Cyberpunk: Cross-dimensional Science and Engineering

Chapter 65 - 63 Request for Support (Please Follow~)

Cyberpunk: Cross-dimensional Science and Engineering

Chapter 65 - 63 Request for Support (Please Follow~)

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Chapter 65: Chapter 63 Request for Support (Please Follow~)

"Cheson—fuck, the guy you’re watching is a cyberpsycho! Time to show your hand, who did you take this job for?"

In the clinic, bloodied Lille growled irritably.

"What’s his name?" Cheson asked quickly.

"James Norris, from Taiping State."

"Wow... I got it, I have his info, but you don’t need that now—he’s got Si Anweisitan installed, right? The military-grade kind?"

"Exactly, you got it, and he’s planning to get even stronger. The Six Street Gang wants to turn this cyber nutjob into a human nuclear bomb and toss him into the Scenic Area!"

"That’s right, that’s right..." Cheson could barely contain his excitement, "Listen, Lille, I’ll lay it out—I’m keeping an eye on this for Kantao. They’re offering big bucks for anything related to military-grade Si Anweisitan.

Street intel, blueprints, operational data, even wreckage. You want to hit a big score?

James’s prosthetics must be Si Anweisitan, and they’re military technology experimental models not yet in full use—

Get that stuff, get that stuff! We could both cozy up to Kantao’s big fat leg!

Damn, you’re saying they’re about to operate? Then you better move fast, don’t let the Terrorist Mobile Team get there first..."

Cheson muttered incessantly, as if he were possessed, urging Lille to get to work.

But though Lille’s voice was low and aggressive, his eyes were calm:

"Go to hell—I don’t want to kiss the corporation’s stinking feet. I’ll do the job, but tell Kantao to get ready to bleed money."

"Got it, got it. You guys grab the stuff first, I’ll go smooth things over with Kantao. Move fast, Lille, it’s a chance to strike it rich!"

"Don’t rush." Lille checked the time, "I gave the prosthetics doctor they’re booked with a heavy dose of anesthesia. They’re going to need a long time to prepare, not every prosthetics doctor can install that thing."

The voice of Cheson on the other end of the phone suddenly cooled down, as he realized Lille might not be as anxious as he seemed.

This calmness affected the money-hungry Cheson: "You... I heard the Six Street Gang mobilized half their gangsters to block those guys and still haven’t managed it, though there were casualties."

"Not our people—listen, we’ll do this job, but tell Kantao to send me a military-grade ICE terminal. James has got the same stuff on him."

"Military-grade ICE? That might be tough, you know, the big corporations keep tight control over that stuff..."

"Then there’s no deal, let the monster go wild, or else they can send their own hacker—but I guess they don’t want to get their hands dirty."

"Er... I’ll talk to them. Anything else?"

"Yeah, send over their most advanced Si Anweisitan, otherwise there’s no deal."

There was a pause on the other end, and Cheson’s tone was a bit odd: "Are you sure?"

Kantao’s most advanced Si Anweisitan to date was the Qianti Model 4—an indescribable product.

A spinal prosthetics product nearly at the peak of military technology, yet the behavioral chip was incredibly subpar, creating a Reality Distortion sensation that’s only 10% of the normal state.

The only upside is that, compared to similar products, it affects the user’s mental state minimally and it’s cheap.

However, Qianti had recently launched a Model 5 chip with an impressively titled "Reality Distortion."

Still, the Reality Distortion sensation was only 20% of the normal state.

Kantao’s loyalists believe that it’s not that Qianti can’t make a good Si Anweisitan, the hardware is good enough, it’s just a matter of time to upgrade the driver software.

All that "Qianti fights for the future" talk.

But you have to realize, aside from mercenaries, no one can push Si Anweisitan to its theoretical limit.

Who would spend money to be Qianti’s guinea pig? A self-funded tester? Having inherently inferior performance during a fight?

"I’m certain. I know what you’re thinking. Tell them, the price for the prosthetics operational data is separate."

"Alright, they definitely won’t refuse that—I bet you still want something else."

"Heavy firepower—Defender light machine guns, with bullets, and tungsten nail armor-piercing bullets for a technical sniper rifle."

"You know your stuff, asking for sensitive items—I don’t have light machine guns, but if you want, I can get some from... uh, our old buddy Roshan. MK31, but I don’t know if you’ll be able to use it.

I can’t get my hands on a technical sniper rifle for you, but as for the bullets, I do have some tucked away.

For our relationship’s sake, I’ll let the lot go for thirty grand."

"Then the MK31 it is, deal."

After hanging up, Lille looked toward the street.

Because the Six Street Gang had suddenly surged into Valentino territory, NCPD had issued a warning, and the streets were almost deserted.

The battle had entered a quiet period, but everyone knew this was the calm before the storm.

Shit was about to hit the fan.

The Father sat in the car, thinking the same thing.

The black Chevrolet Thrace stretch car stopped on the side of the road, and a Valentino thug shaped like Jack opened the door, walked to the side of the car, and waved at Lille.

Lille popped an immunosuppressive drug, then got into the Father’s car.

