Chapter 870 - 149 Puzzle (Additional Update)

Cyberpsychosis is considered an extension of psychosis, and the societal consensus is that it is a complex symptom, and all the consequences of the disease cannot be attributed to the patient.

The European Union, publicly declaring itself as the servant of its citizens, of course, also set up exemption clauses for cyberpsychosis, and even allocated healthcare funding to research and prevent this disease...

But obviously, this money has not achieved the expected results—at least Elliot now believes it definitely has not.

As for where the money went?

[Johnny: Where did the money go? It seems this riddle is not only applicable in Night City but also in the European Union.]

[Johnny: It’s like there’s a riddler in society, repeating and emphasizing this riddle with blood on the walls every day until the grant recipients answer this question...]

[Johnny: Unfortunately, clever civil servants can never answer this question.]

John’s home is located in a seemingly decent workers’ apartment, compared to the house Elliot lives in at Foxstone, this house does not have completely sunless rooms, with a light well in the middle and rooms built around all sides of the building, at least having one window each.

Of course, the rent is undoubtedly much higher.

Elliot once thought this was a meaningless luxurious indulgence—it was better to save money to avoid falling into a debt crisis than to indulge in such luxuries.

But John has a wife and children, and he clearly thinks it’s worth it:

From the documents returned by Network Supervision, Elliot can retrieve what motivates this man to get up every day:

After getting up, he looks to his side—

His wife is sleeping peacefully beside him, and his son is talking in his sleep on a small bed added at the bedside. Although he’s not as talented, clever, or good-looking as those noble children who are proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, in his eyes, this is the meaning of his work.

He doesn’t know if his son has talent, but he believes his own confident and hopeful attitude towards the future will surely teach his son resilience and how to face this world...

Meanwhile, before the son learns these things, he and his wife will always be his safe harbor, so he has to work hard:

Because a safe harbor costs money.

This one-bedroom apartment doesn’t have much, and obviously, the family does not live extravagantly, at least not to the extent of John spoiling his son with a lot of stuff.

On the wall are his son’s masterpieces drawn with homemade chalk, a tidy room indicating that the couple’s education for their child starts with themselves, and a loving life is also the starting point of love...

Bang!

A worker carrying a power drill came out of the door, almost bumping into Elliot, looking at him in confusion:

"This guy..."

The worker glanced at the newcomer: although Elliot was dressed well, the worker could tell from his obese figure that he wasn’t someone significant.

But Sevens, standing nearby, was different, just two words—leader.

The leader was followed by two media people.

"Leader? Are you looking for me?"

Elliot scratched his head and looked at the door number: "Isn’t the Owen family living here?"

"Owen?" the worker thought for a while, "I’m not Owen, are you talking about the woman who lived here before—no, she was alone, how could it be a family?"

"Where did she go?"

"Don’t know." The worker shook his head, "How would I know, I only saw her when looking at the house, quite scary, reportedly lost her job because her husband committed murder and got thrown out."

Thrown out, meaning thrown out of the European Barrier, outside the "civilized society," becoming savage refugees.

If they didn’t leave the slaughter zone, they would become hunted animals—a lot of refugees thrown out would refuse to give up, approaching the European Barrier, eventually being killed in the slaughter zone.

"If she hadn’t been expelled, I wouldn’t have been able to rent this house, and if it weren’t for yesterday’s parade, I might have been fired!"

The worker’s joy became more and more evident as he spoke, with a smile spreading on his face, but as he laughed, he suddenly realized:

The two men in front of him seemed somewhat like the special committee members in the news...

He raised his finger, staring at Sevens, with an increasingly obvious smile, finally turning into a broad grin: "You’re Mr. Strange!

Oh my, thank you so much, if it weren’t for you, it might have been me thrown out!

I must thank you..."

Sevens returned the smile: "It’s what our committee ought to do, it’s getting late today, I must leave, enjoy your time in the European Union, the citizen servants are at your service anytime."

With that, he turned and left, leaving the bewildered worker: just took a glance and left?

Phantom, watching this scene, was slightly startled: this little civil servant’s smile disappeared as soon as he turned around, cold as if the worker had offended him.

Elliot didn’t know what to say to this worker either, shrugged and turned to walk towards Phantom and Iron Hand:

"Where is he?"

Phantom shook his head: "Don’t know, acts as if someone owes him millions, what’s his craze? Shouldn’t he be promoting his achievements on occasions like this?"

"Uh... then let’s go, I’ll ask him when we get back..."

Elliot couldn’t figure it out either.

Lille originally intended for him to see the positive impact of this event: that the family of a murderer got cleared of injustice, only the people were gone.

A muddled Elliot had only taken two steps before bumping into Phantom, raising his head to find the latter glaring at him:

"Brother, are you sick too?"

But soon, Lille reminded:

[Lille: She bumped into you, slipped a note into your pocket, if I’m not mistaken, it was picked up from the ground just now, should be someone throwing it to him.]

[Lille: Unfold the note, throw it in a place with glass, and I’ll take a look.]

Elliot nonchalantly walked into the elevator, where the TV was broadcasting yesterday’s rally, watching it while unfolding the note in his pocket.

As the elevator descended to the bottom, coincidentally the TV switched to a black screen, he dropped the note.

Through the screen reflection, Lille clearly captured the text above—

The handwriting was crooked, but the message was straightforward:

[Owen committed suicide, Bruges Police Station handled the body the same day, her son hasn’t been home for a long time.]

Elliot’s mind suddenly became even more hollow—

So in the end, what was their meaning?

Two images flashed through his mind: one was a warm little home of a family of three, with chalk drawings of the family of three on the wall.

The child’s drawing skills were a bit strange, with the parents’ faces being quite accurate, but for himself, he only drew one eye, and half a nose, unclear if it got accidentally erased during spring cleaning.

The other image was the room seen over the worker’s shoulder:

No traces of a family of three living there, only countless wine bottles and messy paper balls, somewhat resembling a room Elliot once lived in.

Johnny and Lille, one squatting on the ground, the other standing beside the paper note.

[Johnny: It seems justice for this family came a bit too late, should’ve shot those bastards.]

[Lille: ...I feel something’s not right, a lot of details are missing from the Network Supervision report, mainly about his son...]

Firstly, both parents were in Bruges, why would they let a 9-year-old child travel to Berlin?

Secondly, a man who loves his child so much has no records of communicating with his son since late July...

[Johnny: What do you think happened?]

[Lille: Too little information, only Network Supervision knows the truth.]

[Johnny: Haha, a society monitored 24/7, proclaiming to be designed for citizen safety, but full of unsolvable puzzles for citizens.]

[Johnny: Have you ever checked if the personal social codes of the European Union distinguish real citizens from fake citizens?]

It’s a puzzle, but Lille didn’t have time to continue revealing, they had to keep moving, immediately forward.