Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 705, Chapter 119: First Meeting, President Miles
"There were gunshots."

Oliver squinted, the flames of the burning plane wreckage in the distance dancing in his pupils.

"The Presidential Guard is still fighting the Hounds—now is the perfect time for us to enter the fray."

Listening to Oliver's words, V turned to look at the lark: "How many survivors are on the plane? I need feature identification to avoid accidental casualties."

“Aside from the security robots, there are eleven people in total. However, after removing me and the president, there should be nine. I'm not sure if they have the luck to survive the impact, but even if they do, they definitely won't last long. You need to hurry.”

"Only nine people? It seems the president really kept his trip very secret, only bringing his most trusted personnel, right? In other words, there might be a traitor among those nine people?"

After a moment of silence upon hearing Oliver's words, the lark spoke:

"I don't know. Each of them was specially selected to protect the president. I have no right to dissuade the president from his own choice in this regard. But even if they are special combat personnel, they cannot hold out for long when outnumbered and outgunned after the crash, given the unknown number of casualties."
President Miles will investigate the traitor matter himself. What you need to do now is get there as quickly as possible, protect the president, and if you find anyone you suspect, take action immediately.

"The matter is quite clear."

Jack gripped the 'Golden Fierce Woman' and looked up at the sky: "Hansen's hovercrafts are here, or rather, troop transports. We need to get moving quickly. V, we'll provide cover for you!"

"I know."

V's voice still lingered in the air, but he had vanished like a ghost. Almost at the same moment, Oliver and Jack's gunshots suddenly rang out, bullets slicing through the scorching air and creating a new metallic storm in the ruins.

"Enemy attack! Three o'clock!"

"Those bastards from outside! Take them back!"

Amidst the rising and falling roars, V's figure moved silently through the distorted flames, like molten mercury.

The wreckage of the presidential plane is still burning, with black smoke billowing into the sky.

It was early morning, and unlike the neon-lit night city, the sunlight in Dogtown was dazzlingly clear. The warm rays pierced through the smoke and dust, casting dappled patterns on the devastated crash site.

The high temperature caused the air to distort, and the collapsed concrete blocks groaned under the heat. V's boots stepped over the molten and deformed metal frame, each step precisely landing at the boundary between shadow and flame.

Another muffled explosion came from afar, and more building debris collapsed in the shockwave. V did not hesitate at all, but simply lowered his body and moved quickly through the collapsing ruins like a black lightning bolt.

The situation is more optimistic than expected.

Even while speeding along, V did not forget to scan the crash site to assess the situation.

Through the distorted heatwave, one could clearly see the soldiers of the Ghost Hounds fiercely exchanging fire with the presidential guard's protective robots. Energy weapons and live ammunition intertwined in a deadly web of fire among the wreckage. Fortunately, the battle was still concentrated at the broken parts of the aircraft's outer shell and had not yet spread to the internal core area.

'The safety cabin should be in that direction.'

With its gaze fixed on a relatively intact section of the fuselage, V's speed suddenly increased.

The burning metal frame flew past him at high speed, the scorching air currents lifting his clothes. He was like a ghost wandering between reality and shadow, precisely avoiding the blind spots of every combatant, tearing an invisible passage through the hail of bullets, and disappearing into the torn cabin door of the plane in the blink of an eye.

The cabin interior resembled a furnace violently ripped open, a thick, sweltering heat accompanied by the smell of burning flesh. Everything had been flung from its place during the crash—leather seats were shattered as if devoured by a giant beast, electronic devices hung from the ceiling sparking, and scattered luggage and metal fragments covered the sloping floor. Several uniformed bodies were twisted and wedged between the deformed bulkheads; their frozen expressions clearly indicated they hadn't survived the initial impact.

The crackling of the flames outside continued to penetrate the metal shell, illuminating the entire space in a vibrant orange-red light. V's boots crushed a bloodstained nameplate as he continued his charge toward the safe cabin in the suffocating heat.

As V walked through the cabin, he sensed a silence different from the noise outside. It was as if all the living beings inside had fallen silent, just like the corpses lying on the ground. The entire cabin was empty, which made him frown.

Did the president get injured during landing and die because of the injury?

Just as he was thinking this, he noticed a noise, a slight, almost imperceptible noise coming from the safety cabin of his target.

"V, how's the situation?"

Through Johnny, Lark and V kept in touch.

"I'm not sure, there was no sound, but I can see the safety pod. You can open it now, I'll go take a look."

"No movement? How is that possible? Does it mean I know, President? I'll open it immediately. The President's life and safety depend on you."

The lark's voice carried a hint of worry; it was clear from his tone that he was genuinely concerned about the president's safety. The next second, the tightly closed security pod opened a crack in front of V.

V walked over and looked at the exposed opening, discovering that the so-called safe cabin was a rather cramped space. Through the gap, he could see the chaotic environment inside caused by the plane crash, but V did not see any signs of anyone being alive in the cabin.

'We didn't see the body either. Did the safe room rupture and the president get thrown out?'

With this in mind, V did indeed perceive an extremely faint breathing sound in the sweltering environment.

The breathing sound came from behind the hatch, which was not visible through the gap, as if someone was lurking there, waiting intently for someone to open the door.

"Looks like he's still alive."

After communicating with the lark, V placed one hand on the hatch and pulled it open with one hand.

The instant the hatch opened, the figure behind it suddenly raised the butt of the gun he was gripping and slammed it down at V, seemingly trying to strike first.

But the instant she raised her gun, V drew her knife.

Clearly, at this distance, a knife is much faster than a gun for V.

The attacker felt a chill on his wrist, and the pistol he had been gripping suddenly became light as a feather—the steel gun body was neatly sliced ​​into three pieces, the parts clattering and scattering all over the ground.

A sharp katana was already lying across her forward-leaning neck, its cold blade pressing against her skin, causing a slight stinging sensation.

"Nice to meet you, President Miles."

This is V's greeting.

(End of this chapter)