Malfunctioning Utopia

Chapter 10: Snow

When Sun Jack felt the bald man's brain turn to complete mush, the anger pent up in his chest finally dissipated.

He raised his foot and delivered a forceful kick, simultaneously yanking the Electric Arc Blade from the mangled flesh. Without its arc, the blade slid out cleanly as the bald man's body collapsed with a heavy thud.

Something must have dislodged in the system within his brain, as bursts of moaning—both male and female—began playing in loops from his neural slots.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You were seriously watching adult videos during a fight?” Sun Jack, still fuming, marched over and swung the blade down, slicing off the man's head without hesitation.

After finishing, there was no time for even half a breath of rest. Clenching his fists and gripping his blade tightly, he turned his attention to the bald man's fallen subordinates.

Strike after strike, he kept on cutting them down, one by one. Sun Jack was exhausted, but he didn’t dare stop. If any of them got back up, it would be his life on the line.

As he fought, Sun Jack realized killing felt strangely natural—almost as if he’d done it hundreds, even thousands of times before.

When the last enemy finally lost his head, Sun Jack collapsed into a puddle, gulping in heavy breaths. His wounds throbbed with renewed pain. “Why does this painkiller suck so bad?”

“It’s not the painkillers; your body’s at its limit. You’re too badly hurt,” Tapai, his entire body emitting smoke, stumbled over and pulled Sun Jack to his feet. “You’re a badass, Jack.”

“You okay? You’re literally smoking,” Sun Jack asked, concern tinged with sarcasm.

“Won’t kill me, just a short circuit.”

“All I wanted was to survive—why the hell is that so hard?” Blood trickled from the corner of Sun Jack’s mouth, dripping into the puddle below and staining the black water red.

“If you’re asking me, who the hell should I ask? Let’s get out of here first,” Tapai replied, supporting him as they limped toward the edge of the ruins.

“Wait for me!” A battered and smoking Song 6PUS wobbled after them, somehow still on his feet.

“Damn, you’re hard to kill,” Sun Jack muttered, tilting his head and shooting Song a sidelong glance. “Totally useless, though. Nothing but dead weight. If it weren’t for needing some startup funds, I wouldn’t have bothered saving you.”

“Don’t blame me for dragging you down—I’m this injured! What am I supposed to do? Besides, didn’t you take my combat prosthetics? Your kills are basically my kills.”

“Wait a second, let me start a livestream—hey there, folks, I’m back—”

“Turn off the stream!” Sun Jack and Tapai yelled in unison, finally prompting Song 6PUS to comply.

If he dared to keep streaming, Sun Jack swore he’d shove a cannon barrel down Song’s throat and fire it off.

Sun Jack tilted his head back, letting the rain wash over his face. At least it helped him stay awake; right now, he felt like he might pass out.

The acid rain pattered against the wound on his missing ear, sending stabs of pain through his head.

As the rain poured down, Sun Jack’s upturned gaze suddenly caught sight of something emerging from the storm clouds.

The rain began to lessen, and something within the clouds seemed to block it. At first, it was just a black right angle. But as the shape extended, more and more dark metal emerged, growing ever larger—larger than a mountain—until it filled his entire field of vision. ṟ𝐚ＮỘβÈś

Watching this colossal thing continue to emerge from the clouds, a shiver of primal fear rippled through Sun Jack, leaving him breathless. “What the hell... is that thing?”

In the next instant, the sky blazed white. When his eyes adjusted to the glare, Sun Jack squinted and finally made out its shape. It was a giant, blinding light post—each beam as big as a house.

The massive metallic construct, nearly covering the entire sky, illuminated the world below with ten glaring floodlights. It loomed like a god, gazing coldly at the tiny beings beneath it.

At that moment, Sun Jack finally understood: the thing above wasn’t some natural phenomenon—it was man-made. A massive space aircraft carrier!

The next second, a deafening mechanical voice boomed from the heavens:

“Warning, warning. This area is corporate property. Gaofeng Technology Corporation retains final ownership rights to all orbital debris. All present individuals must cease theft immediately and vacate the premises within one minute. Failure to comply will result in the corporation taking all legally permissible actions to protect its assets. 59... 58... 57...”

