My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 269: The Corpse (Thanks to Alliance Leader "Bitter Gourd Face")
Just when John and his friends were getting tired of playing, the target finally appeared on the hallway security camera.

The heavy alloy door opened.

A sweet, distinctive aroma of whiskey filled the room.

Tom Gack roughly loosened his tie, hung up the incessantly ringing phone, exhaled, and laughed, a hint of excitement at the successful deal on his face.

He waved to open the wardrobe, ready to choose a bathrobe.

The alcohol numbed his brain, making Tom's thoughts muddled; otherwise, he would have noticed the anomaly in the room much sooner.

A samurai sword was placed on his shoulder.

The cold metal pressed against the throbbing carotid artery.

hum-

The thin blade grazed Tom's stiff body, stood upright on his shoulder, and reflected his profile.

"How did the data board die?"

John asked in a deep voice.

Tom's Adam's apple bobbed, his prosthetic eye flashed, and suddenly he clutched his head and howled in pain!
He tried to contact security, but I blocked the signal.

An empty voice echoed in John's mind.

As his body trembled violently, the katana sliced ​​open Tom's right ear, and the gushing blood soaked through his custom-made suit.

He slumped onto the sofa in a disheveled state, clutching his head.

Tom tried to get up, but was forced back by the katana.

"Turn on voice recording."

John commanded.

The high spirits brought by alcohol vanished, leaving only the most primal fear.

A golden ring appeared around Tom's pupils.

The recording software has started.

"You were sent by Raphael? Damn woman, I've already paid the remaining balance and all compensation!"

"Yes."

John nodded, looking down at the other man.

Suddenly, the katana pierced Tom's left arm, severing the inner frame of the sofa without any resistance, and almost hitting the floor.

"Ah—Fuck! Damn it!"

"But you still need an explanation."

"I've fucking said everything I needed to say. The company was investigating where those weapons ended up. He went to handle the evidence, but he couldn't catch it and got beaten to death by the company's people!"

John stood up and drew his katana.

"Whoosh, whoosh."

Tom had just breathed a sigh of relief when his left palm suddenly felt a burning sensation. Half of his hand fell to the side, and the katana fell again, pinning his thigh to the floor.

"what--"

"I want to hear the real version."

John made the cut based on the death photos on the data board.

Tom was in so much pain that he almost went into shock.

His emergency team package was not activated because the entire room was equipped with shielding devices—originally intended as insurance for business negotiations, but now cutting off any avenues for help.

"I'll talk!"

Tom was panting heavily.

"I was working with Plato, and they were the ones who did it. They secretly looked through the transaction documents while processing evidence on the data panel, and my partner assassinated them!"

His eyes were bloodshot.

"How can you blame me? This guy was dishonest and tried to blackmail my business partner with secrets!"

"Oh? What secret?"

John pressed on with his questions.

Tom lifted his sweat-drenched face, trying to see or remember the person in front of him, or perhaps trying to assess John's stance.

"Secrets come at a price. The data tablet is a prime example. If you knew the truth, do you think Raphael would let you off the hook?"

He suppressed his anger, his expression sinister.

"Do you think a ton of weapons materials is a small amount? I have collaborators and backers behind me. They will put pressure on Raphael, while you will die in a ditch in a corner of the city!"

John drew his katana again.

The threat of death sounded as sweet as a blessing to him. Blood trickled down the blade, leaving the katana gleaming, poised at Tomne's chest.

“I’m just doing this for money. If you delay any longer, this knife will go through your spine, the slow-release fluid will contaminate your internal organs, and you’ll spend the rest of your life lying in bed drooling.”

"...Phew, you're insane! You want to die? I'll grant your wish! Plato and Rongju are teaming up to dump weapons on Eden City gangsters, selling them to both blacks and Japanese! Hahaha!"

Tom suddenly burst out laughing, a very awkward laugh.

He knew what the recording meant—his career and future were ruined.

"what--"

Tom suddenly sprang into action.

The katana shifted and pierced straight through his chest.

With his other hand, he pulled something out from under the sofa and threw it toward the French windows of the room.

[Countdown: 1.35s↓]

John felt the knife in his hand suddenly become heavy, and then something heavy slid off the blade.

The thing that Tom threw out exploded violently after hitting the window!
boom--

The entire floor-to-ceiling window shattered into pieces.

A hurricane-force wind, carrying a small amount of rainwater, poured into the room from the high-rise building.

The signal jamming has been lifted.

The piercing alarm shattered the tranquility of Morton Building, warning lights flashed wildly in the corridors, and a dense swarm of armed personnel rushed toward the elevators and stairwells.

The emergency response team and people from Rongju Company will also be there!

John gazed at the gap in the window, looking down at the night view of most of Eden City from the 42nd floor, as if he could see the armed airships about to fly over the city!
"recording!"

he exclaimed.

Tom lay motionless in a pool of blood.

John flipped over the sofa, picked up the "Lifesaving Kit," tore open Tom's clothes, and began to perform first aid on his bleeding chest.

The equipment lights came on.

“Huh—ah—”

Tom's eyes widened, and he sprang to his feet from the floor.

He was back in nightmarish reality, and standing in front of him was not a paramedic, but that damned mercenary!

I shut down the elevator, causing several fires, but we still have to evacuate, or we'll all die here!

Empty thoughts raced through my mind.

"The matter isn't finished yet."

John grabbed a few ties, twisted them into a bundle, put it around Tom's neck, and dragged him to the French windows.

"Send the recording to Raphael! Immediately!"

"Woo-"

Tom's body trembled; the suffocation and fear of heights were frantically stimulating his leaky heart.

Death is above all else!
His finger waved in the air on the 42nd floor, and a few seconds later, John confirmed the signal that the document had been sent from the air.

John tied the other end of his tie to the window frame, then turned and ran toward the front door of the room.

Tom lost his balance and fell to the ground. He opened his eyes and saw the ant-like flow of cars. He was immediately awakened by the wind and grabbed the edge of the window, desperately trying to crawl back.

He turned around and saw that the mercenary had actually returned!

John jogged along and pulled out a stun gun.

"Sorry, I forgot."

he laughed.

Tom's wide eyes were filled with shock and pleading as he watched the stun gun pressed against his arm. It seemed that at that moment, he resonated with the dead data panel.

Blue arcs of electricity sparked on the flesh.

He convulsed, lost consciousness, and rolled out of the gap in the French window during his violent spasms.

Crash, bang—

The tie snapped shut, making a tugging sound.

Several seconds passed before the broken glass fell onto the street.

Sirens blared and news channel drones arrived.

The searchlight approached the gap and illuminated the body of a man who had been hanged on the outside of the 42nd floor of the building.

(End of this chapter)