Chapter 97: Have You Seen Me Before?
Slap!
Lost in thought, Mason wasn't paying attention when someone suddenly clapped his shoulder as soon as he stepped outside. His muscles twitched reflexively, and he almost retaliated with his bladed gauntlets.
But upon seeing the person's face, he quickly relaxed and stopped.
"Haha! Surprised?"
"You've really hit the jackpot, kid!" George casually draped his arm around Mason's shoulder. "When Boss Donnie told me you were taking over Johnny's territory, I was so shocked I nearly fell over. In just a few months, you've gone from an ordinary runner to number two in the entire district!"
"Poor Johnny—he finally built his operation and died before he could even enjoy it. What a pathetic end."
"You're buying dinner tonight!"
George didn't keep his voice down, and many of the runners around heard him, staring at Mason with astonished expressions.
"Really? Mad Dog Johnny is actually dead?"
"This Mason has only been here for a few months? I remember he was just promoted to crew leader near Chiba Street last month—it hasn't even been a full month, right?"
"I'm telling you, there's got to be more to this story!"
The runners around them were talking amongst themselves, but everyone knew Mason's capabilities and deliberately kept their voices low—no one dared to provoke him.
"If I'm leaving, who's going to manage the Chiba Street area?" Mason asked casually.
George puffed out his chest and coughed a few times. "Haha, thanks to you, Boss Donnie gave me management of that territory."
"What about your original position?" As Donnie's lieutenant, George's duties, though not particularly demanding, were still essential. But now that George had suddenly been reassigned, the implications were worth considering.
Mason had a feeling that Donnie was planning something.
"Anyway, there aren't many things I need to handle personally anymore."
"New leadership needs to establish authority—do you want me to take you to the temporary base Johnny secured?" George asked. "Those runners under Johnny are a rough crowd, probably not easy to control."
Mason grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth. "No need—I can handle it myself. I'd actually prefer them to be difficult!"
Blackwater Street.
In reality, although Johnny had taken over new territory, it hadn't attracted much attention from Donnie.
Because of its poverty.
The area Johnny had seized was the worst in the entire Lower City District, with the most dire economic conditions. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it the slums of the Lower City.
Dark tunnels, damp sewers, and scavengers living in abandoned underground passages and derelict facilities—it was a place even Lower City residents didn't want to visit.
But it had become a haven for the Blood Source Society and many bio-modified individuals.
These Blood Source Society bio-modifiers had transformed themselves into grotesque creatures. Their exaggerated appearances made it difficult for them to walk in public. When venturing out, they typically wore large black robes and hoods.
Over time, this attire had become standard for bio-modified individuals. Among all modification types, mechanical augmentation was the most common, while biological modification was the cheapest.
Furthermore, due to its irreversibility and the extreme mutation of body parts, biological modification was difficult for most people to accept.
After all, an unsightly mechanical arm could be replaced with a prosthetic covered in synthetic skin, but mutated organic tissue couldn't be removed and rebuilt.
Mason walked along Blackwater Street. There were few pedestrians, but he could see many figures wearing black robes and hoods, hurrying past. Each time they passed Mason, they cast wary glances at him.
Even though their faces were hidden in the shadows of their hoods, Mason could still vaguely make out their strange, distorted features.
"Why would anyone bother occupying a place like this?"
Mason found it puzzling. Just across the street, the opposite side was bustling with activity. He wasn't in a hurry, strolling leisurely until he finally stopped in front of a seven- or eight-story building.
This was the first time Mason had seen a structure this tall in this world. A thick, high wall stood beside the building. When Mason walked in, no one questioned him, and he simply strode into the so-called base.
In the lobby on the first floor, several figures lay sprawled about. A pile of empty bottles sat in the corner, and the air reeked of vomit and bodily fluids.
Mason sneered. These kinds of people thought they could control an entire district? If there wasn't something suspicious going on here, he'd eat his gauntlets.
"Get up, all of you!"
Mason roared. With his current physical strength and lung capacity, his shout was like thunder. One man reclining on the sofa even jolted awake, wetting half his pants.
The others groggily opened their eyes.
"Who the hell are you?"
Mason found a relatively clean spot to sit. "Johnny's dead. From now on, I'm in charge here. Who's the leader? Brief me about this place."
The group looked at each other, taking a while to process what Mason meant. "Where did this maniac come from? Daring to disrespect our boss—I'll fucking..."
Before the man could finish, Mason shot out like a phantom and kicked him in the chest. With a sickening crack, the man didn't even have time to scream before being launched seven or eight meters away, his head lolling to the side as he passed out.
"I don't want to repeat myself."
Just then, a burly man wrapped in tattered rags walked in through the entrance. He looked like he'd just crawled out of a dumpster, his clothes filthy and reeking of a foul stench.
"Martin, where've you been? Some guy here said Johnny's dead, and he's the new boss."
The burly man named Martin froze when he saw Mason, then seemed to realize something. His face changed dramatically, he stumbled, turned around, and scrambled toward the exit.
Everyone then noticed he wasn't wearing actual clothes at all, but rather strips of cloth torn from somewhere. Because he was running so frantically, he stepped on the rags and tumbled face-first onto the ground.
The burly man didn't care about his dignity. He rolled on the floor and was about to get up when he felt a heavy weight on his shoulder—a boot stomped down on him, making him feel as if a mountain was crushing his back.
"Do you know me?" Mason's eyes flashed coldly as he asked sharply.
The burly man didn't look up. "No, I don't know you!"
"Lift your head!"
Mason scrutinized him carefully. Although his face was filthy, his features were still clearly visible. He thought for a moment and realized he'd never seen this face before.
But this didn't put him at ease. Instead, it made him even more suspicious.
Just because he hasn't seen this face doesn't mean he truly hasn't encountered him before.
Because before Mason's consciousness descended into this body, it had belonged to another person!
"Have you seen me before?" Mason leaned down and asked in a cold voice.
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