No. 43 Old Factory Apartments, Palmer.

The gray concrete shell was marked by acid rain erosion, yet the occupancy rate was surprisingly high. Given its space and location advantages, it was considered a "premium" choice in the Palmer District.

John cleared out a few of the thugs on the perimeter.

There were more members of the Rift Party gathered here than he had imagined.

He changed into his second spare magazine since entering the room, accelerated again through the cluttered "industrial-style" lobby, and arrived at the interior used for living and equipment inspection.

Residual takeout boxes were left on the sofa dining table.

The amount of food was minimal, instead there were more nutrient injectors and various component materials.

The Rift Party collaborated with the Ghouls.

One was a group heavily modified, and the other a major supplier of prosthetic bodies to the city's underworld, a match made in stinking heaven, with needs that aligned.

John initially planned on stealth assassination all the way, but upon approaching, found the door was still using a physical lock.

The building was too old, even when converted into apartments it hadn't been upgraded to an electric code lock. The metal surface was mottled, with slight rust, black oil stains on the corners and bearings.

The encased steel layer was over ten centimeters thick.

Even if John whipped out a rifle, he couldn't break in, so he simply took an arm and pounded loudly on the door.

Footsteps filled with emotion were approaching.

The concrete ceiling already had drafts, the soundproofing was worse than imagined.

"What the f*ck are you doing out there with Shark Coins?"

The door was pushed open rudely.

John's eyes were sharp, and as soon as only half a head was exposed, he grabbed the door panel and yanked it hard outward.

The Rift Party member holding the doorknob hesitated, losing balance, and was pulled forward into a bow.

Without thinking, John raised his knee and slammed it into his face.

"Hiss—"

John's brow furrowed, the sensation in his leg was dull like he had hit a jagged piece of metal.

Experience told him such a knee strike would normally render someone unconscious if not concussed, but the muscular giant in front of him had high muscle bundle strength, his neck and shoulders seemed fused, making bruises and shock unlikely.

"Huh, ugh..."

His back muscles bulged, the heat dissipation lines on his subcutaneous armor began smoking, he was ready to stand up against the attack.

John didn't have time to flip the muzzle, so he swung his elbow and delivered another fierce blow to his head.

Bang!

The sound of flesh meeting metal resounded.

The Rift Party giant kneeled with one knee on the ground, unloading force with a fist pounding into the floor.

He wore a vest, tattoos and muscles exposed, his arms were thicker than the Knight's John had seen earlier.

John saw his shoulder suddenly rise, instinctively dodged his head, and heard a thunderous roar, feeling like a small explosion occurred nearby.

A shotgun burst fired from the giant's shoulder.

Smoke mixed with ammo and heat waves grazed John's cheek at close range, embedding the wall opposite with bullets, splintering the hollow bricks into fragments.

Buzz—

John hadn't expected this guy to have something concealed in his body.

The right side of his face was scratched by a stray bullet, fiery, his ear was covered with tinnitus like someone had poured warm caramel into it.

Deafened, the foreign sensation was strong, and it hurt without being able to extract anything.

In the corner of his eye, John glimpsed the scene behind the door—a dim, misty room, with three-color LED strips embedded everywhere, and metal plank tables surrounded by stacks of components and syringes.

Two heavily modified Rift Party giants approached the doorway.

One of them was the Knight.

"Sun Mar Heat... Bitch!"

The gunman angrily flipped John over, raising his left arm, flipping his wrist to reveal another gun barrel.

The heavy metal rock from the speakers began to go off-key.

The motion of the gunman raising his hand slowed to several times, even the slight "click" of the prosthetic structure could be heard.

Data streams flashed in John's pupils.

The Messiah's Eye went into overdrive, capturing the activation of Sianweistan, automatically activating the Graphene Chip which made his nerves become more agile.

The light smoke in the room was stirred.

A bald giant flashed out, leaving moving shadows in the dark filter, the naked back adorned with a metal prosthetic, lights sequentially lit from top to bottom at this moment.

He quickly approached John, ten fingers taut, Mantis Blades popping out from the outer side of his arms.

John clearly saw the opponent's move, immediately activated Sianweistan, synchronously retreating backward.

The bald man swung the Mantis Blade.

His chest tightened, exerting too fiercely which resulted in the cortex tearing open, exposing red muscle bundles.

The bent blade tips roared forward.

Even in a time-dilated vision, a terrifying momentum could be felt.

The Mantis Blade stabbed into the door frame, slicing through rusted metal-clad wood, cutting through wall bricks and scraping past John's chest.

The debris brought out slapped John's face like a reminder of how close death had just come.

[Forced Cool Value: 29%↑]

The bald man demonstrated powerful explosiveness.

Just avoiding this assault cost John a third of his cool value, if he continued to maintain the time-stop state, exhausting the value to the end would lock the prosthetic, forcibly exiting Sianweistan and starting to cool down.

The bald man's modifications were far from low.

He jumped, springing over the gunman, using his incredible core strength to rotate in the air, aiming to finish off with another Mantis Blade.

John immediately ducked down and hunched over.

He saw the blade embed into the slanted upper wall, moving downward without stopping, carving a trench threatening his neck.

Bam!

John braced against the wall, using the strength of his Alloy Skeleton to push himself back under the gunman.

The bald man's two sneak attacks missed but he seemed at ease.

His modification level far exceeded John's, crafting a full set of prosthetics focused on close-quarters assassination, complementing each other.

Any ordinary Lone Wolf mercenary would have been seriously injured already.

