Chapter 55: Chapter 55: The Boxer and the Godfather
John didn’t have any fatal injuries.
After using the medicine, he even went to the locker room on his own, washed his face, took off his blood-stained clothes, and checked the bruises and cuts all over his body in the mirror.
"Posing for a picture? Want some oil on you?"
Gino handed over new clothes. "Just bought from the mall earlier, Dan Street can’t keep secrets, word’s already out that you took out Hoffman."
Macao was on the phone.
Gino came over to help John, picking up a gel spray to treat the cuts on his back.
She walked into the men’s bath with no psychological burden, sometimes meeting boxers who didn’t know the rules or spouted crude jokes, she’d mercilessly critique their tools.
[Equipment: White synthetic fiber industrial tank top]
John put on the clothes, rinsing the blood from his mouth.
Whoosh—
"Killing was Vito’s idea; I didn’t plan on being a hero."
"I know, everyone knows, the main thing is those bastards are gone. Several girls at the Sex Doll Club were beaten up and sent to the prosthetic doctor for urgent repairs because they refused service... all the Germans including Hoffman have been blacklisted in the Red Light District, they can only find work on the streets, no one thought something like yesterday would happen... f*cking hell."
Gino stood in front of the mirror washing the blood off her hands.
John looked at the bandage site before putting on his clothes, couldn’t help but praise. "Wow, you handled my wounds quite well."
"The boxing club has no shortage of practice materials, got it down just by watching. Maybe if the shop goes under, I can switch careers to become a prosthetic doctor."
"I think hacking has more potential for you."
"Thank you, John, but don’t let my brother hear that, he thinks soaking in the network is too dangerous." Gino stood in front of the mirror, leaning on the counter without saying a word. "Macao said he’s waiting for you at the bar across the street, go on over."
John picked up his bag and stood up, noticing Gino’s somewhat forlorn back, he asked.
"You seem pretty down... are you okay?"
"One of the girls who died at the alley was someone I got along with, she lent me money when I bought my first linkage pod, everyone liked to daydream. Damn it, if you hadn’t killed Hoffman, I’d probably have done it myself."
Gino turned and leaned on the counter, pulling out an e-cigarette.
John didn’t disturb her, patted her shoulder.
He went over to the bar across the street and sat next to Macao. A hot barmaid placed beers in front of them.
The girl didn’t rush to leave, her eyes nakedly implying:
"I’ll be off work soon, John."
Before leaving, she touched John’s chest.
Macao, holding his beer, teased him with a smile: "Pretty overwhelming, right? But that’s how it is after you make a name for yourself on the street. More and more girls can accurately call your name, even if you see her for the first time, you can seamlessly hold her in your arms."
"I thought you had serious matters for me."
"Chicks, money, fame, every one of them is important." Macao shook his head and drank. "Mr. Vito called me, said if you’re willing... to let me be your manager, arrange for you to fight on stage."
"Is there money in it?"
"Isn’t that a given, and a lot of it too."
"Ah, I’ve seen it." John was indifferent. "Without the Mantis Blade and monomolecular wire, just getting their heads bashed in with fists."
"The wildness is what’s romantic; respect is earned from fighting, rest assured, the big share is yours, I just take a commission, won’t let you waste time on fake matches."
Macao seemed to have a special expectation for John.
After all, he could take out Hoffman, not caring about the specifics, his strength was definitely not in question.
"In special events, the organizers might even put the top prosthetics up for grabs as incentives, all custom high-end stuff not flowing through normal channels."
Macao held John’s glass seriously asking him.
"If you want to become a big figure, are you going to install well-distributed mature products in your body that have been around for years, or choose explosively exceptional and unique gems?"
Macao had trophy tattoos on his prosthetic limbs and arms.
He seemed to be a boxing enthusiast.
"Once you fight your way through Bolago Club, go conquer Eden City, the entire underworld will cheer for you, the city walls will bear giant sprays of you... imagine what that scene would be like!"
"You make a hell of an enthusiastic coach."
John shrugged.
"But why does it have to be me?"
"Mr. Vito thinks highly of you, although he hasn’t said it outright, we can all feel it. He hopes you get closer with the gang, inviting you to be a part-time boxer is a way to support you."
"With me made a manager, what about your boxing club?"
"Do you really have the time to hang in a boxing club every day fighting? Don’t kid me, John, I know your time is precious, boxing is just a pastime. When you need to compete, I’ll liaise with the venue and organizers, it won’t cost much effort."
"I heard from Vito you also train new boxers, what about them?"
John seemed to have hit a sore spot for Macao.
His demeanor instantly dimmed significantly, raising his beer bottle to drink a big gulp.
"These kids failed, lost their spirit, Vito assigned them to the frontline, to assist in the gang’s most dangerous businesses, those most likely to get hurt and die."
"I didn’t expect that’s how it would be handled."
"A collapsing wall only needs a bomb, but rebuilding it is complicated. They were prepared to commit themselves both physically and mentally to this path, there’s nothing to complain about."
John clinked glasses with him, added more drinks and snacks.
"Do you blame Vito, thinking he’s too harsh, or should give these young boxers more time and leniency."
"How could I... look around."
Macao turned his body, resting his arm on the bar.
In the mall, customers came and went, public facilities were intact, gangs patrolled every venue day and night.
"Everyone has great respect for Mr. Vito, understand? As a Speaker, he can spend money to rescue a naive girl, provide legal and stable job opportunities, and certainly has the power to decide the fates of many."
Macao’s perspective on Vito differed from John’s.
"He’s a Speaker, he considers many things."
"True enough."
Once full and satisfied, John got up to go home. "I have no objections to the boxing thing, contact me about the details later."
"Sure, take care of yourself."
Macao bumped fists with him as they bid farewell.
[Series mission ring: Out of Control Wild Dog (Completed)]
[Reward: Payment, Butterfly Knife SOCP [Isaac Military Industry]]
John entered the elevator inside Dan Street Apartment, contemplating about the boxing match.
He agreed to fight, more than just for the money and special prosthetics, it was to hone his reflexes and close combat skills.
Can’t just stand like a fool getting beaten after losing his gun, right?
The elevator was slowly ascending.
John was holding a bag in one hand containing weapons and spoils, while the Butterfly Knife was flipping and dancing deftly in the other hand—the doctor was right, with a chip and advanced prosthetic body, this could be quite a show.
Ding—
[Third Floor - Shared Rental Area]
The elevator door suddenly opened.
A purple-haired girl blocked the button panel, trapping John inside.
"Are you busy?"
"I thought you guys were off to work."
"I’m at work, Mr. Vito paid a good amount to have me serve you."
The purple-haired girl pointed to her head. "Custom-made personal chip, nothing from tonight will be left here unless you want to continue next time."
She reached out and grasped John’s arm, pointing the Butterfly Knife at her own chest.
The sharp blade cut off the strap, and the white artificial leather emitted a tempting sheen.
"Killing Hoffman was just a mission, don’t paint me as the nice guy."
The girl unflinchingly threw off her coat, standing boldly in front of John, she raised her head to meet his gaze and asked:
"Are we just gonna stand here?"
"F*ck!"