The Calormen Truck stopped in front of the low-rent apartments in the West District.

This area was far from Dan Street, remote, lacking basic patrol management and public safety facilities, even the elevator shafts were empty.

"What are your plans now?"

John parked the car and waited for Wenna to finish her last puff of cigarette.

She seemed to have regained her pride and courage.

"The gig at Tipsy Bikini is out of the question for me, I'll first check with some smuggler connections to see if there's any suitable work. I've mentioned before, there are a few middlemen who specialize in introducing newcomers to Eden City to opportunities."

"I'll contact some friends in the Black Gold Gang. Hey, Wenna, listen, I'm the one who killed the person. If anyone wants revenge, let them come for me."

"Thank you, John."

Wenna responded with a smile, left the passenger seat, removed her tie knot, and disappeared on the concrete steps littered with fluorescent graffiti and filth.

She didn't ask John for more help.

The Chavez restaurant could indeed turn the checkout counter into a bar. Gerry was recently negotiating with affordable distilleries and smugglers.

John didn't bring up the matter voluntarily.

He didn't have many days left, no need to give people hope.

[Contact - Jilead [Voice Call]]

John drove the truck back near Dan Street, attempting to contact Jilead to see if things could be sorted.

The call didn't go through and went to voicemail.

"Hmm, that's strange."

He returned to the familiar Bolago Club, passed through the wide grand steps and the bizarre holographic projections.

The flow of people in the mall had decreased significantly.

John took the escalator, lifting up his hood emitting a rancid smell to hide his cheeks in the shadows.

Armed Black Gold Gang thugs could be seen everywhere.

Their ranks had grown larger and more well-equipped. A quick glance showed more combat prosthetic bodies.

Black Gold Gang's members weren't of a single skin color.

Bone Shards was a good example, and as the war became fiercer, the selection mechanism for fresh blood eased, giving many West District street kids the chance to develop in the gang.

[Shop - Tipsy Bikini]

The familiar sign still hung at the most prominent location around the mall's high corner.

Several muscular Black Gold Gang bodyguards stood at the door, just looking at their muscular necks made it seem like their veins ran with contraband drugs and coolant.

John glanced at their equipment.

Black suits and laser sunglasses, paired with heavy combat arms, and holstered with Rongju Company-made kinetic shotguns.

The bar's atmosphere had sharply changed.

The music inside was harsh, the laser lights were all on, and slightly cold smoke spilled out through the door gaps, carrying the smell of industrial incense and mysterious drugs from afar.

John lost the desire to explore inside.

He turned towards the [Bandage Boxing Gym] directly opposite.

The underground boxing matches were the hottest commercial events in the West District, with street fighting bets visible all across the city.

The American Insight World News Radio Station (ALW) had already bought the broadcast rights to several events, aiming to operate as an international program, and sponsored several hovercar routes to loop overhead Eden City.

The boxing gym's business was better than before.

"John!?"

Gino, carrying a whole basket of towels, passed by the entrance, saw John come in, and greeted him with a smile.

She wore a white tank top, tied her hair, revealing a neck network access implant and tattoos near her collarbone, likely helping her brother Macao and occasionally guiding novice boxers.

"I'm looking for Jilead, he didn't pick up my call, so I thought I'd drop by the gym to see if I ran into any acquaintances."

John hurried to dump the towels into the dryer, turning around only to find Gino's expression oddly strange.

"What, do you know where he is?"

"Jilead's been having a tough time lately, ah... let me take you to him."

[Bolago Club - Underground Boxing Match Promotion Zone]

The audience's roars were almost lifting the roof off.

Following Gino straight to the underground arena, using boxing gym connections to pass through internal passages, John saw the familiar wire cage.

The audience kept throwing things down.

The Black Gold Gang security wielded electric shock guns as they rushed up the isolation net.

The ventilation system howled as it whipped up the smoke, and numerous laser lights stuck close to the walls, illuminating parts of the fluorescent graffiti and golden decorations.

"Damn it, have they all gone mad?"

John had been here more than once.

"This match must have high stakes to drive the audience this crazy..."

He sniffed carefully, noting something odd mixed in the atmospheric smoke.

The site security wore respirator masks, seeming to confirm his suspicions, with light-up toxin filter tubes and voice changers on their roaring voices.

All these were further manifestations of commercialization.

Gino handed over a small respirator.

John pressed it against his mouth and inhaled deeply, feeling a slight numbness at the root of his tongue, instantly dispelling the side effects of the hallucinogen.

Gino gestured for John to look at the boxing ring.

The electrified wire fence had been replaced by a laser net offering a clearer view.

This thing was essentially a giant electric heating wire.

If a fighter accidentally leaned against it, it would rip skin and draw blood, looking more exhilarating than an electric shock, much to the gore-loving audience's delight.

Jilead was on the ring at that moment, pounding a boxer violently.

He was stronger than the last time John saw him, shirtless, with his back muscles covered by large golden tattoos, and the cooling vents on his body's surface adorned with glowing lines.

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