"What?"
John looked towards the back seat of his vehicle.
Red Falcon was tightly wrapped in a bedsheet, nestled in the gap between the seats.
Her red cybernetic eyes reveal shock and fear.
The intelligence she provided was accurate, just with so discrepancies in the details.
Back then in the hovercar, the person who followed Samuel into the "Key Room" wasn’t Hughes, it was Red Falcon.
The big shots of Eden City were shooting at them.
Samuel, who was walking ahead, died.
Hughes, tasked with covering the rear, also died.
That terrifying scene was deeply engraved in her red cybernetic eyes.
And now, from the sa pair of eyes.
The floating figure had beco Oulos.
Her pupils flickered with data, the program was calculating Red Falcon’s every micro-expression and emotional change.
"You saw it, right?"
Oulos questioned.
Red Falcon’s cybernetic eyes retained the live video footage.
This was the most valuable intelligence from the hovercar incident, extracting it was simple, just needing a data cable.
But Oulos wanted Red Falcon’s eyes.
[Mission Objective Updated]
[Retrieve Red Falcon’s cybernetic eyes. (Optional)]
[Reject. (Optional)]
John chose a knife sharp enough.
Compared to the sweaty and nervous Red Falcon, what he pondered was Oulos’s change after seeing Red Falcon—only the results mattered, no matter the ans, contemptuously disregarding interest exchange when dealing with those of lower ecological status.
This was the true face of the interdiary.
[Interdiaries have no friends, John, our first lesson entering the trade is learning betrayal and using others.]
John recalled the words Oulos once said.
His hands didn’t stop—Silver Rider’s supercar emitted a slight vibration, blood scraped against the table and foot mat.
[I’m the kind of absolute rational businessman; negotiation and interest exchange is my familiar domain. If I’ve made you feel I’m friendly and open to deep conversation, it’s just my social habits at play.]
John couldn’t help but wonder:
If Red Falcon didn’t relent, would Oulos really kill the rcenary’s sister?
Probably would.
[A good woman always teaches a man sothing.]
Why did it have to be ?
Was it just a chance to stain my hands with blood?
John felt no emotional fluctuation—the cruel scenes had long desensitized him after nurous rcenary tasks filled with gore.
The basent was quiet.
Only Red Falcon emitted faint breaths and groans.
Until John severed the last adhesive nerve muscle, the air was filled with disinfectant and the fresh scent of blood.
John stared at the optical cybernetic eye of "Argos" in his hand—the tal thread grooves were tinged red.
Oulos took away the cybernetic eye.
John’s view only showed his blood-stained palm.
[I’m not a good person.]
He thought.
Click.
Oulos placed a box in his wet palm.
"The remaining paynt for the hovercar incident, this deal’s settled."
She didn’t care about John’s hands covered in blood, holding his wrist reeking of stench, pulling him close, and virtually kissing his cheek three tis.
"I forgive you, goodbye."
Oulos left with Red Falcon’s eyes.
John stared at the battle scars within the garage, sowhat disoriented, until Red Falcon in the backseat let out a painful moan.
She was still alive.
Argos-brand cybernetic eyes leave so space inside the skull; removing the cone-shaped core wasn’t a fatal wound.
John was swift with his actions—calm during the severing process, avoiding massive bleeding and abrasion injuries.
The most crucial point was...
The interdiary spared her.
Oulos didn’t even take the surgical kit left on the ground.
John implented ergency asures for Red Falcon—this barely made her feel better.
"How should I deal with you?"
John lightly tapped the steering wheel, leaving Sky View Apartnt.
In the backseat, Red Falcon seed extrely miserable, trembling slightly as the vehicle began to move.
She let out a sigh, like resigning to fate.
"What’s the consequence of offending an interdiary? Honestly, the mont I jumped off that hovercar, I already died; every extra second lived is a bonus."
This was the outco Red Falcon foresaw.
