My Cyber Psychosis is Task Prompt-Chapter 309 - 175: The Wanderer and the Farmer

"The places covered with advertisement signboards and holographic projections become more dazzling and more numb. When a knife slices through the skin, revealing nothing but buffering liquid and metal inside, it makes me feel suffocated."

The glass bottles clinked again.

The remaining amount of alcohol inside varied, and thus the crisp sound of the collision did too. The droplets on the walls trickled down, moistening the spaces between fingers.

"I will miss Eden City, including you."

Besides the Wanderers, the most abundant presence in the Radiant Dust Farm was the staff wearing a uniform attire, employed by the farm owner, recruited from various channels, responsible for the production of fresh ingredients and daily reception.

They always had behavioral chips inserted in their necks.

John needed to handle raw material collection, find the appropriate window to verify biometric information, then authorize the account access to Maya and Gerry.

The staff member was a slender girl with brown skin.

"Each customer has a fixed quota. Angelica’s share has been transferred to your account, resetting quarterly. Details are in your email..."

Her head was encased in a black helmet, with metallic edges and signal lights covering everything above the bridge of her nose. As she was explaining to John with a portable terminal in hand, she suddenly paused.

"Mr. John, the boss wants to meet you."

The staff member picked up the terminal, leaned to the side, and gestured for him to follow.

She led John through the industrial-style elevated floors and the main hall of the building, where a sightseeing elevator was already waiting silently.

Ding, zoom—

The panel numbers changed continuously.

The elevator doors opened to the sides during the ascent and transformed into transparent bulletproof glass, allowing a clear view of:

lands planted with various fruits and vegetables, fenced areas housing animals, fishponds installed with detection equipment...

Staff in full protective suits shuttled back and forth.

The Radiant Dust Farm was a high-rise skyscraper that overlooked the entirety of Eden City. Who would have thought it to be an eco-farm within?

The elevator stopped on the guest floor.

The area was stacked with gold-colored haystacks.

Downstairs was a waiting area, surrounded by walls made up of holographic projections and high-definition screens, rendering in real-time and playing scenes of old-style manors from the last century.

At that time, the land wars hadn’t broken out yet.

The farm owner seemed nostalgic about those days, apparent from his attire and behavior—hand-made cowboy hat, old leather flight jacket, and the typical stubborn and tough style of a landowner.

"Please wait, the client hasn’t left yet."

The staff brought John a tray containing three differently shaped glass bottles, two with varying concentrations of alcohol, and the other pure water, alongside an upturned, steam-dried glass.

Select your drink as you please.

There’s also a water bar nearby for free customization.

Soon, sounds of a conversation could be heard from the indoor stairs, as a few corporate suits emerged from the office, the hard soles of their premium leather shoes clattering on the steel-structured staircase.

[Scan detected, no sign of hacking.]

A group of bodyguards escorted the employer down the stairs, brushing past John who was sitting on the sofa.

Cradling his glass of pure water absentmindedly, John activated his cybernetic eye, sweeping across the area, and noted it was filled with advanced implants.

[Faction: Jingke Heavy Industry Security Department]

[Counter-scan plugin detected, access? / Target out of range, please adjust focus...]

The bodyguards deliberately blocked the line of sight.

Their black suits seemed to be coated with a special treatment, causing the optical eye to lose focus and unable to retrieve information. Forced scanning would trigger the opponent’s alarm system.

The senior executive at the middle of the burly bodyguards was a middle-aged Caucasian man.

With an indifferent expression and greying hair at the temples, he glanced at the young man on the sofa as the elevator doors slowly closed.

John found the face vaguely familiar.

He recalled later seeing them at Mr. Vito’s office door; that day, Mr. Vito also explained to him the relationship between the company and the gang.

Soon after.

Bone Shards rapidly gained momentum, becoming the Speaker on the streets for the Black Gold Gang, while Mr. Vito gradually vanished from public view.

"John, are you downstairs? Come up, let’s have a chat."

The farm owner’s voice brought John back to reality.

The second floor was a private space.

John reached the end of the steel-structured staircase, twisted the golden round handle, and pushed open the wooden door painted white.

The room was very spacious, simply furnished, with the most prominent features being the oak-colored plank flooring laid throughout and the blazing fireplace at the far end.

John didn’t feel any heat and immediately realized that the fireplace was merely a high-definition holographic projection. The surrounding vintage furniture also simulated last-century designs while containing advanced technology internally.

The farm owner was nostalgic but not outdated.

He lay reclined in a wooden rocking chair, revealing his head, waving at John.

"Come over here, young man."

The familiar flying jacket and cowboy hat hung on the rack nearby.

John navigated around the sofa components and room partitions, and as his view expanded, he abruptly saw:

The farm owner’s trouser legs were rolled above the knees, tanned skin with hair, sliced along tattoos, exposing an alloy skeleton and a complex meniscus structure.

Two enormous mechanical arms extended from the floor, servicing his high-grade prosthetics, with two IV tubes inserted in sequence at the base of his thighs and near his heart.

The mechanical arms peeled back the farm owner’s muscle bundles and real flesh layer.

The air was filled with a faint bloody scent and a straw-like odor similar to pressed wheat sheaves.

The farm owner picked up the half-bottle of whiskey at his side and started pouring a drink.

John glanced over, immediately noticing a gift box with a golden logo placed beside the tray; inside was surely an invitation card from the Bolago Club.