Cyberpunk: From Dogville to Legend

Chapter 342 Public Enemy of the Company! (Part 6) [5.4K] (End of Chapter)
[Urgent Matters to be Performed]

Nash glanced at the to-do list displayed by the company's AI system within his prosthetic eye and couldn't help but wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.

The phrase "what you fear most is what happens" perfectly describes the current situation.

Stevenson is dead, utterly dead—

Nash's attempt to use the management transition and Stevenson's absence from the biotech building to eliminate dissidents has completely backfired.

"Damn military technology!"

The biotechnology company was clearly stunned, never expecting its ally to go to such lengths.

In short, the two companies, each with their own ulterior motives, were scheming against each other. Now that they had messed up and the other side had found out, it was time for them to pass the buck and shrug it off, as is customary.

But things always gave Nash a strange feeling.

How did they learn about military technology?!

Stevenson is a thorn in their side, and also a key player in making a devastating blow to biotechnology.

For many years, the dirty work in biotechnology has mostly been done in the data office, and the even dirtier work that can't be seen by people is carried around in the memory bank by the intelligence department's superiors.

Just then, the annoying ticking sound continued incessantly.

Nash wanted to puncture his eardrums; he dared not leave his office to go to the main conference room in the biotechnology building.

If those "white-faced bitches" sitting at the shareholders' meeting reach an agreement with the military technology guys, Nash, who organized this, can't even imagine the repercussions he'll face afterward.

"Sir, the shareholders' meeting requires you to connect to the company's live web connection immediately!"

The subordinate knew this request was difficult.

But company orders are absolute. If you want to keep your job, you have to obey, even if it means forcing Nash to join the meeting... But he didn't dare. Fortune changes, and subordinates want to leave themselves a way out.

"Well…"

Nash rubbed his temples. "How's the person I asked you to find in Night City going?"

"We need to gather some intelligence. Is it really possible that Stevenson's memory bank was stolen? And—have we found that damned traitor, that idiot who came to Night City to fawn over military technology?"

The pitch rose higher and higher, and the movements became increasingly clumsy.

"We're already doing our best to investigate. We've contacted some long-established middlemen in Night City, and they're so influential that no one dares to take their cases lightly."

"Before the military technology sealed off the valley area... those thugs looted everything, and there was probably nothing left at the scene except rotten flesh!"

This is true.

Most of the standard company weapons in the hands of gangs are not actually purchased from legitimate arms dealers.

The company didn't always thrive in Night City; there are far too many powerful figures who dare to insult people in front of the company.

If a company employee isn't high-ranking enough, even a hot-tempered NCPD officer on the street might snap at them:
"You stupid company dog!"

So when biotechnology and military technology clashed in the Valley region and both sides were severely damaged, the desperados and people incited by rock singers would not just focus on the weapons and equipment on the dead... These could all be exchanged for a lot of money, and it was a one-off deal; the more they looted, the more they made.

After all, it's not every day that company employees die on the streets of Night City.

Most of them actually rotted in the garbage-filled, stinking environment, and the smell was so strong that it was hard for anyone else to notice, let alone the corpses whose legs were filled with cement and thrown directly into the river that ran through Night City and along the coast.

Those who work in the company, especially those involved with secrets, should be prepared for this.

Nash felt that these difficult, low-level "beasts" were truly asking for trouble...

That's right.

The company's people are just that arrogant. In their eyes, the famous middlemen in the city are high-level mercenaries who will take any job, no matter how bad. They have mercenary resources that can carry out missions in the complex environment of Night City. Most of the time, when the company hires a middleman, they choose not to pay the final payment.

Nobody can do anything about them.

White gloves should be treated with the awareness of a white glove.

The subordinate gritted his teeth, "Boss... none of our men are out of contact now. Military technology must know all about this and have prepared an ambush... otherwise, why would all of our men have been wiped out in such a short time?"

The lack of a way to turn the tide was Nash's most painful feeling.

The corpse cannot speak; it needs a living person to speak for it.

There's no time to lose. The warnings in my prosthetic eye are coming faster and faster. If this continues, I'll lose before I even have a chance to fight back.

