My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 73 072: Street Star

[Club Borago-Tipsy Bikini]

John sat at the bar and feasted.

A synthetic meat version of the Supreme Slime Pizza, and a freshly baked version with double cheese.

With his cheeks bulging, he picked up the craft beer and pushed down the half-chewed crumbs of food and the gunk in his throat.

"Phew~ Amazing."

John made a cheerful voice and said to Gino again.

"In the end, I sent the baseball bat back to the Whistle Community. The tin foil said that I should keep the file and study it myself. Now, that's pretty much it."

John invites Gino out for dinner.

As the sponsor, she has the right to know part of the information. Even if she doesn't say it, it will be the same if she conveys it with tinfoil or a baseball bat.

Gino showed concern for the serum.

She was more curious about the identities of the other members of the Wanderer Alliance than the residual data and Pandora. Before this, only Tinfoil had had offline contact with Gino.

This store opposite Makao Boxing Gym is definitely a treasure store.

No wonder people in shopping malls like to go here.

The richly seasoned synthetic meat and various derivative dishes are like finding an oasis for the taste buds of Eden City citizens who are used to eating sour protein blocks and sticky instant meals.

John enjoyed his most satisfying meal of pizza since moving to the West End.

The small door next to the bar opens.

"You seem to like beer, try this."

The bartender came out with something.

She had blond hair tied up and was wearing a small black and white suit. She put a cup called Ma's Klukku on the table with a capacity of exactly one liter.

Two special pepper-grilled sausages are sizzling with oil.

"Don't be surprised, John. These things are new attempts and haven't appeared on the menu yet. I hope you can give me some serious suggestions."

The blonde smiled and winked.

She said this special beer is an improved version of Wiesenbier, which is gentler than the stimulant version and will not put pressure on the original organ.

John hesitated to speak.

Although he often came to this drunken bikini bar to eat, he still couldn't pronounce her name accurately.

He silently started scanning.

[Name: Angelica]

[Force: Black Gold Gang]

[File: American, tipsy bikini bar owner. 】

"Have you not adapted to the life of a street star? John, maybe you are more accustomed to my state..."

Angelica puffed out her chest and tugged at the edge of her suit.

She took off all the shirts that smelled like perfume, and then kicked off her black silver-edged trousers.

Revealing a beach swimsuit-like look.

The skin is a standard wheat color, with low technological content, but the lines are very smooth. It is definitely a figure built according to traditional training. There are lipstick and champagne glass tattoos on the waist and arms respectively.

Gino lived in the boxing gym across the street.

She knew Angelica, and there were no taboos between the girls. After a few words, she began to envy the other's exercised waistcoat line, and would still boldly touch her hands to feel the touch of her skin.

John suddenly realized it.

Macao and he often sat at the counter, and every time it was Angelica who came to deliver the food.

He didn't expect that the other party was the boss.

【Shop - Tipsy Bikini】

The waiters are all hot and enthusiastic beauties, so it should be the most popular bar with the largest area in the mall.

Angelica leaned on the edge of the bar, propped up her chin, leaned forward, and winked at John.

"Did it jog the memory?"

"Sorry, I didn't expect this to be your place."

John raised his glass in greeting.

The night she killed Hoffman, Angelica had asked him on a date, but she forgot about it due to her injury and bad mood.

"Can a bar owner inspire the desire to conquer?"

"Don't be like that, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Still so cute, John, just kidding. The waiter and bartender are both hobbies. I will recommend some special drinks to you. Do you want one?"

"How exciting and hallucinogenic is it?"

John asked rhetorically.

Angelica's eyes moved upwards, and their long legs crossed together. "You will be a little tipsy, which will slow down your reaction speed, but you will become particularly resistant to beatings."

"Then let's do it next time."

After hearing this, John smiled and refused and paid for the meal.

Angelica asked. "Do you have plans tonight?"

John nodded.

He has been in a bad mood recently. After his life has stabilized, he feels depressed and depressed for no reason - he is suspected of being involved in a strange conspiracy, but he has no focus on investigating the company and can only passively wait for one piece of information after another.

John asked Macao to book a black and gold gang boxing match.

He seeks excitement and relieves stress.

[Series Mission Arena: Street Rising Star]

[Reward: bonus, melee weapon [random]]

The venue is set underground at Club Borago.

Located at the intersection of VIP area and peripheral shopping malls.

If the place where celebrities participated in gambling was called the ancient Roman Colosseum, this would be an alternative octagonal cage, a place where despicability and bloodshed were focused.

It's in a concrete basement.

