下載應用程式
21.81% Interdimensional Scientist, Starting from Cyberpunk / Chapter 53: Loading The Goods

章節 53: Loading The Goods

The squad leader kicked the rookie out of the truck just in time, but the shrapnel and shockwave still left him dazed and disoriented. "Form a defensive formation!"

He quickly got up in a tactical roll and took cover behind the overturned truck, glancing back at his men, only to find that every vehicle had flipped over! That piece of junk really did pop out a Shingen submachine gun, blew out their tires, and shoved a grenade into the rookie's mouth!

Fortunately, the ones responsible for this transport were mostly seasoned veterans, at least newly trained soldiers, not just some random thugs—

They quickly jumped out of the trucks and found cover.

However, that junky Rattler didn't show any signs of stopping, circling around the convoy and tossing grenades like they were going out of style!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The squad leader was stunned. The enemy was throwing grenades like there was no tomorrow!

Boom!

The explosions left his head spinning, feeling like he was being bombarded!

Only after the deafening roar in his ears faded did he dare to peek out.

Bang! A large-caliber bullet pierced through his skull.

Before he completely lost consciousness, he saw three figures step out of that junk car, their silhouettes illuminated by the flames, looking like demons... These three demons casually strolled through the wreckage of the ambush site, occasionally firing shots to finish off survivors.

Finally, after 30 minutes, the battle was over. None of the 6th Street Gang members were left standing.

The fight was hardly a challenge. Leo hadn't even fired a shot after initially blowing out the tires.

This skirmish didn't even give him a chance to test the other special effects of his Yinglong submachine gun, so he'd have to try it out another time.

The three of them slowly walked over to the last rookie soldier, who lay on the ground with a piece of shrapnel stuck in his gut and bullets lodged in both shoulders.

Blood covered his eyes, blurring his vision, so he couldn't clearly see the faces of the three figures.

Through the blood, he could barely make out a slender figure crouching beside him, while the other two busied themselves elsewhere.

"Who... who are you? Please let me go, I'm just a driver..."

Leo tore off the Sixth Street Gang patch from the rookie's shoulder, "Enough of that. You chose this line of work, so it is what it is. Do you even know what you were transporting?"

"I don't know... We just drive. They said it was something to take down Valentino... I really don't know. Please, let me go. I still have family. I have to do this to make money for them to buy vaccines..."

"Well, you're in luck. I don't intend to kill you—when your boss shows up, tell him this transport route is shut down."

Just as he finished speaking, Jackie and V walked over, each carrying a crate, and dropped them on the ground with a thud.

The rookie, trembling, asked, "But... who are you?"

Leo glanced at the two of them, "Come up with a name."

"Uh... King Squad?" V suggested hesitantly.

Jackie chimed in, "I prefer 'Big Deal Crew.'"

"That's dumb. Sounds like the kind of nightclub where rich idiots get scammed—Leo, your turn."

"Me? I use the name Burgerking, and you want me to come up with a name?"

"Fair point... Eh? Did the kid pass out?"

Their debate over a name didn't lead to anything, but the poor rookie had already passed out.

They exchanged puzzled looks—not sure what he had heard before blacking out.

"Whatever... Let's see what we've got here."

Jackie, excited, said, "We've hit the jackpot! It's full of weapons, ammo, grenades, bulletproof vests, and this... It looks valuable. Should we open it?"

Leo nodded.

Inside was a gleaming Rostovic DB-2 Satara, a tech shotgun, one of the few reliable Serbian-made weapons.

This electromagnetic shotgun could fire slugs that could punch through walls, but on the flip side, its downside was its massive size and weight, plus the insane recoil that made it hard to control without significant cybernetic augmentation.

"Whoa... a Satara!"

The hefty Satara fit perfectly in Jackie's hands.

As he activated it for the first time, the electromagnetic accelerators on the shotgun barrel hummed to life. He cracked open the barrel, revealing two shells already loaded.

"It's good... but I wouldn't recommend using it just yet," Leo said after scanning the gun with his enhanced vision, noticing some discrepancies from the standard Satara.

"What do you mean? You don't think my body can handle it?" Jackie replied.

V added, "If Jackie can't use it, who's this gun made for?"

Leo leaned in to inspect the firearm closely, finding some suspicious modifications.

