["United and prosperous, patriotic pioneers" Saint Domingo community network reminds you,]
[Worried about shootings and explosions? Struggling about tomorrow’s job?]
[Put aside those troubling thoughts, and co for a thrilling shooting competition!]
[Join the "Persevere to Strength Shooting Contest" on Woodhaven Street now, win prizes and exquisite weapons!]
[Free food (one serving per person) will be provided on-site, and company bosses will be recruiting with attractive benefits.]
[To register, please contact the "United and prosperous, patriotic pioneers" community website, join us, and realize the Arican dream together.]
David suddenly flipped up from his bed, quickly rummaging through his ssy bed looking for sothing.
While searching, he shouted, "Mom! Where’s the clothes I bought yesterday!"
Gloria, who was cleaning, stopped and put her hands on her hips indignantly, "Every ti you can’t find sothing, you just holler for mom."
"But you’re the one who organizes the room every day!"
"That’s because you don’t organize it yourself—" Gloria said as she walked in and took a look around, then magically pulled out that jacket from the wardrobe David had just rifled through, "Isn’t it right here?"
David showed respect to his mom and continued searching for the next thing he needed to go out.
Gloria looked at him and thought about the ssage she just received:
Sure enough, as a Saint Domingo resident, she also received that ssage.
"Are you going out? To join the shooting competition?"
David scratched his head, "Gotta find sothing to do, right? The notice said there are also company bosses recruiting."
Gloria sighed, placing her hands on his shoulders—
This kid seed to have grown taller again.
"I know you do so dangerous work outside and admire those people, but all those things are very dangerous. You’re doing quite well already."
David shyly scratched his cheek.
Since dropping out, with various small and large gigs, his total earnings had already surpassed a hundred thousand bucks.
But most of that money was used to upgrade his prosthetics and learn firearm modifications. The amount that reached his mom’s hands might have been just over ten thousand.
For Gloria, once her son dropped out of Arasaka Academy, those legendary corporate benefits beca distant. Now she had to view her son by the average standard of Saint Domingo.
Ten thousand bucks might be nothing for corporate folks, but for poor folks in Saint Domingo, it’s quite so money.
It’s also this sum that allowed them to rent a two-room apartnt back in the Skyscraper, much more spacious.
But David knew that compared to the money he threw into various other things, it was indeed not much.
"Mom, I won’t do anything dangerous, just checking if there’s any recruitnt for technicians."
When saying this, David felt guilty.
Unlike his mom, who might have only contacted so shady doctors through her work in the corpse team, never even seeing a Scavenger,
Most people had only seen gang mbers who were idle punks on the streets, the lowest tier.
Well, David was different; he’s seen the true mbers of those gangs, real cold-blooded killers. Honestly, he now found these people more dangerous than many cyberpsychos.
A cyberpsycho might kill a dozen people before being taken down by the Terrorist Mobile Team.
But a full-scale internal war by the Vortex Gang almost blew up the Watson District.
Gloria closed her eyes, thought for a mont, and then retracted her hands, putting them on her hips, saying sternly, "Then I’ll go with you."
"Fine..."
[V: David kid, round up your n, got a job for you, working with Six Street Gang.]
[V: Bring your gear, a bit dangerous—but there’ll be food and drinks first.]
David imdiately changed his tone, speaking sternly to his mom, "No, mom, Six Street Gang people are over there, you can’t go."
"How do you know..."
"Don’t ask, mom, you can’t go."
David said, then walked into the storage room, taking out his gun and gear.
He had neither the money nor the confidence to implant a lot of Subdermal Armor, so he could only add so external armor on the skin’s surface under his clothes in the old-fashioned way.
While organizing his equipnt, he anxiously reminded Gloria, "For the next few days, don’t go out, don’t go to Woodhaven Street."
Gloria stood still, watching her son organize these things, skillfully loading bullets...
She wasn’t stupid; she knew David was working with that man who saved them.
These days, the changes in her son were quite unexpected for her.
She didn’t know what to say, silently agreeing, watching David leave the house, then standing by the window watching him leave the building, draped in that jacket, heading into Mackinaw.
Her mind went blank; she didn’t know how to feel about her son’s changes.
All her thoughts naturally focused on the graffiti on the back of David’s new jacket:
A hamburger with a bloodied mouth wide open.
Gloria sighed; she knew what it was: the latest urban myth trending in Night City.
Young people loved it.
...
"What a stupid piece of graffiti." V was blunt about his subordinate’s taste, "Why does everyone paint stuff like this on their clothes and cars?"
Jack in the back seat silently nodded, "Co on, don’t you know why?"
"Yeah." V nodded in agreent, "It’s all Lille’s fault, can’t even co up with a proper na."
"Honestly...I think this graffiti has so style."
Now they were sitting in the Mackinaw, with the car parked on Woodhaven Street.
This place was poor like a construction site; so houses where residents lived didn’t even have roofs, simply decorated by themselves.
On either side of the street, randomly piled garbage burned fiercely, black smoke choking their noses.
Jack frowned, fanning the air in front of his nose, "Feels worse than the rat’s nests in Haywood."
V sniffed, "The rat’s nests in Haywood have no air circulation, it’s a toss-up."
Uneven flat-roofed houses, local residents used tal sheets to build "sky bridges" between them.
And on these rooftops, it was where the Six Street Gang held most of their activities.
Though this place was poor and stinky, it was one of Six Street Gang’s favorite gathering spots, firstly because it was remote; beside the Scenic Area, you could occasionally see NCPD and Valentino, but here, it was completely ruled by gangs.
Secondly, this place had "comrcial facilities"; besides a few bars, there was the Lama Armory and a low-end prosthetics doctor’s clinic, although their service and equipnt were bad, it was cheap.
From a geographical perspective, although there were mainly one or two-story bungalows here, it was generally higher than other places, a high point in the surrounding area.
If soone wanted to snipe from a high place here, it could only be done from the Peizhuo Petrochemical Dam. But there were hardly any hiding spots there.
If they sniped from up there, they would face the Adkaduo roaming around, and in the Evil Land, an excellent vehicle was more important than excellent prosthetics.
If they chose to attack from the lower terrain...
That would bring the confrontation to a direct clash.
From a transportation perspective, the entire road network would be controlled by Lille, with all vehicles monitored by ctOS’s intelligent threat detection algorithm.
From a signal perspective, three military-grade electronic eavesdropping devices were deployed in key areas to monitor any abnormal communications.
In terms of visual identification, a total of 16 Iron Beetle Unmanned Aerial Vehicles would patrol possible shooting locations with the sergeant’s movents on that day.
This information coordination system was already of military-grade arrangent unless they also had military-grade support—
But they were just a bunch of rcenaries.
The feat of taking the enemy commander in the midst of ten thousand troops had always been praised as a heroic endeavor in any era, not sothing everyone could achieve.
The Mackinaw parked by the street, watching Six Street Gang mbers setting up food and beer. V turned off the engine and got out.
"Let’s go, see how this event goes."
Reviews
All reviews (0)