Cyber ​​Ghost Record

Chapter 71: Taking Over

Patrol drones fly over the coking pools of the manufacturing center.

Gunshots rang out intermittently in the empty streets.

Cockroaches crawled up the wall in the garbage heap, and the cracks in the concrete and tiles were stained with a brownish-yellow scale.

This type of building consists of hundreds of hexagonal cells with a volume of eight cubic meters each; some call it a beehive, while others call it a capsule apartment.

A young water ghost sat by the window, indifferent to the chaos in the neighborhood. The pollution data had long since eroded the last vestige of his sensitivity. Amphetamines, ephedrine... those outdated drugs could no longer evoke pleasure; only the most extreme stimulation could make him feel alive.

Twisted light and shadow flashed in mid-air.

An unregistered drone shed its optical camouflage, dropped a package onto a windowsill, and then quickly disappeared into the neon lights, like a dragonfly skimming the water.

The water ghost opened the package, inserted the chip into his data interface, and the electronic drug hijacked the numb striatum in his brain, creating countless pleasures—food, sex, honor, victory…

In an instant, he reached the summit.

Similar scenes occurred in various corners of the neighborhood.

Black drones are delivering illicit packages, and in streets, alleys, and underground spaces, people of all appearances are secretly receiving electronic drugs, prohibited films, knowledge, weapons...

Illegal drones dart between neon lights and darkness, silently evading surveillance, and following the faint outside lights, fly into the windows of the underground warehouse.

The waitress entered the storeroom, removed her bulky classical attire, and hung it by the door. These clothes were merely a disguise; here, they were a burden. She walked naked down the corridor.

Four Aurora brand printers are running. Compared to the Tiansun series printers currently used in the Maker Center, these outdated machines do not have independent compartments and are connected to bulky oval-shaped silver material containers.

Disposable chips loaded with electronic drug data, electric pulse rifles, military-style prosthetic bodies... all sorts of contraband are gradually being generated under lasers and nozzles, like Jesus being baptized.

The waitress entered the control room without looking to either side. The control room was equipped with electromagnetic shielding; the mechanical buttons on the console were outdated but ensured safety. She scanned the delivery records: two drones had been captured and disconnected, and one damaged drone urgently needed repair. Her job used to be handling these kinds of incidents, but now, this underground printing plant was about to cease operations. The printers aborted unfinished orders, and two minutes later, the last drone responded to the recall order, lying dormant on the logistics platform.

The windows on the warehouse exterior slowly closed, and the lights on the ceiling went out one by one. The screen in front of the waitress suddenly went black, reflecting her image. A feeling of reluctance welled up in her emotional module; now, she too was about to enter an endless period of hibernation.

Suddenly, another dark figure appeared on the screen. The waitress recognized the familiar silhouette and abruptly opened her eyes in the last moments before going into hibernation. With a faint hum, the printing plant was once again enveloped in bright white light. The screen displayed a prompt to restart the system.

The waitress turned her head 180 degrees to look at the uninvited guest who had suddenly appeared in the control room. The owner of the floating shop appeared at the control room door, wearing a gray silk trench coat, with several scars on his neck and cheeks. He had been arrested jointly by the security bureau and the military; even if he were the real Asura, there was no way he could escape.

However, the waitress had no right to ask further questions.

She called out "Master," and he strode over to the control panel, asking urgently, "How much money is left?"

"The printing plant has ceased operations, and there is currently 178734.55 yuan stored in a temporary account."

"Transfer everything to this account." He slapped the physical memory card in front of her. "Give me control over this account."

“All funds have now been invested in the dark web, and will be laundered at a discount rate of 61.7% according to the current optimal plan.” The waitress handled the task methodically, and the number of temporary accounts on the holographic screen decreased rapidly. “I cannot complete the second instruction. The highest authority here belongs to you.”

"My brain is severely damaged," Yue Guocheng gasped for breath, glanced at her, and pointed to his temple. "Time is running out, hurry!"

“Only you know the password.” The waitress hesitated for a moment, glancing at her master’s head. Yue Guocheng’s behavior was somewhat unusual, but if he had shut down his brain-computer interface, then his memory storage and thinking functions could be impaired, which made sense.

Half a second later, she activated the emergency plan, and intermittent audio and video messages flashed by.

Yue Guocheng stared unmoved at the flashing lights and words before him, when a voice rang in his ears:

[This is bad; these are clues about his mental anchor.] [Can these clues be used to reconstruct his mental anchor?]

【impossible. 】

Shen Ke's image sat on the window of the control room, her gaze peering through the silver metal mesh at the empty printer below.

"The anchor of consciousness cannot be replicated; this is an 'ironclad rule,'" she added, emphasizing two words. "That's why thought locks are widely used."

"I can't remember."

Yue Guocheng frowned and rubbed his temples hard with his thumb.

"Fine, just transfer the money to me first," he ordered again.

“The money laundering is complete. Only you can make the transfer. You always do it yourself.” The waitress looked at him, her tone hesitant. Her repeated emphasis indicated that she had become suspicious of him, even though her identity verification system told her that he was indeed her master.

That guy can forge identities.

Shen Ke opened her palm on the windowsill, and a semi-transparent human skin mask floated in her hand, its features exactly the same as the shop owner of Fubo. Undoubtedly, this was the masterpiece of "Painted Skin".

But many people... especially those on the fringes of society, don't just rely on identity information. Behavioral patterns, body language habits, even the frequency of your word choice can give you away. My advice is to minimize interaction with her.

She looked at the naked waitress as she spoke.

If the self-destruct mechanism here is triggered, you won't get a single penny.

Yue Guocheng frowned and gave the waitress his final order.

"You're done here. Go back to hibernation."

"receive."

The waitress sat in the white leather chair in the control room and went into standby mode. In the last moment before her vision went dark, amidst the flickering noise of the camera, "Yue Guocheng's" appearance was somewhat distorted.

Suger stood in the control room, sizing up the waitress and scanning the screens around him. He walked to the window, his gaze sweeping over the material bins next to the printers.

"I'm not getting that 170,000 either?"

"After laundering, we'll only have about 100,000 yuan left," Shen Ke said. "It's impossible to break his mind lock, so forget about getting that money."

Suger ran his fingers along the silver paint on the windowsill. "He was arrested by the security bureau. This place hasn't been affected yet."

"Let's lay low for a while. If the security bureau doesn't find this printing plant after a while, it means it's safe and stable enough. If we can restart it, 100,000... conservatively speaking, that's just the profit from a week of stable operation."

The windowsill felt cold and damp. Su Ge pulled his fingertips back, clenched his palms, and found they were sweating. The profits from this underground printing factory excited him, but also worried him. If he took over Yue Guocheng's business, he would become a smuggler.

But compared to his secrets and the recent prison break, smuggling seems to be a minor matter.

"I have no experience." His breathing quickened noticeably.

"Very decisive." Shen Ke smiled. "Buy printing data from the dark web, secure a stable supply of materials, develop clients and downlines... Once you've done all that, you can take on this business."

(End of this chapter)