"Damn it, I knew it wouldn't be this simple!"
John clutched the metal barrel, vomiting violently.
[Carrier overheating, calculation error, please use inhibitors in time.]
He caught his breath and touched his neck:
The veins were throbbing abnormally, and his body temperature was rising.
John's expectations were too optimistic.
The Black Light in his mind hadn't disappeared, text tasks continued to update as usual, and cyber psychosis, of course, wouldn't just heal on its own...
"Damn it."
John cursed against the wall. "Looks like I need to use inhibitors regularly, or I'll gradually weaken like before."
[Shop - Black Engine Restaurant]
There were a lot of customers at night, all with unusual appearances, speaking freely. John sat at the corner of the bar, hiding himself at the edge of the light.
He buried his head to fill his stomach while sorting out his thoughts.
The inhibitor recipe was in his head; he just needed to replicate it.
Most of the materials could be bought on the market; the rarest item was a prosthetic body with residual data.
That wasn't hard either; he could ask around the black market or search the junkyard.
He was pondering when...
Genius walked over.
He handed over the restaurant duties to the bartender, mixed a glass of Rock 'n' Roll Whiskey in an octagonal glass, and pushed it in front of John.
"If you're not dead, you should drink something good."
John raised the glass in a toast and poured it down his throat.
"Whew~ Shit, that's strong."
"Don't be so picky, I've toned it down a lot. You did a great job on this gig, the camp tipped you a bit extra."
Seeing he was distracted, Genius laughed, "No thanks?"
John wiped his mouth, grabbed his coat, and shook his head:
"I helped them save a Thunder Miles vehicle. Do you know how much an MT450 is worth?"
"Alright then."
Seeing him about to leave, Genius added, "Damascus Camp has a good impression of you; there will be more job opportunities."
"Got it, Chief."
John waved a hand and returned to the employee break room.
The metal sliding door muffled most of the noise from the restaurant but still didn't reach the standard for quiet solitude.
Better earn some money soon and rent a place.
[Mission: New Beginning (Completed)]
[Reward: Blueprint for Collector Robot [Model-T05]]
John received new information in his mind.
A blueprint for a robot with an unknown purpose, along with its internal principles, technical documents, and serial numbers.
"Quite mature technology."
John suddenly had an idea:
He searched for Model-T05 on Eden City's public network but found no matching information, indicating it was a never-before-released product.
The task reward only provided the blueprint; he'd have to gather materials and manufacture it himself, considering the inhibitor list...
"The procurement task is quite heavy."
John stood up and left through the restaurant's back door.
He pulled up his coat hood and proceeded through the dim, damp neighborhood, passed through the bustling, dusky red-light night market, and entered the familiar underground passage.
Seductive women, mysterious men, illegal deals.
The area was filled with stench, danger, and gunfire...
John stood before the familiar rolling door.
The surveillance camera scanned him, and rock music with poor quality blared from inside, quite different from the gang tastes on Oil Drum Street.
"Hey, you're a regular now."
The cabinet had legs up, with cash and bullet clips scattered on the table, along with prosthetics and chips that hadn't made it back to the shelves.
"Business is good, huh."
"Not bad, not as exciting as yours. A group of Exiles hit Damascus Camp's goods in the morning and got wiped out by evening."
The cabinet wore a black half-armor mask and had an ugly smile.
"You were the driver, right, John?"
"How did you know? The news spreads too fast."
The cabinet gave a look of realization.
"Damascus Camp intentionally spread the news. They've recently recruited many new members. Nando's gang was just making an example to warn other forces in Eden City not to stir up trouble at this critical moment."
The cabinet turned on the monitor, showing the evening news.
The aerial footage displayed a pile of charred vehicles and bodies.
"If you're here to fence goods, you'll have to wait until tomorrow. You know my rules for buying and selling goods. If you're in a hurry, sell them to other vendors."
John shook his head.
The T05 Collector Robot required modification from existing products, conditions were harsh, not something easily bought on the market.
"I need a Hound Excavator, new model α, with dual hydraulic pipes and a solar module. The most important thing, it must have an original company chip."
"Wow, you're knowledgeable."
The cabinet was slightly surprised since John didn't seem like a tech guy.
"By the rules, I shouldn't say more, but I must mention that as a substitute for a digging dog, Jingke Heavy Industry's BK series has higher ratings…"
John shook his head, not changing the list.
After a moment's thought, he added, "I also need a control chip, industry's integrated system, with a VI-level firewall."
The cabinet laughed and raised a hand, leisurely lighting a cigarette.
"If you had asked for something like this yesterday, I'd have kicked you out instantly…"
"Why, not willing to make money?"
"If an unknown wants to buy nuclear weapon components, do you think the bigwigs of military enterprises would give a damn?"
The cabinet raised a finger toward the TV.
"Everything happening on the streets is watched by eyes, intermediaries, vendors, gang leaders. The black industry has a unique reputation system."
"If you make a name for yourself in Eden City, do a good job, and get along with others, you'll earn street reputation. Vendors and prosthetic doctors will sell you special items."
"Some top-notch goods aren't for the mundane. Only those recognized are qualified to use them."
[Street Reputation Increased↑]
[Black Market Unlocked More Products]
"Following the Gunfire Queen to do a deal today, the underground world of Oil Drum Street already knows about you as a newcomer."
The cabinet made a rock gesture and chuckled.
"So, I accept your order. Need a day to prepare. If the price is acceptable... come pick it up tomorrow night."
John confirmed the quote.
The items were expensive. Tomorrow, he'd sell the Exiles' loot and delay plans for renting and a vehicle.
"Place the order, thank you."
He didn't leave immediately and wandered around the shop inventory to see what new items were unlocked.
The cabinet displayed a batch of prosthetics and chips.
These were all good things that improved survival chances.
John couldn't help but ask, "How good are Alonna's prosthetics?"
"A legendary figure, buddy, I saw the news, full of high-precision heavy sniper armor-piercing bullet casings, barely compatible with few guns. Each shot could shatter an entire arm..."
The cabinet spoke with enthusiasm.
John envisioned the vehicle tilting backward in his mind.
Without a company background, surviving on the streets required solid strength. Still, he had to figure out how to arm himself.
The following evening, after a rest.
John arrived as promised, cleared the loot, and took his ordered goods.
He went to an electronics store to buy a better editor and supplies, then carried a pile of stuff on a long journey to a familiar suburban landfill.
The blueprint provided by the mission was a secret, not suitable for operating in the restaurant's employee break room.
After much thought...
Only the landfill, rarely visited by people, was suitable for doing some open-ended experiments.
John was thankful his arm was modified.
The standard company-issued prosthetic, although cheap, could meet most engineering needs and was quite practical.
After a while, the mountain of garbage appeared in sight.
The hoist crane and unmanned cleanup vehicles silently shuttled back and forth. The heavy-duty machinery for cutting and pressing was all in silent mode, only activated at fixed times.