Chapter 613 - 584 Inspirational Stories for Young People (Part 1)

"This liquor really hits hard, but this place... it’s like people pretending to be much more than they are."

After finishing his tequila, V commented.

The place was fancy, the drinks top-notch, but the reality was that Dog Town was a war zone. In this place where people struggled to get enough to eat, the Luxor Sports Academy seemed absurdly high-end.

However, the commodities here were just developing children, each outfitted with prosthetics that were likely to hinder their growth.

If mercenaries were in the business of burning through their lives quickly, these kids were just burning through theirs a little slower.

People watched the children on the stage like they were inspecting a newly released product. Their age didn’t matter; what mattered were their model, data, and specifications.

Unlike V and Jack’s opinions, the Wild Man King nodded approvingly: "Wow, these kids train way better than those brain-dead sports academies in Night City. But this mindset...

How can these half-baked prosthetics compare to well-trained bodies? It’s putting the cart before the horse."

Jack was rendered speechless: "Bro... sister, do you think you can last long training like this?"

The Wild Man King didn’t get angry, after all, everyone here was just trying to survive the streets: "If I didn’t train, I’d be dead on the streets already. And you think young kids in Haywood getting tattoos and playing with guns is a good thing? I could say you’re fighting so hard, you might just drop dead on the streets any day now..."

This retort became less forceful as it went on, considering these three had already survived scenarios where 99.9999...% of people would have died, and not just once.

But she still forced herself to finish confidently, then added: "Our downtown bosses look down on you kids from Haywood too. Getting involved with guns at such a young age, and these kids just training to get by. What’s the big deal?

If you don’t believe me, ask this former boss—Matt, say something."

"Uh... me?" Matt pointed to himself, "I... I don’t know!"

"How did your dad educate you?"

"Study hard, exercise, don’t hang out with street kids, find a good job in the future?"

The Wild Man King spread her hands: "See, I was right. People look down on you. To others, we’re all the same, just brain-dead street kids. No need to argue who’s worse."

After saying that, she patted Matt on the shoulder: "Kid, you need to realize not everyone has the opportunities you had, and you don’t have those anymore either.

So, train till you drop; it’s the surest way."

V looked at Lille, as if wanting to hear his thoughts.

Lille sighed lightly and said to V: "Actually, even in sports, wealthy kids have an advantage.

Look at Matt’s past. Wealthy kids get comprehensive training and enhancement plans that don’t hurt their bodies but still achieve the physique of these poor kids using prosthetics.

Even with implants, they’re only occasionally stronger than those who had enhancement plans from a young age—the so-called sports, willpower is one thing, but today, technical support is a significant factor."

Even willpower can be enhanced through comprehensive plans and neural stimulation via brain-machine interfaces, achieving a controlled obsession over a particular thing.

But for these projects to be safely implemented, they require long-term, comprehensive, scientific custom plans, stable pharmaceutical supplies, meticulous data analysis and plan formulation.

Poor people can’t support a team for that.

Matt felt even more conflicted after listening, involuntarily saying: "So... without money, you can never win?"

The Wild Man King sneered: "I can kill 90% of the fighters out there with one punch."

"You like to brag?" Lille glanced at her.

The Wild Man King scratched her head: "At least 80%! If I were a fighter, I’d surely beat a bunch of fakes too!"

"Then I guess I could beat 90% with no problem," Jack said cheerily, "We... didn’t have much money before either, just a good buddy."

The Wild Man King shut her mouth but thought: You’re more ridiculous than wealth; just don’t brag about it.

For these "successfully" street-hardened veterans, the conversation was just banter, but for a young guy like Matt, it wasn’t.

Seeing others having what he didn’t, seeing others being rich while he was poor, seeing others having hope while he had none, confusion rooted itself deeper:

Money means tech, a team, even desires and willpower can be controlled and enhanced with them. So this...

Matt stared confusedly at the adolescent athletes on stage, with prosthetics that shouldn’t be implanted at that age. Their future was uncertain, but just looking at those implants, it was clear: their future was already burning away.

Compared to his past, compared to those truly wealthy kids’ "sports"...

Matt mumbled: "So what’s the point of all this?"

Confusion was only a seed, Lille glanced at him and said: "There’s an old saying: Effort might not bring rewards, but without effort, there will definitely be no rewards."

Matt bit his lip: "But..."

Lille knew this was the time for an elder to give an inspirational speech, but the Wild Man King acted faster.

