Vatican lowballing him.

From the Vatican’s perspective, Amon was a benefactor who had prevented an incident that could have threatened their existence, but also a skilled individual who had defeated an artificial saint single-handedly.

The disguised identity of a legendary Holy Knight was not only to deceive corporations but also reflected what the Vatican thought of him.

For the Vatican, the various rights from that technology were already a huge gain—they wouldn’t risk antagonizing a powerful figure.

As Amon expected, the priest’s response was encouraging:

“At the very least, Amon, you won’t have to struggle with money for the rest of your life.”

“Really?”

“…Assuming you live a normal life.”

“Damn.”

High-end equipment could sometimes fetch enough money to acquire a small company, but apparently not this time.

Still, Amon could be reassured.

‘With this amount of money, you won’t have to worry.’

He had been troubled after the orphanage was attacked and destroyed by the Higgjen Group, but that problem seemed to be resolved now.

Was he not sad about the money?

Not at all.

Would anyone be sad about spending money to fix their own home when they had enough?

That’s exactly how it felt to Amon.

It felt like fixing his own home with his own money, and incidentally showing filial piety.

If anything, he was disappointed he could only fix the orphanage.

He would have liked to build a hospital or school next to it, but in this world, building such things next to an orphanage would probably encourage people to abandon their children more eagerly, so he refrained.

‘Help should be given in invisible forms.’

For visible support, he was satisfied with the Three Dollar Group providing high-quality synthetic meat to the orphanage for free, forever.

“Now we’ll have to worry about obesity instead of malnutrition.”

Amon quietly shared this good news only with the Mother Superior who had come to visit him in the hospital.

Upon hearing this, she embraced Amon and wept.

“You’re an angel sent by the Goddess, Amon. Thank you so much… truly… to care so much about someone like me…”

“Urghk….”

There was a mishap where her embrace sent searing pain through his burn wound, but it was truly a touching conclusion.

‘Worth getting my side burned up.’

It was truly a moving ending.

.

.

.

Or it should have been.

“Amon. Care to explain?”

Until Sonia, who had come to visit, thrust a photo of him arm-in-arm with a madam from the red-light district.

Amon looked toward the priest.

The priest had already fled the room.

‘What kind of explanation did you give!?’

One thing was certain—the explanation had been terrible.

Otherwise, Sonia’s eyes wouldn’t be consumed by madness.

Mustering his courage, Amon directly asked what the priest had explained.

And the answer:

“The priest said:”

– “Amon is a young man in his prime. The Goddess commands us to deal strictly with unfaithful men, but peaceful conversation is also recommended.”

Hearing the priest’s explanation, Amon couldn’t help but resent him.

‘That’s not an explanation at all!!’

It seemed like the priest had deliberately set out to sink Amon.

Of course, it was to maintain secrecy during the operation, but couldn’t he have come up with a better explanation?

Cursing the priest inwardly, Amon looked at Sonia.

Seeing her loading a gun with dead eyes, Amon thought:

‘Shit. I don’t know any pattern-breaking techniques.’

Amon, the legendary Holy Knight who killed a demon.

His combined dating experience from his previous and current life: first playthrough.

This was the crisis of two lifetimes.