Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 642, Section 56: The Victory or Defeat of Jack and V

Despite the still terrible weather, Anders Herman was brought back to the city and eventually handed over to Roger.

Until the very last moment, he was still wondering—which company wanted to hire him?

It's perfectly normal for companies to use intermediaries, these "black gloves" between companies, for recruitment. Anders Herman had heard that Roger seemed to have a corporate background, but Roger also usually acted as an intermediary for various companies, so it wasn't surprising that he used her for recruitment. So even when it came to Roger, he remained calm, and even subtly showed some of his arrogant attitude as a corporate dog towards Roger, the intermediary.

In his view, he was an important person needed by Roger for the commission. In other words, in his eyes, Roger was just a middleman who did things for money, so naturally he should be respectful to him. He didn't dare to put on airs in front of KK because he knew that if he pretended to be respectful in front of KK, KK would really dare to kill him. But facing a mere middleman who picked up scraps from the company's coffers, even if he was under her control now, what could she do to him?

"I hope we can meet again on a more respectable occasion next time."

As Anders Hermann was led away by Roger's men, he did not forget to give Karl a slight nod, pretending to maintain courtesy.

But as the distance increased, his back became straighter and straighter, and his steps became more and more arrogant, just like a haughty peacock. Karl looked at his back and didn't know how to evaluate him for a moment.

“When he meets the ‘welcome party’ sent by Arakasaka,” Oliver said with a chuckle, “his face will be quite a sight.”

Wei Lan nodded in deep agreement: "There aren't many purebred corporate dogs like him these days."

“That’s probably why,” Oliver said, somewhat speechlessly, “that when it comes to actually bending over, he can kneel down faster than anyone else.”

Carl shrugged helplessly at Rogge, and after receiving a knowing nod in response, watched the middleman turn and walk towards the back room.

Just then, all three of their phones rang with notification sounds.

As a professional middleman, Roger naturally kept the contact information of each mercenary, and the transfer information was clearly displayed—she thoughtfully saved them the trouble of splitting the profits and directly transferred their respective shares to each person's account.

“Not bad,” Oliver whistled. “He did a little work, but he made back all the money he spent on treating us tonight, and he can still have a few more drinks.”

"The work itself isn't big, but the trouble is considerable. If it weren't for this awful weather, it could have been much easier." Karl tugged at his collar; the lingering smell of acid rain made him frown. "Tsk, I need to get back and take a shower, and Hera needs a thorough cleaning too." He turned to Weyland. "Want to get together again sometime? Have you been taking on a lot of work lately?"

“I’m available anytime if I’m looking for work.” Wei Lan grinned, dusting off his jacket, which was also soaked in the smell of acid rain. “I’m even more available if I’m looking for drinks. To be honest, this rain today may have been unlucky, but it might have actually helped us.”

Oliver recalled a glimpse he'd caught while driving: "You mean those drones?"

He squinted, recalling the scene on the way back—as the storm subsided, swarms of drones appeared one after another on the edge of the city, patrolling the badlands like belated hounds, if they were originally after Anders Herman.
"Looks like this rain not only soaked us," Oliver scoffed, "but also extinguished some people's tracking plans."

"Anders Hermann, it seems his value is indeed as high as he is confident."

Carl didn't pay much attention to this. After all, apart from Relic—the thing that had already shown him Johnny Silverhand's miraculous resurrection—he wasn't interested in asking any more questions about the other trivial matters like biological experiments and factional infighting that Anders Herman had revealed.

After saying goodbye to the friends he had just met and made friends with that day, Carl took a shower on his way home, changed his clothes, and went out of his room to find that Jack and V had already returned.

And what do the two of them look like at this moment?
"He looks like a pig's head."

This is T-BUG's assessment after returning with them.

"To be honest, it's true."

Oliver nodded in agreement. Looking at Jack and V now, he honestly couldn't recognize them as his friends. If it weren't for the difference in size—the larger, more swollen "baked bun" on the left was clearly Jack, and the slightly smaller "fermented dough" on the right should be V—he would have suspected that two pigs had been mistakenly placed in the living room.

"These two pigs fought hard in the ring for half an hour, which was great for the spectators. They were even cheering for what they called the most exciting boxing match of the year. But they got carried away and ended up fighting purely on instinct. In the end, they were both knocked out by a single punch and lay on the ground for a long time, unable to get up."

T-BUG recounted to Oliver and Karl what those two idiots had done during the match, then sharply criticized them: "Anyone who didn't know better would think they were arguing about who would treat the other tonight. The two of them were slashing at each other's faces much more ruthlessly than they do to anyone else. Anyone who didn't know better would think they had some kind of life-or-death feud."

“I think it’s because they know each other too well that they know how to greet each other to take them down.” Karl poured himself a glass of lemonade, then sniffed his own body to make sure the smell had dissipated before saying, “After all, these two idiots know each other’s abilities, and they probably don’t want to know that I’m holding back.”

"And then they treated each other like this?"

T-BUG frowned. To be honest, as someone who does mental work, she never really understood why people work so hard in this area. Just like she never understood her former teammates. In her opinion, since it didn't matter who advanced, they could just have a casual competition and then lie down comfortably on the ground.

"We're all on the same side, it doesn't matter who wins."

"That's not true, T-BUG."

While T-BUG was muttering to himself, the smaller pig-headed guy spoke up: "Old Vick is watching, and Jack is standing right in front of me, facing me with a serious expression. How could I not take it seriously?"

After V said that, T-BUG fell silent.

Because that sentence convinced her.

Every time I went to Old Wei's clinic, he would tirelessly play a boxing match, a match in which the side that should have won absolutely not have lost. He just couldn't understand why the side that should have won would have lost.

Because he didn't understand, he watched it again and again, and in the end he could only conclude that there was a difference in the prosthetic bodies between the two sides. The pure boxing of the past had been changed by prosthetic bodies, and that was all he could say.

But everyone who knows Lao Wei knows that he just doesn't want to see another fact.

That is, the boxer he supported, who should have won even with the difference in prosthetic body, threw the match.

Whether for money or whatever other reason, the boxer who should have won threw the match.

This is what Lao Wei is unwilling to admit, so he can only watch it over and over again, trying to convince himself, but he can't convince himself no matter what.

With Vee standing right in front of them, and with a friend who knows them well and understands their level right there, how could V and Jack convince themselves not to give it their all?

That's disrespectful to everyone.

This is incredibly disrespectful to Vegan, his opponents, the boxing fans who come to watch the match, and even to himself and his past opponents throughout his boxing career.

"You guys are really something."

Finally, T-BUG was persuaded and put aside his complaints. He went to get the medkit, ready to have Oliver treat the two idiots.

So, who won in the end?

Oliver grinned and put his arm around the shoulders of the two pig-headed men, asking them a question.

"Jack."

V spoke, his words brimming with resentment: "That bastard's punch was too heavy; I couldn't get up for ages."

"V was only half a second slower than me, and I won by score."

Jack the Pighead smiled and said, "But since I won, you can rest assured and watch me turn around and give Razor a good thrashing."

As the victor among friends, even if we face the champion next, we can't afford to lose.

(End of this chapter)