"F*ck, didn’t the company ss with Serum?"
"They were too busy paying hush money. Without that cage, the Eden City branch would have faced a catastrophic disaster."
Serum had a rich record of accomplishnts but wasn’t interested in fa and fortune, only dedicated to research on cyber psychosis.
She noticed that such patients often had symptoms like disorganized thoughts and intermittent mory loss, so she followed this line of thinking, trying to develop a mory editing technology.
This concept had been discussed with the Wanderer Alliance.
mbers, including Tinfoil and Gino, believed the technical difficulty and the amount of data were too imnse, making it impossible to achieve.
But according to the Baseball Bat’s investigation...
It seed Serum had indeed succeeded.
She developed a special consumable implant to help cyber psychosis patients organize their mories, allowing the hardware to relieve the brain’s pressure, ultimately bringing the out-of-control individuals back to sanity.
"Damn."
Tinfoil was a bit surprised. "This technology will change the world; is there any specific research intelligence?"
"Didn’t you think of sothing?"
The Baseball Bat snapped his fingers. "After Serum disappeared, there were reports saying she left a Pandora’s box in cyberspace, which likely contains the complete mory editing technology."
John reached out to stroke the data slot at his neck.
He felt inexplicably uncomfortable, opened his palm under the light strip, and found his head was drenched in sweat.
"What the hell..."
"Are you alright, John?"
Tinfoil noticed he looked a bit odd.
"F*ck, do you rember our last eting with Bismarck?"
John had only talked about it with Eden.
"The defecting employee from Plato, who used to drive with at Tiebang Logistics, ntioned sothing about mory confusion before he died. Is it related?"
"That matches up."
The Baseball Bat’s investigation results were not yet complete.
Both Plato and Gaia Cells had reached out to Serum, trying to collaborate on research. It seems Bismarck managed to make contact with Serum, though the details remain unclear.
The emails were hastily deleted.
This information was barely recovered.
The Baseball Bat uploaded his findings to the Wanderer Alliance and then attempted to ssage the last account that communicated with Serum.
Ten minutes later...
Plato Company’s soldiers broke in, capturing him and all the on-site docunts.
"That bastard called Bismarck, right? He forced to reveal the data residue from the terminal, asking how much I knew or if I had contacted Serum."
The Baseball Bat shivered.
"I said I just got here, intended only to steal so valuable parts to sell on the black market, and hadn’t touched anything."
"You’re quite clever."
Tinfoil chuckled twice. "He probably thought you were worthless and got frustrated, wanting to silence you. So, is the stuff really gone?"
"How could it be! I completely wiped the terminal, putting all the file information into the Wanderer Alliance’s cyberspace. You can decipher my distress signal into a data key to open the safe."
"Impressive."
Tinfoil chatted casually with the Baseball Bat for a few more monts.
She checked the public network, using a Harbor interdiary to monitor Plato’s activities.
The hovercar circled twice before completely giving up.
Bismarck probably acted secretly as losing two combat groups was already humiliating. Expanding the impact would require a reasonable explanation to the company.
This matter would end there; once Serum’s docunts successfully auctioned on the black market, no one would waste ti on soone small like the Baseball Bat.
[Escort the Baseball Bat ho. (Not accomplished)]
The auction money would later be directly transferred to John.
He naturally had to handle the final task.
The Baseball Bat looked at the Alloy RCH with drooling excitent, high-spirited on the way back to the Whistle Community, even wanting to secretly connect a data cable to experience the Eisenberg vehicle system up close.
"Do you know what happened to those corporate dogs?"
John’s tone was calm. "I blew their heads off, leaving no survivors."
"Alright, buddy, I get it, I get it..."
The rest of the journey for the Baseball Bat was completely silent.
[Eden City - Whistle Community (South District)]
This place was close to Oil Barrel Street, on the bustling edge, the densest area of Eden City’s factory clusters.
Any newly reported illegal immigrant or fresh blood trying to start from scratch on the streets gathered here.
The housing in Whistle Community was very dense.
They mainly consisted of Latin Arican or East African immigrants, with self-governing small gangs, similar to a group of Wanderers living in the city.
Only more vulnerable and isolated.
John’s motorcycle caught the attention of so local residents.
He could sense the hostility towards outsiders, so he kept the Baseball Bat at a safe distance from everyone.
John sat upright, like a motorcyclist waiting at a red light.
"Can I ask a question? You have several advanced hacker prosthetic bodies, all outrageously expensive. Network deep dive requires an ice pool, a life monitoring system, or at least a deep diving suit. Where did the money co from?"
"There are many ways to make money, network maintenance, hacking through firewalls, even ghostwriting assignnts for idiots in public schools."
The Baseball Bat spoke lightly.
John thought it was impressive; he hadn’t previously paid attention to settlents like the Whistle Community or how these kids learned cyber skills.
According to the Baseball Bat’s introduction:
Among the immigrants, there were many impressive figures, even fugitives from other cities and countries. Once they ca together, they learned and collaborated, gradually spreading a lot of kickass practical technology.
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