Rainy Night, the fourth revival city, "Seven Islands."
On the first cross-sea bridge from Liberty Island District to Harborview District, a silver-gray motorcycle is speeding along.
The rider wore an old gray jacket with a bright yellow vest on top, featuring the striking words "Lightning Husky Express" and a playful dog-head logo.
"Hello, Rider Jason, Lightning Husky little assistant reminds you that there are 30 minutes left before the timeout of this private customized express service, please hurry up to complete the delivery task."
The smart voice system built into the helmet emitted a reminder.
Jason Young subconsciously increased the throttle.
"Rider Jason, you have been speeding, please pay attention to traffic safety and regulate your driving."
"Your sister's..."
Jason cursed under his breath and manually shut down the intelligent voice system in the helmet.
This life cannot be sustained, it must be done immediately! Immediate resignation! Find a new job next month.
"Beep——" A call came through.
Jason Young, I said no, no, no smart voice that would turn off the helmet for two minutes. Someone from the company called to ask about the situation?
It's already eleven o'clock at night. Is there anyone on duty at the Lightning Husky Rider Dispatch Center?
"Hey?" He turned his head towards the phone.
"Hey, Jason?"
Hearing the familiar voice on the phone, Jason Young felt relieved; it turned out to be his shared roommate, Samuel Shaw.
As long as it's not someone from Lightning Husky asking why the helmet is broken...
"How's it going, Sam?"
As soon as he spoke to Samuel Shaw, Jason Young's tone unconsciously became more relaxed.
"Where are you, buddy?" Samuel Shaw's voice sounded a little nervous.
"Dad's running a list outside. If you have anything to say, just let it out."
"A female commissioner from the Iron Dome Security Bureau came to you and said she wouldn't leave until you came back. What have you been up to lately?" Samuel Shaw spoke in a low voice, as if the other party was nearby.
"Seriously, what's this about?"
Jason Young's mind was temporarily blank as he really thought about what he had done recently.
"It won't be because of that speakeasy..."
"What speakeasy?"
Samuel Shaw took a sharp breath, asking casually but finding Jason Young seemingly in some real trouble.
"It's nothing... By the way, is the commissioner's last name Ann?"
"Yeah, right, right, eh? How did you know?" Samuel Shaw was startled on the other end of the phone.
"That's okay. Just let her wait. I'll return after I deliver this order... Right! Don't let her into my room!"
The tone of the second half of Jason Young's sentence suddenly became urgent, so much so that Samuel Shaw almost dropped his phone.
He hung up the phone, looked back anxiously at the young woman sitting on the sofa in the living room, wearing a dark Iron Dome Security Bureau uniform, and barely managed a smile: "Miss Ann, Jason Young said he'll come back after delivering this express. Look....."
"It's okay, I can wait for him."
Next to Miss Ann was a black suitcase with two electronic locks.
Samuel Shaw glanced at the suitcase, wondering if it contained a polygraph or portable torture device.
"It's getting late. Will the lights in the living room affect your rest?" Miss Ann glanced at him.
"No, no, no..."
"Really, that's good."
Although her words were considerate, her expression was so cold that Samuel Shaw didn't dare object.
He quickly returned to his bedroom, carefully closed the door, leaned against it, and prayed for Jason Young for three seconds.
Sneeze——
Jason Young, who was racing on the cross-sea bridge, sneezed and squeezed the accelerator to the max.
The motorcycle's rearview mirror was covered with water droplets, but he could still vaguely see a blue and white motorcycle chasing after him.
The distance between them was about twenty meters, and it was constantly shortening.
The other rider's high-beam light shone on his back, also glaring in his rearview mirror.
Later, the opponent's lights began to switch continuously between high and low beams.
"Darn it." Jason Young was a little annoyed. He wanted to shake the rider behind him, but he couldn't increase his speed any further.
Although this silver-gray motorcycle had been modified from an outdated second-generation model, its performance was comparable to common third-generation models on the market. Coupled with Jason Young's courage, he hadn't yet encountered anyone he couldn't outmaneuver.
But tonight, it seemed he had met his match.
The blue and white motorcycle behind could not only keep up with his top speed but also smoothly narrow the gap, constantly "playing" with him using the headlights.
About twenty seconds later, the rider caught up and appeared beside him.
Jason Young couldn't help but glance sideways at the opponent who had taken him by surprise.
It didn't matter if he hadn't glanced before; this glance suddenly shocked him.
The rearview mirror blurred by water droplets had prevented him from realizing until now that the person chasing him was a field commissioner affiliated with the Iron Dome Security Bureau.
The rider on the blue-and-white motorcycle next door wasn't wearing a motorcycle helmet but the face armor of the police's unibody exoskeleton armor.
The rider's face armor opened to both sides, revealing the fair face of a girl with defined eyebrows and eyes.
In the next second, the girl blurted out words in a serious tone, reaching Jason Young's ears at a speed of 180 miles per hour.