The scavengers upstairs engaged in a firefight with the players were still unaware that the penned-up sheep had been released.
"Damn it, have we figured out who hit us? How many people are there?"
Oster was still in the dark, ready to admit it was the Sixth Street Gang or any other faction, even if it was the Trauma Team.
The problem was that this group wore ordinary clothes, their affiliation unknown, and they struck without a word, fiercely attacking, tossing bullets and grenades like they were free.
Mainly because they’ve made enemies with so many people, anyone has a reason to target scavengers, but they survive by being ruthless and broke; anyone who can’t make it might turn into a scavenger or their channel, there’s no end to killing them.
A fellow nearby was just as confused, "I have no idea."
"Don’t you think you should ask?"
Feeling bullets whizzing over his head, he grimaced, saying:
"Judging by the gunfire, I’d say there are over ten, and honestly, boss, even if we asked, it wouldn’t help; it’s most likely rcenaries hired specifically to hit us."
In a way, this fellow guessed correctly; indeed there was soone hired to co after them.
"Hell, they really think I’m just here for free als, huh?"
Oster gritted his teeth and shouted:
"Retreat! Tell the brothers to escape through the sewers, forget those sheep, where there’s life, there’s hope."
Sneak and retreat is a four-word skill of the scavengers; the interconnected sewers are their ho.
In terms of combat ability, they’re no match for the big gangs, they survive purely by numbers and the environnt of Night City.
Yet, not long after he gave the order, the rear stairwell echoed with intense gunfire and the screams of the fellows.
Another fellow dashed up from downstairs, rolling and crawling to Oster’s side.
"What happened now?"
"Boss, those sheep were let loose and they’ve blocked our retreat path."
"What! What about surveillance? The patrol below? What’s Valencia doing, I paid him so much, just to watch the show?"
Oster was jumping with anxiety, there were hackers and surveillance systems in place, yet they didn’t even know when a rat entered their ho.
At least they knew now that the enemy was here to save people.
"Valencia’s brain got fried by the opposing hacker, he’s dead."
Having served as a hacker ntor at the firm, Lin Miao naturally wouldn’t let Lucy use a basic white-board access pod.
Even if top-grade military equipnt wasn’t available, spending ten thousand for custom blue and purple gear and so implants was doable, upgrading later if needed.
Speaking of the ntor series at the firm, it’s quite specialized, temporarily relying on training chips from Huang Ban, Lin Miao was pondering where to recruit trustworthy people to serve as ntors for the players.
Lucy, equipped with upgraded gear, started to show her true abilities; even in the Phoenix Club those days, she felt confident facing Huang Ban hackers head-on, much less dealing with a scavenger hacker now.
No big deal.
Black doctors went mad, hackers perished, the sheep escaped, and they were attacked on both sides; the chaos at the base overwheld Oster.
The thrill of catching two pri sheep earlier was totally ruined.
Gripping his shotgun tightly, anger flared even more in his heart.
Damn it, I’m taking you all down!
Hiding behind cover, Oster yelled at the advancing players:
"Yo, guys over there, let’s talk this out, you’ve saved the people, you’ve lost a few too, keeping this up benefits no one. How about we each take a step back, you leave with the people, we act like nothing happened, maybe we could even work together in the future."
The players heard the voice inside, exchanging glances.
Potato: "...What did he say?"
Brother Dao: "He says he wants a ceasefire and cooperation, sounds like the plot’s at a branching point; stopping may lead to future deals with the scavengers."
Bighead: "Sounds like potential, I recall there’s no modification pod in town to recycle bodies and implants, working with scavengers might allow that?"
Poor Warrior looked serious: "What do you guys think, should we stop? With a bunch of traffickers."
After a while, Oster received a unanimous reply from the players:
"Scavenger, damn your ancestors, give us a clear answer, will you surrender or not?"
Partnering with those inhuman traffickers from Myawaddy, isn’t that lowering our firm’s standards?
Those who won’t surrender must die!
Ultimately, only despair remained for the scavengers.
Because any creature that gets hurt will feel pain, fear, or show vulnerability.
But players don’t experience such feelings.
They attack relentlessly until their life signs stop, until they are truly dead.
Unfortunately, here was Oster, not Ote or Ultraman Ace, so no one could defeat the players.
The two waves of players attacked from both sides, leaving the scavengers in disarray.
In the bullet-ridden base, one scavenger after another dropped to the ground, their heads shattered upon being shot.
The iron plates and color steel tiles used as partitions were covered in blood-soaked bullet holes.
As for who was the boss, the players who were killing wildly couldn’t feel it at all, nor did they have the ti to care; they only thought these guys were weaker than the Tigerclaw they encountered days ago, about the sa level as the Night Wanderers.
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