Legend of the Cyber Heroes

"Ahahaha! Ahahahaha!" Willy lay in the bed of Enoch's truck, eyes rolled back, staring at the sky; "People! People! Hahaha... So many people... So much fun... Aaaaaah! Hahaha!"

"Junkie." Enoch was irritable. He had not anticipated that Willy would be so useless.

The Dyson Principles banned the production and sale of most addictive substances. Once violated, one would lose protection. Ethanol was allowed for personal use, but when not used for propulsion purposes, its intake was also strictly limited to no more than 0.3 percent of one's organic body weight.

However, some "physiologically non-addictive" goodies were still for sale.

For instance, injecting testosterone directly through the Brain-Machine Barrier, while simultaneously stimulating the brain with electric currents.

It was said to be a tradition from even before the Dyson Laws came into existence. Traditional men, after playing a round of martial arts games or watching a competition, would choose to indulge in this activity.

Enoch especially enjoyed this set up. He had become a heavy-duty mechanical body before his adolescence, so theoretically, he lacked the organs to secrete testosterone, and there weren't many parts of him that needed it, like bones or muscles.

Normally, he would never have a concept of the "opposite sex."

Enoch could never forget the day he first received this service from the technician. As the liquid entered his brain, he felt ignited. It was an unprecedented sensation, one he couldn't describe. The chaotic currents released by his Biological Brain left his mechanical body bewildered.

He didn't know...

There was an impulse as if he wanted to destroy this body, to break free from the chrysalis.

He didn't even remember how he got back to town that day. He must have broken something. Back then, Yulia had scolded him. The instincts in his genes told him that he wanted to access Yulia's database... or something else. He wanted access... he wanted...

It must have been that injection that drove him mad.

Therefore, Enoch could particularly understand Willy's current state. Perhaps this poor guy, lacking money, had never experienced such things?

Over the years, Enoch had spent quite a bit of money at the service stations, including this trip with Willy, which he didn't mind too much. Aside from "being with Yulia," his dream was to become a "regular" of the service station boss. It was rumored that the boss had some ancient human imaging research materials that were very mysterious and only shown to a few regulars.

He wanted to join their ranks...

"Bang!"

A hollow sound.

Enoch was slightly annoyed. Although he lacked tactile sensors, his other sensory equipment was quite sensitive. His driving system showed that his vehicle had suddenly gained roughly two hundred kilograms in weight; combined with that sound, there was only one answer.

He had been entangled by freewheelers again.

Freewheelers were a gang of thugs, hooligans, and misfits who often had nothing better to do and lived by running errands for others. Enoch never regarded this as an upright job. Most of them couldn't afford a proper power system, so they hitched free rides with a vacuum suction cup, a set of chains, and a series of pulleys.

Everyone in the transport business hated these parasitic creatures who clung to others at will.

Enoch pulled up the map, recalling routes in the vicinity, looking for a bend—a sharp turn, if possible, to neatly sling the freewheeler off.

Under these circumstances, even if a freewheeler were killed, it wouldn't violate Dyson's Principles. A freewheeler's actions were already "unauthorized use of the owner's resources without consent"—specifically "fuel" in this case. While such behavior wouldn't cause a freewheeler to lose protection, it was deemed not worthy of protection. Should the owner retaliate and cause the freewheeler's death, the owner wouldn't lose protection.

But then came a "clang clang clang" sound. The suction cup seemed to detach and reattach to his body with each attempt, each time attaching a bit further forward.

—What the hell?

Enoch was startled and quickly braked. A dark figure rushed toward his front. Almost simultaneously, Willy's body was thrown out of the truck bed and smacked onto the ground. Following that, his left wheel turned forward, the right wheel turned backward, and he made an emergency turn.

But a suction cup had already latched onto his hood.

With the sound of the winch tightening, a silver prosthetic body with four arms drew closer: "Hey, dear Enoch friend, stop the car, would you?"

The person's voice was very gentle. Enoch was about to jerk the hood forward to hit him, but the other's actions stopped him.

A half-meter-long gun barrel aimed at the area where his Biological Brain was located.

This was a modern firearm with electromagnetic activation. Before the recoil kicked the gun barrel back, it could fire several bullets. These bullets were like a discontinuous alloy spear, enough to tear through the shell of his civilian machinery.

Enoch's engine emitted a whirring noise of tension: "Mr. Lev... I'm sorry, I... I just didn't recognize you!"

