Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Heart-to-Heart
John casually asked:
"Can you share anything about this job? Uh, if it’s a trade secret... just pretend I didn’t ask."
Eden poured a cup of coffee at the self-service bar, emotionless, and said indifferently:
"Plato has collaborated on a project with Gaia Cells, a big one. They’re claiming internally that it’s an epoch-making technology."
Whenever he talked about the company, he was always dismissive, seemingly disdainful of corporate giants.
"The cyber-psychosis attack on the warehouse a couple of days ago wasn’t a simple robbery. The out-of-control lunatic is linked to this technology. Now, both Plato and Gaia Cells are recovering stolen goods and covering up incidents."
"Is it that serious?"
"You know, Harbor has a good relationship with SAT (Special Event Handling Action Team), and the body of that cyber-psychotic was dissected. They found many unregistered implants. The two companies are sneaking around, and they’ve requested to retrieve the body multiple times. This sample seems crucial to them."
Eden shared so much information with John because he trusted him to keep his mouth shut.
"The person I’m dealing with is called Bismarck, officially a director of Plato’s tech department but secretly a legal cyber-psycho."
Eden looked at John seriously and said.
"Don’t provoke him easily."
More than Bismarck, he was curious why John was reluctant to undergo upgrades at Harbor.
"Our military doctor has been to two battlefields. Privately speaking, even some political bigwigs pay high fees to have him perform surgeries."
Yet John shook his head and said:
"It’s not about the technology... It’s, uh, a psychological issue. I almost had my organs removed by a doctor once, so now I have a phobia of unfamiliar operating rooms, but I have a familiar doctor."
Eden didn’t insist and added:
"It’s a good thing to have a trustworthy doctor in Eden City; it’s luckier than winning a dead man’s lottery on TV. Take care of yourself; I’ll notify you of the next mission in advance."
[Mission: Obstacle (Completed)]
[Reward: Alloy Skeleton, Suresh CQC7.5 Version (Chip), Raqi Industry - Ranger (Chip)]
John walked out of the company.
The morning sky was glaringly bright.
He had just been wandering around Bolago last night, not expecting to be roped into working by Eden.
Since this was on the same skyline as the East District Commercial Street, John, for once, didn’t take his Silver Rider out but traveled through the city’s air tracks by hovercar.
Sunlight streamed through the car windows.
John carried a backpack slung over his shoulder with one hand, holding onto the handrail, swaying along with the morning rush passengers, when a notice suddenly flashed before his eyes.
[Scan detected, no signs of intrusion.]
He naturally yawned, switched arms holding the handrail, and glanced around, catching sight of a few suspiciously acting thieves.
These days, eyeballs with X-ray vision are common; it’s easy to spot what’s in John’s bag.
On the contrary, someone like John, carrying a high-tech prosthetic while riding public transport, is an anomaly. To thieves, it’s like money being tossed on the street, unclaimed.
John smiled at them.
The young men turned their heads away.
The anticipated confrontation didn’t happen. He reached the East District underground mall without incident. On reflection, it made sense: those savvy enough to survive on the streets know the difference, and those flaunting wealth fall into two categories...
The foolish, and those you can’t mess with.
John found the doctor, dropped off his alloy arm, grabbed a bottle of brandy from the table, and reclined on the operating chair to wait.
Ryan Randall donned auxiliary equipment and started replacing his prosthetic while chatting.
The atmosphere wasn’t exactly warm, as the equipment and environment couldn’t compare to Harbor’s.
But it exuded a certain sense of security. With the pain nerve blocking turned on, it even made him a bit sleepy.
Replacing the arm required cutting through the old synthetic skin, bypassing nerves and blood vessels, and connecting to the central system, rendering the scene a bit bloody.
Yet, in the Cyber Era, it was just a minor surgery.
How many in Eden City can afford official institution fees? Street corner prosthetic doctors are the best option.
Worse off...
Like Ghouls and Exiles, and unscrupulous shady dealers, could even complete similar surgeries in sewage-dripping gutters.
"You seem troubled, kid. Having some tough luck lately?"
"Doctor, can I trust you?" John asked. "I really need someone to talk to right now."
"When I was at Nocturne Bar, I’d often hear similar lines. Of course, not directed at me, but those who started conversations with heartfelt words usually ended up in bed."
"Fuck you!"
"You’re pretty spirited when your mouth stinks."
Ryan always had a slouched, disheveled appearance. This bald, overweight middle-aged man seemed to have lost his spirit, though what he’d been through was a mystery.
"Do you remember the night you saved me?"
He laid it out straight to John.
"Your data line connected to the clinic’s system. Honestly, I don’t know what methods you used, but this clinic has probably been hacked by you, just like at Nocturne, right?"
John guiltily pursed his lips.
[Clinic central control system (Hacked)]
He couldn’t control Black Light, but the doctor was right.
Ryan sighed, "You only hacked the system, didn’t do anything else, and you always pay when you come for consults."
"Sorry, doctor, I can’t explain."
"No need to explain; I’m pretty open about it. The system has scanned three or four times and found nothing suspicious. Unless you admit it yourself, I can’t be sure. Does it really matter now?"
Ryan Randall removed the auxiliary mechanical arm, grabbed John’s bottle, and drank from it.
"In a way, my livelihood is in your hands. Just hope you don’t turn into some street scum. Otherwise, I’d have to pack up and escape again."
The doctor sighed.
"So what are you babbling about secrets, future, worries... Honestly, I don’t give a damn, but only those who don’t care can open up."
The surgery was nearing completion, leaving just the mechanical arm work.
"Nocturne taught me a lesson: In Eden City, if you’re opening up to someone, you’re either after their body or their life. After seeing enough betrayals, even carnal transactions seem like true love."
"Thanks for the warning."
John relaxed and lay limp on the operating chair, letting the mechanical arm sew and cut on his arm.
He took the time to recount the events to the doctor, including the previous transport accident at Tiebang Logistics.
But as soon as he started...
John suddenly found himself unable to recall too many details about his last drive at Tiebang Logistics; just the usual driving, robbery, big explosions, gunfights, deaths, waking up in the hospital and then getting kicked out of the company.
Ryan shrugged after listening.
"Alright, go ahead and try."
He genuinely didn’t care, switching topics immediately and shifting the equipment aside, explaining:
"Need me to recommend a suitable built-in chip? Good hardware also needs matching software; street punks can fit a chip and flaunt with a butterfly knife, but your new arm can do much more."
John took out the good stuff Eden gave him.
The doctor grabbed the chips from the table and inserted them one by one into the host—no matter where the chips came from, they must pass through a scanner first to ensure they’re clean before being inserted into the neck.
"John, I don’t know what methods you used, but symptoms of cyber-psychosis last time were indeed deadly. So be cautious when you act, should you turn into a lunatic and make the news, Eden would contact his Special Action Team pals to blow you to bits."
The chip scan was clear, with no issues.
John hesitated to upgrade at Harbor for another reason—Black Light affects anything physically connected to him.
He picked one and inserted it into his neck.
[Data loading, download complete.]
The chip is a hallmark of the Cyber Era.
It compresses skills into small hardware through technology; youngsters can transform into kung-fu superstars with a chip, executing beautiful spin kicks.
Human uniqueness is further eroded, with talent and training outcomes becoming copyable data.