Each of them had tattoos, with their bulging muscles and powerful prosthetic limbs exposed.

These people could fight better than regular mechanics.

John was very familiar with vehicles and knew that repair shops often swapped parts, ripping off unsuspecting customers; the specifics depended directly on your street reputation and wealth status.

When he was with the Tiebang Logistics transport fleet, he was well aware of which parts frequently suffered "wear and tear" and how to use technical means to circulate them in the market.

He knew the ropes all too well.

John estimated the work progress in the repair workshop, interlocking his fingers on his stomach, seemingly lazily waiting for it to finish, but actually discreetly adjusting his gun to a handy position.

[Prosthetic Body: Atlanta - Virtual Network]

Black Light monitored the vehicle system remotely.

During repairs, if anyone dared to isolate the core motherboard, or if it detected any unnecessary component changes…

John would immediately pull out his piece and go downstairs to have a heart-to-heart with the person in charge, until he forced out the person behind the scenes, defending his rights in the way of mercenaries.

Tap, tap, tap.

John's daydream was interrupted by a series of footsteps.

He turned his head and saw a pair of snow-white long legs and silver-toed high heels, further up were creased ultra-short hot pants, with a gemstone-studded navel on a balanced snow-white waist.

A receptionist with green and white ombre dyed hair walked over.

She had just handled business for John, steadied her glasses, applied powder-pink glitter lip gloss, and pursed her lips slightly.

"Mr. John, my boss wants to talk to you."

She slightly bent over, with lace undergarment curves wrapped, a semi-transparent striped shirt tied at her waist.

John raised his eyebrows, looked around, and asked puzzledly.

"Here?"

"That's right, please wait a moment."

The waitress didn't wait for John's refusal, raised her hand to flip the white-dyed big waves at her ear, revealing a heat vent and slot, inside which a behavioral chip quietly flashed.

A second later.

Her pupils focused and then diffused, as data flashed she suddenly exuded an inexplicable aura, as if she became another person, with an executive-like presence that was superior and insightful.

The "waitress" lightly waved her hand.

A spherical sofa in the distance was activated, its base lifted swiftly moving behind her, rotating the direction of the chair back, waiting for the waitress to stabilize before slowly adjusting a short distance forward.

"Wow, okay, I didn't even know that thing could move."

John raised his eyebrow, acting relaxed, while the opposite waitress naturally crossed her long legs.

"Very funny, John, I'm Raphael."

"Uh, should I know who you are?"

John's tone was sincere, his expression somewhat puzzled.

Raphael didn't mind, smiling and nodding, even with a kind and inclusive feel, making her real age guessing hard.

"Yes, you should know."

Her tone wasn't arrogant when she said this.

"You're like the information I collected, suddenly appearing, with quite a good reputation for work. But at the same time, you lack accumulation, missing the street kid's process of struggling and slowly growing… you're not a strict mercenary, don't understand the rules, inexperienced, lacking basic street knowledge."

The name Raphael is clearly part of "common knowledge".

John shook his head.

"Wow, hold on a minute, buddy, uh… or ma'am? You can't just sit down and start lecturing me. You want to talk to me, right? Then I'll start."

Oulos also had similar comments about John, but now he wanted to regain the initiative in their conversation.

"Is this place under your control? I mean the East District underground."

Raphael gave a definite answer.

She didn't elaborate on specifics, nor did she introduce the power structure, only stating she had absolute authority.

John immediately threw out his most concerned question—the robbery encountered at the underground black market exit, what was going on?

Raphael didn't avoid it.

"Those were a few naive kids, there are always fearless fools among street newcomers who don't listen to advice, dreaming of instantly becoming big shots; of course, with Nocturne Bar's instigation, it doesn't affect us, it's purely disgusting, didn't expect you to run into it."

The underground black market under Raphael gathered the best mercenaries in Eden City and the most lawless clients, street gangs cultivated by Nocturne Bar surely weren't too pleased, occasionally sending some people to stir things up or smash the place is understandable.

"The only thing I did about this matter was not stopping it because you were getting close with the Black Gold Gang and progress rapidly, I suspected you were private firepower cultivated by Jingke Heavy Industry… Oh, I declare beforehand, I don't mind that point, just need to figure out who your boss is before feeling more at ease."

"Clear now?"

"Bizarre luck, who knows? Anyway, I don't plan to dwell on this point, after all, street legends are always a bit special."

Raphael knew John was impulsive and proactively showed goodwill.

"I'm very interested in you. If you want to continue being a mercenary in Eden City in the future, then our friendship is critically important. It's not a threat but because I have the best reputation in this city, many newly growing newcomers directly or indirectly take jobs from me, if intermediaries can't finish the job, it will end up on my desk, understand? That's why the East District underground can remain solid; companies and councillors cannot entirely control here."

Raphael propped her chin with her hand, like a crazy collector with a hobby for collecting limited edition bags.

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