[Sergeant Morton, remember that son of a bitch with the Will Cannon? You took him out while I dealt with his lackeys, but a few slipped through the cracks.]
[They hired a bunch of mercenaries from somewhere, really tough guys. They ambushed my crew while they were out collecting protection fees, killed over a dozen of my men.]
[And thatâs not all. There are two warehouses on Martin Luther King Avenue and Branton Street. One is mine, the other belongs to some company...]
[Theyâre both under our protection!]
[This business canât go on unless we take out these bastards, theyâre robbing under the Six Street Gangâs banner! Theyâre saying all future protection fees go to them. Does that sound right to you?]
[Iâm here right now, goddammit... Hurry up, Iâm barely holding them off!]
[Address: Dewdrop Inn (Martin Luther King Avenue)]
"So, whatâs this about working for oneself?"
Inside the car, Jack was putting on his gloves, automated arms from the backseat connecting his gear to his prosthetic system.
The car, controlled by Little Octopus, cruised smoothly, while Lille continued fine-tuning the equipment:
In a world reliant on gear, checking equipment before each mission was a good habit.
"Su Petrochemical wants in on Night City, which nobody is keen on. But no one wants a corporate war.
Peizhuo Petrochemical is in the wrong, so they let a bunch of mercenaries inâcorporate wars may be avoided, but gang wars can be fought.
Using violence to impose their rules and gear on the lower tiers of the city means theyâve essentially set up shop.
But donât forget, the Six Street Gang has been through our training; they know our rules. Outsiders? Not so much."
Though he was reluctant to admit it, an organized group had reasons for its birth and growth.
A specific gang might be wiped out, but another would always emerge to fill the niche.
Several Night City gangs had clashed with Lille, their tentacles severed into multiple parts. At this crucial juncture, they were most vulnerable to mercenary assaults.
If one was taken down, Lille would have to reestablish control over themâ
Overall, it would be a costly endeavor, knowing that dealing with the Vortex Gang alone had cost millions of euros.
The Six Street Gang had already toned it down: their members were killed, supply lines cut off, and business shrunk. To grow, they could only reclaim their old banners to deceive new recruits.
V loaded his pistol and summed it up succinctly, "In plain terms, if he heeds our advice, we help him. Itâs that simple."
"Thatâs the logic."
"But I have a question. When you and Rogel were talking inside, why all the mystery?"
"Well..." Lille was just about to answer Vâs question when a loud noise came from the frontâ
Boom!
A huge fireball erupted ahead!
Dewdrop Inn had three floors, a classic L-shaped layout, with an entrance jutting out beside the parking lot.
A giant oil pipeline ran just above the inn...
Right across from it was a petrochemical plant!
The explosion happened at the oil pipeline, caused by a hand grenade hitting it. Thankfully, it only dented the pipeline without breaching it!
The Six Street Gangâs cars were blocking both ends of the road, some on fire, with bodies, blood, and shell casings scattered everywhere.
These gang kids were clearly better equipped than street hoodlums, wearing tactical vests and wielding newer guns.
"Stop! Stop! Damn it!"
The sergeant, hiding behind a barricade, was furious:
The bastards inside were shooting like maniacs!
The petrochemical plant was a subsidiary of Peizhuo Petrochemical; if that pipeline blew up, Peizhuo would financially ruin them!
Moreover, if the plant exploded, it might not even be Peizhuo whoâd handle them: the entire street could be blown away!
The sergeant fumed, his subordinates immediately ceasing fire, following orders like soldiers.
But soldiers wouldnât fight wrapped in a national flag.
A TV, propped by a rod, stuck out from a window. Though the screen was blank, its sound was loud:
"Stop wasting your damn time! Get out of here before I blow that pipe!"
It was like a hostage situation, with threats to kill the "hostage."
But the "hostage" wasnât a person; it was Peizhuo Petrochemicalâs good standing!
"Kind of funny..." V looked at the inn. "Whatâs the plan?"
In his head, Lille received a structural diagram of the Dewdrop Inn from the sergeantâ
This three-story inn had a balcony at the back, providing access to the second floor.
"Remember the Lama Armory mission?"
V and Jack understood instantly.
"You and Jack front assault, while I infiltrate from the rear?"
"This time, change of plans. They shut down the innâs local network, hacking is useless. Push them into the rooms first to avoid trouble with the pipeline."
The car parked by the roadside, roughly seven to eight hundred meters from the battlefield.
Lille got out, his mechanical arm opening one of the cases at his waist. Inside were parts for the raccoon dog sniper rifle, which he began assembling on the driverâs seat.
He himself got out, pulling a black suitcase from an external storage compartment under the carâs edgeâ
But it wasnât just a suitcase.
Pressing a black button on its side, the suitcaseâs four corners slowly unfolded, revealing small turbine devices, with two wings rising at the midsection.
The turbines activated, and the small thing flew into the air.
"What kind of high-tech gear is this... impressive."
Jack watched the drone ascend, feeling it looked familiar.
He activated his scanner, pulling the droneâs basic info from the OCT network:
[Name: Iron Beetle Unmanned Aerial Vehicle]
[Manufacturer: Adkaduo]
[Description: After acquiring "friendly sponsorship" from an officer in Military Technology, the newly established Adkaduo workshop modeled this light drone after the Pterodactyl UAV, with unique software optimizations.
Small in size, it can be carried like a toolbox when folded.]
[Key Components: High-efficiency turbine, specialized graphene battery, 5.7mm smart submachine gun system]
The design was modeled after the Pterodactyl, though parts like turbines, batteries, and firearms were manufactured in Red Shirt Baseâs cross-latitude factory. Software systems like the electronic control units were provided by Lille, and ammunition and weapons were sourced from Chesonâs small workshop.
Both worlds were gradually equipping similar weapons, and Lille was conducting a test.
While the drone was in the air, Lille pulled out another suitcase from the storage boxâinside was Little Flat Head.
The Iron Beetle kept watch outside, while Little Flat Head used its optical stealth system to survey the interior.
The two drones, one in the sky and one on the ground, quickly deployed around the building, and internal personnel information soon fed into Lilleâs mind as a 3D map.
The assault route gradually emerged, Lille uploaded the action route to both, explaining:
"Iâll snipe, you attack from the rear wall. Move fast on the assault..."
Mid-sentence, he suddenly noticed both of them staring at him.
Lille looked puzzled, "Whatâs up?"
"You..." V pointed at the raccoon dog then at Lille, who had already set it up at the window, "A sniper? Should we find someone else for that?"
Lille shook his head, expressionless, "Get in position, donât meddle with command!"
The two vanguards exchanged worried glances towards Lille. V suddenly slapped his forehead:
"I know! Itâs because weâre too good; actually, it doesnât matter if thereâs a sniper or not, you just wanted to handle a gun!"
Lille dismissed her with a disapproving look, and she took off towards the inn, smirking.
Holding the sniper rifle, Lille moved towards a nearby building...
Actually, V was right; sniping wasnât essential for this mission.
He just wanted to test if Little Octopus could replicate Vâs combat skills directly.
The mechanical arm started climbing, and Lille got into position.