Chapter 325 - 300 Poverty is a Crime

Over two million six hundred thousand!

Is this wrong? This is very right.

The so-called bounty is all about who brings the head of the target to exchange for money, that money is then given to that person.

The format, file size, and clarity of these kill records... all meet the NCPD’s requirements for bounty collection, and no one else has registered to claim it, the first discoverer was not the NCPD either.

So, of course, the NCPD would recognize it, and if the NCPD recognized it, Jefferson would have to as well.

He, not believing in curses, uploaded several pieces of data to the NCPD bounty database, and found Lille hadn’t lied to him—

The data was too legitimate, some even captured at the scene of the kill, taken on the spot.

This was terrifying: everyone knew the true reason behind the recent disturbances was the Vortex Gang’s internal strife, but how could Lille have so much firsthand information?!

Jefferson’s expression had already become somewhat uneasy, Lille spread his hands, "This is the benefit of the tech era, data can’t be faked, you can verify it yourself."

The mayoral candidate, after holding back for a long time until his face turned somewhat pale, finally said, "Does this have anything to do with you?"

"No relation." Lille shook his head, "Want to hear it? Add another hundred thousand if you want to hear it."

A piece of information for a hundred thousand, but Jefferson’s trembling mind could only focus on one thing:

So, was this man in front of him the real person responsible for the 1073 members of the Vortex Gang, the riot causing economic damage that could surpass tens of millions?!

With a thousand-odd people dead, Lille looked as calm as if he had just eaten a few small bread rolls...

He desperately needed to be sure this was a joke!

That was a thousand lives!

Jefferson sat up straight, prim and proper, thinking in his head: Please tell me this isn’t true.

"...Just say it directly."

"They snatched some military technology vehicles, but the military technology’s security in the convoy immediately donned this kind of linear frame, which led to only a partial success of the robbery.

Now that one—" Lille pointed at Royce, whose head had already exploded on the column, "he left his boss there and came back with his boys to attempt to usurp the position.

But another one—the one hanging on the wall across from him who didn’t die, that led to the infighting.

Of course, this power grab had been planned for a long time, it just so happened that there was an issue with this mission, the opportunity was good, so he staged a coup."

"So the Centaur Mecha is..."

Lille raised a finger and wagged it, "This info is quite valuable, if you’re thinking of using it, it won’t be the same price."

Military technology’s Centaur Mecha...

Isn’t this the thing that military technology wants to sell to the NCPD?

If it got out that their military equipment has been used by gangs to wreak havoc, the impact would be more than profound...

The equipment’s power would surely not be questioned, but its safety, controllability, and even the reliability of the company’s own security services would likely be questioned to a certain extent.

After thinking it over, Jefferson said, "Are all the pieces of evidence complete?"

"Hmm..." Lille glanced at his inbox.

[Sender: Mercedes]

[Mercedes: Keep the stuff for me, or I might get reassigned.]

[Lille: Can do, mutual aid.]

"Alright, this item is not for sale, so..."

Lille tapped on the desk, and it lit up with green fluorescence, making the whole room seem a bit... odd.

And the green glow formed two lines of numbers.

First line: 2,683,000.

Second line: 100,000.

"This is the first bill."

Lille took a sip from his bungling monkey and waited for Jefferson to catch on.

After about half a minute, Jefferson swallowed hard and nodded.

Yes, he was very wealthy, with assets in the tens of millions.

But to take out over two million six hundred thousand euros at once...

That was liquid funds!

But what could he do? If he defaulted on the payment, he didn’t even know if he could walk out of here alive.

He was sure that Lille wouldn’t entangle him with any contractual loopholes—thinking of this made his temples throb with pain.

According to what Lille had said, this internal conflict was an inevitable coincidence: a long-planned rebellion, a conveniently failed robbery, a deputy seizing the opportunity to revolt.

But the story Lille told was still very vague.

For example, how exactly did he manage to claim so many bounties?

Was the infighting really just a coincidence?

Many questions, but according to their contract, that’s not the point; the point is that Lille could indeed claim over half a million in bounties, so he had to pay Lille two million six hundred thousand in remuneration.

This amount was far beyond his psychological expectation.

But... what could he do?

And this was only the first bill.

"This second bill..." Lille, holding his bungling monkey, stood up and gestured for Jefferson to follow, "Let’s go inside and talk."

Lille came to a room, opened the door.

A large group of residents dressed in tattered clothes huddled inside, their faces sallow and bodies emaciated, and the poor quality black market prosthetics on their bodies were clearly visible.

Jefferson was stunned for a moment, then said angrily, "Kidnapped by the Vortex Gang?"

"It’s a bit different." Lille led Jefferson through the room, passing by a one-way glass. The people inside couldn’t see outside and continued to talk to each other.

Jefferson also noticed this and realized that it indeed differed from pure kidnapping.

