John's entire spine was burning hot.
He frowned and looked around:
The four assassins who had been close to him were dismembered, their blood mixed with organs flowing toward the oil-stained trash can.
One of their helmets had a notch cut into it.
Rain and light poured in, vaguely revealing an East Asian face, shocked and speechless.
John, panting, crouched down to loot the corpses.
He felt like he was back when he just started on the streets, always wanting to gather some spoils with nothing but the clothes on his back.
[Equipment: Black Motorcycle Leather Jacket]
This group of killers was all equipped with Sianweistan, with micro-circuit cooling devices inside the jackets, magnetically attached to the spine, and he could feel the effect shortly after putting it on.
"...Pretty nice."
John realized:
The people who attacked him were not cheap, they were at least more formidable than the ones he encountered while driving last time.
Who wants to silence him?
