Cyberpunk: I didn't cheat.

The rain in the city of night is like a layer of oil stains that can never be wiped off, plastered on every piece of glass, every face, and every conscience.

Vito's target was a black Villefort—the company's middle management's favorite understated model, with an exterior like a coffin and an interior like an operating room.

He sneaked into the car, and three seconds later, the door lock let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

He slipped into the shadows of the back seat, like a drop of ink falling into a glass of water, spreading silently.

Twenty minutes later, Lin Jiro arrived.

The deputy head of the 13th squad of the Arasaka Security Department, 43 years old, was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tie clip a miniature version of the Arasaka family crest. When he opened the car door, he didn't even glance at the rearview mirror; the company's employees were used to the world automatically making way for them.

With a low growl, the Villefort glided into the rain, and the company dog ​​suddenly caught a whiff of blood.

When the car reached the blind spot where Sixth Street meets the bridge, Vito moved.

First came the sound: the hammer of the revolver was slowly pressed up by the thumb, and the metallic scraping sound was like an ice pick piercing Lin Jiro's eardrum.

"Keep driving, all the way to the underpass." The voice crept out from the shadows of the back seat, close to the back of Lin Jiro's neck, "Don't hit the brakes, don't turn on the lights, don't make me think you're looking to die."

Lin Jiro's Adam's apple bobbed. He didn't turn around, but he saw a corner of a glowing mask in the rearview mirror—a square, the flowing city night scene, like a portrait without expression.

He did as instructed.

Under the bridge arch, rainwater was blown diagonally by the wind, hitting the bridge piers and breaking into mist.

Lin Jiro turned off the engine, took his hands off the steering wheel, palms up, as if surrendering, and Vito inserted a signal jamming chip into him.

"name."

"Rinjiro."

"Position."

"Deputy Commander of the 13th Team of the Arasaka Security Department".

Tell me something I don't know.

The barrel of the revolver was gently pressed against Lin Jiro's temple; the metal was as cold as ice.

Lin Jiro closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, his eyes were bloodshot. He was a discerning man; when he climbed up from the bottom of the Arasaka Army, he dealt with modified guns every day. This Malorian Overture could definitely shatter his head at this distance.

"What do you want to know? Are you from the military science department?"

"Be mindful of your position. Only I can ask questions. Let's talk about the Tiger Claw Gang first. Any new information?"

"Last month, Tiger Claw Gang disposed of a batch of 'defective products' for us—volunteers who failed prosthetic tests. We paid them, they provided the venue and manpower, and finally, they collected them all in a strong acid pool. The bodies were turned into Mewtwo materials and then sold to middlemen."

Vito almost laughed.

"Volunteers? That's an interesting way for a corporate employee to put it."

"What kind of experiment is it, and who is in charge?"

Lin Jiro hesitated for a moment, but finally spoke.

"The project's code name is 'White Porcelain.' The security manager is my superior, and I have no authority to know anything else."

Vito didn't speak, but lowered the gun barrel slightly, pressing it against the back of Lin Jiro's head.

"continue."

"The guy from the Tiger Claw Gang is called Jotaro Seiho. He used to work with prosthetics. He was a contractor at the Arasaka Medical Department, and later went solo. He's in charge of modifying 'flawed products' into something that can be filmed—cutting nerves, installing inhibitors, and preserving pain sensation. He has a location in a back alley in the Kabuki district. The address is a pseudonym, but I know his real name."

"explain."

"Kenji Kurosawa, behind warehouse number 44, blue roller shutter door, second floor. He has a mechanical cat named 'Rin,' which bites."

Vito laughed, and the night scene on his mask suddenly accelerated, like the city rushing forward.

"money."

Lin Jiro paused for half a second, then gestured to Vito that he would open the glove box. He took out his company chip wallet, then reached into the inside pocket of his suit, and stuffed both anonymous Euro cards into the back seat.

"It's 30,000 in total, the cash is in the trunk..."

"not enough."

Vito pressed the barrel of his gun back against his temple, and this time, he pulled the trigger.

It wasn't a firing, but rather the empty magazine hammer falling, making a crisp "click".

Lin Jiro was stunned for a moment. In that instant, Lin Jiro wanted to gamble that Vito's gun was unloaded, but the bloodstains on Vito's body told him that this man was definitely a madman.

"I also have a private account, the password is..."

"No need, let's get out of the car and talk."

Vito interrupted him.

He made Lin Jiro open the car door, and rain poured in instantly, soaking Lin Jiro's suit.

"get off."

As Lin Jiro stepped out of the car, the neon lights outside the bridge arch were shattered by the rain and fell on his face like colorful knife marks.

Vito stood behind him, the muzzle of his revolver pressed against the back of his head.

"Kneel down."

Lin Jiro didn't move. He was preparing to find an opportunity to activate the Sianweistan. He tried to attract Vito's attention with words while looking for a chance.

"I've given you everything you wanted, there's no need to humiliate me anymore, is there?"

Vito pushed his gun forward slightly.

"What? Afraid of getting your suit dirty and not being able to kneel down?"

Lin Jiro couldn't figure out Vito's background; he didn't know if Vito was a company assassin or some reckless mercenary.

"If you can put down your gun, then we can talk about much more."

"Oh? What else can we talk about?"

Lin Jiro continued to use language to attract Vito's attention, his pupils suddenly contracting, a sign that the supersonic prosthetic mode was about to be activated.

"If you want money, you can join Arasaka. We can offer more than other companies. There's an old Chinese saying, 'A wise man submits to circumstances.' Why don't you..."

boom!

Gunshots.

The punishment exploded with a deafening roar; the large-caliber bullet from the Malorian Overture pierced right through Lin Jiro's head.

Because of the many prosthetic parts that were installed on his head, Lin Jiro's head did not explode like a watermelon.

"Why are you pretending to be a China expert with me, you little devil?"

Lin Jiro fell forward, his face buried in the puddle, blood gushing from the hole in his head, turning into a pale red stream washed away by the rain.

Vito fired a few more shots, then went to the back seat of the car and picked up the money chip.

He started the car, and the Villefort's engine roared as it sped into the rain.

The night scene on the mask still flows, only slower, as if the city has finally grown tired.

He turned on the car stereo, tuned to the temperature radio station, and randomly played an old song – "I Really Want to Stay at Your House".

The singing mingled with the sound of rain, like a funeral that no one listened to.

After the song ended, the radio station played another hit by the band Fierce, "Ponpon Shit."

Vito drove to Taiping, a place that the NCPD had officially declared abandoned. He parked the car not far from the large shopping mall, got out, and walked away.

Several burly animal gang members set up a tent not far away and started shooting for fun.

Upon seeing Vito, the members of the animal gang laughed.

"Hey! Square Head, didn't your mom teach you to use an umbrella when it rains?"

"Which lousy doctor installed this TV set-top box for you? Hahahaha."

"Stop wasting your breath on him, Square Head. You're in the wrong place. This is the Animal Gang's territory!"

Vito didn't say anything, but instead drew his Punishment and fired, shooting the Animal Gang member to pieces.

"grass!"

Bang bang bang bang!

Vito continued to shoot the others into a pile of parts.

Finally, Vito dropped the hacked money chip and disappeared into the night.

The rain is still falling, like the tears that the city of night can never wipe away.