Evil Land, a long convoy passed through the border checkpoint.
The leading Bimong Giant Beast opened its signal jamr right after passing through, and after a while, the convoy disappeared into the yellow sand.
Soon, the convoy would see Adkaduo’s new ho in Night City.
The operational wind turbines were densely connected, integrating solar power, a large power distribution station, and a transmission center into the local network.
It wasn’t a luxurious canyon, but as the convoy drove in, they discovered a hidden treasure inside.
Rows of brand-new Mackinaw ard pickups, an array of armories, power armor hangars under assembly...
And well-stocked supply warehouses and smiling clansn.
"Josh: Sol, you’re not kidding... My god..."
"Josh: We risked our lives on the US-xico border, and you guys are living in Heaven!"
Although these words sounded like complaints or curses, the tone was filled with relief.
Sol also smiled.
"Sol: Old geezer, didn’t I already give you Mo Xi?"
"Josh: Oh... right."
Sol parked his car at the outermost area, got out and stood at the entrance—
For no particular reason, he just wanted to see the looks on the faces of these clansn.
Adkaduo wasn’t just these people; the clansn active at the US-xico border had shrunk significantly but still numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
Pan’an, also content, watched the expressions of these clansn standing beside Sol.
Sol leaned in and asked quietly, "What’s the deal with those power armors?"
"New job, you’re going to like it."
"Pan’an: Lille, Evil Land is ready."
...
Saint Domingo, Coronado Farm, nightfall, banners stretched across the streets:
"Community Assistance Center."
People lined up to receive relief from the Six Street Gang, so pushing carts deeper into the warehouse, and others, clutching guns, nervously followed recruitnt officers into the registration room, signing their nas on the Six Street Gang’s network.
Although the power plant in Saint Domingo hadn’t been restored yet, the Six Street Gang maintained good order.
A pickup truck slowly drove down the middle of the road, a sergeant on top shouting:
"Listen up! Folks! There’s a job for you all!
It’s not gunfights, but roadwork, building houses, anything! If you can work, follow !
Oh, and this ti, labor tools and safety gear are provided, no need to take out loans to buy them!"
The people receiving aid looked at each other, and soon a large group followed the pickup toward the warehouse.
After shouting, the sergeant sat back in the passenger seat, looking quite happy, his mouth harder to suppress than a Copperhead Rifle.
"Ah, it’s been a while since I felt this good."
"Boss, this ’Extre tal’ or whatever, how big is it gonna be?"
"How should I know, but it’ll definitely scare the shit out of those corporate dogs."
"Sergeant: Burger King, the people are here, work can start in Saint Domingo."
...
Haywood, Scenic Area, church.
Father finished today’s prayers on the stage; the hall was packed with burly n in colorful clothes, most of them wearing sunglasses, and all visible physical parts covered in dense tattoos. Each had a golden cross engraved with Latin inscriptions.
Outside the church, thugs eagerly awaited, the lights from vehicles turning the basketball court bright as day.
"My brothers and sisters, we gather here not just because we are part of Valentino, but because we are the Guardians of Haywood.
As Ephesians Chapter 6 says: ’Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.’
Put on your armor, take up your weapons, the storm is coming."
The eyes of the people inside the church wavered, while the thugs outside were already excited, their eyes gleaming—
Unlimited racing?
City-wide scale?
This is what real n should do.
After the Father finished speaking, he turned around to look at these varied-faced Valentino bosses.
But he could see, though they were much more composed than the young ones outside...
They were still kids who grew up in Haywood, they loved the spotlight.
"Father: Lille, Valentino is armored."
...
Westbrook, Japan Street.
Westbrook was under a full curfew—
This order did not co from the NCPD but from the Tiger Claw Gang.
The streets were tense, with far fewer people walking around compared to a few days ago.
Curious onlookers gazed out their windows, seeing only a few operational vehicles, with almost no private cars.
"Wuhu!"
