The night was gradually growing denser.
Hologram projections and the sll of decay were rising, with neon scattered across the wet roads.
John weaved through the traffic, experiencing the driving feel intended by Raqi Industry’s designers.
Every Glaive rider would get used to the little jumps.
On one hand, it’s because of the poor terrain on Sakura Cross Street.
On the other hand, it’s due to the motorcycle’s unique speed collector and shock-absorbing system, allowing the rider to perform more complex and dangerous stunts.
Because of this feature, the Glaive once dominated the mid-range motorcycle market in Eden City, becoming the style most favored by many street stars.
Buzzing —
John arrived at the edge of Sakura Cross Street, following the address.
The area under the cross-district bridge was indeed suitable for gang fights.
The desolate road was surrounded by abandoned construction sites and wide flood channels, with cent walls covered in countless layers of spray paint and gunfire marks.
The scent of blood had drifted far away.
ECPD’s patrol drones hovered overhead, their rolling electronic caution lines blocking the roadsides.
Two police cars were still flashing.
The corpse removal vehicle was packed and began shuttling back and forth.
The remaining officers stood under the searchlights, expertly handling the gang fight scene, drawing lines around white human outlines like a group of artists bullshitting around a nude model.
Gaudy and filthy topics.
Exhausted and lazy expressions.
And the low-sugar coffee casually placed among the clutter.
The drone detected John’s approach, imdiately projecting a red no-entry square on the ground, with the loudspeaker automatically playing blustering legal text.
The officers noticed John.
They instinctively placed their hands on their guns, turned around with furrowed brows, and began reporting the situation on their walkie-talkies.
John needed to inspect the scene.
But he didn’t want to cause trouble, so he sent a ssage to Barry.
Five minutes later.
A higher-ranking officer climbed out of a police car, pressed the horn to get the other officers’ attention, made a hand gesture, and stuck his head out to glance at the area where John was located.
He rely swept over expressionlessly, then returned to the driver’s seat and raised the window, with the reconnaissance drone above lighting up green as well.
[Inspect the scene, search for clues. (Not Achieved)]
John rode to the place with the strongest stench of blood.
Between the overpass and the cracked cent road, there was a dead-end road.
Presumably, it was a political achievent interrupted by so city counciln, or a failed sponsorship scam.
At the mont, it was covered with blood and bodies everywhere.
The cleaning vehicles hadn’t arrived yet.
The blood mixed with gravel still showed traces of an intense battle.
A progress bar flashed before John’s eyes.
The ssiah’s Eye automatically analyzed the scene, seeing the dismbered and blown-up gangsters.
Both from the Owl Town Gang and the Black Gold Gang.
Most of them died horribly.
[Check the rubble. (Not Achieved)]
John followed the prompt information to look at the end of the road — where various flesh and implant debris had been gathered by a bulldozer, sprinkled with deodorizing and decomposing powders like garbage.
"...F*ck."
John frowned, enduring the stench as he moved forward, bypassing obstacles to see a row of body bags.
Why pack them separately?
He puzzled and opened one, only to find bloodstained implants inside.
Checking another...
They were filled with weapons and gold decorations used by Black Gold Gang mbers.
All clearly stripped from the bodies.
Click.
The sound of guns being cocked ca from afar.
A few officers raised their guns at John, with the policeman who was in the car earlier now stepping forward, calmly holding up a cup of coffee towards John.
He rolled up his sleeve to reveal an alloy prosthetic, loosely tucked at his waist, and peered at John from above his sunglasses.
The officer spoke in a warning tone.
"You’ve crossed the line, buddy."
"I thought Barry had already inford you."
John played his trump card.
The officer responded with a sneering smile.
"F*cking hell... he’s already living comfortably and wants you to share our scraps? That’s a bit much."
"I thought his rank was higher than yours."
"Indeed it is."
The leading officer frowned, his face filled with defiance, but after a sigh, signaled the officers to lower their weapons.
He switched to a softer tone.
"We need to answer for ourselves too, brother. Barry isn’t the chief; he can’t overstep too much either."
