The sign for Raven International Hub is enormous.
A row of tal letters stretches across the warehouse roof, with so of the lights broken and dim.
The road is also a bit bumpy.
But the searchlights are glaringly bright.
"John, the woman we’re eting is a lot like you, both with a kind of naive vigor. Her backing company finds her troubleso, all of Palr’s colleagues want her dead, and even those who have received her help aren’t necessarily grateful."
Oulos raised her head, basking in the artificial sunlight.
"You should have ended up the sa way, it’s a pity, you died so fast you didn’t realize how stupid you were."
"You’re really speaking harshly today."
John frowned, following her into the warehouse.
The inside of the tal roof has a skeleton, with many pulley systems and lifting machines in operation.
Below the searchlights, forklifts co and go incessantly.
Tires with nacing patterns repeatedly crush into the pooled water.
Chunks of ice are shattered by the tires, bouncing onto tal tables and folding benches, slowly lting.
The people seated around the table gradually noticed Oulos and John approaching from the doorway.
They were all employees of Raven International.
But the interdiary Oulos was looking for was actually the owner of this hub.
She was by the wall.
There was a row of freezers placed there, with neon tubes on the wall forming shapes.
A woman in a leather jacket, with disheveled, greasy curls, looked at a freezer while smoking.
John noticed it was a traditional cigarette, and not a Golden Apple brand; it was a cheap street cigarette that he smoked for a while when he first ca to Eden City.
This cigarette was strong, harsh on the throat, and ubiquitous.
An interdiary in charge of Palr’s overseas factory is smoking such a cheap grade product?
John instinctively scanned the other party’s profile information.
[Na: Yura Young]
[Affiliation: Interdiary [Raven International]]
[Scan: Alloy Skeleton, Network Access Vault [Isaac Military Industry U20], Argos Bionic Eye I-16 type, etc.]
The next second...
A cacophony erupted in the entire warehouse, dozens of heavily tattooed, muscular n grabbed their weapons.
They ford a human wall, shielding Yura behind them.
The forklifts blocked the way out.
Curses erupted simultaneously.
Colorful gun barrels aid at John.
The weapons had different calibers, complex origins; so were from Europe and so from Asia, all modified to various extents.
John grabbed Oulos, shielding her behind him.
Thud, thud, thud.
Yura knocked on the freezer door with her fist.
"Let them in... and all of you stop lazing around! Clean up the rchandise right under your noses, or I’ll skin you if you leave a single box!"
Bam—
She held a section of tethering strap, now folded and clenched in her hand, and, after speaking, whipped it against a tal box with a loud sound, as if striking the hearts of everyone nearby.
The burly n with unfriendly eyes dispersed.
The hum of the machinery grew even louder, and the forklifts maneuvering between blocks beca more concentrated.
John followed Oulos forward, his bionic eye instinctively locking onto the contents of the freezer.
It was actually two people in there.
They were wearing uniforms, seemingly employees of a company.
Daring to openly kill company dogs?
This scene alone involved at least three felonies.
The bodies in the freezer were bound hand and foot, their bionic eyes frozen, eyelids half-shut unevenly, the cooling fluid of their under-skin armor frozen and stagnant, bodies bruised.
These two were frozen to death alive.
Was Yura making a deliberate show of force?
John couldn’t help but glance at Oulos.
But she acted as if she hadn’t seen anything, casually sitting down and placing a half-drunk bottle of sparkling water on the table.
"Are you the one stuffing my inbox with junk?"
Yura also turned, sitting on a folding stool.
Her temples were graying, wrinkles deep, her physique sturdyly built; a pair of Hiti Industry combat boots braced against the table leg.
A mighty old woman.
"Five minutes for you, talk or get lost."
"I want a person."
"Sure."
Yura grinned, showing an ugly smile, pointing with the folded tie-strap behind Oulos.
"These are all good n, take your pick, girl."
"But I’m looking for a girl."
Ignoring her crude humor, Oulos shook her head with a smile and continued describing.
"She’s an East Asia-Caucasian mix, has an Isaac Military Industry spine, a right bionic eye with a tear scar, oh and the pupils are red..."
As Oulos described, Yura’s expression gradually changed, even gesturing to her guards to block off the warehouse exit.
"You’re also here for ’Red Falcon’?"
Yura sneered, stamping out her cigarette under her foot.
"Eastern People have co, Ghouls have co, even folks from the company have co asking for her whereabouts. What kind of ss did she get into that you big shots won’t let go?"
"I’m trying to find out too, so can you tell where she is?"
"Heh, screw you!"
Yura flipped the steel table, pulling out a gun from her waist.
John reacted quickly, pressing the table down with his leg before it hit Oulos, raising his rifle in return.
There were also capable fighters in the warehouse.
The instant Yura flipped the table, at least three Sianweistan n around activated, and anyone approaching Oulos took a bullet.
John only fired as a warning, aiming for the leg bones.
No one here was dumb; with just one exchange, they saw—John’s Sianweistan level was higher, enough to kill Yura under the table before anyone could react.
He raised the rifle, interrogating.
"It’s my first ti eting an honorable interdiary, why the need to be so coy? Lay everything out clearly, can’t we all be polite?"
"You’ve t too few people, exceptions exist for everything, kid. If soone’s selling their life for you, you have to take responsibility for them."
Yura gave a bitter smile, shaking her head.
She hadn’t drawn her gun, but instead let go.
John was a bit surprised.
"Do you think I won’t kill you?"
"Damn, you’re new."
Yura glanced at John.
"I know you’re skilled, put your weapon away. If you want to negotiate, you can’t kill . What? Can you kill everyone in the warehouse? Even if you can, you won’t get out of Palr, the Eastern People will scent you and co after you; neither side will spare you. Even assuming you could, could you protect your employer while fighting?"
Yura turned her gaze to Oulos.
She hadn’t even blinked when the table flipped but seed to regret the bottle of spilled sparkling water.
Yura started negotiating.
"I don’t know where Red Falcon is; she did seek out, and I promised to help her."
"You don’t even know what trouble she caused yet believe you can help?"
"I made no such promise."
Oulos knew Yura was being a rascal.
"Loyalty doesn’t buy food, Yura. We haven’t worked together, so maybe you don’t know ..."
"Oh? Who do you think you are?"
Yura behaved wildly, her language crude.
She pressed further.
"Everyone who’s co looking for Yura has nad a price. Look, those two in the freezer behind are the discourteous, non-negotiables. What about you? Girl, what do you want to offer to buy ?"
"Giving nothing. In fact, it’s you begging to handle this ss."
Oulos sat up straight, smiling uprightly.
"Damn, you’re playing ."
Yura spit on the ground, about to lose her temper again.
Oulos shook her head, her expression teasing, and started analyzing the situation for her.
John’s brow twitched slightly.
He recalled the nights at Silver Port; Oulos had this sa expression—casually chatting with Internet Surveillance, establishing the Wanderer’s place with ease, the hard-earned results of hundreds of lives’ war, divvied up in a few sentences.
This was a clash between two interdiaries.
Clearly, Oulos had more accurate intelligence.
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