Red brick exterior, tin dome.

Inside, by the window, there's an iron staircase, with grimy glass windows on the upper level.

Iron hooks and pulleys hang from the ceiling.

The hall is divided into several work areas, with workbenches and hoisting equipment, and the vehicle that just attacked John originally parked against this side of the wall.

The thick smoke from the gap in the wall cleared away.

A cyber lunatic emerged from the driver's seat, covered in tattoos and heavily modified—his head shaved and studded with rows of metal spikes, his entire face replaced by a sunken metal mask, and his glowing red prosthetic eyes still rotating.

This isn't the style of the Owl Town gang.

"Tsk, fuck you!"

He instantly expressed disdain towards John.

[Wow, the level of modification is incredible, damn it...how can someone survive transformed like this without becoming a cyber lunatic? Uh, John, do you know him?]

Sora queried in his mind.

"This guy is a Ghoul, a bunch of sneak attackers, I don't have a good relationship with them, but the guy in the car, I truly have no impression of."

John swung around his rifle, not using the precious original depleted uranium bullets, but switched from his tactical belt to explosive rounds—fragmentation embedded with blood pollutants, specially targeting such heavily modified enemies.

The Triangular Maple can accommodate all high-grade rifle bullets commonly available on the market, with magazines of varying models that can hold different specifications of ammo.

Ghoul struggled, the deformed car door jamming his driver's seat, and he failed to break free, instead pulling out a revolver from his side.

John fired first.

Bang!

A layer of blood mist instantly sprayed from the armored vehicle.

The body went silent.

"John, you bastard, still dare to step into our territory?"

"I'm going to make you into canned meat!"

An angry roar came from the breach in the wall.

Peeking over, you'll see bright red prosthetic eyes flashing on both the upper and lower levels.

Bang, bang bang...

Flames erupted, and shotgun blasts poured towards John's position as if they cost nothing.

"Fuck!"

John couldn't escape yet; outside, there were gang members searching for him.

He could only tuck his head and dive into a gap in the wall, seeking cover, while insults and a torrent of bullets filled the air, a strong scent of blood snaked into his nostrils, accompanied by a foul and greasy smell.

[That smell is intense.]

Sora took over John's body, and even had the leisure to pop up an emptied health bar in his vision.

[My turn, my turn! You getting bombed counts as a life used!]

John let out a wry smile, not resisting, as this mission was initially meant for the AI to experience the new gun.

Not satisfied with the car chase, just as well that the enemy presented themselves as targets.

Click, click.

Kenichi Sora manipulated John's body, rapidly adapting to the firearm, performing two sets of inspection actions in succession, muttering to himself in his head.

[Wow, still shooting, brother, they really hate you.]

The gunfire never stopped.

Shotgun pellets fell like sandblasting behind the cover, besides orange sparks, also churning out thin black iron fragments.

Sora, like an impatient child, didn't silly poke his head out, but dual-threaded and hacked into the building's surveillance system.

The buildings near the riverbank on Sakura Cross Street were basically crime scenes.

Sora curiously switched the cameras.

He saw blood-stained conveyor belts, temporary surgical tables partitioned with plastic sheeting, and the unfortunate soul lying on the bed, dead with open eyes. Instantly, he understood what kind of 'business' these people were in.

[Wow, truly gruesome, how did you get tangled with them?]

"It's a long story, I've had a few dealings with the Ghouls, killed a boss who turned exile, cleaned up the city's trash a few times, and the most recent encounter involved a deal with a certain leader, then did a double cross and got stabbed through."

John shook his head with a bitter smile.

His prosthetic eyes received the surveillance feed sent by Sora.

"Damn it, I've basically left no survivors, but these scumbags seem to talk to corpses, word always gets out quickly, making my relationship with them increasingly worse."

[Well, brother, that's another meaning of reputation.]

The gunfire didn't cease.

Shotgun shells clattered to the ground.

The cover John hid behind looked like rebar sliced by a power saw, fiery golden sparks flying everywhere.

Sora continued to inquire about details, showing no sense of urgency.

Having seen many big scenes, swallowed quite a few tough to chew bones, the garbage in front of him really was not worthy.

They wore dirty work clothes, oily aprons, the exposed parts of their prosthetic bodies gleamed with rough welding marks.

Most of their weapons were assembled pistols and shotguns, the only decent ones being a few Rongju submachine guns, devoid of proper attachments.

Even the ammo was fucking handcrafted.

There was nothing resembling decent protection.

Sora finally waited for a reload pause.

A brief moment when curses drowned out the gunfire.

It initiated Sianweistan and darted out from cover, moving like a fading shadow, darting and rolling a few steps amongst the piled debris.

Triangular Maple's scope instantly activated.

Several Ghouls whose positions had been locked by the surveillance were highlighted, the parts hidden behind cover were outlined in red.

Sora, sliding, fired several shots in a row.

Ghouls were turned into Swiss cheese in succession.

John let the AI handle it, and settled down to appreciate the new gun.

Triangular Maple's accelerated barrel was very stable.

It had been customized with DIY "etching" on the East District black market. Rather than a typical rifle's dry crack, it emitted a unique, low, brief, and penetrating "hum" when firing.

Explosive rounds tore through the Ghouls' cheap jackets.