John was about to cross Dan Street, and he saw another car flipped on its side diagonally opposite—flames had already been extinguished, thick smoke billowed, and yellow caution tape surrounded the scene of the accident. Police were verifying information from the black body bags and leaving white human-shaped outlines on the ground.

Beep, beep, beep—

A heart-stopping alarm echoed in the city sky.

The special operations team had already begun their slaughter.

Red streaks seemed to penetrate the virtual projections, and the distant sound of automatic guns was transmitted, the vibrations and rumbling made even John in the driver's seat feel it.

Tat-tat-tat.

Raindrops fell on the engine hood.

John accelerated, quickly distancing himself from the area, racing along the oil-slicked black asphalt road, weaving through neon-flooded puddles until the rooftop of the Bolago Club's underground parking garage blocked the rain.

Deafening music and the sound of tires burning echoed in the parking lot.

John left the driver's seat, surveying the somewhat unfamiliar garage.

The place had been renovated, infused with a strong "Bone Shards" scent—the pillars around the parking lot were wrapped in gold, the originally stylish graffiti eradicated, luxurious cars from various companies sprawled on high-end sound systems and shiny epoxy floors.

He noticed the number of vehicles was more than when Mr. Vito was in power.

Trust in Sakura Cross Street collapsed due to the roaming AI incident.

Socializing and indulgence for the wealthy and powerful could only occur elsewhere.

John inexplicably felt that this was part of Bone Shards' calculations. Killing Du Remon was certainly not just simple revenge against the Owl Town gang; perhaps the subsequent impact was considered.

Ding—

The silver elevator doors opened.

Cold, pungent air mixed with the aroma of alcohol hit him, long light strips, and irregular billboards filled the hall, with mechanical shark holograms roaming the air.

The once golden lavish hall was filled with noise.

It seemed like a huge party was taking place here, masked men and women shuttling through the hall.

A man in a sequined suit carried his partner, brushing past John and entered the elevator. As they collided, a soft moan was emitted; before the elevator doors closed, a flash of snow-white was visible...

John withdrew his gaze.

He first confirmed his membership hadn't expired, then looked around, trying to determine if he was on the wrong floor.

The Bolago Club had changed significantly under Bone Shards rule.

This time, John took the membership-only elevator up, with no main entrance as a reference, walking in a hall comparable to a dance floor, unable to find the path to Mr. Vito's old office.

A female server wearing a golden mask approached on high heels of the same color.

[Device: V8 Butler Intelligent Machine]

[Developer: Jingke Heavy Industry]

Jingke specializes in service-oriented Intelligent Robots.

Products designed by it don't aim for durability and destructive power like some military high-tech companies but focus on system management and personalized data calculations, using skins too complex for human transplantation to cover precise machinery, infinitely magnifying humanoid characteristics.

John and the female robot's pupils almost flashed simultaneously.

He instinctively furrowed his brow, amazed at the indistinguishable white synthetic leather and the step free of mechanical pause.

The server's ear lit up, as if receiving data.

She faced John, precisely reciting his membership number, her voice gently enough for one to imagine the smile behind her golden mask, as if the silver graffiti replacing facial features was a special face.

"It's been some time since you visited Bolago Club; perhaps you need some guidance and companionship. I can stay beside you, introduce new entertainment methods, or allow me to access the database to arrange tonight according to past service records."

"I'm not in the mood for a party, phew~ where is the medical area? I have a friend hospitalized here."

"Please follow me."

She responded crisply, without entanglement, without continuing to sell new things, simply turning to activate the elevator.

John followed the mechanical server, looking at her back—the silicon filler was covered by tattooed synthetic leather skin, emitting an indescribable fragrance as her figure swayed.

John recalled how Maya once mentioned to him.

A special bio perfume among the Gaia Cells products regulates hormones or something else, making those who smell it uncontrollably emotional.

The hall's noise suddenly roared.

John tilted up his angular jaw, his gaze swept across the scene, thousands of bubbles passed through screaming guests, casting vibrant colors into the lighting atmosphere.

His side-parted short hair floated in the industrial-scented wind, his head following the bizarre scene tracing arcs.

The central hollow area of the Bolago Club building was now floating with more strange, glamorous electronic projections, running through red and purple light beams in a cyclical upward motion.

Ding—

The elevator arrived.

The server smiled, seeing John come to his senses.

"I look forward to seeing you again, sir."

The silver engraved Black Gold Gang emblem slowly closed, cutting off the noise and temptation from outside.

With a strange heartbeat, John ascended slowly.

Inside the elevator, he couldn't even hear the sound of machinery operating, only imperceptible vibrations, a suddenly popped-up advertisement—the high-standard invitation and the Bolago Club membership auction in the enrollment stage, the central panel displayed John's membership number and current package, allowing for immediate renewal, upgrade, and purchase of new offerings.

John tucked his hands in his work coat pockets, cautiously walked through the medical area corridor.

Luckily, not much had changed here.

Seamless arched ceiling, pipeline corridor, soft gray arcs extending forward in hidden light strips.

There were green plants and a front desk, staffed nurse on duty.