"First off, as a tech double-barrel shotgun, the electromagnetic rails should accelerate the shells from both barrels simultaneously, so it needs a safety feature to fire one at a time. But this gun doesn't have that, so each shot requires a longer charge time, resulting in greater recoil. You might handle a regular Satara, but not this one—the modder even added an extra set of acceleration coils. And..."

Leo took the gun from Jackie and ejected the shells.

"These are custom-made. Judging by the weight, they're heavier than regular Satara rounds—no human could control this gun. Remember Captain Knott in Atlanta? You'd need to be a cyber monster like him to wield this thing."

"Whoa..." V patted Jackie, "The Sixth Street Gang must have some real psychos if they've got this kind of gear."

Jackie shook his head, "If they did, I would've heard about it—too bad, we'll have to scrap it."

"Says who?" Leo handed the gun back to Jackie, "I told you, you need to learn how to use heavy firepower. Once we make enough money, get yourself a Gorilla Arm. It'd be a waste not to."

"Alright, let's get to work—strip the good wheels off these trucks, get three running vehicles, and we'll each drive one back with the goods. I need to see who owns this cargo."

The haul was huge, especially the various ammo and gear. Individually, they weren't worth much, but there was a lot of it.

Aside from the modified Satara, there were other decent finds—dozens of Ajax assault rifles and Saratoga submachine guns.

All Militech weapons. It seemed the Sixth Street Gang had some solid connections at Militech, keeping a steady supply coming.

As Leo lifted one of the crates, he felt something was off.

An empty crate shouldn't be this heavy.

Leo activated his enhanced vision and, sure enough, noticed a gap in the bottom of the crate.

A hidden compartment? Leo picked up a piece of metal from the ground and pried open the false bottom.

Inside was some kind of liquid medicine, stored in a rectangular thermal container.

"Medicine? Interesting... It seems the Sixth Street Gang was being extra cautious."

Leo walked back over to the rookie, connecting his personal link to transmit a backdoor into his communications.

"Transport Route: First stop, Dry Creek Town. The Biotechnica rep will be waiting. Load the goods discreetly; the items are stored in the hidden compartments of the weapon crates."

"When crossing the border, show the Militech ID. They'll let us through, no questions asked."

"Second stop: Red Ocher Family. They've been waiting for a while, so make it quick—they say most of their people are dying. You can raise the price, and the extra will be your bonus."

"Third stop: Arroyo Headquarters."

Leo found a shard in the truck labeled: Transport Route.

V pointed to the liquid they had found in the crates, "So, what do we have here?"

"My guess... it could be vaccines or something similar, provided by Biotechnica. This is getting more interesting—looks like they got a shipment from Militech and then smuggled Biotechnica's stuff behind their backs."

Jackie started to get a familiar feeling—this was starting to sound like a familiar tactic...

Leo rubbed his chin, realizing this situation was getting more complicated.

He remembered what that rookie had mentioned about vaccines earlier—it seemed like Santo Domingo might be dealing with an outbreak.

Something this big, and yet Night City hadn't even raised an eyebrow—though, that was to be expected.

Information on the net is somewhat controlled; unless you have your own forum circles with the right gossip, you wouldn't know about this.

And profitable info like this definitely wouldn't reach the public first.

Of course, it could all turn out to be not as complicated as it seemed.

Jackie's expression was conflicted, "Medicine? This score might be bigger than we thought—hotter too, and I don't mean just in terms of danger, but also morally."

"It's too soon to say. Tell Padre we've snagged a load of Sixth Street Gang's weapons and ammo, and offer to sell it to him at a friendly price."

"What?" V was taken aback, "I thought we weren't supposed to involve him?"

"Corporations are one thing, gangs are another. He'll be more than happy to take this haul off our hands. As for these meds... we'll track down their buyers."


章節 54: Plague-Stricken Red Ocher Family

The Red Ocher Family is a nomadic group under the Aldecaldo Nation, currently wandering the Badlands outside of Night City. Now that Leo has discovered they're buying goods from the Sixth Street Gang, it's essential to stop them. The nomads play a critical role in the illicit trade that thrives around Night City.

As Leo had put it: from the consumer to the supplier, all trade routes must be severed.

They had already seized the goods, warned the distributors, and now it was time to deal with the consumers—

They can still buy, but they'll have to buy from Leo.

Out of the five trucks, they managed to scrape together three Columbus cargo trucks with intact tires, thanks to the precise targeting of their smart weapons. Not a single extra tire was damaged, and by mixing and matching, they had three functional trucks.

