My Cyber Psychosis is Task Prompt

John bent down and pulled a knife from the corpse.

As he weighed it in his hand, he noticed its balance was off, likely crafted specifically as a throwing weapon.

The internal structure of the factory was relatively simple.

Messiah's Eye activated combat mode.

Data grids spread out, marking the gang members stationed there with red outlines.

John silently reached the first floor.

He used the knife to slit the throat of a lone man urinating in the corner—the cut was a bit difficult, the blade was too short, causing a nasty wound with blood splattering all over the walls.

John laid the corpse down among miscellaneous items.

There were two gang members at the back door of the factory.

John calmly rounded the corner, throwing the knife toward them. He had never used throwing weapons before, relying purely on the previously loaded Chip for operation.

He aimed for the throat, but the knife embedded itself into the eye socket.

The comrade sitting on the steps tried to draw a gun and stand.

John was already close, knee-striking him in the forehead, then clenched his fist and smashed his Adam's apple, before getting up to twist the other man's neck and retrieve the knife.

He shook off the bloodstains.

The Atlanta Virtual Network activated.

John connected to surveillance through Messiah's Eye, ensured no one was watching, then quickly pushed open the door to enter the factory.

The workshop was filled with mechanical roars, the smell was pungent.

Giant fans were embedded around the steel structure of the dome.

Employees were busily working around the assembly line, tall stacks of goods shuttled between warehouses on carts.

John used the goods to move forward.

Employees were bending over forklifts, wearing gas masks, their expressions either numb or resentful.

Edward's wages were being withheld.

The ordinary employees probably weren't much better off.

"Stop gawking, if you don't finish your work, I'll let you taste the Bullet!"

A gun-toting thug stood beside the passageway.

His eyes had been modified into lenses, wearing a gray vest, with insulting designs tattooed on his bare skin.

The cart worker averted his gaze and quickened his steps.

The gang thug cursed at the employee's back, then turned around only to face John's hand, his cheek suddenly cradled by a stranger, his vision flickered, and then... nothing felt anymore.

John caught the corpse and dragged it into the shadows.

He advanced along the edge of the workshop, an iron-mesh walkway overhead, eliminating lone targets beneath the feet of gang members.

There were cameras at the elevator entrance.

There was little movement in the corridor, the lights were broken and unrepaired; in the dim light, something seemed to flash by.

Cement pillars and steel structure supports upheld the second floor.

Packing materials were piled up like a maze.

John saw two guards chatting in the distance.

He managed the distance and successfully flung the knife into the opponent's throat, engaged Sianweistan to cross the brightly lit corridor, and covered the other person's mouth before he screamed and raised his gun.

Whimper, crunch.

The noise of the falling body attracted other guards.

John pressed against the material pile, controlled his breath, and watched beside him—the gun barrel out first, the gunman calling his companion's name, legs stepping out defenselessly...

John slipped forward, smoothly catching the man's head, and then forcefully twisted it.

He cradled the body and gently placed it into a box, picked up a large piece of corrugated cardboard to cover the blood stains in the corridor, then dragged the corpse into the shadows.

As soon as John left, someone stepped on the cardboard box.

A gun-toting thug surveyed the area without seeing anyone, called out several names into the shadows, muttered as he walked in, thinking it was his companions loitering again.

John appeared like a ghost from another direction.

Messiah's Eye emitted a faint light, his hand holding a bloodied knife, silently trailing the guy, almost stepping in his footprints.

A moment later.

A faint struggling sound came from deep within the materials pile.

The gang leader in the office squinted his eyes, the cigar resting on his lips for a long time without being smoked, he slowly placed it on the stand.

"Nigel!?"

"Lachie!"

"Fredre..."

The factory was eerily quiet.

He kept calling out his subordinates' names, while stealthily picking up the kinetic shotgun.

"Mata!"

"Is anyone still around?"

The leader intentionally shouted loudly, his face serious, already wearing a bulletproof vest and holding the shotgun at the door—except for the factory machinery's roar and cart wheels, there was no movement.

Bang!

Buzz, buzz buzz, buzz...

Collision sounds echoed from the workshop, device alarms flashed red, even the sprinkler system seemed to activate.

The leader cautiously opened the door to investigate:

The factory was shrouded in a water curtain.

The employees seemed to have caused trouble, spectators were frantically rescuing, there were several people wearing safety helmets trying to lift the forklift, chemical raw material bottles shattered, corrosive liquid bubbling on the floor...

The leader silently watched for a long time.

He suddenly kicked the door, raised the gun, and swiftly searched the corner.

The sprinkler system was still functioning normally.

The scars on the leader's face intercepted the accumulated water, the bulletproof vest soaked to dark color, dripping from the leather corners onto the steel plate, making an unsettling ticking sound...

Where did the guards on duty go?

He proceeded up the stairs, arriving at the accident site.

Workers wearing gas masks were cleaning up the liquid, seeing the factory ruler armed come, they dropped their tools and raised their hands, exclaiming and standing against the wall in a row.

"What the hell is going on?"

The leader menacingly approached, boot soles sizzled on the corrosive liquid.

He confirmed that something nasty was lurking around, approached again, eyeballs swiftly scanning for a target, suddenly turned and raised the gun barrel...