In Big Sur, the old gars who were working overti all night heard early on that soone was taking advantage of their absence to pressure the new players hard, even trying to rush their spawn point and camp the newcors' village.
How can they tolerate this? If it weren't for Big Sur being so far from Night City, there might have been a chance these people would fly back imdiately to settle it.
But the geographical issue can't be solved by sheer rage. After all, the ga doesn't have teleport points, taking the train requires more than half a day, and that's not counting the mountain roads of Big Sur, which ans it could take a day to get back to Night City.
So they could only settle for second best and let them vent in Cyberspace. It was considered a rehearsal for the future assault on the Old Net, a preliminary experint of virtual machine technology application.
The veteran players, with their previous experience in the Sea God's subnet skirmishes, took to it like ducks to water, picking up their weapons and charging at the Chaotic Blade Association's antivirus software, hackers.
It's a big win situation now; the hackers in number and quality have surpassed the Chaotic Blade Association. If they can't even leech experience now, they'd be wasting all these years of gaming.
Already dazed by the two groups of hackers, the local network underwent a drastic change, making it even harder for them to adapt.
A large number of antivirus programs were forcibly materialized into all sorts of bizarre, irregular objects, resembling the logos of their developnt companies.
But that's not important to the players; they only needed to know that it was ti for a massacre.
After multiple rounds of open testing and data collection, Lucy's hacker team attacked the solidified programs, making conventional attack thods for non-hacker regular players more diverse and complex.
Under the experintal virtual machine technology, their data bodies were 20% weaker than before. When the virtual machine dies, it could cause dizziness, nausea, and vomiting, but as long as they don't forcefully re-enter the Old Net and die a second ti, they would recover after a day's rest.
"Data body combat requires a data body's deanor!"
Natural Curl leapt high into the air, under the brain's urging, imagining an exhilarating BGM.
"Silver! Despair Badge, Super Evolution—Kakashi-mon!"
"You filthy adults, hurry up and apologize to the chosen kids!"
"Shut up! Aren't the so-called chosen kids just like the princesses I select at underground nightclubs?"
Natural Curl was boldly and confidently unreasonable.
"As long as I can lie in a beautiful girl's arms, I'm the purest baby in the world!!!"
"???"
Before Wig could react with a retort, Natural Curl rushed towards an antivirus program.
His expression seed as if he had a deep-seated hatred for the opponent.
"It's all your antivirus programs' fault! Your built-in Sisi pop-up ads lead to junk web gas when clicked, keep blocking my little apps and VPNs, can't even uninstall cleanly. Take this! Install Anyway, Ignoring Risks!"
The battle in Cyberspace was abstract yet intense, with the commotion affecting reality. The first issue to arise was the network connection.
The huge network fluctuations affected all the smart weapons and drones of the Chaotic Blade Association.
Not only did their accuracy drastically decrease, but the network latency shot up like crazy—probably 500-600 ping. It took several seconds for the ignition command to fire, and when the projectile was in the air, they couldn't correct its descent trajectory before it crashed to the ground and exploded.
The most unfortunate ones were those Chaotic Blade Association mbers who didn't disconnect in ti and got hit by viruses, so of which exploited firewall vulnerabilities and activated directly.
Their cyber-eye displays were flooded with unstoppable ad pop-ups and catchy phrases.
These were even kindly translated into English.
One Chaotic Blade Association mber, who was advancing with the main group to attack the tower crane base at the construction site, suddenly panicked, and his gun accidentally fired, almost hitting soone.
The enraged Chaotic Blade Association mber turned back and cursed,
"Shark's arm? What's gotten into you?"
"I... I don't know..."
The one who misfired felt very wronged.
"Suddenly, this big nose appeared, telling to go attack the sand with him, even asked to hack him..."
He wasn't the only one affected. So had even more pop-ups in their displays, with dense sound effects performing an exceptionally rhythmic crazy BGM known as Blue Blue Road.
The flood of pop-ups not only shocked them but also severely hindered their shooting view, with nurous ads significantly disrupting the shooting accuracy of Chaotic Blade Association mbers.
And those normal people who disconnected the network couldn't receive instructions from their superiors at the rear, either halting in place, afraid to charge, or running around like headless flies.
For a mont, the attack formation of the Chaotic Blade Association was in complete disarray, with many not knowing what to do or where to go.
The nomadic tribes functioned like familial organizations, and joining their ranks required acknowledging a patriarch, to which the Chaotic Blade Association was no exception.
ngste was a team leader in the Skin family under the Chaotic Blade Association, in charge of six or seven lackeys.
According to previous orders from above, they launched an attack on a storage site south of the construction site after the artillery bombardnt ended.
It started smoothly, but with the onset of network attacks, although they disconnected in ti, they were left blind and deaf.
In the network age, with the convenience of software, many have beco chanical components, knowing only to follow programd orders. Their subjective initiative is practically zero.
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