My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 137: Deflated Skin
Scissors rushed over and snatched the microphone from the female reporter, and angrily accused Plato of stealing the design draft and driving the lower-class people crazy...

He shouted heart-wrenchingly, and in just a few words he outlined Edward's story.

The police officer on duty came over shaking his head, and several people snatched the microphone away and kindly reminded him.

"There's a crime called defamation of a company, you know?"

"I have fucking evidence. Scipios' best-selling Kafe series were all designed by us. The original manuscript is only a part of it. I have all the rest!"

The scissors are going crazy.

The death of his brother made him lose the last bit of his dignity. He showed his fangs and claws in front of the camera without considering the possible retaliation.

John prepared to rescue.

Unexpectedly, the female reporter was faster than him.

Her eyes lit up the moment she heard the evidence. She persuaded Scissors to calm down and showed her work ID for the "Cyber ​​Night Talk" column.

"Are you sure you have evidence? Damn it, don't snatch it. I can fucking put you on TV and confront the executives of Plato Company. I'll make you the front page of tomorrow's news!"

John observed for a moment and said nothing.

He quietly left the scene, rode his bike through the city, and waited for the traffic lights on the busy and noisy streets.

The movements of most people in the city were not affected in the slightest.

Almost all the cyber maniacs who die at the hands of SAT every day have a story similar to Edward's, but the busy citizens have no time to listen.

If the person who appeared in the store today was not John, but another skilled mercenary...

He might kill Edward instantly on the spot, not knowing the meaning of the cyber madman's last mutterings, nor how pathetic Edward's obsession and hallucinations were.

He wouldn't be as irritable as John is now.

The motorcycle roared beneath his hands, and the soaring numbers on the dashboard did not calm him or scare him. The vehicle fuel seemed to burn in his chest.

But John didn't know who this anger was directed at.

He urgently needs a release point now.

The Alloy RCH drew a black drift path on the road, accompanied by the harsh sound of burning tires. Ordinary citizens and passing gang members looked at him with fear.

John called Barry.

"Help me find out what fashion brand the Plato executive, Kafi Kro, in the clothing design department, is associated with."

Barry on the other end of the phone fell silent.

[You have done your best, John. No matter what your connection is with that unfortunate fellow, he is dead now. It will not make any difference to him no matter how big a deal you make of it.]

"I'm sure you'll understand."

[What the hell? ]

"I want to find a guy who deserves this and shoot him in the head."

John parked on the side of the road with a cold look in his eyes, staring at the gangsters while talking on the phone. He even expected someone to come and cause trouble or snatch his motorcycle, but instead they picked up their speakers and walked away silently.

"I upgraded my prosthetic body to keep myself in a good mood, and that beast affected that."

【I reject. 】

Barry spoke slowly and steadily.

[Acting on your own emotions and letting others take risks, do you know what it means to assassinate a company executive? I answered the phone as a friend, but you want to talk about the ECPD lieutenant colonel, so the topic ends here. ]

John gradually calmed down.

He had come into contact with the state police and Olaus, and he knew that any disturbance in the power struggle would have a series of consequences.

"Then let's talk about this as a business."

John said businesslike.

"You must have a target you want to deal with, one that you know deserves to die but can't do anything about. Tell me the name and details, and the problem will be solved."

Barry chuckled and fell silent again.

John was certain that this guy would agree. Just based on his wavering moral bottom line, he would probably have to make a long list of people that he would normally be unable to clear out.

Barry can lead the black police to do things, but there must be profit sharing and forced compromises involved.

Sometimes it is not as convenient as being a lone wolf.

[Okay, I'm moved. I'll contact you later. ]

The phone hangs up.

John returned to his Danny Street apartment and washed the ashes off his body and hair.

Night falls on time.

Neon lights penetrate the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining a colorful splendor against the dark blue background. From time to time, sirens and advertisements can be heard, and then quietly fade away amid the roar of flight equipment.

The city of Eden is awakening.

There was no light in the apartment, the smell of coffee was wafting in the air, and the night radio was playing cheesy jokes to warm up the room.

The washing machine hums.

The workshop was filled with incendiary magazines.

John stood in the light blue halo, wearing a vest, silently disassembling and maintaining his firearms.

[Contact - Barry Kitt [unread message]]

[Watch Cyber ​​Night Talk's live broadcast. Kafi Kro is being interrogated on the show. The vehicle he was riding in and the license plate number are in the attachment. I also happen to know when he left the studio...]

John waved to call up the monitor.

Cyber ​​Night Talk is the most popular talk show in Eden City.

The organizers intend to expand the impact of the event, and the screens in the streets and shopping malls with explosive traffic are all trying to attract traffic.

Company executives stole manuscripts and drove the talented designer crazy.

The class conflicts and the violent incidents in Chengxin Plaza caught the public's curiosity, and the media deliberately mentioned them, bringing Plato's now-defunct Kafe series back into the public eye.

