Players Invade Cyberpunk-Chapter 831 - 268: The Art of Life (Part 3)

Lin Miao nodded and asked again,

"So should I thank you?"

"No need to thank me."

"Ah!"

Lin Miao slapped his forehead.

"I remember who you are now." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

The familiar technique of carving flesh, the same intense aversion to prosthetics, and again in the Watson District.

Although you haven't resorted to cannibalism yet, you're probably not far off.

"Could you be... the bishop?"

"It seems Mr. Lin, your memory is quite impressive. What should I call you? Batman Bruce Wayne?"

"Playing a comic character from the last century, Mr. Lin, you really have a sense of humor."

"When it comes to humor, I'm still a bit behind you guys. It's 2076, and you're still dabbling in underground spooky stuff."

"Haha, it's just an excuse. No one believes those things. I don't, they don't, but everyone pretends they do, like opera actors on a stage, where everyone is both an audience member and an actor."

No matter where you look, there are countless cults around the world. Maybe ordinary people believe in them because they've been deceived, because the cost of entry was too high and they have to hypnotize themselves to believe.

But for those officials and celebrities, their involvement in cults has nothing to do with the deity above them. They're just leveraging this network, and newcomers use it as an excuse to join, hoping to be supported by their predecessors.

They are very clear about their goals and the price of achieving them.

"That's what I don't understand."

The thing Lin Miao feels most guilty about in all his dealings is the Watson District incident. He doesn't dare dig deeper because he's afraid of exposing flaws and being found out.

With just the photos taken from the player's point of view, if Lin Miao wanted to, he could take those to the city council or major corporations' leadership circles in Night City to match people one by one accurately.

Why doesn't he do it?

He's simply too afraid.

He knows very well what matters he can touch and what matters he absolutely can't—at least not now.

Like fighting gangs; why does Horizon Corporation wear a Military Science coat and dare to hit the Sixth Street Gang?

Isn't he afraid Military Science will flip and cause him trouble?

NO!

Because on the surface, it's Horizon Corporation hitting the Sixth Street Gang, but in reality, it's the New American government hitting Military Science.

If someone really wanted to cause trouble for Lin Miao, there would naturally be someone at the forefront to shield him.

But if the Watson District affair is uncovered, people will truly die; at least Lin Miao will die miserably, and not even New America can save him.

Since that day, Lin Miao has barely taken action himself, even sponsoring Exchange Coupons to act as his Batman. If someone really had to die, it would be him instead.

"Did you come alone from Biotech? Or do you want to call the others out to chat?"

As if seeing through Lin Miao's thoughts, Benjamin, while taking photos of his artistic work, said,

"Don't worry, Mr. Lin, I haven't told anyone about this. It's just me here, and I only represent myself—not Biotech or Soviet Petrochemical."

Yeah, right.

"And yet you had two Cuban hitmen intercept me midway; aren't you afraid I'll die on you?"

"If you really died at Aguirre's hands, it would only mean Kangtao misjudged you. For me, it wouldn't be any loss."

"So why did you seek me out? It can't be to have me here appreciating this dead body with you, can it?"

Lin Miao didn't want to keep arguing with this guy; once everything was laid out, only one person could leave here alive today.

"Dead body?"

Benjamin's previously calm tone wavered for the first time. Pointing at the dying Zheng Shichang, he asked,

"Don't you think this is a work of art?"

"Art? I'm just a layman; the only artists I've possibly heard of in my life are Van Gogh and Chopin."

"Them? Haha, what kind of artists are they?"

Benjamin's laugh was tinged with disdain, as if mocking those supposedly historically renowned creators of art.

"There's only one true artist, and that is this world itself—it is the true god!"

He looked at Zheng Shichang's exposed body with a solemn expression and exalted tone, like a fanatic worshipping a religious relic.

"Is there anything that represents true art more than life, which has evolved for nearly four billion years? It is the supreme masterpiece brought by the divine!"

"Trillions of cells work in perfect harmony, collaborating to form a human being. How could Van Gogh's paintings possibly compare to humanity itself? How could Chopin's music compete with the human voice?"

Benjamin's voice suddenly rose, even roaring with a slight fury.

"Yet they! Violate this god's greatest creation, presumptuously adding to the flesh, replacing it with machinery, using network signals instead of neuron signals to transmit information, letting filthy, tainted energy fuels run through their blood. This is more than foolish! This... this is simply... this is simply idiocy!"

Yet Lin Miao sensed something different in this rant... as if it was...

Jealousy

Jealousy of original flesh?

Realizing this, Lin Miao started trying to scan with his cybernetic eye, but...

No response.

Not the kind of effect from being blocked, but rather no response from any electronic devices at all, meaning the person in front of him was as flesh-and-blood as a newly revived player.

So what's he jealous about?

Lin Miao was now filled with question marks.

The enigmatic behavior of the other person and the unclear motives left him unsure of how to handle the present situation.

Perhaps it's best just to finish this guy off...

"Mr. Lin."

Benjamin suddenly calmed down, and his gaze at Lin Miao no longer seemed indifferent, but rather carried the intent of a hunter.

"Do you know what I admire most?"

Lin Miao said nothing, instead staring directly at the other person because he sensed hostility.

"What I admire the most is this nature—survival of the fittest, the strong survive, and you and what you brought already lost a hundred years ago."

"Why would a loser continue to struggle in vain?"