Feiyun Port. Feng Xue was controlling a character that had cost 30 points to make, one he had farmed using the quick-withdrawal bug on the Black Fist Battlefield card, to scout the place out.
He had actually considered whipping up a stand-in to self-destruct, then having the real John harvest the results remotely, but in the end he gave up on the idea. It was not because he was reluctant to spend the cost of a stand-in, but because of the stand-in’s character setup.
John, as a character, was a lone wolf who had fought his way out of the Junk District. That identity brought him many conveniences, and even certain outrageous actions would seem reasonable when placed upon such a background.
But if a stand-in blew himself up first, then whether people believed he had backing, belonged to an organization, or exposed an ability to split himself into doubles, it would make his actions against the Haitie Society seem far less simple.
The reason he had brought in black-market forces, aside from diverting Carlos’s attention, was also to shift the blame, making the people behind the Haitie Society see John as cannon fodder hired at great expense by the black-market forces, thereby reducing the attention on himself.
Once John’s behavior was no longer simple, then his actions against the Haitie Society would become a clue.
He did not think the big shots of the Tower District were the sort of people who cared about evidence. When the time came, as long as they investigated, the fact that Theodore had once killed a cybernetic doctor in the Junk District would absolutely be impossible to hide. At that point, as the disciple of Old Jiang, he would immediately become a suspect. Never mind saying Theodore had killed more than one person in the Junk District—once there was suspicion, Feng Xue would not be surprised if the other party directly swept the entire Rust District clean.
If the higher-ups had some kind of black technology that could trace the source energy of flesh and blood, then he would probably have no choice but to wander the wilderness—
He was not so arrogant as to think that having a five-star cybernetic body meant he could contend with the big shots of the Tower District.
By comparison, even if John really was lost, it would only be two hundred thousand. To Feng Xue, who still had six million in liquid funds on hand, that was drizzle.
……
“Old Port District, Third Warehouse… This should be the place.”
Turning a corner, Feng Xue looked at the bar that was neither luxurious nor lively. Just listening to the ghostly howls coming from inside made him not want to go near.
The Old Port District was the smuggling hub of Saint Lothan City, swallowing and spitting out vast amounts of goods every day. As for why the higher-ups did not care… What a joke. Who did you think owned the smuggling business?
Why did the Ge Union set such high tariffs on Dayan’s three-star cybernetics? Wasn’t it precisely to rake in benefits through smuggling?
The authorities? What were the authorities worth? In capitalism, the capitalists were the masters!
Of course, the official rhetoric was that, through this method, they were squeezing Dayan’s industrial potential. By means of massive orders, they forced them to consume more resources on low-grade cybernetics, thereby reducing their war potential.
As for whether it worked?
Who knew?
In any case, the Ge Union claimed it had won hard.
Temporarily suppressing his resentment over the high tariffs, Feng Xue gazed toward the bar named Wildfire and activated his skill through the character—
“If John comes here, will he be ambushed?”
Compared with Abomination’s strict requirements of range and direct visual observation, True Stare’s activation conditions were undoubtedly much looser. As long as he could see the target, even through a screen, he could select the subject.
And as the skill triggered, the voice representing the response echoed in his mind—
“Yes!”
“As expected.” Feng Xue was not surprised at all by this result. He merely fine-tuned the body’s details a little, making it look more like a local laborer, before swaying his way toward Wildfire Bar. But before he had taken more than a few steps, a bald thug with large floral tattoos covering his arms and a metal skull tattooed on his forehead blocked his path. With a light shove, the cheap body nearly stumbled and fell—
“The place is booked today. If you don’t want to die, piss off!”
The bald man issued a vicious threat. Feng Xue immediately shifted a few steps back, while True Stare also completed its lock on the target—
“Has Theodore arrived?”
“Yes!”
Controlling the character to flee in a fluster, Feng Xue’s gaze was exceptionally cold. Yet just as the character reached the corner, a large hand reached out and snapped his neck in one motion. At the same time, the ears that had not yet completely lost function under the influence of flesh source energy received the final sounds—
“Wouldn’t it be fine to just kill him straight away? Why let him get so far?”