The Animal Gang’s leader, the Wild Man King, seeing Matt’s expression, suddenly got mad and slapped him across the face:

"But what but, today you can’t figure it out, tomorrow you’ll torture yourself at night wondering why you didn’t have good parents, and the day after, you’ll be buying a VR sex toy and hiding at home for pleasure!

You’re given a chance and can’t use it; you might as well go find a spot and kill yourself. Wasting all the time I’ve trained you..."

"I..." Matt felt wronged after the slap, "I only trained for half a day..."

"What?"

"I’m sorry, boss lady." Matt sincerely bowed his head, "I was really wrong."

The Wild Man King sat down and ordered another beer, thinking, she said: "The first time I fought, it was against an amateur with gear as good as a professional’s, a rich kid who practiced freefighting in his free time."

"Why didn’t he go pro?"

The Wild Man King glanced at him: "You’ll understand someday. Anyway, that bastard liked to rely on his good equipment to beat people in underground matches, he even killed several people.

A rich ’elite,’ receiving high-quality education from a young age, supported by comprehensive sports training, equipped with advanced third-gen prosthetics, having extraordinary reflexes and strength, easily playing with those surviving on underground fights. In the end, no one wanted to fight him; nobody wanted to die.

You also had the chance to become that brain-dead rich kid once; I used to be the kind of fodder he used for fun."

Matt didn’t speak, but his gaze clearly conveyed one question: And then?

"And then..."

The Wild Man King laughed, a cruel laugh, as if she was lost in memories, spat on the floor like she was still in a fight.

Lille noticed the red light flash momentarily near her deltoid hormone stabilizer, indicating she had entered a high-power state for an instant.

Obviously, the Animal Gang didn’t like prosthetics, preferring high-tech ways to train their muscles, but there were many types of prosthetics.

The Wild Man King’s prosthetics primarily injected hormones and drugs directly into muscles, bones, and nerves. Her "implantation" level was low, but a lot of her subcutaneous injection implant components were still visible.

Her blood was pure drugs and artificial hormones, her body’s hormone levels far beyond human operating ranges—

No boss in Night City was useless, and neither was she.

The Wild Man King clenched her fists, and Matt could clearly see her muscles and veins bulging...

"Then I fought him. My partner paid to find out his prosthetic model; I got to know his weaknesses, the tension limits of each muscle and skin piece. I knew I could win.

Initially, he beat me so bad I saw stars and got dizzy, but he got cocky, thinking he was invincible, almost killing me. I still remember his expression; you’d think he was climaxing...

I punched through his skin, the impact disrupted his artificial gland, flooding him with adrenaline, heightening his pleasure, but he didn’t notice his sensory circuits were fried.

He thought he was almost there, but he wasn’t. So my second punch landed on his liver; the metabolic optimizer got shocked, accumulating high voltage due to the shorted artificial gland, and it fried on the spot. He was stunned.

Then I went for his jaw, joints, head... ripped out all exposed implants, yanked the cables from under his skin. He screamed like a trapped rat. Ha, I crushed his prosthetic eye and crushed his skull!"

The Wild Man King lost control of her emotions telling the story. The bartender and those interested in her overheard and were stunned.

Not just overheard, they were enthralled, shocked, a bit... terrified.

The bartender didn’t notice the spilled liquor. The Wild Man King grabbed the bottle and took a swig, wiping her mouth, continued:

"Without prosthetics, he was a coward, a useless piece of trash. He was rich, but still trash. Though he was hard to kill.

Even with a crushed skull, he didn’t die. The trauma team buzzed around like flies. I grabbed the nearby trophy and smashed him into pulp...

Ha, I remember my partner panicking like a monkey, yelling: This wasn’t the plan! Run!

Running and lamenting the ruined neural implants, made me laugh so hard."

After finishing, the Wild Man King shook her head, her flickering prosthetics returning to normal.

Matt was dumbfounded, but as a kid, kids are always curious, so he was curious about what happened next.

He asked: "Then what happened? The trauma team, the fight venue..."

"The trauma team only attacks those who obstruct saving lives. By the time they arrived, I had already smashed their client, so they could only watch me leave.

The underground ring dissolved, the company’s PR went nuts; this guy was a biotech top-gun, the center was on lockdown for a long time.

Until I started, leading those brainless punks, running rampant in the center. Now, any high-end underground fight ring you find in Night City is connected to me."

The Wild Man King bared her teeth in a grin—

Not because of decay, but high metal content, giving her teeth a shiny, reflective look under the light.

Heaven knows how many sets of teeth she’d grown.