No matter what, the taxi business still required honesty. Though the bald AI had been silent the whole way, it did ultimately deliver Johnny Silverhand to the entrance of the Afterlife Nightclub, arriving quite a bit earlier than expected.
The moment the man got out, the car door slammed shut with a bang and sped away. It did not even say it hoped to serve him again next time. It had practically fled for its life.
Su Ming did not mind at all. He actually found it rather amusing.
He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, flicked them open, and set them on his nose, despite the fact that it was nighttime.
Compared with the chaotic scenes they had passed along the way, the streets around the Afterlife Nightclub were relatively peaceful. A certain dark order existed here, perhaps because heavily armed Mercenaries were always coming and going.
Small-time punks without enough clout did not dare look for trouble around here. Otherwise, they might kick an iron plate without knowing it.
After getting out of the car, Johnny Silverhand struck the pose of a rock superstar and swaggered toward the nightclub's main entrance. Everyone at the door and on the street who saw him was stunned, as though they had truly seen a ghost.
Leaving everything else aside, even if Johnny had disappeared rather than died, he should have been over eighty by now. Yet what did he look like now? He still looked like a man in his prime.
That flowing long hair, that upward-tilted chin and gaze that looked at people from beneath his eyes, and that silver arm all proved his identity. Not to mention the special pistol revealed whenever his jacket lifted as he walked. No one could imitate that kind of swagger.
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