Chapter 8 - 2: Black-hearted Enterprise? Pure Bystander, yysy_4
After tinkering in his head for a while with the system interface and logs he had to prepare for the players, Lin Miao finally decided to go out and take a look. Without going out, how could he see the real world through the internet?
Besides, this place is damned peculiar. A monthly rent of 1500 euro would be fine if it covered all, but it only includes accommodation, not meals or drinks. Showers and laundry incur separate charges, which is outrageously expensive.
To be safe, Lin Miao put on a jacket over his bulletproof vest, placed his gun with the safety off on his waist, walked to the door, and took several deep breaths.
The electric door slid open to the right, and a wave of mixed hot air smells—urine, sweat, burning plastic—hit him directly. This aroma was so real, accompanied by the noise, the sound of cursing in various languages, the reprimands of uniformed police pinning people against the doors, the clattering of mechanical components, inexplicable cheers, incessant advertisement slogans.
The building’s design somewhat resembled the cylindrical, spiral-shaped buildings of Hong Kong’s Kowloon Walled City, except the internal space is several times larger. The wide corridor in front of the entrance is spacious enough for four or five people to walk side by side, crowded with people coming and going. Some daredevils sit directly on the rooftop railing, while the open area in the corridor corner serves as a boxing ring surrounded by a crowd cheering on fighters of exaggerated physiques. There are giant figures over two meters tall everywhere, and nearby the ring, small shops and mobile restaurants are lined up. Across the central courtyard, Lin Miao could even see a gun store a few floors below on the opposite side.
Let’s just say the folk customs here in Night City are straightforward and enthusiastic.
But Lin Miao did not linger at the door, pretending not to be much interested in his surroundings and avoiding contact with anyone, heading straight to the nearby construction elevator and taking it with a few young ladies down to the first floor.
Their flamboyant hairstyles and flamboyant outfits gave Lin Miao a nostalgic illusion of returning to a QQ Space from twenty years ago, and their conversation revolved around yesterday’s guest being too rough, almost wrecking an artificial limb—dumb jokes.