My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 245: Palmer Race
[Mission target update]

[Waiting for news from the ghouls. (Not yet achieved)]

After the employer places the order, all that's left is to wait.

Orlos is also trying to find the kestrels through other channels, but she can't do it in a big way, otherwise it will attract the attention of others.

Time slipped away amidst the sound of the waves.

Palmer's shadow spun halfway around, only to be illuminated in a different direction by the sudden flash of neon lights.

Rock music played incessantly.

Even in Palmer, a hub for illegal immigrants and criminals, there is still a nightlife.

The warehouse explosion during the day did not cause much unrest.

Such accidents happen every day in Old Chris's blind-spotting game.

After all, the original owners of the warehouse were all outsiders.

Orlos's time bomb was mistaken by the ignorant as a safety measure by the original owner of the warehouse.

They have also witnessed poison gas being released in warehouses.

Night fell.

Daytime work is replaced by the noise of bars, followed by a more dazzling wave of lights, three times more pedestrians than during the day, and countless luxury cars gradually gathering on the dead-end road.

"What are they doing?"

John leaned back in the driver's seat like a cop waiting for a lead.

Oros glanced at the dock, which was gradually becoming bustling.

"Illegal racing? Wait, you've never done that before?"

She was a little surprised.

"You're a pretty good driver. I thought you were a seasoned street racer. By the way, John, where did you learn your driving skills?"

Euryth's words plunged John into memories.

His life before he turned seventeen was like a movie about to be forgotten, only becoming clear from the moment he stepped out of the Eden City station with his bag.

Two years of uneventful life on the streets.

A job offer from Tiebang Logistics turned into a job for the company.

John gradually recalled many things.

Some stories so profound that I thought I would never forget them.

For example, the competition among applicants, and the selection process that is one in ten thousand.

They received systematic training and spent nearly sixteen hours a day researching driving chips.

Daily assessments, monthly evaluations, and practical tests.

John had over a hundred driving chips implanted, and during the trial period, he had to stay in a nutrient tank and use a deep-sea diving device for simulation. Finally, there was physical training and actual flight training.

Tiebang Logistics has a comprehensive training center.

Only after passing all the vehicle tests, obtaining the company's professional driver's license, registering insurance, and having an official employee number and file information entered can one officially become a driver in the transportation team.

Orlos listened with great interest.

Why are they so strict?

"Hmm... drones have replaced transportation within the city. The drivers we recruited mainly do cross-city business, which involves leaving the border wall to run long-distance routes, and it's quite dangerous."

John smiled.

"We're just drivers. The company soldiers who accompany the orders have much stricter screening processes. They're given combat stimulants and pain inhibitors, making them look like monsters. Advanced cybernetic implants are also mandatory..."

"and then?"

"Five years of driving experience, I guess. I started with low-priced goods and gradually worked my way up to high-end business. Some people were unlucky and failed, while new people passed the tests and joined the team. That's all the usual stuff in the transportation industry..."

John's mind raced with more thoughts.

Those ways of making extra money through vehicle repair, the comical yet selfish administrator, his roommates in the same team, the cowardly A-Jie, the lecherous Samba, Machi who adds pepper to his coffee...

John was caught in a whirlpool of memories.

Countless faces and fragments floated into my mind, like a decompressed folder constantly spewing out new things.

The Tiebang Logistics incident serves as a memorable moment.

The day John awoke from his sickbed in his body, he began a short but entirely new life.

He has never forgotten the details of the past, but he has never recalled those people who left a deep impression on him. Now, he can no longer reach out to them to catch up.

John asked Kuang Xin to check the internal documents—after the Ironclad Logistics transportation incident, all members of John's transportation team disappeared, all files were marked as dead, and some members were packaged up and sent to Gaia Cell for experiments.

Snapped!
A crisp snap of the fingers shattered all memories.

Oros sat in the passenger seat with a mocking expression.

The light from outside the car window flowed across her high-end faux leather, and her slightly upturned lips shone with just the right amount of luster under the neon lights.

John, however, couldn't come up with any other ideas.

The danger Oros posed to him was enough to make him disregard the delicate porcelain doll-like appearance; the word "seduction" seemed fatal in the face of her identity as a middleman.

"I've registered you."

A fine stream of golden data flashed in Oros's eyes.

John realized she was serious, shook his head, and couldn't figure out what this woman was thinking.

Racing?

Aren't we looking for someone?
Oros didn't seem worried at all, nor was she afraid of alarming the Japanese.

John's Silver Rider supercar eventually merged into the traffic and slowly came to a stop amidst the electronic fog.

Large crowds gathered on Palmer's dead-end street.

A competition venue was set up, and onlookers and vehicle repairmen completely blocked both sides of the dock. Some people even climbed onto the iron stairs and red brick buildings.

puff-

One fluorescent graffiti after another lit up.

As external current surged in, dozens of holographic projections landed on the empty ground of the dead-end road, followed by warm-up music, and the removal of obstacles and abandoned vehicles from the main road.

John is at the end of the dead end.

He was dozens of cars away from the starting line.

Vehicle brands that you can name, from Detroit International to Thunder Miles, have all appeared, including new models of the Fuki series and sedan versions of the Naginata series.

It's normal to have luxury cars in a crime hotspot.

Those vehicles with their hoods up were like half-naked girls, attracting countless onlookers.

Showing off before the game is one aspect.

For a car modification mechanic to gain recognition, suppliers and middlemen need to find sources of goods and customers.

It has maximum social features.

Naturally, the trade in contraband is also inevitable.

John glanced around and saw that at least half of the drivers were on drugs.

Da da da.

The sound of high heels amplified amidst the noise as a heavily made-up girl approached John's car.

She was tall and slender, her trousers were narrower than John's palm, and a shiny jacket hung loosely on her shoulders, revealing her neck and fair shoulders.

John noticed her inner garment.

It was a black short-sleeved shirt with the Palmer Racing logo and number on it.

It turns out they were from the event organizers.

She tapped lightly on the glass, handed a chip and a micro-terminal to Orlos, and then slowly leaned against the passenger window, her exquisite curves radiating an ambiguous signal.

The gaze passed over Orlos and the center console, landing directly on John in the driver's seat.

"You're John Isenberg? We've heard that the company uses your wanted poster as black market propaganda, but this is the first time we've seen you in person at Palmer's racetrack."

She chewed something, her tongue brushing against the peak of her lips.

"All the formalities are completed. The route is in the chip. There are no complicated rules. Just floor the gas pedal."

Snapped.

Another snap of the fingers.

Oros sat in the passenger seat, reached out and put his arm around the girl's neck, like a venomous snake slithering across her skin, then gently kissed her lips on the back of her head.

With her other hand, she flipped the prepared magnetic card over and pushed it down the cleavage of the other person's chest.

(End of this chapter)