The office lights quickly dimmed, and a long table was set up for a meeting. On one side were biotechnology people, and on the other side were military technology people with their arms crossed and a mocking expression.

Before Nash could come up with an excuse for being late to the meeting, he heard the man at the very front of the board say indifferently, "Now that the person in charge is here, let's begin."

This gave Nash, who was good at reading people, a glimmer of an opportunity.

This protective rhetoric, which attempts to shift blame, demonstrates that today's biotechnology harbors many grievances against military technology.

"Today's meeting is meaningless."

The chief of military technology operations, the person in charge with the highest chance of job turnover within the company, unplugged the brain-computer interface to read intelligence, sneered, and let go, dropping it to the ground under the gaze of biotechnology.

Classic American sarcasm.

"Two heavy ACPAs and an elite team rushed to the coordinates in the valley area that needed to be investigated. And what was the result?"

Military technology—these are all things that have been climbed up through cunning and manipulative means; these suit-wearing dogs have eyes as fierce as wolves.

"They all lost contact in less than ten minutes. Without a company-level hacker team backing them up, not a single message could get out."

This is what it means to bite back – a real-life example of biting back.

Most of the biotech professionals are technocrats; many of them may love money or research results, but few enjoy killing—except for Nash and the man behind him.

Nash's hands, resting on his thighs, were clenched tightly.

Humiliation and counter-accusations—the biotechnology industry is no less aggrieved than they are.

No one spoke; only the shareholders' condescending gazes swept over Nash…

Ugh, damn it.

Nash, who had barely been happy for an hour after eliminating his rivals, experienced several extreme highs and lows in his life.

"All of our men died in the valley region—"

"Who the hell are you?"

The shareholders of the military technology company were quite blunt; interrupting meant that the other party had absolutely no respect for them.

Nash's face turned pale and ashen, and he subconsciously glanced at his backer out of the corner of his eye.

"cough…"

He seemed to have choked on his cigar.

Nash's expression changed drastically, instantly turning into extreme rage!
"I'm the fucking direct superior of those people in the Valley area, and my intelligence chief is fucking dead in the Valley area!"

"Is that enough?!"

These old-fashioned guys in military technology, who take off their uniforms and put on suits, absolutely hate "disobedience." Even though Nash's company rank had nothing to do with them, that guy still wanted to act like a boss—

Are you sure...?

"If you ask me, why don't we just have those Japanese company owners sit here and uphold justice for us?"

Even though he didn't finish his sentence, the threat was obvious.

"Alright, William, let others finish speaking."

Military technology also knows that biotechnology cannot be rushed.

The chance to save his life is now in his own hands, so Nash has to work his ass off. It turns out that when people are mentally prepared, their brains become exceptionally sharp in a crisis.

Convincing military technology? Is the whole thing just going to be over after everyone slaps each other a few times?
Nash felt this shouldn't be done.

"First of all, our biotechnology team did receive intelligence that a high-ranking tech executive had defected from Europe, entered Night City using the name Todd Avery, and ultimately disappeared in the Valley region..."

When it comes to military technology, the first thing to look at isn't Nash, but the executives in biotechnology.

Clearly, apart from one person who remained calm, the others all seemed somewhat bewildered.

Did Nash really just blurt out such a top-secret operation so casually?
"You bastard, do you know what you're saying?"

But Nash showed no sign of stopping.

"What's the point of covering things up now that things have come to this? Why is the military technology sector conducting military operations in the valley region, and why is it adopting a stance of being hostile to biotechnology?"

The biotechnology executives looked grim, while only the dark-haired woman at the head of the table, with her sharp eyes, seemed thoughtful.

She was the head of biotechnology on the west coast, sent by Rome.

Tina Caruso

Even the most shameless person would have to side with Nash after hearing that.

"Could it be that a biotechnology industrial spy has taken away your important intelligence?"

Military technology follows the same old pattern.

Who the hell do you think you are?

