A brief spark ended the life of Agave Rope.

The skyscrapers of Eden City roared, chewing on the living souls residing within them.

Countless messed up things happen every day.

Agave Rope wasn't special, nor was he striking.

His story could only earn a little ridicule and abuse on illegal radio, and that's just because of the special products from the company that managed to make it into a segment.

What haven't mercenaries seen?

Compared to Agave Rope, John actually cared more about Gino's condition—she's a good person who values her friends.

Gino pulled out an e-cigarette from her waist pouch, smoking silently.

Her gaze wanted to drift into the distance but was blocked by the massive buildings, forcing her to stare at the twisting holograms and take deep puffs, emptying her mind in the fog of smoke.

The buildings on Sakura Cross Street are denser than the solder points on an electronic component.

Those cheap apartments and Kabuki Theater are rooted like proliferating cells in the crevices of the buildings.

As night fell.

Holograms and neon lights flowed down, drowning everyone's soul.

Gino stood in the corridor, smoking less and less frequently, as if trying to figure out how Agave Rope maintained his sanity amidst such brilliance.

Apart from fuzzy Cat Girls and other illusory things, what else could be a spiritual support?

E-cigarettes can wait.

John's yellow tobacco had curled to the end.

He flicked away the cigarette butt, giving Gino some space, and returned to the room to tidy up the scene alone.

There was no body bag at the scene.

John could only find some waterproof materials to improvise, first bundling Agave Rope up, then quickly searching the suicide scene and cleaning up large debris and overturned furniture...

He then turned his attention to the Cat Girl intelligence device.

John stepped forward, using a folding knife from the bar to pry out a chip from the wreckage.

It had slight scorch marks, the black-purple part had lost its sheen.

[Collectible: RTH Chip-770125 (Damaged)]

[Description: A product of the custom soul project from Source Equation, severely flawed, extremely costly to produce, not yet mass-produced. All relevant experiment personnel and testers are registered deceased.]

John hadn't obtained collectibles in a long time.

Such things are relics, recording some slightly regrettable or lamentable stories.

[Mission: Business Monster (Completed)]

[Reward: Project Key [Bismarck], Compensation [Part of Bismarck's Bribe], RTH Chip-770125 (Damaged)]

Notification popped up.

On paper, this task was concluded.

However, task completion doesn't mean the matter is entirely settled.

The troubles left by death are always for the living to handle.

John washed the blood off his fingers, returned to the corridor, and told Gino about the chip.

Agave Rope had contacted Bismarck.

Source Equation might soon learn of his death.

The Cat Girl chip falls under undisclosed technology, so the project team will deploy field personnel to retrieve scattered products.

By holding onto it, John was also taking responsibility and consequences onto himself.

What was he afraid of?

As long as Gino wasn't implicated.

So, only one question remained—how to deal with Agave Rope's body?

John nodded toward the "body bag" by the sofa.

He had killed many people.

Too many to count.

Yet he had never pondered how to properly dispose of a body.

Gino understood his hint and began contemplating the issue.

If ignored, Agave Rope's body would naturally decay in the rented apartment.

The foul odor would waft.

Sewage would seep downstairs.

The buzzing insects might disturb other tenants.

The rental company would ultimately dispose of the body along with the trash once complaints were received.

Someone in a close relationship ought to take care of Agave Rope's corpse, right?

But he was doing terribly.

A socially challenged internet hacker, relying solely on single-handedly completing jobs to sustain himself. Nobody, including intermediaries, knew him. If it weren't for Gino being part of the Wanderer Alliance, his physical trace wouldn't even have been discovered.

From this angle, Agave Rope was a successful hacker.

But the more legendary the hacker, the lonelier the process of dying. Many renowned figures fade silently from the world.

Most people don't know they're dead.

So there's an old joke circulating in the bars.

[Perhaps one day, in some landfill, they might uncover the corpse of a god of the internet.]

Agave Rope's social tree was withered to the extreme.

Family branches nearly blank.

No loving kin exists.

If speaking of close relations, only some members of the Wanderer Alliance remained.

According to Gino.

Members of the Wanderer Alliance are social islands, many hackers are even unwilling to interact with other members, only maintaining a solitary connection with Serum.

"Then that's settled."

John spread his hands.

"Send a message to Serum and have her handle it."

"..."

Gino didn't speak.

Serum is a fluid AI.

The matter felt like a leaking auxiliary heart, persistently pumping unease into Gino's mind.

She didn't voice it.

But even John could see—Gino was becoming increasingly apprehensive about Serum and the Wanderer Alliance.

A fear beyond the ordinary.

The ash from John's cigarette fell toward the damp, dark alley.

"You're overreacting a bit."

"A fluid AI is just talking data. It thinks like a human, but through cyberspace, you can't even distinguish it, yet they're... completely different from humans."

Gino gently bit the mouthpiece of the e-cigarette.

"I've seen them blow up substations, clog information channels with traps, fry hundreds of hackers' brains, just to achieve some stupid goals."

John nodded, not refuting.

He too had experienced a fluid AI rebellion.

Recent intercity train derailment, a speeding steel serpent forcefully slammed down from the overpass, paralyzing three blocks.

The ruined buildings, direct and indirect casualties were incalculable.

And the cause was just a fluid AI "retaliating" against a former cyber surveillance agent.

Their "emotions" are insane, their value system distorted.

John was on that train, lying in a pool of blood repeatedly losing consciousness, heart stopping several times, gasping for air at the edge of blurred consciousness...

Thud.

Recalling that made John frown.

You can't determine how many died in that incident.

Restoring the intercity rail took over a month.

But John didn't develop a shadow over fluid AI.

He knew they were dangerous.

But just... not scared.

John himself couldn't explain why.

He opted for silence.

Gino didn't elaborate on the topic, continuing to stare at the building across—her e-cigarette rhythmically flipped between her fingers, knocking gently on the railing.

John knew she had something on her mind.

About Serum.

About Agave Rope's death.

John didn't pry.

If Gino really spoke of troubles, talked about friends' deaths, discussed psychological obstacles, John wouldn't know how to address them.

Most of the time.

Women are often caught up in the problem itself.

Men think about the solutions.

Comparatively, dealing with a corpse seemed simpler.

John straightforwardly said.

"Do you want to handle the corpse yourself?"

"Mhm."

Gino nodded, then added.

"Your time is limited. Although saying it sounds awful, I truly mean it, John. If you have something urgent to do, like picking up a girl, drinking something strong, spending a night to remember in the Steel Hot Forest, then don't leave regrets, and don't waste time here."

[Side Mission: Aftermath]

[Reward: Black Box Plugin [Pending]]

The mission prompt flashed before John's eyes, but he dismissed it with a glance.

"Really?"

He flicked the cigarette butt far away.

"This is Sakura Cross Street. I can't guarantee I'll be able to pull you out from an ice water pool again."

"You don't need to get involved."

"Nor do you need to help me blow up a hovercar."

John exhaled the remaining smoke lingering in his mouth.

"Friends are meant to be bothersome."

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