Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 710, Section 124: The Tramp's Territory
In Dogtown, in a basement within an abandoned complex, lies the current location of the KK team.

in the darkness.

“Power has been confirmed to be available. Shall we pull it now?” Oliver’s finger hovered above the rusty lever as he turned to ask his companion for his opinion.

"Pull him down." Jack's voice sounded particularly calm in the darkness.

"Okay." After receiving confirmation, Oliver took a deep breath.

Hearing Jack's affirmative reply, Oliver pulled down the lever in front of him with all his might.

With a buzzing sound of electricity passing through, the entire dim basement was instantly illuminated. The exposed light bulbs hanging from the ceiling flickered violently a few times before illuminating the four people who had been waiting in the darkness for a long time—V was gripping the gun handle warily, Jack was stretching his stiff neck, and Rosalind Miles was in the corner with a restless dog.

"Damn it, I never imagined there would be electricity underground in these old houses." Oliver squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. "It seems there are more haphazardly connected wires in Dogtown than I thought."

He kicked the exposed electrical wires in the corner with the tip of his rubber boot. "I remember the Ghost Hounds charge residents for electricity, don't they? Don't they care about these blatantly exposed wires?"

Under the light, Oliver looked at the clutter piled up in the bright basement and muttered something. The electrical meter box on the wall had obviously been modified, and the digital display screen had long since stopped flashing.

“This might be a hideout for some homeless people from Dogtown,” V said, lowering his hand from his gun after surveying the surroundings.

He kicked away a few empty beer cans at his feet, the sound of the metal rolling was particularly jarring in the enclosed space.

“When we asked T-BUG to help us find a hiding place earlier, we were in such a hurry that we didn’t pay attention to the details. Now let’s take a closer look—” His gaze swept over the dusty equipment. “There’s actually quite a lot of equipment in this basement: a disassembled junction box, a splitter wrapped in insulating tape, and…” He lowered his voice and gestured with his chin to the corner.

There were several illegally connected wires coiled on the ground like snakes, and in the corner there was a pile of old sofas with wrinkled blankets still shaped like human figures. Next to it, a small, yellowed refrigerator was humming irregularly.

"Judging from the signs, there are probably about three people living here." V walked to the sofa, squatted down, and used the barrel of his gun to lift a blanket, dust falling in the light. "See how many blankets there are? One for each person would be just right."

"A homeless person in Dogtown who has a basement as a place to live, illegally connecting to the circuit?" Jack kicked an empty can at his feet, the metallic clanging sound particularly jarring in the silent space.

"They're probably just homeless people who couldn't make it in the city, or they're just wanderers from outside who have nowhere to go, so they came to Dog Town."

“That’s typical of a homeless person.” V stood up and dusted off his gun. “Ordinary homeless people are very careful about their personal belongings. Even if it’s just a can of beer or a cigarette, they’d rather hide it away, worried that their companions might take it when they’re not at the hideout.”

He walked to the broken sofa in the corner, his fingers tracing the worn leather. "I think this kind of broken sofa where everyone has one and a blanket to cover themselves is more like the style of a homeless person from out of town."

V continued, "They don't fight individually, but operate like a small group. This is a cooperative habit they developed within the tribe—you bring back equipment to connect the circuits, I go to the junkyard to rummage through broken sofas and blankets, and you take everyone's money to find a broken refrigerator for everyone to use."

He paused, a slight smile playing on his lips, and said, "This kind of cooperative approach is quite rare in the city."

"Is it that the homeless in the city won't do, but the homeless from outside will?" Oliver crossed his arms, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“But I do have to admit that.” He looked around, his gaze sweeping over the simple yet orderly arrangement.

“This certainly looks like the style of vagrants. It seems this outpost hasn’t been established for long, and these three vagrants are just average-skilled—” he chuckled. “Otherwise, with this level of cooperation, they could have easily established a small outpost in the city, instead of ending up in this wretched place like Dogtown.”

“A Santo Domingo guy is looking down on Dogtown.” Jack grinned, his tone laced with familiar sarcasm. “What are you saying—” Oliver rolled his eyes, “You, a Haywood guy, aren’t you looking down on Santo Domingo too?”

“I think Haywood is definitely better than Santo Domingo.”

"Then we can only say that it's exactly the opposite."

Rosalind Miles listened quietly as Oliver and Jack defended their neighborhood and teased each other.

She gleaned from their conversation some insights into the current situation that only people on the streets would understand, which gave her a new understanding of the chaos before her. After a moment, she suddenly spoke:
Is it possible that those three homeless men will come back now?

Her voice was soft, yet enough to make everyone turn their heads. Rosalind met their gazes and continued:

"After the plane crash, Dogtown must be under martial law and in chaos. Smart people would retreat to their strongholds and wait and see what happens."

She paused, then said, "Wouldn't it be too conspicuous if we stayed here?"

"That's certainly a possibility."

After listening to Rosalind's analysis, V looked around thoughtfully, his gaze finally settling on a shadowy spot hidden by a tattered curtain in the corner.

Lifting the greasy curtain, an old-fashioned computer covered in dust was revealed, with a few cigarette wisps stuck in the gaps between the keyboard keys.

"Looks like we're in luck."

He expertly pressed the power button, the screen flickered a few times before lighting up, and as his fingers rapidly tapped on the keyboard, records scrolled across the worn display. V squinted, leaning closer to the screen to carefully read the scattered log entries.

“These wanderers have a habit of recording their daily movements. They’re from the Twin Bulls tribe.” His voice suddenly became more interested. “Oh? I’ve heard of this tribe. They’re very reliable. When I was in the tribe before, I heard that some people did business with them, and they offered very fair prices.”

Seeing that V had found the record, the others gathered around him without prior arrangement.

V continued interpreting the information on the screen: "It seems the Twin Bulls tribe was wiped out by those Snake Gang guys a while ago." His finger hovered over a record.
"There are indeed three people living here. They are remnants who survived the destruction of their tribe and plan to take revenge on the Serpent Clan."

V snorted: "The plan was to use Night City as a base to develop our influence, but..." He tapped the last few records with his finger, "When we were passing through the outpost, we were caught sneaking around transporting the company's creatures. The three of us panicked and ended up escaping to Dogtown thanks to some past connections."

"So they really are wanderers. No wonder this place has no basic security. They must be newcomers who just entered the city. They're used to living in the tribe and don't know how to set up necessary security measures in the city."

Oliver stared at the message log, about to say something more, when the surveillance cameras they had left before entering the house detected them.

Connected.

In the surveillance footage connected to Oliver's prosthetic eye, three homeless people, chatting and laughing, whose clothes, though old, were still quite neat, were heading towards this place.

(End of this chapter)