Cyberpunk: 2075

“KK.”

Meredith Stout called Carl’s name in the mercenary industry, looked at him, and controlled her calm expression: “You are late.”

“I am late by one minute and twenty-two seconds. Sorry, something happened on the way here. It took me some time to get another taxi.”

Standing in the wilderness of the Badlands, Carl looked at Meredith and the dozen or so military technology agents around her and apologized sincerely.

As a mercenary on a mission, being late for a mission is a big mistake, so it is natural to say it.

“Something happened on the way...

Meredith looked at Carl, who actually apologized to them and looked quite easy to talk to, not like a famous mercenary at all, and just received the latest intelligence from the inside of military technology.

"A gang fight broke out in the city center, with 14 members of the Whirlpool Gang and the Tiger Claw Gang involved, affecting more than 30 civilians and four vehicles. Because they attacked the mercenary KK who was passing by in an armed taxi during the retreat, all members died and no one survived.'

When Meredith received this message, the other military technology agents following her also received this latest intelligence.

They looked at this information, and then looked at Carl who was smiling and embarrassed in front of them, and silently suppressed the relaxed mood, and by the way, regained the fear that arose because of the name of K.

The expression on her face almost changed because of the message she received, but in the end, because of her identity, Meredith, who tried her best to control her expression, nodded slightly, as if she understood Carl's apology:

"Since it was an accident, forget it."

Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned around and gestured to Carl at the vehicle behind them: "Have you seen this kind of car? "

Carl followed Meredith's signal and looked behind them. After a brief identification, he roughly recognized the model of the four parked freight trucks.

He was not as proficient in vehicles as Jack and the others, but he was more or less influenced by them. As long as it was not a modified car, it was not difficult for him to recognize it.

"Is it the latest freight truck of Villefort? I remember the name is 'Columbus V340-F Freight'?"

"Yes, Villefort's most economical and popular model."

Meredith said: "This is also the car we will take next."

"Use this freight truck to intercept goods in the wilderness?"

Carl was a little confused. There is definitely no problem for such a transport truck to run in the bad land, but would it be a bit inappropriate to intercept goods?

"This car is used to approach."

Meredith explained: "The real responsible person is the wanderer tribe. We just use it to approach the transport team and set up communication jammers."

Carl understood.

"In other words, we have to disguise ourselves as a truck that is also carrying goods in the Badlands, and when we get close enough, we will activate the device to disrupt the Arasaka transport team's communication and request for help, and then let the wanderers drive other cars to take action?"

"And make up for it when an accident happens."

Meredith said, and her men had already opened the cargo trunks of four vehicles and got in a group of people.

"Do you want to sit in the driver's seat with me, or in the trunk?"

The trunk of this kind of truck is quite wide. It was originally a place to store a lot of goods. After a little modification by Meredith and her subordinates, it has become a small troop transporter. It is naturally no problem to accommodate Carl. However, Carl looked at the standard two-seater car and did not intend to squeeze into the trunk after all.

"I'll just sit in the front passenger seat."

"Then you and I will share a car."

Meredith originally planned to sit in the front passenger seat and let her subordinates drive, but since Carl planned to sit in the front, she would naturally be the only one responsible for driving the vehicle. The others looked so fearful that if Carl coughed, they might shake their hands and overturn the vehicle.

"Move that thing over here."

At the signal of Meredith, the military technology agent moved two large boxes from the Columbus in the front and placed them next to Carl and Meredith.

"Let's make a disguise. We are still too obvious."

"Is this a combat uniform?"

Carl looked at the things revealed in the opened box and saw something from the heavy protection and logo: "Why is it Arasaka's clothes? Judging from the style, it is used by elite soldiers in Night City. You can actually get this."

"This style of clothes was drawn by Arasaka designers in Night City and submitted to the company. When the people above reviewed it, the whole design drawing was already on the table of our company's special operations department."

"Your spies are really amazing."

Carl had to admire the ability of Arasaka and Military Technology, who are always at loggerheads, to trip each other up.

It's true that your enemy knows you best.

He thought of a joke.

How do you resist Arasaka's corporate rule?

Find Military Technology.

What about resisting Military Technology?

Find Arasaka.

In silence, Carl checked the clothes and made sure that there were no hidden grenades or traps stuffed inside, and then put on the whole set of clothes with a helmet.

The clothes of the elite soldiers of Arasaka have bulletproof inserts, and the fabric is also made of special protective fibers. Together with the bulletproof vest that Carl is wearing, the multi-layer protection gives Carl a very thick sense of security.

Although Carl knows that such protection can only protect ordinary kinetic pistols at best, and cannot stop the bullets of the Nekomata sniper rifle even if they are not charged, but the habitual idea that heavy armor equals high protection still makes Carl feel inexplicably invulnerable.

And this sense of invulnerability did not last long.

Because soon Carl felt a sense of restraint and hysteresis due to the weight of the clothes.

The feeling is not very strong. For ordinary people, it is probably the feeling of wearing a diving suit. This is already incredibly lightweight for the design of combat uniforms, but for Carl, this little sense of hysteresis is enough to determine whether he can quickly eliminate the enemy.

Carl soon understood the reason for this sense of hysteresis.

The flesh is not enough, and his speed is dragged down by the body.

Carl, who got dressed and sat in the passenger seat, had already thought about his next prosthesis.

He had to consider leg prosthesis.

Maybe the bones and joints of the legs could be replaced like the arms...,