"You know?"

Jilead held a cigar, folded his arms, and turned his head to chat with John.

"Gang wars are staged."

Street fights are just small scuffles.

Last week, things escalated.

Initially, the Black Gold Gang and Xiao Ting Gang fiercely fought over smuggling businesses near the border, with burning cars and corpses littering the suburban highways.

Meanwhile.

Both sides were recruiting allies with deep pockets.

Jingke Heavy Industry and Raftaki Group spent huge Euros to bribe border troops, invest in Wanderers of the wasteland, win city councilors, sponsor patrolling ECPD...

The effect wasn't ideal.

Especially the cops, surprisingly firm.

Colonels from several district police stations reached a consensus, unwilling to provoke either side, pretending to patrol daily, keeping neutral, hoping both gangs shoot each other's vitals.

The death rate among gang members is rising.

The casualty rate of ECPD officers is declining.

The political failures made both sides realize they should try some primitive business methods.

So they targeted each other's business.

Now, the fighters raised by the Black Gold Gang are dead.

At a critical time in the quarterly finals.

Jilead couldn't describe the impact to John, only saying a huge amount of gambling funds was evaporating, countless Euros disappearing in the black chain.

The Black Gold Gang did have thoughts.

But Xiao Ting Gang struck first and executed beautifully.

"Now it's our turn."

He pressed the cigar hard against the railing, throwing the smoking stub into the audience.

John keenly caught a hint of a roar.

But a heavy punch on stage happened just in time.

Kanmer's fighter spat blood and fell.

The audience exploded instantly, like boiling oil mixed with water, screams and cheers made the whole arena vibrate.

The roar of the unlucky guy was drowned out.

John retreated from the handrail, feeling pain in his eardrums, a sensation of the world enveloped by noise, even suspecting he was experiencing tinnitus.

He couldn't imagine:

What kind of slow stew those Gambler guys below were going through.

John's body was very sensitive.

He also knew that the boxing arena, like a casino, releases certain trace substances into the ventilation ducts to keep customers in sync in a slightly high state.

John proactively inquired about the work.

"So, Bone Shards asked me to come here to take out those assassins?"

"A bunch of impulsive guys mean nothing."

Jilead shook his head.

"We've prepared too, wherever they make a move, we cut a hole in the same place."

Jilead waved his fingers, sending the task email.

It contained a specific address.

"The necessary investigation is done, and with you here, the rest will be handled by professional mercenaries."

Among the killers invading the West District, there is a special guy.

[Alek Tanner].

He's not an Eastern People, but a street racer who garnered fame in the underground world through illegal races.

The mastermind behind Xiao Ting Gang is the Raftaki Group.

They hired Alek, demanding him to win the race at Sakura Cross Street, promoting their soon-to-release [Glaive II] prototype motorcycle.

"Kill him, blow up that motorcycle."

[Mission Target Update]

[Intercept Alek Tanner.]

John figured out the mission and bid farewell to Jilead.

He left the Bolago Club, ensuring the air no longer had that faint scent, then took a deep breath.

"Why are you so silent?"

John promptly asked.

Central boxing ring of Bolago Club.

The highest specification arena in Eden City, yet Kenichi Sora managed not to speak?

[I'm dying of curiosity!]

Sora, like a compressed spring, held back for long and was sparked by John's words.

[Look at that spotlight, it's all alive down there, at least two thousand or three thousand in the audience, right? And these are just the rich ones here physically, the black market streaming channels are packed, with plenty betting on you... Oh my!]

John's ear tips started to burn.

On a physical level.

Because the data transmission in the chip slot really generates heat.

"Can't you even fart?"

[Because you might really die.]

Martyr GTX's countdown isn't precise.

John won't die at the instant the timer ends but may start losing consciousness, his body going out of control, with irreversible disintegration of consciousness and cell tissues before then.

Three days is a theoretical number.

Mercenary activities and gunfire will accelerate this process.

So John must undergo neural ark treatment before sunrise in two days, preparing in a hospital bed for surgery, ensuring a smooth procedure.

[Limited time, only two choices.]

Sora knew the central arena needed enough points.

John didn't have the time to accumulate them, just enough to complete the commission.

[Let's finish this task, wander around the city, then we'll go treat the illness with peace of mind.]

"You really love fighting."

John understood.

Sora is into it.

In the [Cyber Era], it's a full-achievement fighter, treating the leaderboard as its toy, even handling cheating players personally.

Sora's core algorithms are all about action prediction, born for this.

It held back.

Decided to follow the original plan to complete the task, avoiding impacting John's treatment outcome.

"After my surgery, I'll take you from the points match to the central ring, no problem, consider it extra from me."

[Might not have time then.]

"True, you gotta work for the company, they won't let wandering AI outside."

Buzz—

The pitch-black Alloy RCH steadily stopped in front.

John mounted the motorcycle, inserted the submachine gun on both sides, with the Triangular Maple rifle on his back.

He waved his fingers.

Coordinates in the email synchronized to the navigation system.

Then John smiled.

"Lift your head, don't act like a lost little kid, we have other options."

[What's that?]

"Time is tight, we'll finish the task ahead, do a neat job, satisfy the employer, then we can go further, get Bone Shards to arrange a chance in the ring!"

[…Will this work?]

Sora seemed uncertain.

But emotion visibly heightened.

"Pal, I'm a professional mercenary, this is my livelihood."

John opened the email information.

According to Black Gold Gang intelligence:

The reason Alek Tanner participated in the fighter assassination incident was to please the Eastern People, exchanging for the Raftaki Group contract.

He is now riding the [Glaive II], racing wildly in the illegal races at Sakura Cross Street.

As per original plan.

John would wait for Alek to finish the race, then shoot him on the way to the Sex Doll Club, and blow up the motorcycle.

This drags till evening.

"Let's go now, take him down during the race."

The basic mission is like this.

To gain extra points, the difficulty must be raised.

"Can't do remote sniping, during the race, in front of others, kill him, humiliating Xiao Ting Gang, turning this motorcycle into a joke."

[Mission Target Update]

[Intercept Alek Tanner. (Not Achieved)]

[Complete During Race. (Optional)]

John gently patted the Alloy RCH beneath him.

"Such a pity, should've found a middleman, got Eisenberg's top executives to pay me an ad fee."

Vehicle manufacturing companies are all arch-enemies.

They are willing to pay.

Bone Shards, as an employer, is surely very satisfied too.

Then we can go further!

[Love you, buddy, let's head out now!]

Sora is fully revived.

It took over John's body, connected the smart control system, revved the engine heading to the cross-district bridge.