Chapter 359: Chapter 200: Evening in Eden City

If he didn’t show a strong attitude, he might become one of the silenced.

The warehouse’s rolling shutter slowly closed.

The sound of a speedboat starting could be heard through the walls.

John lingered for a moment, returned to his car, and finally realized Angelica had left the city.

Click.

He lit a traditional cigarette, leaned against the hood of the Silver Rider 577, and admired the slightly fishy sunset by the dock.

Nicotine left no spicy taste on his lips; the familiar stimulation when it used to pass through the lungs was now quite bland, as if the body had already died.

This colorful Dream Chasing City was dim before dusk.

Skyscrapers and public facilities were all gray and white, with hard edges defining each building and staircase.

The sea was thick like mercury.

The sunset had an unreal haze.

This feeling was like watching the drink ad inside a vending machine through glass. The diluted orange-yellow, pressed by incandescent lights, didn’t seem bright enough.

The half-smoked cigarette was not finished.

The skyscraper in Chengxin Square started glowing, and because the sky hadn’t turned completely dark, the exaggerated brightness made it hard to see the colorful ads, making the whole building resemble a tube light in the middle of the city.

Then more and more windows lit up.

Dense white dots, like arranged combinations of solder joints on a metal circuit.

[Task: Godfather’s Dinner (Completed)]

[Reward: Bounty [Longchuan Ze], Bounty [Camper], Part of payment [Vito Russell], Martyr GTX [In Use], Eisenberg-Silver Rider 577 [Modified].]

John smoked the tasteless cigarette, scanned over the settlement list.

He noticed a strange item called “Martyr,” pondered for a moment, then flipped his wrist— the green life countdown was still ongoing.

[Contact-Gino [Unread Message]]

[The matter you mentioned has been settled, hurry up, time is pressing!]

John flicked away the cigarette butt.

The crumbling sparks stumbled down the dock, submerged by the dark water.

They vanished with a sizzle.

The Silver Rider 577 sped through the city streets.

Night fell within the streaming taillights of the supercar, and the curtain walls of skyscrapers were invaded by neon, becoming splendid bit by bit.

Huge currents flowed into every corner of the city like blood plasma mixed with stimulant.

[Eden City-Dan Street]

The West District seemed to return to prosperity under the joint governance of the two Godfathers.

Street enthusiasts of Kitschism appeared again, and young people with illuminated tubes beneath their skin reclaimed every graffiti-covered corner.

The sound waves from the Silver Rider 577 caught considerable attention.

Someone whistled.

Someone paused to express envy.

Someone gave John the middle finger.

…

The fierce cool guys and deep-V dressed hot girls were all showcasing their personalities in this neon-lit nightlife.

Bang, da-da-da-da!

A crashing sound came from a distant street corner.

A member of the Owl Town gang, wearing a leather jacket, stumbled out of an alley, just after knocking over roadside debris, was immediately killed by a pursuing Black Gold Gang thug.

The gunfire continued, albeit from much farther away.

It turns out gang warfare was still spreading across the streets of the West District, except the civilians had grown more accepting, and even onlookers gathered, with daring young kids reaching into the dead’s pocket to prove courage.

John leaned against the car window, watching the entire process.

He elevated his gaze along the swirling holographic projection:

The Skyscraper Factory in the distance resembled a prison silently standing in the dark, without colorful vibrance, just monotonous rows of red lights flashing, reminding that Dream Chasing City had another group of people.

They hid within the skyscrapers and lined factories, becoming part of the city’s blood, indistinguishable from current, sludge, and coolant, all commodities measurable by price.

Beep—

The vehicle trailing the Silver Rider 577 finally mustered the courage to honk.

John withdrew his arm from the car window, turned the steering wheel, and slid into Bolago Club.

Gang patrol patterns had resumed.

He parked the car, crossed the familiar underground passage, and saw armed gang members wandering at the intersection.

Their faces were unfamiliar, and their attitudes unfriendly.

The power system of Bolago’s basement mall was damaged in an explosion half a month ago.

Some ceiling floodlights weren’t reinstalled.

The scene was somewhat dim.

It currently relied entirely on shop signs and temporary supplemental mobile cables for visibility.

This hazy environment reminded John of the underground mall in the East District. The sense of ambiguity stirred desires, providing solace to young people and empty citizens.

