Chapter 253 - 148: Small Gifts

A mirthless chuckle echoed through the phone.Bone Shards felt better, otherwise he would have definitely reminded John not to question his integrity as a businessman.

John received a massive transfer, the zeros trailing the number could let him live carefree for a long time without taking on another job.

High returns often mean high risks.

A Lone Wolf was hired to take out the gang leader; theoretically, it shouldn’t involve him too much, but he still felt inexplicably endangered.

"Why take out Old Du by 6:30 PM?"

[You’ll find out soon enough, ah, I’m not being cryptic, the news channel will explain it well.]

Bone Shards laughed out loud, reminding John before hanging up.

[If anyone asks you about it, feel free to tell the truth, just make sure to live until the Bolago Club dinner.]

The call ended.

Meanwhile, John received a photo and immediately sent it to Maya.

Jilead sat by the hospital bed, guarding Gerry and Malt Sugar, with a clock visible on the electronic device.

Bone Shards kept his promise:

The Bolago Club had treated them, the high-class private doctor indeed had some skills; the situation was basically stable and they were expected to wake up in a few hours.

"Then you’ll be able to call."

"Whew~"

Maya let out a deep sigh, leaning back without saying a word.

Her face was pale, utterly exhausted, after a moment of silence, she curled up her knees and buried her face in them as if resting.

John leaned back in the car, with the scenery of the countryside rushing past outside—yellow loess hills, outlines of plants, shadows of gigantic structures, unknown signal towers, and pipelines arching out of the ground.

He was too tired to lift his arms.

The aftereffects of the drugs started affecting his body; his heart rate was higher than usual, his head felt heavy, he found it hard to focus, and his limbs were starting to ache, yet he still couldn’t sleep.

On the road shrouded in deep night, only the engine roared.

The trunk was completely open, components clattered, and sand and wind whistled through the gaps and bullet holes, making noise...

Simon said it felt like being back in the army.

He was the most excited among them.

Bullet holes dotted around the steering wheel, and there was no hope for radio or music, so they resorted to idle chat to pass the time.

John asked what it was like in the army.

Simon pinched his cap, scratching an itch with his fingers, and with a wry smile, said.

"The war is more brutal than imagined, the government is more incompetent than the news shows, and the cold-bloodedness of the politicians quenched the youth’s fervor."

The peaked cap was very worn out.

Simon didn’t delve into the military topic; through the rearview mirror, he noticed John’s gaze, then started bragging about his cap.

Pointing to the faded design on it, he said.

"This is an embroidered signature of Roberto Clemente [the legendary Black player of the Dodgers], and the cap on my head was a limited edition released on the 100th anniversary of his death..."

John shook his head with a smile and closed his eyes.

Simon didn’t need a response, engaging in self-desirings while gripping the steering wheel, reminiscing about the beer festival revolving around the cap, monster rally racing, tanned girls in hotpants, and various banned substances...

"Oh, sorry, buddy, you carry on sleeping."

"Huh?"

John opened his eyes with the vehicle jolting, his mind briefly clearing up, the lengthy monologue of Simon had only left a few vague echoing keywords.

He looked around.

The night was still deep, the road was bumpy, and the night’s temperature had made the metal shell of the armored car become moist and cold, with Eden City transforming into a distant backdrop on the horizon.

The black skyscrapers were embraced by neon and sesame-sized points of light.

Colorful but distant.

John withdrew his gaze, but sleep eluded him.

Maya still maintained her knee-hugging posture, as if a cleaning robot in the middle of recharging, occasionally rocking slightly with the rough jolts.

John’s mind inexplicably recalled something she had once said.

[Life is meant to be lived to the fullest.]

Simon, hands gripping the steering wheel, looked up seeing that John wasn’t sleeping.

"Thank you for coming to save me. Ah, of course, you mainly came to take out Old Du, but I can’t treat the life-saving bond as just a casual matter."

"You talk with a whiff of Nando."

"Haha, really? I’m glad. To be honest, I’d like to become a man like him, but I always make a mess of things, Macarena was killed by Old Du and that’s entirely my damn fault for being stupid, damn!"

Simon became a little dejected.

At this time, John was also curious, so he asked him.

"How the hell did you cross paths with the Rift Party?"

"I never provoked them, before Old Du sent people to surround us in the abandoned factory, I didn’t even know this group of lunatics were in cahoots with those motherf***ing Owl Town gang!"

At least they used to be.

John added in his mind.

Simon rested his elbow on the window frame, rambling about the camp situation.

After the Silver Port incident, Nando was taken to the core city controlled by the Wanderers of the Seven Nations for treatment. It was said that the surgery was highly complex, with irregularly damaged limbs requiring custom-made prosthetics, all while considering subsequent impacts and complications.

The good news is that the danger period has been passed.

The bad news is that the Damascus Camp is leaderless.

