Cyberpunk: Nirvana of Shoko Toyokawa

She turned her palm and showed the compressed biscuits in her hand.

……

After stuffing a pack of compressed biscuits into the guard's pocket, Xiangzi and the bodyguards walked in between the guards who tacitly turned their eyes away.

This time, after walking only a few hundred meters, the scene was very different from before.

On the streets, highly saturated spray-painted graffiti with words like “Small Center Area > Dog Shit > City of Joy,” “Rat Paradise,” and “Big Garbage” began to appear.

The shops along the street are still unused, but some places have been simply renovated and repaired.

In the distance, neon lights in rose red and bright green were flashing, hanging on pipes and low multi-story building structures.

The ear edge prefabricated parts also gradually began to capture noise...

It sounds like a recent pop song.

The style is very mixed.

There are J-POP and light music, as well as heavy metal and rock.

There are not many neon lights, and the tubes used are of very low quality.

The sound system has very few tracks, and the volume is barely a whisper compared to the never-ending, super-loud, multi-track resonance of City of Music.

But this is enough to illustrate the problem.

“(There is electricity here.)”

The power supply at least supports daily life. There is even a surplus quota to supply these "entertainment facilities" for spiritual relaxation.

“(Same as the original [Infrastructure Zone], using solar panels?)”

Xiangzi thought about these things and continued to move forward.

It can be seen that despite the dilapidated environment, life still goes on.

Neon tubes formed crooked patterns between the narrow alleys, with slogans such as "Body for sale", "Pawn plug-ins - no red items (bloody items)", "Cheap accommodation and massage", "Alcohol, steroids, and e-cigarettes for sale", and "Prosthetic repair - absolutely affordable - death at your own risk" written on them to attract customers.

These slogans are not just on the first floor.

Second floor, third floor, underground floor, and second underground floor.

This is a crowded and three-dimensional place for refugees who have nowhere to go. On the walls as far as the eye can see, whether near the street or near the corner, you can suddenly see the pictures of these service facilities. There is no pattern in the location where they are hung. It is easy to imagine that the people who hang these slogans may not even stay in the same place for a long time: death, infringement and protection fees will appear at a certain moment and take them away from their former strongholds.

Deep in the alley, there are more voices than when we first entered [Comprehensive Area 1].

He still kept his voice low, whispering in a sharp and thin voice.

As the number of people hiding in the darkness increased, Xiangzi felt a sense of security.

"Hey, hey!"

A hoarse voice called out from the alley beside me.

"..."

Xiangzi looked over there.

A skinny, hunched old man waved at Xiangzi mysteriously.

"Buy...buy something?"

He looked around and opened his coat.

It was bulging inside, filled with [Quick Cracking] chips and separation chips.

...It looks like this kind of chip.

But I don’t know what’s inside.

"How to sell it?"

Xiangzi asked.

"Hey, hey... all the items are priced at 300 a piece..." the old man said, "Food and ammunition... can be discounted..."

There are even chip merchants.

Moreover, the term "equal prices" was used.

"(A bartering method... huh...)"

Xiangzi thought about it and walked forward.

"..."

Xiangzi felt his windbreaker being pulled.

"…Hey, you have to buy it after you see it?"

The old man said.

Deep in his deep eye sockets, his two prosthetic eyes began to flicker...

"is it?"

Xiangzi said lightly.

She reached out and smoothed out her windbreaker.

The small knife hidden under the wrist, with a cold glow, was pressed against the back of the old man's hand.

The old man's eyes moved nervously around.

"…Uh, I was kidding," he said. "Just kidding."

He repeated it several times, took a few steps back, and slipped away along the dark alley.

Chapter 394 Bar

“(Even chip merchants have them.)”

Looking at the back of the fleeing chip merchant, Xiangzi thought.

Chip merchants are like algae. As long as they exist, it means that the ecology of this area is in a relatively stable state.

Can loose and chaotic management really give rise to a "truce zone"?

“(…Calling themselves the “Small Central Area”, they really have something to offer.)”

It really feels like the [Central Area] with a level of danger plus.

Xiangzi thought.

Truce zone, guards, power supply, merchants.

These are not things that would emerge in a state of disorder.

There should be at least one force that controls or attempts to control this area.

“(I don’t know who actually has control over this place.)”

A businessman who entered [Comprehensive Area 1] with original capital?

A "cyber immortal" who has undergone complex cyber transformation?

The “refugee leader” chosen by natural selection among the refugees?

"..."

The last noun sounds a little familiar.

However, this is not the point.

If there was a de facto leader in this area, he would definitely have a general understanding of the resources that the refugees were plundering from the BCPD on a large scale.

Even if the four lost important BCPD "Stormer" weapons are not in the hands of this commander, he should have a general understanding of where they are and who has them.

"(If we can find this person, things will become very simple...)"

As Xiangzi was thinking about this, he glanced intentionally or unintentionally in the direction where the chip merchant had just run away.

"……Um?"

Xiangzi saw rose-red and dark blue neon strips outlining the word "Bar".

bar?

Don't talk about chip merchants...

There is a bar in this [small central area]?

……

A semi-underground house.

[Bar] The extra light tubes on the lower half of the light strip flicker below the entrance.

Narrow, nicotine-tar-smelling staircase.

The walls are covered with black velvet.

The walls were covered in wild patchworks of rags, rivets, and steel bars.

In the dim room, colorful lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating the dirty bar with unknown stains. Next to the bar sat a rough-looking homeless man with cheap prosthetics all over his body, reeking of motor oil.

These big guys poured drinks into their prosthetic mouths that didn't fit their jaws and spoke incoherently.

From time to time, someone would let out a shrill, hoarse laugh.

There were also people like this sitting around the round table at the back of the bar.

“(Business is pretty good.)”

Xiangzi thought.

She sat down in the only empty seat at the bar and raised her hand.

The menu written on the fluorescent screen included blood plasma, motor oil, nitrogen-melting drinks and various alcoholic products.

The prices all have one more zero than what the old man said, “300 yuan for other goods.”

However, Xiangzi had no idea how expensive it was exactly.

There were no sparkling or non-alcoholic drinks on the menu.

"..."

That’s okay.

The point is to find a reason to sit here.

"A cup of [screwdrivers]."

Xiangzi said to the bartender behind the bar, whose entire nasal cavity had been cyberized and turned into a series of copper pipes inserted together.

In Xiangzi's understanding, "Screwdriver" is a beverage made from lime, lemon, grapefruit or orange-flavored blenders and alcohol.

Supplies are scarce here.

Xiangzi had a feeling that he would receive a diluted product that was different from the one he received at the bar outside.

But when a real screwdriver soaked in a diluted alcohol solution was brought to him, Xiangzi couldn't help but frowning slightly.

The wine sucks.

The smoke was also bad.

Behind the scenes, someone suddenly got furious, slammed the table, and started fighting again.

The air was filled with the peculiar smell of electric welding after heating parts were triggered, but the people around just drank the alcohol that could no longer be called "alcohol" as if it was nothing special.

Xiangzi quietly turned on the sound pressure processor of his brain computer to increase the volume of conversations around him.

"How's the [ball]?"

"【Changeable weather】."

"Too little entertainment. How is the translation of [Tianfu] going?"

“[The soles] are not enough.”

"Can you give [plate] another try?!"