[NCPD Operator: Cyberpsychosis detected in Haywood]
[NCPD Operator: Multiple companies in the Deadwood area report suicide bombings]
[NCPD Operator: Updating Haywood status codes...]
"Breaking news, the group known as âMidnight Deathâ has conducted suicide bombings against citizens. Their primary targets are the owners of small to medium-sized enterprises and some corporate management personnel."
"Analysis shows they are dissatisfied with corporate policies and management, becoming anti-capitalist terrorists incited by agitators."
"This threat is escalating and must be dealt with using a heavy hand."
"Choose Arasaka Corporationâs security services. We offer you meticulous 24-hour security. If the contract fails, we will compensate you with over 100 million euros in insurance payouts..."
"WNS News will continue to bring you updates on this developing security crisis."
The NCPD was busy too. Midnight Deathâs self-detonation was an unexpected turn in the game.
But truth be told, the NCPD only grumbled about it. Smart people knew it was common for employees to hire hitmen to kill their bosses and sabotage companies, especially in small companies.
If you have money to start a company but not to hire security, you deserve to be robbed.
The NCPDâs fate was to hustle around with this kind of thing, and in the end, they didnât even know what they had been busy with.
The NCPD couldnât handle it, and the companies... well, they didnât see it as a problem either. One company, in particular, would be pleased to see thisâ Arasaka Company.
Arasaka sold small-scale security services. Their philosophy was that if you bought their security, youâd receive top-notch protection; if they failed to protect you, they would even compensate you. In this respect, they were the industry leader in services and reputation.
They needed security business, valued security business, and if their operations failed, they would even attack the culprits after compensating the insuranceâ
Thatâs how their corporate war with Military Technology started.
While Military Technology excelled in large-scale military contracts and industrial military, Arasaka was undisputed in private security.
For them, urban chaos wasnât a problem; as long as their clients werenât the ones dying, it could even be beneficial.
[Lark: Didnât those three guys swear there wouldnât be any surprises?]
[Stott: I donât know... but based on my understanding, this might have been within his expectations.]
[Stott: He just gave us a huge advertisement, and knowing his style, heâd extend some benefits to our rivals as well.]
[Lark: You mean heâs dangling a bone on the fishing line to keep two mega-corporations chasing him.]
The communication channel went silent as Stott didnât know how to respond.
Because thatâs exactly what was happening, and the way it was orchestrated was quite detailedâ to some extent, she was essentially an insider...
However, the agent, whose clearance even she couldnât query, didnât dwell on the topic but instead started comparing and integrating data from both sides.
[Lark: Ultra-high-frequency electromagnetic pulses, and they are highly targeted. With this kind of power, itâs hard to believe a human could create it. This level of power could even alter the human brain from a distance.]
[Lark: Honestly... the fact that car is still running is a miracle.]
[Lark: Considering the electromagnetic suspension, electromagnetic locks, and the precision electronic control systems it might have used, it should be on fire.]
[Lark: Our engineers believe the designer was cautious and installed a very comprehensive EMP defense system. However, installing an EMP defense system in such a complex system wouldnât be easy.]
[Lark: The reboot time is also far less than other equipment of the same specifications, and... itâs strange, the electromagnetic suspension should be locked and turned into spring suspension, the drive motor should be damaged...]
[Lark: Itâs rare to see a car running so smoothly under these circumstances... It has to be said, itâs not human.]
[Lark: Active defense bombs, havenât seen this locking system before, but it looks a bit like an unsolved case at the Californian border checkpoint... Kantaoâs technology?]
[Stott: I donât know.]
[Lark: Oh...]
The meaningful tone sent shivers down Stottâs spine; this mysterious agent gave her strong pressure.
However, Lark didnât speak again but silently continued processing the data.
Truth to be told, her conclusions were different from those of this regional PR manager.
But... thatâs fine.
Suddenly, the usually quiet member of the working group spoke.
[Special Operations Chief "Executioner": Prepare defensive systems. If they cross the alert line, open fire.]
From now on, the route of this race would be quite subtleâ
For example, this main road they were running on could directly lead to Company Square.
If Lille didnât choose to turn at the next intersection, or some gang kids rushed ahead, crashing through the supposed safety line...
Then things would change quickly.
On top of the Military Technology Building, the Special Operations Chief stood by the door of a Floating Car, watching the stream of battered vehicles.
In the car, there was also a man in police uniform.
If someone saw this, they would certainly find it strange: why were members of the Terrorist Mobile Team mingling with those from Military Technology?
"How many years has it been since you returned to Night City? Nostalgic?"
The Chief in a sports jacket smiled, "A bit, it does remind me of the times when the company fought with the gangs."
The Chief didnât look like those intimidating chunkheads; on the contrary, she looked disturbingly normal, so normal that you could still see her female features beneath her combat armor.
