Ficool

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: Camp

The tail flames roared as the shell was fired.

[Mission Target Update]

[Eliminate Exile 0/11 (Not Achieved)]

Words flashed before John's eyes, and a violent explosion erupted ahead as the van and two accompanying modified cars all flipped over, rolling in the thick smoke.

The numbers flickered.

An enemy was already down.

The emptied gun barrel was discarded, the steel clanging and skidding along the road surface.

Alonna pulled out a sniper rifle with a scanner, without support clips, directly propping it up on the co-pilot's roof.

She didn't wait to slow down, firing into the wind and across a kilometer distance.

Bang!

John distinctly felt the car slightly lurch backward.

On the glass, one by one, red dots vanished, and blood spattered, punching a piercing gap through the thick smoke.

Bang, bang, bang…

Alonna steadily fired, her powerful prosthetic absorbing the recoil, the scorching hot shell casings clattering over the roof towards the road behind.

John gripped the steering wheel tightly, focused on driving.

Beep beep beep~

The onboard system issued a warning.

Suddenly, a bright rocket shot out from the black smoke.

Alonna furrowed her brow, finely adjusting the gun barrel and squeezing the trigger, the armor-piercing bullet cracked the casing but failed to detonate it.

The two were hundreds of meters apart, clearly seeing the bomb flying towards them.

John used his elbow to nudge open the driver's side door.

Realizing he planned to abandon the car, Alonna, too, prepared to jump out through the sunroof of the co-pilot's seat. Just as she gathered her strength…

The entire car suddenly lost balance.

John didn't run; instead, he one-handedly drifted the cumbersome vehicle, pulling it sideways entirely.

He raised his silenced pistol, shooting through the co-pilot's emergency escape point, the bulletproof glass shattering outward with a bang!

The rocket arrived just in time.

It scraped past the co-pilot's window, across the suspended glass shards, past Alonna's abdomen, and past John's chest…

Shooting out from the driver's seat.

A moment later, an explosion erupted off the side of the road.

A heatwave, accompanied by dust, surged towards them.

The tires of the off-road vehicle screeched as they gripped the ground, spinning in place, then resumed running after turning in the correct direction.

"You!"

Alonna sat back in the co-pilot's seat, her heart pounding, her abdomen still warm from where the rocket ignited.

She cleared the sniper and reloaded, pulling a close-combat rifle from her bag.

John, with a serious expression and controlled breathing, bore signs of soot on his windbreaker from the gunpowder.

Given the proximity of the missile earlier, abandoning the car would have been the safest option. Still, as a seasoned driver from a struggling company, having braved even more dangerous transports, he couldn't easily give up his dream vehicle.

The crash site was close.

Two exiles jumped out, half of their heads cybernetic eyes, their arms modified into gun blades.

They leaped over ten meters, charging towards them.

The car tilted slightly, concentrated bullets rapping against the bulletproof glass, sending ripples with the defense index on the display decreasing.

Stray bullets whipped into the car.

John ducked as quickly as he could, feeling a few dull pains on his body, while also grateful he had bought a bulletproof vest.

Gunfire was intense.

Alonna's shooting precision was extremely high, one of the enemies crash-landed, shattering into pieces of minced meat.

The other landed on the hood.

She blocked with the gun butt, adjusted the barrel, and shattered his jawbone.

"They have infrared scanning, too, with white phosphorous rounds."

While Alonna spoke, she kept on firing.

John heard the command, bending down to pull a white disc from the bag.

Alonna took it and flung it, exploding with countless white dots, small tracking rounds trying to attach to nearby lifeforms.

Burning with high temperatures, the thermal imaging turned into a blinding white field.

She exited the car, rifle in hand, shooting ahead, the blue prosthetic eye presenting various data, executing close kills, quickly clearing the scene in the smoke.

[Eliminate Exile 11/11 [Completed]]

A mission prompt flashed before John's eyes, as a final gunshot rang out, leaving only the sound of burning around them.

[Converse with Alonna [Optional]]

[Retrieve goods, complete transport (Not Achieved)]

"Cleared out, come down and move things."

