My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 151: Wanderer and Lone Wolf
The seller who led the transaction was a Middle Eastern man wearing a silver suit and with prominent facial features that were not concealed.

In subsequent photos, John and Olaus found a bald woman with tattoos on the corners of her eyes who was suspected to be a hacker.

Their facial scans came back empty.

John's brows gradually furrowed - Blacklight had stuffed a lot of files into his artificial eye's database. If he couldn't even find a name, it meant that they no longer existed in a sense.

"At least we know their faces, um... part of them. I will release the news to various companies and let those panicked corporate dogs check it out. Haha, with so many companies and resources, they will always find something."

Olos turned over the ceramic pipe. There was no open flame, only a flashing indicator light. After a moment, a light fruity smoke came out.

"The big guys will take action, and they certainly don't want the next thing like the roaming AI matrix to explode under their buttocks."

There is no point in fumbling around blindly or panicking, just leave the problem to someone with more time and resources.

Then wait quietly.

The roaming AI caused heavy damage to the Faqi Group and the Xiaomachi Gang. In addition, the death of the congressman would definitely lead to chaos in the city. Although Du Raymond was killed by John, it was ultimately a commission from Bone Crusher. Whoever paid the mercenaries would have to take responsibility.

The Black Gold Gang did not back down.

Bone slag did not pass on the blame.

It was not John's turn to be the victim.

John heaved a sigh of relief after listening to the analysis. After calming down, he could clearly feel a slight pain in his heart - the irregular work and rest schedule and the constant escape took a huge toll on his body, and the side effects of overclocking Sianwestin began to show.

"Nando will be back soon, and my work on Silver Harbor will be finished... Darling, this also means your vacation is over. Get ready to work for me and pay off your debt."

Olaus put on her silver-framed glasses again, covering her pupils that were always flashing with data streams. She was as delicate as a high-end doll that was embarrassing to behold.

John frowned and looked away, suppressing his inexplicable fantasies.

Olos changed the subject.

"Of course, not now. I have to take advantage of the chaos to get into the company's upper echelons. I'll contact you when I need you."

She opened the tent, picked up her equipment and went out.

John followed behind carrying the metal box, passing through the yellow sand, metal road cones, and busy wanderers, and came to the open space where large vehicles were parked.

The black business car stayed quietly in the shadows, with its side door raised high, revealing the burgundy interior, and Maya sitting in the back seat like a hostage.

Oros's purpose this time was to finish off the Wanderers and copy away the data containing transaction records and secrets of the Rift Party.

She patted the data drive.

"Logically, you owe me this, but I don't want to waste our friendship on such a trivial matter..."

"so?"

"Let me show you a demonstration."

Oros raised her chin slightly from a distance of more than ten meters, her eyes fixed on Maya, and taught John how to use resources to survive safely in Eden City.

John listened carefully.

Until the black business sedan drove out of the homeless camp.

He couldn't leave for the time being because the car was still being repaired and there was nothing urgent at the moment, so he simply found a warehouse where food was stored to sleep, using cooling equipment to fight the scorching sun.

I don’t know how much time had passed, but my dreamless light sleep was awakened by a violent dry heave.

"…Ugh~ huh, fuck."

John finally accepted the fact that there was something wrong with his body, and it was definitely not as simple as over-stimulation from drugs.

He took out the special inhibitor from the interlayer of his work jacket. When he fumbled for the slot, a thin layer of sweat touched his neck. He controlled his trembling hands and put the thing in steadily. There was a barely audible click and a faint smell of burnt hardware...

Warmth and comfort spread throughout John's body.

He breathed a sigh of relief, wiped away his physiological tears, and saw the black moisture-proof floor with a few drops of saliva and sweat mixture on it.

A figure flashed past the door.

"Wow, hey!"

John turned his head in surprise, feeling a sense of horror as if his secret had been discovered. He fixed his sight and saw a girl in a linen T-shirt standing at the door.

“…Ah, it’s you.”

This is a social orphan who was sent to the Damascus camp by John and temporarily adopted by Joe. She had a father who was a gambler and human trafficker, who was killed by John himself during the mission and stuffed into an oil barrel.

The wanderers were very nice to the children. At least they provided them with food and clothing and some traditional education.

"Um, hey, why are you here?"

John tried to greet her but got no response.

Her childhood has influenced her personality, and currently she is only willing to talk to a few people, including Joe.

"Okay... you look much better, but it's not enough. Don't be shy about eating... Nando and the others are so fat..."

John squatted in front of her and muttered.

Still no response, only a pair of calm, unmodified original pupils looking back at him.

John was thinking:

How to ease the embarrassment, or when to take her to see Joe or someone else...

