"F*ck, didn’t the company mess with Serum?" "They were too busy paying hush money. Without that cage, the Eden City branch would have faced a catastrophic disaster." Serum had a rich record of accomplishments but wasn’t interested in fame and fortune, only dedicated to research on cyber psychosis. She noticed that such patients often had symptoms like disorganized thoughts and intermittent memory loss, so she followed this line of thinking, trying to develop a memory editing technology. This concept had been discussed with the Wanderer Alliance. Members, including Tinfoil and Gino, believed the technical difficulty and the amount of data were too immense, making it impossible to achieve. But according to the Baseball Bat’s investigation... It seemed Serum had indeed succeeded. She developed a special consumable implant to help cyber psychosis patients organize their memories, allowing the hardware to relieve the brain’s pressure, ultimately bringing the out-of-control individuals back to sanity. Tinfoil was a bit surprised. "This technology will change the world; is there any specific research intelligence?" "Didn’t you think of something?" The Baseball Bat snapped his fingers. "After Serum disappeared, there were reports saying she left a Pandora’s box in cyberspace, which likely contains the complete memory editing technology." John reached out to stroke the data slot at his neck. He felt inexplicably uncomfortable, opened his palm under the light strip, and found his head was drenched in sweat. "Are you alright, John?" Tinfoil noticed he looked a bit odd. "F*ck, do you remember our last meeting with Bismarck?" John had only talked about it with Eden. "The defecting employee from Plato, who used to drive with me at Tiebang Logistics, mentioned something about memory confusion before he died. Is it related?" The Baseball Bat’s investigation results were not yet complete. Both Plato and Gaia Cells had reached out to Serum, trying to collaborate on research. It seems Bismarck managed to make contact with Serum, though the details remain unclear. The emails were hastily deleted. This information was barely recovered. The Baseball Bat uploaded his findings to the Wanderer Alliance and then attempted to message the last account that communicated with Serum. Plato Company’s soldiers broke in, capturing him and all the on-site documents. "That bastard called Bismarck, right? He forced me to reveal the data residue from the terminal, asking how much I knew or if I had contacted Serum." The Baseball Bat shivered. "I said I just got here, intended only to steal some valuable parts to sell on the black market, and hadn’t touched anything." "You’re quite clever." Tinfoil chuckled twice. "He probably thought you were worthless and got frustrated, wanting to silence you. So, is the stuff really gone?" "How could it be! I completely wiped the terminal, putting all the file information into the Wanderer Alliance’s cyberspace. You can decipher my distress signal into a data key to open the safe." Tinfoil chatted casually with the Baseball Bat for a few more moments. She checked the public network, using a Harbor intermediary to monitor Plato’s activities. The hovercar circled twice before completely giving up. Bismarck probably acted secretly as losing two combat groups was already humiliating. Expanding the impact would require a reasonable explanation to the company. This matter would end there; once Serum’s documents successfully auctioned on the black market, no one would waste time on someone small like the Baseball Bat. [Escort the Baseball Bat home. (Not accomplished)] The auction money would later be directly transferred to John. He naturally had to handle the final task. The Baseball Bat looked at the Alloy RCH with drooling excitement, high-spirited on the way back to the Whistle Community, even wanting to secretly connect a data cable to experience the Eisenberg vehicle system up close. "Do you know what happened to those corporate dogs?" John’s tone was calm. "I blew their heads off, leaving no survivors." "Alright, buddy, I get it, I get it..." The rest of the journey for the Baseball Bat was completely silent. [Eden City - Whistle Community (South District)] This place was close to Oil Barrel Street, on the bustling edge, the densest area of Eden City’s factory clusters. Any newly reported illegal immigrant or fresh blood trying to start from scratch on the streets gathered here. The housing in Whistle Community was very dense. They mainly consisted of Latin American or East African immigrants, with self-governing small gangs, similar to a group of Wanderers living in the city. Only more vulnerable and isolated. John’s motorcycle caught the attention of some local residents. For more chapters visıt 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✶𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲✶𝗻𝗲𝘁 He could sense the hostility towards outsiders, so he kept the Baseball Bat at a safe distance from everyone. John sat upright, like a motorcyclist waiting at a red light. "Can I ask a question? You have several advanced hacker prosthetic bodies, all outrageously expensive. Network deep dive requires an ice pool, a life monitoring system, or at least a deep diving suit. Where did the money come from?" "There are many ways to make money, network maintenance, hacking through firewalls, even ghostwriting assignments for idiots in public schools." The Baseball Bat spoke lightly. John thought it was impressive; he hadn’t previously paid attention to settlements like the Whistle Community or how these kids learned cyber skills. According to the Baseball Bat’s introduction: Among the immigrants, there were many impressive figures, even fugitives from other cities and countries. Once they came together, they learned and collaborated, gradually spreading a lot of kickass practical technology.