The surrounding officers also showed unfriendly expressions.
John wasn’t new to this ga.
He knew Barry’s style—it was impossible for him to let his crew go hungry while doing the dirty work.
That ant these people’s leader wasn’t Barry, and they were jealous of the other crooked cops under Barry.
John made a probing remark.
"I get it, really. When your salary is cut, you have to supplent through these gray channels to support your family, it’s unavoidable. But I didn’t expect to be exploited layer by layer even on this path."
"Heh... fuck you."
The officer thought John was deliberately hitting a sore spot, broke down instantly, and started cursing.
Others also gritted their teeth.
Patrol drones were adjusted to a further distance.
The dark, windy night was very suitable for discussing so private topics.
John raised his chin and asked.
"Have you been robbed?"
"...What do you an?"
The cops were a bit puzzled, feeling a bad premonition creeping in.
John silently picked up a scattered helt nearby, donned it, adjusted his high-end cooling leather jacket, and pointed to the original full-featured Glaive in the distance...
"Go back and report to your boss that there’s a mid-level manager from the Sakura Group among the corpses, the prosthetics theft was exposed, and the Owl Town gang attacked, taking everything."
"...Shit, are you saying..."
Upon hearing these words, the officers were visibly agitated.
But the guy wearing sunglasses raised his hand to stop his colleagues, seemingly intrigued despite his frown.
Soone beside him whispered a warning.
"Don’t stir up trouble."
"We don’t even know who he is; can’t trust him."
"Just Barry’s trap."
...
The man with sunglasses listened to each comnt, crossed his arms, and retorted.
"Nearly sixty people died in this firefight; who didn’t feel tempted while bagging up the bodies earlier? If successful, it’s like getting half a year’s performance bonus and perfect attendance... I an for everyone."
Silence descended under the bridge.
In the distance, a company hovercar approached, its searchlight sweeping across the knitted-brow faces one by one.
John wasn’t bothered by their discussions.
After proposing the idea, he began rummaging through a bag of weapons and finally focused on a gun.
[Weapon: Nova (Kinetic Energy Rifle)]
[Module: Advanced Penetration, Incendiary Ammunition]
[Description: Designed by Raqi Military Group, the most reliable high-efficiency firepower in street battles. Its original owner considered himself a rising nova in the gang and invested his savings in this expensive weapon.]
The silver body was equipped with a scope and an upgraded grip.
The chip was also ticulously selected.
John looted a few magazines from the bag, pocketing the handy weapon.
For close-range use, the kinetic short cannon [Widow].
For driving and close-quarters combat, the submachine gun [Rapid Runner].
Additionally, the rifle nad [Nova] complenting firepower at different ranges.
John stood up after gearing up.
The officer with sunglasses stood in front of him too, asking directly.
"How much do you want?"
The guy didn’t recognize John, thinking he was one of Barry’s n, plus tonight’s deal was shady business; they couldn’t just run the law enforcent caras and police scanners, right?
John patted the gun in his hand.
"This is enough."
"F*ck, are you really serious?"
The officer grew skeptical instead.
Generosity during tense negotiations seed insincere and unreliable.
But they quickly cald down.
To make the story more realistic, John used the scavenged weapons to give a couple of cops superficial injuries, enhanced by his experintal alloy skeleton and several combat chips, allowing attendees to suffer varying degrees of fractures and sprains.
"At least this might earn you paid leave, giving you ti to deal with the loot."
"...Ugh, damn it, but that’s only half pay!"
The cops leaned together, two knocked unconscious, others griping through gritted teeth.
"Does half pay matter when the money arrives?"
John just shrugged.
He tied the loot to heavy objects and tossed them into the water, leaving this group to find ti to retrieve it.
John crouched in front of the man wearing sunglasses.
Deliberately going easy on him, he asked.
"I’m looking for a small leader from Owl Town nad Sato Kei; do you know the specifics, where did the surviving goons disappear to?"
"...They escaped before the special operations team arrived."
This quick-thinking cop began unloading information, very detailed, even using his account to pull surveillance footage from the incident as a token of gratitude to John.
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