"John, John?"
Knock, knock.
Gino gently tapped on the car window.
"Shit, damn it, where the hell am I?"
John woke up abruptly in the driver's seat.
In a strong dizziness, he recalled the events—he accepted the commission from Serum, preparing to shoot down the Plato executive's hovercar. Now the attack equipment was in place.
"When did I fall asleep?"
His prosthetic eye glowed faintly red, with the edge of the lens focusing unstably.
Gino untied the towel wrapped around her wrist and handed it to John to wipe his sweat, her furrowed brows conveying her concern.
"No delay, but your body... can it hold up?"
"I can't say. No intubation, no bleeding, but it feels like... if I fall asleep, I might not wake up."
"...Alright, stop worrying about nonsense, do the job and let the boss give you a way out."
