"BOSS!!"
A few players who were farther away and less injured cried and rushed toward the office that had been blown into ruins as soon as they ca to their senses.
They frantically clawed at the rubble with their hands, their tears mingling with their cries, as if their parents were buried underneath, evoking deep sympathy from onlookers.
Soon, not only the players but also nearby residents, police, firefighters, rcenaries, corporate dogs, and agents joined the rescue excavation operation.
Of course, those who ca later were not motivated by any desire to save people; they were purely hoping to see if they could dig up any confidential docunts or server hard drives from the office ruins.
Moreover, after a brief shock, many began to feel sothing was amiss with this incident.
But that's no longer important.
Whether soone died is secondary; the fact that the Cuba Drug Trafficking Group used missiles to attack the U.S. president is a foregone conclusion.
Whether soone wants to fra the Cubans by eliminating Miles, or whether the Cubans themselves are dood, it doesn't matter.
The Cubans will have to repay this debt; even the European Community won't be able to interfere. Otherwise, Military Technology and the New Arica Governnt might as well go back to Mars, as Earth is very dangerous.
However, not everyone has such ulterior motives; more people were purely driven by emotion to rush to the ruins and vigorously move those building fragnts.
"NO! NO! NO! NO!"
Wildman was sowhat surprised to see the Night City NPC beside him. The big, burly man's face was filled with anxiety, and the debris he kept grabbing was cutting his palms, causing continuous bleeding. But even so, the NPC showed no sign of stopping, becoming more and more forceful, and even shed tears.
And he was not alone; there were many like him working more vigorously than the players.
Wildman couldn't help but be curious and asked,
"Why are you crying?"
The man wiped his tears and stopped only after seeing it was a Horizon rcenary.
"We already knew."
He gritted his teeth and said,
"Mr. Lin is a good person; he gave us jobs and took care of our health. But good people in Night City don't live long. It must be those companies who did it; they've long disliked Mr. Lin."
Angry flas burned in the man's eyes, and he wasn't the only one.
Over the past six months, everyone had been watching Horizon Corporation's actions.
Not only did the company receive Lin Miao's benevolence, but the common people in Night City, especially in the Santo Domingo and Taiping Continent districts, benefited the most.
Unlike those radical leftists of the past, he didn't seize money from the company to distribute but instead expanded the pie, feeding the company and leaving surplus to distribute, silencing everyone. Even if soone saw what Lin Miao was up to, they wouldn't speak up.
The common people may be ignorant and easy to incite, but they are never stupid. They clearly know who treats them well.
If they were to dig up Lin Miao's shattered body from the ruins, these people might very well beco the next batch of anti-corporate activists. On a larger scale, soone might carry explosives to destroy the 'suspect' company tonight, or on a smaller scale, they could beco a dormant bomb ready to explode at any ti.
Everything Lin Miao and the players did was never in vain.
Persistent effort will eventually bear fruit.
Wildman, feeling touched, couldn't help but say to the man,
"Rest assured, our BOSS is all-powerful; one missile won't kill him."
Saying that, he moved to another spot and lifted a hefty stone slab weighing several tons with his arms,
"Start digging here; I just heard BOSS's cry for help."
He rembered this was right at the entrance to the bar's basent. If there were any place left in the bombed-out office where soone could survive and hide, it would be here.
"Really? But I didn't hear anything."
The man and those around him were skeptical.
"Do you think I'd lie to you? It's our BOSS buried under there. If he dies, there won't be anyone to pay us."
Perhaps because Wildman hadn't died for too long this ti, his current face was sowhat well-known on this street. Along with more and more players gathering around him to dig, the citizens gradually began to believe his words and started digging earnestly.
Even though excluding them would an the players could dig faster, the emotional feedback from the NPCs made the players feel very gratified.
And directly beneath them, in the basent bar, originally Lucy's data room, a perfectly intact Lin Miao and 'Miles' could hear the increasingly close sounds of excavation above.
"Mr. President... It's okay for to call you that, right?"
Lin Miao hesitated sowhat because he knew the person in front of him was actually an Intelligence Bureau agent wearing a Miles facade, with a disguise cyber-implant similar to Aguirre's, occasionally standing in for Miles in risky situations, akin to a shadow dancer.
The risk of this mission was so great that Miles certainly couldn't risk his life by coming personally.
A body double is a useful thing, but Lin Miao couldn't find anyone else capable of disguising as him in front of everyone.
"No problem, call whatever you want."
'Miles' pulled out a case of cold beer from the wine storage, took a bottle, and tossed it to Lin Miao, acting as if she were the owner here, with habits different from the Miles Lin Miao had encountered before.
Lin Miao placed the beer aside without drinking it and said,
"When we get out later, we can't look this clean; even actors need makeup to get into character."
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