Players Invade Cyberpunk-Chapter 751 - 242: Does That Smell Seem Right? (Part 2)

He patted the other person on the shoulder again while speaking.

"Do your best, I have a new channel that can connect to the Europeans. When the time comes to sell this batch to Europe, you'll definitely get your share."

The underling was excited beyond belief, as if he could already see himself swimming in piles of cash tomorrow.

"Got it, don't worry boss, I'll arrange for the guys to take care of them right away."

However, after stepping out, his excited expression quickly cooled down, completely hiding any signs of the previous excitement for money, and he contacted others shortly after walking away.

"Hmm... he didn't fall for it and wants to pin this matter on the Cleaner. What do we do now?"

"Hmph... using someone else's knife to kill..."

On the other end of the line, Gago wasn't surprised that Rorschach didn't blindly crash into Horizon Corporation's mercenaries. Anyway, he had already seen through it; that group of crazies showed up in Dog Town clearly looking for someone to vent their anger on.

Whether it's the Netherworld Dog, Rorschach, or the Cleaner, those guys don't care who the target is or what identity they have, they just grab and exploit whoever they can, without concern for the cost.

The gangs of all Night City have been offended by this group of maniacs, even daring to collide with Huang Ban's Ganbi Mansion, yet relying on brute strength, they have forced everyone to temporarily yield.

"Let them be; as long as those guys are in Long Beach for even a day, tranquility is impossible."

Might as well use others to diminish those guys' power, Gago doesn't want those Netherworld Dog soldiers clashing head-on with those maniacs.

Although Gago isn't particularly loyal to Hansen, it's the existence of Netherworld Dog that affirms his value; if Netherworld Dog falls, he will too.

Hanging up the phone, Gago looked towards Hansen, who was negotiating terms with the Voodoo Gang.

The other was standing in front of a robot, inspecting this standard-issue armed machine.

This robot had a very conventional design, honestly quite unremarkable; simply humanoid limbs with weapons installed on both hands, the NCPD used this model.

From Hansen's war experience, this thing was utterly useless; the balancing legs could be kicked off with one foot, and any slightly complex terrain might cause it to trip, with mobility issues and insufficient firepower, it had very few advantages while its shortcomings were glaringly obvious.

In comparison, Hansen actually favored the two new robot models recently launched by Horizon Corporation, with modular multifunctionality and not constrained to humanoid shapes.

He then looked towards the blind man seated in the hacker's chair.

"My Netherworld Dog isn't like those pretentious performance troupes; we don't need such superficial stuff, can you provide something real?"

Saying this, he pulled out several design diagrams and sent them to the blind man, emphasizing.

"I hope your system can massively control these things, rather than those song and dance robots."

Discussing this topic angered Hansen, encountering the same situation Donald Randy did back then or facing it repeatedly.

New America's army was heavily equipped with military tech weapon systems; regardless of their quality, would rank soldiers dare rate military tech weapons poorly?

The answer is no, even if you complain to your superiors about the weapons being inadequate, they won't care.

Do you know how much tax revenue Military Tech provides to New America annually?

Do you know the cost of recalling all the produced weapons for redesigning, producing, and upgrading?

Do you know how much your life is worth?

No, you don't, all you know is that these things will get you killed on the battlefield.

Yet the life of a dual-footed multifunctional amphibian is worthless compared to the wallets of the congressmen.

Slipstream's visual nerves were burned out years ago; he didn't even bother to install prosthetic eyes to witness this shoddy shitty world, opting instead to immerse himself in cyberspace earning Orokin.

He glanced nonchalantly at the design diagrams Hansen sent, one being a quadruped robot roughly human-sized as per the design, while the other was the peak creation once hyped by Military Tech—war machine Chimera.

"I know what you're thinking, Colonel, but it's impossible; you can't afford this cost."

Slow-moving bubble text appeared without haste, and although he couldn't see the person before him, he could still pinpoint the other's location through data transmission, adjusting the hacker chair slightly before addressing Hansen.

"Currently, the control systems for these humanoid robots rely on action data info collected from human brains, and several hackers have to be stationed to patrol to ensure normal operation; other companies do the same, and this is the safest process currently."

After all the roundabouts, the issue the cyber world can never avoid comes back.

"Overly complex programs lead to an increase in data convergence, significantly raising the chance of AI birth."

"The control core for Chimera produced by Military Tech runs independently, and the plug-ins installed can be said to be astronomical; I estimate each machine needs at least millions of Orokin to prevent AI birth, are you sure you can afford this price?"

"Then why can Horizon Corporation and Delaman?"

Hansen was unwilling to let go, having seen AI himself; Military Tech still held several old AI preserved from the collapse before the old Internet age, continuing to run.

"Because they're unafraid of death, or perhaps someone has already paid the price."

This AI Delaman directly eliminated the board members and took over the company. Only because it behaved extremely obediently and had backing did Internet Supervisor not obliterate it.