He knew this fellow. This man named "Lev" had lost his protection years ago for committing murder.

Losing protection was a terrible thing. It meant that anyone who killed you wouldn't lose their protection. Lords and their Martial Artists would not stop anyone from killing you.

On this basis, if you do anything that contradicts the "Dyson Principle," it is only then that the Lord will issue a warrant for your arrest.

In other words, losing "protection" doesn't mean "death"; it simply means that the world's number one violent organization will no longer stop others from killing you.

It could be for homological revenge, blood revenge, or something else, all at their discretion.

In such circumstances, any Thug who manages to survive is someone with real skills.

Killing someone who has lost protection does not mean losing the protection of civilization.

Therefore, on the outskirts of the city, within the various settlements, "civilization and order" still exist.

But in the Wilderness, far from the city, barbarism is the main theme.

Those Thugs who come to the Wilderness to evade pursuit after losing their protection end up slaughtering each other there.

Then, they huddle together for warmth and lick each other's wounds.

This is what "Thugs" are.

Thugs who can survive there are mostly Martial Artists, and at the very least, they know a thing or two about Martial Arts.

They are individuals whom ordinary citizens would not dare to provoke.

Enoch even recognized this Thug in front of him. The guy was short, less than 1.5 meters tall, but sturdy. The bright red "Z" on his head was his pass to do as he pleased.

He had seen this person at the service station. However, Lev, who retained more Biological Brain organs, never shared services with large machinery like Enoch. He usually went to the one next door. Enoch never dared to provoke these Thugs. It was just that once, on a whim, Lev came to the service station for heavy machinery and injected something into his brain.

"Crude! Hollow! But effective!" Lev said after coming to his senses.

At that time, Enoch was in the booth next to Lev. He summoned up the courage to speak: "Hmm."

The acquaintance between the two was limited to the service station. Sometimes, Lev would also come to this service station and inject some testosterone into his brain, then give himself a few milliamps of electric shock with electrodes. But this too was up to Lev's own mood. Enoch was always very attentive to this strongman. If they happened to be next to each other, and while the electrical signals in the brain were still erratic, Lev would occasionally chat with Enoch about Jianghu matters, like killing and arson in the Wilderness.

At those moments, Enoch felt quite extraordinary. Although these Thugs had lost the protection of civilization, they were still alive, some even living a carefree life—they were strong.

To be able to chat with such formidable individuals made him feel a cut above the other town residents.

In the presence of Lev, he truly did not dare to show any disrespect.

"Mr. Lev, what brings you to the city this time?" Enoch struggled to adjust the parameters of his voice box, trying to sound more obedient: "Didn't we just play at the service station a while ago? Didn't I see you there and greet you?"

"Oh, dear brother Enoch, if you say that, it would make people think that I come to the city just for the services," Lev said, tapping his forehead. "Our boss can also check memories, you know. You're not trying to get me in trouble, are you?"

"I... I..." Enoch felt his clutch opening and closing abnormally, he was very uneasy.

If it weren't for his acquaintance with Lev, he might have been scared into an error by now.

"Don't be like that, friend," Lev said warmly, removing his suction cup and patting Enoch's hood: "Talking to someone like me who has lost civilization's protection won't hurt you. Don't be afraid."

"Losing protection" is merely "losing protection." Human citizens have no duty to kill these Thugs, nor are they obligated to stay away from them. How you treat them is your own choice—it's really "whatever you want," you can kill them, deceive them out of their personal finances without any negative consequences, it's okay to do business with them, and befriending them is allowed too.

Some Thugs, confident in their own abilities, come to the city. They indeed face various kinds of attacks. But those who want to kill them have to consider the "cost."

Thugs come to the city to shop, to repair, and to enjoy services.

Of course, they also come to gather information.

These Thugs have some rules to follow as well. For instance, they cannot easily attack settlements protected by the Lord. They are only alive because the Lord and other Martial Artists reckon that their crimes are not grave enough, and that the cost of executing them would be too high.

But once they overstep certain boundaries and let the Lord feel that "they should be killed," then these Thugs are finished.

Sometimes they attack individuals in the Wilderness and take care to conceal their presence. They would never attack a protected settlement.

But when a settlement loses the protection of civilization... heh.

"Brother Enoch, I just heard something, something quite interesting," Lev chuckled: "I remember, you're from Recycling Station Town, right?"