The one who spoke was naturally the one Nash had defied, while the other said calmly, "We received intelligence that your people are up to no good again. I'm sorry, but I think they may have already done it. To prevent further losses to the company's assets, it's perfectly reasonable for us to send in troops—"

When Nash saw the executive who was hostile towards him sneer, he knew he had really messed up.

The intelligence-sharing system contained footage of numerous biotechnology operations targeting military technology. Damn it—

Nash knows who has the data!
If this were done using military technology that is inextricably linked to the interests of the new America, it would be too easy.

The hacking of the data bank was most likely the work of Washington.

What do you want to say?
It seems that the new Americans place too much importance on evidence, completely ignoring whether the reasons for the intelligence source are sufficient. However, they are unwilling and unable to explain the source of the intelligence. For a weaker opponent, an explanation is already their greatest mercy.

Nash was furious, but he got to that position not because he was fat, but because he knew how to create opportunities under unfavorable conditions.

"So you killed our intelligence chief, is that a fair interpretation?"

"Otherwise, I can't believe that your intelligence source is a tip-off."

Ignoring the slightly approving glances from the shareholders, Nash cursed the silent bastards in his heart, but still verbally advocated for opportunities in biotechnology.

Do we need to explain?

Nash immediately stood up; even though he was on a remote connection, it couldn't stop his indignation.

This is an extremely tragic thing.

The company dog, who would stop at nothing to eliminate dissidents, was the only one who stood up to protect the interests of the collective.

"Isn't there a need to explain?"

"Ninety percent of the intelligence markings are from our Night City branch. You're saying this came from Rome? Is that even possible?!"

That's a resounding statement, nothing more.

Just like the new America, when reason fails, military technology resorts to bullying tactics.

The company and the system behind it have a low credit rating globally, which is not unfounded.

"Are you implying that all the problems lie with us?"

"Who is responsible for the shrinking assets of military technology companies? Is it you, Mr. Nash?"

Nash stared straight at the guy who had been causing him trouble many times before. He wanted to see just how shameless these Americans could be.

"Deploying the army for a rock kid is just a cover to undermine military technology. Put away your little tricks, it's not your place to speak now."

Just as Nash was about to argue his case, the woman at the head of the table slowly stood up and politely pushed her chair in.

Now it was the military technology people's turn to look at each other in bewilderment.

While these people were putting pressure on biotechnology, I kept an eye on the seemingly new head of the project. Rome was already utterly disappointed with Night City's continuous media storms, and it was a foregone conclusion that a new head would be appointed.

The rock boy incident can be seen as a struggle by the person in charge before Tina arrived, because they were desperate and that's why they went to such extremes.

Of course... Night City's gradually loosening of agreements also contributed significantly to this chaotic situation.

"Since they are unwilling to communicate with biotechnology..."

"Then let's get ready to cut it."

The woman's voice seemed to remain on the same line, and she dressed in extremely conservative retro suits and trousers—a stark contrast to the neo-kitsch style of a few executives in the biotechnology industry.

"What do you mean, Tina? It seems Europe's way of solving problems is quite crude."

The guy with the military technology was all smiles, trying to put on a humorous and gentlemanly air.

The woman nodded meaningfully, then uttered a statement even more violent than Nash's—

"Thanks to our military technology teammates, we are suffering defeat after defeat in Night City. I'm standing here listening to you, but I'm not getting any useful information. All I see are my employees arguing for this company."

Some of the biotechnology executives on the spot tried to wave their hands in refusal.

Are you kidding me? Some of them are even protected by military technology…

"That damn bitch..."

Someone cursed inwardly.

Perhaps because military technology has dragged the Night City branch's biotechnology into the mire too many times, Rome has lost patience and will naturally change its strategy.

"What do you mean?"

Those involved in military technology were relentless in their pursuit.

The woman glanced at Nash and noticed that he, who had been so passionate just moments before, now unconsciously raised his head, his face pale.

Losing composure?
Tina sighed inwardly. It seemed there were still too few people who could actually use biotechnology…

What's going on?

But that wasn't the reason Nash was pale. He composed himself and was about to speak when the new head of the department told him to speak directly.

Nash disregarded the occasion, "DRAR Corporation's high-risk target, Rin—is most likely still alive!"

