Gunfire and explosions echoed on the highway.

The armored vehicle swayed left and right, diving in and out of the roadsides, using the smoke and natural terrain variations to dodge the shots. The two red taillights dragged out afterimages, almost reaching the perimeter of the ring road.

At that point, the ECPD would inevitably get involved.

The flying craft hovered at an angle behind the armored vehicle, the high temperatures from the vector engines continuously distorting the air. The automatic cannon was reloaded, and bullets once again formed two bright yellow dotted lines, attempting to lock onto it.

Da-da-da.

The armored vehicle's trunk lid was already riddled with holes along the way, and in the instant the gunfire lines crossed again, a gap was torn open.

Simon darted out, setting the Hercules on the glowing red gap.

"F*cking hell! B*tch! Suck my xx!"

He roared as he pulled the trigger, as if trying to swallow the muzzle flash, his muscles on both sides of his arms bulging like chunks of concrete.

The glorious blue electromagnetic rounds surged upwards, crackling as they scraped past the heavy shell of the flying craft, adjusting their trajectory within the smart algorithm.

Beep beep beep—

The vehicle's system emitted a panicked noise.

John needed to process various information simultaneously and conduct an off-road rally at nearly two hundred miles per hour. This armored vehicle in his hands was not as light and controllable as the Eisenberg supercar; the steering wheel felt like a bridle on a beast's neck.

He activated Sianweistan, using neural overclocking to handle the complex information.

Shift down, decelerate, and brake.

Schhh—

The screeching sound of burning rubber pierced through the gunfire.

John's elbow struck against the driver's side window while turning the wheel.

Maya, not wearing a seatbelt, was also thrown to the side. She quickly lifted her leg, her thick-soled military boots kicking Simon's arm, preventing this nearly two-hundred-pound man from crashing into her.

The Jurassic armor drifted on the U-shaped mountain road, the trunk scraping against the rock wall and sparking wildly, the white streak it left behind quickly covered and destroyed by the artillery bullets.

The flying craft skimmed low and swiftly returned.

John's Sianweistan was still at work, and in the time-frozen world through the rearview mirror, he could see—the rocks and road signs were shattered, bullets crossed and collided in mid-air, the 35mm cannon turning electromagnetic warheads into fireworks with blue arcs.

Buzz—

Time resumed.

John barely managed to "press" the drifting tires onto the ground, and the back seat was immediately covered by a barrage. The vehicle system indicated the rear armor was nearing its limit.

[Mission Objective Update]

[Take down the Faki Vector Transport. (Not Achieved)]

"F*ck, Simon, can you f*cking handle it or not!"

"I'm f*cking pulling the trigger as fast as I can!"

"Didn't that metal piece get bombarded? Can't you aim for the gap and shove the damn bullet into Du Remon's XX?!"

"Shut your mouth, it f*cking takes time, got it!"

Simon roared once more, as if the firing rate of the Hercules still didn't satisfy his needs.

Bam—

A stray bullet just grazed John and slammed into the front windshield.

"...Phew, f*ck!"

John gritted his teeth.

They were about to reach the outskirts of the city. Facing military flying craft on a flat, open highway was undoubtedly the dumbest decision.

Maya noticed John's agitation and began to explain.

Old Du was right in the driver's seat, protected by the metal contraption. The gap from the previous bombardment was at the lower back side, and to directly take out the vector engines, they would have to go around to the back.

John pondered for a moment, glanced at the prosthetic body cooling chamber, and said.

"Simon! Get ready to take over the steering wheel."

He charged the armored vehicle off the slope, forcibly maintaining balance amidst the continuous jolts of descent, then executed a sideways drift to align the vehicle in the middle of the road, distancing himself from the pursuing flying craft.

Simon grabbed the passenger seatback, planting his hard brown cowboy boots onto the dashboard with a smooth curve.

If it weren't for the emergency, John would have been furious.

He reclined the seat and propped himself up, leaving the steering and his life in Simon's hands, while he moved to the back to grab the machine gun.

Click.

John reached for the trigger and switched to kinetic blind-firing mode, discarding the aid of the smart aiming chip, maximizing the firing rate and burst, then changed to a full clip.

Buzz buzz buzz—

The shadow swept over the car top.

The flying craft had already closed in for the kill.

