My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 236: Rest Day
John drove the Silver Knight across half the city, glancing every now and then at the legendary middleman in the passenger seat:
Oros slumped in the passenger seat, her face hidden by a leather hood with LED strips, and her long sleeves even covering her fingers, making her look like a fallen girl who had been lured into a luxury car.

In addition, the Ezanne Berger supercar's flashy appearance means it wouldn't look out of place parked in front of any club or bar.

John didn't believe that Orlos was just there for a drive.

Instead of giving the exact address all at once, she would give a general direction every five minutes, letting John drive however he wanted, while she just listlessly looked out the window.

"Is someone following me?"

John spoke up first.

"Hmm, it seems like you've suddenly grown a brain after not seeing you for half a month?"

Orlos glanced at the driver's seat and grinned mischievously.

"Smart mercenaries are so terrifying. You used to be much cuter."

"It's all because I've dealt with you guys too much. It's all scheming, whether you're a middleman, a corporate dog, or even a gang leader... In short, none of the powerful and wealthy people are easy to deal with."

John gently turned the steering wheel, leaving the bustling streets, and deliberately drove onto the elevated loop to glance at the road behind him.

He was just bluffing Orlos; in reality, he hadn't noticed any tracking vehicles along the way.

Since Orlos did not deny it, it means that the tracking is still ongoing.

In the internet? Or... in the sky?

Silver Rider 577 drove into a remote section of road.

The number of cameras has decreased dramatically, and the tall buildings overhead have become sparse.

However, as the sky gradually opened up, no low-flying drones were seen, nor were there any hackers infiltrating the Silver Knight 577's vehicle system.

John demonstrated the professionalism and maturity of a mercenary.

Orlos noticed all of these actions and had already turned her attention back to the car from the start of the conversation.

He suddenly burst into laughter, in that familiar tone.

“I’m so proud of that. When I get back to Newcastle, I’ll open a course specifically to teach new mercenaries. I’m sure there will be young people trying to get close to me.”

What are you so proud of?

There's a saying in my birthplace: "A good woman can always teach a man something."

As she spoke, Oros waved her hand and gave a specific address.

"Judging from your current level, I'm definitely awesome!"

She waved her finger, and music started playing in the car.

It's a bit like new blues, or new country rock, the kind of music John, who's used to listening to old radio, wouldn't appreciate.

When Orlos doesn't want to tell the truth, she always switches to a teasing tone—with a hint of mischief, squinting at people, and her words and actions make you think of nudity and sex.

But if you actually show any ill intentions, she will immediately switch to a contemptuous and mocking expression, looking down on you and making you feel embarrassed.

John is already very skilled at it.

He completely ignored Olos and focused on the street outside the window.

Orlos is a legendary middleman.

The people she offended were not simple either.

The Silver Knight 577's engine trembled slightly, and the entire vehicle suddenly increased its speed.

Eden City - Palmer Slum

John hadn't expected Orlos to come here.

Palmer is Eden City’s most notorious “scumbag gathering place”.

A large number of illegal immigrants and urban criminals gather here.

Silver Rider 577 drove along the coastline until it reached the iconic dead-end road, which marked its arrival at its destination.

This road has been under the jurisdiction of three or four councilors, but it has not been completed.

Now, campaign manifestos in the region don't even dare to mention this mess anymore.

As for why it can't be solved?

Because the semi-abandoned industrial port is too suitable for smuggling, the two completed low-rent factory buildings can accommodate a large number of shady businesses, and there are thousands of anonymous warehouses of all sizes attached to the coastline!
Interests breed power, and power can influence the layout of a city.

John once heard a joke in a bar:
If any ECPD lieutenant colonel lacks achievements, he can gather a group of fully armed police officers to raid those warehouses. The contraband inside is enough to get him promoted and make a fortune, and he will eventually die in some unknown corner.

It's not surprising that the Issenberg supercar appeared in Palmer.

The open-air parking lot was full of luxury cars, and even stolen cars covered in gang graffiti. The pests who stopped there only glanced at them, and after seeing the classic combination of "mercenaries" and "hackers," most of them wisely looked away.

"If we're being targeted by our enemies, what's the difference between you coming to Palmer and walking naked into a sex club? It's full of desperate people looking to make their fortune. With just an anonymous phone call and a wire transfer, we'll be bombed up in the alley..."

John wasn't joking.

He even took a rifle with him when he got out of the car—normally, when he wanted to keep a low profile, he would only carry a submachine gun and a pistol.

"Hmph, are you afraid of dying?"

Orlos, on the other hand, remained quite calm.

She took out her black-rimmed glasses, inserted the chip at the end of the temple into her neck, and then bought cheap bubble gum and a soda from a vending machine.

"You're not really here to go shopping, are you?"

John stood in front of Orlos.

As the girl bent down to pick something up, several Rift Party members had already looked over, and the ghouls sitting in the shadows of the alley also took off their smart headbands.

"You need to tell me the specifics."

"Will it help to tell you?"

Oros took a sip of her drink, tore open a bubble gum, and blew a huge pink bubble right in front of John.

boo——

She smiled, put her hands in her pockets, and walked into the bizarre alley.

Let the colors of those neon advertisements wash over the leather hood.

John took two steps to catch up.

"That's not how it works. Even if you hire mercenaries, you should at least provide a clear mission briefing, right?"

"Now let's talk about the rules!"

Oros suddenly roared, so loudly that the outlaws in the surrounding shops turned to look.

Those criminals, even more bizarre than deep-sea fish, let out a sinister laugh.

They were dressed in all sorts of colors, from their hair to their nails, and their haphazardly matched prosthetic bodies were covered in wildly different outfits.

Someone was sitting at the outdoor bar with a wine glass in hand.

Someone walked past, hands in their pockets and a respirator in their mouth.

Both sides are lined with stone wall buildings.

Inside could be a morgue where ghouls dissect their spoils, a workshop where the Rift Party plans terrorist attacks, or even a mobile black market casino.

The "residents" and "tourists" who have settled here are not the kind of people who are easy to talk to on any street in Eden City.

Olos was standing in the middle of the road.

On both sides are industrial exhaust fans and smoking manhole covers.

There are more and more pedestrians.

The gap between John and Orlos gradually filled with passersby.

The damp alley was covered with billboards that looked like moss, and she just stood there with her hands outstretched, waving her long sleeves that covered her fingernails, like a drug-addicted, crazy little brat, or like one of those outcasts with a bad temper.

"What happened to you today?"

John had just gone through the sisal rope incident and even suspected that Orlos had also been turned into a cyberpsychotic.

This is completely different from the middleman who usually controls the situation.

Oros flashed her signature smile and gently pushed the nose pad with her drink straw.

"When you were playing the hero and saving the damsel in distress, did you ever think about messing up your employer's business? Now it's my turn to be willful. Mercenary, protect your employer."

"I'm already doing it."

John sighed.

The instant he lowered his head, he turned around, drew his gun, and shoved the muzzle into the mouth of a ghoul pressed against his back.

The crowded people parted instantly.

"What do you want to do?"

John asked.

(End of this chapter)