Cyberpunk: I didn't cheat.

"Looks like you're lame but not brain-damaged. Is there anything else? If not, Mr. Wells and Mr. Vito are about to leave."

The armored vehicle nearly ground its teeth to powder at Jack's mocking words, but it swallowed its anger.

"Damn it! Let's go!"

Vito got into the car, while Jack, holding the golden shrew in both hands, watched the group walk a while before getting into the driver's seat.

After Vito achieved precise turret linking via personal connection, he fired a shot in the direction of the armored vehicle group.

A wrecked vehicle next to them was riddled with sparks, and the armored vehicle and the new recruits immediately lay down to find cover.

Goodnight, armored vehicle, have a good run!

Vito's voice came from behind them, and only after Jack drove the Magician away did the group in the armored vehicle dare to show their faces.

"Damn, that arrogant guy, I'll take him down sooner or later!"

A new recruit spat on the ground.

The armored vehicle, looking at the large hole in the wrecked truck, couldn't help but shudder.

……

After dropping Vito off, Jack drove the Magician to pick up Misty, who had prepared a custom-made tarot deck as a gift for her.

When Vito got home, he lay in bed feeling restless and unable to sleep. He hadn't planned on finding a partner, but seeing Li Ying today seemed to have ignited his lifeless spirit.

Vito shook his head, got up, and got dressed.

"Sigh! Oh well, armored vehicle, you've really run into trouble today. I hope your exploding head will be the best medicine to cure my insomnia tonight."

Vito donned the Square Head mask, and tonight, Square Head strikes again, not to remove the tumor, but because Mr. Square Head is suffering from insomnia.

Vito hailed an old car parked on the side of the road. He also chose an old-fashioned Thunder, started it up, and drove towards the Sixth Street gang's territory.

Vito slowed down after arriving at his destination, and soon he saw several thugs from the Sixth Street gang robbing and extorting people on the roadside.

"I've paid protection money! Really! I run a hot dog stand across the street, you should know me!"

The thugs from the Sixth Street gang still pointed guns at passersby's heads.

"You paid? I didn't see it! If I didn't see it, then you didn't pay, understand? But I'm in a good mood today, so you only need to pay half!"

The passerby was almost in tears. He had something to do on the street tonight, but he didn't expect to run into these thugs.

The thugs from Sixth Street knew that the passerby was the hot dog stand vendor, and they had paid the full amount of protection money, but to no avail. The thugs had lost everything that night and needed to recoup their losses.

Tingwei stopped next to the group.

"Damn it! What a piece of junk! Oh well, it's worth a few bucks. You! Get out of the car and hand over all the money you have!"

The thug turned the gun towards Tingwei and threatened him.

The car door opened, and Vito got out.

"Holy crap! It's a blocky guy!"

When the Sixth Street gang saw Vito's iconic square screen on his face and the still-moving Night City cityscape on it, they knew they had run into the legendary Night City Madman Square Head, and the real deal, not some idiot cosplaying.

Vito drew his Punishment weapon and fired six shots in quick succession, blowing the heads off all six thugs, leaving only the leader and a terrified bystander.

The thug pointed the gun at Vito and threatened him.

"Don't come any closer, you've already fired all six bullets!"

Vito's voice rang out, sounding like a worn-out vinyl record through a voice changer, but to the thugs, it was the voice of a devil.

"But I have two guns."

After saying that, Vito threw out another Nine-Tailed Fox and pointed it at the thug.

"Besides, your bullets can't penetrate me at all."

The thug seemed to have his bones removed, and collapsed to the ground.

Vito gestured with the muzzle of his gun to signal the passersby to leave, and they scrambled away as fast as they could.

"Tell me where the armored vehicle is. You have ten seconds."

"Crying? Crying counts as time too."

Chapter 48: Ensuring His Safety and Tranquility Along the Way

The cold sound of the voice changer shattered the night breeze. The leader of the Sixth Street gang, lying on the ground, trembled like a sieve. Warm urine soaked through his trousers, leaving a wet patch on the cold asphalt.

