Chapter 71: Chapter 66: Access Intervention and Close-Combat Training
John hung up the phone and sat at the bar with a bitter smile.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a titanium hand.
[Item: Energy Drink]
[Effect: Neural protection, sensation amplification]
Tinfoil pushed the bottle of drink over.
She propped herself up on the table, flipped her body onto it, and sat down.
"Plato experimental subdermal armor, the stuff from the bounty order, where did you get it?"
"I did a job with Damascus Camp, robbed a transport station under Ironfoot Kelp’s name. It was tough, his unlucky henchman almost killed me."
John picked up the drink and chugged it—it was barely sweet, with a stimulant kick, and an aftertaste of rust.
"This stuff doesn’t sell well, huh?"
"Imported goods."
Tinfoil surfed the web as intensively as other hackers, wearing a hooded tech overalls with a protruding metal interface at the back of her head, specifically for deep diving into networks.
She was a professional hacker, the best kind.
"You’re a bit green, to be honest, John. Among the street rookies, you’re doing okay, but you’re still far from being a legendary mercenary."
"What do you mean?"
John asked.
Tinfoil picked up the half-drunk bottle.
She pointed the plastic bottle at John, shaking it lightly, the dark liquid visibly agitating inside.
"You could easily die from theft, robbery, or even a car accident, just one mishap could end you, like in a bar..."
"Ah, f*ck."
John interrupted, somewhat embarrassed.
He knew what Tinfoil was talking about—getting beat up badly by Hoffman at the Static Bar.
"I didn’t say anything, but you sent the video to Eden, and he told me to come to the company for some training."
"You definitely need it."
Tinfoil shrugged. "If one day you run into a cyberpsychopath while drinking, or a high-handed violent maniac, wouldn’t you be screwed?"
"You’re underestimating me."
"What if it’s not you who makes the first move, but the other party suddenly attacks? Say, encountering a robbery, and they shoot you in the back without a word, with no warning or mental preparation, what’s your chance of survival?"
"I... who wouldn’t stumble in such a situation?"
"Eden will never die in an accident; if he dies, it can only be a premeditated and highly costly assassination operation."
Tinfoil used the boss as an example.
"You have a long way to go before you become a legend, needing a lot of experience and honing."
John had nothing to say.
"Follow me."
Tinfoil didn’t continue the idle chat, got up, and led him to the combat training room on the same floor.
It was a spacious rectangular room.
Each surface was composed of mismatched rectangular patches, and as they stepped forward, the light strips and metal panels automatically activated, and a console filled with wires descended in the center.
A projection appeared beside them.
It had no face, dressed in tactical gear, using a cold mechanical female voice to provide device guidance.
[Welcome, soldier, please select your...]
Tinfoil’s prosthetic eye flashed, instantly taking control of the device.
The projection disappeared.
She spoke again, her voice coming from the hidden speakers around.
"Connect the data cable, let me guide you through."
John hesitated a little.
[Mission objective updated]
[Connect to the Harbor Company’s training system. (Not completed)]
A mission progress screen popped up in front of him. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled out the data cable and plugged it into the terminal.
John felt it was just a normal access.
Black Light didn’t go berserk.
It seemed nothing happened.
He hadn’t even sighed in relief when he heard Tinfoil say:
"Get ready, I need to input your personal information first, then debug the custom parameters, you need to integrate the prosthetic body to properly use the training system..."
Tinfoil didn’t finish her words.
Black Light went berserk.
John’s pupils dilated instantly.
He seemed to see a string of text flash before his eyes.
[Detected hacking... Iris projection... Secondary central nervous connection... Anomaly... Information... Subsystem information confirmation...]
John’s muscles stiffened somewhat, followed by dizziness and a severe headache.
The moment he collapsed onto the workbench, he pulled out the data cable from the port but still saw the text prompt in the last second.
[Harbor training system. (Hacked)]
[Carrier overheating, computation aborted.]
"What the hell!"
Tinfoil’s prosthetic eye flashed.
She directly yanked off her sweatshirt from the hem, revealing a military-grade deep diving suit beneath the tech jacket.
It was used to protect a hacker’s flesh, preventing the user from getting charred during deep network operations.
The mechanical arm hung down.
Tinfoil remained standing, slumped over the operation rack, her prosthetic eye flashing continuously, the data slot blinking with yellow lights.
John felt his whole body heat up.
The situation he most feared happened:
Black Light would automatically destroy any smart product it physically touched, with the resulting burden borne by his body.
Dizziness, heat, weakness, and fuzzy consciousness.
Dammit, this is awful!
Tinfoil disconnected in only two minutes.
She looked at John with a complex expression, just as the company doctor burst through the training room door.
John began to feel groggy.
He recalled the days waiting to die in the junkyard, dimly feeling someone fiddling with his head.
"No..."
John lifted his hand weakly, blocking the data cable, only to find himself lying on a bed in the rest room.
The military doctor was staring at him.
"You need a check-up, buddy, I need to connect your biometrics to see how bad it is, you look like you’re about to drop dead."
John suddenly covered his mouth, his throat working hard.
"Hoo, hoo, move aside!"
John pushed the military doctor away and ran towards the bathroom, the metal door closing behind him.
"Ugh—"
He collapsed over the toilet, vomiting messily.