"...Damn it."
According to the mory fragnts’ calculations.
This ti, the unfortunate soul was a cyber psychopath on the run before death.
Do I really have to deal with the special action team?
John speculated in the most pessimistic direction while tidying up the clutter and leaving the scene.
Two Black Spiders climbed through the labyrinth and disappeared from his sight shortly; if you want to track their location, just use the Atlanta Virtual Network.
John had run out of inhibitors.
The hardest material to get for production is the implant fragnts containing biological information.
The only way to obtain them right now is to slowly dig through the junkyard, where the fragnts can roughly be divided into three categories.
The first is as raw material for inhibitors.
The second brings a small amount of cash.
The third triggers task information.
The Black Spider used as an excavation tool was specially programd and modified with a T number.
John has yet to understand the principle behind it.
What are the standards for wreckage to be considered inhibitor material?
Why can task rewards "predict" the future?
What makes the deceased who trigger tasks special?
...
John noted down each confusion and suppressed his wildly growing chaotic thoughts.
He tossed a tal shim to himself and closed the door to the armored vehicle driver’s seat.
Thinking was not his specialty.
Tasks always provide sothing; by doing more, he might eventually find the pattern among them. Maybe so rewards include the answers to his questions?
The magnetic lock door closed with a bang.
The roaring machinery noise of the landfill was isolated outside.
The Jurassic ZT15 turned around, its explosion-proof tires crushed stones and various debris with a dense rustling sound.
Vehicle information popped up on the glass screen.
Day system activated.
The front windshield switched to polarized mode, imdiately blocking the glaring white sunlight, leaving only azure-blue data streams reflecting on John’s face.
[Task Objective Updated]
[Proceed to Sakura Cross Street’s rental area. (Not achieved)]
The gravel under the tires beca less and less.
John passed through the checkpoint’s arched tal.
Eden City’s skyscrapers lood near, transforming from a background into a real, colossal presence towering overhead.
Advertising virtual images soared into the clouds.
John briefly overlooked the orderly mix of Sakura Cross Street, then left the elevated road and dove into the slums.
Chaotic spires and shanties were connected by wires.
A few vividly colored materials dotted the large concrete buildings nearby, while forklifts and containers marked the offshore terminal, with gray water lapping at the shore.
Only three out of ten streetlights stood beside the road.
The maintenance costs clearly couldn’t keep up with the speed of destruction, so the municipals simply saved the budget for this area, as it’s unnecessary to light up during the day, and at night, there will be colorful lights covering it.
The dayti temperature was very high.
The yellow lines on the asphalt road and the green indicator lights slightly warped.
John returned to the rental area based on mory; he had visited the family of a missing municipal repair worker with Barry a few days ago.
He got out of the car.
Squeezed into the low buildings.
"Whew~"
John felt a bit cooler, like hiding in a cave inhabited by bats.
Behind each step and roller shutter was life.
They glanced at John with weary eyes, then resud their tasks or pointless conversations.
There were also toxic insects and wanderers in the alleys.
Garbage piled up in so pattern and scattered evenly over rusty tal sheets and concrete manhole covers.
The tenants mainly consisted of Asians and Africans.
John’s white face was present too, but young rcenaries rarely ventured into Owl Town’s territory.
The task prompt did not provide a specific address.
So John wandered along the graffiti-lined path he liked, and after about five minutes, stopped in front of a half-open roller shutter door.
He saw a pattern composed of a skull and a girl’s skin.
Due to industrial dust and an unclear source of moisture, it faded, with many words and designs overlapping on it as evidence of young people’s bursts or fizzles of inspiration.
Click.
A deliberate chambering sound.
[Keep your head smart and don’t move... (Japanese)]
A deep warning ca from behind.
Despite being in Japanese, it had an Arican accent.
"Do you understand ?"
John stood still, calmly shifting his gaze from the graffiti to the shards of glass at the street corner.
"Don’t f*cking move, f*ck you!"
The thug in a leather jacket switched to English, pressing forward with the gun, but hit the hard Sianweistan, producing a dull collision sound through the clothing.
The alleyway spewed steam.
The robber forced John to move forward; his eyes left the shadow, and through the light, he saw a tal spine, breathing heavily but seemingly stuck in a tense situation.
He hesitated for a mont and suddenly shoved forward, imagining the hostage should stagger and fall, while he would turn and dive into the buildings, pretending nothing happened today.
But he pushed air.
John didn’t even use Sianweistan; he just responded through mirror reflection.
He sidestepped and disard the thug, even raising the back of his hand to smash the robber’s nose.
The situation reversed in an instant.
John grabbed him by the throat, snatching the gun, imdiately sensing a difference in its weight.
He frowned, raised the weapon, initiated a scan, and glanced over the heavy tal block, flipping it to observe the elongated, thickened handle.
[Weapon: Widow [Kinetic Shotgun]]
[Module: Shotgun Constriction, Agile Reload]
[Description: A creatively modified weapon, street-parts paired with ticulous upkeep, yet another masterpiece that stunned Rongo manufacturers.]
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