"Lille, we’ve got big trouble now. The Six Street Gang has completely lost its mind. Preaching Seaside has become a battlefield, and the NCPD is also putting on pressure."

The Father spoke calmly, though, in truth, he also found the situation quite tricky.

The feud between the Six Street Gang and the Valentinos had a long history, but their gunfights and confrontations had been relatively restrained.

And this restraint largely came from the Father and the Sergeant mediating from between—not to mention that they were also instigators.

Though the people beneath them were keen to tear the enemy to pieces, and they themselves told their subordinates as much, it didn’t mean they truly wanted to see an all-out bloodbath.

The scale of the current conflict was unprecedented, all because Nolan and James failed to intercept those three in the River Valley District. The chasing Six Street Gang had turned into an entire motorcade.

Then the Valentino Gang unleashed a barrage of gunfire and killed over half of the Six Street Gang—impressive battle results, but it definitely escalated the conflict.

Politicians might start wars, but sometimes, they do not get to decide when they stop.

"Can you tell me what exactly is going on now?"

"The Six Street Gang brought in a cyberpsycho—I’m not exaggerating, that guy could snap at any moment. Here’s a list of his prosthetics."

Lille sent over the data, and it was only then that Father showed a look of grave concern.

"The Six Street Gang also plans to upgrade him with even stronger equipment.

I’m guessing the sergeant intends to let that thing loose in the Scenic Area. If it blows up, well, it’s none of his concern.

However, the Valentino Gang would be screwed—now you understand, this issue concerns them too."

"Recruiting a psycho for gang strife? I do need to have a word with the sergeant about that. But this mess started with you guys."

Lille rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

He took out a prepared canister of neural soothers—knowing Father wouldn’t help him get out of this without a good reason, he’d brought this item just in case.

This was part of the ’big news’ he’d mentioned.

"Saint Domingo is about to experience a large-scale epidemic outbreak. In fact, it’s already showing signs now, γ-rabies, treatable with α-neural soothers.

This canister is for you, and these are the vaccines, twenty doses in total. Market price, thirteen thousand a dose; I’m letting them go for one-fifty thousand Euros to you."

Night City doesn’t have a disease control center—or rather, Night City’s disease control center is also involved in futures and stock trading.

Right now, everyone is mostly aware of an epilepsy outbreak in Saint Domingo, but to actually pin down the epidemic is still somewhat tricky.

If the sergeant could get those items, Lille thought Father could too—or even if he couldn’t, he might mess with the sergeant’s business. Either way, it was useful information.

"This is indeed big news," Father said, his expression unchanged as he picked up the vaccines and examined them for a while. "Alright, young man, I must admit I underestimated you.

Since things have come this far, I have a mission for you.

If the sergeant plans to send that cyberpsycho to the Scenic Area..."

"I can handle it," Lille stated confidently. "We have a personal vendetta with him now. But you can think further ahead, it’s time for this chaos to end."

Father’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

"I like the sound of that... but right now, you have another decision to make. Gustavo Orta’s boys intercepted a Six Street Gang car that seemed to have a death wish.

Just because of the guy in the car, we nearly lost our barricade. The driver had his legs broken, yet still floored the gas pedal, and with only half his palm left, he could still grip the steering wheel.

With that kind of fury, you’d think he was driving a tank.

He said he was looking for me; I guess he’s one of your guys?"

Lille paused. Was it Acido?

"Was he with a woman?"

"Yes, the woman was shot but still breathing—looks like his mother. I have to say, I’m impressed by the kid."

"Hmm... then he’s yours from now on, Father."

...

In the clinic, the atmosphere was tense.

V suddenly spoke while sitting on the chair, "That guy’s a cybernetic monster... Old Wei, I need to get new prosthetics."

"Si Anweisitan, huh..." Old Wei wiped his glasses.

Jack had already been fitted with a brand-new arm.

Gorilla arm, arm prosthetics.

It would be better to say the arm had been completely replaced, with the pinnacle of 21st-century prosthetic technology.

The tonnage-level strength unleashed by synthetic muscle fibers, a hit to the face could send flesh and blood flying like fireworks.

Jack was awake now, though not completely lucid, but he definitely wasn’t going to die.

"Old Wei, I think I need some new prosthetics too, but I’m out of money."

V waved a large hand, "Don’t worry, I have money. Old Wei, start with us first."

"Money?" Old Wei laughed, looking at V, "It seems Lille didn’t tell you—see that canister in the corner?

Biomimetic data collection device, basic equipment for the rich to maintain their DNA, half a million for a set—by the way, this one’s the cheaper version for pets."

"That expensive...why are you telling me this?"

"Lille asked me to put it on his tab first, saying if he can’t pay back, I should come to you for the money—I got a loan to buy these for you."

V’s expression changed slightly, "How much?"

"Half a million, actually including a user manual and a database. For you guys, let’s say a total of five-fifty thousand."

Slap.

As it happened, Lille walked through the door at just this moment.

"How’s Jack doing? Get ready..."

"Lille—"

The moment Lille opened the door, he saw V with a vicious smile, his fingers cracking under the pressure.

"Uh?"

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