“How do you know that John isn’t secretly watching? It has to be in a corner like this to make a move! All right, hurry up and dispose of him!”
……
“All right, that’s quite a big move.” Feng Xue raised his eyebrows. If nothing unexpected happened, then all the laborers visible around Wildfire Bar had probably already been replaced by the Haitie Society. With such a formation, after today, they would likely have no shortage of explaining to do to the other gangs.
Although he grumbled inwardly, Feng Xue still quickly mobilized the strongest combat force in his hands—Kong Wu.
Though unless it was absolutely necessary, he did not plan to expose his other characters, if Carlos really did show up, he would not mind giving him an EX throw.
John, who had long since entered the Old Port District, had already climbed atop a tower crane using Mirage, confirming from above the information of every human who entered his field of vision.
“They really didn’t leave a single one? And their acting is even pretty decent. They must have undergone fairly intensive crash training. If I hadn’t fired off a True Stare at each of you, you really would have fooled me.”
John entered every confirmed target into his terminal, and the source energy within him also began to surge. Following his movements, the rather chuunibyou-styled metal belt at his waist began to break apart, turning into palm-sized drones that silently rose into the air. In this dim “abandoned” airport, almost no one could detect them.
“About enough.”
Seeing that Mirage had finished cooling down, John stretched out his hand. A force-field arm grabbed hold of a platform over ten meters away, and after a few back-and-forth motions, he had already landed on the ground. He took out a pair of AR glasses and put them on. As the connection linked into his brain-machine interface, his field of vision immediately changed.
Under the effect of Caijian, an action that should have reduced durability with each activation merely made his muscles warm slightly. Along with the leaps of his thoughts, red dots began flashing one after another on the glasses—enemy targets locked on through the drones.
“As expected, direct neural connection still gives the fastest feedback.”
While deploying the drones, John walked toward Warehouse Three as if no one else were present. He brushed past one beast of burden after another, yet seemed completely unaware that they were members of the Haitie Society.
“Mr. John, you’re late.”
As Wildfire Bar once again came into view, a somewhat cold voice rang out, though if one listened carefully, there was a slight tremor in it. John ignored the small leader in charge of giving him an initial show of force and kicked open the bar’s front door.
“Where’s that Theodore or whatever? Didn’t he want to talk to me? Where is he?”
Swish!
Whether because of the door-kicking motion or because of those utterly impolite words, almost everyone in the bar turned their eyes toward John at the same time. He paid it no mind, only sweeping his gaze around before focusing his attention on a well-dressed man—
“I know you. Edwin…”
“To be known by Mr. John is my…”
“Worth fifty-four thousand points!”
Edwin’s pleasantry instantly stuck in his throat, but John had the complete appearance of someone who had no intention of communicating properly. In a few steps, he arrived at the center of the bar and said in a tone that begged to be punched—
“Where’s your young master?”
“Clap, clap, clap…”
Crisp applause came from a corner. Theodore, whose looks were decent enough, walked out surrounded by several bodyguards dressed like Men in Black agents. As he clapped, he spoke in a condescending tone:
“You…”
“Bang!”
So, uh, for those asking why Iron Mask has high-end cybernetics…
Krenzikov is high-end, yes, but it’s only four-star. It’s something that can be bought in a shop. The Haitie Society’s position is equivalent to a mafia in reality that controls the gray-market business of one ninth of Los Angeles, and also has congressional and conglomerate backing. As a cadre, and a combat-type cadre at that, why wouldn’t Iron Mask have it?
For those at the bottom, a million credits is indeed money they could never earn in a lifetime. But for people like that, while you can’t say it’s worthless, isn’t having such equipment only natural?
If I said every member of the gendarmerie had a Sandevistan, would people also say the system collapsed?
A single purple mood of a Tower District big shot is a five-star toy starting at a million. That was a setting from the very beginning, all right.