John took a deep breath and activated Sianweistan, the chaotic and indistinguishable gunfire plugging his ears like cotton.

He aimed and shot the armor connection point, then kicked the precarious trunk out. The entire iron plate twisted and flew into the air, the view instantly becoming clear and wide.

The aircraft tilted, adjusting its posture.

Its twin barrels glowed bright red in the night, the brown iron shell covered in scorch marks.

Tap, tap-tap.

The automatic cannon clicked like a jammed typewriter, metallic projectiles trailing shadows in the flames.

John, aided by Sianweistan, adjusted in the time-stopped world and leaped out of the vehicle wielding a machine gun.

Crack, screech—

An ear-piercing screech reached Maya's ears.

She curled her body, tucking her limbs under the seat to avoid exposure within the range of the armor-less cannon.

Tat tat tat…

Bullets wildly tore apart the vehicle's interior.

Through the rearview mirror, Maya saw:

John, sliding backwards using the trunk lid, lay supine at high speed amid a shower of sparks, raising Hercules, the stock wedged in a gap, firing upwards.

The massive recoil abruptly slowed his slide.

John raised his face, prosthetic eye flashing, repeatedly lit by the muzzle flash, as if watching an electronic fireworks show, while hot shell casings fell around the metal plate.

The notch in the tail of the bat-like wing was filled with bullets, the vector engine instantaneously engulfed in flames.

Rumbling, buzz—

The four vector engines retracted their torches, the engine emitted a strange noise, then weakened as it lowered in altitude.

The Faki Vector Transporter spewed thick smoke, crashing onto the road.

Jurassic ZT15 braked to avoid it, stopping still in the thick smoke and firelight.

John also propped himself up, watching from a distance.

The metal wings of the aircraft touched the ground, bending, the rigid parts embedded in the ground and twisted, components wrapped in smoke and flames, merging into a storm scattering everywhere.

"Hey, John, we need to go."

Simon extended his arm out the driver's window, signaling with a slap.

ECPD is likely to arrive soon.

John lifted his gun, cautiously searching forward, spotting Du Remon in the completely twisted cockpit.

This lunatic truly lived up to his Exile origins.

He had transformed himself into a semi-mechanical monster, his body completely fused with the console, connected by countless tubes and conductors, his face embedded with a tactical monocle, with blood oozing from around his mouth and nose.

John's prosthetic eye was top-notch.

He awkwardly activated the recording program, waiting for the progress bar to load through the scanning filter, subsequently scanning the surrounding scenes and focusing with a hand wave as the popup prompted.

This raw footage would serve as mission evidence.

[Contact Bone Shards. (Not achieved)]

[Time: 18:30]

The moment John sat in the back seat, the time just shifted.

He immediately sent a text, first stating the mission's completion, then uploaded the site's raw footage.

Simon drove, taking the two away from the urban area.

The red and blue lights of patrolling drones were already visible, the sirens breaking free from the city's noise, particularly clear in the relatively open suburbs.

[Contact - Ethan Ratliff (Voice Call)]

Worn out, John set down the heavy machine gun and signaled to Maya with his eyes, before answering the call right in front of Simon.

"It's done…"

[I haven't watched the video yet, but I trust you, John. Things must have been tougher than imagined, but you handled them excellently. I'm starting to reassess your professionalism, preparing to invest more chips and…trust.]

Bone Shards' speech was stable yet fast as if pressed for time, not leaving any space for John to interject.

[The money's been transferred to your account. I had finance check the Eden City Police Station's bounty on Old Du—heh, it's a bit low, they probably know some inside stories, merely going through the motions, so I directly paid double the bounty.]

"Generous, though I didn't care much for it."

John cast a sidelong glance at Maya.

At this moment, she was looking out the window, avoiding eye contact, yet surely eavesdropping.

Recalling the entire operation tonight…

Maya could be said to have had an overview of the situation, yet played the role of an unremarkable side character.

She did not steal the limelight, nor argue with teammates, yet when needed, she played a crucial role, making timely reminders and coordination, expressing doubts when necessary, but once a decision was made, never wasting words.

John didn't know if this was a result of Special Affairs Bureau training or qualities unique to Maya.

Before Bone Shards hung up, he pursued one last question.

"The reward has two parts. Within five minutes, I want a photo of Gerry and his daughter next to the clock."

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