My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 226: Guests at the Funeral Home

The man was wearing a silver chain around his neck.

It's a very beautiful ornament, heavy and textured. Based on the details of the necklace, I searched online and found similar styles on news channels.

【Item: Silver-edged copper-rimmed cross】

[Sales link: ...]

[Data collection detected. Default/Deny. Local area network connection error. Attempting to reconnect...]

John looked away.

His prosthetic body was basically automatically isolated from the internet by the black light, and there were strict precautions against uploading and downloading to the company's cloud server.

But sometimes it's like this:

John wants to actively activate a certain prosthetic device to obtain some information.

The funeral home guests avoided the two of them and went to the front desk.

John's field of vision still retained the human-shaped mosaic; high-resolution partial images were cropped and enlarged to reveal the other person's ring.

The ring is also heavy and has an intricate design.

The church emblem is carved on it.

John had already guessed who the guest was.

He is a priest.

How rare.

There are hardly any churches in the entire city.

Faith appears fragile under the neon lights, and super-sensory chips become the main source of spiritual nourishment. The soul is numbed by more stimulating things, drifting between cyberpsychosis and psychosis.

John sensed a familiar feeling.

He closed his eyes, thought for a moment, and suddenly remembered that when he was driving for Tiebang Logistics, his best friend in the group seemed to be a believer as well...

Memories well up like bubbles in a drink.

John's mind wandered, but his face remained expressionless as he sat with his hands hanging limply on his knees, lost in thought.

Gino also put his arms around his waist and closed his eyes to rest.

A hacker.

A mercenary.

It's normal for them to be in the neighborhood funeral home, and they look exhausted with vacant eyes, probably after a tough mission and the loss of a good teammate, not unlike the breathing background in the city subway.

The priest withdrew his observing gaze.

He tried to stay away from the two marginalized travelers, but the room was so small that it seemed deliberate, and he didn't create much distance. After hesitating for a while, he finally decided to press the call bell behind the bar.

This wasn't the priest's first visit to the funeral home.

Nourishes—

The doorbell rang loudly and blared.

The entire funeral home was like it was leaking electricity.

The voice of Fall Guys came from the cheap radio on the wall.

Welcome to the Netherworld's Home!

"it's me."

"Ah, my dear God..."

"Stop! There are other people here!"

"Alright, I have other work to do. The things you want are under the bar. The price is the same as always. Trust me, these things will help those who deserve happiness."

Are they safe?

"Look at what you're saying, what do you take this place for..."

"I'm not asking for anything, I'm just reminding you that they are all poor people who can't afford the treatment for prosthetic body contamination, so I want them to be as clean as possible!"

"Death is the purest thing."

"Hey……"

The priest sighed.

He went under the bar, took out a large box with wheels, and kept glancing at John and Gino out of the corner of his eye. Then he hurriedly pulled up his mask and left the funeral home.

The room was very small.

The priest lowered his voice and kept his distance, but even Gino, who didn't have any plugins to amplify his conversation, overheard most of it.

The matter is not complicated.

The priest obtained illegal prosthetic bodies through ghouls to help poor believers in the church.

It is dangerous from both a moral and legal perspective.

John and Gino didn't move, as if they were asleep.

About half an hour passed.

The rusty door was pushed open again, this time much more roughly, the door flaps whistling and making a "bang," and debris fell from the already mottled wall, soaked by the water that had been brought in.

Tap tap, thud.

Two burly men waded through the puddles and placed two boxes, one large and one small, beside their heavy boots. Ghouls.

Both.

John could tell the other person's profession just by slightly raising his eyes.

There's no way, the features are too obvious.

Their bodies were covered in open surgical scars, and the traces of excessive modification looked particularly grotesque under the light. Their faces, in particular, had their entire nasal bones removed and replaced with red-dot prosthetic eyes, making them look like androids with shattered skulls.

Shhhhhhhhh

The ghoul gasped intermittently, like an allergic patient, as air rushed into the mechanical structure of its face, emitting a strange whistling sound.

This is a typical drug addict.

Of course.

The identities of ghouls and Rift Party members are not contradictory; both are insane organ madmen with illicit drugs flowing in their blood and their breath smelling of metallic slow-release fluid.

The two men glanced at John and Gino, but paid them no attention, and continued moving things into the room.

When they bent over, their penises were exposed.

Everyone has two guns.

The Rongju kinetic short-range jet is highly modified with a variety of parts, and it likely has its ammunition caliber and firing amplifier adjusted by the user.

John made his judgment and looked down.

From the moment they entered the room, the previously settled air was infused with a new scent.

A pungent smell, a mixture of mold, engine oil, biological tissue, and a strange chemical agent, wafted towards me.

What they brought was also illegal.

If I'm not mistaken, the boxes are full of prosthetics and organs that have been removed from bodies.

The night roads of Eden are not easy to walk.

Orders for assault and kidnapping for money are flying in, and the dark alleys are fraught with danger.

Ordinary people could easily become commodities on the black market, or even worse—suffering torture that renders them useless, being recorded by special equipment, and having their footage made into bloody hypersensory chips to be sold to perverted clients.

dong dong dong.

The ghoul's action of ringing the bell was much more violent than the priest's.

"Fuck you, where the hell are you?!"

“I’m busy, blood vessels. If I break something, I’ll have to pay for it. If you’re free and have nothing to do, go check the goods and make sure that none of the items on the list are missing.”

"Guaranteed no problem... Wait, is your brain short-circuited? The price is wrong!"

"Even with this amount, you still owe me a debt."

"How stingy! I thought we were finally back to normal. Business is booming at Sakura Cross Street right now. We might be dealing with each other every day, and all the good stuff gets sent to you first..."

"I didn't ask you for anything."

"Yes, yes, we beg you."

The ghoul's tone was unnaturally soft, and the red light bulb on his mask sounded sinister against his docile demeanor.

"Who told you your goods are the best! Fuck, this supply disruption has been driving me crazy, I couldn't take it anymore, so I quickly took your order to make up the difference. The process went smoothly, and I caught some idiot in the East District who had installed the specified model..."

"I'm busy, I don't have time to listen to your nonsense."

"Then give me the medicine!"

"Just two bottles. If you want more, let's talk after you've paid off your other debts."

puff-

The sound of a valve being opened came from the ceiling.

Glug glug, clang.

Two unlabeled modified respirators "spit out" from the tubes.

The ghoul immediately shut up.

The two men reached out and snatched it, pressing it against their faces, followed by an even more intense howling sound.

"call--"

Pale purple gas seeped from the cracks in their faces, like smoking processors, as if they were about to burst into flames at any moment.

"That's fucking awesome!"

The two ghouls left, looking quite spirited.

boom.

The metal door closed.

Gino suddenly sat up straight and took John's hand.

"I've been scanned."

"..."

John remained silent for a long time, slumped over.

He didn't move, but his prosthetic eye focused and shifted slightly, looking at the door that had just closed.

(End of this chapter)