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1.63% Interdimensional Scientist, Starting from Cyberpunk / Chapter 3: The Fixer Must Master the Art of Showmanship

Bab 3: The Fixer Must Master the Art of Showmanship

In the Cyberpunk world, the original internet was blown up by the legendary hacker Bartmoss. Any hacker attempting to access the initial net directly would be attacked by AI.

Nowadays, people access the internet through local networks provided by network monitors, meaning everyone is isolated on the digital scale.

Atlanta belongs to the Rust Belt Network Administrative District, and accessing information from the Pacific State region, where Night City is located, requires a certain level of clearance.

This region encompasses the central and eastern United States, covering massive urban complexes. Atlanta is the core of the city—prosperous and stable. Before V arrived, all they knew was that it was a bustling place.

In reality, apart from corporate employees, no one frequently traverses between different network domains. The flow of information is both broad and narrow in this world—technically advanced but limited in practical application.

Seeing how confidently Leo was speaking, V gave this pure-blooded human a bit more respect.

After all, V, being a street kid, didn't have much of an education.

Noticing V's expression, Leo secretly pumped his fist in celebration, having achieved victory in the second stage of his plan, with the third stage showing promising results as well.

The first stage of successful communication is when the other person is willing to listen to you. The second stage is when they start asking questions. The third stage is when they begin to think about what you're saying—

And then you know that, in the end, they will believe you.

"V, Atlanta isn't for you. It's not a place for street kids like you. You dream of making big money, but for someone from the bottom, the only path here is to work honestly.

But you don't want to do those boring and tedious jobs, so in the end, you'll have no choice but to leave. And believe me, before you leave, you'll likely spend at least a year in prison.

Now, I'm offering you a second path—do you want to make a fortune?"

He trailed off halfway and then cut straight to the point.

Leo didn't stick to his communication plan but instead struck right at the heart.

He wanted to extend his hand, but his body was so weak that he could only shakily place it on the table, gesturing for a handshake.

If his physical condition were normal, he would be sweating profusely at this moment—

A handshake would signify success in the third stage and even mark the beginning of the fourth stage—closing the deal.

But such a risky move would have a success rate of less than 50%.

Unless the other party is an ambitious street kid who wants to make a name for themselves.

Someone like that would never stomach being played, especially when there's a chance to make a fortune—robbing corporate employees wouldn't weigh on V's conscience.

Pushing the conversation forward slowly would have been safer, but the more you talk, the more mistakes you can make. Leo had to leverage the information he was sure of to maximize his advantage.

V didn't lower their gun and instead scanned Leo up and down. "What's your name?"

"Leo Lee—so just call me Leo. It's both my English and Chinese name."

"That's a weird name—and you look awful. Put on some clothes."

V didn't shake hands but casually threw a piece of clothing at Leo. "Put this on, and tell me what you want to do—but let's be clear, I'm just listening."

Leo took the clothes and said, "We'll move Mr. Zhu Shen into the car and talk somewhere safe."

After putting on the new clothes—a pair of dirty dark green cropped pants and a white coat—Leo felt more like a person again, though not entirely. He looked more like one of the homeless people wandering the streets of Night City.

The city core—Atlanta—was prosperous and safe. Unlike driving on roads where rocket-propelled grenades from gangs could hit you at any time, here you could feel the flourishing of technology and the greatness of humanity.

Skyscrapers reached into the sky, traffic flowed in perfect order under smart algorithms, people rushed about, and flying cars occasionally sparkled overhead. Everywhere, there were clean and grandiose holographic advertisements.

The foundation of all this was absolute surveillance and the death penalty for cybercrimes.

It was impossible to hide your tracks online, which naturally made it impossible to hide real-world criminal behavior.

Everyone was monitored, and everyone was safe—this was Atlanta.

Driving past the overpasses, the car continued to the edge of the city, where it was still relatively safe, at least without gunfire everywhere.

But it was dark. People had dull, lifeless eyes, fatigue etched into their faces. Poverty was their lifelong curse, destined to plague them for generations.

"If I had to live like these people, doing nothing every day, I'd rather be dead," V suddenly complained while driving.

"Human endurance is strong. Not everyone is like you, V."

V glanced at Leo in the passenger seat. "And what about you? You don't look like a corporate employee either. How does a bald guy know so much?"

"First of all, I'm not bald. Secondly—why do you think I'm not a corporate employee?"

"Haha, you don't even have a high-grade cybernetic body, and yet you're acting all tough?"

"See, that's where your lack of knowledge shows." Leo decisively launched into a belittling mode. For the sake of his life, a little manipulation was necessary.

