036: Boxing Gym

John woke up when it was already late into the night.

The neon glow filtered through the metal grid, revealing Eden City as it began to boil over. Compared to the lifeless, stagnant day, the city at night felt strangely more intimate.

Vehicle engines roared, construction equipment hummed, and the vibrations of hovercars skimming past skyscrapers rattled the air...

John pulled back the lattice curtains and began to dress while looking out the window. Colossal holographic advertisements towered into the sky, constantly climbing along the perimeters of the high-rises. Hovercars streaked rapidly along the orbital city tracks, while in the shadows below, the sleepless masses of every stripe went about their business.

Midnight radio, wine-red lights, and green dreams.

The city was noisier after dark than it was during the day, yet it brought John an inexplicable sense of peace. The room was at a comfortable temperature. A pillar projector rotated, displaying corporate product information. The playlist had ended, and the speakers were now jumping with the late-night radio broadcast, where some third-rate streamer was howling into the microphone.

"Good night, or good morning. I’m Roy, you goddamn pieces of trash—*hic*—and we’re going live in five minutes..."

"Start thinking about where your clients are today. Is the blood-money enough to cover your costs yet? Remember to check your hardware; bring some shock and awe to this beautiful city."

"Look up. The sky in Eden City is always black. The neon tubes of the strip clubs are practically touching your ass, and here you are, still unable to drag yourself out of the drug den. Living by night, dying by day, leveling up like a maniac, falling constantly to the sound of gunfire... Yeah, baby, *that* is what you call living."

"If you’ve got no work, I’ll have to hand the time over to the Cyberpsychos of the midnight shift. Honestly, I have no expectations for these shitty days. Let it all burn."

"Time’s up. Let me see who the lucky one is. Ready to flirt with the sexy Roy?"

A different, excited female voice crackled over the speakers.

"Fuck you, Roy, you son of a bitch, you really should suck my..."

"Right, right, right."

Host Roy calmly dialed down the volume. "The listeners of Eden City are as vibrant as ever. Hope you all die a miserable death. Next."

...

The pilot had already delivered the goods.

John swept up the windfall collected by Black Spider, slightly offsetting the deficit from his frantic spending earlier that day. His account balance felt much more secure now.

He picked up the katana named "Gambler" and decided to take a stroll through the Borago Club.

It was the largest shopping mall in the West District.

John had visited the north parking lot last time, which also served as the entrance to the VIP casino and high-end consumer zones. The inner sanctums required member authorization cards.

He passed the fountain bar and walked along the infinity pool toward the dance hall, where he saw the various celebrities of Eden City huddled together, twisting and laughing. Bodyguards and waiters moved among them.

The floor manager was dressed like a dandy—white gloves, slicked-back hair, elegant and lean muscles, and the facial cybernetics most popular among wealthy socialites.

There was no cyberware auction today, no high-end orgy, and no big shot had booked the venue for a birthday; it was just a routine monthly event...

Nothing interesting.

John took the elevator back to the front plaza. Standing amidst the tide of people, he looked up at the tiers of commercial districts and shops: rock bands, street racing events, and gangs clustered in their own corners.

He breathed in the air, thick with electronic cigarettes and industrial waste, feeling as if he had finally found his true self.

Influenced by the Black Gold Gang...

Graffiti-covered walls and fitness equipment placed in corners were everywhere, and the light signs advertised nothing but muscle bundles and alloy bones.

John pulled up his hood, his restlessness subsiding. Small and large boxing gyms were scattered around, and the sounds of training and combat could be faintly heard.

Carrying his monomolecular katana, he prepared to buy some melee modules and sword-specific chips.

He had originally intended to contact "Cabinet" or visit the weapon shop from last time, but Cabinet had told him that these things required specialized expertise, and it was easier to stumble upon good loot by wandering around the club.

John was standing in front of a light sign looking at an advertisement when he suddenly received a text from a stranger.

[New Contact Added - Macao Imwe]

[Hey, John. I got your contact info from Mr. Vito. We met in the office. Thanks for saving my sister... yeah, Gino. I’ve got a boxing gym on the periphery of the Borago Club. Come by and sit for a while if you’re free.]

He looked at the attached coordinates; it wasn't far, so he cut through a corridor with burnt-out lights to check it out on his way.

[Shop - Bandage Boxing Gym]

"Hey, John."

Gino draped a white towel over her shoulder and hammered the metal dummy next to the boxing ring.

John greeted her with a smile. "Why isn't the little hacker girl soaking in her deep-dive tank? Did you change professions to do grunt work?"

"Haha, you think I like wiping the stinking sweat off muscleheads here? It’s karma, John. Macao locked my equipment room."

Gino swiped for two drinks at the vending machine and tossed one to John. "On me. Did you get the gift?"

"That EMP was dope." John praised her sincerely. "Your modding skills are so badass, can anyone actually lock your workshop?"

"If they care enough, they can lock it." Gino shrugged, continuing to put the scattered equipment back in place and wiping the sweat off the leather. "This boxing gym raised me."

Macao was giving instructions on the ring. Seeing John, he dismissed the fighter.

"John, you got here fast."

"Just happened to be out for a stroll."

"Hmm, is that a katana? Fuck, a custom model from Waki Industries? You’re loaded, man."

"Just a relic from a traitor of the Owl Town."

John sat down next to him.

The Borago Club was interconnected in every direction. The boxing gym and other shops were semi-open, without any real partitions or gates; they didn't even need locks, as long as everyone knew who owned the territory.

Macao gestured, and a bikini-clad babe from the bar across the way brought over beer and food. Hearing that John wanted melee chips and sword modules, he called an acquaintance.

John followed him deep into the corner of the mall.

Macao said that the shops and supermarkets out in the open provided plenty of basic weapons, but the quality was little different from what dropped out of vending machines.

They might satisfy the needs of street thugs, but they would never stock anything worthy of an out-of-print blade. Professional weapon shops only served customers who knew their stuff.

Macao greeted a massive Black man with a scarred face using gang hand signs, then introduced him.

"This is the guy who saved Gino, John. If you follow the Eden City news, you’ll know about that rising star, the Isenberg Silver Rider. Yeah, he’s the one driving it."

[Street Cred Increased ↑]

[Black Market: More items unlocked]

The shop owner smiled, pulled his metal arm out from under his armpit, and gave John a firm handshake.

"I’ll get you some good stuff. Come on."

John followed him inside, passing through a shop selling adult toys and bypassing two security doors equipped with scanners, entering a room filled with rock music.

The entire wall was covered in various melee weapons.

From tactical knives to metal baseball bats, everything was there. Some individual weapons were hung separately on pegboards for regular maintenance.

It was said that these had all been used by street legends; they were the shop owner’s collection.

The burly Black man hauled out two long, sealed cases, inside of which were densely packed chips and modules, all secured in individual slots.