My Cyber Psychosis is Task Prompt-Chapter 288 - 165: Old Friends and Little Troubles

Genius shook his head and simply said it hadn't come to the point of killing someone yet.

"Why did you come to me today, anyway?"

"I opened a shop, wanted to get some advice from you, and also wanted to know where I could get a vehicle, and maybe some recipes to support the store…"

John expressed his needs following the topic.

Genius didn't mention needing John to back him up but instead inquired about more details and specific circumstances.

When he learned that John had secured a 200-square-meter place, in a pretty decent area, he clicked his tongue and shook his head, indicating there was real potential; might as well quit being a mercenary and go into business instead.

Genius spoke very rudely.

But old customers knew this guy had a warm heart, was well-liked on the streets, and was a solid, reliable guy despite being big, broad-shouldered, and having two metal prosthetic limbs.

He didn't have many ambitions, stayed calm like an old man, and valued his existing life, advising those around him to settle down.

John focused on eating, occasionally nodding in agreement.

He licked his lips and rinsed away the spice and grease with beer.

"I'm no longer some street kid fresh out of society; now all this comfortable life is built on fists and gun barrels. Doing business is just a bonus; once the main gig stops, it's a waiting game for death."

"That's why I'm not keen on letting you help out."

Genius crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed, speaking with a kind of seasoned philosophy in his tone.

"John, think about it, you help me hold the ground, face off with those gangsters, and then the next day you get hit by a stray bullet or die in some unforeseen explosion or mission...what do we have left, except for accumulated vengeance and hatred, who can we rely on?"

His gaze at John seemed to pierce through countless similar yet different figures, finally overlapping on the young man in front of him.

"Lone Wolf should just look out for himself, don't get attached, and definitely don't easily form attachments. In this city, once you have a weakness, one day, a knife will be suddenly plunged in..."

Genius withdrew his glance, picked up the freshly cleaned empty glass beside the bar, and wiped off the water stains.

"Don't worry about me either, having survived to this day, I'm not short on friends or connections, but like I said, street kids haven't reached the point where I need to take them seriously."

John remained silent without refuting.

Genius didn't continue lecturing, instead began giving him advice. There were many solutions to the delivery vehicle issue, and several channels for the restaurant menu problem.

First off is hiring a professional chef.

Protein mush and ready-made meals dominate in the Cyber Era, but it doesn't mean people who can cook well have disappeared; in fact, among ordinary citizens, those who can use common ingredients or industrial prefabs to create good flavors often emerge.

Eden City has a huge floating population. In areas with a slower pace of life or countries that aren't highly industrialized, there still exists a large number of family kitchens.

John hadn't looked into this before.

Even during his time at Tiebang Logistics, his memories didn't involve coming across such people. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

In the minds of single men like them, food only existed in vending machines and stalls and shops in street corners and alleys, while their narrow apartments or cheap rental rooms at best had a microwave.

"You're just starting a business, seeing only expenses with no return yet. Unless you have partners joining in, don't consider hiring; otherwise, you might end up bankrupt, and people wasted their efforts following you."

Genius advised John to first find ready-made recipes in the early stages.

"I have two Separation Chips on hand, but they mostly consist of prefab meals from convenience restaurants. However, there are a few snacks where you could consider replacing the frozen ingredients with fresh ones."

[Chip: Kitchen Helper Deluxe [2047 Edition]]

Genius fetched some things from the storage and handed them to John.

These recipes could only serve as references; seasoning and proportions needed repeated trials in the kitchen before they could be served.

Fortunately, Gerry and Maya had work experience; handing things over to them should suffice for handling it themselves.

But that still wasn't enough for John's restaurant.

Genius said he could look online or in the black market for those kind of general goods traders; sometimes by chance, he might encounter chips documenting food recipes while browsing the streets.

During the early years of developing the new network, during the information's second explosion, it became trendy to use chips to record all sorts of strange things. It's definitely possible to find genuinely usable recipes among them.

John currently only knew a grocer called "Cabinet," but this guy had been out of contact for a long time, and his phone only led to voicemail.

"Well, I got something out of it."

He finished the last sip of beer, expressed his gratitude, and gave a twenty percent tip when paying.

Before leaving, Genius suggested asking other shop owners.

John furrowed his brow as he returned to the scorching sunlight, the sound of the restaurant's glass door bell ringing behind him.

He patted his coat to run the cooling patch at low power, looped around to the faded spray-painted wall, and saw gang members surrounding his Alloy RCH, laughing and chatting.

The leader was a man with a nose ring, long and thin arms, with matte protective film covering the surface of his prosthetic limb.

[Faction: Renas Party]

They were the new power in Oil Barrel Street as described by Genius, mostly comprising minority ethnic groups and European stowaways.

The nose ring guy was touching the bike handle, but due to the system lock failing to start, or perhaps because the leather seat was scorching hot under the sun, he hadn't climbed on to feel this high-end motorcycle.

But their expressions and attitude were anything but polite, and even openly displaying their combat prosthetics and weapons, ready for trouble and seizing assets.