The foot traffic was even greater than the incidents.

A vast array of neon lights and flickering pupils swayed among the crowd.

Some regulars from the West District had already noticed John’s presence—familiar waterproof work jacket, short hair, high nose bridge.

The shopkeepers in the mall all greeted him.

They chatted with the famous mercenary about Angelica’s condition and the terrifying explosion half a month ago.

[Reputation on West District streets increased, new black market items unlocked.]

The commotion caused by John was significant, and within half a month, rumors had spread and fermented enough.

Vendors liked to hide good things when stocking up, specifically selling to the talk-of-the-town figures on the street—to build good relations and more easily increase notoriety.

“Come and take a look, brother.”

“New clothes, high-quality military boots, refurbished special operations team uniforms, shh, keep it quiet, it’s not easy to get hold of such a set!”

“Fresh hairstyle, definitely cool, even if you’re bald, just mess with your scalp for five minutes and it’s done. I guarantee it hasn’t appeared on the streets. Want to become a legend, we need something iconic…”

“New claw knife, punch ring set, you can even hide a knife in your toenail. If you order now, I’ll throw in a badass Fighting Chip set, how about it?”

If it weren’t for the time-sensitive meeting with Gino, John would have been quite interested.

During their brief delay, some members of the Black Gold Gang also gathered nearby, all of whom were familiar faces from before, even regulars at Tipsy Bikini, yet no one stepped forward to greet him.

John’s relationship with the Black Gold Gang had fractured.

He bade farewell to the shopkeepers and, under the harsh gaze of the bar’s security, walked into the Bandage Boxing Gym opposite.

Macao was sternly instructing a boxer.

John didn’t disturb him, skillfully opened the back door, and climbed the stairs along the mall’s delivery passage.

Gino’s tool room was hidden right above the gym.

John knocked lightly on the door.

The electronic lock turned from red to green, but no one responded.

When John pushed the door open, he noticed a thin layer of condensation on the iron surface.

The air conditioning temperature inside the room was very low.

Without speaking, he first observed through the gap and then, gripping his gun, pushed the door open entirely.

Gino lay in the deep dive chair.

A high-level cyber hacker of the Cyber Era could connect self-awareness to the network (cyberspace) through devices, conduct network operations from a three-dimensional perspective, and carry out more detailed and challenging hacking operations.

As John approached, he saw that Gino’s forehead was drenched in sweat.

The surrounding equipment was very hot, the cooling system operating at full power, seemingly under stress it wasn’t designed for.

Gino was a highly talented hacker or rather an inventor.

At least that’s what John thought.

Her modified EMP Emitter could pierce through the company’s firewall, stopping drones without triggering network tracking.

But with profit came risk.

Gino’s attempt then almost cost her her life.

If Mr. Vito hadn’t intervened, and John hadn’t taken the mission risking using Black Light, she would have been disposed of by the Ghouls in some corner of the city.

So Gino always kept a low profile, and her financial situation naturally couldn’t compare to those daring hackers.

With financial strain, the equipment could only be makeshift.

Bang!

Black smoke billowed from the electrical box in the room’s corner.

Half of the light strips went off.

John released his hands, thinking he might have accidentally triggered something lethal.

“Gino! I told you before…”

Macao’s roar came through the ceiling.

The lights in the boxing gym were definitely hit.

“Stop yelling, I can fix it!”

Gino responded while tearing off the Stealth Suit and getting up, revealing her chest emitting white smoke.

She unceremoniously grabbed a tool and quickly fixed the power issue, acting as if she hadn’t seen John.

“Uh, I…”

“Wait a minute, John, did you drive here?”

Gino interrupted, turning around and bursting into the bathroom, splashing a basin of cold water over her head, and quickly ditching the Stealth Suit for the pre-prepared clothes.

She was both disheveled and excited.

“Quick, quick, let’s talk while we move!”

“Did you get in touch with the Serum?”

“No, we have an organization called the Wanderer Alliance, remember? A bastard named Sisal Rope definitely knows where the boss is. I finally found some clues in cyberspace, let’s grab him!”

Gino finished speaking in a single breath, gulped down a bottle of water.

John, infected by her excitement, jogged back to the car, and the familiar engine roar once again ignited the Bolago Club’s garage.

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