The apartnt is very comfortable, quiet and free, plus the workspace has just been renovated...
John had no intention of moving out, so he linked his account and paid the rent.
The length of the bill was a bit intimidating.
It included vehicle maintenance packages, mandatory insurance, program subscriptions, and energy consumption expenses...
"Really hurts a bit."
John felt the cost of becoming soone important.
But it wasn’t a big deal.
The missions John took on were getting more dangerous, but he was earning more too, more than enough to cover the periodic expenses, with so money left over for buying a large transport drone.
After all, the landfill had resud operations, and the captain and transport agreents needed to be rebuilt as soon as possible.
If the cabinet doesn’t update...
He’d have to find another corporate transport aircraft.
This thought popped up, and John couldn’t help but laugh—the doctor was right, as one’s capabilities increase, their mindset inevitably becos arrogant.
After paying, John suddenly rembered sothing.
What about his Eisenberg Silver Rider?
Mr. Vito had said the car was sent for repairs, how co there was no news until now?
The system interface was still flashing.
John casually browsed and found that the account that had helped him with the rent back then was deactivated, and even more absurd, the rent guarantor was changed.
From Mr. Vito replaced by...
[Ethan Ratliff]
"Bone Shards?"
John frowned.
The sound of water in the shower abruptly stopped.
John wiped himself off, took a gray vest from the dryer, and put it on.
There were two voice ssages.
The first na that caught his eye was Bone Shards, and the content was basically asking John to contact him after returning to the apartnt.
John operated the drink machine and called directly—asking the person involved was the most convenient.
[Contact - Ethan Ratliff (Voice Call)]
This guy’s profile fra was of skin tattoos, the microphone icon rippled with the electronic ringtone, and it was answered just a second before hanging up.
[Speak.]
"Huh? Mr. Ratliff, you’re the damn one who left a ssage for to call."
John picked up his coffee and sat on the sofa.
Laughter ca from the other end of the line.
[I warned you, John, the West District would be in turmoil, and the businesses I’ve taken over include property leasing. You’ve probably noticed so changes.]
"Oh, stop it, I’m not interested in your power struggles at all, I just don’t like you hovering around ."
[John, you live on Black Gold Gang’s territory.]
"If you really wanted to force to move, why bother calling? I’m really not in the mood for guessing gas right now, just say what you want directly."
John made his stance clear.
"I’m a rcenary, no problem taking jobs, but the content and price have to please ."
[Picky?]
"Then don’t hire , let’s just maintain our landlord-tenant relationship, any closer and we’d both feel disgusted."
John knew the gang war had already begun.
Lone wolves and renowned teams on the streets had been recruited by the major corporations and gangs, and Black Gold Gang would certainly need a lot of rcenaries.
There was work everywhere in Eden City now.
Bone Shards silently laughed for a mont, seemingly changing rooms before speaking again.
[I’m a businessman looking to make an investnt, also your sports car is with ...]
"...F*cking hell."
John wasn’t flustered, just felt a sense of disgust like being pestered by a pervert.
"Do you know what happened to the last person who touched my car?"
[Why so tense? I have no interest in Silver Rider 577, the chop shops under Vito were just run by poor kids with no eye or taste. I’ve arranged for it to be upgraded, fitted with parts and programs unavailable on the market.]
"Is that also part of the investnt?"
John figured Bone Shards was starting to talk business.
[I have money and resources, you need to show professional attitude and ability.]
"Did I agree to cooperate?"
[This has sothing to do with Vito Russell, there will be a banquet in the West District at the end of the month, the venue is on the mber floors of the Bolago Club, contact then.]
Bone Shards spoke coldly.
[This is Vito Russell’s retirent party.]
John squinted his eyes and asked back.
"You want to kill Vito?"
[Ha, if I said yes, would you agree?]
"Bullets tend to misfire and go astray."
[I thought you’d finally matured, forget it, just rember to make ti to attend, we’ll discuss the specific deal then, also I advise you to keep this call’s content confidential.]
