Looking back now, the sergeant was full of emotion when he recalled the first time he heard the name and the comments he made about it:
Once, he thought heâd been played by three idiots.
Now that heâd been saved by these three idiots, didnât that mean he was an even bigger idiot?
The true idiot was himself.
Of course, while he had his internal commentary, in the real world, Burger King really had become like a godfather to him.
"Boss, you want a smoke?"
Lille shook his head.
Itâs no wonder the sergeantâs knees went weak, for the more he understood about that nightâs assault, the more frightened he became.
Letâs put it this way; if in the last moments of that night, someone in the car had opened fire and killed him, the hot-headed fool on stage...
Then what would follow would be his own people, too scared to move, wetting their pants.
Meanwhile, the enemies would have charged for miles, braving hundreds of guns to take the gang leaderâs head amid a thousand troops, and, steadying his scared underlings, walk out grandly.
Stepping over the sergeantâs reputation with the Six Street Gang, theyâd become the new top mercenary.
Perhaps the Six Street Gang wouldnât even exist after that.
Not to mention, if it werenât for those three "bosses", heâd already be dead and rotting in the wilderness.
Of course, there were rumors that these badass mercenaries came to Night City because of the three bosses, but itâs pointless to keep tracing back. The sergeant was still very clear about that in his mind.
He turned and looked at the number of people kneeling on the empty groundâ
These were the followers of the guy with the artillery, the traitor he hadnât managed to catch.
The sergeant waved his hand, shouting to the people upstairs, "Fire!"
Boom!
A barrage of rocket launcher fire smashed them to pieces. You could still hear them whining about something before the explosion, but no one cared about that.
People die as easily as lamps go out, but money transfers come swiftly.
[Transfer: +500000 Euros]
Each of the three took 160,000, while Lille still had 10,000 in hand, the good news being that he was starting to see the end of his debt to V.
"Everybodyâs happy!" The sergeant turned back with a smile on his face, wishing he could wrap his arms around Lille.
Unfortunately, that was not to be.
Lille waved his hand, "Letâs skip the nonsense. This matter is settled. Iâm taking those mercenaries with me.
Lastly, thereâs the matter of Ye Groupâs power supply facilities."
Ye Group was different from the other multinational giants; their main business was all within Night Cityâs three acres of land, and their military reserves werenât too formidable.
But the strong dragon doesnât suppress the local snake, and Ye Group was that local snake.
Strictly speaking, ever since the beginning, Night City was entirely their territory.
The sergeant found a chair to sit down, "Ye Groupâs stock price plummeted yesterday, you should know that.
They sent me a message to find the people, package them, and send them over. But since youâre taking the people, Iâll stay out of it.
Thing is... Ye Group is also a major client of mine, you see..."
Each area has its own power station, and in Night City, the operation of these power stations is largely dependent on the favor of the gangs.
They could, of course, send their own troops to guard, but if the gangs covertly cause trouble or threaten residents, profits could plummet drastically.
So here, they must pay the gangs a sum of money, not too much or too little, so that it doesnât raise costs excessively, at least not beyond what they gain from the increase in profits.
Lille tapped the table, looking at the sergeant, "Have you ever thought about generating your own power?"
The sergeant was taken aback.
Of course, he had never considered itâNight City had been Ye Groupâs concern from the very beginning, who would bother with that?
The Six Street Gang getting a cut for protection from the company was good enough, generating their own power?
Thatâs both troublesome and dangerous: who knows what the desperate company might do to them?
Though they boasted about not fearing companies and killing corporate dogs, killing corporate dogs and the corporation itself were two different things.
Talking big and actual intentions were also different matters: itâs like in the Marvel World; you could curse the Government daily, but if you truly believed you could take it down in your heart...
Most of those people end up in a psychiatric hospital.
And those who might be capable and take action, most are on the path to physical dissolution.
The sergeant leaned back, "Are you trying to get me killed?"
Then it was off the table.
Lille thought for a moment and said, "Adkaduo wants to establish a foothold in Evil Land; theyâll set up a whole solar and wind power system there.
The primary power use of Coronado Farm is domestic electricity; I think a small-scale power supply is no problem."
What Lille didnât say was that, if conditions allowed, they could even get the patents for second-generation ethanol cultivation from biotechnology and set up a thermal power plant.
The sergeantâs back, which had just relaxed, straightened up again.
This was about taking a piece of Ye Groupâs pie.
And after briefly thinking it over, the sergeant realized it wasnât so far-fetched.
Firstly, clean energy doesnât have a high technological barrier, and since Lille could supply large quantities of first-generation prosthetics and other goods, it suggested that Adkaduo had the technological foundation.
The issues to be resolved were the supply chain and construction, which the sergeant didnât understand well, but he knew that Wanderer was an expert in logistics, and many times they survived on orders for infrastructure.
As for the social environment, his Six Street Gang wouldnât dare harass those designated by Lille, and would even have to actively protect them.
