Chapter 120: Chapter 85: Chavez_2
"That’s complete nonsense. I have every detail of my life stored in my damn brain, and now I have to prove I’m John?"
"That’s the issue right there."
Oulos pursed her lips, not taken aback at all. "I can tell you’re not lying. So do you have any clues on identity recognition?"
John rubbed his weary face.
He mentioned Geoffrey, the Tiebang Logistics employee taken by Plato for experiments.
"There’s a guy named Bismarck, some kind of lab supervisor. Seems like he’s working on memory-related technology. Could there be a connection..."
"I’ll take a wild guess."
Oulos sat cross-legged in a yoga pose on the sofa. Compared to the distressed John, she seemed more like an unaffected bystander, maintaining a spectator’s stance throughout.
"You possibly acquired John’s complete memory, or something slightly crazier—someone might be intentionally altering the trajectory of your life."
"Matching my biological information!"
"I’ve already tried that, buddy."
Oulos’s investigation was more thorough than he’d imagined.
Kuang Xin found the medical records of Tiebang Logistics employees, specifically the hospital where John was fired after his last assignment.
The surveillance footage showed John.
The biological information he extracted matched successfully with the database’s Chavez.
"The third possibility I can think of is that you two are identical except for the face... do you get what I mean?"
"Cosmetic surgery, scan and see?"
"I tried it. Don’t you see it in the mirror every day? The database recognizes your current face as John’s. Isn’t that interesting?"
Oulos chuckled and continued.
"I’ve also investigated this employee list. All your colleagues from the same transport team went missing, probably got packaged and sold to Plato Laboratory like Geoffrey. Oh, by the way!"
She sent the accident video Kuang Xin had retrieved to John.
"According to the accident report on site, they only found you and didn’t find the guy named Chavez. I don’t know if this counts as good news. At least for now, from the standpoint of biological scan information... there’s only one John. If another pops up from some corner later, the story would get even more interesting."
"F*ck!"
John sat slumped on the sofa, panting heavily, with his revolver hanging from his hand. "Who the hell is messing up my life like this."
"I don’t know, John."
"Why are you so calm about it?"
"Should I be surprised at your life, dear? I’ve been through worse than you."
Oulos lazily leaned on the sofa, her shirt accentuating her impressive curves.
She pointed towards the nearby equipment terminal.
"Just look through it, and you’ll see how many secretive people are out there in the world. Everyone’s a protagonist in their own story. When you’re used to it, it’s just that..."
John didn’t feel much relieved.
Oulos had already scrutinized the list, and now he had no chance to confront an old colleague.
The trail seemed to stop again.
"Don’t be so down, dear. Generally speaking, if someone goes through the trouble to mess with you, there’ll be follow-ups. When someone comes around, just put a bullet through their head."
"I don’t have time."
John tapped his neck with the gun. "Internet Surveillance implanted something lethal in my brain, thinking I’m linked to the creepy stuff behind the walls."
"Is it okay to be so honest with me?"
"What worse can happen."
John seemed to let go. "West District Mercenaries are all happy working under the necktie clip, taking big gigs, killing ruthless people, becoming big shots. But this intermediary couldn’t last a day before you."
Oulos didn’t reply.
The whole job was almost entirely her dealing, and John got the upper hand, still needing to work to pay back later.
He felt it was time to leave.
Recalling the explosion at Dan Street Apartment added to his worries. The Black Gold Gang isn’t charitable, causing frequent trouble, cleaning up messes, and attracting Internet Surveillance near Bolago Club...
"I think Mr. Vito is in a tough spot too."
John shared his concerns.
Oulos thought it was a minor issue, helping him choose some memorabilia from the necktie clip’s mansion to give to Mr. Vito as a gift, or rather as compensation for the apartment damage.
[Item: Scotch Whisky [B-50Y]]
[Item: Italian Amaretto [Pure Liquor]]
John held a bottle in each hand.
