Capítulo 7: "Richguy"
Martin looked at Jonathan sitting opposite him and sighed helplessly.
"Captain, are you working overtime?" Jonathan asked awkwardly.
"Yes, I was supposed to finish work three minutes ago, but you..." Martin paused, "Explain what happened."
"I was on my way home from work, encountered a robbery, and then I... killed someone without controlling myself," Jonathan said with a bitter expression, "Will I be punished?"
Martin thought for a moment, "No, those two people had criminal records, and you were acting in self-defense. You are from the Investigation department, and although an intern, you have immunity, you don't have to take legal responsibility for causing injuries or death in the course of official duties. This matter can be handled internally without referring it to other departments, otherwise, the procedures would be more, too troublesome."
Jonathan started, "Captain, I wasn't ..."
Martin gave him a stern look, "You were in official duty time."
Jonathan, "...I see."
Martin intended to use his position to suppress this matter.
"Captain Martin, the autopsy report has been delivered," Moss reported.
"show it," Martin said immediately.
The office's holo-projector flickered, and two bodies lying on the autopsy table were presented vividly. One had a horrifically caved face, the head was so bloody it could be pixelated, and the other had a subtle knife wound on the chest, covered in blood.
Jonathan lowered his eyes, averting his gaze.
"Gary, the cause of death was skull fracture, temple hit by a heavy object, the shattered skull penetrated the brain, causing death. Time of death less than one hour."
"Joe, the cause of death was chest pierced by a sharp object, the sharp object accurately pierced through the third and fourth ribs of the left chest, striking the heart, a fatal blow. Time of death also less than one hour."
Martin raised his eyebrows in surprise, he saw Jonathan's pale face and chuckled, "I thought you really had no feelings, if I remember correctly, this is your first time killing someone."
"How could I not feel anything?" Jonathan covered his forehead, his stomach churning. Luckily he hadn't eaten anything in the past few hours, otherwise, he would have thrown up.
At the time of the incident, he didn't feel much, just a sense of unreality, the development of the event exceeded his expectations. But now, as he listened to Moss's autopsy report, the scenes replayed relentlessly in his mind, bringing him back to reality.
"Don't vomit in my office, turn left out the door for the bathroom," Martin said. "You did well in basic skills at school, I've seen your internal recruitment scores, tracking, combat, investigation, and shooting, these practical courses are all close to full marks. Jonathan, you are the most outstanding newcomer in the Investigation department in recent years."
He poured a glass of iced water for Jonathan, "Drink. It'll help."
Jonathan drank the iced water in one gulp, the cold sensation helped cool his thoughts slightly.
"You were supposed to go to the criminal investigation team, but I brought you here. Fieldwork is harder than other departments, we face danger directly, confront criminals head-on, encounter many unexpected situations during patrols, and even face life-threatening situations," Martin said. "If you can't adapt to this kind of work, you can apply to switch to another team after your internship."
Jonathan didn't respond.
"You can think about it. Personally, I hope you stay. Our field team lacks new members," he said. "By the way, is your home on Baker Street in the Harbor District?"
"Yes," Jonathan replied.
Martin frowned. "It's very unsafe there. Gangs are hard to control, and murder every month. Harbor sees the most illegal trade." He suggested. "Move somewhere safer to live."
"But I can't afford to move," Jonathan said sadly. "That house was left by my parents, I went to university on loans, owe the bank three hundred thousand...."
Martin was briefly at a loss for words.
"You can live in the staff dormitory when you become a full-time employee," he said. "Just a week left on your probation, take it slow. Also, your personal communicator seems to have been damaged during your last field operation, you..."
"Can I get a new one? It was a property loss due to official duties," Jonathan asked quietly.
Martin laughed, "No way."
He bent down and took a box out of his desk drawer, "This is the standard communicator issued by the Investigation department to all full-time members, it's just a basic model, you can use it for now."
Jonathan took the box and said, "Thank you, Captain."
He couldn't help revealing his true nature and added, "Do other captains care about their team members and subordinates' lives as much as you do? If they don't have your gentleness and care, I wouldn't apply to leave the field team."
Martin, "..."
He coughed dryly, pretending not to hear.
"If you really can't get over the killing, go to the Psychological Therapy Office," Martin said. "Director James of the Psychological Therapy Office is an excellent therapist, he can help you alleviate your worries."
...
Daniel stood in the lobby of the Investigation Building like a fool, he found a spot and sat down to wait. The record was finished a long time ago, as a witness he saw limited things, and there wasn't much he could say. The interrogator put a high-tech device similar to a lie detector on him, asked him a few questions, and then let him go.
Ten minutes passed, the numbers on the elevator floor were dropping, the elevator doors opened, and Jonathan walked out.
"You're still here?" Jonathan asked in surprise.
"I was waiting for you," Daniel said.
"Then let's go home quickly, the Hover Rail stops running at midnight," Jonathan said.
Daniel quickly nodded, he had been waiting for Jonathan to say that. The Second World had long entered a cashless society, and he didn't know how to pay or find his way home in this unfamiliar place. What if he got lost? So he thought of Jonathan. Jonathan also lived on Baker Street, and they could go back together when he was done.
Jonathan led Daniel to the station with familiarity.
Daniel was looking around curiously. When he saw the advertisements projected in mid-air, he gasped slightly, amazed by the brilliance of holographic imaging technology.
"What year are you in?" Jonathan asked casually.
"I'm a freshman, just received my acceptance letter this morning, and got admitted into the mechanical department," Daniel scratched his hair.