A sports car sped down what should have been a jam-packed road, the man inside flushed with excitent, his foot glued to the accelerator, while the woman in the passenger seat was pinned beneath him, making indescribable noises.
The engine roared through Japan Street, the noise irritating everyone...
Ordinary people felt it even more, like rich people were shitting on their heads.
"Haha, I love you guys, Tiger Claws! The rabble should make way..."
The car sped down the street when suddenly, a hunched figure appeared on the sidewalk!
The playboy driving the car smirked evilly, lightly turning the steering wheel...
I told you not to walk around, blocking my way ans you have a death wish!
A blinding light suddenly appeared at the end of the street!
Bang!
The next second, the sports car exploded and flipped!
Screech—
A yellow-green sports car stopped with a long skid mark in front of the burning vehicle.
The man, who had been ecstatic just monts ago, struggled out of the deford doorfra, looking in terror at the feet stepping out of the car.
Tiger Claw Gang outfit.
"Cough cough... Why... you guys... My dad is Arasaka..."
Thud!
A samurai sword thrust into his brainstem.
The people in the buildings on both sides of the street were stunned by this scene—
The Tiger Claw Gang killed the son of so Arasaka high-up?
Maeda retrieved the samurai sword, and only then did two motorcycles catch up.
Honestly, the civilians were shocked, and even more so the gang mbers.
Weren’t they the dogs of Arasaka?
Is this... dog-eat-dog?
"The curfew applies to everyone, no exceptions."
After saying this, he glanced at the terrified little girl on the sidewalk, who was paralyzed with fear...
"Don’t kill ... I just ca out to buy so dicine, my family..."
"Scram, stay off the main road."
After saying this, Maeda signaled his n to continue patrolling, getting back into the sports car himself.
Implenting the curfew across all of Westbrook would take so more ti, but Japan Street was almost complete.
"Maeda: Burger King-san, the curfew in Japan Street is being implented smoothly."
"Su Xi: Mox is also fine."
...
"...The Tiger Claw Gang just killed an Arasaka employee’s son."
"Then he only has himself to bla. I said that anyone appearing on the streets at the designated ti is on their own."
"But the race hasn’t started yet."
"Ms. Ernest Abernathy, you’re mistaken. I never said the rule only applies when the race starts. If that dumb corporate dog wants to avenge his son, he can co to the track on the day."
At the Afterlife nightclub, three people sat in a small room.
Representatives from Arasaka Company, Ernest Abernathy, and Military Technology’s Stott.
After Lille snapped at Ernest Abernathy, Stott looked on with admiration: Yes, that’s right, don’t give Arasaka any face.
"The Japanese love to break rules."
"I didn’t call you here to discuss this, just to inform you. You don’t want the Night City market to be taken over by Europeans, do you?"
Ernest Abernathy’s expression didn’t waver; instead, she smiled: "Interesting, Arasaka has always been watching you, you’re right."
Lille pulled out a tablet and slid it to the middle of the table with his finger: "That’s great. As the two largest arms dealers in Night City, you can’t just watch without taking action, right?
Also, on this matter, don’t trip up. So let’s be honest.
What you can and cannot do, let’s clarify everything in one go. And...
Make sure your employees stay off the main road, bullets don’t have eyes."
"I have no objections, let’s get it done."
As Ernest Abernathy nodded, Stott also extinguished his cigarette.
There wouldn’t be much conflict between the two sides on this matter, so there wasn’t much room for negotiation.
Lille needed them to reach only one agreent:
On the surface, they were to maintain public order, but in reality, they only needed to keep their own territories secure, and the main track would avoid their properties.
This was a stamp of approval, granting him access to WNS and channel 54’s dia resources, the two major corporate dia outlets.
Of course, if they wanted to sponsor anything, Lille would be happy to accept.
Negotiations began, with the small tablet docunting more and more content with each exchange.
"Little Octopus: Boss, the other side is about to fire up, Suez garrison is making moves."
"Lille: I know."
"Unstable Energy Outburst: Two hours"
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