Above the Blood Moon

Freud checked his appearance one last time, his meticulous figure reflected in the mirrored wall.

"Delia".

The personal assistant immediately emerged from the shadows of the corridor. Because her outfit clashed with her master's, she changed into an elegant dark blue uniform dress in less than ten minutes, her face bearing a well-trained and respectful expression.

"master."

"Notify the security team to depart in three minutes. Remember, I want them to maintain the highest level of alert throughout the entire operation. Everyone must demonstrate their true value."

Floyd paused, and the data stream in his golden pupils flickered.

"I don't pay the security company 300 Star Alliance Credits every month to have them fail me when I need them; they're worthless people."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his personal assistant understood what the second half meant.

People who have no value do not deserve to live.

"Understood, sir."

The personal assistant gave a slight bow, her communicator on her wrist lit up, and she quickly issued instructions in a clear and crisp voice.

Three minutes later, three black hovercars stopped in front of the villa.

The first vehicle was the lead car, equipped with a miniature phased array radar on its roof. The second vehicle was Freud's main car, its streamlined body gleaming with a dark silver-gray luster under the blood moonlight. Its chassis was 20 centimeters off the ground, and its hovering engine emitted a deep hum.

The last vehicle was an escort vehicle, in which four fully armed security personnel could be seen, each wearing uniform black tactical armor.

Freud nodded in satisfaction.

He opened the car door and sat in the back seat of the driver's seat, with his personal assistant in the passenger seat. As the car door closed automatically, the sound insulation layer activated, instantly shutting out outside noise.

"Set off."

The hovercar drove out of the Silver Moon Manor villa area and into the main road of the Mirror Lake Wharf area.

A blood moon hangs high in the sky.

But unlike the stark despair of the Desolate Town, the Mirror Lake District presents an eerie prosperity at night.

Neon signs lined both sides of the street, stacked one on top of the other, each flashing wildly, trying to grab the attention of pedestrians. The light and shadow flowed across the car windows, like some kind of never-ending carnival.

The sidewalk was crowded with pedestrians whose modifications varied.

A young woman walked past Freud's car window; her legs below the knees had been replaced with mechanical feet with reverse joints, and LED lights built into her ankles changed color with her steps.

She was holding the hand of a boy who looked about seven or eight years old. A palm-sized transparent panel was embedded in the back of the boy's head, through which one could see the densely packed chips and wires inside.

That's the Olympiad's latest popular knowledge visualization transformation, which supposedly allows children to master thirty basic subjects before the age of twelve.

Well, it turns out that no matter the era or period, parents' anxiety about their children's education never stops.

Further ahead, a group of young people dressed in flamboyant outfits were gathered in front of a shop.

They were covered in glowing decorative threads, and the glowing tattoos implanted in their skin seemed to writhe like living things in the dim light.

One of the girls even replaced her hair with some kind of translucent fiber optic material, with each strand of hair acting like an independent display screen, looping abstract art images.

They were laughing loudly and excitedly, holding metal cans of synthetic drinks with GG slogans constantly changing on them.

"Drink it, and tonight we'll all be royalty!"

"The blood moon is eternal, the revelry never ends!"

The hovercar drove past a casino, where a huge holographic projection unfolded on the building's exterior wall, showing a scantily clad female dealer smiling and winking at passersby.

A long queue formed outside the casino, including well-dressed company employees and low-level workers with little rehabilitation. They all wore the same expression, a mixture of despair and near-mad hope.

It's as if as long as you step over that door, sit down at the gambling table, and have enough luck, you can cross that bottomless class divide overnight.

Freud looked out the window at everything, a faint smile playing on his lips.

He liked this false prosperity; it was at least more respectable than the naked despair of the ruined town.

At least everyone here is trying to play their part and following some unwritten rules.

You can be crazy, you can be decadent, you can transform yourself into whatever you want to be, but you must show a desire to move up the social ladder, you must show a determination to climb the social ladder.

This is the law of Mirror Lake District, and also the law of the entire Forgotten City, and even the entire modified human faction.

"Delia," Freud suddenly spoke.

"Sir." The assistant in the passenger seat responded immediately, turning his body slightly to reveal the perfect profile of his face.