"Or else what?"
John frowned and replied.
[The retirent party is about power struggle, you don’t understand high-level politics and interest competition, and I’m too lazy to explain.]
Bone Shards rarely exuded the brutality of a gang leader, more like a calculating businessman.
The call ended.
The empty glass was placed on the coffee table.
John walked to the glass window with his hands in his pockets, looking at the skyscrapers under the pale sunlight.
It’s indeed more chaotic than before.
Assassinations and frontal attacks occur at any ti, and you can even hear explosions during the day, the lingering echoes of sirens drifting in the city’s air, along with indistinct gunfire...
John called Vito.
But neither the call nor the voicemail received a response. Jilead answered the phone, but he also said he hadn’t seen Mr. Vito for a long ti.
There was still so ti until the end of the month.
John had plenty of ti to think it over.
He had a pretty good impression of Mr. Vito, who plays the role of "Godfather" in the gang.
A master who alternates between tough and soft approaches.
John had received help and guidance from Vito.
The two parties had no major personal debts.
But John, during his younger days, received kindness from the big shot of the Black Gold Gang.
He always thought about repaying in so way.
Perhaps Vito didn’t need that.
But John thought so himself.
John temporarily set things aside.
The other news was from the cabinet:
The unmanned transport vehicle John ordered was ready, and he could pay the balance at the shop in his spare ti.
With the information processed,
John lay down on the big bed, unfamiliar yet familiar, the disrupted schedule caused his heartbeat to quicken, exhaustion seeped out of his bones, and before long, it overwheld his will.
That nap was quite comfortable.
John napped several tis, controlling himself to get up for work at dawn.
[Eden City - Oil Barrel Street Underground Tunnel]
Pillars and cent pavent extended overhead, blocking the sunlight and hopes for life.
Oil barrels were burning.
Residual materials crackled and popped.
As soon as John crossed the open space, he saw:
A corpse hung in mid-air, close to the dwellings temporarily built by the holess.
The body swayed in the wind.
Evidence of gambling was scattered around; it seed like this guy wasn’t lucky—having failed to turn the tide, he sent himself to hell.
Death can wait, but it never loses.
The natives passed by indifferently; those who could take root here were not good people in the conventional sense.
The number of oil barrels seed to be increasing.
More unfamiliar faces appeared on the street, with the traffic and housing density in the industrial area rising.
The air was always filled with unease.
With his modified legs, John’s steps were light, often startling people as he brushed past them at turns.
He noticed that renovations were taking place around.
It seed like more illegal businesses were gathering here, with dangerous elents and gang mbers coming and going, likely to develop into a new underground comrcial street.
[No signs of hacking detected during the scan.]
The sound of a lock bolt retracting ca from behind the shutter door.
John bent down to lift it, and in his view from bottom to top appeared a pair of leather pants, suddenly...
Bang!
A loud noise erupted from above him.
"F*ck!"
John instinctively activated Sianweistan.
The cabinet stood frozen in place.
He held a party popper in his hand, colorful ribbons slowly fell from above both their heads.
A jack-in-the-box on the table and at his feet jumped up.
A cheeky carnival clown twisted on springs while the lid flew and hit the cabinet’s head.
He didn’t move erratically.
His chin was held at gunpoint by John.
The two locked eyes for quite a while.
The cabinet broke the impasse by blowing a terrible whistle, gently pushing the gun aside with his hand.
"Surprise?"
He sounded slightly exasperated.
"Seems like your recent days have been quite dangerous, with such a big reaction... Could it be PTSD?"
"F*ck you, dumbass, you should be thankful my fingers are steady enough."
John breathed a sigh of relief, putting away the Widow.
The cabinet smiled and picked up an e-cigarette.
"I’ve heard so rumors, seeing you in the flesh feels a bit different."
He glanced over John’s new parts.
"Ah, you’ve beco a big shot too."
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