Kyrie Bowen’s workshop was located in the abandoned factory district on the edge of Blackrock Town.

  It was far from Kunlun Corp’s surveillance network, surrounded by piles of rusting mechanical wreckage and discarded shipping containers.

  When Kane and Crag pushed open the iron door of the workshop, the harsh screech of metal friction echoed through the empty plant.

  Kyrie was hunched over a workbench, blowtorch in hand, sparks flying everywhere.

  He didn't look up.

  "Put the stuff on the table and get the hell out of my way while you wait."

  Kane said nothing. He tossed the backpack filled with loot onto the metal table next to the workbench.

  Karl’s exoskeleton parts, a standard-issue rifle, tactical armor, and that Kunlun Corp metal box.

  Kyrie set down the blowtorch and turned around.

  When his eyes landed on Kane’s legs, he froze.

  "What the fuck did you do to [ The Predator ]?"

  Kyrie’s voice jumped an octave.

  He rushed over, grabbed Kane’s right leg, and roughly tore open the pant leg.

  Dark red vascular patterns crawled densely across the calf. Some areas were charred black, looking like tracks seared by extreme heat.

  The bio-electric arcs on the surface of [ The Predator ] were completely extinguished. Pale yellow hydraulic oil leaked from the metal interfaces.

  Kyrie’s expression shifted.

  "Neural load-bearing failure?"

  He looked up, staring at Kane.

  "What the fuck did you use it for? How many times did you trigger it consecutively?"

  Kane said flatly, "I lost count."

  "Lost count?"

  Kyrie was practically screaming now.

  "Do you have any idea that the neural interface on this thing has a maximum threshold? Exceeding that limit will fry your spinal nerves instantly!"

  He pointed at the charred marks on Kane’s leg.

  "See these? These are signs of necrotic neurons!"

  Kyrie took a deep breath, forcing down his rage.

  "The fact that you can still stand is pure luck."

  He turned and walked to the workbench, rummaging through a drawer to pull out a syringe.

  The syringe contained a milky-white liquid that shimmered slightly under the lights.

  "Neural Suppressor. It goes for thirty thousand a pop on the black market."

  Kyrie tossed the syringe to Kane.

  "Stab it into the base of your thigh. It’ll temporarily repair some of the nerve damage."

  Kane caught the syringe. Without hesitation, he plunged it into his thigh.

  The cold liquid was injected into his body, followed by a wave of bone-piercing pain.

  The veins on Kane's temples throbbed, but he didn't make a sound.

  Kyrie watched coldly.

  "Hurts, doesn't it?"

  He paused.

  "This is only a temporary fix. If you use your legs like that again, it won’t be as simple as 'pain' next time."

  Kyrie walked to the workbench and picked up the control module for [ The Predator ].

  "A third of the neural interface is fried. The hydraulic system is overloaded. The energy circuits are shorted."

  He looked up at Kane.

  "Repairing it will take at least a week."

  Kane frowned. "Can you make it faster?"

  "Faster?"

  Kyrie sneered.

  "You think this is a roadside shoe repair stall?"

  He slammed the control module onto the table.

  "The neural interface needs recalibrating. The hydraulic system needs replacement parts. The energy circuits have to be tested one by one."

  Kyrie paused.

  "And, I’m going to install an overdrive protection device for you."

  Kane narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "Meaning that if you try to play with your life like that again, [ The Predator ] will automatically lock down and force a cooling mode."

  Kyrie stared at Kane.

  "I don't care what you do out there, but I don't build things just for you to use them for suicide."

  Kane remained silent for a few seconds.

  "How much?"

  "Fifty thousand."

  Kyrie quoted the price.

  "That covers the repairs, the parts, and that Neural Suppressor."

  Kane nodded. "Fine."

  He reached into his jacket and pulled out the Kunlun Corp metal box.

  "Can you open this?"

  Kyrie took the box and examined it closely.

  The Kunlun Corp logo was engraved on the surface, and a ring of red indicator lights lined the edges.

  "Dual-factor authentication plus a self-destruct mechanism."

  Kyrie let out a low whistle.

  "A Kunlun Corp security box. Whatever’s inside definitely isn't simple."

  He looked up at Kane.

  "Where did you get this?"

  Kane didn't answer.

  Kyrie didn't care.

  "Opening it requires cracking the fingerprint and iris scans while bypassing the self-destruct trigger at the same time."

  He paused.

  "If it goes smoothly, three days."

  "If it doesn't, the contents will be scorched to ash by high temperatures."

  Kane nodded. "Understood."

  He hesitated for a moment.

  "One more thing."

  Kyrie looked up at him.

  Kane said flatly, "Under Andrew Zoe’s command, there are two other aces besides Karl."

  "I want information on them."

  Kyrie froze for a second, then burst into a wild laugh.

  "Hahaha! Kid, killing Karl wasn't enough? You want to keep going?"

  He waved a hand dismissively.

  "Don't ask me about these trivial matters. I only fix things."

  Kyrie paused.

  "However, if you really want to know, go find Booker."

  Kane frowned. "Booker?"

  "The 'Know-It-All' of Blackrock."

  Kyrie lit a cigarette.

  "The guy is a freelance info broker. He’s not part of Felix's crew. From Kunlun Corp's internal intel to black market transaction logs—as long as you pay, he can tell you anything."

  Kane narrowed his eyes. "Where can I find him?"

  "Under Ribcage Bridge. There’s an abandoned subway station."

  Kyrie exhaled a cloud of smoke.

  "Booker lives there."

  He paused.

  "But the guy is cautious. He doesn't see people he doesn't know."

  Kyrie rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a metal badge, tossing it to Kane.

  The badge was engraved with a design of a crossed gear and wrench.

