The wealthy and powerful are all trying to leave the Bolago Club.
The airspace routes must be packed, and there are surely many hovercars and drones cutting in line.
Oulos cannot arrange another pickup.
[Mission Objective Update]
[Leave the Bolago Club. (Not Achieved)]
Angelica has safely left.
John placed the magazine in a readily accessible spot, began to survey the positions, and slowly stepped toward the combat zone.
The banquet hall is right beneath him.
Screams and gunfire erupted from there, the crackling flas even causing a small portion of the upstairs carpet to curl.
John has to make his way through it.
He hadn’t reached the staircase when he heard a roar.
Bam.
Two heavily modified changeling gang mbers almost used their bodies to batter open the employee passage door, with smoke rising from them, shouting hoarsely as they scanned the surroundings for prey.
Huh, huh~
The breathing noises they made sounded hoarser than the oldest wrecks in a junkyard, like exhaust pipes stuffed with cotton, and urine diluted in the fuel tank.
"F*ck, what the hell are these things?"
John was taken aback by their disgusting appearance.
The changeling gang mbers turned their faces.
Their cheekbones and above were covered with black and red tallic structures, skin blistering from the heat.
Two red eyeballs rotated.
It seed to have thermal imaging capability, directly locking onto John.
"%...&￥..."
In the hallway, indistinct Japanese echoed.
John’s translation plugin failed to capture the content, just saw them charging at him like chanical zombies from a Super Sensing Chip.
They emitted thick smoke, their prosthetics like springs.
Bang bang bang.
John pulled the trigger, simultaneously activating Sianweistan.
Bullets gradually slow in the air.
One gang mber’s hand sprouted claws, charred flesh stuck around the blade, a mix of blood and prosthetic body buffer fluid splattered everywhere.
Warm, with a bad feeling.
Thud!
John evaded twice, raised the rifle to shoot at the man’s forehead.
The bullet pierced the attacker’s scalp, exposing alloy layers, the weight-bearing steel spike of prosthetic eye penetrated the back of the head...
Yet he was still alive!
The gunshot victim lifted his head, opened his mouth, blood pooling around his teeth.
His claws plunged into the floor, unable to retract for a while, only able to roar at John.
The temperature in the hallway gradually increased.
Faint smoke perated.
Another gang mber stepped on his companion’s spine, lunging toward John’s evasive position.
It seed their minds retained only killing.
Instinctively, John dodged backward.
Whish—
Sothing whizzed by in the air.
He wanted to activate Sianweistan but realized he wasn’t wearing the cooling jacket, the prosthetic body program was still buffering.
Forcing activation would trigger Black Light protection.
But John was unsure if his body could endure until the battle’s end.
A slight sting interrupted his thoughts.
John’s rifle kept firing, bullets flying, yet unable to halt the enemy’s advance.
That gang mber flew into the air like a wolf, his lips surrounded by high temperature blisters, with steam echoing through the hallway released from their joints!
John engaged in close combat, reverse leg kicking, hitting the enemy’s abdon.
The enemy flew backward.
John withdrew his leg, only to find several blood marks on the trousers, his cheek previously grazed, radiating a hot pain.
Zzzzz—
The gang mber clawed at the wall, knocked over tables, stepping on and crushing flowerbeds, finally forcibly stabilizing himself.
Laying on the ground, he roared at John!
Bam!
The scent of blood in the air intensified.
The attacker raised his head and roared, like a berserk beast, suddenly ejecting several monofilant lines, like veins hidden under muscle bursting out, quickly becoming red-hot in air.
"F*ck!"
John finally realized what weapon had injured him!
Whish, whish—
He rolled to dodge into a corner, switching to the Rapid Runner Submachine Gun.
Enemy charged through the corridor toward him again!
The gang mber with the trapped arm was unintentionally hard.
The flying monofilant lines wrapped around his limbs, slicing them clean off, with tal structures exploding into arcs.
Bullets flew through the corridor.
John evaded the whizzing monofilant lines.
The bullets from the submachine gun in his hand emptied in a blink.
Smart bullets curved in the cramped space, landing on enemy flesh, flickering blue flas.
The bullet flas continued flickering.
On the wall, nacing shadows were imprinted with splintering flesh.
The battle seed over.
"Huh, huh..."
John leaned against the wall panting, furrowing his brow, skin faintly aching from scorching monofilant lines.
He held the slightly overheating submachine gun, seeing the corpse toppled ahead.
"%...&%%..."
The hallway still reverberated with roars.
John quickly checked the magazine, turned to shoot.
The changeling gang mber with the trapped chanical arm’s eye sockets burst, body and soul now at peace.
John’s prosthetic eye initiated a scan.
[Status: Cyber Psychosis [equipnt failure]]
"F*ck, truly madn."
John cursed under his breath.
The commotion from the downstairs banquet hall continued.
Unsure how many similar cyber psychotics invaded the Bolago Club.
What exactly is the Eastern People’s objective?
Sending "Chuan" for assassination, why stir up such commotion?
John hadn’t figured it out yet.
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