Cyberpunk: I didn't cheat.

Chapter 126 How long has it been?

People are afraid of comparisons. Night City is a pile of dog shit, but compared to Dogtown, it smells much better.

Dogtown and Night City are separated by a wall, but some people are desperate to get out, while others are desperate to get in.

This pure survival of the fittest, where the strong prey on the weak, is a paradise for the chaotic and a local characteristic of Dogtown.

Night City is populous and large, so there are many extraordinary people there. Dogtown, though smaller and less populous, is full of extraordinary people.

Liying changed the power supply for the incubator, while Vito went out to see what task Hans was going to assign.

As soon as Vito stepped out of the room with the sapphire blue glass, he saw a group of monks with advanced cybernetic implants, which piqued his interest.

These Buddhists generally reject prosthetic implants because they emphasize cultivating their inner selves and believe that one must abstain from prosthetics in order to achieve enlightenment.

But these people in front of us, apart from being dressed like monks, behaved and had prosthetic bodies that made them seem more like wealthy elderly men on vacation.

They noticed Vito, but instead of looking down on him because of his casual mercenary attire, they nodded at him in a friendly manner.

Those who can live in Gemstone Green are definitely not from the bottom rungs of Dogtown; they are happy to offer a little smile.

Leaving the Gemstone Green, Vito found himself on the streets of Dogtown, littered with industrial waste. Apart from some Dogtown ghost soldiers and people doing shady business, Vito didn't see any Dogtown residents driving cars.

Vito lit a cigarette. Dogtown smelled strange, like a septic tank being heated underground.

The patrolling hound soldiers gathered in twos and threes. Rather than saying they were on guard duty, it would be more accurate to say they were just loafing around. But if there was any emergency, they would immediately grab their guns and start fighting.

They were well-equipped; their weapons weren't the cheap stuff Kurt Hansen made and sent to Night City's vending machines, but top-notch guns.

It is clear that although Colonel Kurt Hansen became a local tyrant, he did not lose his military roots at all.

Vito made a phone call to Mr. Hans, and as expected, Mr. Hans hid his face in the shadows.

Vito curled his lip. No wonder he and Tommasino were buddies. Tommasino's pretentious act was probably learned from Hans, though it was a bit of a poor imitation.

"Hello, mercenary, who are you? I don't remember having your contact information."

Mr. Hans’s voice was slow and relaxed, a demeanor that seemed a step above Thomasino’s deliberate effort.

"Sorry, wrong number."

Tommasino couldn't possibly keep quiet about wanting to help Hans, so Vito gave Mr. Hans a rather sarcastic look.

"Alright, Vito, I know it's you. Musso told me you're quite a character."

Hanz's voice was devoid of emotion as he continued.

"Go to EBM Petró Petrochemical Stadium. Someone there will meet you. This must be your first time in Dogtown. They sell a lot of good stuff there. I think a tourist like you would really like their local specialties."

"What does the person I'm working with look like?"

"It's okay, he'll find you. Have fun."

After saying that, Mr. Hans hung up the phone.

There was no detailed information, no middleman was met, and they didn't even know what they were supposed to do.

This deal is more interesting than Vito imagined.

Vito wandered into the stadium, which was more like a large free market than a stadium. Some people had opened small parts shops, some had opened food stalls, and some had simply spread out a cloth on the ground with some C7 bombs they had assembled themselves.

Vito squatted down in front of the C7 explosives stall, picked up a piece of explosives, and patted it.

"Hey kid, don't fucking touch it if you're not buying!"

The stall owner said irritably.

"How much does one piece of this explosive cost?"

"Six thousand for one unit, no bargaining!"

Vito weighed the C7 explosive in his hand again.

"Me! Is your C7 made of gold, or is the detonator made of gold?"

"Look at this stuff! You know about the Arasaka Tower attack a few days ago? They used my explosives! Are you fucking buying it or not?"

"Sure, I'll buy it. But is the quality and quantity of your explosives guaranteed? If it is, I'll buy it."

The stall owner was furious when he heard this. He was already feeling guilty because he had mixed something into the explosives he was selling, and he immediately cursed when Vito said that.

"Hey kid, are you trying to cause trouble? I'm a dynamite seller, why would I sell you a 'silent fart box'? Just tell me if you're buying it or not."

"Are you sure about the quality and quantity of this explosive?"

Just then, a burst of loud music started playing from the radio at the stall next door.

"Are you deliberately trying to cause trouble? Do you want to or not?"

Vito picked up another piece of explosives.

"I'll definitely take it if it's guaranteed to be high quality and quantity, but what if the quality is poor?"

The stall owner rolled his eyes at Vito.

"If it's junk, I'll chew it like gum!"

Vito smiled, pulled out the detonator, and then flicked out a small knife from his right prosthetic arm, stabbing it into the C7 and revealing the plaster inside the C7 explosive.

He casually tossed the explosives to the stall owner, then tucked the detonator into his sleeve with his dirty little hands.

"Chew, chew it all up!"

The stall owner's face turned pale and then red. The man in front of him was an expert; he could tell from a few moments that the volume and weight didn't match.

He watched Vito walk away before looking around and, finding no one paying attention, hiding the damaged explosives under his buttocks.

This is the market in Dogtown; you can buy good stuff, but most of it is this kind of low-quality stuff that the vendors hype up.

Vito browsed the weapons market again. There were many military weapons here, but the prices were also quite high. A military-grade crusher with a slightly modified barrel could sell for several thousand here.

Upon hearing the price, Vito immediately put the gun back, fearing the shop owner might try to extort him if he couldn't sell it. He had acted like a rich man a few days ago, and now old Tom Massino was chasing him with an account book in one hand and a scale in the other.

He could tell that Tommasino had some old-fashioned blood in him, and had a pure love for being a creditor.

As soon as Vito put down his gun, a mercenary next to him readily took out his money and bought the Crusher. Now, Vito has become the clown.

The money from those small-time gangsters who go out to work in Dogtown is easy to make; even at such high prices, there's a market for these old guns with their nostalgic sentimentality.

The shopkeeper sized Vito up and down, as if trying to gauge whether the man had the money to buy anything. Luckily, Vito hadn't come to the shop to use the restroom, or the shopkeeper's gaze would have ripped Vito's bones out.

Vito then walked past a jumble of arcade machines, and suddenly he smelled the aroma of food. It was a real aroma, not because Vito's sense of smell had been ruined by smoking.

Following the aroma, I approached the stall, which turned out to be a Chinese fried noodle stall.

Vito's unpleasant memories suddenly flooded back.

He hesitated in front of the stall, wanting to try it but also afraid of being bombarded with fried noodles again.

"Give it a try, their noodles are amazing, I eat here every day."

At that moment, a young man with an Asian face walked past Vito and sat down at the stall.

"Boss! The usual!"

"Hey, isn't this Senji Kitsune? It's been a while since I've had noodles here."

"I've been busy processing orders lately, mostly food delivery."

"I heard from Zhang Qiang that I was worried you'd become someone else's loyal customer. Here, let me add a few more skewers for you."

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