Players Invade Cyberpunk

Because of the lack of a command system, the rookie players' strategies are chaotic; they're practically each playing independently, gathering with a few newfound companions to form squads, and then charging towards locations occupied by the Chaotic Blade Association.

Players are not suited for the disciplined approach of army commands. Give them a general goal, and sometimes they can achieve surprising results on their own.

Like now, although the players are playing chaotically, warring individually, and recklessly charging everywhere, chaos has its advantages.

Having lost network connection and unable to obtain real-time information on allies, the Chaotic Blade Association is in overall disarray and must acknowledge a shocking fact at this moment.

That is, the number of enemies is several times theirs!

"Damn it, why are those guys here too?"

Clint has managed to lead seven or eight lackeys to retreat to the rear, hoping to find a safe spot to reorganize and then reconnect with the base to see how to deal with the current dire situation.

However, they hit a player squad when going left and another when going right, and even a straight dash toward the base would encounter them.

The feeling for the Chaotic Blade Association is that enemies are everywhere, and they're surrounded by a sense of crisis.

"How many of them are there?"

A member of the Chaotic Blade Association, exhausted from running, with no care for safety, plops down, gasping heavily for air.

"It seems like they're everywhere."

An ally leaning against a steel cage licks his dry lips, continuously scanning the pitch-black night around.

"I estimate there are at least a thousand! We might have already fallen into their encirclement."

"A thousand? Wasn't it said at the beginning that there were at most 200 here? The others were just temporary workers Night City hired."

Clint's face looked like he had eaten dung, constantly rubbing his head, which resembled a bird's nest.

"Must be Huang Ban's idiots being fooled or deliberately sending us here to die. Those corporate dogs are no good."

"Dammit, I told you this bunch of lunatics shouldn't be provoked, but no one listened; look at us now."

He spent these two months in the suburbs of Night City, worried day after day. Afraid of what?

If not those cyberpsychos.

When the Chaotic Blade Association came to reclaim Stone Ridge Mountain, Clint felt unreliable.

Forced into a fight, they initially got an advantage using Huang Ban's equipment. But once the network was disrupted, they all became blind.

"What do we do now? Should we retreat to the base?"

Everyone was waiting for these words. Once someone spoke up, others quickly joined in.

"Yeah, let's retreat."

"No need to go head-to-head with those lunatics. We can regroup, fix the network, and attack later."

The desire to retreat grows.

Realizing continuing the fight might cost them their lives, one by one, they're losing their nerve.

You really can't blame them for being cowardly; they're not like the Adcardo group bonded by family bloodlines. They're here for your reputation.

Living in Evil Land under harsh conditions, they'd rather fight well when things are favorable. Surely, they're not here to die for you.

What's the wage, dude?

Shooting three shots skyward counts as earning their pay.

In this regard, the fighting spirit of Chaotic Blade Association lags far behind the gangs in the city.

At least larger gangs like the Tiger Claw Gang and Sixth Street Gang truly have many loyal followers who dare to fight.

"Run? Where to?"

Clint glances at the lackeys clamoring to retreat.

"Heading down now, they'll take our heads as a warning, forcing others to fight up top."

"Uh... should we go into the city?" A short guy clutching a rifle swallows hard.

"Isn't it said Night City is full of money and women? We have guns; surely we can survive."

Clint immediately saw this guy as a clueless country bumpkin who would end up sold in the market if he went into the city. He chose not to bother with him.

However, regarding the escape plan, everyone unexpectedly agreed. Clint simply took out a pack of cigarettes and distributed them.

"Seems like we can't stay here. I'll look for a chance to take you to Atlanta; I have acquaintances there where we can find something to eat."

So, the Chaotic Blade Association members, lacking military discipline, lit cigarettes in the night, delightfully smoking away.

Completely ignorant of how visible their cigarette sparks were at night.

Even those on watch abandoned their posts to join the group for a smoke.

No choice; they're smoking addictive substances, and once high, who cares?

"This arrogance? They're not taking our Rome elite seriously at all!"

Jing Luo, lying behind a distant rock, was infuriated as he could clearly see the glowing cigarette sparks amid smoke.

He's really angry.

"Quick, report the location to Mongolian Toplaner; I want each of them sent to heaven!"

"Can't do it."

Jing Luo, in ecstatic rage, breaks off communication.

"Mongolian Toplaner reported someone's in the Chaotic Blade Association base preparing a major hit. They're all bringing mortar shells down the mountain, too busy to care about these small fry."

"Damn!"

Jing Luo, unfazed by anger, slowly stands from behind the rock, speaking to two online friends.