The Daily Life Of A Cyberpunk Magician
Chapter 367 - 221: Kill the Last Dick_2

Chapter 367: Chapter 221: Kill the Last Dick_2

There were still so many questions that needed answers.

He looked again at the three people, two men and one woman, with red, blue, and green hair. Judging by the still smooth and not dry hair, the quality of the dye they used was pretty good.

Combining this with their attire, although it was the typical street look, it was all from the top street fashion brand "Bapu"—pricey for the average person.

All in all, this group was wealthy; maybe he could borrow some money.

"Bro, can I borrow some cab fare? I’ve lost my wallet," said Diller to the three, his face wearing an affable smile, his tone somewhat humble.

"Borrow you cab fare?" The tall man leading the group was taken aback; he didn’t expect the one-armed man to make such a baffling request.

He hadn’t paid much attention to this one-armed man before, to them, encountering this man was nothing more than a minor digression.

One-armed, but the exposed metal connector on his shoulder was strange—it wasn’t the smooth and flat kind typical of a normal prosthetic socket, but showed an irregular, bumpy condition.

Generally, for compatibility with prosthetics, sockets would be kept even, but precisely because of the convenience and universality of such sockets, they could pose certain risks.

For example, if a prosthetic user lost consciousness, installing a virus-infected prosthetic on them could silently infiltrate the user’s body, gain prosthetic eye privileges, steal various kinds of information, and so on.

Therefore, some wealthy people’s prosthetic connectors were actually a kind of "password" protected device, to which only custom prosthetics could be attached.

And this man...

His clothes slightly ragged and stained with dried blood, oily hair that seemed unwashed for days, eyes sunken, heavy bags underneath, an utterly listless appearance—the farthest thing from wealth.

The connector’s tiny, uneven granules were densely packed; if it truly were an encrypted socket, the code was overly complicated, something even members of the elite Dick Family in the Fifth District wouldn’t use.

Hence, it was more likely that he was forced to sell his prosthetics, with the socket exposed to external erosive conditions for a prolonged period, becoming pitted and uneven.

In summary, this was likely just a "junkie" asking for money, not for anything legitimate, let alone repaying it.

"Sorry, we’re not acquainted," so the tall man politely refused Diller.

"I’ll definitely repay you in a couple of days, you can trust me," pleaded Diller, bowing deeply, his voice very earnest, "Please, I beg you, my home is very far from here, and I really need this fare."

"Let’s go, why bother with a junkie?" the slightly frail man beside him frowned, quite impatient; he casually tossed two banknotes and then patted the tall man’s back, "Let’s just go."

"Right, let’s not waste time, we don’t have much left to play," added the woman as she too patted the tall man’s back, her tone feigning distress.

"Thank you," Diller still bowed, seemingly noticing the three were turning to leave, he slowly picked up the money from the ground.

Then, straightening up, he watched the departing figures of the trio, calling out loudly, "Can I get a name? I will really pay you back."

"Seth Antonis." The frail man waved his hand, responding from a distance with a sneer, "Cut down on that stuff, it’s making you a wreck."

"Thank you, thank you," Diller nodded his head, repeatedly expressing his gratitude before turning to leave.

He didn’t head toward a car rental immediately, but instead entered the convenience store he had spotted earlier.

The convenience store was clean and tidy, brightly lit, filled with the unique scent of fast foods.

Such stores had no staff at late hours, with programmed working robots handling all business—on quiet nights, one robot was enough.

But Diller walked straight to the counter, his eyes on the screen above, usually playing news for the queueing customers.

However, there were neither enough customers lining up nor any interested in watching.

But now, this was a good way for Diller to catch up on what had happened these past days, he had the working robot pull up a compilation of the recent news, watching at four times the speed.

Meanwhile, across the street, Jiang Shu and the Fox, having removed his human skin mask, stood by the railing, watching Diller intently as he viewed the news inside the convenience store.

"He must have realized he’s been hypnotized by now," said the Fox gravely, "much sooner than I’d thought."

"Yes, that’s normal, don’t count Diller for a fool," Jiang Shu shrugged, "But even if he’s realized, it was only a matter of time. He’ll find out for sure when he confronts his family upon going back. Then, he’ll look for a skilled Hypnotist to help him undo the hypnosis, and that’s when you can step in."

The plans that followed were the crucial ones, more dangerous, but also presenting greater operability.

Yet, the Fox said no more. However, Jiang Shu could still discern dissatisfaction from his finger-cracking gesture.

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