Clients wearing simple blue gowns, accompanied by professional caregivers, shuttled through room after room.

John found the ward area according to memory, noticing the small door to the outdoor balcony was open.

The door lock indicator light flashed regularly.

The noise and heat of Eden City flooded in through this gap, diluting the air conditioning and tranquility of the hospital ward.

Maya's husband.

Gerry Pierce stood inside the railing, smoking slowly—a handmade cigarette he rolled himself.

Sirens echoed melodiously throughout the city.

Skyscrapers, like black pixel blocks, were embedded into the city, staggered with bright yellows, and billboards overflowed like electronic viruses in the gaps, with colors climbing and growing wildly across the steel jungle.

"If you're planning to jump, I'll take you to the rooftop. You might have a few extra moments in the air to regret it."

"Oh, sh*t, John, it's you."

Gerry shook his head with a wry smile, bandages wrapped around his face, bruises and scars visible in areas not covered by the hospital gown.

"Don't worry, man, I'm not thinking about suicide, Malt Sugar and Maya are still inside... just, well, wanted a smoke, can't light up in the room, those smoke detectors are more sensitive than those damn electrode patches..."

The pain Gerry experienced before and after the surgery was nothing compared to the bank statement gripped in his palm.

He sincerely thanked John, scratching his slightly balding head.

"Uh, can you tell me in detail, what exactly happened to Maya after the incident? That woman is stubborn, probably didn't want to scare Malt Sugar, but I can tell the actual process wasn't as simple as she downplayed it."

"She killed the Rift Party leader and made a deal with Bone Shards."

John took out a pack of cigarettes to share with him, and the two leaned against the high-rise railing, chatting with one facing forward and the other backward.

Thick smoke lines trailed far away.

Gerry gradually fell silent as he listened, his brow furrowed, arm hairs bristling several times.

John did not hide Maya's sacrifices.

But he believed that Gerry wouldn't have it easy either.

The shop that was burned down once held all of the family's past savings and future investments; even with the promises from Bone Shards and medical deductions, the bank and insurance companies wouldn't let them go easily.

The cigarette's red ember flickered for the last time.

John exhaled white smoke, looking at the cigarette butt dangling precariously from Gerry's fingers.

"Getting screwed by life isn't pleasant; honestly, crawling out of a mess like this from a hospital bed takes a lot of courage."

Yet Gerry just shook his head with a smile.

"I need to go hug my wife. How about you, want to meet Malt Sugar? She's really cute."

The implication being that they might not see each other again.

Gerry's daughter had just completed her immigration procedures.

The massive bills would affect their whole family's legal status, and the debt collectors would surely make an issue out of it.

The best outcome would be to leave Eden City alive.

"F*ck, your damn sense of superiority."

"Eight years of marriage, man, you wouldn't understand."

Gerry and John retraced their steps through the softly lit and bright corridor scented with disinfectant.

Maya wasn't surprised by John's visit.

She had changed her clothes, covering the gunshot wound, and was chatting "sleepily" with her daughter about childish topics, preparing for the street life that might come.

John wasn't sure how to interact with children.

He made a half-hearted attempt with the girl whose eyes were swollen, then called Maya and Gerry out, getting straight to the point.

"Do you have a follow-up plan?"

John was asking Maya.

But evidently, the retired agent from the Intelligence Bureau had no idea—perhaps she could rely on her experience and knowledge for illegal dealings, whereas the honest Gerry would have to "debut" at an advanced age, competing with the street kids for the survival resources in the dark alleys.

John nodded, continuing.

"Sounds bad, why not work with me, do some jobs for me."

"Street business, sure, killing might be tough, but delivering contraband and other things shouldn't be a problem."

Gerry grabbed onto it like a lifeline, accepting without any surprise or hesitation, knowing that supporting his family by any means necessary was paramount.

Through Maya's brief words and preconceived notions...

He naturally assumed:

That the work in the words of a lone wolf mercenary like John should be related to illegal activities, killing, and looting; at the very least, it would involve dealing with organs and gray market implants.

Oulos proposed a plan.

She didn't care about the survival of Maya's family but used this opportunity to teach John the concept of resource balance—Eden City's real game rules for survival.

The first is location, the foundation of business.

Oulos advised John to use the huge sum acquired from killing the Rift Party leader to take over the shop promised by Bone Shards.

The geographical position should be at the edge of Black Gold Gang's territory.

To avoid control by Bone Shards, but also make use of resources from other areas.

The second is supply, the types of business.

John helped connect the farmers and Wanderers, fully capable of leveraging this to obtain a distributor's qualification, using it in the shop, running a fresh food processing restaurant, or an open sales point.

Oulos said that if the old man tears up the bridge after crossing it and loses face, let Nando and Damascus Camp put pressure on them.

On the Wanderer's side, they would surely cooperate with John.

The likelihood of the farmer disagreeing is very low.

After all, he is a capitalist from an old American private farm, understanding the concept of mutually beneficial cooperation; once the Wanderer's business expands, it will inevitably lead to war with food companies...

They would certainly need mercenaries.

John is a good choice.

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