Chapter 380 - 352: Firepower Coverage with Auto-aim

In 2076, in this Cyberpunk World, dodging bullets was not impossible.

It only required a few conditions: on the hardware side, one must have adequately enhanced prosthetics. These prosthetics should strengthen one’s nerves, enhance one’s muscles and bones, and increase the blood delivery capacity—the more needs met, the better.

Then equip the corresponding processors and chips, which would extract highlighted vision from the Cyber Modulator, filtering out details helpful for trajectory estimation such as the muzzle and the trigger.

By judging the timing of the muzzle and the trigger pull, the chips would rapidly calculate the bullet’s trajectory and then drive the prosthetics to dodge before the shot was fired.

The success rate of dodging was linked to many factors: the system’s computing power, image clarity, and most notably, the enemy’s reaction speed and adjustment speed.

An enemy who was faster in reaction and adjustment could easily lock onto you while you were moving erratically. If reaction and adjustment speeds were at par, the shooter always had the advantage.

Also, there was the matter of the number of bullets—

The trajectory escape algorithm was just that, an algorithm, a prosthetic drive mode, and not magic or a cause-and-effect weapon!

When the bullet’s velocity reached a certain level, the so-called success rate of the trajectory escape algorithm would plummet dramatically!

Man and his men, with smiles as bright as sunshine, pulled their triggers, and the muzzle’s flames under the man’s Prosthetic Eye looked like small suns, making his icy heart...

Even colder.

The probability of dodging instantaneously dropped to less than 10%, as the large-caliber bullets rained down on him like a torrential downpour!

The chip had already planned the only possible survival action mode for him: all his energy was used for running and jumping, and now, jump to a cover that could shield him from these bullets!

A stone stump located more than 20 meters away!

The powerful Lone Wolf gathered his strength, and his strong Cyber bionic legs kicked fiercely, even cracking the ground!

Regrettably, he had prosthetics, and so did Man.

Having followed Lille for so long, although he often got his arm shattered, his skull dented, he indeed earned quite a lot.

And more often than not, it was Man who was almost killed. The others mostly used their earnings to upgrade their equipment.

Rebecca had already switched to brand new bionic muscles and bones. These enhanced prosthetics were driven by fire-control chips, providing auto-aiming adjustments for aiming precision and recoil control—

Now calling her a humanoid turret wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

Her two Prosthetic Eyes captured all visual images and transmitted them to the processor, where the normally overlooked details were also extracted to become data, rapidly processed by the processor with the fire-control chip.

Movement trajectories, action speeds, and every shooting deviation under wind and inertia were all included in the calculation.

Then the chip would feed back control currents, in an almost imperceptible manner to Rebecca, adjusting the angle of each shot.

Her arms locked on the enemy’s trajectory as if equipped with auto-aim!

0.2 seconds after the enemy jumped, the first bullet hit his shoulder. It was a small-caliber bullet with a poor entry angle, deflected by the subdermal armor, only slightly disturbing his jump trajectory.

0.5 seconds, 12 shotgun pellets struck his body, deforming the subdermal armor, and he was propelled by the enormous kinetic energy of the shotgun.

0.7 seconds, 4 bullets hit his body, 1 small-caliber and 34 shotgun pellets. This time, the bullet’s force tore through his left hand, penetrated the subdermal armor, scattering parts, and he lost control over himself.

0.8 seconds, he had moved 16 meters, but his body already had a tendency to fly sideways, countless rifle bullets, submachine gun bullets, and shotgun pellets hitting him.

His arms, shoulder, and half of his body began to break apart, his legs currently in front of his chest, appearing twisted into an exaggerated angle.

As his body went out of control, more and more bullets hit him, tearing him apart in midair...

1.2 seconds, he successfully landed but was too far off the intended trajectory, and only a small section of his body remained.

—

"Haha! Awesome!"

On the drifting Mackinaw, Rebecca had just emptied a magazine, her shotgun smoking white.

"Whew." She blew away the smoke from the barrel and nodded in satisfaction, "Not bad, not bad, I always said we should get some serious guns."

None of the people in their car had neural components of the Si Anweisitan level, although they could load fire-control chips into their prosthetic arms to assist with aiming, it was hard to make out exactly how things were happening.

What they could see was a man darting out like a rat, so fast that only his afterimages were visible, and the barrage of bullets chased the large rat, gnawing away at him in the air bit by bit.

The shattered body hit the ground, stubbornly rolled into cover, revealing only a long leg, and then...

Bang!

The drifting Mackinaw slammed into him, hitting right into the very cover he had longed for.

Man opened the car door, one hand holding an Arasaka wild-split assault rifle, and snapped off the car to the ground.

It must be said that cyborgs are indeed tough to kill.

The man’s body had been torn apart by bullets, the subdermal armor on his side deeply dented and deformed by the bullets. It seemed the bullets hadn’t penetrated his armor, but had instead sneaked in through the gap between the deformed armor and his body.

Perhaps his electronic kidneys were damaged, as a dreadful hole continuously leaked synthetic fluid.

The joints in his limbs were clearly deformed, and although they could still move, the components in his palms were sparking with electricity, only able to tremble slightly.

Now he also understood why the Six Street Gang had been ambushed: there seemed to be some kind of stake in the man’s heel, which from its thickness and structure, could pierce through most concrete structures in an instant, allowing one to stand on a vertical plane.

Seeing this man, Man felt as if he was seeing his former self—when his hands were smashed by military technology, he was just like this.

Using a large amount of cheap, first-generation prosthetic structures to increase combat capability, though called human, looked more like a robot.

Times had changed, after repeated reminders from David and Burger King, Man was now all about firearms.

In Lille’s words:

"Not understanding guns and constantly swapping prosthetics, you’re just wasting a whole van full of people."

The high degree of prosthetic augmentation of Lone Wolf was largely because he was a Lone Wolf, with little support, facing complex and variable situations, needing to equip himself with as comprehensive prosthetics and equipment as possible to manage potential scenarios.

But why degrade yourself when you can suppress with firepower?

The man’s broken artificial vocal cords emitted a ragged cry:

"Damn... do all people in Night City disregard the rules like this?"

Man glanced back: the street behind was littered with car parts and transhuman components, and everywhere holes they had shot could be seen.

Now they were using military weaponry, although slightly lacking compared to the special, strange weapons in the hands of those foreign mercenaries, but the sheer quantity and rapid fire could leave conspicuous bullet holes or even craters on the ground.

But...

"What rules?"

"You’re shooting like this in the streets? Your police and the Terrorist Mobile Team..."

Man laughed, "The Terrorist Mobile Team doesn’t care about this, and as for the police—you’re attacking the local police of Saint Domingo right now!"

With that, Man grabbed the man’s head and hooked him into a personal link.