Players Invade Cyberpunk-Chapter 814 - 263: This Is No Ordinary Gang—It’s Time for a Heavy Strike

Have you ever seen Night City at four in the morning?

I don't know who's asking this dumb question, but in Night City, ten out of ten have seen it. Most have watched it all night long. Working for 36 hours straight is just routine for office workers. Dusk is peak crime time, and the club calls keep echoing from dusk till dawn. Even if their crotches have probably been mechanically modified and feel nothing, their acting skills rival those of top-tier actors.

And Horizon Corporation is no exception, with dozens of large garbage collection trucks parked in a massive warehouse on the outskirts of Santo Domingo.

Drivers and workers dine at the factory a few minutes early, waiting to start work.

Every day at four in the morning, they drive these garbage collection trucks around Night City to collect waste and then transport it to Night City's dump for sorting and recycling.

Dealing with garbage seems utterly disgraceful from the outside world, but only the staff know it's not only easy, but also not as dirty as one might imagine.

Not only are the tools comprehensive, but they also have robotic assistance. Under normal circumstances, there's no direct contact with household waste. Comprehensive protective measures are in place to prevent touching toxic needles or corrosive liquids.

It's said to be a 14-hour workday, but there's a one-hour lunch break and three hours of skill training in the afternoon. The monthly salary is 800 base plus performance, usually not lower than 1500—not high, but they don't deduct under the guise of taxes, insurance, fines, or meal fees.

If you had to point out any issues, it's the rigid rules, stringent surveillance, and rumors that the cafeteria meals are actually drug experiments.

Otherwise, why do the mercenaries taking goods from the warehouse never eat the chocolate-fried pork or orange-flavored jelly buns? There must be something wrong inside!

Malicious speculations and rumors exist both inside and out, but the staff have to admit, working at Horizon Corporation doesn't come with that soul-crushing oppression.

Many things that applicants can't accept in other companies, like physical castration of reproductive functions and potent supplements, aren't in Horizon Corporation's contracts.

Likewise, there's no mandatory performance evaluation here. Work depends entirely on your own initiative. Every three months there's a career development expectations and skills assessment. If you agree to participate and pass, you can choose your future career development path and participate in relevant skill training (not available for the financial department).

With not-so-high work pressure and perhaps existing development prospects along with a decent salary, even if there really might be some biological experiments, everyone gradually accepts it. At least life is gradually moving upwards.

Clara, wearing work clothes, stood at the cafeteria's meal pickup area, speaking to the bearded man behind the counter.

"I'll have two citrus lava buns and one serving of pineapple bacon wraps."

The cafeteria meals are all pre-made meals from the processing plant and then uniformly sent to each cafeteria to be heated. The weekly meal diversity depends on what new thing the research center players have come up with. Anything too bizarre will get employee complaints, and the developers will have to eat it all themselves.

"Is that for your son again?"

The bearded man swiftly packed the meal for her, with one more wrap in the box.

"This..."

"The extra one's on me. You only eat half your meal daily. The others don't notice?"

"Thanks, mostly because the outside stuff isn't safe..."

Compared to the disgusting food reported on outside, Horizon Corporation's factory can expose the entire process. No matter what's added in, at least the process looks clean.

The bearded man asked again, "Have you decided on your career expectations?"

Clara, somewhat embarrassed, said, "Well... I want to work as a caregiver at ERO."

Not just the two of them, but discussions about this topic have been everywhere in the cafeteria lately.

Caregiver—Nurse—Head Nurse...

The biggest difference between Horizon Corporation and other companies is a clear upward path. As long as you pass the assessment, you can move on to the internship stage, no need to slog away at seniority or engage in post jockeying and cunning competition with others.

No matter how much you ostracize others, if you fail the assessment, you can only stay at your original post.

And garbage truck drivers being able to change career paths to become caregivers at ERO, that was unimaginable before.

The feeling of embarrassment had transformed into a budding inner confidence with a deeper understanding of Horizon Corporation, and workers' faces showed an expectation for future life.

However, the seemingly beautiful future in Night City often becomes a fragile dream that shatters into pieces.

"There's a gang making trouble!"

There were furious roars and chaotic curses from the factory perimeter, which were all suppressed by a gunshot.

The factory workers were drawn to the gate, only to see a large group of gang members blockading the front and back entrances.

They were carrying paint buckets, dung buckets, or garbage, smearing and scribbling on the factory gate's walls and roads, making workers boil with rage. But the gang cars parked on the street had weapons displayed, and someone revealed combat cyberware, making taunting gestures at the workers inside.

Were it not for the automatic machine guns at the gate already on alert, they would have charged through the gates without hesitation.

"Listen up!"

A Sixth Street Gang official wearing a cowboy hat shouted into the megaphone to all the workers inside the factory.