My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 219: The Land of the Fall (Thanks to Alliance Leader "Margok the Supreme Leader")
[Sharing contact information]

Gino received Raphael's contact information.

She was about to speak, saying there was no need to rush, but then she swallowed the words back down.

John is dying.

Ten days was shorter than I had imagined.

When the Maya couple first approached him to discuss the tavern's revenue, John was actually quite scared. He feared that his death would cause the life the two had worked so hard to build to collapse once again.

From the moment John left the restaurant, something inside him was touched.

Later, I ran into bartender Winna and asked Gilaard to take care of her, which made me feel much better.

John decided to help those around him as much as possible.

Even if their suggestions are not adopted, it is their own choice.

"Thanks, John, I owe you."

"Heh, it's me who owes you. You didn't really need to get involved in what happened tonight."

These words made Gino feel a little uncomfortable.

She changed the subject.

"When I was decoding the project key, I discovered something: Bismarck was conscious during the surgery..."

Bismarck watched all of Gino's words and actions through the camera.

Her reasons for hating the company.

The weakness of a seasoned Fu Rui control enthusiast.

This includes violent intrusions by security personnel.

All of this happened right under Bismarck's nose.

If Iron Scorpion had acted swiftly and dealt with the three of them, the project manager would never have intervened.

"I know."

John was not surprised at all.

“Bismarck has figured us all out; that's just the kind of person he is.”

Even before the mission began.

Serum then used sisal rope to attach Bismarck's information and itinerary to the mission details.

A project manager at Plato, who had experienced the warehouse bombing incident, was now in a precarious position within the company.

He was forced to leave the main company and seek a way out at Source Equation.

The fact that his coordinates are located at Sakura Cross Street indicates that this guy is still seeking help from the Japanese.

"European companies have a terrible relationship with Japanese people, so can you imagine how badly he's doing? Ha, a corporate dog, he looks glamorous on the outside, but behind the scenes he's just like a street kid, barely scraping by."

After analyzing the situation, John turned his head and found Gino staring at him with his eyes open.

"Uh, so you came up with all of this on your own? You even read the mission report?"

"if not?"

John gave a wry smile.

“I’m here to work with a gun. Intelligence is survival rate. Why wouldn’t I look at it? The guy who got shot by the SAT on the street just now is an example. If you can’t be patient and use your brain, you’ll have to risk your life to survive… Can your life be as tough as a bullet?”

"You've grown up so fast, um, no sarcasm intended."

Gino shrugged.

She grew up on the streets of Eden, frequenting bars and boxing rings, witnessing wave after wave of newcomers rise to fame or die from stray bullets.

Those stories are all similar.

These street urchins got incredibly lucky, landed a fantastic job, and without even dying, earned their start-up capital. They started drinking, sleeping with girls, and bragging. To maintain their current lifestyle, they were forced to embark on a career path fraught with danger and violence.

Those who walk the edge are all like this.

But most people don't possess the qualities of a legend.

"The best place they can think of is an underground clinic where the windows are never clean. The only way to become powerful is to buy a new and cool prosthetic body, or to increase the caliber of their guns by half a centimeter."

Gino paused for a moment, then turned around.

“You’re different. People who use their brains can go further.”

"Mercenaries are not a highly intelligent group; almost every fringe traveler has a deeply memorable experience of being deceived."

"Hehe, maybe."

Gino smiled and continued looking out the window. John turned off the highway and onto Sakura Cross Street, and for some reason, he thought of Olos.

She is someone who is naturally good at using her brain.

Even the most cunning and treacherous wealthy and powerful figures, Oros could handle.

This middleman really taught John a lot about survival, and he thought—perhaps he should apologize to her before he died.

Sudden.

The scenery outside the car window changed.

As Silver Rider 577 sped down the main road of Sakura Cross Street, bypassing the obstruction of skyscrapers, a thick cloud of smoke appeared between the low-rent apartments and factories.

【Cherry Blossom Crossroads - Inter-district Bridge】

The Silver Rider supercar was running with the external air circulation on.

An extremely complex stream of air entered the car, instantly causing Gino and John to frown.

vomit--

Even the sisal rope sleeping in the back row couldn't withstand the fumes and was immediately woken up.

John changed his breathing mode and finally saw the situation clearly through the smoke that filled half the city:

The bridge across the Sakura Cross Street has collapsed.

The once-famous "Faqi" advertising pontoon truck is now just a huge steel wreck lying on the riverbank.

Its scattered skeleton was half melted and half dismembered.

A large number of emergency response personnel were gathered around—an organization established by the city hall to handle similar large public cases, mainly composed of ECPD officers, outsourcing companies, emergency response teams, and temporary contractors.

This area has been cleared.

Even under the partial lockdown, some residents lingered nearby, staring blankly at their homes that had been reduced to ruins.

Workers near the accident site were all wearing gas masks.

The composition of smells in the air is extremely complex.

The acrid smell of burning aviation fuel, the ozone from burnt electrical wires, the metallic odor from the slow-release fluid in the core of the airship volatilizing at high temperatures...

Besides.

The garbage and years of excrement that were originally buried deep under the riverbank were all "shoveled out" by this fallen giant beast.

This smell is truly deadly.

At that moment, the Silver Rider 577's onboard radio was broadcasting a report.

Nearby residents and rescue workers have been rushed to the hospital after inhaling the deadly gas, and the number of casualties is still rising.

Experts are advising citizens to double the government-recommended "distance" level.

John and his group were on a road that was not blocked.

The buildings at the Sakura Cross Street have a significant elevation difference.

They can overlook the accident scene from the car.

Countless drones and hovercraft darted in and out of the smoke, like flies swarming around excrement.

[Signal Transmission/ALW News Channel]

Gino shared a link with John.

His prosthetic eye flashed, projecting the signal onto the car's screen, and a window popped up simultaneously in his field of vision and on the glass.

ALW's news drones are swooping and hovering.

Their high-definition cameras were broadcasting the accident scene live to the entire city.

Through the jagged crack, one could see the horrific scene inside the cockpit—the bodies of the flight crew were embedded in the wreckage, their blood-stained black hair dried and curled, and their prosthetic eyes, protruding from their sockets, were still blinking.

The installer's vital signs have disappeared.

The backup power remaining in the driver's seat is supplied to the prosthetic eye through the prosthetic body, allowing it to continuously and regularly scan the surrounding environment, trying to find a signal that can respond within the shielded area.

Sunlight cannot penetrate the smoke completely.

The prosthetic eye gleamed amidst the red flesh and grease.

John suddenly spoke.

"Is this really unrelated to the serum?"

Gino didn't say anything.

(End of this chapter)