Oulos noticed his confusion and asked back.
"If you had to pick a gift, what would you bring to the West District Speaker?"
"Uh, a gold watch, jewelry or something? They seem to love putting gold on prosthetic bodies."
John answered honestly.
Oulos smirked, casually opened a drawer, and took several gold-accented watches from the necktie clip’s watch cabinet.
"Take these as well, but don’t give them to Mr. Vito. Just give them to the lower-level leaders within the gang. Before you’re ready, pay attention to social interactions, and don’t betray your class easily."
"Are you lecturing me?"
"It’s life experience, John. Consider it a reward for your honesty. I need about two days to process the intelligence, so go back and adjust your condition well."
Oulos wandered around the mansion, casually flipping through things, and said to John, who was following her.
"Mail the kidney you cut out to this address, and I’ll take you to meet a client then."
She turned around and gently tapped John’s chest.
"Stay in touch, mercenary sir."
The Far Mountain Villa District was quiet and silent.
Neither the fully armed patrol soldiers nor the expensive all-day robots could fend off Oulos’s assault.
That was power from another level.
John got into the car.
He glanced back at the luxurious lobby, without envy, placed his hand on the window edge, and revved the engine.
[Eden City - Bolago Club]
John’s sports car had member certification and drove directly into the core area.
The building was brilliantly lit inside and out.
The bodyguards were all burly men, and as soon as they saw him from a distance, their prosthetic eyes started to flicker, and they gently raised their mechanical arms to block him.
The route John took led directly to the internal office.
"I’m looking for Mr. Vito."
"He has a client today. You’ll have to wait a bit."
The burly man’s tone was still polite.
John said nothing, retreated outside, and conducted a scan.
The implants of these two bodyguards were expensive, differing in style from Black Gold Gang’s typical core members.
[Faction: Jingke Heavy Industry Security Department]
"Uh-huh."
John figured out the identity of the client.
He returned to Silver Rider 577, listening to music while waiting. Half an hour later, he saw several suit-clad corporate lackeys driving away.
Mr. Vito appeared more serious than usual.
John might have been around Oulos too long and even learned a bit about reading people’s expressions.
This gang Speaker still wore custom shirts, paired with an expensive handmade vest, smoked golden apple cigars, and didn’t even inquire about the mess John had made in the apartment.
He simply smoked calmly and cursed that the internet surveillance was fooling around.
Like other mercenaries, John sat quietly. Listening to others’ troubles now seemed to make him feel a bit lighter.
At least he’s not the only one suffering from insomnia in this damn city.
Vito Russell noticed those two bottles of wine.
"Who picked these for you?"
He said these two bottles were auction items, collectibles stored only by top tycoons.
"F*ck, I thought there was a problem."
"There is, John. This stuff suits my taste, bringing it to my desk shows a deep understanding of my interests, even my drinking habits and expectations are well known."
Vito moved aside his cigar.
His eyes turned deep in the smoke and light.
"It’s a silent threat."
"What’s the purpose?"
"To raise your value, John. The girl who helped you pick the gift fears the Black Gold Gang might abandon you. Seems like she’s heard something, probably someone with extensive intelligence sources."
"I... heh, damn it."
John listened, dumbfounded, and let out a bitter laugh.
"How did you guess that?"
"Bluffing you, judging by your expression, it seems I guessed right."
Vito relaxed his posture and gave John a senior’s smile.
"Let me guess, is it the middleman who killed the tie clip? Oulos Grenada."
"The tie clip is dead? Hasn’t it only been a few hours?"
Mr. Vito sent him a photo.
The tie clip was lying naked in the old bridge hole in the West District, the same abandoned channel where he often sent little brothers to pick up goods.
His whole prosthetic body had been hollowed out, like the work of a Ghoul, but with even more brutal methods.
John finally couldn’t hold it in.
He really wasn’t having the worst day today.