Malfunctioning Utopia

Chapter 22: Making Money

In a corner of the Hotdog Diner, just as Sun Jack was still shaken by Four Ai's deadly demeanor, he suddenly noticed a tall, two-meter man in a sharp suit. The man was Black, wore sunglasses, and carried a red metal-bound book as he walked toward them.

Before the man even got close, Sun Jack tensed up, instinctively gripping the rifle slung behind Tapai. It wasn't without reason—on the Black man's neck was a tattoo of an inverted cross, the same mark worn by the bald man who had severed his arm earlier. This guy was part of the Satan Gang!

"Hey, hey, it's fine, no need to be so jumpy," Song 6PUS said hurriedly, trying to defuse the tension. "This here is the Father. He's already left the Satan BOYS. See? There's a crown of thorns tattooed beneath the cross."

As the man, referred to as Father, sat down with a cold expression, the small table suddenly felt cramped.

Sun Jack buckled up mentally, knowing things were about to get serious. It was clear Song 6 had gathered everyone here not for a meal but for business.

"Heh, let's keep this low-key to avoid any leaks. We'll talk online," Song 6's voice rang in Sun Jack's mind as a virtual invite popped up in his vision.

After clicking "Accept," a simple interface appeared, showing everyone present was connected.

"Can everyone hear me?" Song 6's voice echoed in their ears.

"Since you're all pros, I'll skip the formalities and get straight to the point. Our task this time is to break into an offline server at a deceased rockstar's mansion. This guy had a thing for asphyxiation kinks. Rumor has it he's linked to the deaths of two of his band's bass players. Bottom line, we're digging up dirt on him."

"Heh, paparazzi work? Lame," Four Ai muttered, lighting a cigarette.

"Hold on. Why all this effort just to snoop on a rockstar's gossip?" Sun Jack asked.

If this was just a tabloid job, why involve a combat medic? Add to that the hefty 5@ coin payout, and something didn’t add up.

Song 6 shrugged dramatically. "Because he's a Gaofeng Security Services 'D'-tier annual VIP, that's why."

Sun Jack sucked in a cold breath. Gaofeng Technology? That was the company that owned the massive space aircraft carrier he had seen after his arrival!

"Wow. You really think we can handle their tech from down here?" Sun Jack shot back, feeling like Song 6 was leading them to their deaths.

"Relax~~. No need to freak out," Song 6 waved it off casually. "He's just got insurance with Gaofeng, not their entire company budget. There's no way he can afford Leviathan V5-class security."

With a flourish, Song 6 projected a 3D model for everyone to see.

"The mansion has four floors, with two security bots patrolling each floor. What we're looking for is in Room 3 of the second basement."

"His band, Slit Your Throat, is scheduled to attend a coming-out party at a rich guy's house tomorrow morning. That means the mansion will be empty—our chance to strike."

As Song 6 explained, details of the plan materialized in graphical form before Sun Jack's eyes.

"Now for the plan: during the op, King Kong, our hacker support, will breach the mansion's AI butler, disable the cameras, and block auto-alerts. You'll have 23 minutes tops."

"In those 23 minutes, you need to bypass Gaofeng's security, head to the second basement, and plug this into the offline server." Song 6 held up a device resembling a USB drive.

"Once that's in, wait two minutes and get out. Mission complete."

Song 6 made it sound simple, but Sun Jack immediately spotted the flaw. "Bypass Gaofeng's security? You say that like it's as easy as eating breakfast."

If it were that simple, why involve so many people? Couldn't Song 6 just do it himself?

"Hey, bro~~," Song 6 draped an arm around Sun Jack's shoulder. "I know what you two can do. You pulled me out of that hellhole before. What's a little Gaofeng security bot, eh?" ꭆÂꞐÓ𝖇ĚＳ

Staring at the heavily armed bots in the hologram, Sun Jack weighed his options. The job promised a fat reward, but the risks were sky-high.

"Bro, I know you're new here and strapped for cash. That's why I'm offering you this sweet deal. If you don't take it, what's the point of that fancy combat prosthetic? You gonna go corporate and lick some suit's boots?"

The mention of corporate life triggered unpleasant memories of his grueling job interview, and Sun Jack felt the gnawing hunger in his stomach. With a bitter smile, he thought, The joke's on me. After all this thinking, I don't really have a choice.

In this hellhole, there was no such thing as a normal job. If he didn't want to starve, he had only one option.

Looking around at the others, Sun Jack finally spoke up on the channel for the first time. "I'll join, but this is too dangerous."

"And?" Four Ai leaned back in her chair.

"I want more money!"

If he was going to risk his life, he might as well get the most out of it. He had to haggle; his survival depended on it.

"Why?" Song 6's usual grin disappeared, replaced with a serious expression.

"Because you owe me 30@ coins in life-saving debts. Don't tell me you've forgotten? How much will you make from this job? Isn't it time to pay up?"

At that, Song 6 gave a sheepish laugh and pulled Sun Jack close again. His voice dropped in volume over the neural network. "Bro, stuff like that—let's keep it private, yeah? If I agree to pay you more now, what will the others think?"

"Come on, bro, 7.4@, okay? Please? I’ll even chip in some of my share for you. I can’t give more, or I won’t make any profit. If I’m broke, none of us get anything, right?"

After some back-and-forth, they settled on 9@. With the deal sealed, Song 6 felt triumphant. This team was a bargain for the price, especially with a cyber-enhanced fighter like Sun Jack.

Once everyone was on board, Song 6 signaled the robotic bartender for five beers, raising one high in a toast.

"Alright, since nobody has any objections, this deal is done! For @!"

The four of them exchanged glances before Sun Jack was the first to raise his glass. It wasn’t to give face to Song 6; he was just starving and desperate for anything to fill his stomach. His lead spurred the others to follow suit.

When the beers clinked together at the center of the table, it marked the start of their perilous mission.