Players Invade Cyberpunk-Chapter 750 - 242: Does That Taste Work?

"Why are you talking about these things with a shop owner?"

As soon as they left the shop, Brother Ni, who originally planned to check out any good stuff at the local weapons shop, was curious about the things the big guy said to the female shop attendant earlier.

"Aren't you afraid I'll go tell Sister Weiwei and make you wash dishes for a month?"

Facing such a life-threatening threat, the big guy was particularly dismissive.

As if not telling her would mean I wouldn't have to wash dishes.

"What do you know, this is called business."

Brother Ni: "She doesn't even know you, why would she do business with you, and besides, it's not even certain if she's the owner. You really need to work on your flirting skills."

Without proper smuggling channels, players at most rely on driving into town to bring water in.

Even if each of them has a car, how much can they really bring in?

This kind of behavior doesn't make much money and is a waste of time. No one really cares about a mercenary's drunken talk.

Although no one says it outright, everyone understands this logic.

But since the big guy hangs around the fish market, even if he doesn't participate in customs smuggling, he knows more than others.

So he explained in detail,

"In the past, the vendors in the fish market had rules about which farm to get supplies from and which stall to buy from. If you got supplies from the wrong place, you wouldn't even be allowed in, and if you're caught, your stall would be flipped over."

"And to prevent buyers from making false claims, each group's people would patrol the market, checking how much you sold by the end of the day..."

Fish spoils quickly once it dies, unlike other meat that can be processed and tampered with in many ways.

Water-soaked ropes for tying crabs, water-filled bags for the fish, high-tech scales, false weights with innards...magnets are just small tricks.

"So I don't care if she's the owner or not, as long as someone hears what I say."

Every bar has drunk customers flirting with the waitresses. If they're willing to pay, fine, but if there's trouble and a waiter gets hit, the bouncers are sure to deal with it.

Only now did the other three realize what the big guy was trying to do in the bar earlier.

Potato was particularly shocked, stepping forward to ruffle the big guy's hair as if looking for something inside.

"Did you secretly install some brain implants to boost your intelligence? Or were you possessed by a rogue AI from the Old Net?"

"Actually, we've never discriminated against you and Wildman's intelligence stats, there's no need to force yourself."

"Get lost! Or I'll freakin' mess you up."

"Alright, looks like it's still the original version."

Potato's tone was full of regret, as he really hoped the guy in front of him was a fake so he'd have an excuse to beat him up.

The game's stat distribution seems random, and intelligence and IQ are two different things. A score of 3 is within normal range, but that doesn't stop other players from mocking certain people for having an intelligence of 3.

It's just that the big guy's looks lead to more bias about his intelligence than others.

At this point, Brother Ni exchanged a glance with Wildman, then said,

"I'll go find a place to take a leak. You guys go ahead, I'll catch up right away."

This game's depth and breadth are almost incomparable. Any NPC on the main street can theoretically give a task, depending on the players' skills and initiative.

Most are probably just small errands, with rewards of only a few dollars, maybe even tasks that violate game rules.

There is only one exception.

Players are professionals at baiting.

Poor-acting like a naive and innocent fool can now outclass young actors.

So soon, Long Beach Waste Yard suddenly had seven or eight guys tirelessly pushing new channels of drinking water to local vendors, though unfortunately, they were all rejected, with no vendor willing to stock the cheaper water from players.

The only surprising thing was that, apart from mentioning the female owner of Moth Bar, no one brought up Rorschach's name. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

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Just as Rorschach was secretly pleased for finding a new way to make money in the basement assembly line, he suddenly got some bad news from one of his lackeys.

Someone was coming to steal business, and they dared to sell purified water right on his turf. Isn't this a blatant provocation?

But with a cautious attitude, Rorschach still looked at the lackey who had followed him for over ten years and asked seriously,

"Do you know where these guys came from? Have you found out the details?"

If it's the Netherworld Dog or Cleaner looking to get into this business, then he might have to "grit his teeth and lay low."

The lackey leaned closer to the boss's ear and replied in a low voice,

"I've checked, they have no background, just a bunch of reckless newbies who came into Dog Town today for business. They haven't even heard of you, boss, and didn't bring guns. It's obvious they're just amateurs."

"Phew..."

Rorschach's initial tense guard instantly relaxed, though something still felt off.

Would someone daring enough to smuggle things into Dog Town really be an inexperienced rookie?

They might have something big hiding behind them, but letting these people go wasn't an option either. After all, this was a territory he'd managed for years, no way was he handing it over to anyone else.

He snapped his fingers, signaling the lackey to come closer.

"Here's the plan, gather a few people, go inform Cleaner that I have a new batch of goods, and have them take these people out. Make sure Cleaner takes care of the bodies too, don't leave any loose ends."