静…

Immediately following was an uproar!
Now it's the military technology sector's turn to be unhappy—

"Go to hell, are you treating us like idiots? You handled the operation against Dreamers separately before, and the reason you didn't take over the company was because your methods were wrong... It's just an ordinary small company that sells weapons and handles logistics. It could even be kicked out of Night City without that monster. What is it without that monster?!"

"Now... they're putting on a show again to get us back on the same page? Humph, they're really something else!"

Ultimately, the only one who can determine the attitude towards military technology is the guy who plays the bad cop.

He slowly stood up, preparing to leave the meeting.

"Since we are allies, I think we should show some sincerity. This matter... is not over!"

Intelligence in biotechnology can be easily verified, but military technology cannot.

Because the situation was no longer favorable for them.

They could only grit their teeth and leave a few words, then decide to investigate Tina thoroughly and figure out how to continue manipulating biotechnology before sitting down for a proper discussion.

"I will consult Washington, and you should also communicate with Rome as soon as possible... Military technology will not accept such childish rhetoric. Hopefully, when we meet next time, we can hear the truth from those cesspools of Night City."

It ended badly, that's probably how it is.

But at least their tough stance bought them some leeway.

Time was short, so this was the only way Tina could manage.

She watched as everyone logged off the video conference one by one, then turned to Nash and said, "You, come here for a second."

……

A rare vacation.

Nash handed over all the information the Night City middleman had gathered to his new boss. He didn't know the concept of fortune and misfortune being intertwined; he only knew that his luck was sometimes good and sometimes bad, but apart from a little psychological shock, overall it was the luckiest day of his life.

Stevenson is dead, someone else is cleaning up the mess, and he's earned enough points for his performance...

The hot night air of Night City, accompanied by instrumental music from The Sound of the Pacific, captivated Nash. He decided to drive past the company square and have a drink, something the NCPD usually wouldn't interfere with.

The car slowly came to a stop, and he could hear the repeated prompts of the electronic pedestrian crossing. He would have to wait a while before he could cross the holographic zebra crossing that was flashing with light and shadow on the ground.

Nash's fat arm was draped over the outside of the driver's seat, and the sound of a motorcycle came from the side.

Under the flashing neon lights, a graceful figure glides across the sleek black car body…

Wow, it's absolutely gorgeous!

Even with a helmet on, the impact of his physique was still undeniable.

Nash whistled, and the hot woman lying on the motorcycle slowly took off her riding gloves.

Nash's car wasn't cheap, and he wanted to see if this woman would pull out her phone and give him her contact information or something... Night City was pretty good, wasn't it!
The helmet was lifted, and pure black hair tore through the fragmented neon lights. Her perfectly proportioned features made her profile flawless, and the faint chill in her gaze completed the final harmony of her beauty.

Moreover, the grassy and woody aroma that gradually wafts from the lady is a characteristic of top-quality wines!
The woman noticed Nash scrutinizing her, then glanced back at the security convoy following him.

"Nash?"

The woman's slightly nasal voice was strangely pleasant, and it also had a kind of languid quality.

Nash was stunned.

I've dated quite a few girls, but this one's top-tier... did I forget because I was drinking?

Nash didn't nod, but that seemed enough to the woman. She reached into her pocket, and the doors of the security convoy behind her immediately opened—

"The dreamer sends his greetings, you idiot!"

The woman raised her middle finger, and in the brief moment Nash was stunned and tried to close the window, a "well-behaved biological grenade," still warm from her body, flew into the car in a perfect parabola...

The prepaid cards arrived just right.

hum!
The locomotive roared!
The woman lay prone on the helmet, her head held high like a wild horse, a sliver of heat flashing from the side of her helmet, as stray bullets approached from behind.

The front of the car swayed from side to side, its posture unpredictable and erratic.

"All done, Roger."

V hung up the phone and continued to twist the throttle of the motorcycle all the way to the floor…

……

……

　[Tina Caruso]: Head of Biotechnology on the West Coast in the base game Cyberpunk 2077. No image found.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)