The voice cycled through multiple languages, mechanical yet icy. The information it conveyed filled Sun Jack with unease, especially after seeing the reactions of others scavenging the ruins.

Around him, the sound of gunfire and explosions abruptly ceased. Confronted with the looming colossus overhead, no one had the stomach to continue their skirmishes. Instead, they grabbed their spoils and fled the scene.

Sun Jack had no idea what “legally permissible actions” might entail, but he was sure it wouldn’t be anything good. The three of them pushed forward with everything they had.

“35... 34... 33...” The countdown echoed like a death knell, tolling ominously overhead. Meanwhile, the floodlights shifted from blinding white to flashing red, casting an oppressive atmosphere over the ruins.

“Look over there!” Following Tapai’s outstretched finger, Sun Jack squinted through the rain and mist, spotting a distant peak.

As they drew closer, the shape became clearer—a mountain built entirely of stacked plastic bags. A garbage mountain.

Sun Jack pushed himself to run, but the earlier fight with the bald man had drained him completely. Each step felt heavier than the last.

Suddenly, the flashing lights stopped.

“...3... 2... 1. According to Article 315 of the Fortress Act, you are unlawfully encroaching on private property. Gaofeng Technology Corporation will now initiate unlimited liability self-defense measures.”

A groggy Sun Jack looked up, only to see the sky dotted with the red and green targeting lights of countless drones. It was as if the storm had transformed into a deadly snowfall of red and green.

“Move it!” Song 6PUS shouted, rushing over to support Sun Jack’s other side with his lone arm. Together, they stumbled toward the garbage mountain.

As the red and green "snowflakes" rained down, the drones began spewing fire, scouring the ruins of all living things. Bullets mingled with the rain, making it impossible to tell which droplets were water and which were lethal projectiles.

Seeing the drones closing in on him, Sun Jack gritted his teeth, raised his modified metal prosthetic, and launched one explosive round after another. The projectiles burst through the rain, taking out drones midair.

But no matter how many drones he destroyed, more swarmed in to take their place, their numbers seemingly endless.

“Is this it? Are we really going to die here?” Sun Jack muttered, his eyes scanning the chaos for a way out. Yet no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t think of a solution.

The drones weren’t the real problem. Even if he shot down a hundred, it wouldn’t matter. The true threat was the colossal steel beast looming above them.

The disparity in power was too vast. There was no way the three of them could fight back against such an overwhelming enemy. It was a deathtrap—plain and simple.

The air seemed to freeze as the trio found themselves surrounded by drones, their red and green lights resembling the unblinking eyes of Death itself.

“Survival probability: 0%... Survival probability: 0%...” Tapai muttered, frantically running calculations in a desperate bid to find a way out.

Staring at the sea of drones and the massive aircraft carrier that had completely replaced the sky, Sun Jack felt an overwhelming sense of despair. This was a force that humanity simply couldn’t hope to resist.

Just as they were about to be turned into swiss cheese by gunfire, Song 6PUS, who had been trailing behind Sun Jack, stepped forward. “Heroes always arrive last—let me handle this.”

“What?” Sun Jack stared at him in shock. “Could this guy actually be some kind of hidden expert? Has he been playing dumb this whole time?”

Facing the airborne harbingers of death, Song 6PUS remained completely calm. With a dramatic flourish, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a golden card, and held it high above his head with one hand. A look of immense pride crossed his face as he declared, “I! Have! Money!!”

The moment those words left his lips, the drones’ spinning gun barrels came to an abrupt stop. Their cameras swiveled in unison, fixing on Song 6PUS.

“I’m buying time with cash!” he shouted.

One of the drones descended rapidly, scanning the golden card.

As soon as the payment was processed, the drones dispersed as if nothing had happened, their menacing presence evaporating.

Even the colossal steel beast overhead seemed to accommodate them, thoughtfully shifting the oppressive red floodlights back to a neutral white glow. It was as if it was serenading them with a “farewell” song.

The suffocating tension that had gripped the air moments before was completely gone.