Living people were locked inside electrified barbed wire and engaged in life-and-death struggles.

【Passed machine inspection. (unacommpolished)】

Turn off the monomolecular wire and the mantis knife, and the metal ratio of the hand modification should be lower than the standard for external weapons. Things such as embedded finger tigers and high-voltage contacts must be cancelled.

John walked past the scanner,
He was wearing a black T-shirt and stared at the ceiling.

There were many people in the dim passage, standing or sitting, each with taut muscles and fierce eyes.

John walked to the end of the passage.

Two muscular men stopped him.

"It's not game time yet. Go back and wait. If you're restless, go find a corner and shoot first."

"Don't get into trouble, man, this is a complicated situation."

John ignored the warning and didn't answer, just standing behind the smoothed white paint line and looking into the distance.

There was smoke rising from the iron cage.

The surrounding area reeked of tar, blood, sweat, fermentation, and some industrial mix of glue.

There were agents arguing on the sidelines.

He carried his boxer back who had been beaten beyond recognition, which was considered an act of kindness. Although he failed to pursue his dream, he still saved a small life.

Some boxers are even worse off and have no support team.

The madman had fallen into the abyss. He tried to bottom out but fell to pieces. He was casually wrapped up by the body collection team and walked through the corridor.

The stretcher was covered in blood.

The corpses contained the saliva and bills of gamblers.

This is the debut stage arranged by the Black Gold Gang for John:

Only by accumulating enough points and knocking down enough boxers can you show your prominence on the streets and qualify to participate in invitational tournaments with big prizes.

Macao blatantly came over with a reagent.

He asked John if he wanted an injection.

The rules of the black boxing event are looser than expected. After all, even the gold frame and the destruction arm can be loaded.

John suspected:
The purpose of banning equipment is just to extend the game time, increase the enjoyment of the game, and at the same time keep the gamblers' emotions at bay.

Rookie competitions are held every month.

The proportion of bets is not that exaggerated. It is said that the proportion of famous boxers will be relatively high. After all, the results are relatively transparent and lack suspense, and it is easy for upsets and fake matches to occur.

"I suddenly felt that it was not interesting."

John shrugged his shoulders and complained casually.

Macao laughed a few times, feeling that he understood. "You think the potential rules and restrictions are too troublesome, right? It's like a life-threatening performance, with a sense of helplessness like a trapped animal in a cage..."

"Yeah, I might as well just find someone on the street, throw each other a sum of money or a few guns, or unopened trophies, or even the right to date a certain girl, and then the two of us fist-fight next to a burning oil drum. Fight until one side admits defeat.”

John patted him on the shoulder. "This is called freedom."

Macao sighed. "If you really feel bored, why don't you place a bet? Give yourself some extra motivation to box."

John didn't object and transferred a sum of money.

As he passed the passage, the muscular man whose shirt was stretched out of shape spoke condescendingly to him.

"It's boring, haha. Regardless of whether you are timid or not, you'd better keep your attitude straight, otherwise the arena will eat you up."

"It's better to fall to the ground and admit defeat than touch the power grid, otherwise you will scream louder than a sex doll."

Their arms were intertwined, and their skin was wrinkled like sandpaper that had been ravaged to the extreme. The blood vessels were distinct and stretched, like a three-dimensional spider web worn on the body.

Eden City likes imposing security guards.

John ignored the two of them.

He walked through the gap that flickered with electric arcs.

The interior space is larger than expected, with several doors around it and a similar waiting area behind each passage.

John signed up to compete just for the thrill of violence.

At the end of this kind of competition, in addition to honors and bonuses, there are also high-level events to compete for special prosthetics. If you want to get tickets, you must score enough points in today's arena.

[Defeat the opponent 0/3 (not achieved)]

The gamblers sat on the steps going up from the bottom, shouting for votes, wanting to take out their guns. Amidst the roar that drowned the iron cage, a Black Gold Gang boxer trotted out from the opposite side.

"John?"

"Sorry man, I can't say your name."

"It doesn't matter, you killed that son of a bitch Hoffman, I want to see how bad you are."

He was eager to try, raising his arms and beckoning.

John adjusted his concentration and did not attack rashly. After all, this was his first time fighting someone head-on.

call!
The opponent's fist carries the wind.

John leaned back almost subconsciously. Before he could see clearly, he felt a shadow flashing past his eyes.

speedy.

Intuition told him...

If the nose is really rubbed, at least it will be broken.

"Fake."

John put away his distracting thoughts and focused on the game in front of him.

Even if he doesn't like cage fighting, he still has to respect it. After all, every guy who walks into the grid is risking his life in the fight.

