Right on Target

"Unbelievable!" The host shouted to cover the noise in the arena, "Our reserve slam king has met a dark horse!"

The referee flew over, knelt down beside Titan, first raised his arm, made a gesture of "end" to the camera, then unplugged Titan's brain connection cable, and said to Titan: "Breathe—"

Tai Tan's painful cries did not stop immediately, the electrical stimulation in his brain made his real body tremble continuously, and the pain in his arm was very strong. This is a requirement of the Colosseum. The players must turn up the pain, because their screams of pain can make the live broadcast crazy.

"Congratulations, Cat Cub!" The host was pouring his fiery enthusiasm on Su Heting, "This is his fourth victory after the competition, and the opponent is Titan!"

The scene was full of voices, and the live barrage was constantly refreshing around Su Heting.

Su Heting's tail left the connection port, and those stimulating signals receded from his head like a tide, leaving only a little energy after the stimulation. He opened his eyes, as if he had just traveled through time and space, and needed a few seconds to adapt to the upside-down real world.

"You win," the manager rushed forward, yelling at Su Heting, "The next game is King Shen!"

"I won," Su Heting looked at Tai Tan from the corner of his eye, and said casually, "Who is King Shen?"

Titan's curled body was blocked by the referee, only his twitching legs could be seen. He had "Giglins" tattooed on one leg and "In and Out Safe" on the other.

"Friends in the audience, I haven't recovered yet," the host exaggeratedly raised his arms, "The ranking of cat cubs is rising!"

The on-site projection suddenly turned into a ranking list of players. The name "Cat Cub" rose rapidly with the sound of salutes, jumping from the 58th place this month to the top 30.

Su Heting had no intention of accepting an interview, so he put himself back into his raincoat and pulled up the zipper for the camera that was about to reach his face.

"What to look at," he said with alert eyes, "I'm very mysterious."

***

Su Heting didn't go home immediately after leaving the arena, but bought a bunch of black market grilled mushrooms at the door.

"Spicy," Su Heting stared at the bunch of mushrooms, "Spicy."

"I'll give you an extra piece of mushroom." The stall owner is over forty years old, an aunt named Jiali. Jiali stuffed mushroom skewers to Su Heting: "You played well tonight. Why didn't I see the hermit?"

Su Heting bit the mushroom and said, "It exploded."

"The live broadcast exploded?"

"Head exploded." Su Heting looked at the remaining mushrooms solemnly, "Can you give me a bunch?"

"No." Jiali glanced at the surveillance cameras at the entrance of the street, and lit a cigarette, "Oh, you two are talking about dangerous topics online, you want to die."

"He started it." Su Heting picked up another skewer, "Next time," he ate slowly, "it needs to be replaced."

Jiali maintained a smoking posture, showing the little girl with her arms above her waist. While the rain was still falling, she exhaled slowly and whispered, "Fuck him..."

Xing Tian wants to change the stitching person to blow up the main **** system, but none of them want to go because they all have brain-computer interfaces. Using electrodes, these brain-computer interfaces not only allow the transformed survivors to adapt to the implants more quickly, but also turn the virtual world into reality, allowing escapist survivors to live in the spiritual utopia of the online world. However, the scope of their current network activities is very limited. In order to prevent them from being invaded or monitored by the main **** system, Xing Tian has always implemented a high-pressure policy against them.

In the light track area covered by the main **** system, splicing people with brain-computer interfaces are like fish on a chopping board. Even if some of them can complete the task alive, it will be difficult to gain Xing Tian's trust and return to the black market.

"Don't they accept splicing people? Shit, while lying to me to fight hard here, and at the same time sending me to the front line. How the **** am I going to fight the system?" Jiali pointed at her remodeled leg, "Kick them with my steel leg?"

The rain was pattering, and Jiali didn't dare to speak loudly. She pressed the fire, pinched the cigarette, and threw it on the ground. The floor was very dirty, and there were poor-quality napkins thrown around. Jiali turned her head and saw the shining patrol drone above the Colosseum, and the colorful night scene in the distance.

"Go to hell," Belle said irritably, "everyone."

Su Heting went home after eating two bunches of mushrooms. He put his hands in his pockets, wishing he could pack himself into the raincoat so that no one could spy on him.

Every time Su Heting passed a street corner, he would use his peripheral vision to scan behind him obliquely. He has become paranoid under this kind of high surveillance, and being watched feels like being surrounded by flies all the time.

The building is playing fashion advertisements, and the holographic projections of the models walk from the heights to the traffic to show off. The holographic advertisements on both sides of the street were played out of order, and the strange-shaped electronic light signs were also crowded together. At night, there are noisy and chaotic audio-visual pollution everywhere.

Su Heting walked through a group of Hanfu lovers wearing retro paper umbrellas. Some of them wore big hats, and the black felt had wonderful reflections.

"I made a wrong bet," the boy in a tunic dress and with a retro long sword made an annoyed voice, "Titan didn't win! I lost everything, let's bet on King Shen..."

"Don't," Su Heting said while passing him, "Bet on cats, you won't lose money."

"Ah?" The other party turned his head, but only saw Su Heting's back, "Hello..."

