Players Invade Cyberpunk

Valerie didn't outright refuse: "You can have as much as you want, as long as you get the job done."

"That's more like it."

Olivia's face changed as quickly as a June sky, suddenly becoming seductive. She picked up a glass from the table, filled it with red wine, and handed it to Valerie.

"Come, have a drink, here's to our pleasant cooperation."

Valerie took the glass and downed it in one gulp.

The faintly sour taste of the wine was mixed with the flavor of iron rust.

It was spiked with blood.

She walked out of the camp and got into the hover car.

The agent who'd been sticking by Valerie's side suddenly spoke up to question her

"The company never mentioned giving this group of Wanderers extra pay; it's not within your jurisdiction."

Valerie side-eyed the Special Operations Division agent, her contemptuous gaze like she was looking at a bothersome fly

"Idiot, I said she could ask for whatever, but did I say the company would actually give it? Or do you think military tech would just sit by and watch this Chaotic Blade Association escape? Do you even realize your whole body is radiating stupidity right now? If you don't know how to give valuable advice, then just shut your mouth, or go back and switch to a liquid feeding system."

"..."

————

The sun in the distant horizon gradually sank into the sea level, darkness once again stained the ocean, waves crashing against the Taiping Continent beaches, dragging the heavy clouds in the sky down into the abyss, suffocating everyone.

"Reportedly, at three o'clock yesterday afternoon, a convoy transporting heavy equipment by Huang Ban Corporation to Salinas was hijacked by unidentified Wanderers, near St. Lucas. Although the Huang Ban convoy troops fought hard to evacuate safely, a large amount of equipment was still seized by the Wanderers, which undoubtedly adds another layer of crisis to the already perilous Evil Land."

"Albertson, Minister of Huang Ban's Special Operations Division, stated that this is a terrorist attack. Huang Ban strongly condemns such shameless actions and will spare no effort to recover them before irremediable mistakes are made...."

Most of the news broadcast in the frigid room was commercial content and advertisements; nothing ever related to the public.

If there was, it was likely about what new taxes needed to be paid, how many people died in the city, or bragging about some company's stock, urging everyone to buy.

Players once tried to calculate Night City's stock based on this information, hoping to make a big profit.

The final outcome can't be described as losing everything, but they almost lost their shorts; luckily, they didn't leverage, or they might have ended up in pubs selling themselves to pay off debts.

Lin Miao wouldn't coddle them; the account funds would truly be deducted into negatives, forcing them to toil to repay.

Night City's stock market wasn't meant for small fry to play; they could cut the power whenever they wanted, sink when they pleased, with a thousand ways to drain your principal.

Experienced cops who've seen too many financial disasters aren't interested in stock trading; they'd rather run their little shop.

Looking at the recently renovated ice house, the Egyptian Beauty marveled, "No wonder it's Taiping Continent; such a small shop only costs 800 Eurorays in monthly rent—makes me want to open one myself."

The hot dog shop owner next door twitched at hearing this

Damn it

He wouldn't mind if someone offered 2000 Eurorays in rent and fifty percent revenue in protection fees; crazy people need to be willing!

Taiping Continent didn't have NCPD, only Netherworld Dog policing Dog Town; other places were teeming with gangs, monopolizing all storefronts. Anyone wanting to run a business had to pay them protection fees and rent, even street vendors had to pay.

Oftentimes, street vendors barely scraped by after paying all sorts of fees, sometimes losing money if unlucky.

But players wouldn't eat this crap.

Collecting protection fees from the cops? You mustn't want to continue living!

In Kowloon, it's always gangs paying cops protection fees, never vice versa!

Three days ago, a cop spotted a store, immediately gathering seven or eight players and storming the gang's base, tying up the gang boss on a chair, letting him experience Kowloon cops' style.

Even in 2024, gangs like Xinyi'an still operated on Kowloon streets, albeit much more low-key than at the end of the last century; they wouldn't dare cross the line. Did they really think cops were like mainland gentlemen?

The gang boss, beaten black and blue, cried out pitifully

"I won't take it; I won't take your money anymore, is that okay? I'll give you that store directly. From tomorrow onward, my people won't come near...."

Damn it, how did he get entangled with these plague gods?

"Not take it?"

The cop showed no smile hearing this, because according to game system rules, both parties must sign a legitimate contract for company investment to take effect; it's not viable to use violence for free offerings—you must pay.

"With what you're doing, you make me seem unreasonable, huh?"

The gang boss thought they were speaking ironically, hurriedly pleading

"Really, I truly don't want your money; whatever you want, I'll give it to you; how much do you need?"

If the beating continued, he would surely die.

The cop held a hammer, motioning Shui Yue to stack a few more newspapers on the gang boss's chest.

With continued pounding, only internal injuries occurred, with the skin barely bruised.

The cop slammed down hard with the hammer; if not for the artificial lung, the gang boss would have almost breathed his last.