[Dan Street - Black Gold Gang Apartnt]
The vision gradually becos clear.
What cos into John’s view are his prosthetic limbs made of synthetic leather and tal.
"Hmm... Shit."
He wakes up alone on the chaotic bed, bearing the dizziness in his head.
It has been a long ti since he indulged himself. Reflecting on what happened last night, it felt like he was endlessly falling in ecstasy and passion, his body heating up with friction, and his consciousness drowning in desire.
At so point, all the busyness and threats of death cramd in his mind were cleared away. After the pressure release, he felt briefly, truly alive.
[Good morning, Eden City, morning news...]
The emotionless broadcast of the host ca from the TV.
[A spokesman for Plato Company announced last night that the city’s anti-terrorism exercise conducted jointly with the Eden City Police Station is nearing its end, and the crackdown on violent behavior in the city is also coming to a halt. However, Plato Company opposes accusations like impacting traffic and illegal injuries, and no response has been made regarding compensation...]
John poured himself a cup of coffee.
He operated the grid window to let the sunlight in, while his prosthetic eye started blinking, organizing the unread emails in his voicemail.
[Eden Weitz:]
[Tinfoil sent a surveillance video, you got beaten pretty badly at the Electronic Vein Bar. To be honest, yeah, it’s a bit embarrassing. You can’t go far relying only on the rigid movents of the chip, fighting and brawling are two different things. Co to the company training room when you have ti. The video didn’t capture everything, if you’re still kicking, ssage back. If the injuries are too severe, I’ll have soone pick you up to the company dical room for treatnt, it’s paid, but much cheaper than outside the black clinics.]
John pursed his lips.
He respected Eden’s evaluation of him.
Only after fighting Hoffman did he realize how powerful Eden was—training gang fighters as connected as strings, it certainly wasn’t just about chip and prosthetic body strength.
Eden is a responsible company boss.
He was quite loyal to John, even though he was just an external personnel in na, honestly, if John really got beaten to death in the streets, it wouldn’t concern Harbor at all.
But he was willing to give him a hand.
John was also grateful.
[Subtask: Fighting Path]
[Reward: lee Chip (Unknown)]
[Mission Objective Update:]
[Complete training through Harbor Company. (Unachieved)]
John finished reading the mission information.
Before leaving, he had to gather his equipnt, taking out the Single-Molecule Samurai Sword first, cleaned the remaining blood stains, and did a simple maintenance.
The dark blue blade returned to its sheath.
The jet-black alloy grip.
John hung it in the middle of the pegboard, creating a sense of fine weapon collection under the light strip.
The custom knife from Raqi Industry was certainly good.
But to really play its role, you’d need a complete system of prosthetic body—a powerful muscle bundle, subcutaneous armor, titanium skeleton, special operating system, and neural conductor, etc.
John checked the price of the corresponding prosthetic body.
Forcing it together, he could co up with one.
But as Macao said, if he has to upgrade equipnt, he doesn’t want to cut open his body over and over for cheap stuff.
Suddenly received a call while pondering.
[Unknown Contact]
A window popped up in the upper left corner of John’s vision.
In the screen was a girl with straw-textured hair in a jacket, laughing with her arms crossed.
[Oh heavens, it really is your number.]
"Am I caught in a drinking ga?"
John sipped his coffee.
[I’m from Damascus Camp, recently in a bit of trouble, but Alonna hasn’t returned yet, so I thought of you.]
"Nando hasn’t called ."
[He’s busy bickering with soone, his feet don’t touch the ground, no ti for small troubles like this. You’re quite cautious, aren’t you? Burned by city folks? Don’t worry, I’m not a phone sex scam, co to the camp, it will be clarified for you.]
John expressed his helplessness.
"At least give a hint first, if I can’t help, no need to leave the city."
The girl looked straightforward.
[Want to fight with Exile, huh? Ironfoot Kelp’s gotten too arrogant lately, taking our resources with his pups. If we succeed, you can have first pick of the spoils!]
"Alright, now I’m interested."
[That’s the spirit. Bring your supercar, they praised your driving skills to the skies last ti I wasn’t ho, let see for myself.]
"I have no objections, at least tell your na, who do I look for when I arrive?"
[Crap, my pig brain, Talia, ntion and it will work, I got your number from drinking with Screwdriver, don’t block it, or I’d lose out big ti!]
The video call ended.
[Task: Crispy on the Outside, Soft Inside]
[Reward: Renuration, Subcutaneous Armor (Plato)]
John raised an eyebrow.
The mission reward tempted him, subcutaneous armor was indeed more important than a fighting chip, so the Harbor training had to be put on hold.
John took the smart rifle from the weapon rack and packed several electromagnetic magazines into his bag.
He left the apartnt, passing through the elevated levels.
Jilead was sitting in the usual spot.
"Had a good ti? There are many good-looking girls on Dan Street, if you’re still hungry for company, I have a few good contacts, you know... after all, can’t treat yourself badly after taking down soone like Hoffman."
"Next ti."
"Alright, get busy then."
Jilead fist-bumped him as a greeting, crossing his arms and continuing his watch at the apartnt entrance, in case he got bored and did a set on the bench press.
The Silver Rider had been repaired.
John drove out of the basent.
The roar of the supercar expanded.
From the crowded inner loop to the suburban road, the scenery outside the window kept changing.
After Plato’s nonsense ended, the city checkpoints were back to being a re formality, without a company involved, a scan would pass you through, even if you really had contraband, slipping a funds card in the prosecutor’s office could let you through.
Vroom—
John revved the throttle, tuned the radio to a nostalgic channel, cranked up the volu, with familiar loess and drought-resistant plants sliding past the window.
This route was getting familiar.
[Eden City - Damascus Camp]
John’s Silver Rider 577 was highly recognizable.
But the sentry at the gate still followed procedures, guiding him to the checkpoint, tapping on the window and handing over a pack of traditional cigarettes.
"Hey, John, try so Cuban stuff."
"Thanks, buddy."
"Phew~ Alonna hasn’t returned yet, just go straight along the tents and you’ll find Nando, is there a big event today, do you need a tent for the night?"
"Talia said there’s work for ."
"Ah, that woman definitely wants you to brawl, hope you brought a gun. And by the way, Screwdriver recently got a cargo pickup truck, modified it to be like a presidential suite."
"Not bad, I’d like to see it. Wait a second, these are Golden Apple cigarettes, you guys been hustling on the side?"
"Legit business, hahaha."
The sentinel chuckled and pulled up his breathing valve, wearing a bulletproof tactical vest and insulated gloves, holding an extended sniper rifle.
Data stream flashed across his sunglasses.
The isolation posts of the checkpoint sank into the ground, revealing a passage.
"Talia’s behind the base station, the biggest tractor is hers, if no one’s in the driver’s seat, knock on the iron box next to it, she’s probably sleeping off a hangover."
The sentinel pointed John in the right direction.
The inside of the camp was bustling like a construction site, the number of tents and RVs had surged, giving it a feeling like they were building a small town.
The sound of Eisenberg’s supercar drew everyone’s attention, many turned their heads under the canopy in the camp.
John grabbed his bag and left the parking area.
He pulled up his sandstorm scarf, lifting his chin, seeing a huge yellow crane arm behind the camp base station stretching into the sky.
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