Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 591 5. Small Mercenary Activity
The arrival of the Luan Dao Society was like a breeze passing over the lake, failing to cause even a ripple.

Rather, when the group of Random Swordsmen saw a transport truck parked here from afar and tried to approach, V had already pulled the trigger.

With a gunshot, the bullet cut through the air and landed precisely at their feet, as if announcing: This road is blocked.

And when the guys from the Luan Dao Society finally saw the figure standing next to the transport truck, their reaction was faster than the neon lights of Night City. The vehicle turned around almost in an instant, and the tires made a harsh sound when rubbing against the ground, as if they were fleeing from some indescribable fear.

This group of people from the Luandao Society did not recognize KK, the legendary figure who now moved easily between the top executives of the company and the top street figures, but they were too familiar with V.

The name V is well-known among the bottom gangs in Night City and has almost become a synonym for a taboo. If KK's image still needs to be confirmed through the images in the dream, then V's face, just a glance from a distance, is enough to make any gang member retreat.

Recently, the streets of Night City have been full of rumors that V has almost become synonymous with a murderer. Unlike KK's "reasonable" style, V's knife is merciless, and every swing carries a deadly chill and killing. The people of the Luan Dao Society know very well that when facing V, the best choice is to turn around and leave, the sooner the better.

After all, Night City is dangerous enough, and V's existence undoubtedly makes the danger even more unfathomable.

"Pity."

Jack's voice came from the back of Panam's car, with a hint of regret.

In his hand, he held an RPG that he had just taken out of the trunk, and his eyes still showed some excitement: "I wanted to try to shoot them."

"Come on." Carl waved his hand, with a hint of ridicule in his tone, "We might not even be able to make back our capital after killing a bunch of people whose most valuable possession is their modified car. You know their modified cars, and even I, an outsider who doesn't know much about cars, know that if someone else drives that car, it can be 'scrapped' and 'exploded' within an hour."

Carl paused and glanced at V, "Isn't this why V only fired a warning shot?"

V nodded. "The people in the Badlands are too poor."

"Coming from a former wanderer like you, these words are really convincing." Carl smiled and looked back at the smoke and dust that was gradually dissipating in the distance. His thoughts seemed to drift away, and he whispered, "The Luan Dao Society in the Bad Land is a bit like a wolf pack."

"Oh?" Jack raised his eyebrows, obviously interested in this.

"When they see a profitable place, they rush in and attack in groups; when they feel threatened, they flee, unwilling to bear even the slightest loss," Carl said. "The sad thing is, there is not even a place on their body where they can squeeze out any profit."

"This is also true."

Jack shrugged, stuffed the RPG back into the trunk, and dusted his hands off. "Forget it, they're gone anyway, so we don't have to waste ammunition."

Carl nodded and turned to Panam's car. He reached out from the driver's seat and took out the communicator. "There's no need to waste time on them. Contact Thor. The sandstorm is about to dissipate. Even the Luan Dao Society has smelled it. Thor and the others must be nearby."

As soon as the voice fell, there was a crackling sound of electricity coming from the communicator, followed by an intermittent voice: "VV, can you hear me? How are you guys doing over there? Can you hear me?"

"It's Panam." Carl glanced at V and threw the communicator over: "Come here, I'll clean it up."

"Pick up?" V took the communicator, raised his eyebrows, and followed Carl's movements. He saw him rummaging around in the car for a few times, and suddenly pulled out a ball of fur. "Ball? No." V was stunned for a moment, then reacted: "Johnny Silverhand? He's here this time too?"

Carl shrugged, with a hint of joking in his tone: "I guess he stuffed it in when he was loading the weapons. Mr. Johnny Silverhand has been as quiet as a mute all the way. I don't know what he is planning. I think the matter is almost done, so I'll take it out and show it to you."

"Stop touching me, kid." Johnny Silverhand's voice was filled with a hint of impatience. He waved his claws, and Carl let go. Johnny Silverhand fell from mid-air, landing firmly on all fours. His movements were extremely smooth, and it seemed that he had adapted well to this spherical body.

Then, a holographic projection of Johnny Silverhand emerged on the sand, still in that iconic posture—an illusory "electronic" cigarette between his fingers, with an unruly arrogance revealed in the smoke.

"I just came to see if I can save the lives of you rookies and settle my debt at the same time." Johnny Silverhand blew out a puff of "smoke" and said in a relaxed tone, "But it seems that you don't need my help at all."

V and Jack looked at each other and nodded tacitly. They had already figured out Johnny Silverhand's temper. This former rock star was extremely proud in his bones, and being in debt was simply a torture for him.

Judging from his appearance, he should have been planning to make a grand appearance at the critical moment, pay off his debts with a stunning rescue operation, and enjoy everyone's admiration. Unfortunately, the journey was smooth and he didn't have any chance at all.

"It seems that Mr. Johnny Silverhand can only see the scenery of the Bad Land this time."

"I've seen this scenery plenty of times when I was in the army. It's nothing compared to what I saw in the southern areas before."

Johnny Silver held a cigarette in his hand, and a flash of reminiscence flashed in his eyes, but it was soon replaced by the familiar rebelliousness. He shrugged at the three people, as if to say, "You are lucky."

"Heh." Carl was amused by Johnny Silverhand's appearance, and said with a hint of ridicule: "It seems that Mr. Johnny Silverhand is very confident. Do you think that when we can't handle it, you can show up and save the world?"

"Even in this state, I can still beat ten people by myself." Johnny Silverhand snorted coldly, his tone full of arrogance.

"That's quite a lot." Carl replied disapprovingly, his eyes turning to the distance. New smoke and dust were rising on the horizon, obviously Adecardo's convoy was approaching.

"Since Mr. Johnny Silverhand has said so, and I have never gotten along with you, I might as well take on some work." Carl lowered his head and pressed his phone, his fingers tapping on the screen quickly. "It just so happens that the follow-up of the previous task has been dealt with, so this time's help has come to an end."

He sent a message to the middlemen: "Any difficult work? Prepare the salary for two people. I plan to take some work and try out new people."

Johnny Silverhand saw everything clearly about Carl's cell phone operations.

He was holding a cigarette in his mouth, and although he didn't say anything, his eyes revealed a hint of disdain and a hint of expectation.

He actually had some understanding of this era and knew some of Carl and his friends' abilities, but he knew that Carl would never take on simple tasks.

But for him, the more difficult the job, the more opportunities he has to prove himself - even if he is now just a dog's body, he is still the omnipotent Johnny Silverhand.

It’s just a small mercenary job. Could it be harder than the two times he broke into Arasaka Tower?

(End of this chapter)