The seller leading the transaction was a Middle Eastern man dressed in a silver suit, his facial features prominent and unabashed.

John and Oulos found another suspect in subsequent photos, a woman with a tattoo near her eye, her head shaved.

Their facial scans yielded no results.

John's brow furrowed gradually—Black Light had stuffed his prosthetic eye database with a plethora of files; if not even a name surfaced, it meant that in some sense, they didn't exist.

"At least we know their faces, hmm... partly. I'll pass the info to various companies, let those panicked corporate dogs do the digging, haha. With so many enterprises and resources, something's bound to surface."

Oulos flipped a ceramic smoking pipe, seeing no flame, only an indicator light flashing; moments later, a faintly fruity smoke was exhaled.

"Big shots will get moving; they definitely don't want something like a Wandering AI Matrix blowing up under their asses next."

Blind fuss and panic are meaningless; leave the problem to those with broader resources and more time.

Then wait quietly.

The Wandering AI caused heavy damage to the Raqi Group and Owl Town Gang, coupled with the death of a senator which would surely lead to chaos within the city. Although Du Remon was killed by John, ultimately Bone Shards commissioned it, so whoever paid the mercenaries must take the responsibility.

The Black Gold Gang wasn't scared.

Bone Shards didn't shirk.

John wasn't meant to be the fall guy.

John listened to the analysis, exhaled slightly, his calmness revealing a slight heartache—the irregular schedule and relentless fleeing took a massive toll on the body, and now the side effects of overusing Sianweistan started showing.

"Nando is about to return, and my work regarding Silver Port is about to be completed... Babe, this also means your vacation ends, get ready to work off your debt for me."

Oulos put on her silver-framed glasses again, concealing pupils that perpetually streamed data, exquisite like a high-class doll causing self-shame.

John frowned, diverting his gaze, suppressing inexplicable thoughts.

Oulos changed the subject.

"Of course, not now, I need to take advantage of the mess to get into the company's higher-ups, contact you when needed."

She lifted the tent flap, grabbing her equipment to step out.

John carried a metal case, following behind, crossing the yellow sand, metal cones, and one busy Wandering after another, arriving at the open space where large vehicles were parked.

The black business vehicle waited silently in the shadows, its side door lifted high, revealing burgundy upholstery, and Maya, seated like a hostage in the back.

Oulos was wrapping up things for the Wanderers on this trip, incidentally copying the data containing transaction records and secrets of the Rift Party.

She patted the data hard disk.

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

"So?"

"I'll demonstrate for you."

Oulos lifted her chin slightly from over ten meters away, her gaze falling on Maya, teaching John how to use resources to survive stably in Eden City.

John listened attentively.

Until the black business sedan drove out of the Wanderer Camp.

He couldn't leave for the time being because the car was still under repair, and there wasn't anything too urgent for the moment, so he found a food storage warehouse to sleep in, using cooling equipment to resist the high temperature of the blazing sun.

Not sure how much time passed, a dreamless shallow sleep was interrupted by a violent retching.

"... Ugh~ Phew, F*ck."

John finally accepted the fact that something was wrong with his body, and it wasn't merely drug overdose.

He retrieved a Special Inhibitor from the inner layer of his work jacket, fumbling at the slot, feeling a thin layer of sweat on his neck, controlling the hand tremor, steadily placing the item in, accompanied by a barely audible click and faint burnt smell from hardware damage...

A warm flow and comfort spread through John's body.

He exhaled in relief, wiping away physiological tears, seeing black moisture-proof flooring, a few drops of a mixture of saliva and sweat on it.

There was a shadow that flashed by the doorway.

"Wow, hey!"

John turned around in surprise, a sense of being exposed to secrets surged in his heart, locking his sight, seeing a girl wearing a flax-colored T-shirt standing in the doorway.

"... Ah, it's you."

She was the social orphan John sent to the Damascus Camp, temporarily fostered by Qiao, with a gambling addict and trafficker father whom John had personally eliminated and stuffed into an oil drum during a mission.

The Wanderers treated the children pretty well, ensuring they have no worries about food and clothing and providing some traditional education.

"Uh, hey, why are you here?"

John tried greeting her but received no response.

Her childhood affected her personality, currently willing to communicate only with a few people, including Qiao.

"Alright... you look better, but not quite there yet, so eat without reservation... Nando and the others are getting fat..."

John squatted in front of her, rambling.

Still no response, only a pair of calm, unmodified native pupils gazing back at him.

John was pondering:

How to ease the awkwardness, or whether to take her to find Qiao or someone else when...

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

John couldn't grasp the child's thoughts, squatting in place, watching her walk away at a slow pace, lowering his head to examine the candy.

This was a piece of industrial hard candy with traces of stimulant.

The greasy candy wrapper was sticky, with an oval-shaped logo slightly blurred, faintly visible words like "Dream" and "Delicious".

When John killed that jerk at the Black Gold Gang's casino, he casually grabbed a handful from the front desk's glass bowl for the little girl; what did it mean for her to return the item now?

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