"F*ck!"

John immediately sensed something was wrong.

"We're going to take out the leader of the third largest gang in the city with just three people and one gun?"

Caviar straightened his body.

He didn't utter a single word.

"It's not that ridiculous."

Maya said things haven't reached that point yet.

The core factor that allowed the Rift Party to grow was that it sparked a long-suppressed violence, but as a temporary leader, Du Remon lacked the ability to control this power.

"Old Du is ultimately just a despicable coward. He doesn't have the background and presence to rule a super gang, so now the Rift Party is developing independently in different regions, and he's more like a spiritual leader, or even just a name no one cares about."

Maya's investigation revealed:

Du Remon also realized his power was out of control, so he was eager to find oversized weapons, wanting to re-establish authority through extreme means and gather all the Rift Party members in the city.

He still had a group of initial members following him.

The resistance faced by John and Maya was actually just over twenty newly modified thugs.

"Not as bad as you imagined, right?"

Maya smiled bitterly.

"But not that easy either."

John shook his head.

[Contact-Cabinet [Voice Call]]

His cybernetic eye suddenly flickered. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to step into the corner washroom to answer.

"Buddy, I'm pretty busy right now, make it short."

[I have a question for you, do you have a grudge against Du Remon?]

"...Hiss, you have issues, buddy."

John quickly reviewed the entire process in his mind, unable to think of any moment that would reveal his intention to take out Old Du, yet the Cabinet precisely called at this time.

"Your information sensitivity has surpassed that of a second-hand vendor. Honestly, if I weren't so busy right now, I'd definitely ask you for an explanation..."

An all-too-familiar goofy laugh came from the other end.

"Let's talk about the matter first."

[Come to Oil Drum Street, to my place. I'm planning to leave for a while, and before I go, I'll give you a tip and a small favor, which definitely won't interfere with you dealing with Old Du.]

"I need to weigh this."

[I'll wait for you, hurry up, you won't regret it.]

The Cabinet's behavior today was very strange.

John returned to the room and updated Maya and the others about the current situation.

Caviar frowned, quite familiar with this character, the Cabinet.

"Damn, you're talking about the purple-haired guy on Oil Drum Street, right? He's another second-hand vendor dealing with military leftovers, and does business even more ruthlessly than I do."

Listening to Caviar's description, John found the image of the slick old guy in his mind somewhat unfamiliar.

"You think he's impressive?"

"Of course, didn't you know? He can even get oversized weapons, it's been the talk of the town lately, and some people have been making appointments with him..."

"F*ck."

John and Maya exchanged a quick glance.

[Eden City - Oil Drum Street]

Cabinet wore a sweat-stained vest, with his usual leather coat draped nearby, sitting on the table smoking — an electronic respirator pressed against the metal mask, smoke seeping out from the grill-like cheeks.

There were several packages and sealed boxes nearby.

The shelves and electronic products were gone.

John arrived in a hurry and took in the scene before asking around.

"Robbery or vendetta?"

"It's moving, buddy, I'm planning to change storefronts."

Cabinet winked, still speaking in his usual irreverent manner.

John crouched down to fiddle with the guns and parts in the bag, asking without looking up.

"Business not good?"

"NOnono, quite the opposite, it's a bit too good. I don't like turning business into a big supermarket."

Cabinet fumbled with the junction between his metal mask and skin.

Grease and grime instantly filled the crevices of his fingernails, much like Caviar. Perhaps second-hand vendors always cooped up in dark corners had serious skin issues.

His purple long hair flopped beside his forehead like a mop, revealing metal earrings and tattoos on his arm.

The more John looked, the more familiar it seemed, so he activated the scanner to focus.

[Graphic analysis, database matching...]

"WTF! You're a Wanderer?"

John was slightly surprised.

The Cabinet followed his gaze to his arm, chuckled a few times, and said in a nostalgic tone.

"I am a wanderer among wanderers."

John suddenly became interested in this middleman.

The Cabinet often emphasized rules, yet always remained vague.