Floyd raised his hand and lightly tapped the car window with his fingertips.

"Do you think these people really believe they can climb up there?"

The personal assistant was silent for two seconds.

"I don't know, sir."

"They believe," Freud answered himself, his voice tinged with a mocking pity. "They have to believe, or they won't survive, like a drowning person who has to believe there's a straw in front of them, even if that straw can't support their weight."

He paused, then looked out the window further into the distance, where the outline of the company district could be vaguely seen at the end of the Mirror Lake area.

It was a completely different scene, without the crazy neon lights or the crowded masses.

There were only angular buildings there, with their exterior walls uniformly made of dark silver alloy, exuding a cold yet orderly aesthetic.

That is the true center of power in the Forgotten City; Mirror Lake District is merely its front hall, a buffer zone for people to revel, vent, and numb themselves.

"My father will never understand that when he was exiled here from the middle of the Olympus Ring, he was filled with resentment, resentment at not being able to stay in the center of civilization, and resentment at being sent to this godforsaken place."

The hovercar drove across a bridge.

Beneath the bridge lies Mirror Lake, its waters rippling with an eerie dark red light under the blood moon. Several ornately decorated pleasure boats float on the lake, and music drifts from them—a soothing classical melody.

"But he also seized the opportunity. Seventy years ago, after the great war between cyborgs and AI, the Deep Space Graveyard was officially taken over by us cyborgs, and Forgotten City entered a period of rapid development. He took advantage of that opportunity and built this business from an ordinary company employee."

His fingers tapped lightly on his knee.

"Then it was handed over to me."

Freud closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"When I took over, the company was valued at only 5,000 Star Alliance coins. Now? 50,000, a tenfold increase. But my father never understood one thing until his death: money is not the goal; social class is."

He opened his eyes, his golden pupils shining brightly in the dimly lit carriage.

"He saved money all his life, but never thought of using that money to leave this place. He thought that making the company bigger and stronger was success, and that being a local tyrant in Forgotten City was glory."

"madness."

The word carried a cold weight as it came out of his mouth.

"True glory lies in the Olympus Ring, in the heart of civilization, where the air you breathe is filtered pure oxygen, the water you drink is natural mineral water, and the food you eat is real plants and animals that grow from the soil."

Freud's voice trembled slightly, the deep-seated desire that almost consumed him was becoming uncontrollable.

"I dare not dream of the upper level, but at least the middle level. As long as I can enter the middle level, I can truly get rid of this mark from the Forgotten City."

The personal assistant remained silent, simply listening quietly with a perfectly respectful expression on her face.

But Freud didn't mind; he even thought it was a good thing.

He turned his head to look at his personal assistant's beautiful profile.

So beautiful...

Freud suddenly remembered the "breathing mural" in his basement.

Artworks created by culturing living lung tissue on canvas, which expands and contracts in response to the viewer's breathing.

A personal assistant's lungs... must be beautiful too, right?

He imagined the organs rising and falling slowly in the nutrient solution, and the rhythm of life as they contracted and expanded with each breath on the specially made canvas.

But he quickly suppressed the thought.

I have important business tonight, and artistic creation can wait.

As the hovercar entered the company area boundary, an invisible energy barrier swept across its body, and a green "Permission Granted" message appeared on the display screen inside the car.

The lead vehicle and escort vehicle stopped at the border, and the security captain reported via communicator.

"Sir, external armed forces are not allowed to enter the company area. We can only escort you here."

Freud nodded.

"Stay put and keep communication open."

"Yes."

This is the rule of the company zone. Yadea Technology, the agent of the six major companies in the Deep Space Graveyard, has absolute authority. No external armed forces are allowed to enter, and violators will be killed without exception.

But Floyd wasn't worried about causing trouble in the company area.

That would be tantamount to challenging the authority of the six major corporations simultaneously, and declaring war on the entire camp of modified humans.

The main vehicle drove into the company area alone, and the streets instantly became empty.

There were no neon lights, no noise. Freud looked out the window, his heart beating slightly faster. This was the world he longed for, and even Olympus was more beautiful than this.

One day, one day! He will achieve it, may the Blood Moon bless him.