"Seeing is believing... Burger King sells dumb big shots."
Hansen didn’t know with what feelings he read out this na in the important private room at the banquet he had poured his heart into.
After reading it, he even laughed at himself.
Once he finished laughing, he continued the conversation,
"Hehe... When I first joined the army, there was a recruit who had his legs blown off. The dic decided to amputate on the spot, but the kid cried, begging the doc not to saw off his ’bird,’ saying without it, his life would be over."
Can you believe it? In the middle of a battlefield, and he’s still thinking about getting back to his woman.
If those upper-class folks who had spoken with Hansen before saw this scene, they would be utterly surprised:
In their eyes, Hansen was a competent military commander and a charismatic boss—
Charisma also has levels, and spewing filth surely wasn’t charismatic to them.
In this world, before an important eting, people make quick sketches of the other’s personality based on past experiences and information, making useful psychological deductions. These techniques are used to advance conversations and gain the upper hand.
But since all of Hansen’s records were classified, there was no way to make such sketches of him.
The room where the two conversed was in the most window-adjacent location of the Crystal Blue Night Club. Outside was not Night City but the dilapidated Dog Town and the ocean. The lights faded in this direction, while prosperity lay on the other side.
The Burger King was a terrorist just like him, so naturally, there was no need to hide his true self...
That was a reasonable explanation, but it might also be an act by Hansen.
V raised an eyebrow at that thought: she didn’t expect she could think of these issues herself.
As Hansen spoke, he poured more wine into the glasses on the table, "People always say they’re forced to do things, but in reality, it’s always for those superficial reasons:
Like that recruit, I even watched his video. When the record officer asked him why he enlisted, he said: money and won. Without them... he’d never enjoy that feeling in his lifeti. He’d rather be dead.
It’s not shaful, nor is it glorious. It’s just a fact:
People act, progress, and fall into decadence because of their desires... those who turn themselves into robots, every single one of them is a cyber psycho, because I can’t see their desires, or perhaps their desires are incomprehensible to , and to society.
What about you? What are you doing this for? You’re already a robot. Your nerves, organs, limbs... all are made for missions. What brings you here?"
To paraphrase that soldier’s words: you don’t even have that thing anymore.
Even if you lack base desires, when your loved one touches your body, all she touches is piece after piece of industrial product. At the peak of your passion, all you have to use is a piece of steel, a crude simulation of passion, a cheap thrill...
That kind of stimulation is hardly any different from the high that the holess get off drugs in the streets."
If Lille had a soul that could express his inner facial expressions, his lips would definitely twitch:
A really tricky angle.
Indeed, the reproductive system is a basic function for humans and a major driver of individual activities, but Lille’s body had never been normal since he woke up...
Hansen sure had a knack for talking, a knack for disgusting people.
It was V, however, who glanced outside and couldn’t help retorting, "You run this old soldiers’ barbecue just for money and won? Or to stir up trouble? Or maybe to get stirred up yourself?"
Hansen’s expression froze, with a forced smile as he responded, "I didn’t co here on my own accord. You had the chance not to be fugitives, but now look at you, either mad or foolish. Such people only end up one way: dead.
The most notorious fugitive in all Night City, are you a deeply cunning scher, or just a brainless cyber nutjob, or... just a desperate, stray mutt?"
"Cut the crap, Hansen." Lille interrupted the heated exchange, "Don’t you know why I turned myself into this? It’s all over the outside world. I need Biotechnology’s life-saving tech. You know who brought the stuff over, right?"
"Heh..." Hansen leaned forward, placing both hands on the table and staring intently at Lille—
A highly aggressive posture.
At the sa ti, he waved his hand, and Lille’s Munemasa inside his head imdiately noticed that his electronic ear’s vibration sensor picked up details so subtle they’d be almost impossible to detect by human instinct:
[Munemasa: A very high-end noise cancellation system has started up, allowing him to choose sounds that go out and co in.]
The booths of the Gem Azure Night Club were all open, allowing a view of the banquet and vice versa, but privacy was assured—thanks to the incomprehensible high-end equipnt.
Voices and lip movents were altered, and those still wary could modify their vocal components or use a Prosthetic Eye with data transmission capabilities.
Hansen decided to drop the pretense:
"...That thing is fake; it simply doesn’t exist."
Jack and V were taken aback for a mont.
Lille had considered this possibility, so he was unfazed.
But Jack and V, although they might have contemplated it, showed their vulnerability when faced with the reality.
Hansen imdiately concluded: Among the flurry of information, this piece that seed the least likely to be true—and the easiest to obtain—was actually genuine!
[Little Octopus: Big brother, although it might not be the best ti, I’ve decrypted a ssage:]
[Little Octopus: ’Hydra is about to initiate the Insight Project, deploying five Space Airships. It will start on the President’s inauguration day, and Tony Stark—Nick Fury must be rescued as soon as possible.’]
[Little Octopus: Big brother, the goal of this Insight Project is to use the Space Airships for precision strikes to eliminate politicians and businessn directly connected to us.]
In one view, Lille saw Little Octopus’s report, and in the other, Hansen’s aggressive declaration:
"It’s a decoy, Biotechnology has held a grudge against you for a long ti. This is a trap ant for you. Quantum AI technology? I’ve heard it exists on the Moon, but on Earth?
Maybe, but it’s definitely not going to appear on the black market—I didn’t expect you to turn into such a cyber-madman out of the will to survive. Do you have anything else that could interest ?"
The atmosphere plunged into an ice cellar, and Lille’s neural circuits imdiately tensed:
This outco had crossed his mind.
What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was the two worlds facing a significant turning point simultaneously: The difference in the flow of ti ant he had to confront both at once.
V and Jack covertly tensed every muscle in their bodies, ready to spring into action—
Yet Hansen was not the least bit rattled, "The Tsunami Defense System has a new type of Electromagnetic Sniper Rifle called ’Rakshasa’. I can blow your brains out before your two super cyber-warriors here even get a chance to react.
If you’re not soone pushed to the brink of existence, offer sothing to pique my interest, or... get ready for your journey."
...
Outside the banquet hall, Phantom was recording every detail of the event with Iron Hand.
"...Big guy, do you think I could win V over?"
Iron Hand glanced at his colleague, "Sis, you’ve barely exchanged a few words with V, can you not fantasize?"
"Alright..." Phantom felt a bit disheartened, "I was thinking of writing a small piece for Twiki since we witnessed a Legend fall.
Then, as I went through her stuff, I was struck by the poignancy of her death: If it had been another ti, another place, she and this big brother might have beco good friends.
Yet there are many such people in this world. If this big brother wants to break through, there may be even more people who die on the path he clears for himself, for... the sa reasons."
What reasons?
Twiki had to maintain her team, needing money, resources, and manpower to achieve her dreams and ideals. In doing so, she ended up in the way of these big shots.
Opposing so companies while always relying on the support and resources of others, but without that support and resources, you end up like Twiki in Europe—
Everyone connected to them will die.
Phantom swirled her drink, but Iron Hand patted her shoulder:
"Sothing’s amiss with the atmosphere."
The Netherworld Dogs in the venue were all watching them.
"Looks like the talks have broken down...?"
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