Sandalwood has grain

Chapter 43: Involuntary Labor

Chapter 43: Chapter 43: Involuntary Labor


Alloy RCH sped into Dan Street.


It flew over the slope, landing heavily on the ground, with a long, sharp screech coming from the parking lot.


Cameras turned in unison.


The entire basement security was focused on him, and a customer coming down from the club was almost knocked over by the speeding motorcycle, causing chaos around.


A guy sitting on a luxury car hood, caressing a hot girl, started cursing after being disturbed.


"Sh*t! Have you drunk too much?"


"Watch the road, you damn idiot!"


...


Alloy Door A31 opened.


John dismounted and vomited up stomach acid.


The mechanical arm overhead began moving, washing bloodstains off the motorcycle and refueling it according to the package John purchased...


There were also cameras in the garage, but John, clinging to the last bit of rationality, avoided exposing his secrets as he grabbed a hose and drenched his head.


The icy, bone-chilling solution mixed with detergent seeped into his bulletproof vest, soaking through his shirt and jacket.


John’s body temperature soared dramatically.


He couldn’t remember how he got onto the elevator or passed through the hallway; it seemed a variety of people swept past his eyes until he collapsed onto the living room floor.


John ensured his surroundings were safe before pulling out a Special Inhibitor and inserting it into his neck.


[Clearing redundancy, calibration complete.]


"Ah, sh*t!"


John arched his body as though injected with adrenaline.


The terrifying hallucinations quickly faded from his vision.


It was as if a drowning man had surfaced for air.


Scenes of him dismembering thugs kept flashing in his mind, the feel of the alloy blades slicing through flesh making him nauseous.


John stood under the showerhead.


The water curtain was turned to the maximum.


Whoosh—


He gasped for air, washing off the bloodstains, wiping away the fog on the mirror to meet his own gaze.


"You’re not a pervert... right?"


The person in the mirror gave no answer.


The washing machine was tumbling dirty clothes, free blues downloaded from the radio played through the speakers, and the column projector was on standby, cycling through various company product information.


It was raining in Eden City, and getting heavier.


John lay down on a bed with a soft carpet and thick padding, resting his newly replaced alloy arm under his head, and fell into a deep sleep.


The nighttime radio began to broadcast.


[Shuffle your ass, junkie, it’s time to wake up, I’m your best Roy, open your eyes and take a look at this goddamn city...]


John retrieved his dried clothes.


His mental state had recovered significantly, his thoughts were no longer chaotic, and after a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly pulled up his contacts to send a message to the Tie Clip.


The coffee machine beeped.


As John picked up a cup, he received a call.


[Tie Clip: Good evening, John, why do you need Tiebang Logistics’ employee information?]


"Is it necessary to dig into the details?"


[Certainly not, a middleman understands confidentiality, but you’re not my client, John. I only serve those idiots in skyscrapers earning top salaries, and you, you’re a smart guy.]


"Haha, well said, not interested in doing business with me?"


[There are many types of business, stealing company information consumes a lot of network relationships, and many nodes need to be smoothed out to avoid worries.]


"Name a price?"


[You can’t afford it...]


The Tie Clip sighed and patiently explained.


[No offense meant, and don’t hang up just yet. Put yourself in my shoes, those connections can earn me a lot of money, give me leverage with all kinds of dirt, even save a life at a critical moment, and how much profit could I realistically squeeze out of you?]


"Sorry for bothering you, just text me next time, you’re wasting my time on the phone."


[Don’t be hasty, John, I sense you have a strange bias against me. Clarifying the stakes is beneficial for both of us, and my calling you means I’m willing to help.]


"What do you mean?"


[I don’t want to make money off you; I’m more inclined to a win-win collaboration... I need some time to get what you want, and in the meantime, you help me handle some troubles from an employer, rest assured, you will be paid, I never shortchange anyone.]


John couldn’t think of a better plan for now. In reality, he called to inquire about the price, but he’s been spending crazily recently, and has no money left.


"Alright then, got any jobs now?"


[There really is one, I got a client who ordered something from the Exile, I’ll send you the coordinates later, help me get it back alive.]


"Alive? What thing..."


[You’ll find out, sweetheart, the specifics will be delivered to your downstairs shortly.]


The Tie Clip sounded playful, definitely not saying anything nice, laughed twice, and hung up.


The Cabinet once said:


The Tie Clip is a middleman operating with the company’s management, getting employee information can be a big or small deal, finding him for the solution is the most reliable and economical way.


John couldn’t think of any other leads at the moment either.


[Task Objective Update]


[Help the Tie Clip handle the employer’s troubles before he gets the information. (Not Achieved)]


An update flashed before John’s eyes.


This was the first main mission progress update, indicating that he’s finally moving in a direction, suggesting that the Tie Clip might indeed get him what he wants.


John got up, donned his gear, and selected his weapons.


Lately, he’s been using the tech rifle Zebra GUB, and picking up the fully equipped short-crocodile felt more comfortable, maybe because his arm’s strength boost improved his control over kinetic weapons.


Another important factor—the price of electromagnetic bullets is a bit steep, and he’s currently broke, so being frugal is more practical.


John packed up neatly, but he hadn’t received any messages by dawn and decided to go downstairs for some food.


He exited the elevator, the night shift workers were already home, gathering to complain and chat.


The girl smoking beside the overhead layer grinned at John, tipping her chin up.


"Stud, sobered up or came off the meds?"


"You looked really impressive coming back yesterday, motherf*cker."


The Black Gold Gang thugs were grouped together lifting iron, with a sound system blasting rap next to them, the leader gestured at John.


"Yo, bro, you broke off a tycoon’s sports car tail fin in the VIP area last night and scared his chick."


John looked completely puzzled, "F*ck, did that happen?"


"The surveillance caught it all clearly... that dumbass made it known he’s gonna kill you, but Mr. Vito stepped in and smoothed it out for you."


"I’ll personally go thank him once I’m done."


"Mhm, watch your dose, don’t overdose and crash on the road."


"Thanks, man."


John stepped closer to bump fists and shoulders — having spent a lot of time on the Black Gold Gang’s turf recently, he picked up some greeting skills.


He didn’t expect last night’s episode to completely blank him out, possibly caused by intense emotional shock leading to fragmented memories.


[Dan Street - Food Plaza]


In the Cyberpunk era, the center of farm economics shifted towards fuel, with coarse-ground food and synthetic products dominating the civilian market.


Even though what goes in the mouth is almost like sawdust, the lower class still squeezes out every bit of creativity to satisfy their cravings.


John sat in front of a street stall, with his back to the advertisement projection.


He crushed the last half-piece of a sweet sauce burger ball into his mouth, drank half a functional beverage, and got up to head to the underground garage.


In front of sign A31 was a package.


John grabbed the item and walked into his garage, standing in front of a metal table surrounded by light strips, he emptied the contents.


Four heavy objects wrapped in oil paper rolled out.


[Item: Mixed Fresh Meat]


[Weight: 20kg*4]


[Producer: Kolonkansi Bi Ranch]


John found the items before him peculiar and puzzling—the average Eden City resident only eats fresh meat once or twice a year.


There was also a Funds Card placed in the package.


The Tie Clip called with a task update at this point.


[John, got the stuff?]


"You could arrange for delivery to my door, so couldn’t you just bring money to the Exile for a trade?"


John was particularly wary of the Tie Clip.


"Make it clear, I don’t want to be the sucker."