Players Invade Cyberpunk

"They're busy, so we'll handle it ourselves."

"You two flank from the left, I'll sneak around from the right. With a pincer attack, we can easily take the enemy."

Jing Luo tearfully: "Bro, they've got at least eight people. We're just three. Are you crazy?"

Jing Luo, enraged: "So what if we're three? Sparta had only three hundred people."

Jing Luo, ecstatic: "You're right, but it seems we're about to go offline. This game's admin won't let us renew, what should we do?"

It's already three or four in the morning, which translates to afternoon on the other side. These night shift workers have to log off soon, and the main forces will log in, leaving no room for us.

"..."

Jing Luo tears up

"If it means dying, then let's go, go, go."

In a short while, the three of them circled around the Chaotic Blade Association's stronghold and surrounded them from both sides.

"Freeze! Hands up!"

"Surrender your weapons and you won't be harmed!"

"FBI OPEN THE DOOR!"

But the three couldn't have imagined that before they even made a move, the group in front had already lost their combat strength.

One after another, the Chaotic Blade Association members collapsed to the ground, eyes glazed, staring at the sky. The paper-rolled drugs in their hands were intensely activating their numb nerves, displaying expressions as blissful as could be.

A scene of collective drug ecstasy.

Some even indulged themselves, reaching into their pants to grope around.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Clint didn't know why either; perhaps the previous operation made them too tense, so someone suggested adding some drugs to relax.

How could addicts refuse an offer of drugs, especially when they were planning to flee? They had to have something to bolster their spirits, right?

They always had a hundred ways to persuade themselves: just one puff, just one.

Just like those who constantly chant: This is the last hit, never again.

Tomorrow, quit lust!

DAY0

DAY0

DAY0

Just like that.

Soon lost in the mental stimulation of the drugs, unable to stop.

Different drugs bring different mental stimuli; some make people euphoric, fearless, warrior-like, others increase libido, while some cause limb weakness, sinking into hallucinations...

Bang!

The sharp pain in Clint's face slightly brought him back to his senses, the drug effects beginning to fade, pulling his spirit back to reality.

The psychedelic scenery before him slowly focused into the face of a young man, who was straddling him and slapping his face repeatedly.

"Wake up! Damn, wake up!"

Jing Luo, enraged, his hand sore from hitting, finally managed to bring the guy underneath to his senses.

"Uh..."

Clint's face swelled like a bun, enduring the pain while trying to reach for his gun, only to realize they were all tightly bound.

It's over!

Realizing his predicament, Clint's face turned gray, wishing he could dig a hole and hide.

Damn it, so embarrassing.

The craving was too strong, couldn't hold back; a whole group getting high on the battlefield, disarmed and bound without resistance.

"Get up quickly!"

Jing Luo and the others couldn't stop smiling, this was like spoils of war dropping from the sky.

The heavens truly favor Rome!

Recovering from their cravings, Clint and his team were now like withered eggplants, obediently led away by the trio.

Having no idea what kind of future awaited them.

And they weren't the only ones.

After their assault was thwarted, more and more members of the Chaotic Blade Association were defeated, retreating.

Out of the five or six hundred who went for the night raid, many fled or died, while players continued capturing prisoners, chasing them across the hills.

Two hundred people had the five hundred running in circles.

---

"What? What do you mean collapsed?"

As weak daylight started to spread from afar, everyone's hearts in the Chaotic Blade Association's command center fell into an abyss.

They had new equipment, the advantage in numbers, the surprise advantage, everything seemed in their favor, yet the battlefield collapsed simply due to the network information warfare.

Who were they supposed to complain to?

Everyone in the tent panicked like headless flies.

Ulysses approached the server truck and grabbed the technician, demanding answers: "How's Strak still not back?"

At this moment, they desperately needed a leading figure to stabilize the situation.

The technician was overwhelmed

"The situation is dire, our hackers are nearly wiped out, Strak is trapped in cyberspace, and half of our servers have been invaded by unknown viruses and are out of control, forcing a power shutdown."

It's even optimistic to call it an unknown virus; the servers were practically stamped with another family's name, and the programs inside were a complete mess, rendering them unusable.

Meanwhile, Shui Yue and others within the camp were slowly getting a clearer picture of this temporary base's layout.

The central command room, the temporary ammo depot on the right side edge, the medical area on the left, besides that there were the server room, supply warehouse, fuel depot, and more.

Most were makeshift camps assembled with trucks and tents, lacking defense altogether.

The only defensive measure was a perimeter of simple fences and sandbag defenses.

"Did you get the coordinates?"

Shui Yue transmitted the locations to the artillery players in the channel, even snapped a photo with his artificial eye and sent it over.

It's said that in this era, anyone equipped with an artificial eye is like a mobile surveillance camera.

Mongolian Toplaner: "Got it, how do you plan to bomb it?"

Ever since the Watson District got bombed, Mongolian Toplaner couldn't get enough of these gadgets.