"Why haven't we seen Talia?"

John changed the topic.

"She left the camp, oh, don't get me wrong, she signed up for inter-city work, heading north to Washington, and won't be back to Eden City for at least half a year."

Alonna's expression was a bit strange.

"Didn't she tell you?"

"Mm-hmm, Nope, why are you asking?"

John turned his gaze while holding a can.

Alonna's cobalt-blue prosthetic eye flickered with confusion.

"I thought you two were getting along well, there was a bet about you in the camp a while ago, yeah, betting on who you would roll in the sheets with first..."

"Damn it, there was such a thing! No wonder Screwdriver kept pushing me into girls' trailers, those bastards were secretly betting!"

"Yes."

Alonna's expression was serious, as if discussing something other than an adult prank game.

"J and Mado invited me to bet too, they said Talia had a thing for you, might come on strong, the odds were good, the winning chance high..."

"Oh, come on, during that Exile gig, I almost died riding shotgun with her, heartfelt for sure, not naked yet though."

"I got it."

Alonna was very solemn.

"Luckily, I didn't bet much."

She couldn't keep up with the change in the topic's mood; those unfamiliar with her would think she was a bit thick-headed.

"..."

John chuckled bitterly, looked up, and emptied the last sip of canned beer.

"You seem happy?"

"Indeed, haha, someone being interested in me means I'm doing quite well, right? Pretty attractive."

John lifted his arm.

The can dropped into the trash.

[Eden City - Radiant Dust Farm B1]

John bid Alonna farewell, took the sightseeing elevator back to the base of the building.

The West District industrial cityscape shrouded in night had an innate industrial aesthetic—cold, mighty, giant structures overlooking the rise and fall of half the city.

Different from other skyscrapers in the city.

This oversized skyscraper, transformed into a fortress by the farm owner, didn't have a glass curtain wall but retained gray-white walls embedded with giant numbers, sharp lines, and hangings of gray-brown rust stains.

Rumble—

Ding—

The elevator cab opened at the suspended level.

A wave of heat mixed with oil and gunpowder smell hit John's cheek, followed by mechanical roars and vehicle engines engulfing him.

Everywhere were Damascus folks.

Wanderers establishing roots in the city were uncommon.

They usually operated construction projects, scraping by under company territories, then leveraging their migration nature to develop smuggling and cross-border transport businesses.

The Damascus Family had a stroke of bad luck.

First, Exile rose due to the Plato's Warehouse incident, fighting them to the death in the wasteland.

Then, Sora Raqi parachuted into Eden City, splashed cash on obtaining ongoing public projects, snatching the Wanderer's livelihoods.

Until Nando returned, striking up with Radiant Dust Farm.

One organized, with manpower.

The other with resources, money.

Damascus rooted in West District Industrial Park, aiding Radiant Dust Farm to establish a foothold in Eden City.

They also didn't abandon smuggling outside the city, even strengthening control over the wasteland and Border Wall to ensure Radiant Dust Farm's goods moved unobstructed.

As the Wanderers' new boss, the farm owner, he was no simple character.

He didn't just own assets in one city, nor have the backing of a single international giant, Radiant Dust Farm was one of the few super skyscrapers in Eden City, symbolizing solid backing.

As repayment to Damascus.

Resources flowed into the West District via smuggling every day, turning into Wanderers' armored pickup trucks and combat prosthetic bodies.

In a short time of collaboration, Radiant Dust Farm monopolized Eden City's high-end fresh meat market.

Those competitors trying little tricks couldn't match well-fed Wanderers.

Toot toot toot.

The once dilapidated roads were becoming somewhat congested.

John noticed:

As Radiant Dust Farm thrived, some small-scale businesses moved nearby, reviving the once-desolate West District Industrial Park.

Even more shocking...

The farm owner fenced off a territory in the park, undertaking large-scale construction of walls, four giant cold storages, a main road connecting to the pier and ring road, with cars lined up at each unloading zone entrance.

The more John watched, the more frightened he became.

How many people could such a vast territory sustain?

Damascus, as the core security force, no doubt, had transformed from cheap labor into a massive force perched on the city's side.

They were more disciplined than gang members, more united, binding tightly with family ideals, relying on each other.

If coupled with corporate funds and equipment...

It would be Raqi Group and Owl Town, Jingke Heavy Industry and Black Gold Gang, essentially a formed corporate army!

Clink, click.

A cold beer bottle was handed to John's face.

"What are you thinking? Don't zone out!"

Screwdriver smiled as he topped John off with non-alcoholic, waved to raise the electric roller shutter, and in the retreating steam, the fully repaired Silver Rider 577 was parked.

"Tsk, beauty, like new, oh no, even prettier than when she came in!"

Screwdriver ran his hand over it, raising crystalline car paint's honeycomb ripples.

[Street Cred Up, Black Market Unlocked More Goods.]

The Wanderers' vehicle customization skills were definitely top-notch.

Plus, with John's good ties with Damascus, the replaced parts were all solid goods.

You know, Silver Rider 577's crystalline car paint and compatible lightweight metal panels were quite rare, even in the black market, the prices were intimidatingly high!

Screwdriver couldn't help but flaunt to John.

"Back then, assembling a complete set was pretty hard, but you caught the right time, we just pulled off a big one outside the city, tsk-tsk, if you saw the loot list of vehicle parts, it'd guarantee to make you drool into the fuel tank."

Bam.

He closed the hood, extremely excited.

"Plus, I saw you racing yesterday, Palmer's racing dark horse, the unredacted city council's surveillance video circulated wildly, damn, that was thrilling, brother!"

Screwdriver raised the beer bottle to clink with John.

"This repair's on me, I made your brake system polished, but next time you race, remember to drop my name!"

"Haha, alright!"

John didn't hold back, chugged tasteless beer, and settled it on the control panel when sitting back in the cabin.

Bang bang.

Screwdriver gently pat the car frame, bidding farewell.

"Take care of it, and yourself! If you figure things out, remember to call back, Damascus welcomes you anytime, let's join the rally in the wasteland together!"

John slightly turned the steering wheel, shook his thumb through the glass, a silent gesture to Screwdriver.

Industrials' factories, gray streets, kept receding from the window, the city center's black glistening streets sparkled with vibrant life.

Inside the car, only the light tremor of the engine.

The beer bottle's cold dissipated completely, covered with swaying water beads, in a mundane turn, those accumulated water collided, swayed, merging into a collapsing stream.

John ultimately told no one.

He only had five days to live.

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