He didnât even need to say much; his underlings knew to steer clear and avoid causing trouble.
So maintenance costs might even be lower than those of big corporations.
If you think about it, the only and the biggest problem lies in Evil Land.
To construct an electricity array in Evil Land, you canât avoid military technology, and the Ye Group could completely hire professionals in military technology to blow up the electricity array.
But thatâs not a problem for the sergeant to consider.
So, he gave Lille a thumbs-up, "Buddy, I get it."
"You wonât be short of money," Lille added, "As long as the power station operates smoothly, we can also pay you a sum of money. All you need to do is keep the distribution station safe."
"Fair enough," the sergeant beamed even brighter, "Am I doing this for money? Of course, itâs for mutual benefit...
Right, about the second batch of goods..."
"Talk to Adkaduoâs men about that, Iâm not in charge of this."
Having said that, Lille prepared to stand up and leave.
"Oh, right." The sergeant also rose, picking up a briefcase from the table, "This is a prize for the day.
Although I guess you guys probably arenât short of money, good stuff is always welcome."
Lille nodded with pleasure, taking the briefcase, "Definitely worth a look; weâll be in touch if anything comes up."
Watching Lille leave the room, the sergeant finally let out a long sigh of relief:
Hiring a bunch of mercenaries, of course he could only relax after sending the mercenaries off.
To be honest, in this affair, both he and those traitors had a very awkward issueâ
Their strength was actually insufficient to resist two groups of mercenaries.
Ever since the nuclear bomb explosion, the firepower on the streets of Night City had actually decreased a lot compared to the previous era.
Just like how companies were extremely cautious about rebuilding the network after the old net collapsed, Night City, having been rebuilt multiple times, naturally had the same problem, with regulations becoming much stricter.
So...
"Still need to beef up the armaments..."
The sergeant walked towards the other end of the building, as a soldier quickly emerged from a room on the side of the corridor and approached him.
"Boss, a lot of people died this time."
"The condolence money isnât enough to go around?" the sergeant was surprised, "Really?"
"No, itâs not that, itâs just some senior officers have no next of kin..."
"Are you new here?"
The soldier nodded, and the sergeant slowly said, "No next of kin? Deposit the money into my accountâwith your pea brain, think about it, if they donât have families and theyâre following me, who am I if not their big brother?!"
"Uh... what about the others?"
"The rest, distribute as usual. And since youâre new here, let me warn you, keep a close eye on whoâs handing out the money. Anyone who swallows it will end up just like the guy before, shot... executed by firing squad."
Execution by cannon is really expensive; bullets are much cheaper.
Thinking of this, the sergeant asked again, "Not much money left in the account, right?"
"Not much left," the soldier answered and then paused before adding tentatively, "We learned something from those traitors; they got ordered to produce hallucinogens using ÎČ-acid for the artillery before, we might also..."
"Donât do it," the sergeant shook his head, "Getting into production takes too much effort. How many people here in Saint Domingo know chemistry, you tell me?
Better to just rob it directly. Remember this, we mainly do three types of deals:
Arms trade, armed vehicle rental and modification, and security services. Everything else is trivial. If weâre going to do other things, Iâll talk to you about it personally."
"Got it."
Stepping outside, the sergeant looked up and suddenly noticed a huge crowd of civilians outside the wire gate, lined up in a long queue.
Seeing his bossâs gaze, the soldier immediately explained,
"Boss, theyâre all laid off by the corporations, saying the companies didnât give them severance pay, hoping we can âretrieveâ it for them.
Some are also here for military service registration."
By "retrieve," of course, he meant selling factory and corporate intel, assisting the Six Street Gang with their illicit activities.
The sergeant smiledâ
Good, with this, fresh blood isnât lacking and thereâs a channel for activity.
To be honest, his reluctance to develop the artilleryâs hallucinogen production had other reasons that were embarrassing to admit in front of his men:
Burger King was now also getting into drug production; what if it ended up clashing with them?
Moreover, the big brother seemed not to be fond of these things.
If one were to off themselves in a dumb moment, thatâd be ridiculous.
Best to be sensibleâthey rob corporations, so we rob corporations.
"Go count the guns in the armory... right, whatâs your name?"
"Darius Miles, boss."
"Good, Darius, count the guns and then get ready to help these little lambs get their wages.
With the momentum we have now, I want to be in tomorrow morningâs headlines... at the very least, make one of them:
âMalicious wage recovery! Certain enterprise attacked by unidentified illegal forces, attackers wrote on the wall: give back our hard-earned moneyâ..."
The sergeant stretched lazily in the sunâstill had to find a prosthetics doctor for a checkup.
Just then, he received a message...
[Sender: Jade Green Nightclub]
[Dear Mr. Morton: The Jade Green will soon be hosting a banquet, and as our esteemed VIP customer, you will receive an invitation.]