"If corporations only wanted fully cybernetically enhanced individuals, wouldn't the Maelstrom gang all join up and collect Trauma Team insurance? Wake up, V, the degree of cybernetic enhancement isn't the main concern for corporations.

They produce cyberware themselves; what matters more are talents beyond cybernetics."

Leo wasn't exactly lying—strictly speaking, in his previous life, he would've been considered a corporate stooge in the eyes of street kids like V.

If a good body were enough to land a corporate job, the company would be filled with athletes.

Screech—

A sharp braking sound interrupted Leo's monologue, and inertia nearly threw him against the windshield.

"One hard brake, and I could've killed you. Still wanna keep up the act?"

Leo looked at V, who had slammed the door and got out, with helplessness written all over his face.

This chick had a serious temper—well, the V he controlled in the game was even more violent, the type the NCPD would label a menace.

This place was V's chosen temporary hideout—a rundown shack made of sheet metal, only costing 120 Eurodollars a month to rent from the property company.

That's right, this dilapidated tin shack had no smart wiring, no physical network connection, nothing—just an unstable power line and the right to use the land. All for 120 euros a month.

The advantage was that you could avoid law enforcement. The disadvantage was also avoiding law enforcement—you wouldn't dare sleep here without some serious protection.

Boom.

Zhu Shen was thrown onto the ground as V said, "Alright, what's your plan?"

"Find out what shady deals they're up to and determine how much we can take."

V paused for a moment. "You said they played me."

Leo explained, "Yes, your employer deceived you. But the reason they hired you is probably because they can't deal with the authorities themselves. How've you been reporting to them?"

"I told her I was still chasing those scavengers—she didn't suspect anything. But I guess it's only a matter of time before she figures something's off."

"No worries. Let's wake this guy up—just physiologically, don't remove his isolation chip."

"Such high demands."

With that, V pulled out a pneumatic injector and gave Mr. Zhu a shot.

"Huuuh—"

It was as if he'd returned from hell. The man took a deep breath, exhaled, and looked around in terror.

"Who—who are you? Where am I?"

"We're your saviors—depending on your answer, you might end up in heaven or hell. I guess you've realized your system's been hacked."

"Damn it!" Zhu Shen hesitated for a moment, realizing that none of his cyberware was functioning, then cursed under his breath, "Let me go, and I'll give you more money."

You had to give credit to Mr. Zhu; he was quite composed, taking only a few seconds to regain his calm—or at least his outward composure.

Leo stroked his chin and said, "So you've already figured out who's screwing you over?"

Corporate types have a keen nose for conspiracy, especially when they're already being targeted. Continuing to blame the scavengers would mean he was truly incompetent.

Zhu Shen raised his head and warily stared at Leo. "Let me go, and I'll give you a sum of money. Then we'll pretend none of this ever happened."

"Hmph, typical corporate dog, still talking so tough at a time like this." V sneered from the side.

Leo, on the other hand, said, "Look, if you understood your situation, you'd know that if we took your money and let you go, we'd definitely die—and so would you.

But we could follow the script our employer gave us. At least we'd still get reimbursed for travel expenses and such."

Zhu Shen wasn't budging. "Then go ahead and stick to your script."

Leo smiled without saying anything, simply locking eyes with the corporate executive. After a few seconds, Zhu Shen's face began to pale.

The system virus was causing his cyberware to malfunction, and the dizziness and nausea were interfering with his judgment, making it difficult to think straight.

But, as Leo had guessed, he didn't immediately reboot the system and call the authorities—this was good news, suggesting the payoff was significant.

Leo said, "But as you've figured out, our employer wasn't entirely honest with us. I don't like being lied to—so I'm giving you a chance. We'll work for you, as long as you offer a better deal—of course, a much better deal.

You know, you're in luck. I'm new to this business, so I'm more open to high-risk jobs."

"Ugh—" Zhu Shen started to dry heave but quickly pulled himself together.

He looked at Leo, then at V, and finally said to Leo, "I'll only talk to you."

Leo was thrilled internally, though he kept his composure, his mind flashing with scenes from movies about bluffing—

A fixer can be poor and weak, but they must always know how to bluff, especially in front of mercenaries.

"Alright—paradise to the left, V. Could you open the door to the left for this gentleman?"

V gave Leo a strange look but opened the door on the left.

The tin shack did have two rooms, but the other room was a bathroom. There's no way he's going to make Zhu Shen negotiate in the bathroom, right?

What a pretentious bald guy.


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