The curtain was gently stirred by the breeze, warm morning light poured into the room, casting shadows on the furniture and giving the quiet room a hint of morning vitality.
Xu Xiaoyou on the sofa squinted against the blinding light, muttered a few complaints, and turned over.
A gunshot from somewhere in the city shattered the morning tranquility.
Xu Xiaoyou opened her eyes.
After getting up, she sat quietly on the sofa, still reflecting on everything that had happened yesterday.
She hadn't slept so well, so peacefully, in a long time.
No need to wake up from hunger or cold, nor to stay alert to ever-looming dangers.
The softness of the sofa beneath her was so comforting that even the sound of chopping meat from next door in the middle of the night seemed strangely welcoming.
The girl's blond hair was disheveled, her sleepy eyes picked up the pistol on the table, ejected the magazine, and Xu Xiaoyou yawned as she loaded bullets one by one.
In the city, bullets were also astronomically priced. Due to technical scarcity, only a few powers could mass-produce them, with one bullet often fetching several hundred credit points.
A mobile phone.
Around four thousand credit points.
A handgun, seven bullets.
A stranger's info card.
Starting today, she planned to use these to start a business and aspire to become a local hero.
As the girl stepped out, embracing the good sunlight, stretching in the hallway, the neighbor's door happened to open.
The woman in sight had enchanting eyes, a shapely figure, and a fine layer of white fur covering her body, typical features of a Siren Race member.
The strap on the woman's shoulder slipped, exposing her fair skin, as she subtly winked and pouted her red lips at Xu Xiaoyou.
However, Xu Xiaoyou paid no mind to this; her eyes were drawn to the small green trash bag in the woman's hand.
She clearly saw something resembling a Pigman's arm sticking out from the trash bag...
...
The tram moved along the city's veins, its wheels grinding against the tracks with a rumbling noise. Standing by the window, one could overlook the city, where prosperity and ruin coexisted.
Gray smog lingered above the city like ghosts.
Flying vehicles crossed before towering skyscrapers, and cool-dressed fashionistas danced on giant holographic billboards.
The track was like a skyline, encircling the city. As the tram moved forward, the city's light and shadows outside changed, but the weary faces inside remained the same.
Xu Xiaoyou held onto the handle, appearing extremely slender among the many uniquely featured Alien Race passengers. Yet, strangely, these passengers instinctively made room for her.
The carriage was filled with the stinging smell of smoke, ill-mannered passengers spat carelessly, and in the cramped space, they preferred to squeeze against each other, making intimate contact with every jolt, rather than get close to the girl.
Xu Xiaoyou knew they were wary of her suit.
It was a near-universal city belief that anyone who could afford a suit was a formidable figure.
Just then, the girl's phone screen lit up, and a message popped up.
"You have completed a transaction, 2000 credit points credited to your online account."
The sweet synthesized female voice reminded Xu Xiaoyou and affirmed the passengers' perception of her.
This seemingly frail human was not to be trifled with.
Noticing the information on her phone, her brows arched slightly.
She had no intention of actually living in the Pig-faced woman's house.
If investigators came to probe the incident with the three First Tier Cleaners, staying there would be no different from walking into a trap.
So, to rid herself of this hot potato quickly, she sold the place at a rock-bottom price to an unfortunate soul online.
This was only the first payment; there was supposed to be a final payment after the buyer verified the house at noon.
She knew the nature of city people all too well, so she never expected them to truly pay the final amount; her expectations were just this low.
If an investigator did track down the buyer, what happened was none of her concern.
Xu Xiaoyou looked at the phone display with a garbled number.
With the city's warped technology level and chaotic law enforcement, she wasn't too worried about her online traces causing trouble, but out of caution, she had preemptively prepared.
The tram continued its journey.
There was always an interesting phenomenon on trams.
Whenever the tram moved from one territory into another, especially from a well-patrolled area into a more chaotic zone, the passengers acted like NPCs triggered by an exclamation mark, doing inexplicable things.
"The tram is entering Zone Six."
As the tram broadcast announced, a monkey-faced passenger suddenly exclaimed in surprise.
"Oh dear, how careless of me?"
Passengers turned towards the sound, seeing a book of scripture dropped beneath the monkey-faced passenger.
He paused mid-bend, ensuring most of the carriage noticed before picking up the scripture and scratched his head with an apologetic look.
"Sorry, sorry, hope I didn't disturb anyone. Careless me. I'll get off at the next stop to bring this scripture to the Church father."
Everyone in the city knew Zone Six was under "Church" control.
"Hey!"
Another surprised cry.
This time it was a dog-faced man who dropped a cross.
As he bent down, he inadvertently revealed the missionary clothes under his coat.
"Secret code secret code, I am actually a Preacher."
Then it was crosses, wrenches, hammers, machetes, and even a homemade air gun...
Most passengers conveniently dropped something, whether it was an identity-proving item or various weapons.
After this, the tension from prior body contact in the carriage dissipated, and passenger civility seemed to improve instantly. Even accidental bumps were met with apologies.
"The tram is entering Zone Seven."
The broadcast's reminder sounded again.
In the corner, a sheep-faced man, timid till now, finally gathered the courage to reach for a knife in his pocket, but fumbled it, and in his panic, his wallet slipped out and fell to the ground.
Thunk—
The once noisy carriage was suddenly silent as death, the air frozen at an icy standstill, with only a deadly stillness prevailing.
The sheep-faced man broke out in cold sweat, trembling as he crouched to retrieve his wallet. At the moment of relief, as he stood up and raised his head, a homemade air gun was pointed at his forehead.
Then came machetes, hammers, wrenches, even crosses...
Seeing the scene before him, the sheep-faced man's body quivered. Countless burly men surrounded him, and the passengers who were previously amicable were now glaring at him with malicious grins, brimming with murderous intent, like a lamb about to be slaughtered on the chopping board.