This is at the intersection of Sakura Cross Street.

Barry's the one in charge.

The team members inside the vehicle skillfully pull out evidence bags, separating the looted luxury goods and cash.

The entire operation is clearly divided.

Barry is responsible for organizing the team, and no one questions John's identity; the others swiftly tidy things up.

He sits silently in the back holding a gun.

[Eden City-North Lan Avenue, Block B, No. 31]

Location information pops up in John's view, and the passengers in the rear carriage sway with inertia before standing up and file out.

He follows the team off the vehicle onto the ground.

This is the dismantling workshop of a large warehouse.

Suited vehicle suppliers pick up champagne and walk towards Barry, talking to each other before clinking glasses, seemingly earning another sum.

This freight truck is worth tens of thousands of euros.

"Hey, brother."

Someone in the team pats John's shoulder and then packs the used guns and masks into burlap sacks.

After waiting a few minutes, John is taken to the back door of the car factory.

Several washed police cars and jeeps are parked in front of him, and the team dissolves into several groups on the spot.

Some put on police uniforms, sounded the sirens, and drove onto the city highway.

Some dressed casually, enjoying a holiday like ordinary citizens.

Barry changed back into the standard ECPD uniform, just with some extra tactical gear, as if ready to welcome a gunfight at any time.

John has never ridden in a police car.

The interior and seats are very bad, the sweat stench, and poor-quality leather make it hard to keep one's eyes open.

Barry very skillfully puts on sunglasses.

The weather is somewhat hot.

The air conditioner power is quite good, probably specially maintained while parked at the dismantling plant.

The police car drives across the inter-district bridge.

Barry calmly controls the steering wheel, occasionally talking with John; both are not the type to engage in heated conversations with the same gender.

The next stop is the slums.

The officials prefer to call it "such-and-such community," but it's actually the most affordable housing for ordinary citizens in the industrial zone.

The alleyway is very narrow.

Both sides of the walls are covered in graffiti, even during the day, the sun can't penetrate the buildings to project into the dark alleyway.

The concrete cover plates underfoot are loose.

Small shop advertisements in various styles are projected.

Countless slightly tired eyes look toward this place, people either lying or standing under the shadow of pink neon lights.

Thin bones all covered with tattoos.

This is a gathering place, half Asian and half other races, with people sitting in arcade halls cursing, and pipes spewing nauseating fumes.

Barry has John pull out an unmarked bag from the back seat.

When he bends over into the car, he sees the loot from the robbery is mostly piled up on the seats.

[Sakura Cross Street-Deep Well Apartment [Group Renting Area]]

John and Barry walk through stairs and corridors.

The ECPD uniforms can avoid gang attacks.

The sound insulation between apartment floors is extremely poor.

Barry knocks on one of the room doors, waits for the other party to speak, then squeezes in using his size advantage aggressively.

There's only women and children in the room.

The cheap apartment is internally divided into several small single rooms, several families live together in one suite.

Barry throws the cash-filled bag onto the table.

He starts speaking to the people around, his tone not friendly, seemingly with obvious warning meaning.

John stands against the wall at the door keeping watch.

Gang members and other visitors stick their heads in to watch, during the commotion also commenting on how unlucky this household is.

Cursing from inside the room suddenly grows louder.

John tilts his ear, seemingly hearing Barry angrily scolding, yelling at them to stop there, not to cause trouble with the municipalities and gangs, even firing a shot before leaving.

Bam!

"WTF?"

John hurriedly pushes the door open.

He sees women clutching their children, nodding with gritted teeth, while the money bag has been hidden deep inside the bedroom.

Barry turns around, frowning at John, gesturing with his eyes for him to leave together to speak later.

They return to the parking lot.

Barry raises a kinetic handgun, aims at the sky, and pulls the trigger, the huge noise echoing in the narrow alley.

A group of thugs bolt from beside the police car.

They have cheap implants, wear faded hoodies, the stolen tools fall to the ground, pieced together temporarily from street materials making inferior products.

Barry only gets in the car after doing all this.

Waiting for the vehicle to exit the slum apartment, he then turns his head towards John seated at the passenger seat and says.

"Those were the families and children of the missing maintenance workers just now."

"I thought you shot ordinary people, why say those words after delivering the money?"

"Owl Town gang lackeys will come to steal and rob, I have no obligation to greet the gang for a few people, but making a stink face is different, others will think I'm here to apply pressure, telling them not to cause trouble for the police station, just quietly keep the money."

Barry's view is quite realistic.

Part of what he said just now is sincere, if ordinary people go to the company without boundaries to make trouble, holding onto the little compensation, they might be directly silenced.

John continues asking.

"Where to now?"

"To solve your problem."

The police car turns two corners, slides into the most prosperous two blocks of Sakura Cross Street along the highly varied street.

Skyscrapers form a steel jungle.

Glass curtain walls reflect sunlight, while steps connecting different areas remain in the midst of mid and low-level buildings.

Densely packed billboards and projection equipment are at work.

Even during the day, walking on the street at the bottom of the bustling area, under intercity tracks and floating height limits, it's still a cold and damp scene.

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