Chapter 389 - 361 Six Street Gang

Looking back now, the sergeant was full of emotion when he recalled the first time he heard the name and the comments he made about it:

Once, he thought he’d been played by three idiots.

Now that he’d been saved by these three idiots, didn’t that mean he was an even bigger idiot?

The true idiot was himself.

Of course, while he had his internal commentary, in the real world, Burger King really had become like a godfather to him.

"Boss, you want a smoke?"

Lille shook his head.

It’s no wonder the sergeant’s knees went weak, for the more he understood about that night’s assault, the more frightened he became.

Let’s put it this way; if in the last moments of that night, someone in the car had opened fire and killed him, the hot-headed fool on stage...

Then what would follow would be his own people, too scared to move, wetting their pants.

Meanwhile, the enemies would have charged for miles, braving hundreds of guns to take the gang leader’s head amid a thousand troops, and, steadying his scared underlings, walk out grandly.

Stepping over the sergeant’s reputation with the Six Street Gang, they’d become the new top mercenary.

Perhaps the Six Street Gang wouldn’t even exist after that.

Not to mention, if it weren’t for those three "bosses", he’d already be dead and rotting in the wilderness.

Of course, there were rumors that these badass mercenaries came to Night City because of the three bosses, but it’s pointless to keep tracing back. The sergeant was still very clear about that in his mind.

He turned and looked at the number of people kneeling on the empty ground—

These were the followers of the guy with the artillery, the traitor he hadn’t managed to catch.

The sergeant waved his hand, shouting to the people upstairs, "Fire!"

Boom!

A barrage of rocket launcher fire smashed them to pieces. You could still hear them whining about something before the explosion, but no one cared about that.

People die as easily as lamps go out, but money transfers come swiftly.

[Transfer: +500000 Euros]

Each of the three took 160,000, while Lille still had 10,000 in hand, the good news being that he was starting to see the end of his debt to V.

"Everybody’s happy!" The sergeant turned back with a smile on his face, wishing he could wrap his arms around Lille.

Unfortunately, that was not to be.

Lille waved his hand, "Let’s skip the nonsense. This matter is settled. I’m taking those mercenaries with me.

Lastly, there’s the matter of Ye Group’s power supply facilities."

Ye Group was different from the other multinational giants; their main business was all within Night City’s three acres of land, and their military reserves weren’t too formidable.

But the strong dragon doesn’t suppress the local snake, and Ye Group was that local snake.

Strictly speaking, ever since the beginning, Night City was entirely their territory.

The sergeant found a chair to sit down, "Ye Group’s stock price plummeted yesterday, you should know that.

They sent me a message to find the people, package them, and send them over. But since you’re taking the people, I’ll stay out of it.

Thing is... Ye Group is also a major client of mine, you see..."

Each area has its own power station, and in Night City, the operation of these power stations is largely dependent on the favor of the gangs.

They could, of course, send their own troops to guard, but if the gangs covertly cause trouble or threaten residents, profits could plummet drastically.

So here, they must pay the gangs a sum of money, not too much or too little, so that it doesn’t raise costs excessively, at least not beyond what they gain from the increase in profits.

Lille tapped the table, looking at the sergeant, "Have you ever thought about generating your own power?"

The sergeant was taken aback.

Of course, he had never considered it—Night City had been Ye Group’s concern from the very beginning, who would bother with that?

The Six Street Gang getting a cut for protection from the company was good enough, generating their own power?

That’s both troublesome and dangerous: who knows what the desperate company might do to them?

Though they boasted about not fearing companies and killing corporate dogs, killing corporate dogs and the corporation itself were two different things.

Talking big and actual intentions were also different matters: it’s like in the Marvel World; you could curse the Government daily, but if you truly believed you could take it down in your heart...

Most of those people end up in a psychiatric hospital.

And those who might be capable and take action, most are on the path to physical dissolution.

The sergeant leaned back, "Are you trying to get me killed?"

Then it was off the table.

Lille thought for a moment and said, "Adkaduo wants to establish a foothold in Evil Land; they’ll set up a whole solar and wind power system there.

The primary power use of Coronado Farm is domestic electricity; I think a small-scale power supply is no problem."

What Lille didn’t say was that, if conditions allowed, they could even get the patents for second-generation ethanol cultivation from biotechnology and set up a thermal power plant.

The sergeant’s back, which had just relaxed, straightened up again.

This was about taking a piece of Ye Group’s pie.

And after briefly thinking it over, the sergeant realized it wasn’t so far-fetched.

Firstly, clean energy doesn’t have a high technological barrier, and since Lille could supply large quantities of first-generation prosthetics and other goods, it suggested that Adkaduo had the technological foundation.

The issues to be resolved were the supply chain and construction, which the sergeant didn’t understand well, but he knew that Wanderer was an expert in logistics, and many times they survived on orders for infrastructure.

