My Cyber Psychosis is Task Prompt-Chapter 289 - 165: Old Friends and Little Troubles

The guy with the nose ring was clearly more knowledgeable.

He fumbled to open the side compartment — the magnetic panel vanished, revealing the Rapid Runner submachine gun embedded inside.

The high-end product from Raqi Industry immediately elicited cheers.

The hoodlums shrieked and scrambled to feel the cold alloy texture.

"You won't be able to pull it out..."

John's voice drew the gang members' attention.

Various thoughts flashed through their minds, realizing that the speaker was the motorcycle owner. As they turned their heads, they adopted a premeditated vicious demeanor, even preparing facial expressions...

But when the hoodlums turned around, they saw no one.

They blinked, seemingly glimpsing a fleeting shadow that suggested a short-haired man in a work jacket should have been standing there.

Two hoodlums, wielding spiked baseball bats and outfitted with combat prosthetic bodies, felt their ears ringing and heads buzzing. They were the first to react, screaming and fleeing as fast as they could.

The other hoodlums were alarmed and, following their instincts, scattered away from the motorcycle. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

After the crowd cleared, they found the guy with the nose ring lying on the ground.

John stepped on his head with one foot.

A crimson pool was spreading on the ground.

John's prosthetic eye blinked, activating a Sianweistan teleportation to the front of the vehicle, taking down the rudest guy — fractures and unconsciousness were guaranteed, whether he had neck injuries or asphyxia depended on luck.

"Shit, how did he..."

"Did anyone see him?"

"Hey!"

"You motherfucker..."

...

The hoodlums erupted when they saw the scene clearly.

John shook his head, his prosthetic eye flashing, repeating his earlier words in a calm voice.

"You won't open it like this...you need to unlock the weapon first."

[Authorization: UNLOCK]

He reached out and grasped the Rapid Runner.

Click.

A faint yet crisp sound rang out.

John swiftly drew the submachine gun, turned, and pulled the trigger. Blue arcs burst forth, dispensing ammunition, the smart bullets piercing the air steadily and swiftly.

The hoodlums' counterattack lagged behind.

The brief gunfire ended.

They collapsed, writhing and bleeding.

Some squeezed the trigger but shot bullets skyward. The ones who activated Sianweistan were forced to halt, falling wounded at a distance.

These individuals were even more terrified.

Outfitted with melee implants, they must have known their inferiority, understanding clearly that their eyesight and Sianweistan did not compare to John's level.

"...Ah, oh~ sorry, I, hiss..."

The speaker dragged his leg to move away, his expression fearful.

"I didn't know...it was your...bike...sorry, you're always driving supercars, I...didn't recognize it..."

"You know me?"

John raised an eyebrow, changing magazines in front of the guy, nodding after obtaining an answer from his expression.

"That's good."

[Street reputation increased, area influence unlocked.]

"I didn't kill you because I couldn't be bothered to move the bodies, but you need to be grateful. Hmm, I just had a fantastic mashed potato lunch with beer, so I didn't let your brains splatter out and ruin my mood..."

John checked the injured one by one, scavenging easily obtainable valuables, his expression and tone very serious.

He picked up the dropped metal bat, skewing the head of a muscular man trying to resist. It worked well; the rest even voluntarily handed over cash.

The amount wasn't much, as gang members on the streets mostly invested their money in prosthetics and entertainment.

The focus was on the attitude being right.

John nodded, seeing the ground turning crimson under the sun, delivering a final warning.

"You should know that mercenaries make a living by killing. Tell your boss to steer clear when fighting for territory; I believe he won't want to see me at work."

He squatted down and patted the pale face of the person lying there.

"If he doesn't listen, mention Du Remon from the Rift Party and Ironfoot Kelp from the Exile...they're both bosses with many subordinates, and they ended up as part of my portfolio."

John slowly got up, eyes cold, and mounted the motorcycle.

The roar of the Alloy RCH echoed through Oil Barrel Street, fading away as it headed toward East District.

John rode amidst the skyscrapers of Eden City.

The series of tasks prepared outside the shop continued without giving further hints or steps, relying solely on his own ingenuity to solve them.

John didn't dwell on the recent minor trouble but instead began searching his contacts for a second person who might help.

[Contact - Barry Kit [Voice Call]]

[F*ck, what a breeze, are you riding? John, you better tell me you're hustling for a living and not cruising, or I'll black list you because I've got a ton of shitty problems.]

John tried to whistle, but failed due to the wind pressure.

"Then I think calling you was a bad idea, so let's keep it simple. I need a delivery vehicle, preferably one I don't have to pay for, or allows for installment payments, you know..."

[...]

The sound of hitting and horns came through the phone.

Barry was likely fully equipped, sitting in a patrol car. The city was messy and full of violent incidents. As a colonel in Eden City, he was undoubtedly rushing to various crime scenes.

[What am I noted as in your contacts? A car thief or dealer?]

"Uh, I was actually thinking if ECPD has any seized vehicles to handle, I can exchange them through labor. Also, you should have a lot of Separation Chips in your evidence room; could you ask if there are any decent recipes available? I opened a shop..."