Cyber Era Witch
Chapter 961 - 764: Rachel of the West Coast

Chapter 961: Chapter 764: Rachel of the West Coast

Du Qianqian drove a light and cheap Shuttle Machine to take Rachel out of the apartment, casually leaving it in the parking lane of a restaurant, and then fled on foot with Rachel.

"I just abandoned it like that, don’t you find it strange?" Du Qianqian asked.

"You are attempting to seek validation from the judgment of others. To play along with you, I would say your actions are quite debonair and well-considered," Rachel said.

"Unable to see your father for the last time, we have to figure out a way to escape."

"Of course."

Even upon their first meeting, Du Qianqian felt that Rachel was very much to her liking.

Rachel is well-trained, composed, and carries an attitude of looking down on Du Qianqian. Each aspect was to Du Qianqian’s satisfaction.

It was a bit troublesome to safely send Rachel back to Shangjing, with a vast ocean between them, a chasm as wide as the sky itself.

But an order is an order, and Du Qianqian would find a way to bring this woman, who just lost her father, under the protection of Nestor Corporation.

"What is that?" Du Qianqian saw Rachel sorting through the items she took from the apartment, including a silver tin can.

"An inheritance. The inheritance of that family." Rachel hid the silver tin can deep in her handbag, "You captured me also for the inheritance, I understand. To prevent me from falling into my father’s employer’s hands. My father has already vanished from this world; I cannot follow in his footsteps."

"Of course, if you follow some rules you can escape with your life: first, obey my commands; second, do not act on your own accord; third, do not inquire about my personal matters," Du Qianqian said without looking back.

"It seems the first rule encompasses the latter two."

"Well, anyway... more or less."

"Do you always communicate with others using low-information density, imprecise language?" Rachel asked.

"Let’s not talk about that," Du Qianqian continued to shift shapes, searching for an appropriate appearance, her voice also constantly changing, from the robust tone of a middle-aged man to the hoarse voice of an old person, "...why do you have so many names?"

"Rachel Miller is the name my father Maverick gave me; he married Nakamura Kyoko, and I lived with my mother from a young age. She gave me another name ’Nakamura Akina.’ As you see, I have the typical appearance of a young woman from the Eastern Hemisphere, so I’m more accustomed to using the name Nakamura Akina, which is also my name within the company. When I engage in hacking, my alias is ’Akira.’"

Du Qianqian brought Rachel to a dirty alley, where an operative from Nestor Corporation had left a package of new clothes and supplies, all wrapped in military green rubber leather.

"Change into these clothes. Also, you have too many names; it’s all confusing to me. From now on, your name is ’Nakamura Mizuki,’" Du Qianqian ordered.

"To name something is an act of claiming ownership, may I ask if you now consider me as your property?" Rachel changed into the new clothes provided by Du Qianqian.

Meanwhile, Rachel triggered a switch on her jaw, her facial prosthetics began to slide, just like a dramatic transformation in theatre, one mask retracted deep into her skull while another mask slid out.

In the instant the masks switched, Du Qianqian saw underneath Rachel’s face were precision electronic components.

High-definition cameras replaced eyeballs, metal frames took the place of jawbones, nasal bones, cheekbones, and other skeletal supports, as if Rachel’s entire face was printed out of metal.

Du Qianqian frowned, remaining silent.

"You are speechless because you realize modern technology can replace your Magic Power," Nakamura Mizuki walked out of the alley with Du Qianqian.

"It’s because I’m starting to find you boring," Du Qianqian said.

"You must have a safe house here," Rachel said.

She examined Du Qianqian’s current appearance; she had transformed into a 2-meter-tall cyborg giant, like the famed Aiden the Crusher.

"Yes, but we cannot visit it frequently. We have to walk aimlessly like strangers, maintaining a distance of dozens of meters, drifting apart here and there, mumbling to ourselves," Du Qianqian strolled forward.

The West Coast, the most chaotic lawless city in New Taixi State, a depraved metropolitan ruin.

Beneath the high-speed luxury Shuttle Machines, lay a mass of poor people waiting for death. The streets were horribly dirty, and the garbage-covered enclosures ringed with barbed wire were packed with those close to death, lifeless, those left without options due to hunger, disability, terminal illness, sitting quietly on the streets. Scavengers walked past them, selecting the relatively strong and intact like choosing goods.

At every moment, people would fall or be killed. They were like some sort of disposable cockroach, merely stuck to the ground, only to die in a few days and disappear, like NPCs in a game that vanish when beyond the field of vision, refreshed. Come back awhile later and you’ll find a new batch has sprung up.

There was no hope to speak of, society completely solidified, extremely limited upward channels; fast money meant crime, to attack, to rob corporate property, or simply rob each other.

Any job could bury one deeper in loans, for medical expenses, housing, cyborg surgery loans... anything could crush a person. Sometimes people had to pay just to work, just to live another day.

As Du Qianqian walked here, every second she could hear the shouts of Law Enforcers and the loud alarm sounds, as well as the screeching brakes of vehicles or collisions between Shuttle Machines.

She could make out the commanding shouts of a group of Law Enforcers hundreds of meters away, trying to control the situation, overwhelmed and confused, seeking for backup.

On the streets, many looked at her with suspicious gazes, people of different ethnicities sticking together. Eastern’s Descendant, Andean descent, Black Descendant, people of the Near East, White Elephant Continent’s people, naturally forming different gangs scattered across the West Coast, brutal and bloodthirsty like wild animal packs, culling the weak.