The host was deliberately exaggerating the hostility.

Real-time voting data shows:

A large number of citizens supported Edward's revenge. He was forced to become a cyberpsychopath, as if he was a microcosm of countless people in the city.

Public outrage, confrontation, and reckoning!
The popularity of Cyber ​​Night Talk tonight is unprecedented.

Kafi Kro was forced to sit still and feel uncomfortable. He straightened his suit and waved his hand to interrupt the live broadcast, but no one paid attention. His elite mask began to crack, and his smile became more and more forced...

The popularity of live TV broadcasts reached its peak.

The story of Edward and the scissors has been sorted out, with the truth and details slightly edited, enough to make the citizens lose their minds, and the screen begins to show the costume designs one by one.

The design department assistant occasionally talks back.

Kafei Kro suddenly became silent.

He just sat there with a gloomy face and accepted the abuse. No matter how serious the situation was, he could not evacuate, as if someone was holding a gun to his lower back and forcing him into the studio.

The evidence began to play.

The new draft of the scissors was unveiled for the first time, and even a layman who doesn’t understand fashion knows that they were designed by the same designer.

The picture was cut off after just two pictures were played.

Plato’s senior management dropped by the scene and said that they would verify the draft and assess Scissors’ creative ability later.

If this is true...

Plato will pay a huge compensation, establish a scholarship fund in Edward's name, and invite Scissors to join the Scipios brand.

Cyber ​​Night Talk is coming to an end.

[Mission target update]

[Protect the scissors. (Not achieved)]

John assembled the gun, loaded the magazine, picked up his functional work jacket and left the room.

Bignan Street rises in the night.

Scissors took a taxi to the low-rent apartment.

The delicate filter outside the window was shattered by the neon lights, and the soul was degraded by the roar of locomotives and the lust of alcohol.

The taxi drove into the industrial area.

The giant building roared in the wind. Shadows darker than the night covered the dim street lights. The billboards were still there, but the holographic projections and the handsome men and beautiful women had all disappeared.

Three cars appeared from the intersection and followed Scissors.

A black Plato coupe.

Two six-wheeled extended commercial vehicles.

They followed far behind, and the distance between them suddenly shortened after they had completely left the downtown area.

The taxi made a desperate escape.

"Chase them! The passengers must be captured alive!"

Kafei Kro ordered his assistant.

He held a glass of whiskey in his hand, his face full of resentment.

He stole ideas and won the internal competition in the company, and his colleagues who were eliminated were all hoping for his death.

The draft is exhausted.

The draft of my sequel was rejected.

The company shelved the Kafe line, which put his position in the design department in jeopardy.

Things have happened.

Plato is now guiding public opinion, attracting attention, and is ready to restart the series at any time.

It doesn’t matter whose name the designer writes.

Scissors and Caffey.

Whoever provides the manuscript and survives to the end, the manipulated public opinion will turn to the survivor, allowing him to gain wealth and status.

The board believes in putting profits first.

The means and process do not matter.

Kafei gripped the cup more and more tightly, and suddenly heard the roar of a motorcycle coming from the industrial area.

Bright light flashed across his car window.

John suddenly rushed out from the fork in the road ahead and drifted across the front of the convoy.

His pupils flickered in the blinding high beams.

The Messiah prosthetic eye switches to combat mode.

He raised his rifle and fired sideways.

The bullet hit the driver's seat accurately without penetrating the armor, but the second and third bullets landed within the palm of your hand, causing the bulletproof glass to crack into spider webs.

The driver was forced to slow down due to limited vision.

Bang, biu~
The rearview mirrors on both sides exploded one after another, sparks flew far away, and the remaining parts fell to the ground and were crushed by the car behind.

Dadada - John pulled the trigger to quickly clear the magazine, which poured directly into the same tire. The burning magazine compressed and exploded, causing problems with the calibration of the run-flat tire.

The driver of the car in front felt under pressure and had to slow down and stop to let the two cars behind pass by John.

The sound of brakes and footsteps were heard at the same time.

Six people got out of the business car that was forced to stop.

"Sangma hot bitch!"

The driver gritted his teeth, picked up the gun, kicked open the driver's door and was about to settle the score with John, but found that there was only one motorcycle on the road, and the guy who had just fired the shot had disappeared.

boom--

There was a loud noise next to the car.

The driver turned around and saw that the co-pilot's head was blown to pieces, and his companion in the back seat was shooting into the air.

Screams and gunfire were heard.

He didn't see the specific target clearly, and just heard the bodyguards in the same car falling to the ground one by one, but when he ran over, he saw nothing.

The streets are eerie.

The high beam projects a rectangular curtain of light.

The gunshots grew fainter.

"Fuck, where is he?"

"I can't see him."

"Sian Westin..."

"Grass!"