John calmed down and exchanged a few punches.

He tried to take the initiative.

The alloy frame cooperates with military fighting skills to continuously advance, but it is always blocked by the gangster's fist.

Bang bang, bang bang bang.

The blow felt heavy, like hitting a piece of metal wrapped in hardened rubber.

John knew the weight of his attack.

The skin surface of the gang fighter began to become red, swollen and bloody, but his eyes were very calm, as if he were normal.

He suddenly flew forward with a kick.

John retreated to dodge, but in the next second, the opponent flipped half a circle in the air, and his powerful hind legs flew towards his head.

boom!
John raised his arms urgently.

He felt like he had been hit by a car, and there was severe pain in his arm, but it only blocked his calf. Part of the opponent's instep hit his head, and he was even temporarily blinded.

"OH~"

"That's it, damn it, fuck him!"

"Kill him, Fake Squid!"

"Capoeira! Capoeira!"

……

The gamblers burst into cheers.

The chip of the gang fighter was flashing. The flying kicks of the Brazilian war dance just now were extremely lethal. The modified operating system and the metal frame could kick broken cement bricks.

He stepped forward to finish the attack based on past experience.

John covered his head and backed away repeatedly, his mind a little unclear. Fortunately, Messiah's prosthetic eyes were very powerful, and his vision was quickly restored, and he saw the other party approaching him for the first time.

He lowered his body and kicked forward.

The boxer's calf was struck and his body lost balance and fell.

John immediately hugged the opponent's arm and rolled back, creating a fatal joint lock.

The cheers and curses from the audience got louder!

"Ahhh-"

"Kill him, bitch!"

"Twist this beast's arm off!"

……

John felt like he was holding a bomb.

He adjusted his weight, changed position, and turned the fighter's entire arm from the elbow.

Crunch, bang.

The sound of metal bending is particularly clear.

The artificial leather became charred black, the movement inside collapsed, and parts protruded from the gap.

The boxer reluctantly abstained.

"Hoo, hoo~"

John pulled away with relief, then stretched out his hand to pull the other person up.

The Black Gold Gang guy was a little frustrated, but he still thanked him - if John didn't change the focus, he could tear off the entire hand, or simply break his own neck.

"Well deserved, brother."

He used his good arm to exchange greetings with John. "Don't take it lightly. There are everyone in the qualifiers. There are a lot of boxers from other gangs and street kids who are desperate for their lives."

"it is good."

John waved his hand, signaling the referee to continue.

Another muscular man walked into the iron cage, his eyes were fierce, and he ran straight towards him.

John dodged continuously and used his agility to test.

He was completely serious now, his heartbeat accelerated slightly, and he felt like fighting for his life against Hoffman.

The muscle man's subcutaneous armor and fiber bundles are full.

There was no reaction to John's fists, and it was difficult to find a chance to use his grappling skills again.

He could only remain patient and continue walking.

This stalemate is simpler than playing Eden's data body: observe with all your heart, look for breakthroughs, and slowly accumulate advantages.

John struggled with him for more than ten minutes.

My physical strength is somewhat exhausted, and I have reached a certain threshold.

His chip is very advanced, his technical movements are more comprehensive, and he can control the distance after slowly adapting to it - not only the dodge distance, but also the timing of avoiding counterattacks.

Muscle Man's reaction speed is very fast, and he must have a neurosynaptic-related implant. To the user, it is as if the surrounding speed is slowed down several times, and he can predict and make actions.

But this slowdown is relative.

He just increased his reaction time, taking the same amount of time to move his body as John did.

Unless other prosthetic bodies are installed, the body can withstand higher-intensity muscle movements, achieving a "stop of time" in a sense, and one-way output to the enemy.

It is a complete set, not one or two separate prosthetics.

John noticed that there were a lot of bloodshot eyes in the muscle man's eyes.

The synaptic implant carries a huge load, and coupled with so many high-strength prostheses, the burden on physical strength and heart cannot be underestimated.

Sure enough, it took a few more minutes.

The strong man's eyes suddenly became blurry and he staggered.

John rushed in and used a set of fighting moves on his face, including several elbow strikes and knee kicks, and he was forcefully knocked down by the sandbag.

He rubbed his shoulders and took a few breaths.

The muscle guy was immediately dragged away by the organizer.

A third person walked up from the cage.

He was not that strong, so he secretly stuffed some money in, hoping to take advantage of John's weak period of continuous fighting to steal a winning point.

John turned and stared at him.

Eyes like wolves.

(End of this chapter)