After a night of rest, Leo, V, and Jackie each took one of the trucks and headed off-road into the Badlands.

Today was bright and sunny, the sun's glare making Leo squint and reminding him of the drive back from Atlanta.

Leo sighed, "Damn, the sun out here in the Badlands..."

V immediately chimed in, "Told you, anyone who drives in the Badlands for a few days is bound to lose their mind—so, when are you gonna pay me back for all that driving?"

Leo completely ignored V, instead focusing on the small canyon ahead where a few tents were set up, tied to trailers to prevent them from blowing away in a sandstorm.

That was the "home" of the Red Ocher Family.

As the unfamiliar trucks approached, three boys emerged from the tents, each holding a rifle, their faces a mix of vigilance and urgency.

V noted with interest, "They look pretty desperate, agitated even. Probably pissed at the Sixth Street Gang, but they've got no choice but to buy their meds. But where is everyone? They've got kids standing guard?"

Jackie, on the other hand, noticed that just before the three boys got up to greet them, they had been playing with the younger kids in the family.

The nomads seemed to be living in pretty rough conditions, but this scene made Jackie feel a sense of warmth.

Jackie suddenly said, "Leo, maybe we should go easy on them, they're having a rough time."

The trucks pulled up at the entrance to the encampment.

If Jackie could pick up on these things, so could Leo, and he knew even more.

His Kiroshi optic scan picked up some interesting details—inside one of the tents piled high with scrap, he noticed a special storage container.

It didn't have any identifying marks, but it looked similar to the packaging of the medicine they had seized.

In the game, the Red Ocher Family seemed to have accepted Biotechnica's offer to collaborate on some kind of experiment—so it appeared these were the experimental drugs.

"Let's get out and talk—things might be more complicated than we thought."

The three of them stepped out of the trucks, and a few frail-looking women hurriedly ushered the children away as a group of people gathered around.

They tried to make themselves look intimidating, but Leo's Kiroshi optic scan revealed the truth: suspected illness.

Moreover, they all huddled together in the shade.

"Stop right there! I'm guessing you're not Sarabi, and you're definitely not with the Sixth Street Gang. What do you want?"

The lead boy held a Rostovic Needle missile launcher.

He was trying hard to act tough, but his trembling hands didn't escape the trio's notice—he was scared.

And it wasn't just him, but the boys behind him too, though the leader seemed to have a bit more backbone.

Unlike city folk, where even a 60-year-old could get facial implants to look youthful, nomads didn't have the money or the tech. If they looked 18, they probably were 18.

This one seemed even younger—maybe only 15 or 16.

V scoffed, striding forward with confidence, reciting the lines Leo had given her:

"Pfft—Rostovic DB-4 Needle missile, Serbian industrial junk. Scary name, but it's really just for shooting ducks. Fire it off, and if you're lucky, nothing happens. If you're unlucky, the barrel blows out, and if you're really unlucky, both barrels explode. Serbian guns are only good for one thing."

V gave a thumbs-up over her shoulder—Jackie shifted slightly, revealing the Satara on his back.

She then walked right up to the boy, the gun barrel pressed against her stomach, no more than 20 centimeters away.

She just stared at him, the pressure on him mounting like a mountain, sweat pouring down his face.

Then, V gently pushed the rusty gun aside, "That gun's bark is worse than its bite, kid. Now, get someone who can actually talk."

The boy was visibly tense, sweat pouring down his forehead.

He nervously glanced back at the people behind him, just as he was about to say something, Leo stepped forward.

"Don't scare our customer—friend, we're not here to cause trouble, but it seems there's been a misunderstanding. I'm guessing this is what you need?"

He held up the container of medicine, the pale blue liquid inside glinting in the sunlight.

"You... you... the Sixth Street Gang said you were bandits, that you stole our meds..."

"But here they are. Go fetch your leader; we can talk."

Cough, cough.

At that moment, a pale man stepped out, dressed in heavy clothing and wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat, constantly coughing, looking like he was about to collapse.

Another version of myself, thought Leo.

Of course, this man was much older.

"Navi, stand down. I'll speak with them." The man walked up to Leo, trying his best to stand upright. "I'm Hector Crois, chieftain of the Red Ocher Family. What do you want?"

"To be precise, what do you want?" Leo put the medicine away. "It would be friendlier to sit down and talk, don't you think?"