The girl took a candy out of her pocket and handed it to John.

John couldn't understand what the child was thinking. He squatted there, watching her walk away slowly, then lowered his head to stroke and observe her.

This is an industrial hard candy with trace amounts of stimulants.

The oil-absorbing candy wrapper is sticky, and the oval trademark is slightly blurry, but you can vaguely see words such as "dream" and "delicious".

When John beat that bastard to death in the Black Gold Gang's casino, he grabbed a handful of food from the glass bowl at the front desk and gave it to the girl. What did it mean that she gave the food back to him?

do not like to eat?

"Ok."

John put it in his pocket and opened the tent curtain, only to find that he had slept for a long time.

Night has fallen.

The mobile light source enveloped the camp again.

Several military off-road vehicles were propped up and placed on an open space. The barbecue grills converted from abandoned vehicles were sizzling with oil, and there were some Mexican tortillas and synthetic meat on them.

There were many homeless people gathered around with beer in their hands.

They were discussing a military off-road vehicle in the center of the venue, occasionally pointing under the raised hood, offering different modification ideas and configuration comparisons.

Suddenly there was a roar like that of a wild beast.

The dust was rolled up by the tires and covered the lampshade, and the surrounding wanderers suddenly burst into cheers.

"Ha, what a hot bitch, I knew you could be even better!"

The screwdriver slid out from under the car.

He clapped his greasy palms, took the beer from someone else, and slowly backed away amid the roar, with an expression of great enjoyment.

John's knowledge of vehicles goes beyond driving techniques.

In fact, even if you are a layman, without turning on the scan, just seeing the pleasing metal shell and the titanium logo on the surface of the accessories and listening to the exciting sound waves will make you feel envious and your legs go weak.

Ranger La John joins the discussion.

He took the opportunity to put his hand on the hood, leaned over, and observed the details obscured by the accessories. It was as if his fingers were stroking silky soft artificial leather.

"Damn it."

"What a beauty."

"I'm willing to help you adjust the coefficients."

…The screwdriver received praise and responded to the teasing of people around him. After he was satisfied, he put down the bottle of wine and asked John to leave.

They crossed the parking lot, away from the bustling crowd, and returned to the large workshop dedicated to modification and maintenance under the watchful eyes of another wave of wanderers and sentinels who were enjoying the quiet night.

puff-

The metal sliding door slowly opened, the pressure relief valve gushed out white waves, purple-blue lights and rock music came out, and the smell of chemical raw materials floated in the air.

Jurassic ZT15 has completed repairs and maintenance.

This car was originally given to John by the Wanderer. The camp seized a large number of high-end original cars and original accessories in the battles of Silver Port and the scrapyard, so they can be used directly.

Screwdriver swayed his steps to the music, kicked away the thick fog, pushed aside the mechanical arm, picked up the electronic respirator and took a deep breath. His face suddenly had a mixture of sobriety and intoxication.

They gathered around the painted armored vehicle to inspect it.

"Ah, John, I know you are an expert. I won't bother to talk about basic repairs and armor refills. They are all small things. You can find any repair shop in Eden City to do it... Focus on the rear of the car."

John noticed that the new trunk lid was thicker and heavier than the original one.

The screwdriver made a dull and reassuring sound when it touched my hand.

"I believe you can drive faster than others, so the rear of your car must be very durable. Here, it's made of explosion-proof alloy interlayer. Isaac Military's tanks also use this material. You can't penetrate it without something hard. Let your enemies eat their ass."

The cover slowly rose.

The new seats are also black and gray leather, the same as the original ones, exuding a high-end and luxurious feel.

puff-

The electric valve lifts automatically.

The entire trunk space was redesigned and turned into a makeshift arsenal.

There are card slots with just the right capacity hollowed out of a solid plastic material, and Hercules fits perfectly into them, like a sample that an arms dealer shows to his customers.

The light blue hidden light strips light up at the same time, giving the metal surface a serious sheen.

Hercules' exclusive magazine is embedded next to it.

John took one off and saw the hidden magnetic block inside the groove. He lowered his head and turned over the heavy magazine, and found that it was full of electromagnetic incendiary bombs made by a professional arms company.

"Fuck, luxury is so much better than those cheap things I made by hand, which makes me reluctant to use them. If mercenaries are spoiled, it will be difficult to lower their consumption level."

John leaned his hands on the front of the trunk, his eyes following the breathing light.

Screwdriver shrugged and shook his head, then tapped the armor block with his fingers bent.

"You deserve it, buddy. If we hadn't met you, we wouldn't even have had the chance to collect Simon's body. Now the camp's warehouses are filled with luxury cars, and there are more bullets and weapons than we can use up. There's not even an exile in the wilderness to cause a conflict, so we can only shoot at targets with scrap electrical appliances and cacti... But life is pretty comfortable."

John raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"Is there something in the words?"

"...Join us. Nando must have mentioned it to you. Now is the right time. We can become brothers in the true sense of the word."

Screwdriver leaned against the operating table, raised his arm and enjoyed his e-cigarette, and mentioned a mundane matter as if he was chatting casually, but his peripheral vision was always paying attention to John's reaction intentionally or unintentionally. When he saw him calmly wave his hand over the sensor block to let the trunk lid slowly close, he knew - this matter was hopeless.

John smiled, turned around and bumped his fist with the screwdriver, walked back to the driver's seat, lowered the window, and frowned.

He hesitated for a moment, then said with relief.

"I don't know what it means for a lone wolf to have a family, but I get creepy thinking about it... I'm not ready yet, but it won't change my relationship with Damascus."

He stretched out his hand and shook hands with the screwdriver, closing the distance, and gently touched their forearms to say hello silently.

The Jurassic ZT15 roared with an echo, passed through the parking lot covered by yellow sand and successfully passed the sentry post, turned the arc and returned to the main road in the suburbs...

The spotlights create a small city in the wind.

The wanderers soaked in the night with food and drinks, cherishing this rare tranquility and harvest, and not forgetting their companions who paid for it and sacrificed in the war.

This ritual is general and comprehensive.

Family is like a magical umbrella.

It can share the reality and surface grief of the soul, but the deeper sadness and individual thoughts seem particularly insignificant in front of the barrier called "the big picture."

As long as the behemoth "family" keeps moving forward, the wanderers will never stop.

They were protected, but also coerced.

Talia sat outside the campfire, letting her thoughts wander, with two drunken burly men lying next to her.

She was wearing a gray vest hanging down and her elbows were resting on the metal table.

The vodka in the tin can had deep condensation marks.

She heard the sound of thick explosion-proof tires crunching gravel, and noticed the lights flashing in the sentry tower out of the corner of her eye.

Someone left the front door.

Talia lay on the hard boulder that was still hot and raised her head in the direction of the sound.

She saw the dark blue night and the brown and yellow wasteland turn.

The armored vehicle was heading just right, speeding along the suburban road, its red taillights gradually becoming as blurry as the arc of the hills at night.

[Eden City-Bypass]

Neon shadows slid across the windshield.

The driver's seat was quiet and cool, isolated from the cluttered advertisements and the sirens that were approaching from afar. The rose-blue ambient light and vehicle data projection were reflected on John's cheek.

He silently adjusted his sight and looked behind him.

A burning Carlomon truck passed him, followed by whistling bullets and sirens, a hovercraft hovered overhead, and Molotov cocktails fell one after another after dozens of meters.

The flames bounced off the guardrails and the hull of the car.

John maintained his speed, switched to the viaduct, and deliberately stuck to the fence to overlook the chase below.

He identified the city's gang members by the markings on their trucks.

This group of speeding enthusiasts were forced into a checkpoint by the police. A row of hidden spikes suddenly popped up, causing the car to lose control and crash into an alloy pile. The farce ended with a sudden brake and a loud explosion.

The chase between the cops and gang members came to an end.

John's prosthetic eye flickered, he retracted his gaze, and waved his hand to switch the air conditioner to internal circulation and filtering mode - the city was filled with a burning smell, as if those colorful and exaggerated billboards were set on fire, and the lights, stimulated by criminals, turned into magma flowing throughout the city.

He switched the station and listened to the news.

The chase that had just taken place was now taking place on several streets, and there were even large-scale gun battles in factory areas and important commercial streets.

Police and gang members exchanged fire using burning cars as cover.

The streets were littered with glass and rubble.

The Sakura Cross Street Club incident continued to ferment, and various government and private units' floating vehicles shuttled under the cover of night. Led by the Owl Town Gang and the Black Gold Gang, they brought large-scale conflicts to the streets.

The whole city was caught in a crime spree.

Rumbling--

The black light in John's brain suddenly received an access signal, indicating that a municipal unit was conducting road control and the cross-district checkpoint in Eden City would undergo emergency maintenance and be closed.

The private car will return in one hour.

John acquiesced to the authority to operate, lowered his body close to the steering wheel, and raised his eyes to the sky.

The tall buildings are outlined and filled with lights.

The Special Operations Team's combat hovercraft passed through the streets in a high-profile manner. Its vector engine had amazing power, and there were circles of blue light at the ends of the four cones of flames.

John watched it cross the street.

High-altitude beacons attached to the sides of tall buildings flashed, and curfew notices continued to be pushed and circulated between screens and vehicles on the road.

(End of this chapter)