Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 718, Section 132: Arasaka and the Military Technology Agent

The moment his cheek slammed into the sand, the rough particles mixed with the smell of blood filling his mouth and nose, Scarface's pupils constricted sharply. His first thought flashed through his mind like a sharp blade—this was a trap.

The people who came were not allies at all; either the contact had already betrayed them, or they were simply hunters using the communication records of the dead to lure people in.

Just as his muscles tensed in preparation for a counterattack, Yarman's roar tore through the stagnant air: "Head down and lie flat!" The warning arrived almost simultaneously with the whistling of a bullet cutting through the air.

As the scorching bullet grazed the back of his neck, Scarface realized he was being pinned to the ground by Yarman's iron grip. The flying sand blinded him, but the shiver running down his spine was crystal clear—the bullet that should have pierced his heart was now deeply embedded in the pile of scrap metal behind them, making a sickening metallic creaking sound.

Yarman's combat uniform cuffs swayed before his eyes, stained with fresh blood.

The contact, whom he had never met before, was kneeling on one knee, with his other hand already holding the rifle slung across his shoulder.

The click of the weapon safety disengaging was particularly jarring in the deathly silence.

Yarman squeezed out a few broken syllables through his clenched teeth: "Sniper position at ten o'clock." Each word seemed to be forced out of his lungs, carrying the scorching smell of blood.

Scarface's gaze followed the sound upwards, his pupils suddenly contracting—a dark red stain was spreading across the right shoulder blade of Yarman's dark combat uniform, the blood trickling down the weave of the tactical vest and congealing into viscous blood beads on the holster at his waist.

In the split second of the rescue, this stranger saved him at the cost of his own injury.

Scarface's Adam's apple bobbed as he watched Yarman's trembling right hand still gripping the trigger tightly, blood dripping from between his tactical glove fingers, leaving dark craters on the scorching sand.

That bullet was clearly aimed at him, but at the last second, Yarman managed to save his life by sacrificing a graze on his arm.

In the shadows of the watchtower in the abandoned camp in the distance, a fleeting glint of gunfire flashed by.

Yarman's bloodied fingers gripped the rifle handguard tightly, the blood-soaked bandage gleaming an eerie dark red in the sunlight.

"As expected of Arasaka's bastards," he panted, staring intently at the spot where the reflection disappeared, "and they still use such insidious fighting methods."

The other party was clearly not a professional sniper—they were probably using a standard rifle set to single-shot mode. Were they afraid that the burst fire would attract the nearby Ghost Hound patrol? Or had they already noticed the sentries he had set up on the perimeter and deliberately stopped firing to prevent them from locking onto the location?
Yarman's thoughts raced, his temples throbbed, and various possibilities collided fiercely in his mind. Cold sweat mixed with dust seeped from the back of his neck and slid into his collar.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly and remained vigilant throughout. Based on his vague feeling, he was certain that Arasaka's bastard was following him. Sensing something was wrong, he immediately tackled the contact.

If that shot had actually killed the liaison, their entire operation would probably be completely ruined now.

"Take the package over carefully, it might not be just one person."

As the orders were given over the channel, Yarman and his contact began a rapid movement, completely unconcerned about a second attack thanks to his Sianwistan prosthetic body.

He was forced to take a defensive stance just now to protect this key contact person. Now, if that shooter dares to show his face again, he can accelerate the moment the shot is fired and follow the trajectory of the bullet to drag out that cowardly scumbag and tear him to pieces.

"You're the contact? Password."

As soon as he dragged Scarface into the shadows of the abandoned barracks' broken walls, Yarman pressed the gun barrel against Scarface's chest and questioned him. Scarface's Adam's apple bobbed, but his response was surprisingly quick, fluently reciting the complex code he had forcibly memorized. The two exchanged three sets of coded messages before Yarman finally released his index finger from the trigger—identity confirmed. "Where is the president?"

Yarman cut straight to the point. Although he knew the president was protected by the KK Squad, as the operation commander, he had to confirm the precise coordinates of this top priority target, as every variable could cause the entire operation to fail.

“I need to make sure you don’t lead people there.”

"It will be over soon."

Faced with Scarface's unwavering vigilance until the very end, Yarman responded with just this simple sentence.

He fully understood Scarface's concerns at that moment—if their squad were wiped out by Arasaka's agents during the operation, there was no guarantee that someone wouldn't succumb to the pressure and defect, thereby endangering the president's safety.

Since that's the case, we might as well eliminate this potential problem now.

Previously, the people from Arasaka had been lurking in the shadows, remaining inactive, and even though Yarman was on guard, he could not be 100% certain of their presence.

But now that the other party has chosen to make a move, it is equivalent to voluntarily exposing their whereabouts. As long as it is confirmed that there is indeed an ambush in the shadows, those reconnaissance methods that were originally avoided due to concerns about exposure can be put to use.

Agent Arasaka's rash opening of fire was clearly out of concern that continued fighting would alert the Ghost Hounds, but Yarman didn't care about that at all.

Based on his years of experience fighting Arasaka, he concluded that there would be no more than four or five enemies lying in ambush nearby. Otherwise, according to Arasaka's consistent fighting style, even without professional snipers, and even to avoid the gunfire attracting the Ghost Hounds, they would definitely arrange for at least two people to fire at the same time.

The fact that only one person is firing indicates that the rest of the personnel are on guard against the manpower deployed by Yarman, while also preparing an escape route for withdrawal.

"My squad will take care of them soon."

When Yarman said this, his tone was filled with unquestionable confidence.

Although the squad he led was small—only about thirty people, equivalent to a team from the Whirlpool Gang—each member was an elite handpicked by him. Thirty against four or five was a force that would leave those Arasaka agents with no chance of escape.

His years of practical experience gave him absolute confidence in the team's combat capabilities.

Even if Arasaka sent the most elite agents, they would have no chance against this team composed of battle-hardened veterans and top underworld experts. What followed would be a one-sided hunt.

That's what Yarman thought, but things soon turned out differently than he expected.

The number of Arasaka agents was indeed only five, which matched Yarman's prediction of four to five. However, the strength displayed by those five was quite exaggerated. The moment they noticed the agents engaging in combat, three members of Yarman's team fell, and this was even after they tried to escape.

"Someone come and protect the contact person. I'll go."

Yarman moved.

(End of this chapter)