Players Invade Cyberpunk

Kujira

The last remaining aircraft carrier of its kind

Though the armed floating battleships from Military Science and the European Community docked in Cuba can take off and land fighter jets, they can’t be called aircraft carriers; they’re multi-role attack platforms.

Besides the flight deck, the warships are equipped with electromagnetic railguns, missile launch wells, marine rest areas, ground vehicle storage, and a slew of other features.

In contrast, the Kujira not only has conventional fighters but also numerous Huang Ban drones, nuclear missiles, strategic radars, and other advanced instruments, making it more specialized.

Three flight decks layered on top of each other with seven runways, the deck at the center even features electromagnetic acceleration capabilities, its deep and eerie paint job reflective of Huang Ban’s consistent style.

But to be honest, the strategic value of this aircraft carrier may not be as significant as its expensive price suggests, else it wouldn’t be solely produced by Huang Ban.

It is purely the remnants of militarism left from personal grudges in World War II, seeing one’s own aircraft carrier ruthlessly assaulted by the US Military in the Pacific with no means of resistance, and the hard-built Shinano got sunk just 17 hours after leaving.

Oh, I’m so irate!

So, they crafted this creation.

A pure spectacle with little practical use.

It’s even too heavy to remain afloat for long, constantly battling with AI in the sea, moving forward while dealing with bombs along the way, making trips extremely costly.

But sometimes, capital lacks rationality, never mind if Kujira is useful or not, just talk about its grandeur.

Built and making a tour, citizens of various nations naturally feel awe-inspiring, thus boosting Huang Ban’s stock quite a bit, earning some reputation.

So, when Kujira appeared again at Night City Port after a seven-year hiatus, it caused quite a stir.

But it’s just that.

Residents of Night City have become so experienced over the past two years that they’re no longer fazed.

What haven’t we, Night City folks, seen? Just a Huang Ban aircraft carrier.

Compared to happenings in these two years, an aircraft carrier doesn’t make the headlines anymore; it’s only a sudden appearance.

Most of them don’t know why Huang Ban brought over the carrier; maybe the old man has digestion issues, ate too much, and needs to run out for a walk.

Amidst speculations from numerous reporters in the port, an elderly, gaunt man in a kimono, leaning against a cane, gazed at the increasingly approaching city.

"Even after all these years, this city is still so repulsive."

For Huang Ban Sanlang, this is a place of sorrow; his eldest son Huang Banjing was driven to commit harakiri here.

And due to past grievances, Huang Ban Sanlang harbors great hostility towards the United States, so much so that even his granddaughter Huang Ban Meizhi despises seeing it.

Now looking afar, the endless construction sites in the Taiping Continent made Huang Ban Sanlang even more displeased, with a glint in his eye.

"Hmph..."

If he can’t retrieve that chip, then even nuking this city would be a small price to pay.

Until he acquires his younger son’s body, even one as audacious as him wouldn’t dare reveal this technology.

Sooner or later...

The entire world will bow down to the Huang Clan.

Zhuchun Goro standing beside with an umbrella leaned forward and said

"Lord Sanlang, it’s windy here. Please rest inside."

"No need, my body isn’t weak to that extent."

This clone body, though aged, won’t last long; if it breaks, it breaks.

Kujira has already approached the North Shore Watson District Port, the shores crowded with journalists and onlookers.

Standing on the deck dozens of meters high, these people looked like ants, a pleasure of power that made one indulge.

Especially the fear of Huang Ban is what Huang Ban Sanlang longs to see the most.

"Is that Huang Ban Sanlang on the deck?"

"Heavens! This warship is unbelievably large!"

Some reporters, seeing the massive structure, couldn’t help but back away.

This reaction greatly satisfied Huang Ban Sanlang; one day, he would sail this aircraft carrier right over the White House!

?

Suddenly, a discordant scene emerged in the crowd, with a few people not retreating, but curiously observing the withered old man on deck, pointing and commenting.

Huang Ban Sanlang squinted, stared carefully, and froze in an instant.

Zhuchun Goro keenly sensed the change in Huang Ban Sanlang’s emotions.

Slight trembling in his body suggested anger.

Resentment.

And... fear.

With piercing eyes, Huang Ban Sanlang fiercely glared at the figure on the shore.

The person on the shore wore an old-style US military uniform, its fabric unable to conceal the slightly protruding belly, wearing a wide-brimmed military hat, sunglasses, with an unlit corn cob pipe in his mouth.

No mistake about it.

That’s the guy!

In this world, Huang Ban Sanlang rarely hates anyone because they’re not deserving.

Even Donald, the founder of Military Technology, is just so-so in his eyes.

But only this guy!

Douglas MacArthur!

He’s an indelible stain in the history of the Neon People, a mountain on every Neon soul.

More than a hundred years later, the US has undergone drastic changes, few remember MacArthur’s looks.

But Huang Ban Sanlang would remember even if he died.

Huang Ban Sanlang’s fingers gripping the cane turned pale.

Next to MacArthur, another person holding a megaphone shouted loudly at the aircraft carrier.