Ten seconds of countdown, each second a death sentence.

"Nine...eight..."

Vito slowly raised the Punisher, the muzzle locked onto the thug's brow. The neon night scene flowing on the square mask looked eerie and mocking in the pitch-black night, like Death looking down at an ant with a mockery.

"I'll talk! I'll talk! Don't kill me!"

The thug completely broke down, his hoarse scream shattering the deathly silence of the neighborhood.

"The armored vehicle couldn't win the fight, so he was holding a grudge and took a bunch of brothers back to our underground hideout to drink and gamble! It's in that abandoned auto repair shop in the East District! I'm calling him right now! I'll make sure I die a horrible death if I lie to you!"

Vito nodded slightly, showing no further emotional fluctuation.

"let's hit."

The thug frantically used his computer, his mind in a state of high tension, his fingers trembling so much he could barely select the screen. He shakily dialed the armored vehicle's communication, and the moment the call connected, the armored vehicle's angry curses came from the other end, mixed with the noise of clinking bottles and swearing.

"Are you fucking asking for trouble by calling in the middle of the night?"

Amidst the cacophony of background noise, the Sixth Street gang members were still bragging about their boxing match, angrily denouncing Vito as treacherous and cunning, completely unaware that death was already looming at their doorstep.

The thug secretly glanced at the expressionless cube-shaped man, his heart almost stopping. He hurriedly replied timidly, "Brother, it's me, Tommy. It's nothing, just asking if it's safe around your hideout. I'll bring some money back to meet up with the brothers right away."

"Safety my ass! Who in Santo Domingo would dare touch our Sixth Street Gang? Get back here and gamble! Stop dawdling, and I'll teach you a lesson!"

beep--

The phone call was abruptly ended.

The location and status were thoroughly investigated.

Vito raised his hand and silently disarmed the thug, his voice changer emitting a cold, mechanical tone: "Thank you for showing me the way."

Before he could finish speaking, a large-caliber bullet used as punishment blew the thug's head off.

There was no time for screams; the last thug collapsed instantly, bringing an end to the evil on this street. The night city wind swept over the mess, the stench of blood mingling with the lingering smell of cooking oil from the night market—the most familiar scent of this city.

Vito holstered his gun with clean, swift movements, and leaped back into the old Thunder sports car.

The engine roared, and the dilapidated car body cut through the night, heading straight for the abandoned auto repair shop in the East District.

The auto repair shop was brightly lit at the moment. The dilapidated workshop was filled with empty wine bottles and syringes of inferior stimulants. More than a dozen thugs from the Sixth Street Gang sat around a group, gambling, shouting, drinking and cursing.

The armored vehicle sat in the very center of the crowd, fiddling with the combat prosthetic body concealing steel spikes in its hand, spitting as it complained to its underlings about Vito.

"That kid only knows how to dodge! If he dares to fight me head-on, my steel spikes can slit his throat! Just wait, sooner or later I'll kill him myself and get back all the money I lost!"

Before anyone could realize it, death had already crept into the room.

The next second, the factory's metal gate suddenly exploded!

The roar of the Nine-Tailed Rifle shattered all the noise, its ferocious flames raging and spewing forth. The modified high-capacity drum magazine ensured sustained firepower, and the dense bullets poured down like a torrential downpour.

Metal sheets, cement, human bodies, and prosthetic bodies were all shattered under the firepower. The arrogant Sixth Street gang thugs, who were just moments before, didn't even have a chance to draw their guns before being devoured by most of them.

The screams, wails, and pleas for mercy were instantly drowned out by the gunfire.

Vito walked slowly into the factory, which was littered with limbs, stepping over pools of blood and debris, toward the armored vehicle that had been wounded by stray bullets and lay paralyzed on the ground.

The armored vehicle was covered in blood, its mechanical prosthetics were completely destroyed, and all that remained in its eyes was extreme fear; there was no longer a trace of the ferocity it once displayed in the boxing ring.