Hector reluctantly nodded.

Normally, he should have refused such a request—there's no reason to let strangers see the state of their family.

But, as Leo had pointed out, they had nothing left. They might as well be more agreeable.

Inside the tent, Hector looked even weaker—strangely so.

He had sought shade outside, but once inside, he seemed even more drained.

He was bundled up tightly, but Leo noticed some faint green marks around his eyes, unsure if they were tattoos.

"We're sick. Actually, I heard from the Sixth Street Gang that Santo Domingo is sick too. They called it something like gamma rabies."

Rabies? But there weren't many dogs left in the world, only the wealthy could afford to keep them, and to put it bluntly, nomads weren't even worthy of being bitten by dogs.

It was probably some new variant virus, modified from rabies. Several corporate wars had unleashed plenty of things like that.

There wasn't much useful information in the public databases of this world. Viruses linked to corporations could only be found in corporate databases—Leo would have to check next time he had access to one.

Leo stroked his chin, "I'm guessing they also said that's why the medicine prices went up. How much are they charging you?"

Hector hesitated, but eventually decided to tell the truth, "A single vial of the slow-release drug costs 80,000 eurodollars, about the size of the one you're holding. It used to be just 40,000 eurodollars. But then the disease hit, and those bastards doubled the price!"

One vial—about 300ml, more like a bottle.

At a dosage of 5ml per person, that's enough for 60 people, and this slow-release drug might last about a week.

In other words, with this disease, a person would have to spend 670 eurodollars on medication each week, and the Red Ocher people would need 1,340 eurodollars.

Sickness truly is a curse.

"And what about the vaccine?"

"The vaccine..." A look of pain flashed across Hector's face, "We can't afford it."

That was a lie.

Vaccines might be more expensive than the slow-release drug, but if they could afford the latter, not being able to afford a few vaccines was nonsense.

Leo suddenly said, "You signed a human experimentation agreement with Biotechnica, so you can't use the vaccine."

Hector's face turned pale.

"It's clear these two things are connected, and they might even be related—however, don't worry, I'm not here to dig for information. I do have some medicine with me. How much money do you have?"

This sudden shift in conversation threw Hector off track.

The confidentiality agreement was part of the deal, and thankfully Leo didn't press further.

As for money, things were more complicated—the family members were sick, so they had to spend money on medicine.

But after buying the medicine, instead of getting better, more and more people fell ill, leaving fewer people to work.

The Red Ocher Family wasn't large or small, with about a hundred or so members, but because of this situation, over the past month, they had slowly burned through their savings.

"200,000 eurodollars, that's all we have."

"That's a lot, Chief—but for the sake of the children, I can sell you the slow-release drug at half price, as a gesture of friendship. 200,000 eurodollars, originally only enough for 2 vials, but I'll give you 5, and throw in an extra for free, making it 6 vials."

Hector was stunned by Leo's offer!

Gamma rabies is a self-limiting disease, and the best you can do is use more slow-release drugs to alleviate symptoms and wait for the body to recover.

The longer you can hang on, the better your chances of survival, and once you make it past three weeks, the recovery rate jumps dramatically! That's what the Biotechnica people had personally explained to him! The 200,000 eurodollars worth of medicine he originally planned to buy would have barely lasted them a week. Now, they had a chance to survive!

Leo finished his pitch by placing both hands on the table, speaking casually, "You see, as friends, I only have one request—cut off all ties with the Sixth Street Gang. No more cooperation, in any form, including trade."

Then he extended his hand across the table, "So, friends?"

Hector, overwhelmed with emotion, grasped Leo's hand, "Friends!"


Load failed, please RETRY

每周推薦票狀態

批量訂閱

目錄

顯示選項

背景

EoMt的

大小

章評

寫檢討 閱讀狀態: C53
無法發佈。請再試一次
  • 寫作品質
  • 更新的穩定性
  • 故事發展
  • 人物形象設計
  • 世界背景

總分 0.0

評論發佈成功! 閱讀更多評論
用推薦票投票
Rank 200+ 推薦票榜
Stone 130 推薦票
舉報不當內容
錯誤提示

舉報暴力內容

段落註釋

登錄

tip 段落評論

段落註釋功能現已上線!將滑鼠移到任何段落上,然後按下圖示以添加您的評論。

此外,您可以隨時在「設置」 中將其關閉/ 打開。

明白了