Chapter 45: Chapter 45: New Grudges? Old Hatreds!
"I’ve heard you guys have been under siege in the city, supplies cut off for a while now. Don’t end up dead by the roadside."
John tossed the funds card to the other party.
The small leader raised his neck, his artificial eye flickering. After verifying the funds were correct, he patted the car door. The exiles around him whistled lewdly, seemingly pondering where to have fun tonight.
[Mission Objective Updated]
[Deliver the cargo to the old bridge tunnel in the West District. (Not Accomplished)]
John pulled up the virtual net and set the Silver Rider into autopilot return mode.
Eisenberg’s sports car roared away, drawing the attention of the stationed sentries, their gaze suggesting he was a rich fellow.
Only the squad leader looked sideways in contemplation.
In front of John was a Calormen Company’s cargo van.
This model was the cheapest and newest on the company production line; many small courier companies that still hired live drivers used it for deliveries.
John climbed up to the roof using the side handrails, opened the waterproof sunroof, and saw the top feed port of the glass transport box.
Bang!
As soon as it was opened, the thing inside lunged at him, its mouth even covering the feed port, shaking the entire vehicle.
John tossed all the bags of fresh meat in.
The water instantly bubbled fiercely, heavy chunks of meat seemed thrown into a shredder, turning into debris in the blink of an eye, drifting everywhere.
The violent splashes even reached the roof.
John squatted and watched it feed, suddenly feeling the vehicle underneath them swaying sideways.
Soon after, a head clad in metal skin popped out, the exile leader climbed up to the roof next to him and looked into the water.
"Do you know this thing?"
John asked seemingly casually, adjusting his position to reveal the Gambler’s knife handle.
"I see you’re a messenger too."
The leader snorted twice, not biting the bait.
"Do you think rich idiots would come to the outskirts to trade themselves? Even without thinking, you’d know I’m just doing business for somebody else. Even if there’s a vendetta, it’s not on me."
John almost spelled it out.
But he noticed the exiles hadn’t dispersed nor opened fire, seemingly waiting quietly for something.
The exile leader’s eyeball flickered.
He seemed to be confirming something while following John’s cue.
"This is an oceanic whitefin shark."
"Bullsh*t, the river water here is toxic, let alone the sea? Animals that can survive in the wild these days are so rare they’re auctioned off."
John expressed confusion.
The exile leader laughed at his ignorance, a hoarse voice came from his metal throat.
"This is a biological replica, a Gaia Cells technology. They replicate extinct things for the rich and powerful, and these are genetically optimized. Look..."
He spat a thick phlegm into the water.
The shadow of the giant creature beneath the water seemed to stir, displeased by the interruption during its feast.
"It’s tough, can survive over half a month of hunger and isn’t picky about water quality. No matter how the rich folks raise it, it’ll live... I’ve heard it sells well as long as you can afford it."
He spoke in a sinister tone.
[Mission Objective Updated]
[Take down the exiles at the transaction site 0/15. (Not Accomplished)]
John glanced around.
The exiles had readied their guns and quietly blocked the entrance.
"Take the money and leave, won’t you? I have nothing to do with the tie clip."
"Ha, still on about that..."
The exile leader let out cold laughs, drew his assault rifle, directly tearing with his men. "You’re John, aren’t you? Did you take down Sarazi in the Eduor Region?"
"Sh*t, I thought you wanted to give me hell over the tie clip, turns out you’re after Sarazi?"
"Sarazi is Kelp’s brother."
"Are you f*cking kidding me? Saying they’re lovers is more believable than brothers. If they cared about loyalty... why betray their families?"
John sneered.
He found himself surprisingly calm when truly caught up in trouble.
"You guys are insatiable. Let me guess... the transaction money has to pay tribute to Ironfoot Kelp, by the time it gets to you, there’s barely anything left, so you want to take my head for the bounty?"
The leader’s vulture-like eyes narrowed.
His alloy jaw twitched, letting out a horrid laugh as if agreeing.
John pondered momentarily, meeting the leader’s gaze.
"I managed to kill Sarazi, why can’t I eliminate you?"
"Playing with kids? John, Damascus Camp is far from here, Nando won’t have a chance to save you. If you’re hoping for War Mother Alonna, forget about it. She won’t shed a tear for her pretty boy out here..."
The exiles laughed outrageously.
"Rumors have changed like this?" John’s smile faded, eyes grew sharp. "Times have changed, buddy; you really ought to take the money and leave."
As the leader raised his gun, a faint stream of light swept across his front.
His arm was cut off cleanly; just as the scream emerged, a side blow to the head knocked him off balance towards the feed port.
"Fu...f*ck, ahhh—"
The vulture head plunged into the fish tank, rancid, stagnant water rushed into his nose and mouth, the shadowy beast below extinguished his plea mercilessly.
Tat-tat-tat.
Bullets sprayed ruthlessly towards the rooftop.
John sliced down someone and immediately slid to the back of the truck to dodge the first wave of gunfire.
The truck door clattered under fire.
The screams inside the cargo hold died down in an instant; bodies dragged whole through the feeder port, subsequent clamor wilder than a couple’s passionate moment in a car.
The already eerie green water turned crimson-black soon after.
There seemed to be more debris floating.
John leaned against the truck, pulled out his gun and turned to shoot a nearby guard, then dashed up the wooden planks over the water into the building.
The factory was filled with curses and gunshots.
John adjusted his breath, crouched at the bottom of the farthest stairwell.
Exiles charged down from the balcony, the room was dim, the rapid change in light blurred their vision momentarily.
John relaxed, breathed instinctively, sideways drew his knife.
The single-molecule blade severed the link between prosthetics and flesh, its surface coating glittering in the dark, instantly killing two, the last guy just stepped with one foot.
John cut at his ankle.
But he chose not to pursue.
The balcony surely had guns targeting; sticking his head out carelessly would get him shot, and no need to finish—Samurai Sword Gambler was neurotoxic, infiltrating through wounds and killing the enemy if untreated.
Bam!
Window glass shattered.
Several grenades were tossed into the room, footsteps covered the roof, bullets whizzed around the staircase, clutter on tables shot apart.
Sunlight streamed through bullet holes in metal panels, continually creating new gaps.
John ran through dust-laden light beams.
He pulled the rifle bolt, sliding to find cover, immediately set up the rifle to retaliate.
[Weapon: Rongju Short-Nosed Crocodile K-1]
[Module: Ballistic Correction, Intermediate Armor-Piercing]
Exiles fell one by one, those heads hiding behind dwarf walls shrank back simultaneously.
John’s bullet count dwindled.
[△47/120]
His upgraded arms better controlled the kinetic energy rifle, military chip included advanced shooting skills, making reloads and searching for cover without wasted motion.