With the core now out of the way and a fair bit of money in his account, the next thing Sami needed was a communicator. In this world, communicators functioned much like mobile devices and were a basic necessity, especially for someone in his unique situation. Having just transmigrated, Sami needed one to navigate, check information, and stay updated on things even Vel hadn't known while alive, since Vel couldn't afford one.
He reached the counter of the tech store, where a sketchy-looking man stood behind it, dragging on a cigarette. The man looked scruffy, with long black hair that hung in unkempt strands, an uneven beard, and a coat torn in places. A pair of large black sunglasses hid his eyes, leaving his expression unreadable. On closer look, Sami noticed the man's right arm was a prosthetic, the metallic plating dulled with scratches and its joints giving a faint whir with every movement.
When the trader noticed Sami, he raised a brow and spoke in a rough, raspy voice.
"What can I offer you, child?"
'Child? I'm twenty-five!' Sami frowned slightly before asking in a polite tone. "Do you have a communicator?"
The man pulled the cigarette from his mouth, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and stubbed it out in an ashtray nearby. Without a word, he turned to a shelf at the back of the store and retrieved a metal box. Setting it on the counter, he carefully opened it revealing what looked like a regular old scrappy phone with lots of buttons on it and a tiny screen that doubled as a crude holographic projector. Beside it rested a black headphone with a thin cord trailing out from its base to connect with the communicator.
The man pointed vaguely to the devices then uttered expressionlessly. "This is what I've got at the moment. I know it's an old model. But… sourcing tech in this sector is quite hard."
Sami studied the devices in silence. The man wasn't wrong. In the lower sectors, technology was rarely new. Most of it was scavenged or stolen from the higher sectors, patched together with spare parts, or salvaged from broken machines.
Sami sighed and nodded. "I'll take it. How much for the trade?"
The man looked at Sami's face for a bit, then replied. "Give me 20k for it."
Sami bit his lower lip. Twenty thousand was a lot, but he needed that communicator. And since the man was offering a fair deal, he didn't bother to negotiate. Truth be told, a communicator, even in this condition, should have cost more.
He tugged back his sleeve and slipped his hand through the glass slot. The trader picked up a battered Crediscan from the counter, keyed in twenty thousand vey, and tilted the display for Sami to confirm. Sami gave a small nod, and the man pressed the scanner to his serial number.
The device flashed twice, then went dark with a dull beep. Dropping it carelessly back to the side, the trader reached into the metal box, pulled out the communicator along with its headphone, and slid them across the counter to Sami.
Sami took them, slipping the headphone over his head before turning his attention to the communicator. He studied the device in his hand for a moment, its weight and worn surface telling him it had seen better days. Still, he intended to test it right here in front of the trader to make sure he hadn't been sold a piece of junk.
Holding up the device, he tapped the power button, and after a few seconds, a hologram flickered to life above the tiny screen.
'Ah… It's functional at least.'
A small smile tugged at Sami's lips. He looked up at the trader and gave a big, impulsive nod. "Thank you, Ahjussi!"
Then he turned and began walking away from the trading center.
Meanwhile, the trader just stared after him, a puzzled expression on his face. After a moment, he muttered under his breath, "Ahjussi?"
***
Stepping out of the trading center and back into the night, Sami tried to draw in a deep breath… but then he immediately coughed because of how bad the air was.
'Gosh. I can feel dirt on my tongue,' he thought, smacking his tongue for a moment before letting out a weary sigh.
Still wearing the headphones, he tucked the communicator into his jacket pocket and let his gaze wander to the empty night sky, where no moon, no stars, and no clouds broke the darkness.
'Even though I ended up surviving death. Should I be happy that I have transmigrated to this world?'
He thought for a moment with a somber expression, and then his mind slowly drifted back to when he was still alive in Seoul. More specifically, to his little sister.
'How is Seo-yeon doing? Does she know I died? Will she be okay on her own?'
Sami sighed and rubbed his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears that had already begun welling in them.
Seo-yeon, his sister whom he had now left behind, was the only person who really loved him and truly cared. Both of them had grown up in the most toxic household, depending only on each other.
Their father never cared about them. He was an abusive alcoholic who spent his days drinking soju and gambling on sports betting, while their mother had long since left them to start a family of her own.
Things hadn't always been this way. It all started a few years ago when their father found out about their mother's affair, which led to a divorce. And as if that were not enough, because he had worked as the manager of his wife's company, he was fired after their divorce.
This string of events drove him into depression. He began to develop addictions, and when he fell deep into gambling, he started taking on debts and even borrowing from loan sharks.
The problem was that he couldn't pay them back.
As a result, ever since Sami was old enough, he began working to pay his father's debts. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered. After all, everyone has their own life to live, and the choices one makes should not become a burden to another.
But then Sami found out that one of the loan sharks was connected to a large gang in Seoul, and they had even threatened his father's life. He couldn't sit back and do nothing, so he decided to step in out of filial piety and a reluctant understanding of how his father had come to be this way.
He worked for many years making payments, even though all he got in return was neither acknowledgement nor gratitude, but abuse from his father.
Then, earlier this year, due to an unfortunate incident, he lost his job, and when he could no longer make the payments, the gangs came for him.
Thinking about this now, Sami couldn't help but wonder why he was the one being targeted and killed, when he wasn't even the one that borrowed the money. Was it meant as a warning to his father, or was there some other reason he didn't know?
Regret began to flicker in…
And the thought of all the years he had spent paying a debt that wasn't even his, only to meet death in the end, filled him with a bitter despair.
Sami rubbed his hand across his pale face and, after a long moment, exhaled deeply. 'I hope Seo-yeon is okay… I just hope she doesn't get caught up in any of this.'
Just then, Joonas's voice, laced with irritation, echoed in Sami's head:
"Ugh… I can't stand all this gloom. You're seriously beginning to piss me off. As if this awful, polluted atmosphere isn't bad enough, now I have to deal with your somber attitude too?"
Sami exhaled, then rolled his eyes. "Don't you feel any sympathy for my plight?"
Joonas was quiet for a moment, then said casually, "Life's fucked up. Always has been. The main thing is you're alive, so quit whining and keep moving."
Sami let out a long sigh. 'He's right. But does he have to be so emotionally dense?'
Clicking his teeth and shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he lifted his gaze and scanned the busy night street. Neon bled across the smog, a haze of colors washing over broken pavement and shifting crowds. Then something caught his eye, and a large genuine smile tugged at his lips.
'Noodles!'
Across the street, a neon sign flickered above a wide food stall, its letters glowing an uneven red: "SLURP STATION."
Sami immediately began walking briskly toward it. He could hear his stomach growl loudly, reminding him of how long it had been since his last meal.
But after only a few steps, he suddenly paused midstride. For some reason, he had a strange, uneasy feeling that something, or someone, was watching him.
He glanced around the street, but he didn't notice anyone in particular. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business.
'Mmmm… what is this feeling I've been having for a while now?'
Sami scratched his head, then called out in a low voice, "Hey Joonas, have you noticed anything… strange?"
"Strange?" Joonas thought for a bit. Then he yawned and answered. "I dunno. The only strange thing is how tired and sleepy I am right now." Then he yawned again.
Sami arched a brow. 'So you do need to sleep… that's indeed strange.'
He looked around one last time, and after a few seconds, shook off the uneasy feeling, and continued onward toward the noodle stall.