“…You misunderstood.”
Jake chuckled helplessly.
He couldn’t imagine what the guy had gone through…
He pointed at the motorcycle nearby: “Bro, help me push the bike down, will ya?”
The delivery guy noticed the motorcycle as well.
He didn’t know vehicles well, but he could tell this thing was out of the ordinary.
The streamlined body, modified exhaust pipe, and even tires much wider than a regular motorcycle’s made it look heavy as hell.
“Are you dreaming?”
The delivery guy rejected him flatly: “This crappy building has no elevator, climbing up almost killed me, and you want me to help push a motorcycle?
Even a dog wouldn’t take this job!”
Only to hear a notification chime ring at just the right time: [User tipped 100 yuan]
“How about now?”
Jake waved his phone and asked.
“I’ll do it!”
Glancing at the phone notification, the delivery guy beamed with a full smile: “A dog won’t do it, but I will!”
Pushing the milk tea into Jake’s arms, the guy rolled up his sleeves, walked over to the bike, grabbed the handlebars, and tested the weight: “Holy shit, this heavy?
Where’d you get it from?”
“The landlord’s.”
Jake took the food delivery, talking complete nonsense with a straight face.
“The landlord’s?”
While pushing the bike with all his might, the guy wondered aloud: “Then why doesn’t he push it himself?”
“He doesn’t live here, this bike’s been sitting here forever, and I thought it was in the way.”
“Is that so…”
The delivery guy moved the bike toward the stairwell entrance with great difficulty, gasping heavily for breath from exertion.
After pushing it to the corner.
“Holy crap?”
He stopped suddenly: “Why are there bullet holes on this?”
“When the landlord was young, things were pretty chaotic around here, playing with guns and blades.” Jake followed behind, continuing his straight-faced bullshit: “The bullet holes were left behind back then.”
“Gangster, huh…”
The guy gave him a half-doubting look, and continued pushing while asking: “Why is there an American flag pasted on the bike too?”
“Just worshipping foreign stuff.”
With a serious face, Jake said righteously indignant: “I’ve been annoyed with him for a long time!”
Realization dawned on the delivery guy, and he didn’t ask anything more.
Two people and a bike, grunting and hauling from the fifth floor down to the first.
By the time they finally pushed the bike to the building entrance, the guy was already leaning against the wall gasping for breath, a layer of sweat on his forehead: “I finally know why you didn’t push the bike yourself.”
This job really wasn’t meant for humans…
“I have a heart condition, can’t do heavy exercise.” Jake straddled the bike and turned the key; the dashboard lit up, and the fuel tank still had half a tank of gas.
The delivery guy froze for a second.
So it wasn’t that he was afraid of being tired?
When he spoke again, his tone held a bit more sympathy: “With a heart condition, your family still lets you move out and rent a place on your own?”
Jake paused his movement of putting on the helmet, his tone devoid of emotion.
“I grew up in an orphanage.”
“???”
Are you combo-killing me with pity?
The delivery guy looked at Jake sitting on the bike—a slender figure, cheap clothes, the dilapidated residential building behind him, and that low-rent apartment with a rusted door earlier.
Then he looked at the 100-yuan tip on his phone, suddenly feeling like the money burned his hand.
Sigh, nobody has it easy…
To handle the crappy bike left behind by the landlord, he even had to pay out of pocket to hire someone to push it.
Ptui!
This landlord really is no good!
Just as the guy was growing indignant, Jake had already twisted the throttle.
Vroom—
The roar of the motorcycle exploded in the narrow alleyway, startling a flock of sparrows.
He looked back at the delivery guy, gave a nod as a farewell, then twisted the throttle as the bike shot out.
…
Haicheng’s afternoon was stiflingly hot.
Jake walked out of the bank, standing on the steps and dazing off as he looked at the diner across the street.
Mobile banking balance showed: 14,432.5 yuan.
Since this money was real, then those guns, grenades, and other weapons were ninety-nine percent real too.
Jake’s heart couldn’t help but beat a few notches faster.
Those things definitely couldn’t be seen by anyone…
He straddled the motorcycle with the 6th Street paint job, twisted the throttle, and merged into the traffic.
The engine’s restless roar clashed with the local army of e-bikes in Haicheng, causing several old men riding electric scooters to turn their heads, giving him hostile glares.
Jake didn’t care.
His mind was completely filled with that game.
In 2077, there was cyberware like the Second Heart; even the cheapest mass-produced version could allow him to live a normal life from then on.
If he got that installed…
Jake shook his head.
This thing required surgical implantation; where was he supposed to find a ripperdoc capable of installing cyberware?
Vik wasn’t in Haicheng either.
Red light.
Jake braked to a stop beside a bus.
The advertisement on the side of the bus was printed with a tagline for a top-tier hospital:
[Cardiothoracic Surgery: Minimally Invasive Surgery, Precision Treatment]
“Surgery…”
Jake looked at that line of small text, dazing off slightly.
Game currency could be brought into reality and successfully exchanged; money was no longer a problem for him…
The green light lit up.
Jake twisted the throttle to the max, leaving the bus behind in an instant, speeding toward his low-rent apartment.
…
Inside the game.
The bike was parked in the abandoned factory area of Watson Northside.
David leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, his fingers still trembling slightly.
He could move.
He really could move.
He raised his hand, balled it into a fist, and unclasped it.
The scraped wound on his palm transmitted real, sharp pain, but this pain brought him unprecedented peace of mind.
Phew—
David exhaled a long breath, slowly sliding down against the wall to sit.
That period of time just now was more grueling than being at Arasaka Academy.
Having his body controlled by someone felt like becoming a puppet on strings, forced to watch helplessly as he killed people and jacked rides, unable to even close his eyes.
What on earth was that thing?
A netrunner?
A hallucination?
Or…
David gripped the cross pendant on his chest tightly, as if he could draw courage from this ornament.
That lunatic could come back at any moment.
He had to figure out the situation before then…
He didn’t act immediately, but made a phone call first.
“David?!”
Gloria’s face emerged before his eyes in the form of a holocall.
She had just been about to call David to ask about the academy and the cyberware, only to receive a call from the kid.
“Mom.”
He said softly.
“Where are you right now?”
Gloria didn’t press or berate him immediately.
David was sensible.
She didn’t believe the kid would take that cyberware for no reason.
She was waiting for David’s explanation.
“The school has an activity…”
David didn’t answer directly, but stared at the ants crawling across the ground, lying with an expressionless face: “Extracurricular practice, going out for a few days, might not come home for a bit.”
“What activity?”
“Just…
that kind of leadership training activity, Arasaka Academy does them all the time, you know.”
“I haven’t heard of it.”
“Short notice.”
Another spell of silence.
“David.”
She didn’t press further about the activity, but asked softly: “Is it because of that cyberware?”
David opened his mouth, hesitating for a long time, before ultimately choosing to play dumb:
“What cyberware?
Haha.”
“You…”
“Mom, I’m hanging up, time to assemble.”
David hung up the phone, the holographic projection disappearing.
Gloria looked out at the bustling street traffic, David’s face seeming to linger before her eyes.
Lying.
The kid didn’t go to school at all.
David took the Militech implant, then didn’t go to school today, and called saying he wasn’t coming home…
He’s in deep trouble!
Gloria’s gaze shifted from panic to resolve.
She flipped through her contact list, finding a name—Maine.
She had stolen that cyberware originally to sell to Maine, and now that David’s situation was related to the implant, handing it over to him to handle was most appropriate.
She dialed the number.
Beep…
beep…