The curtains fluttered in the light breeze as warm morning sunlight spilled into the room. The light reflected off the furniture, sketching mottled shadows across the floor; the quiet room hummed with the vitality of the early dawn.
On the sofa, Xu Xiaoyou squinted, her eyes stinging from the brightness. She raised a hand to shield her face, grumbling a few complaints before rolling over.
A single gunshot from some unknown part of the city shattered the morning silence.
Xu Xiaoyou opened her eyes.
After getting out of bed, she sat quietly on the sofa, her heart still heavy with everything that had happened yesterday.
It had been a long time since she had slept so comfortably and with such peace of mind.
She didn't wake up from hunger or the cold, nor did she need to stay alert for the dangers that could strike at any moment.
The softness of the sofa beneath her had made even the sound of meat being chopped coming from next door in the middle of the night feel incredibly cozy.
With her blonde hair in a mess and her eyes still blurry with sleep, the girl picked up the handgun from the table. Ejecting the magazine, Xu Xiaoyou yawned as she began to thumb bullets into it, one by one.
Inside the city, the price of bullets was astronomical. Due to a lack of technology, only a handful of factions could produce them on a large scale, and a single bullet often sold for several hundred credit points.
A phone.
Roughly four thousand credit points.
A handgun with seven bullets.
Someone else’s ID card.
Starting today, she was going to use these things to start her business, aspiring to become a ruthless powerhouse of the region.
When the girl stepped out of the room and stretched in the hallway under the beautiful sunlight, the neighbor’s door happened to open at that exact moment.
The woman before her had enchanting eyes and a voluptuous figure. Her skin was covered in a thin layer of fine white body hair—the typical appearance of the veela.
The strap of the woman's dress had slipped off her shoulder, exposing a large expanse of pale skin. She cast flirtatious glances at Xu Xiaoyou, her red lips forming a pout.
However, Xu Xiaoyou had no interest in any of that. Her gaze was almost glued to the small green trash bag in the woman's hand.
She clearly saw something resembling a pig-man's arm poking out of the small bag...
...
The tram cut through the city’s veins, its wheels grinding against the tracks with a rhythmic roar. Standing by the window, one could look down at the metropolis where prosperity and ruin coexisted.
Grey exhaust fumes drifted over the city like ghosts.
Aircraft glided past skyscrapers, and fashionistas in skimpy clothing swayed their bodies on massive holographic billboards.
The tracks acted like a skyline encircling the city. As the tram moved forward, the play of light and shadow across the urban landscape changed, but the weary, spiritless faces of the people inside the car remained the same.
Xu Xiaoyou held onto the handrail, looking incredibly small among the various hetero-race passengers. Strangely, however, those passengers instinctively gave the girl a certain amount of space.
The carriage was filled with the pungent smell of smoke, and low-class passengers spat on the floor. In the cramped space, those passengers would rather squeeze against each other—making intimate contact with their neighbors with every jolt—than step even half a pace closer to the girl.
Xu Xiaoyou knew they were wary of the suit she was wearing.
It was a widely accepted fact in the city that anyone who could afford a suit was a ruthless character.
Just then, the girl’s phone screen lit up, and a notification popped up.
"You have a completed transaction. 2,000 credit points have been deposited into your network account."
The sweet, synthesized female voice served as a reminder to Xu Xiaoyou, and it also solidified the passengers' judgment of the girl.
This seemingly frail human was definitely not to be trifled with.
Noticing the message on her phone, her eyebrows arched slightly.
She obviously didn't intend to actually live in the pig-faced woman's apartment.
If investigators ever came to look into the incident involving the three Rank 1 fixers, staying there would be no different from walking into a trap.
Therefore, to get rid of that hot potato as quickly as possible, she had sold the place at an ultra-low price to some unlucky soul online.
This was just the down payment. After the other party inspected the room at noon, another final payment was supposed to be deposited into her account.
She knew exactly what kind of people lived in this city, so she never expected the other party to actually pay the balance. This amount was already within her psychological expectations.
As for what would happen to that unlucky soul if investigators actually showed up, that had nothing to do with her.
Xu Xiaoyou looked at the phone number on the screen, which was displayed as a string of garbled characters.
Given the city’s distorted level of technology and chaotic public security, she didn't need to worry too much about leaving tracks online, but out of caution, she had still taken preventative measures.
The tram continued its journey.
There had always been an interesting phenomenon on the tram.
Whenever the vehicle traveled from one faction's territory into another—especially when moving from a stable security zone into a more chaotic and lawless area—the passengers acted like NPCs who had just triggered an exclamation mark, always doing something bizarre.
"The tram is now entering Sector 6."
As the broadcast announcement rang out, a monkey-faced passenger suddenly let out a cry of surprise.
"Oh my, how could I be so careless?"
The passengers followed the sound to see a book of scriptures lying at the monkey-faced passenger's feet.
The monkey-faced passenger paused as he leaned down, making sure most people in the carriage were watching before he picked up the book. He scratched his head, looking embarrassed.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry for disturbing everyone. Look at how clumsy I am. My stop is coming up; I was planning to take these scriptures to the cathedral to see the Father."
Everyone in the city knew that Sector 6 was the territory of "the Church."
"Hey!"
Another cry of surprise.
This time it was a dog-faced man. What he dropped was a crucifix.
As he bent down, he inadvertently revealed the clerical robes beneath his coat.
"Sumimasen, sumimasen. Watashi is a missionary."
And then came more crucifixes, wrenches, hammers, machetes, and even a homemade air gun...
Most of the passengers 'happened' to drop something, either an item that proved their identity or various weapons.
After this, the scent of gunpowder that had built up in the carriage due to physical contact dissipated. The overall manners of the passengers seemed to improve instantly; everyone became very polite, even saying sorry if they accidentally bumped into someone.
"The tram is entering Sector 7."
The broadcast announcement sounded again.
A goat-man in the corner, who had been timid the whole time, finally plucked up his courage. He reached for a small knife in his pocket, but his hand slipped. In his panic, his wallet slid out of his pocket and fell to the floor with a thud.
Clatter—
The noisy carriage suddenly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The air froze into ice, leaving only a deathly silence.
The goat-man broke into a cold sweat. He squatted down tremulously. The moment he picked up the wallet, his entire hand was shaking. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, a homemade air gun was pressed against his forehead.
Next came machetes, hammers, wrenches, and even a crucifix...
Seeing the scene before him, the goat-man’s body shook. Countless large men surrounded him. The passengers who had been kind to one another just moments ago now had twisted expressions, grinning cruelly as they looked at him with murderous intent—as if looking at a lamb to the slaughter.
Rate on N.U.