"what--"

"he is--"

The driver ran around the car twice with a rifle in hand, but he was always one step slow. Every time he turned around, he saw his companions dead.

"Hoo, hoo~"

His rising anger was drowned out by fear.

Click.

The driver heard a slight metal collision sound, immediately raised his gun and looked back, and found that the attacker was standing behind him.

John was reloading his rifle.

The clicking sound was when checking the condition of the gun.

He glanced at the driver coldly. He thought the guy was lucky because he had no bullets left when he killed the last one.

John put away his gun and walked away.

He walked on the road almost without making any sound. His gray-black coat was like a receding shadow in the backlit environment. The bloody smell from the corpses scattered all over the ground had just begun to spread...

The driver had a breakdown.

He came to his senses and raised the gun at John.

boom--

There were six bodies.

The roar of motorcycles continued.

"Manager, there's no sound."

"Who is that guy?"

The assistant reported in shock.

"I don't fucking know!"

Kafei styled his hair into a mess, took off his glasses and kept pounding the back seat.

He was guessing at John's identity.

Colleagues who want to play tricks, superiors who want to draw a line, and corpse collectors in the company's management...

The high beams of a motorcycle passed by the window.

"what--"

Kafei screamed and curled up with her head in her hands.

John ignored the coupe and passed closely by the business car filled with bodyguards.

The submachine gun spewed blue flames into the night.

Bodies hung from windows.

He slowed down and retreated to the back, then drove up from the other side. During this process, his submachine gun had already been reloaded.

Da da da--

The bodyguards tried to resist.

The firefight was much shorter than expected.

The commercial vehicle was filled with dead bodies.

"Fuck it, let's die together!"

The driver swerved the steering wheel to overturn the motorcycle, but John pierced his skull with his widow's knife at close range.

The entire vehicle lost control and moved sideways.

The sedan that Kafi was in was unable to dodge and was knocked over.

He crawled out covered in blood, with a chip flashing on his neck, meaning the emergency team would arrive at any moment.

"No, please, I'll pay double!"

Kafei tried to beg for mercy.

His eyes revealed genuine regret - he should have scratched his arm earlier to trigger the Platinum Membership Package. The company has received the news, and now he just needs to delay for a few minutes until the rescue arrives...

boom!
John didn't even blink.

He turned around, got on his motorcycle and drove away, as if he had just gotten off to throw away some garbage.

[Mission target update]

[Talk to Scissors. (unacommpolished)】

The taxi was heading towards the low-rent apartments.

The shop is in the opposite direction.

It's easy to guess where the scissors are.

John drove to Edward's former apartment, and the metal sliding door had been opened in advance.

Warm light leaked into the corridor.

Scissors sat with his back against the wall in the empty room.

"Should I say congratulations?"

John suddenly spoke up.

"I think you are smarter than Edward in every sense. You are more tactful, know how to survive, and seize opportunities... You deserve this wealth and status."

"You actually think I'm mean, don't you?"

Scissors smiled bitterly and tiredly.

"I was the one who escaped, but I won everything in the end."

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

John sat next to him.

The lights suddenly went out, as if the rent was due.

The dark room fell into silence.

The cold night of Eden City shone in through the door, allowing an emotion heavier than loneliness to spread wildly.

Scissors took a deep breath and smoothed his slicked-back hair.

"Do you remember the envelope that was delivered to my store?"

Edward was actually penniless.

What he entrusted John to give was not money, but all the design drafts accumulated during this period.

"It was Edward's plan to use the media. He had guessed that Plato would give up Kafei, so he had to take a gamble. The design draft was the only bargaining chip for a comeback."

Scissors rests his hands on his knees.

"Edward is smarter than you think. He is the more gifted and talented one between the two of us. He also knows that his cyberpsychosis has reached its limit..."

The room fell silent again.

Scissors took out the last cigarette, but found that the matches were used up.

John handed over the lighter.

This time he brought it.

The flames illuminated Scissor's face.

The originally delicate face turned terribly pale, like a gradually leaking bag of skin.

He thanked John and said.

"You can call me if you need anything."

"What's the reason?"

"You are a mercenary. This coat will definitely wear out. Just like a person needs a prosthetic surgeon, it also needs to be repaired and upgraded. And I am the most qualified person in the world to do it."

"You're going to work in Borattu soon."

“As long as I am alive, this promise will be valid. I guarantee that you will not find a better designer than me.

"Okay, then you die later."

John said as he stood up and prepared to leave.

The scissors raised their heads wearily and said goodbye to him.

John walked to the door and blocked the light source, leaving only a red dot flickering in the dark room.

He saw it clearly when he lit the cigarette just now.

Scissors' cheek twitched slightly.

Same with Edward.

[Task: Deflated Skin (Completed)]

[Reward: Customized equipment [Functional work jacket], reward]

(End of this chapter)