Oulos still lived up to her promises, securing the part of the Silver Port battle that belonged to the Wanderers and fulfilling her commitments in full—John actually knew that she needed to ensure the Wanderers gained benefits, balancing companies, gangs, and Internet Surveillance at the bargaining table of profit distribution.

"We lost a lot of people, and it’s just... hard to get over it."

Simon scratched his head, looking somewhat agitated.

"It feels like receiving compensation money, getting a sum of money you don’t know how to spend, but the guys you drank with, raced with, and partied with are never coming back."

With Nando gone, Damascus found out there wasn’t a second person capable of making decisions and commanding respect, so everyone just kept busy with their own tasks.

After the breakdown of order, the advantages of tradition and education became apparent.

The camp currently operates quite smoothly, even though development is paused, the remaining work is enough to keep everyone busy.

During the period when Damascus was frantically expanding its membership, Nando, to undertake construction projects in Eden City, established a shell company and secured a fairly lucrative construction site.

Simon was responsible for on-site management.

Following the end of the Silver Port incident, company dogs intended to suppress the development of the Wanderer Camp, especially Raqi Industry behind the Owl Town gang, using various means to seize the construction site and waste the efforts of over a hundred wanderers for more than half a month.

"The Eastern people are openly and covertly undermining us, making our business-running and on-site brothers suffer."

Raqi Industry instigated the Owl Town gang to cause trouble.

Theft by street racing gangs happened almost daily. With gang warfare gradually escalating, the opposing sides finally dropped their pretense, exposing dangerous goods; kidnapping and murder became flagrantly open.

John listened with a slight frown.

"Is the camp being targeted for retaliation?"

"There have been both kidnappings and assassinations. Our rented office was bombed with incendiaries, and the cargo drivers and site guards were killed by the Owl Town gang that night... Sangma Rebi Pool!"

The camp wasn’t exactly a pushover either.

Alonna dealt with the perpetrators before dawn the next day. She stuffed the corpses of the entire street racing gang into a container and set it on fire, while the vehicles and site assets were hauled back to Damascus.

Damascus truly didn’t lack manpower or combat prowess. In fact, after casualties streamlined the group, the remaining members received more weapons, equipment, implants, and modified vehicles.

"The situation in the city is very complex; having strong fists is useless. Even if you take a few punches, you can’t retaliate recklessly."

Simon didn’t elaborate much.

But John understood.

He vaguely knew that besides internal conflicts, gang warfare was more about corporate capital conflicts and transactions, with even the city council involved behind the scenes.

Internet Surveillance was making a fortune silently.

ECPD chose to goof off and watch the show.

Special task forces frequently responded to emergencies, only to face a public relations crisis.

...

Without a leader, Damascus Camp focuses primarily on maintaining stability, even if some economic sources are lost, they can only grit their teeth and endure.

This led to forces, including the Owl Town gang, beginning to openly and covertly encroach on the Wanderers’ space for survival in the city.

Simon isn’t as steady as Nando in handling things.

He ruthlessly pursued the behind-the-scenes culprits, killed an Owl Town gang group leader, causing a big stir. But unexpectedly, the explosive-laden car also had a Raqi Industry management member inside.

This, in turn, led to unforeseen troubles.

Simon was quickly identified, and then the Rift Party aggressively intercepted the gamble on his life, resulting in only him surviving, being held in an abandoned cave, waiting to be handed over to the Eastern people.

However, the Rift Party developed rapidly, directly breaking away from Raqi Industry, and the hostage transfer was shelved due to other issues.

Simon heard some news after being captured.

He survived the ordeal but fell into deeper confusion.

"Do you know the root cause of gang warfare?"

Simon stared blankly into the distance.

The lights of the Damascus Camp were visible in the distance. Taking advantage of this last leg of the journey, he explained to John.

The floating population in Eden City is excessive.

The gangs and companies both absorbed new blood, ready to reallocate interests and new territories. The part consumed in the process was referred to as "urban redundancy" in the mouths of the refined scoundrels riding hovercars.

This is a major trend.

Through managing the shell company, Simon already realized:

Project construction and new factories will become mainstream; capital is quickly gravitating towards this direction, and legislator competition will revolve around large municipal projects to garner votes...

They’ve already arranged where the labor force should go.

"But before these are implemented, the restless elements within the workforce must be pitted against each other, using panic and casualties to stimulate the public, making them crave stability, believing that working in a factory or desperately getting into a company is a better choice."

It was Maya speaking.

She woke up precisely before reaching the camp and smoothly joined the conversation as if she hadn’t been asleep at all.

The Wanderer Camp itself is also quite confused.

Because their job positions were further squeezed, how to continue surviving in Eden City has become a question—whether to seek new opportunities or initiate a migration to leave?

A spark of inspiration flashed across John’s mind.

"Have you considered doing business? Uh, I mean, if there’s no way to get into the construction sites, what about running a store..."

The farm owner over there had promised to give him another opportunity.