Chapter 11 ALL DEBTS SHALL BE COLLECTED

The new retinal implants settled into Minjun’s vision like they had always been there.

He stood in front of the small mirror in Tsakanikas’ back room, amber eyes glowing faintly behind the fresh Hayashi Prisms. With a thought, he projected a false identity overlay — a tired office worker with a cheap neural jack and no criminal record. His reflection changed in real time. The projection was clean. No shimmer. No lag.

[Retinal Projection: Active]

[Identity Scramble: 94% effective against automated systems]

[Synergy Detected: Works with existing [CUT] and [PASTE] commands]

The System had already begun integrating the hardware. It was efficient. Cold. Perfect.

Behind him, Jiho watched in silence, arms crossed.

“You look like someone else,” Jiho said quietly.

“I am someone else,” Minjun replied. His voice was steady, but the words tasted like ash. “At least on paper.”

He dropped the projection. His real face returned — the one with the faint pixelation still crawling along his left forearm when he was tired.

Tsakanikas finished packing his tools and wiped his hands. “The Prisms are paid for on credit. You do two more clean jobs for me and the debt is cleared. After that, we talk about repeat work. The Ledger team already asked about you. Vault said you didn’t hesitate and you didn’t leave bodies. That matters in this city.”

Minjun nodded once. “Send the next contract when you have it.”

He and Jiho stepped out into the pre-dawn gray. The rain had stopped, but the air was thick with humidity and the distant smell of street food carts firing up for the early shift. Minjun activated the new implants on instinct. Every security camera they passed now saw two exhausted delivery workers instead of a known glitch and his shadow.

They walked in silence for three blocks before Jiho spoke.

“You gave something up in that penthouse. I saw it on your face when you touched the server. Another memory?”

Minjun didn’t lie. “The sound of you laughing at one of my jokes. From three years ago. The night we stole the batteries.”

Jiho stopped walking. His eyes were wet, but he didn’t let the tears fall.

“Hyung…”

“I chose it,” Minjun said. “The Reality-Anchor fragment stabilized because I used it smart. I can now anchor my own edits without burning as much stamina. And the new eyes let me [PASTE] false visuals directly into surveillance feeds. It’s worth it.”

Jiho grabbed Minjun’s wrist, hard.

“No. It’s not. Not if you keep disappearing piece by piece. I’m not going to be the only one left who remembers why we’re doing this.”

Minjun looked at his friend. For a moment the cold logic cracked. He saw the boy who had pulled him out of flooded alleys, who had shared his last ramyeon, who had followed him into every fight without asking for anything in return.

He reached out and ruffled Jiho’s hair roughly — the same way he used to when they were kids.

“You’re still the loudest thing left,” he said. “That’s why I keep you close.”

Jiho swallowed hard and nodded. He didn’t let go of Minjun’s wrist until they started walking again.

They were three blocks from the edge of the Grey Zone when Minjun’s new operator connection pinged.

Encrypted message from Vault (Ledger Team):

Delete. Kwon’s collapse is being called a ‘stress incident’ but Kang’s people are sniffing. They’re pruning mid-levels who had contact with the node. Watch your back. If you want another job — clean, high pay, no bodies — we have something in two nights. Ghost already vouched for you. Reply with handle only.

Minjun read it twice.

He was about to close the connection when a second, much colder notification bloomed across his vision.

[System Alert: High-Priority Observation Detected]

[Source: Administrator-Level Entity – Chairman Seojun Kang]

[Status: Active Scan – Identity: Delete]

[Warning: Reality-Anchor tether resonance increasing. Exposure risk elevated.]

Minjun stopped dead in the middle of the alley.

Jiho noticed immediately. “What is it?”

“Kang knows my handle,” Minjun said quietly. “He’s looking for me directly now.”

They ducked into a narrow service corridor between two old buildings. Minjun leaned against the wet concrete and closed his eyes, focusing on the new retinal implants and the stabilized Reality-Anchor fragment.

He needed to test the limits.

He reached out with [INSPECT] on the nearest security camera two blocks away — one he knew was feeding into a task force substation.

[Target: Task Force Substation Camera – Sector 4]

[Attribute: Visual Feed]

[Command: PASTE – False Identity Overlay]

Using the new Prisms, he didn’t have to burn as much stamina. The false feed slotted in cleanly — just another rainy alley with no one in it. The camera kept sweeping like nothing had changed.

[Stamina Cost: 7%]

[Memory Cost: Negligible]

[New Efficiency Unlocked: Retinal Projection reduces digital edit cost by 40% when combined with [PASTE]]

Minjun opened his eyes. A small, earned smile touched his mouth.

“New trick,” he told Jiho. “The eyes make editing cameras cheaper. I can walk through the city without burning myself out every time I need to disappear.”

Jiho didn’t smile back. “That’s good. But it doesn’t change the fact that Kang is hunting you by name now.”

Minjun’s expression hardened again. “Then we make sure he finds what we want him to find.”

They moved deeper into the Grey Zone. Minjun kept the projection active on every camera they passed. It was almost effortless now. The new hardware sang with the System instead of fighting it.

By the time they reached a safe bolthole Jiho knew — an abandoned textile warehouse near the old river docks — the sun was starting to rise. They slipped inside through a broken loading door. The air smelled of mildew and machine oil, exactly like the safe house from two nights ago.

Minjun sat on an old crate and pulled up the operator network again.

He sent a short reply to Vault.

Delete: I’m in for the next job. Two nights. Send details when ready.

Then he leaned back against the cold metal wall and let the neural bridge run a full diagnostic.

The Reality-Anchor fragment was holding at 41% integration. The retinal implants were syncing perfectly. His stamina regeneration was slightly faster than before because the new hardware helped distribute the load.

He had earned every piece of it.

But the cost was still there, quiet and patient.

Another memory had started to blur at the edges while he was testing the camera edit — the taste of the first tteokbokki he and Jiho had ever bought with stolen money. It was fading into background static.

Minjun didn’t tell Jiho this time.

Instead, he looked at his friend, who was already checking the exits and setting up a simple alarm with the stun baton and some scavenged wire.

“Jiho-ya.”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens next… don’t let me forget the important parts. Even if I have to pay for it.”

Jiho met his eyes without flinching.

“I won’t. That’s my job now.”

Outside, the first task force drones of the morning began their sweeps over the Grey Zone. Higher up, in the pristine towers of Cheongdam, Chairman Seojun Kang stood at his window with a cup of tea, watching the city wake up.

He had already ordered the pruning of three more mid-level executives who had any connection to Kwon Tae-min.

And he had put out a quiet, very specific bounty.

Not for a body.

For information.

Everything on the new operator known as Delete.

The garden was growing weeds.

It was time to start pulling them by the roots.