The orange sunlight bakes the sand and stone.
The wind rushing down the throat feels worse than swallowing a blade.
Talia leans in the shadow of a tent, frowning at the front—her high-performance wild beast, recently swapped for a new engine, hasn’t hit the cross-city route for a while.
"Full Cup Delivery."
John lifts two bottles of chilled beer single-handedly.
Talia takes it, clinks, and gulps it down.
She actually prefers stronger stuff, but hasn’t had ti to shop, tilts her head and stares at the tallic patterns on John’s hand, asking.
"The new implant looks badass, are you finally going to beco a big shot in Eden City?"
"Heh."
John smiles bitterly twice, sits on the tal table. "You want the truth or so amusent?"
Talia rolls the bottle across her face.
"Heartfelt? If you want to tumble into bed, you can just say so."
John silently shows the middle finger.
Talia laughs it off, becoming cheerful again.
"No more teasing, let’s chat."
"When I first mixed in the streets, I thought being a rcenary was making money, free, and soon a comfortable life."
John lounges back with arms resting on raised knees, lazily gripping the glass bottle, looking out at the distant sand.
"Turns out everywhere is damn calculations, sches, traps... Everyone has to weigh pros and cons with you, happiness and freedom are getting less and less."
"Hahaha, you’re right, John. Thank heaven, there’s even one sane mind."
Talia drains the bottle.
John says, seizing the mont.
"I lost the vodka."
"That’s really boring."
Talia shows a disdainful look, glances at his gun holster, hesitates for a few seconds before her smile fades away.
"Sangma Rebi Pool..."
She intends to crack the beer bottle over John’s head, but suddenly both of them look towards the camp’s gate.
A fleet of business cars advances through the wind and sand.
[Vehicle: Louis Doug - Contemplator]
Black wear-resistant matte car paint.
Fully equipped with high-strength armor, electromagnetic disruptor, a squad of five cars exudes a taste of luxurious elegance.
The wanderers inside and outside the RV all look over.
Even those usually composed put down what they’re doing temporarily, remove their cowboy hats to fan or plant their chanical arms on their knees, lazily stepping on sothing and chattering to others.
The fact that the sentry didn’t trigger alarm ans these vehicles are invited.
Oulos steps away from the electric car door dressed in hacker cooling suit.
She has a hoodie on, short hair sticking out.
Followed by bodyguards all uniformly dressed in slacks and shirts, silently carrying various weapons and gear into the tent.
"That chick is so cool."
Talia squints, pouts. "Look at her, exquisite like a titanium narrow magazine, I feel I’m about to bend."
She lavishly praises in the wanderer’s manner.
Other camp mbers have mixed feelings, seemingly wary of such company-style strangers.
Oulos walks past surrounded by people, casually takes off her glasses and gestures John to follow along.
"She talks business, not emotions."
John sincerely reminds Talia.
Oulos should have contacted Nando, as everyone supposed to be present is inside the tent when she walks in.
She is a collaborator and the biggest beneficiary of this action, providing support from all aspects.
Oulos brings more detailed diagrams.
Including terrain distribution and internal structure analysis of Silver Port, detectable mobile equipnt points under infrared scans...
She’s half a head shorter than Alonna but speaks with a presence aid to match Nando’s status.
The camp mbers all realize Oulos is not easily trifled with.
Nando shows helplessness, props up on the table, frowns, and shakes his head.
"You should’ve brought it earlier... we have to adjust personnel ratios and battle plans based on this intelligence. The showdown with the Exile gang is no joke, inadequate preparation will bring hardship."
"Timing is just right, too early and it could leak."
"Typical middleman style, you are never worried about betrayal because you never trust others, this is a camp, family and company are different things."
"Really? What about the 75-year mob war? How did Damascus Camp form?"
Oulos counters with an example, seemingly aiming to hold the dominant stance during cooperation.
Nando listens, eyebrows raised, smiles and shares a mutual glance with soone nearby, then turns uniformly to stare at her.
"You’ve got quite a network."
John turns to ask Talia—what are they referring to, has Nando been betrayed before?
"It’s a very old story..."
Talia sighs and flips the jacket resting on her flesh.
Crack.
Alonna picks up a package and throws it in front of them, other camp mbers at her back carry large boxes distributing various equipnt.
[dic: Radiation-Condening Injection [Pump Type]]
[Manufacturer: Longsheng Pharmaceutical Group]
This batch is prepared through Kuang Xin’s channels, ti was tight, hence limited quantities, no redundancy for secondary equipnt.
Thus the battle must end within twelve hours, or resistance dicine and isolation asures will fail, leading to irreversible consequences of prolonged exposure in nuclear radiation zones.
[Team communication invite/confirmation]
Night temperature starts to drop sharply.
As usual, John sits in the sa car with Alonna.
He swapped for tactical gear from a military enterprise, adjusted well to special bullet-proof vest and boots.
Feels like a street kid turned into a corporate pup.
John walks out the tent searching for his ride.
Oulos stays in the back of a business car, waves him over, draws close to find a box placed by her feet.
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