Even in the absence of corporate forces, Du Qianqian still felt as though she was being watched, observed by thousands of eyes.

If it weren’t for the full disguises she and Nakamura Mizuki were in, they would have been killed on the streets by now.

After hundreds of meters, they stood on a demarcation line guarded by unmanned drones.

Behind them was the chaos they had just passed through; ahead, a clean street awaited.

Du Qianqian waved to a Law Enforcer drone, which then turned off its warning lights and cleared the path.

"’Hacking tools’?" Nakamura Mizuki saw Du Qianqian easily shooing away the drone.

The drone was armed with firepower enough to blow up an entire street and absolutely prohibited unauthorized entry into certain areas.

"Of course," Du Qianqian said with pride.

"But you weren’t originally skilled in this area," Nakamura Mizuki observed Du Qianqian at work.

It seemed that Du Qianqian possessed a kind of electronic device beyond Nakamura Mizuki’s understanding.

It could freely "steal" surrounding signals, creating an amorphous zone of signal confusion around the user, making the user virtually invisible to monitoring equipment.

It probably could generate false information, alter digital records, and change personal configuration information registered in the West Coast security systems, allowing the user to impersonate anyone.

"Our boss is skilled in this. My job is to deliver you to the boss to see if you have any valuable inheritance from your father. If you cannot produce anything of value, you’re going to die," said Du Qianqian.

Nakamura Mizuki nodded. Indeed, she had obtained crucial files from the information left by Maverick, and their value could save her life.

But, "boss"?

Such a device was vital for people in covert operations. Nakamura Mizuki thought to herself.

It could not only block scanning but also change digital information records and had the ability to crack codes in real-time.

From the description, it seemed that this boss could easily develop such advanced technology.

It meant that he himself might be a formidable tech expert, likely experienced and highly skilled.

Just like her father Maverick, Nakamura Mizuki thought to herself. Before his death, her father seemed to have led a large-scale network attack against Nestor Corporation but was repelled by Nestor’s network surveillance, which also led to his death.

If she could learn some skills from this boss, she might be able to avenge her father.

She hoped this female spy wasn’t someone from Nestor Corporation.

After passing through the security robots’ check, Du Qianqian and Nakamura Mizuki arrived at a clean and beautiful neighborhood.

The area was well-maintained, with tall green maple trees lined up on both sides, like two rows of columns.

On both sides of the street were expansive green lawns and spacious detached homes, with many children laughing and playing; there were stone pathways and dedicated bicycle lanes on both sides.

Rounding these houses was a small business district, with a large parking lot, gas stations, Shuttle Machine refueling stations on one side of the broad street, and shops like boutiques, grocery stores, supermarkets, and coffee shops on the other.

Most people, fearing accidents offline, chose online shopping; countless cargo drones took off and landed from these shops, like a large swarm of bees, coming and going, transporting goods and food to customers’ homes.

Large bipedal Law Enforcer robots patrolled the streets. They were painted in colors, and their heavy machine gun barrels were wrapped in plastic casings, making them look like oversized toys, fit to be clown robots with added streamers.

A few hours ago, Du Qianqian had seen one of them go full firepower, probably killing around 400 gang members, but that was in another district.

Du Qianqian brought Nakamura Mizuki to one of the stations, preparing to hide her in a cargo container and then ship her away.

"You’ll be going to the Northern Archipelago soon," Du Qianqian said.

"Ah, Nestor Corporation," Nakamura Mizuki realized her hope was shattered.

She still had to collaborate with Nestor Corporation, this rapidly growing industry giant.

She knew that it was good for both parties; Nestor could get a lot of crucial intelligence from her, including information about the mysterious organization "Seven Seals." And she could learn more advanced technology from Nestor until she became as skilled as her father.

"What do you know about Nestor Corporation?" Du Qianqian asked.

"A company that changes people’s way of life. For 20000, you can bring home a low-priced female Synthetic Human for a kiss, and with an additional 5000, you can hold an online wedding on Nestor’s official website to unlock deep features, otherwise, that thing won’t turn on. All sorts of custom appearances. Much cheaper than a real girlfriend. Even cheaper if you’re good with hacking," Nakamura Mizuki said.

"Do you have money?" Du Qianqian asked.

"I work at an insurance company and also make money by attacking hospitals."

"Why attack hospitals? What do they owe you?" Du Qianqian was curious.

"In some hospitals, for those involved in car accidents, doctors will say there’s no condition to save them or scare the family with an extraordinarily high price; then pretend to resuscitate while getting the family to sign a contract. They say: He’s going to die, now donate a liver or kidney, and you can get a lot of money; if you don’t sign, the person dies in vain and there’s a high surgery fee, you end up with nothing. Most people sign."

"But those people weren’t dead yet, right?" Du Qianqian asked.

"With the family outside signing contracts, the doctors go into the operating room, and while the victim is still alive, they start cutting. The person inside gets cleaned out, and the outside waits for money. If some families kindly wanted to leave more flesh for their relatives, the doctors would still secretly take it all anyway. After all, everyone ends up in the furnace, and it’s unclear whether it was measured too heavy or too light; in the end, it’s just, a heap of ashes," Mizuki said.

"How do you know this so clearly?"

"After all, that’s what my dad did to my mom," Nakamura Mizuki pointed to the silver tin can in her handbag.