This ultimately was because John's prosthetic grade was higher.

His phenomenal capture speed, high Sianweistan parameters.

Although John moved fluidly and swiftly in the time-stop environment, the intense actions had strained a small portion of the muscles, and the burden on internal organs was not low.

[Forced Cool Value: 86%↑]

John's quick eyes caught the gunman's arm, aiming it at the bald man.

Bam!

The time-stop filter shattered.

The surrounding flow rate instantly resumed normal.

The bald man teleported from the room to the doorway, slicing through the wall connection with a Mantis Blade, and then was hit mid-air by a comrade's explosive, crashing through the wall and falling down.

John stood up from beneath the cannon man, executing a close combat move to throw him over his shoulder onto the ground.

[Chip: Naked Strangle Assassin]

Disoriented from the throw, the muscular cannon man barely regained his wits before hearing a strange metallic twist, only to find one of his arms twisted behind and broken.

John let go, not daring to breathe.

He couldn't afford to waste time picking up the dropped handgun, so he flipped the rifle from his back to the front and pulled the trigger against the cannon man's head.

The head didn't explode dramatically.

In his peripheral vision, John saw his shoulder twitching again and instantly pulled the trigger for a close-range burst.

The bullets pierced through skin, severing muscle fibers.

The area from the back of the cannon man's head to the neck gradually shattered, exposing soft metal and protective structures, until it was a bloody mess, and only in the spasms caused by residual electrical signals did he finally drop dead.

Bang, bang, bang.

John hadn't even had time to relax; the thought of releasing the trigger hadn't fully emerged when his right shoulder was struck by three bullets.

The skirmish in Sianweistan to the execution of the cannon man happened in a short time.

Knight stood inside the room, quick to react, raising his gun to shoot at John.

John was forced to roll away from the doorway.

Backing against the wall to avoid the gun line, a dull pain spread to his back.

[Subdermal Armor: 76%]

The bald man swung the Mantis Blade and charged.

His chest was torn by a comrade's shotgun, armor seeping blood, Sianweistan also forcefully cooled, could only fight at normal speed.

John dodged with precision, his arm slashed twice, but he avoided serious injury in the close quarters combat.

[Chip: Raqi Industry-Ranger]

Among the action chips he loaded were techniques for unarmed combat against knives and evasive maneuvers.

The gap widened.

John adjusted his rifle, aimed at the bald man, and fired, bullets spraying, making him a bloody mess.

This guy's entire body was a close combat prosthetic, the armor more resilient, incredibly tanking the gunfire as he dashed into a room.

Just as John was about to pursue, he noticed something rolling toward his feet.

[△1.75S↓]

The Messiah's Eye glanced at a countdown.

He stopped, crouching beside the cannon man, just as an explosion echoed through the building.

The shockwave propagated along the structure.

Muffled screams and cries heard in the distance.

John, shaking his head, stood up.

Knight and the bald man had vanished, the room now empty.

On his way to the window, John heard the steel staircase creaking but saw nothing peering out.

"F*ck! Fa—cough, cough."

He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily to ease the tightness in his chest, quickly searching inside and outside the room.

The targets had indeed escaped.

John flipped over the cannon man's corpse, taking photos.

Having completed the basic tasks, he shook his head, taking a deep breath, telling himself to calm down, face solemn as he contemplated tactics.

Whoosh, buzz—

A cacophony of air as engine noise reached him.

John's eyes flew open, crossing the window with rapid speed.

He wasn't disoriented by the labyrinth of shelters and stairs, instead cutting directly through the alley to the main street.

Squeal—buzz—

A black cash transport vehicle with white logos shot out from a loading alley onto the main road.

It moved quickly, dragging debris from its forceful exit.

[Vehicle: Potsdam-U70]

This medium-large vehicle, with armor sometimes called a road tank, resembled a flat-headed container when aligned, yet its horsepower was immense, speed astonishing.

John grabbed his rifle, emptying the magazine at the driver's seat.

But ordinary ammunition only left minor marks on the level six high-strength bulletproof glass.

The bald knife man clutched the steering wheel, eyes bloodshot, adjusting direction to run over John, who managed to dodge.

The U70 truck grazed the building wall, leaving brick dust and debris in its wake.

It realigned, accelerating down the main road.

Roughly a few dozen seconds later.

Vroom, vroom!

John rode a black motorcycle out of the alley, drifting on the unstable sandy road, raising the front wheel in the same direction, then landing hard.

Spectators emerged, only seeing the afterimage of the taillights.

[Eden City-Circumferential Road 244 Overpass [Nearby]]

The wind howled past his ears.

John's right ear, injured by the blast, ached slightly.

Unfazed, he frowned, weaving through traffic searching for the target.

Palmer Street was a dead end.

Coming out of the warehouse main road, if not heading to the port or out of town, there weren't many direction choices.

His speed in pursuit was fast, and without catching sight, it could only mean…

John approached the guardrail, glancing below.

On the exit loop to the city from the overpass, familiar U70 cash transport vehicle was steadily advancing.

Knight and the bald man argued in the driver's seat.

They cursed, pounding the vehicle, the soft metal structures on their faces twisted grotesquely; after growling and venting, they finally remembered to call for information.

Knight sat in the passenger seat.

He calmed first, giving orders.

"Call those company dogs!"

"Both the cargo and personnel problems have to be dealt with, damn it!"

"F*ck…"

As he spoke, he suddenly choked, his metal-wrapped mouth slightly open, seeing through the rearview mirror:

An Alloy RCH leapt over the high-rise guardrail.

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