"You know, killing him doesn't mean anything, right?"

John stood beside him with his arms crossed, expression calm.

If Gino shot Bismarck, the three of them would have no chance of leaving the Source Formula.

"F*ck, of course I know."

In the end, Gino didn't draw his gun, nor did he move his gaze, but kept staring intently at the mechanical arms cutting into Bismarck's flesh.

John lost the desire to communicate as well.

The sound of twisting arms intersected, and the air was filled with the stench of chemicals mingled with blood.

He inexplicably recalled the dim underground clinic in the East District.

The environments, equipment, hygiene conditions, and grades of medicine were worlds apart.

Although John didn't understand, just the precision down to the pores of the incisions was more professional than Ryan Randall, that drunkard.

But truth be told,

the dim clinic felt safer.

The doctor changing John's dressing once shared an example.

A medicine magazine once said the heart appears by day 21 and starts beating around day 30, never stopping until death.

It was a romantic notion from a biological perspective.

But now?

Street clinics can do extracorporeal circulation with heart stoppage.

A slightly upscale black market can install an auxiliary heart with two pumps, connect dozens of artificial muscle bundles, and even leave a central slot for a chip.

John now stood in the medical self-service area.

With AI assistance, mechanical equipment didn't require human intervention to perform advanced surgery.

Clearly.

This surgery, enough to outshine any underground clinic in Eden City, was definitely not the medical limit of the Source Formula Research Center.

John finally realized:

Why there was always a sense of disconnect in conversations with corporate dogs and wealthy elites.

They could "standardize" life.

They had lost reverence for the flesh.

"You know what I'm thinking?"

Gino's voice pulled John back to reality from his wild thoughts.

"Maybe this place can save your life, and of course, it could save Macao... his last two check-up reports weren't optimistic, and blockers only alleviate the virus's erosion of his organs."

"Have you considered an organ transplant for Macao?"

"Of course I've considered it, but replacing a heart or installing other things needs money... that's why I've been trying risky business these past years."

Gino sighed and turned to look at John.

"We're just talking nonsense, don't tell Macao, he always worries."

"I understand."

[Custom Channel: File Transfer/Default]

"Hey, I found a lot of good stuff."

Sisal Rope's voice came from the corner.

He had cables plugged into his head, the signal light of the network access pod flickering, and was holding mini devices on both sides of his arms that were incomprehensible.

A small window popped up in John's vision.

Graphic and text information with the Source Formula logo kept popping up, overlapping, along with various experimental video records, with soundtracks overlapping, sounding somewhat chaotic.

"These things were actually made by the Source Formula."

Gino's ability to organize information was stronger than John's.

Her eyes wandered, occasionally frowning, seemingly interested in a few of the studies.

Sisal Rope put away his equipment, saw Gino was still browsing, and couldn't wait to speak to John.

"Transplantable animal skin was quite popular a few years ago, and there are legally modified living pets and bionic robotic assistants with weapon systems... did you know?"

"I've seen the ads for these things."

John scratched his nose and asked him back.

"What's there to be excited about? Any product has an origin."

"But they all come from here, damn, you really don't understand. I met a girl with transplanted simulation skin at an offline gathering, so damn soft, those ears and paws just so tempting to look at!"

"..."

John lost the desire to continue communicating.

He knew Sisal Rope was a complete mess in terms of relationships, and he wasn't keen on reminding him that he was deceived at a similar "offline gathering" not long ago.

[Intrusion detected, network connection failed...]

[Prosthetic body disabled: 12%]

A red alert suddenly popped up in John's vision.

[Authorization rejected/Default]

Black Light automatically activated, terminating the intrusion program.

"F*ck!"

John instantly broke free from the hacker intrusion, turned around, and with one in each hand, pushed Gino and Sisal Rope behind cover.

The whole room started to glow red.

The emotionless electronic voice from the speakers warned people around not to interfere with the surgery.

But no one cared.

Cobalt blue arcs twisted in the narrow room, almost grazing John's back as they landed on the floor and walls.

The electronic sliding door of the operating room opened at some unknown point.

A spray of intelligent bullets shot directly into the room.

John held the two tightly down.

Sparks danced amidst the mechanical arms and the red exclamation mark projections.

Bismarck lay quietly at the center of the crossfire, on the treatment chair, his open chest and bloody arms already in the final stages of the procedure.

The room was in chaos.

Having dodged the initial shots, John calmed down.

If the enemy was truly lethal, a group of thugs would have stormed in by now, drowning them in stun grenades and non-lethal weapons.

Bismarck had not been shot, which was the best news.

The enemy didn't want to harm him.

[Prosthetic: Messiah-Medusa V]

John even had time to observe the arcs on the wall.

He was almost certain:

The attackers were using high-precision smart weapons, with the "non-lethal mode" activated, bullet power wasn't high, automatically avoiding vital organs.

John moved his gaze downwards, noticing Sisal Rope's ears were bleeding.

From the sudden attack, he pieced together the cause of the incident—Sisal Rope hacked into the Source Formula's network, surely triggering the firewall, and now the security department was hunting them down as intruders.

"F*cking hell, dumbass, I knew you'd mess things up!"

Gino reacted even faster than John, instantly realizing Sisal Rope caused the trouble.

She clutched her bleeding arm, gritting her teeth as she dug out the shrapnel embedded in the surface of the faux leather, grabbing the rolled gauze to staunch the bleeding.

[Access... retry, authorization denied/Default]

Mosaics flickered intermittently in John's vision.

The network security department was remotely intervening the intruders. Although Black Light blocked the first wave of their intrusion tactics, since they were inside the facility, effectively exposed under the firewall's nose, continuous interference would ensue.

Gino wrapped up her bleeding quickly, grabbed the data cables and the micro control board immediately.

She's taking over Sisal Rope's network address, deploying more agents, at least to shield John from the enemy hacker's influence.

Gino knew very well:

The warning shots would soon stop.

When security personnel poured in, John was the only mercenary on site, and their only hope.

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