NovelSearch Chapter 503 321: Boss
Chapter 503 321: Boss
Screwdriver ran out halfway through the job, staring wide-eyed to confirm that it was John getting out of the car."You're not dead!?"
"Yes, yes, I'm alive, everyone has to ask once." John left the driver's seat and hugged Screwdriver shoulder to shoulder. "Spare me, it's a long story, we'll open a beer and talk about it slowly sometime."
"Fack, I really can't believe it."
Screwdriver still stared at him in disbelief. "Nando and Alonna are at the farm, I have to tell them immediately that you're not dead, they need to know."
"I'm here to pick up Gerry and Maya, are they in the camp?"
"Zone C, where Talia used to live, you'll find them there."
Screwdriver patted John's shoulder and his eyes lingered on the brand-new Silver Rider for a moment before turning to make a call.
[Mission Objective Updated]
[Find Gerry and Maya. (Not Achieved)]
[Find Gaf. (Optional)]
The Wanderer Camp is well-organized.
Different sizes of campers and metal shacks were stacked together, divided into repair stations, storage rooms, parking lots, residential areas, task deployment zones, and children's activity areas by function.
As John walked through the camp, many people were looking at him.
Most were new faces.
The unfamiliar sound wave of Silver Rider 577 had already notified the camp, and with announcements from Screwdriver and the sentries, most Wanderers knew someone had come in, but few really knew him or even greeted him.
John stood in front of the camper and called out.
"Gerry!"
"Who?"
The camper window was rolled up.
Gerry frowned and looked out, then his eyes widened instantly, and he disappeared from the window, quickly and heavily striding out to the door, staring at John!
"Wow, OMG!"
Gerry gasped for breath, stepped forward, and hugged John.
He was a bit thinner than four months ago, his eye wrinkles deeper, his hair shaved rough and short, with a patch of newly healed skin in the balding spot.
"Boss, you're alive, you're still alive..."
When Gerry repeated it for the second time, his voice was trembling, as if he was unearthing a hope he had already buried in the grave.
Maya also rushed over.
She didn't hurry to speak, her eyes constantly observing John, finally covering her mouth with both hands, not crying, just taking a deep breath.
"Boss."
Maya's voice was very light, and her emotions were more stable.
As a former agent, she could better accept someone suddenly dying or coming back to life.
John finally got inside their camper.
It was warmer than outside, with a second-hand mini heater in the corner, two folding beds, a set of rusty metal chairs, and from the kitchen at the entrance to the bathroom at the back, it only took five steps to cover the whole place.
"...I was severely injured, treatment took some time, I just got back to the city last night."
John briefly explained.
Gerry didn't ask for more details.
Compared to the experiences four months ago, the fact that the restaurant owner wasn't dead was the most important thing.
Maya remained silent.
She was sharper, not asking why he was out of touch, just glancing at John's blank account information and knowing it was complicated.
John spoke first.
"I went back to the restaurant."
"We tried our best," Gerry shook his head. "The gangs fought fiercely, the streets were battling every night, old customers didn't dare to come back. Until one day, the kitchen was blown up, we ran out with people..."
Gerry and Maya didn't complain.
They talked very briefly about the hardest parts.
A restaurant built on the balance of force, losing contact with the owner meant a collapse of credibility, surviving was good enough.
"Are you living here?"
John looked around.
Gerry and Maya had children.
The camper didn't even have enough beds to share.
John had left a lot of money for the restaurant.
That delivery [Potsdam-U70] transport vehicle was also expensive.
"Before things happened, we had just paid the bill for Radiant Dust Farm, not much left in the account, but we did drive the vehicle out, a few guns, some odds and ends... but everyone was injured, medical costs were huge."
Gerry described it in a reporting tone.
He was the type of man who could handle pressure, seeing John, he didn't complain or lament, just made the situation clear to the boss, then discussed how to get by.
"How did you get to the camp?"
John asked again.
He actually wanted to say — did the Wanderers offer help?
Maya understood, she replied for her husband.
As gang wars rolled through, it was every man for himself.
Radiant Dust Farm and the Wanderers were busy with business in the city, also dealing with increasingly intense situations, if John was proactive with Nando it would be fine, but—official news and black market reports said he was dead!
Logically speaking:
Farmers, Bone Shards, Eastern People, all had reasons to seize the restaurant.
Gerry and Maya fled in haste, nowhere to go, eventually finding Nando for shelter.
Nando didn't make it difficult for them, accommodating them with John's face, even though they were wounded.
But the Wanderers had their own rules.
To get protection, one had to contribute to the family.
John's relationship with the camp was his own affair, his recognition didn't mean his employees were too, nobody could live freeload in Damascus.
Gerry cooked for the camp, managing for over a hundred people.
He was popular in the kitchen, Nando praised him, and the food supplies were much more abundant than when they first arrived.
Maya's arrangement was different.
She wasn't placed on housekeeping duties.
Nando was a keen person, he saw Maya wasn't an ordinary restaurant staff, nor just a quiet wife, he assigned her to external reconnaissance in the first week, partnering with Alonna, solving a few problems.
"Does he know your background?"
John asked Maya.
"Partially." Maya said. "He checked, I also explained."
John nodded, no more questions.
Gerry's children mixed in with the camp kids.
The Wanderers had their own education system, unlike the city academy, more focused on practical things, repairing cars, navigation, first aid, wilderness survival, construction work, and negotiation with all types of people.
"The kids adapted faster than me."
Gerry scratched his head, laughed a few times.
John smiled too, then asked, "What about Gaf?"
Gerry and Maya exchanged a look.
"She's doing odd jobs."
Gaf was a stowaway, worked temporary gigs with Gerry's street stall, later helped at the restaurant.
The streets grew more dangerous, yet she still came to work.
The explosion happened in the back kitchen.
Gaf was standing at the car-order window at the time.
"She lost a prosthetic leg, to survive, she had to amputate her original left leg too," Gerry gestured on his own body. "Burns covering from her navel to her back."
He couldn't help but sigh.
"This kid is hardworking, diligent, just unlucky."
They dragged Gaf out of the restaurant and paid for treatment, but escape resources and mercenary income couldn't compare, fixing broken things and picking only good stuff like John did was impossible, they just scraped by.
"Take me to see her."
John offered.
Gerry looked at Maya, secretly relieved.
Gaf was a temporary worker, a stowaway without a background, saving her was already doing their utmost, there was no obligation to care for her continued life, nor the right to ask John to rehire someone who struggled to walk.
But Gerry and Maya understood John—offering himself meant he was willing to help.
At the same time.
They were also happy.
The John who returned was still the John they knew.