"Black Sea College tuition is not cheap, have you found a way to get a loan?" Jonathan further probed, in order not to make his probing seem too deliberate, he purposely said, "I took many detours to go to college, just a heads up, don't mess with loan sharks."
"Okay." Daniel asked, "How expensive is the tuition... exactly?"
Jonathan recalled the information he had seen, "Over two hundred thousand dollars a year, not including living expenses."
"What?!" Daniel was shocked, "Why don't they just rob? This is a university that's supposed to cultivate talent! How many excellent students must be deterred by such high tuition fees?"
Jonathan looked at Daniel strangely, he lowered his voice weakly, "This tuition is outrageous, it's far from reasonable!"
"There's nothing we can do, it's the rule," Jonathan said.
Daniel muttered under his breath, "What a messed up world..."
Education monopoly, large wealth gap, and class differentiation, this is the current state of the Second World. The rich can afford to go to college and can receive higher education, and ordinary people without the ability can only engage in lower-paid jobs, over time the wealth gap grows larger, and the class becomes more and more solidified. The education of the Second World is not to cultivate talents but to consolidate the interests of the elite class.
"Senpai!" Daniel moved closer to Jonathan and said, "Is there any way to get a legal loan?"
This kid is really sweet, calling me Senpai already.
Jonathan said, "Banks, but approval's uncertain. Interest rates can be high"
Daniel said with a worried face, "I'm really afraid I won't be able to go to school."
The Second World is a capitalist society, why would capitalists who don't get up early without profit do charity?
Until the rail car arrived, Daniel was still looking worried.
This is interesting. Jonathan had confirmed that Daniel was a player. He should have been in this world for less than a day and should not have much sense of belonging here, but he was genuinely worried about the money for school as if it mattered.
Jonathan had once triggered a game system task to "investigate the port explosion case", could it be that the task Daniel triggered was "Enroll at Black Sea College"?
If that was the case, then his behavior made sense.
"Let's get in the car." Jonathan walked ahead, scanning his face to pay.
Daniel followed closely and also paid by face scan, but the machine indicated "Insufficient balance, face scan payment failed."
Daniel "…?!"
He scanned again, and the machine still indicated "Insufficient balance, face scan payment failed."
Jonathan looked at him pityingly, walked to the identification machine, and scanned for him. "Face recognition passed, payment successful."
He patted the stunned Daniel and said, "I paid for you, thank you for accompanying me to the Investigation Department."
Daniel was almost in tears, "Damn, why am I so poor, is there really any hope for me to go to college?"
"Work hard, there will be a chance." Jonathan showed a look of shared misery.
This was not only a case of fellow countrymen meeting, but also a meeting of the poor.
Jonathan understood Daniel's feelings very well, because in the First World, he was also worrying about living expenses and tuition fees, but the amount he needed for tuition was not as exaggerated as over two hundred thousand dollars a year.
The rail car sped all the way, stopping at Baker Street.
"Uh, is it a bit dangerous to walk alone, or should I..." Daniel stopped, "It seems that you don't need me to accompany you with your combat power."
"You go home, I'll be fine. " Jonathan waved his hand.
Daniel said, "Goodbye, senior... wait, leave a contact!"
Jonathan took out the communicator given by Martin, and after much fumbling, Daniel finally managed to add his contact.
The downpour showed no signs of stopping. Jonathan left with his umbrella and after making several turns, he finally found his home.
It was a dilapidated complex with peeling walls and seedy ads for escorts. The lobby stank of mildew, rusty doors squeaking open at a touch.
He walked up to the third floor and stopped at the door, gripping the doorknob.
"Fingerprint verification passed." The door opened.
Stepping inside, a sudden sense of alarm surfaced in his heart. He looked up and was startled to see a shadow sitting on the sofa in the living room.
A silver mask obscured his face, eyes glinting through the holes fixed on Jonathan.
"You're late"
This tone, it was as if he knew Jonathan.
"I ran into a little accident on the way," Jonathan quickly responded, picking up the conversation.
"Did you review the mission chip the boss sent?"
"Not yet," he answered tersely, wary of saying too much at once would betray his nervousness.
"Okay. The boss told me to tell you that this task must be completed, no matter the cost." The man with the silver mask stood up from the sofa, "Starting today, I'm your partner for operations in Black Sea City. My codename is 'fox', and you need to come up with a codename for yourself."
Codename? Jonathan's mind raced.
Fox said, "The codename should have nothing to do with your personal characteristics, the further apart, the better, don't let others associate you through the codename..."
"Richguy."
Fox was taken aback, "What did you say?"
"Richguy." Jonathan repeated calmly, "Codename, richguy."
He thought the codename "richguy" was quite good. Not only was "richguy" far removed from him, but it was also practically a world apart.
Fox"..."
He hesitated for a long time before saying, "This... Are you sure you want to be called this?"
"Sure." Jonathan was resolute, "Call me richguy."
This was a codename that was both far removed from him, yet also encapsulated his aspirations for the future. His dream was to be a rich guy!
"Alright, 'richguy'." The expression under Fox's mask was indescribable, "Quickly look at the task the boss gave you."
Jonathan took out the chip from his pocket and placed it on his bracelet to read.
The first line of the task information read, "Mission, completely destroy the port of Black Sea City."
Jonathan was dumbfounded, "???"
What on earth was wrong with these NPCs?! Why were they so hellbent on destroying this port?!
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
FETI
FETI Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
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