  "Take this. He’ll know I sent you."

  Kane caught the badge and nodded. "How much?"

  "Free."

  Kyrie waved him off.

  "Consider it a gift for our first meeting."

  He paused.

  "By the way, Booker is greedy. You’d better bring plenty of money."

  Kane pocketed the badge and turned to leave.

  Crag followed behind him.

  Kyrie watched their retreating figures, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  "Interesting kid."

  He looked down at [ The Predator ] on the workbench.

  "Hope you live a little longer."

  Kane and Crag left the workshop and headed toward Ribcage Bridge.

  As night fell, the neon lights of Blackrock Town began to flicker.

  The streets were crowded with people—scavengers, mercenaries, and cyborgs all mixed together.

  Kane pulled his hood low, avoiding Kunlun Corp patrol squads.

  Crag walked beside him, his massive frame drawing many eyes.

  But no one dared to approach.

  The two crossed several alleys and arrived beneath Ribcage Bridge.

  This was one of the most chaotic sectors of Blackrock Town.

  The area under the bridge was piled high with trash and discarded shipping containers. The air was thick with the stench of rot and machine oil.

  Kane found the entrance to the abandoned subway station.

  The entrance was blocked by a rusted iron door with a tattered sign hanging on it.

  On the sign, written in red paint, were the words: "KEEP OUT."

  Kane pushed the iron door open.

  Behind the door was a pitch-black staircase leading underground.

  Crag frowned. "Kid, this place feels wrong."

  Kane nodded. "I know."

  He paused.

  The two descended the stairs.

  The staircase was long, at least three stories deep.

  The walls were covered in graffiti and bullet holes. Stagnant water pooled on the floor.

  Finally, they reached the subway platform.

  The platform was empty, save for a few dim lightbulbs flickering overhead.

  Kane scanned the surroundings.

  At the end of the platform stood a heavy iron door, slightly ajar. A faint light leaked through the gap.

  Kane walked over and knocked.

  "Who is it?"

  A shrill, thin voice drifted from inside.

  Kane held up the badge Kyrie had given him.

  "Kyrie sent me."

  Silence followed for a few seconds. Then, the iron door slowly groaned open.

  A small, scrawny man stood behind it. He was less than 1.6 meters tall, wearing a greasy jacket over a mess of unkempt hair.

  His eyes were his most striking feature. His left was a mechanical prosthetic, flickering with a cold red light. His right was human, but the gaze was exceptionally sharp.

  "A friend of Kyrie’s?"

  The man studied Kane.

  "I’m Booker."

  Kane nodded. "I need intel."

  A smile tugged at the corner of Booker’s mouth.

  "Of course. That’s my specialty."

  He stepped aside to let them in.

  "Come in and talk."

  Kane and Crag entered the room. It wasn’t large, but it was crammed with equipment: holographic projectors, encrypted communicators, monitoring screens, and several vintage computers. The walls were plastered with a dense mosaic of photos and documents.

  Booker closed the door and turned back to Kane.

  "So, what do you want to know?"

  Kane said flatly, "Under Andrew Zoe’s command, there are two other aces besides Karl. I want information on them."

  Booker froze. Then, a peculiar expression crept across his face.

  "So you’re the 'Ghost' who killed Karl?"

  Kane didn't answer, but he silently acknowledged Booker’s prowess as an info broker. He had only just killed Karl, yet this man already knew. The "Know-It-All" moniker was no exaggeration.

  Booker stared at him for a few seconds before suddenly laughing.

  "Interesting."

  He walked to a computer and tapped the keys. Two photos appeared on the screen.

  The first was of a tall woman in a black, skin-tight combat suit. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a jagged scar ran across her face.

  "That's [ 'Viper' Ivy ]."

  Booker pointed at the screen.

  "One of Andrew’s three aces. She specializes in assassination and infiltration."

  He paused.

  "Her cybernetics are neural-reflex enhanced. Her reaction speed is five times that of a normal human. Plus, she has implanted toxin glands; she can release neurotoxins from her fingertips."

  Booker switched to the second photo. It showed a bald, hulking man over two meters tall, his body a mass of knotted muscle.

  "This is [ 'Hammer' Greg ]."

  Booker continued the briefing.

  "The leader of the three aces and the strongest in terms of raw combat power. His cybernetics are full-body skeletal reinforcements. His bone density is ten times that of a human, and his strength is staggering."

  Booker paused.

  "Rumor has it he can rip open light armored vehicles with his bare hands."

  Kane stared at the two photos on the screen.

  "Where are they now?"

  Booker’s smile widened.

  "That question isn't cheap."

  Kane pulled a stack of Kunlun credits from his coat.

  "How much?"

  Booker’s eyes lit up.

  "Ten thousand."

  Kane tossed the money onto the table. Booker counted it, nodding with satisfaction.

  "['Viper'] Ivy is currently out on a mission. Her specific location is unknown."

  He paused.

  "But ['Hammer'] Greg? I know where he is."

  Kane narrowed his eyes. "Speak."

  Booker tapped the keys again, bringing up a map with a single red dot marked on it.

  "The Silicon Desert. An abandoned military base."

  Booker pointed at the dot.

  "Greg has been stationed there lately."

  He paused.

  "I don't know what he's doing there. But for Greg to stay in one spot for two months? It’s definitely not something simple."

  Kane stared at the red dot.

  The Silicon Desert. It was one of the most dangerous zones on the outskirts of Blackrock Town, crawling with radiation and mutated creatures. But for a scavenger, it was also paradise.

  Kane pocketed the map and turned to leave. Crag followed close behind.

  Booker watched their retreating backs, a sly grin forming on his face.

  "I wonder how much I can sell this piece of intel for..."

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