Su Heting turned out of the crowd, jumped over the steps and entered the old building.

The elevator in this kind of building is very old, and it takes a total of three information identifications from entering to the waiting floor. The biometric technology adopted by Xing Tian is a mystery. In order to manage the splicing people in the new world, facial recognition and retinal recognition have been eliminated. There is also a Xingtian patrol team at the corner of each floor. However, most of the time they are entertaining themselves and maintain a more tolerant attitude towards the splicers who come in and out.

But there are exceptions.

Su Heting came out of the corner and saw three inspectors playing billiards. The pool table occupied the narrow corridor space, and they also set up two holographic beauties to light cigarettes. A group of people blocked the passage, and the video of the match between the Titan and the kitten was playing on the wall.

fuck it.

Su Heting had a bad feeling.

"Playing pool?" An inspector flicked a cigarette into the ashtray at hand, and called out Su Heting's game ID, "Cub."

Su Heting was warned by the monk just today, he doesn't want to cause trouble, but it seems that it will be more troublesome to refuse the other party at this moment. A few drops of rain fell from the brim of his wet hat, making him look a bit embarrassed: "I can only play Chinese black eight."

"I like playing Chinese black eight the most," the inspector smiled at Su Heting, the yellow tartar dazzled his eyes, "Come and play two rounds, congratulate you for winning the game."

They didn't mean to give way to Su Heting. When the other party was talking, someone had already handed Su Heting a club.

Su Heting pushed off his hat and took the club. His black cat ears turned up, the fluff swaying as he ground the cue with chocolate.

"Kickoff," said the inspector, leaning against the edge of the table, casually, "what kind of cat are you?"

They did not regard Su Heting as a "human survivor".

Xing Tian’s high-level executives classify splicing people as a group of tools that look like machines, because the experiments on implants and biochips were first done by the main **** system. The emergence of the brain-computer interface in the new world made Xing Tian panic. They did not want to be domesticated by the main **** system. We have to domesticate the splicing people who are integrated into the system technology first.

"It's just a cat." Su Heting felt that the stimulus signal during the game had not faded from his head. In this targeted atmosphere, he unconsciously shook his ears, "the common one."

The inspector grabbed Su Heting's raincoat, lifted it up, and looked for it: "Where is your tail, is it hidden in your pants?"

Su Heting opened his hand with a cue: "Are you **** curious?"

As soon as Su Heting finished speaking, his head was pressed down on the table by the inspector. He heard the sound of the opponent's hands, but he didn't hide. There are surveillance cameras on both sides of the floor, so he can't do anything. Once it is judged to be an active attack, nearby armed groups will open fire.

"I'm curious what's wrong?" The inspector flicked the cigarette butt, bent down, and yelled at Su Heting, "Fuck you, I lost everything tonight because of you!"

He tore off the multifunctional electric baton equipped on his lower back, and knocked Su Heting to the ground. Another person on the side wrapped his arms around Su Heting's neck, bumped the billiard table, bent over and dragged Su Heting to the public toilet.

The bathroom is not monitored. Su Heting turned his head to keep his throat away from the opponent's force. He hit the opponent's instep with his elbow, took advantage of the moment when the opponent relaxed his arm, grabbed the opponent's neckline, and then dragged the opponent forward to the ground. When he stood up, the inspector hit him in the chest with an electric baton.

"Call the armed group," the inspector pressed the earphone with one hand, and continued to swing at Su Heting with the electric baton with the other, "there is a stitcher—"

Su Heting squatted down and kicked the inspector's knee hard from the side while avoiding the electric baton. The inspector suffered severe knee pain and fell to his knees on one leg. Su Heting grabbed his wrist and slammed the electric baton at the ear where he was wearing the communicator.

The inspector let out a scream, bleeding profusely.

Su Heting didn't speak, straightened up and raised his legs, kicking the inspector to the edge of the pool. He turned on the faucet, and the water "swished" over the inspector's head.

"Fuck...you..." The inspector's words were broken by the water, he choked up, grabbed the edge with both hands, and wanted to raise his head.

"Why don't you **** bet on me to win?" Su Heting raised his hand and wiped his forehead, in a terrible mood. He continued to step on the inspector's back: "You deserve to lose everything!"

The inspector choked in his throat and made a "goo" sound.

【kill him! kill him! 】

The barrage during the game was still in front of his eyes, Su Heting suspected that he heard the audience shouting during the game, the remaining excitement in his brain shot up his spine, and his tail wagged with excitement. The strength of his footsteps continued to increase, almost stepping the inspector's upper body into the pool.

"Warning," the life monitor on the inspector issued an alarm, "Warning!"

The glass inside the public toilet suddenly shattered. The monk was fully armed, rolled to the ground, and shot at Su Heting.

Su Heting's increased nerve reflex speed once again showed his advantage. His pair of cat ears processed sound information far faster than ordinary people, and the moment the monk shot, he rolled away with his head in his arms.

The bullet hit the wall, and the tiles exploded with a bang.

"Squat down!" The monk, wearing a gas mask, pointed his gun at Su Heting and yelled violently, "Otherwise I'll **** kill you immediately!"