Unlike the man in the car, who had syringes attached externally, making him look like he was part of the Vortex Gang.
"Itâs still a bit different..." the man in the seat had some different opinions.
The woman didnât answerâ in her view, so far, there wasnât much difference.
If anything, the gangs now had significantly less firepower than they did when she was in Night City.
She could almost imagine what was going to happen: the three big-time troublemakers play with fire, the gangs cross the line, the companies escalate their crackdown on the increasingly brutal gangs, and finally, she leads a team to capture them...
A few more cars wouldnât make much difference, the company had plenty of weapons of mass destruction.
She was thinking that maybe that was why the President sent herâ if Military Technology wanted something, they would just take it.
And... given the current situation, with so many power armors and big guns, occupying advantageous positions staring them down...
Maybe her real opponent wasnât those top gang leaders but the Europeans.
But soon, something surprising happened.
The ragtag steel convoy formed by local gangs startled the Europeans, causing the mercenaries to retreat en masse, with some so frightened that they triggered cyberpsychosis, probably due to some traumatic memory...
Vehicles charged forward, and the mercenaries scattered, some even jumping off the road to hide in city alleys.
But the gang kids remained clustered... clustered, not in an orderly formation.
People in the five major company buildings in Company Square watched this unfold, and to be honest, these desperate "mannequins" did showcase a lot of products, secretly marveling at the power of modern weapons.
But... what could a bunch of ragtag misfits do? Just a group of punks in rusty vehicles.
Everyone in the buildings knew, no matter how intimidating these gangsters looked...
They were just a rabble.
Coming here meant deathâ for the NCPD and the companyâs covertly arranged defense, this wasnât a security incident. Firepower superiority was absolute superiority.
Lille certainly knew that tooâ
Out of nowhere, the legendary Mackinaw suddenly accelerated, charging to the front. Even if the car didnât fire, the roar of its engine and battle-scarred armor captivated everyoneâs attention.
The car continued to accelerate on the highway, deserters fleeing left and right, jumping off the road into urban alleys.
Bullets, engine roars, and the howls of the Valentinos assaulted the soundproof glass of upscale residences like waves. Flaming vehicles and rocket launchers flew aroundâ
Getting closer and closer to Company Square, closer and closer.
The rabble moved closer, making people involuntarily clench their cups as if the fire would indeed breach the defenses.
As long as they crossed the safety line...
The NCPDâs armored units were all blocking the entrance to Company Square. The Terrorist Mobile Teamâs Scorpion-tailed Lion Floating Cars were also ready to attackâ
Adrenaline spikes on both sides were suppressed by hormone-controlled prosthetics. For the former, it was fear; for the latter, excitement.
As soon as they crossed the line, the companies would restart their slaughter and crackdown on the gangs.
Through the car window, Lille saw several Terrorist Mobile Team duty chiefs primed to act, a cruel smile inadvertently creeping onto their faces:
You can turn, but can your people turn?
These hot-headed youngsters only needed one to rush in for them to take actionâ
Lille banged the steering wheel twice, and Da Mai rang out deafeningly, swerving onto the Westbrook road.
Valentinoâs cars followed suit, not a single one left behind. Even these punks hit their horns in sync with Lille.
The noise pierced through the soundproof glass, and the low-frequency vibrations resonated, causing minor tremors even in slightly lower-quality apartments and office buildings.
The company employees watching the show revealed looks of disgust but only thought this was just the rascal antics of these punksâultimately, they would have to take a detour and run.
Yet, Valentinoâs punks didnât feel defeated: they werenât stupid. While heated, once massacred, they would have their spirits doused.
On the contrary, they were more than happy to annoy the companies with these pesky acts.
Both sides felt they had won. The NCPD was relieved, feeling a slight sense of appreciation for the lead Mackinaw. The Terrorist Mobile Team pouted, losing an opportunity to vent.
But Lille, from the start, wasnât focused on the Terrorist Mobile Team, but on those company buildings behind them.
Somebody there was watching him too.
The Special Operations Chief from Military Technology suddenly changed her opinion about these punks:
Not a single one crossed the line?
The commander in the Floating Car stood up: "See, you asked why we, the Terrorist Mobile Team, arenât chasing them... this is why."
The woman nodded slightly: "Not the targets of the Terrorist Mobile Team, but still targets for the New America government."
[Executioner: Update assessment reports.]
The irritating honks reverberated around Company Square, causing company employees hiding indoors to despise it.
However, quite a few secretly developed a unique thought:
If only they could ditch this goddamn job and speed around like these street punks, theyâd have them all running scared.
But they couldnât; they still had to work. If even the Emperor wasnât in a hurry, they as eunuchs could only endure silently.