[Super Balloon Truth Departnt] waved the banner, and the [Super Balloon Good Buddies] and [Super Balloon Propaganda Departnt] imdiately flipped out rocket launchers from the car.
Ever since a Resident made a fortune with this trick last ti, rocket launchers have beco an essential for newbie players going out to scavenge.
What if we hit sothing?
But without the assistance of skilled players, for those targets hundreds of ters away, little players with no military training struggle—they throw loads of cash but get little return.
Nevertheless, they are still eager and begin to try modifying the rocket, changing from impact-triggered to tid fuses.
The danger has increased significantly, but the players don’t care.
Especially the Super Balloon-style players.
With a shout—fire!
Two rockets flew out trailing smoke.
They carried the managed democracy of the Super Balloon and made a mark in this world!
The rocket’s fuse was ignited the mont the trigger was pulled.
The quality rate of the players’ hand-made products is worriso; keeping explosion distance errors within fifty ters is nothing short of divine grace.
Yet this ti, the shockwave from the second rocket explosion barely grazed the garbage truck’s side.
The vehicle shook violently, causing one of its corner engines to malfunction, unable to start just like a car’s gasoline engine.
The vehicle’s balance malfunctioned, spiraling down towards a specific spot on the trash mountain.
A good buddy, seeing that they actually brought down a hovercar, mouthed slightly, dropped the rocket launcher from his shoulder, and ran like mad towards the crash site while shouting,
"Damn it, long live the Super Balloon! The General Who Doesn’t Poop has made an apparition!!!"
The Propaganda Departnt and the Truth Departnt opened their mouths wide, paused for several seconds, and then joined in the cheer, before sprinting off, their legs almost leaving trailing shadows.
"Detected an attack on Drone JCF-71."
The garbage truck, crashed on the ground, still futilely sounded its alarm.
"Warning! Warning! Unauthorized personnel, do not approach company property!"
"Warning! Warning! Attacking company property will be considered theft, robbery... among twenty-two offenses under Night City criminal law..."
The garbage truck’s words are nonsense; the companies created a lawless world and yet try to bind others with laws they themselves don’t follow.
This is probably a common problem for them, hoping others abide by the law while they gain massive profits through violations and illegal ans.
They want both ways.
The players couldn’t care less; what they bring down is theirs, even if the king cos, it’s useless.
As for the garbage truck’s alarm, that’s purely the futile resistance before it succumbed to being tornted.
Haha, here, even if you shout until you’re hoarse, no one will rescue you; wait till my hamr hits, you’ll be begging the boy to co and play like a little rocking car.
"Quick, dismantle, be careful not to blow up the engine."
There’s already a tutorial on the ga’s official website, teaching players how to safely and effectively remove engines from dumpsters.
Though Mantou doesn’t want to handle such dangerous duties, players love tinkering.
After abandoning any considerations for safety, all they’re left with is ideas.
Just when they finished removing the engine and fuel tank and were about to leave, the Truth Departnt suddenly thought of rummaging through the dumpster.
What if there’s sothing good inside?
Tales and rumors of overnight riches from trash mountains have never stopped.
"Hey, wait up, let search again."
Stopped two criminal partners ready to flee, then found an iron rod and rcilessly shoved it into the hatch underneath the garbage truck.
"Lend a hand."
"One, two, three!"
Bam!
The hatch couldn’t withstand their miraculous strength and deford, its contents spilling everywhere.
As the garbage rolled toward the mountain, the Truth Departnt caught a silver glimr in the trash.
Exclaid: "Looks like we hit a jackpot!"
They rolled down the mountain with the garbage, searching inside for a while.
"Wow, a dead man..."
The Propaganda Departnt, ignoring the stench, hoisted half a cyborg’s body from the dical waste.
"All the cybernetic parts have been stripped... Bad luck."
A good buddy also saw another body, but most cybernetic parts had been stripped, not even cybernetic eyes remained, just a hollow main torso, worth little.
"No... this one seems alive..."
While holding it, the Propaganda Departnt actually felt a very faint heartbeat.
"What the...?"
Good buddy was also shocked, hurriedly lifting his own find and listened to the chest, indeed still showing life signs.
The trio was dumbfounded; usually, a single chop would an death, but now they showed such strong life signs?
"What do we do?"
"How should I know?"
The trio was speechless; they regretted opening this box.
Leaving them here would be unsettling.
Taking them back would be troubleso.
After thinking for a long ti, they decided to bring them back.
Not for any hidden mission, just felt it wouldn’t be right leaving otherwise.
Even because the four removed engines occupied the last space in the trunk, the Truth Departnt and the Propaganda Departnt had to hold one each and sat in the back.
It was at this mont of disdain, back at the Stone Ridge Mountain Town while settling the quests, that they barely missed cradling the half-dead like an Oscar trophy in front of the players.
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