"Holy crap, it's a blockhead, I, I..."

Vito looked down at him, his square mask flashing with an eerie light, showing not a trace of pity.

Without further ado, he raised his hand and fired a shot, completely ending the armored vehicle's lingering existence.

After cleaning up the scene, hacking all the surveillance cameras in the factory area, and erasing all traces of his actions, Vito turned and disappeared into the deep, dark alley.

Tonight in the East District, another group of scoundrels have completely disappeared, unknown and uncared for.

……

Meanwhile, on the other side of the street in Santo Domingo, a completely different and peaceful scene unfolded.

After tonight's boxing match, Dorio won the game with his superb fighting skills. The Mann team was in high spirits and walked home together.

A gentle evening breeze and shimmering neon lights dispelled the tension of the competition, allowing everyone to relax and chat and laugh along the way.

David trailed at the back of the group, occasionally glancing furtively at Lucy beside him, his eyes filled with the innocent excitement of youth.

Rebecca, carrying her weapons case, chattered on about the outrageous referees at the match and the despicable Sixth Street gang, while Qiwei walked quietly to the side, smoking, looking relaxed and carefree.

Pila walked at the front of the group with a bright smile on his face. He had just watched an exciting boxing match and witnessed his teammate's victory, so he was in a particularly good mood.

The streets were sparsely populated, with only a few Night City passersby hurrying along. Everything was unusually calm, and no one expected that disaster would strike in the blink of an eye.

In the dimly lit alleyway at the street corner, a hunched-over man with exposed prosthetics slowly emerged.

He was standing on a container and urinating, and he urinated for a long time and made a lot of noise.

His body was modified in a chaotic manner, with exposed mechanical pipes hissing and sparking. His eyes were military prosthetics that glowed red, and he exuded an aura of madness, confusion, and bloodlust—a typical late-stage cyberpsychosis.

His steps were unsteady, his eyes were unfocused, and he swayed as he urinated, muttering incomprehensible nonsense.

He is clearly a pitiful person whose mind has been completely corrupted by excessive implantation of prosthetics and abuse of illegal drugs, and a ticking time bomb that could go berserk in Night City at any moment.

"Hey! That's peeing way too loudly!"

Pira has always been interested in all kinds of fighting prosthetics and modified prosthetics. When he saw the other party's rare violent modified prosthetics, he was not wary at all. Instead, he stopped and jumped onto the container with a smile to greet him, his tone full of admiration.

"Bro! Your cybernetic modifications are amazing! The wiring layout and external power components are top-notch! Incredible!"

His tone was genuine, expressing appreciation for the body modification without any malice.

The man continued to mutter words that no one else could understand.

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Pila leaned close to the man's mouth, trying to hear what he was saying.

The man's prosthetic eye flickered, and he mumbled faster and faster.

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Suddenly, a ricocheting device popped out of the man's hand, and the muzzle was pressed against Pila's chin.

boom!

Chapter 49 He

The moment the gunshots rang out, all the colors in the world faded away.

The laughter and chatter that had just filled the streets, the playful antics of boys and girls, and the relaxed warmth after the game were all utterly shattered by this deafening roar.

Pila's warm and vibrant smile was frozen in the last second.

The explosive explosion sprayed blood and mist all over the metal of the container, and warm bits of flesh and blood splattered onto the cold neon tubes. The dappled light mixed with the scarlet blood outlined the most absurd and cruel scene in Night City.

Pila's body crashed heavily to the ground, landing in the Cyber ​​Madman's urine with a dull thud.

A moment of deathly silence.

The entire street fell completely silent.

The wind stopped, the noise stopped, and even the holographic advertisements on the street seemed to freeze suddenly.

David's feet were rooted to the spot, his pupils trembled violently, his mind went blank, and his blood ran cold instantly.

He opened his mouth, but his throat felt blocked by flesh and blood, and he couldn't make a sound.