[Talk to Red Falcon. (Optional)]
"Maybe it’s not that bad? She didn’t ask to kill you."
Although John said this, the Red-tailed hawk showed no reaction.
Both of them understood:
John didn’t even need to shoot; death was just a matter of ti.
The car was enveloped in silence.
John realized he had beco quite strange.
In the past, he would have found a clinic as soon as he left the parking lot, but now he actually needed a reason.
John felt that what he took wasn’t just the Red-tailed hawk’s eyes.
Silver Rider 577 slowly drove along the street as night was about to fall.
The air in the city, soaked in neon, crept in through the broken window, glided over the two silent "dying people."
The good man fell into self-doubt.
The rcenary lost the will to survive.
The blow to the Red-tailed hawk was heavy, and the pressure of continuous fleeing turned into substantial darkness after losing her eyes.
"Do you have any acquaintances in the city?"
John broke the silence.
The nearly frozen brain of the Red-tailed hawk began to think again.
"Yura, have you heard? Palr’s interdiary, she’s a cold on the outside, warm on the inside type... Sotis I can’t bear it, a foolish woman always helping those equally foolish guys..."
She fell into so kind of mory.
John moved his lips, closed them, then reopened them to say sothing else.
"Do you want to take you to Yura?"
"Forget it, don’t add trouble for her."
"Alright."
John ultimately didn’t tell the Red-tailed hawk—the trap with the Ghouls and the shady clinic was Yura’s idea.
"An interdiary, huh..."
"Yeah, but she’s different from other interdiaries."
"Really?"
John shook his head and smiled wryly.
"You don’t understand, she’s a good person."
Red-tailed hawk still spoke well of Yura.
"A good person... huh? Hoo—"
John let out a long sigh.
He seed to understand what Oulos wanted to tell him.
"In front of interdiaries, edge runners are such a pitiful group, just like companies exploiting the streets—both sides aren’t even in the sa class and can never reconcile."
John didn’t expect the Red-tailed hawk to understand, turned his head sideways, and asked.
"Besides Yura, is there anyone else in this city who can help you?"
"..."
This ti, the Red-tailed hawk thought for a long ti, long enough that John almost thought she had fainted from blood loss.
A familiar yet unfamiliar na erged from the back seat.
"Harbor Company."
"How did you get involved with them?"
"Hah, I’m surprised you even know the na... Harbor Company’s boss is a retired officer."
The Red-tailed hawk’s voice grew weaker.
"He has a veterans’ aid fund, not well-known, screened for those with service experience in the city a few years back, giving those with no way out a al. Helped out."
"Did you have any dealings with them after that?"
"... No, I went to work for Yura..."
This ti, the Red-tailed hawk truly fell silent.
John glanced at the passenger seat.
A bloody tal box lay there, full of two rows of anonymous cash chips laundered on the black market.
He didn’t even need to shoot; just slowing the car, the Red-tailed hawk would be dead before reaching the funeral ho on Sakura Cross Street.
John could even entrust Sugar Bean Man to collect the body, cremate it, and choose a nice spot in the suburban cetery like a sisal rope.
No one would bla anyone.
No one would even know.
John pondered over the words, hesitating—not due to money or wasted ti, but so kind of self-interrogation.
ssing with these troubleso things, making those foolish decisions...
Why is it really?
Just to prove he’s a good person?
This was the final judgnt left to John after Oulos took him around Palr, interacted with interdiaries, and saw the rcenaries’ situation in the ecological chain.
Night fell again.
The darkness was like a thin protective shell, gently covering everyone soaked in light pollution.
They could expose themselves without any burden, making every decision.
[Take the Red-tailed hawk to Harbor Company. (Optional)]
[Hand the Red-tailed hawk over to Yura. (Optional)]
[Head to Sugar Bean Man’s funeral ho. (Optional)]
[Continue waiting. (Optional)]
[Seek other options. (Optional)]
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