Chapter 42: Mad Dog Johnny
The roadsides were lined with all sorts of electronic screens, 3D projected female celebrities posing provocatively and advertising various products.
Mason's car passed under a pale, projected thigh, and as he did so, he glanced up through the window.
It was smooth white skin beneath pure white lingerie. "Nice,"
he chuckled, whistling. The enormous projection, fifteen feet tall, seemed to notice Mason's movement, shyly pulling down her skirt and letting out a coquettish giggle.
The technology in this world was incredibly advanced. Mason, lacking proper identification, didn't dare openly appear in certain areas, but even brief glimpses of this world were enough to blow his mind.
The world was nominally controlled by various nations, but in reality, it was dominated by massive corporate conglomerates.
They manipulated politics, controlled the economy, and even launched expeditions to other star systems—their power far exceeded Mason's previous understanding of corporations.
Android technology, cybernetics, human augmentation, synthetic organs, biotechnology—all these cutting-edge technologies were controlled by these companies.
In this era, technology is the primary productive force—it's everything!
Donnie's gang is called the Gear Gang, a group of fanatical cybernetic modification enthusiasts. Every member transforms themselves into a half-human, half-machine hybrid.
Rumor has it that a company specializing in cybernetic modifications secretly backs the Gear Gang. Donnie's crew of runners has smuggled plenty of illegal cyberware for that company.
Regardless of the technology, only civilian modifications are allowed on the market, but the world is vast, and some people have special requirements. Those prohibited military or even experimental-grade modifications can't be obtained through legal channels.
Donnie is just a small-time leader in the Gear Gang. His base is an auto repair shop, and besides old-fashioned gas guzzlers like Mason's, newer hovercars and energy vehicles are all within his business scope.
When Mason arrived, it was already 2 PM. He went through the back entrance to Donnie's office.
"Hey, Mason, you're running late today." Standing at the door was a thin young man with a mohawk.
The guy's entire skull had been replaced with metal, and where his hair used to grow was now covered in sharp steel spikes, giving him a rather intimidating look.
"Something came up—I'll buy you drinks when I get paid." The young man was named George. Although he looked scary, he was actually a decent guy.
Perhaps it was Mason's generosity that had an effect, because George jerked his chin toward the room. "I'd advise you to wait a bit before going in. Mad Dog and Boss Donnie are arguing. Going in now might get you caught in the crossfire."
Mad Dog was Donnie's top enforcer, a modification fanatic who'd even exceeded safe augmentation limits.
For ordinary people, more mechanical parts in the body aren't necessarily better. Every cybernetic implant needs to interface with the nervous system, and this connection puts tremendous strain on the brain.
Neither legitimate modification clinics nor shady back-alley rippers would perform augmentations that exceed safe limits.
This not only risks fatal complications, but the more modifications a person undergoes, the more detached their emotions become, leading to increasingly unhinged and violent behavior.
Even for money, few people want to deal with a psycho.
And Mad Dog is exactly that kind of extreme case. His mind is constantly overstimulated, making him more irritable and aggressive.
"Thanks for the heads-up."
Mason appreciated George's warning and didn't go inside, intending to chat with George until Mad Dog left.
But then he heard a sound from inside. Donnie's voice came from the room, "Is that Mason? Come collect your pay, and bring those packages over here!"
Immediately afterward, a low growl echoed from inside. "Johnny, get out. We'll talk about this later!"
"Guess I'm collateral damage here."
Mason knew Donnie was using him as a buffer, but he had no choice. When he pushed open the door, Mad Dog Johnny was leaving with a dark expression.
This guy was massive, and his entire right arm down to his chest had been replaced with machinery. Additionally, his entire jaw had been replaced with metal. When he saw Mason enter, he snorted coldly, revealing half a set of metal teeth.
Seeing Mason, Donnie's expression softened slightly. Because he lacked proper ID, Mason could only accept cash payments, resulting in 20% lower income than normal, but Mason didn't seem to mind.
He picked up a paper bag from the desk, stuffed it into his pocket without counting, and
since he didn't need to eat, his expenses were much lower than others'. "Don't let that kind of screw-up happen again. A lot of people are watching our shipments—misunderstandings could cause real problems," Donnie's cybernetic eyes flashed red as he gave a stern warning.
He was fairly considerate toward Mason, and what he said made sense. Mason nodded without comment, checked the remaining deliveries, and then planned to head to the back warehouse to load up.
"Mason, won't you reconsider?" Donnie suddenly asked.
"For someone like you without an identity, joining a gang is your best option. If you really hate cybernetics, you can get modifications in some less critical areas."
"That's the rule—even I can't make exceptions," Donnie said earnestly.
Mason was sharp and reliable, unlike the other runners who were slippery as hell. Coupled with his lack of official status, survival in Border City would be tough. Donnie had tried multiple times to recruit Mason into the Gear Gang,
but each time Mason refused. The cybernetic modification process required a full medical scan, and Mason's chest was off-limits—he wouldn't allow anyone to examine his body.
"Sorry, Boss Donnie, I'm not ready yet," Mason shrugged.
"Alright," Donnie said helplessly. "If you change your mind, you can come to me anytime. I guarantee you'll get an important position after joining."
Mason smiled but didn't take it seriously. There's no such thing as unconditional generosity—he didn't think whatever job Donnie assigned would be anything special.
Leaving Donnie's office, Mason pulled out some bills and handed them to George. "Like I promised—this is for drinks!"
George accepted without hesitation, grinning.
Just then, a gravelly voice suddenly came from behind him. "Since you're so eager to give away money, how about offering what's in your pocket to this humble servant?"
Mason turned around and saw Mad Dog Johnny grinning with his metal jaw, staring at him viciously.
His eyes weren't even looking at the paper bag in Mason's hand, but were coldly fixed on his throat, as if planning to tear a bloody hole in it!