"Huff, on my way."

John jumped out of the car, crossing the battlefield, to see the overturned van and old clothes scattered all over the ground.

Fortunately, the boxes weren't damaged and could still be packed back in.

Once everything was recovered, the police still hadn't shown up, clearly no one wanted to deal with a shootout in the outskirts.

John hesitated for a moment: "Can you spare a moment?"

"As you please."

Alonna's tone is always unruffled, whether in killing or normal conversation, she remains exceedingly calm.

She was observing John, then...

This man searched every pocket of each corpse, cleaned out the cash and loot, removed the bio-chips, and even covetously eyed the Exile's prosthetics.

Alonna couldn't help but remind him:

"It's best not to touch the Exile's modifications, they're filled with a lot of viruses and illegal protocols."

"Alright, let's go."

John dutifully started the van, completing his primary job of delivery.

The second-hand dealer wasn't lying, the car audio in this small van was indeed impressive, no wonder even the Exiles would want to snatch it.

He tuned into the highway radio, the journey didn't feel too lonely.

[New contact created - Alonna]

"Hmm?"

John's contact list updated, and then a call came in.

In the Cyber Era, communication chips and data slots are as common; just a data link allows for calls, messages, and neural transmission.

Alonna: "Where did you drive before?"

John could see the MT450's front through the rearview mirror.

If he lied or the other side discovered the vehicle was hacked, a sniper rifle might just take aim at him.

He answered honestly:

"Tiebang Logistics, low-level transporter, five years of driving experience."

"Why were you fired with such skills?"

"Accident, goods exploded, a very cliché story, but you, I'm curious how you shoot while driving yourself."

"..."

The other side was silent.

Just when John thought the conversation was over, the voice came through the headset again.

"The driver helps me drive."

"Why didn't you bring him this time?"

"He died."

"..."

John remained silent, not asking the cause of death.

The two vehicles, one following the other, with the radio playlist on loop, approached a settlement in the suburbs.

[Eden City - Damascus Camp]

Alonna accelerated to overtake, leading John into the warning zone.

This was a Wanderer gathering place.

There were motorhomes, tents, well-crafted sheds everywhere, with signal towers and public facilities, and even sentry posts set up around the perimeter of the camp.

Alonna was highly respected.

Her car entered the best repair area, where several technicians cooperated using the best materials in the camp for repairs and maintenance.

Cyber Era.

Corporate wars and disorderly expansion had claimed over ninety percent of land under corporate banners, forcing farmers to become the earliest Wanderers.

Then, over the long years...

Wanderers clustered together as families, forming large forces, each surname split into numerous camps, moving between different cities, seeking work and development.

John sat in the car smoking.

The Damascus Camp was recently expanding, the surging population and approaching winter heralded a larger resource gap.

Family ties made them as close as family, supporting each other, taking pride in building the camp, and enjoying resources and shelter.

If anyone crossed the line, they would be kicked out, becoming the "Exiles" they'd just encountered on the road.

They formed larger groups, committing all kinds of evil.

Knock, knock, knock.

A burly man knocked on the car window.

He was smoking a cigar, muscles bulging, handing over a signed clipboard.

John took it, the delivery note signed [Nando]—this muscular man was the leader of Damascus Camp.

"I can leave now, right?"

"Yes, be careful on the road, oh, you're John, right? Payment was sent to the account Genius gave me, say hi to him for me."

"I will."

"Alonna said you're a good driver, with all the things happening in the camp lately, if there's a job opportunity, can we contact you?"

"I'm unemployed, she has my number."

John started the car.

Nando waved his arm, biting his cigar, giving a hearty wave goodbye.

John drove back to the city, returned the car to the second-hand dealer, and couldn't help but daydream as he walked back to the Black Engine Restaurant.

"I should get a means of transportation."

He checked prices online, Alonna's beast, not to mention the upgraded modules and modifications, was insanely expensive even just as stock.

"Ah, money."

John longed to go back.

Besides Genius's commission payment, there was an unknown task reward in his mind.

A sudden dizziness hit him.

More Chapters