ccnovels Chapter 501 319: Employee and Boss
Chapter 501 319: Employee and Boss
[Name: Wals [Cassette]][Faction: Mercenaries [Team]]
[Scan: Alloy Skeleton [Titanium], Argus Prosthetic Eye - Manta Ray, Blood Pump, Sianweistan - Isaac Military Industry Purge 2.0, etc.]
John looked at the sharp-edged Eastern European man in front of him.
"Sorry, do we know each other?"
"We would've, but you were dead before we got the chance to meet."
Wals bit hard on the word "dead."
He wore a visibly worn yet well-maintained tactical jacket, beneath it a dark gray turtleneck, with MOLLE webbing for gear attachment.
"Well, finally, someone who can call out my name."
John raised an eyebrow and said in a relaxed tone, "Where's Raphael?"
"She's busy, go wait on the second floor."
Wals appeared in the hall, and the gunfire immediately stopped.
His expression was indifferent, walking and talking like a cop, signaling others to clean up the mess, while tearing off his bulletproof vest.
Three bullets fell from the barrier netting, clattering onto the ground.
Wals didn't bother with John anymore.
There was a lot of mess to deal with in the showroom.
Silver Rider 577 had smashed the reception bar, part of its car body embedded in the wall of the workspace, with smoke still emerging from the hood.
John found a girl huddled in the corner for shelter.
Knock, knock.
He lightly tapped the bar, like a customer handling business.
"Please, repair the car, change what's needed, and... give me a cup of your best coffee here, oh, double the sugar."
The girl flicked her dyed gray hair, not quite recovered from the gunfight.
She pursed her faded lips, trying to get back to work, her fingers randomly sliding on the terminal, finally asking the first question.
"Sir, I need your biometric information."
"Ask your boss."
John waved her off, heading towards the second-floor lounge without looking back.
His biometric-linked account was empty; the nearly wrecked Silver Rider 577 was the most valuable thing he owned, no exaggeration.
Raphael would solve the problem.
John sat in the egg-shaped chair, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window.
Here, one could overlook Kaufuglanton Auto Sales Center's repair area.
Though called a repair area, its actual scale rivaled an airport shuttle station, with rows of workspaces filled with vehicles awaiting dismantling or repair.
Vehicles of various price ranges.
Gaudy emblem sprays.
Various illegal and legal modifications.
A car sent in would be dismantled beyond recognition in minutes.
John daydreamed while staring out the window—Raphael could earn a lot even without the middleman business.
But this thought was quickly overturned by himself.
Without those city legends' phone numbers, Raphael wouldn't have the business she does now.
The wait was longer than expected.
The sales center people actually brought a tow truck to drag the scarred Eisenberg supercar towards the repair area.
Then came John's coffee.
A nameless, expensive bean, very sour, very bitter, certainly higher-end than the apartment vending machine stuff.
No sugar added.
John finished the whole cup, and the rain that started upon entering the city finally stopped, the sky gray and indistinct in time.
Dawn merely seeped with light, stripping away the neon filter of the entire city; the night's heavy rain left traces of a slick black road and damp air.
John sat in the lounge for half the night.
He wasn't bored; on the contrary, watching Raphael's employees clean up after the gunfight in the showroom was quite interesting.
This group took just two hours to remove the wounded, bullet marks, and broken furniture and equipment. The glass couldn't be restored, so they simply wrecked the frames for an open-air showroom.
The blood was cleaned thoroughly.
New cars were driven into the rotating showroom; once the portable spotlight shone, guests from Eden City started arriving one after another.
Gang rookies, young mercenaries, clandestine hackers, black market vendors.
No one could tell there had been a gunfight here last night.
During this time, customers went upstairs, and occasionally, strange scans fell on him, but no one greeted him, treating him as another mercenary waiting for service to finish.
Which was indeed the case.
Until a girl in leather pants and a glossy jacket sat opposite John.
She crossed her legs on the sofa directly facing him, her hair short, with no need to be swept aside to reveal the chip on her neck.
Raphael.
She didn't say a word, looking at the mercenary before her with interest.
"You fired first."
John spread his hands in indication.
Raphael laughed, unconcerned.
"Can't believe Kenichi Sora really traded his life for yours." She squinted as if trying to dig out some secret from John's face, asked in a low voice, "How did you convince a wandering AI to die for you?"
"Illegal racing, killing, buying guns, fighting."
John counted on his fingers, his tone very calm.
Raphael seemed a bit surprised. "Wow, you really don't mind me discussing its death. I thought... you'd be resistant, sad, like you really lost a friend."
"You want to understand me?"
John looked at her.
Raphael maintained her smile, without speaking.
"If I put a bullet in Ryan Randall's head, you'd understand how I feel losing Kenichi Sora." John smiled too. "Haha, I'm joking. The doctor is my friend too."
This time Raphael didn't laugh.
"Are you threatening me with Ryan?"
"You fired first."
John repeated.
Raphael nodded, with no hint of anger. "Why are you looking for me?"
"Buying information, where are my people?"
"Your people?"
"Gerry, Maya..."
"Oh, wait, I mean, your people." Raphael seemed a bit confused by John. "Dying does change you, where's the indifferent, responsibility-avoiding John gone?"
"They're not dead, right."
John didn't reply directly.
Raphael didn't press further, switched tones.
"Then let's handle business officially. Information trade, vehicle repair costs, I'll all count on your bill. No need to pay, wait for my call, you'll work as a mercenary to settle the debt."
"Looks like business is good for you, oh, I mean the middleman business."
"Certainly, in the four months you were gone, opportunities to make money in the city multiplied. I spent all night dealing with clients, but I'm glad you're back, just the right time to fill the lack of capable hands."
"Deal."
John didn't hesitate.
[New Contact - Raphael]
Communications updated.
Several notification emails popped up.
[Welcome to Kaufoglandon Auto Sales Center...]
[Your repair order is complete, detailed bill...]
[The greatest sex doll artistry in the world is...]
Spam flooded out all at once.
Any blank account that handled business in Eden City would be thoroughly polluted by spam.
Welcome to Eden City.
Silver Rider 577 was already repaired.
John wasn't planning to linger. As soon as he stood up, he heard Raphael, across from him, ask while tilting her head.
"What are your next plans?"
"Reopen the restaurant."
John spoke out the thoughts he'd pondered all night.
Raphael nodded.
"Very nice, welcome back to Eden City."