As for the social environment, his Six Street Gang wouldn’t dare harass those designated by Lille, and would even have to actively protect them.

He didn’t even need to say much; his underlings knew to steer clear and avoid causing trouble.

So maintenance costs might even be lower than those of big corporations.

If you think about it, the only and the biggest problem lies in Evil Land.

To construct an electricity array in Evil Land, you can’t avoid military technology, and the Ye Group could completely hire professionals in military technology to blow up the electricity array.

But that’s not a problem for the sergeant to consider.

So, he gave Lille a thumbs-up, "Buddy, I get it."

"You won’t be short of money," Lille added, "As long as the power station operates smoothly, we can also pay you a sum of money. All you need to do is keep the distribution station safe."

"Fair enough," the sergeant beamed even brighter, "Am I doing this for money? Of course, it’s for mutual benefit...

Right, about the second batch of goods..."

"Talk to Adkaduo’s men about that, I’m not in charge of this."

Having said that, Lille prepared to stand up and leave.

"Oh, right." The sergeant also rose, picking up a briefcase from the table, "This is a prize for the day.

Although I guess you guys probably aren’t short of money, good stuff is always welcome."

Lille nodded with pleasure, taking the briefcase, "Definitely worth a look; we’ll be in touch if anything comes up."

Watching Lille leave the room, the sergeant finally let out a long sigh of relief:

Hiring a bunch of mercenaries, of course he could only relax after sending the mercenaries off.

To be honest, in this affair, both he and those traitors had a very awkward issue—

Their strength was actually insufficient to resist two groups of mercenaries.

Ever since the nuclear bomb explosion, the firepower on the streets of Night City had actually decreased a lot compared to the previous era.

Just like how companies were extremely cautious about rebuilding the network after the old net collapsed, Night City, having been rebuilt multiple times, naturally had the same problem, with regulations becoming much stricter.

So...

"Still need to beef up the armaments..."

The sergeant walked towards the other end of the building, as a soldier quickly emerged from a room on the side of the corridor and approached him.

"Boss, a lot of people died this time."

"The condolence money isn’t enough to go around?" the sergeant was surprised, "Really?"

"No, it’s not that, it’s just some senior officers have no next of kin..."

"Are you new here?"

The soldier nodded, and the sergeant slowly said, "No next of kin? Deposit the money into my account—with your pea brain, think about it, if they don’t have families and they’re following me, who am I if not their big brother?!"

"Uh... what about the others?"

"The rest, distribute as usual. And since you’re new here, let me warn you, keep a close eye on who’s handing out the money. Anyone who swallows it will end up just like the guy before, shot... executed by firing squad."

Execution by cannon is really expensive; bullets are much cheaper.

Thinking of this, the sergeant asked again, "Not much money left in the account, right?"

"Not much left," the soldier answered and then paused before adding tentatively, "We learned something from those traitors; they got ordered to produce hallucinogens using β-acid for the artillery before, we might also..."

"Don’t do it," the sergeant shook his head, "Getting into production takes too much effort. How many people here in Saint Domingo know chemistry, you tell me?

Better to just rob it directly. Remember this, we mainly do three types of deals:

Arms trade, armed vehicle rental and modification, and security services. Everything else is trivial. If we’re going to do other things, I’ll talk to you about it personally."

"Got it."

Stepping outside, the sergeant looked up and suddenly noticed a huge crowd of civilians outside the wire gate, lined up in a long queue.

Seeing his boss’s gaze, the soldier immediately explained,

"Boss, they’re all laid off by the corporations, saying the companies didn’t give them severance pay, hoping we can ’retrieve’ it for them.

Some are also here for military service registration."

By "retrieve," of course, he meant selling factory and corporate intel, assisting the Six Street Gang with their illicit activities.

The sergeant smiled—

Good, with this, fresh blood isn’t lacking and there’s a channel for activity.

To be honest, his reluctance to develop the artillery’s hallucinogen production had other reasons that were embarrassing to admit in front of his men:

Burger King was now also getting into drug production; what if it ended up clashing with them?

Moreover, the big brother seemed not to be fond of these things.

If one were to off themselves in a dumb moment, that’d be ridiculous.

Best to be sensible—they rob corporations, so we rob corporations.

"Go count the guns in the armory... right, what’s your name?"

"Darius Miles, boss."

"Good, Darius, count the guns and then get ready to help these little lambs get their wages.

With the momentum we have now, I want to be in tomorrow morning’s headlines... at the very least, make one of them:

’Malicious wage recovery! Certain enterprise attacked by unidentified illegal forces, attackers wrote on the wall: give back our hard-earned money’..."

The sergeant stretched lazily in the sun—still had to find a prosthetics doctor for a checkup.

Just then, he received a message...

[Sender: Jade Green Nightclub]

[Dear Mr. Morton: The Jade Green will soon be hosting a banquet, and as our esteemed VIP customer, you will receive an invitation.]