"To be precise, they are customers of the Vortex Gang." Lille revealed the answer. "They can’t afford genuine prosthetics and software, so they have to use pirated versions.

And the Vortex Gang is the largest source of pirated and black market prosthetics in the city."

"But pirated software and black market prosthetics can lead to nausea, vomiting, seizures, coma...the incidence of cyberpsychosis also greatly increases!"

"If they don’t use pirated software and black market prosthetics, they would starve to death. Even if they could find leftovers in the trash...these days, the air is toxic, the land is owned, death is inevitable anyway.

Go ask them, they all know it. Or ask them why they don’t use genuine software? Is it because they can’t afford it?"

Since the land is owned, there is no place to grow crops; the air is toxic, and without money for blood transfusions and prosthetics with filtration capabilities, being poisoned to death is only a matter of time.

And these common people face many problems, the very basic ones of survival.

Jefferson, of course, perceived the clear irony and naturally didn’t foolishly ask.

But he had an argument too. "Why not take out a loan? Just take a loan to implant the first piece of work-related prosthetics..."

"No one will give a loan to a homeless person.

If you want to survive, you need money, you need to find a job, but without prosthetics, you can’t find a job. Yet, without a job, there’s no money, and without money, it’s impossible to get prosthetics."

This seemed to be an unsolvable vicious cycle.

Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "This is the reality I want to change. If we could collect more taxes from the mega-corporations, we would have the start-up funds to resolve these issues.

The pirated software and prosthetics from the Vortex Gang only harm them, but you’re right, it’s not their fault.

They can only afford such prosthetics and software."

"Let’s hear how you plan to solve it?"

At this point, Jefferson put down his hand and began to speak confidently: "These funds will be used to purchase work prosthetics and establish a sound social assessment and integration system.

Welfare organizations will provide them with low-interest loans to install genuine prosthetics and software. After assessments, they’ll be assigned to the most suitable job positions.

Each person has their role, ensuring the normal functioning of society.

As long as everyone has a job, an income, and a place in society, there would be no room for criminals to grow."

"Not a bad idea..."

Lille stopped walking and gave a slight nod: "A fine blueprint indeed, it sounds very orderly and harmonious."

Jefferson smiled, "I’ve always said, you should join me, and together we can eradicate crime at its roots.

The crime situation in the Northern District of Watson has spiraled out of control. Murders, robberies, theft...countless. I can’t imagine the living hell these people endure."

Lille didn’t respond but instead said, "Back to the issue of the crime rate—the crime rate in Watson North District remains high, but now, you need to reduce the crime rate to lower the chances of Arasaka and Military Technology moving in here.

The Vortex Gang is certainly crippled, but their size was just under a thousand people.

You say you’re doing these things for the poor citizens and homeless of Night City, but what if these things were created by the very people you’re trying to help?"

Jefferson was taken aback for a moment.

Lille pointed to those Night City residents waiting for something in the room, then turned on a screen on the wall.

"That dead-end cycle we mentioned earlier has already been broken by these smart and savvy common folk, even though pirated software and prosthetics also cost money.

Legitimate pathways didn’t offer them a solution, but the Vortex Gang did, and their seed capital came from here."

The screen lit up, showing evidence related to over 80% of the crimes in Watson North District, all collected from the bloody night of the operation.

Adkaduo gathered this information from factories and warehouses after the fighting ceased.

And this information revealed the records of theft, robbery, brawls, and other minor cases that really accounted for the bulk of crime in Watson North District.

Those seemingly extreme acts of violence all started from insignificant details.

A map of a wealthy company employee’s route home, the inventory and route of a small transportation team, factory profit statuses, production standards, and technologies...

All this information was provided by these common folk, and even...their direct participation, whether voluntary or coerced.

After the deed, they all received some benefit—often their first bucket of gold, sometimes medical fees for a sick relative, or merely their food and lodging expenses.

This massive evidence spoke a fact:

The main contributors to the high crime rate in Watson North District were not the Vortex Gang, but the homeless of Night City, abandoned by the legal world and with nowhere else to turn.

The "victims" Jefferson wanted to protect were also the vicious criminals he described.

"I have already calculated the second account for you.

The previous crime rate of the Northern District of Watson was 51%, with a total population of 500,000.

A total of 1073 members of the Vortex Gang died, each related to an average of 20 cases. Excluding their impact, the fall in the crime rate is...4 percentage points.

The Vortex Gang is certainly decimated, Mr. Perares.

But crime will not just stop, and the so-called gangs, they actually survive on that unsolvable cycle we mentioned earlier.

Or put simply, on poverty.

In a way, here, poverty itself is a crime; they are pitiful, but they are also aggressive."

Lille shrugged his shoulders, his mechanical arms moving parts around on a nearby table.

"You say you have a way to make the ’threatening’ crime disappear, but what if they themselves are the criminals?"

Lille opened the room door.

Seeing is believing.

As the door opened slowly, Jefferson’s headache intensified.