Players Invade Cyberpunk

Cops usually don't want to make a big scene because of their profession. They act less impulsively than others.

"Alright, seeing you in this suit, you seem like a dignified person. Why fuss with these ordinary folks? They just lost their home and family. At least in business dealings, when the deal doesn't go through, there's still courtesy. Why make it so ugly? Just give them some settlement money and be done with it."

"Settlement money, haha."

Seeing the opponent seemingly trying to talk reason and empathy with him, Charles felt less afraid inside.

Moreover, everyone worldwide knows what happens when you offend Huang Ban. It's only a matter of time before these people are cleaned up. What's there to be afraid of?

"Fine, if you're unhappy, you can sue me. I have a whole team of professional lawyers ready to play with you."

"Just think it through before you act; do you have the money to keep up with me? Don't end up getting killed on the street before the trial even begins."

His voice and demeanor were extremely arrogant, making the people around clench their teeth, fists grinding.

But in Night City, someone willing to go through legal channels instead of resorting to violence is already a very merciful act.

Of course, essentially there's no difference.

One is dying now, the other dragged to death.

Police, referees, judges, they are all his people. What can be used to fight him?

Seeing the cop speechless, Charles felt victorious, turned to return to his car, but felt a chill on his neck, as if splashed by some liquid.

He touched it, pale liquid, smelled it, a faint sweet scent.

It's milk tea.

"You..."

The surrounding bodyguards immediately shielded their boss, Charles was about to get angry but saw the cop with a straw in his mouth, smiling, apologizing to him.

"Sorry, sorry, it just sprayed out, hey, take care."

Charles wanted to get angry, but recalling the behavior of this group of lunatics that night, he knew he couldn't clash here, only suppress his anger, deal with it later.

Pop.

A sago pearl accurately hit Charles' forehead, for a cop with Sianweistan, it was too easy.

No bodyguard would expect someone to use Sianweistan for such silly things.

Seeing the boss being attacked, the bodyguards even pulled out their guns, ready to turn him into a sieve.

The surrounding people were frightened and scattered, none willing to stand by the cop who stood up for them.

"Stop!"

Charles held back the bodyguards. Now many in Night City recognized these mercenaries were like a hornet's nest, poke one, and a swarm comes out.

Plus, their fierce combat power and fearless nature make killing them pointless, risking oneself instead.

I endure!

I endure!

But surprisingly, the cop wasn't backing down, his face angering him.

Growing up in coffin homes in Kowloon, how many don't have complaints about the wealthy?

"Really can endure, huh? Eat shit, you!"

Directly spilled the rest of the milk tea onto Charles' face.

The milky liquid gave Charles a harsh facial wash, messing up his expensive suit as well.

"You!"

The bodyguards rushed forward, surrounded the cop, pinned his hands next to Charles.

Charles bent down, faced the cop, his face twisted with anger, words squeezed out through clenched teeth.

"Don't think I really don't dare kill you! Just trying to let you live a couple more days, don't push it!"

The cop instantly retorted.

"Then kill me, go ahead kill me."

He saw clearly what this guy feared.

The inherent weakness of the bourgeoisie, once you can truly threaten their core interests and life, they become softer than anyone else.

"If you touch me, I'll immediately commit suicide, then my brothers won't be talking nicely with you here."

The cop glanced at the golden card on Charles' chest, grinned loudly.

"Fred Real Estate, right? I'll remember, go ahead hit me, hit me."

Feeling words weren't enough, the cop directly spat water onto Charles' face.

You bastard!

Even the best upbringing couldn't hold Charles back; he grabbed the cop's collar, poised to punch his face.

But the cold muzzle pressed against Charles' chin.

And the mercenary holding the cop's arm had his fingers neatly cut off by a spring knife.

Other bodyguards' guns were also pointed at the cop's head; even with Sianweistan, it meant certain death.

Yet the cop showed no fear, arrogantly looking at the bodyguards.

"Shoot! You shoot, I can also blast his head off with one shot!"

"Do you have the guts!"

Charles was bluffing.

"I don't believe you'd dare shoot!"

But the dark muzzle was shoved directly into Charles' mouth.

The cop's forehead pressed against Charles', their eyes locked.

"You think I'm bluffing?"

Just a moment of looking, and Charles, who've seen countless people, realized.

This guy would really dare to shoot.

Then thinking about the hard, black gun barrel against his throat, one shot and the Trauma Team couldn't save him.

His knees buckled, tears and snot streaming.

"No...don't shoot..."

"Scared now? Now you know fear? Aren't you doing whatever you want?"