He once said he refused to do business before eight in the evening, but John discovered—as he gradually became famous on the streets—that this rule could be ignored, you could even order remotely and have deliveries made to your door.

But every time The Cabinet made a transaction, he strictly adhered to the rule of "selling on odd days, collecting on even days."

From the end of the month to the beginning of the month, The Cabinet would "rest" for a week.

Calls would be diverted to voicemail.

As a black market vendor, he seemed to have his own channels for information, his nose keener than some other intermediaries.

The Cabinet had never shown urgency for business.

His client circle was relatively fixed, yet his business range was quite broad, able to procure anything from original manufacturer firearm parts to restricted heavy industrial equipment.

Genius considered him the most badass middleman on Oil Drum Street.

Only now did he realize he had another identity.

"Do you know Nando?"

"Sort of, I left the family quite early, belonged to the Klein Brown Tribe, had nothing to do with Damascus, when I started roaming in Eden City, Nando wasn't the leader yet."

The Cabinet rarely showed a desire to chat.

John took the initiative to inquire about his story.

"What does 'wanderer among wanderers' mean?"

"Only those whose lives are destroyed and have no place to stay are called wanderers. I was once a family member, moving from city to city until I got tired of it, so I left the family and took root in the city, tantamount to betraying the family and cutting off the retreat... There is no class in the world that belongs to me anymore."

The Cabinet's tone carried a playful undertone.

This experience was like a scar, not too terrifying, branded on the body to remind oneself, healed enough to be shown to others.

"Settling in the city, huh, Nando and the others are discussing this too, I can feel someone isn't very happy."

"Hahaha, there are bound to be quarrels."

"Wait, do you know Nando's story? Tell me about the gang wars of '75!"

John had heard a hint of it in the camp.

The Cabinet exhaled smoke with a smile and silently glanced at the package. "Would you care to do business? Some things are really hard to handle."

"...Damn it, spending money is fine, just don't give me garbage."

"How could I?"

The Cabinet clicked the respirator onto the mask and squatted among the piled-up packages searching for a parts box.

[Parts: Magnetic Clip [K65 Model]]

The Rapid Runner in John's hand had middling firepower, but as long as it was paired with a magnetic clip, it could almost reload in a second, offering a huge advantage in short-range vehicle skirmishes.

Unfortunately, he lost several while fighting the cyber freaks, and he didn't expect The Cabinet to have a compatible supply here.

Chips and parts are the main upgrade methods for firearms.

Apart from the major companies that produce them, no one can guarantee a stable supply of sources.

The market mainly depends on:

Smuggling, theft, market control, Ghoul disassembly...

None of them are stable.

So people who have mixed on the streets for a long time almost have a habit:

When encountering a shop or vendor they haven't seen before, they have to look at the list of goods, and if they find better chips and parts, they will generally choose to acquire them if conditions allow.

John paid without hesitation.

The Cabinet didn't show any joy, just like going through the motions, removed the e-cigarette and began narrating.

The Wanderer is a victim of capital expansion.

After losing everything, they banded together, but as the numbers increased, survival became an inevitable consideration.

The Wanderers divided into different states based on their power.

The states split into several tribes, bearing surnames, finally divided into family units for migration, seeking profitable job opportunities in different cities.

State, Tribe, Family.

John only remembered this much.

The Cabinet blew out smoke and continued speaking.

"Wanderers are the nomads of the Cyber Era, their vehicles are like cattle and sheep, acquiring grass and water in the steel jungle."

As The Cabinet narrated these contents, he smiled.

But there was none of the usual capriciousness in his expression, instead, there was even a hint of philosophical air.

"This passage I heard somewhere, it sounded profound when picking up girls; in our time, having a bad character with a bit of profundity, and there would be plenty of girls clinging on..."

The Cabinet explained with a smile.

After Old America collapsed and disintegrated, several rounds of corporate wars erupted, creating a plethora of job opportunities in the cities.

Ruins reconstruction, urban transportation, the rise of factories...

The Wanderers proliferated and migrated across the wastelands between cities, carving out routes in the slightly radioactive soil, almost seizing control of cross-city transportation and smuggling sectors.

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