Players Invade Cyberpunk

Although the players' unflinching fighting spirit is already well-known in Night City, Albertson was still scared out of his wits when he saw it with his own eyes.

This is no longer just unflinching; it's the kind of madness where you'll drag someone to hell with you, even if you die.

Huang Ban and Militech have fought countless battles, but few have reached this level of insanity, not even Adam Smasher.

It's truly a living nightmare.

And what comes next is even more terrifying.

"Ah..."

The cyber-psychotic, with his eyeballs gouged out and nose bitten off, sprayed white modified blood all over his face, blindly waving his Mantis Blades with one hand, while using the launcher to fire indiscriminately. The Truth Department agent jumped him from behind, stuffing two grenades into his arms, causing a brief stun, before a dozen rapid-fire machine guns turned him into a sieve.

"Turn me over and give me another gun."

The speaker was none other than the bisected Truth Department agent, who, after the cyber-psychotic was blown apart , fell on his back, unable to turn over without legs, relying solely on his arms.

A person can survive for a dozen seconds to a minute or two after being sliced in half; a cyborg can live even longer. However, the intense pain makes it impossible for a normal person to do anything other than scream or faint directly.

A good brother hurriedly stepped forward, helping his boss turn over, then rummaging through his own body.

"Boss, I only have a small handgun, will that do for you?"

"Damn!"

The Truth Department agent didn't care about his intestines and guts all over the place, cursing non-stop.

"If you can't give me a sniper rifle, at least get me an AK, and you give me a handgun that's not even a Desert Eagle."

Despite the complaints, the Truth Department agent obediently accepted the handgun, lying on the ground to fire at the gang members, even taking time to adjust to a comfortable prone position, and playfully tugging at his exposed intestines...

Perhaps he could score a few more points before dying.

"..."

A Tiger Claw member who had been firing right up until then saw this scene and broke out in a cold sweat, wetting his pants.

"How am I supposed to fight this?"

"Ah... a ghost... He's a ghost!!!"

His mind went blank, his face went pale, continuously unleashing sharp screams, throwing his gun on the ground, and fleeing towards the street without looking back. Seeing this, even the gang members at the front were weak-kneed.

Despite still holding a stalemate with the gang having numerical advantage, relying heavily on the cyber-psychotics to hold off two sets of Power Armor, their morale began to plummet like an avalanche.

Realizing that this was a tough nut to crack, and that Huang Ban's offered benefits and secret weapons couldn't quickly subdue the opposition, more and more people began contemplating retreat.

They were a gang, an illegal group gathered for personal benefit.

The danger level demanded high returns to entice key members.

The ringleader's power, territory, and interests were derived from support of their underlings, and they would similarly protect their underlings, unable to send them to die casually, creating a loosely bonded yet necessarily amorphous grey organization.

Such a group can only bully the weak. When met face-to-face with any organized, disciplined, and determined group, if the difference in number and equipment isn't large, a violent conflict would be like an egg hitting a stone.

Any positive portrayal of such a group belongs to finding gold in the dung heap, either fabricated or romanticized.

Gang loyalty?

Brotherhood friendship?

Tragic love?

Bullshit!

Their very existence is an inhumane exploitation and cruel suppression of society's lower layers, only accelerating the degradation of living conditions at the bottom, causing more deaths, dragging more into bottomless abysses, dragging them into gutter brawls.

The so-called protection is nonsense. If gangs didn't exist from the start, there would be no need for you to protect anyone.

They are manifestations of governmental incompetence, disruptors of order.

"Get back! Get back up there!"

A Tiger Claw officer tried to stop those members who were firing while attempting to retreat, but as 2B stabbed through a cyber-psychotic with her dual daggers, lifted it into the air, tearing it into two, she began slaughtering those MT-1's, and morale completely collapsed.

Not only Tiger Claw, but Sixth Street Gang snipers positioned in the back began being pursued by returning players, forcing them to relocate, engaging the opponents in a cat-and-mouse game within the buildings.

Without sniper suppression, the mercenaries responsible for flanking cover burst out from behind cover, joining this ecstatic melee.

Without front-line MT-1 cover, gang members continually fell into the puddles in this rain of bullets, with rounds blowing out car windows and doors, leaving occupants torn to shreds.

Veteran players, teaming up with A2, kept the remaining cyber-psychotics at bay.

The door formed up alongside MT-3 equipped players charging out of the gate, suppressing gang fire, even using their bulletproof modules to provide temporary shields for the players when their ammunition runs dry.

"Woohoo~~~ haha."

A street hap from the Land of Light found the modified electric minigun paired with the fire control system felt just like playing a FPS game, where the enemy units in red highlights roamed through the crosshair, and by pulling the external trigger on his palm, he could fire the gatling gun on his arm as if aligned with his mind.