Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 779, Section 193: The Arrival of Personnel in the New America
At 7:00 a.m. sharp, the first round of security checks was completed.

The holographic projection's scan data slowly dissipated in the air, like sand art erased by an invisible hand. The remaining light particles shimmered briefly in the morning light before finally returning to nothingness.

Security personnel in various uniforms were scattered in twos and threes in their respective guard areas. Their taut knuckles were pressed against the smart weapons at their waists, and their eyes were like precision scanners, repeatedly examining every corner that might be hiding danger.

The air was filled with the subtle hum of electronic devices, like countless tiny machines flowing through blood vessel-like circuits;

A faint smell of disinfectant seeped from the ventilation openings—this was the purified gas continuously released by the building's intelligent temperature control system, carrying a cool, metallic scent mixed with mint.

In this brief moment of calm, the titanium alloy bulletproof elevator on the floor suddenly made a soft 'ding' sound. The sound was not loud, but it was like a sharp blade cutting through the solidified air.

The mirror-like metal door slid open silently, and a man in a dark gray suit with subtle patterns stepped out.

His leather shoes tapped rhythmically on the path through the jungle leading to the conference table, each step so precise it was as if calibrated by sound waves, instantly causing the pupils of all the security personnel to contract sharply.

This is the first attendee to arrive today.

The nearest security guard instinctively straightened his spine, his uniform shoulder line creased sharply by the sudden tension in his muscles.

His right thumb unconsciously rubbed the edge of his earpiece. This subtle movement instantly activated the team's communication. The three operatives hidden behind the trees immediately adjusted their positions, their shadows intersecting on the ground and changing as the man moved.

The man didn't even spare a glance for these reactions, as if the armed men poised to attack were nothing more than the most insignificant weeds by the roadside.

He walked calmly toward the central conference area, his custom-made leather shoes making a rhythmic sound on the cobblestone floor.

As his slender fingers brushed against the back of the chair, his nails were perfectly manicured, and the platinum watch chain on his wrist gleamed coldly under the light. His motion of sitting down was fluid and graceful, exuding an innate elegance that made the air in the entire floor momentarily still.

The entire floor came to life.

As the first attendee arrived, the security level on the entire floor instantly rose to the highest alert level. An invisible tension filled the air, and all security personnel became more vigilant.

Akechi quickly assessed the stranger—he carried no Arasaka Group logo, and his demeanor was completely different from that of the executives trained by Arasaka.

More importantly, Mingzhi did not know this man.

With Akechi's current level of access, almost all of Arasaka's internal staff information—especially the basic information of senior managers—is available to him.

This is Arasaka's consistent rule: to prevent subordinates from offending their superiors without their knowledge, each employee's job title, department, and even part of their resume are entered into the system for authorized personnel to view.

However, the file of the person in front of me was completely blank within the scope of my authority.

Not a member of Arasaka
People from the New America?
Mingzhi's fingertips tapped lightly on the gun handle at his waist as his thoughts raced. This guy was not only the first to arrive at the venue, but he was also all alone, without even a bodyguard or assistant.

What was even more alarming was his composed demeanor—there was no feigned humility, nor a hint of provocation, as if he were simply attending an ordinary business meeting.

He was able to remain so calm and composed at the Arasaka headquarters, and was even the first to attend the meeting alone.
This calm and composed demeanor was not something an ordinary entourage member could possess. Could it be Rosalind Miles's confidant, one of her most capable lieutenants?
If that's the case, then that woman has truly staked everything she has this time.

Those sent to lead the charge at this critical juncture must be figures from Rosalind's inner circle—perhaps even her shadow advisors handling various 'special matters'.

If such a person were to perish at the Arasaka Building, Rosalind's power network, built up over many years in New America, would likely collapse instantly like dominoes.

"It's all or nothing."

This desperate approach was quite in line with the governing style of the new US president, but on second thought, with Hansen holding the fatal handle of 'The Nightingale,' Rosalind had indeed been driven to a dead end.

That political nuclear bomb could detonate at any moment, shattering her presidential throne.

In this situation, rather than waiting to die, it's better to gamble with your last bit of capital and take a chance.

This is both a struggle in despair and the gambler's nature inherent in politicians. After all, for a power animal like Rosalind, it's better to gamble big than to slowly bleed to death—win and take it all, lose and simply exit the stage early.

A wise gaze swept over the other party's composed figure, and he suddenly found the meeting quite interesting. If what he expected was true, then what was unfolding in the Arasaka Building today would be a life-or-death struggle concerning the future of the new America.

If Rosalind Myers can reach an agreement today, the situation in which she represents the pheasant faction in negotiating with Hansen may change.

With the tacit approval of Arasaka, a major enemy of the new America, dealing with Hansen, who could only survive in the cracks between major companies, would be a piece of cake.

Hansen has been able to survive until now entirely because he skillfully utilizes Dogtown's unique neutral position to maintain a precarious balance between the various powers.

However, when New America officially enters the fray, especially with the tacit approval of its old rival, the Arasaka Group, this power game will take a fatal turn.

Hansen's meager armed forces were utterly no match for the new American regular army.

Even though New America is constrained by the intricate web of corporate interests in Dogtown, preventing it from sending a large-scale, organized force to the town, the mere fact that its arch-enemy Arasaka might loosen its stance and tacitly allow its special forces to enter would be enough to overturn the entire power structure of Dogtown.

What awaits Hansen then will not only be a change of regime, but also the most brutal reckoning of a traitor by the new United States.

For Dogtown, regime change and power shifts are just a matter of a snap of the fingers—even though the new United States has become a second-rate country, as a state apparatus, crushing a small Dogtown king is still a piece of cake.

Perhaps it was because he understood this principle that Hansen was willing to take the risk of attempting to assassinate Rosalind Miles to disrupt the talks. After the operation failed, he clung to the lark like a drowning man grasping at a piece of driftwood, desperately hoping to find a way out of this dead end.

King of Dogtown.

As he pondered this, his hand unconsciously tapped the gun again.

It's like lightly tapping a chess piece on a chessboard.

(End of this chapter)