[Shop - Tipsy Bikini]
The mall was bustling, more lively than he rembered, and the proportion of people carrying dangerous implants was on the rise.
Limb and facial modifications were even more extre.
John took the escalator through the corridor.
A rock musician with six eyes approached him, his female companion had shaved half her head, her scalp adorned with glowing tattoos, and the piercings on their faces could fill a handgun magazine.
The person seed to recognize John, waving his arm to awaken the eye implant’s photo program with a gesture.
[Scan detected, image retention failed.]
John had installed an external cara jamr; ordinary caras couldn’t capture his image.
He glanced down the escalator.
Jilead was passing by with several Black Gold Gang mbers, looking murderous as if they were about to twist soone’s neck.
John happened to miss him at the high ground, but their eyes t unexpectedly.
Jilead’s frown instantly jumped to surprise, raising his hand in acknowledgnt, seemingly amazed he was still alive.
John smiled in response.
At this mont, the elevator carrying the rock musician moved downward, positioning him right between Jilead and John.
The rock musician, frustrated at his unsuccessful attempt to take pictures, appeared quite irritated.
He assud John was mocking him, displaying a disdainful look while raising his middle finger.
What an idiot.
John didn’t even bother to acknowledge him.
Bam.
The rock musician was kicked over just as he stepped off the elevator.
The muscular Black Gold Gang mbers surrounded him.
"What’s your problem, MAN?"
Jilead, full of muscular bulk, looked puzzled, bending over and scrutinizing the little punk closely.
John had no interest in dealing with the commotion happening below.
He walked into the Tipsy Bikini bar, clearly noticing an increase in custors and staff.
The overhead light strips were fully lit.
The pale blue glow offered a touch of fantasy.
Professional waitstaff were working behind the bar, and the attractive won weaving between tables had stunning figures. The red bar stools and dark brown tables were surrounded by a persistent flow of custors.
Business was thriving.
John thought as he continued inward, and then spotted Angelica conversing with Macao by the bar.
"Then ask him yourself for his opinion."
"Oh, he’s just arrived."
Angelica noticed John and imdiately raised her hand in signal, her loose hydrophobic coat sliding down to reveal tattooed shoulders, white skin, and translucent shoulder straps.
"Can I hire you for a boxing match?"
She chose to go straight to the point.
Macao shrugged, indicating they should discuss it themselves.
[Task Series Arena: Thug]
[Reward: Paynt, lee Chip [Random]]
A task notification popped up in John’s view.
Macao patted him on the shoulder, telling him to wait outside and give a shout once he’d made up his mind.
Angelica’s tone was hurried, though her face remained cold.
The bar business was booming, yet she didn’t seem particularly happy, rather tired and annoyed.
"If you have too much money, you might consider transferring so to . Poor guys are about to starve."
John leaned against the bar.
The waiter slid two transparent glass cups over, the pale yellow liquid fizzing with a few bubbles.
Angelica tipped her long legs to steady herself on a red leather high stool, her long hair falling from her hood, blocking the light from the liquor shelves.
If no one ntioned it, new custors might struggle to realize she was the owner of Tipsy Bikini.
She seed more like a rebellious runaway girl.
The bar was a bit noisy.
A table nearby hosted a card-playing group of rcenaries in bulletproof vests and jackets with large graffiti designs.
The leg-crossing one recognized Angelica’s face and imdiately encouraged his companions to stand and approach.
"Wow~ you look stunning."
"How about joining us for a drink?"
...
John sighed, speaking impatiently.
"Could you guys move a bit away? We’ve got business to discuss."
"Exactly."
Angelica found the situation amusing, tilting her head and deliberately pursing her crystal-clear lips.
"I’m telling him a story, not suitable for eavesdropping. Could you give us a little privacy?"
The rcenaries howled.
Several regulars around the bar stood up and began walking over.
Angelica gestured with a hand, pretending to adjust her hair, in fact signaling that the situation was under control and no additional assistance was needed.
Several people stood behind John.
The flickering lights in the bar created shadows that made the already dim corner even darker.
"How about I treat you to so good stuff and free up a table?"
The rcenary leader addressed John, and upon seeing him unmoved, imdiately pressed a hard kinetic revolver against his back.
John’s brows furrowed as he looked at Angelica.
A big pink-mustached head interjected, blocking John’s view, and began whistling at Angelica.
She smiled playfully.
"Don’t break anything, and preferably no bloodshed."
The pink mustache gazed lovingly and passionately. "Don’t worry, my dear, no one will get hurt..."
Snap.
Mm.
Behind him ca strange noises, as if a kind of suppressed moan had been abruptly silenced.
The pink mustache suddenly realized the chick wasn’t warning him.
His mocking expression quickly collapsed as he reached for the gun holster, turning as fast as he could...
The weapon had just been drawn.
A massive shadow descended in front of him.
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