Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 789, Section 203: The Old Man

Morning News: Arasaka's meeting with New America draws attention; a turning point may be on the Night City's situation.

"Good morning, everyone. This is WNS. The meeting between Arakawa Group CEO Nobuyuki Arakawa and the new US President Rosalind Myers has entered its second day, attracting global attention."

This negotiation is seen as a key signal of easing tensions between the two sides, especially against the backdrop of the continued escalation of military deployments around Night City.

The NCPD has cordoned off the area surrounding the municipal center, and armored aerial vehicles are conducting low-altitude patrols. Although officials have not disclosed the specific agenda, sources say the discussions may involve border conflicts, cybersecurity agreements, and military force adjustments. The market has reacted quickly, with the risk premium on Arasaka bonds declining and defense stocks generally falling, indicating investors' expectations for a de-escalation of the situation.

Former military technology advisor Michael pointed out that this meeting either means that one side has a decisive advantage, or that the cost of the conflict has exceeded expectations.

Meanwhile, the people of Night City are divided, with some hoping for peace and others questioning whether this is merely the calm before the storm.

Neither the White House nor Arasaka has issued a detailed statement yet, but some companies and local councils have already held emergency meetings, expressing concerns that the bilateral agreement could alter the global balance of power. For more information, please stay tuned for our reporter's upcoming live coverage of the talks. We will continue to follow developments.

The blue light from the in-car screen flickered in the dimly lit cabin, with news and messages flashing continuously.

A well-known "old handyman" in the Heywood district, this elderly deliveryman held the steering wheel with one hand and grabbed a pre-prepared sandwich with the other, taking a big bite.

Although his teeth had become sluggish, they still stubbornly ground the food in his mouth. The salty aroma of the luncheon meat and the rich flavor of the fried egg blended between his lips and teeth. The solid taste of the high-quality ingredients made his cloudy eyes light up slightly.

The delicious, authentic taste of the food slid down his esophagus, bringing a burst of vitality into his frail body. The old man smacked his lips, a satisfied smile creeping across his wrinkles.

"It has to be real meat and real eggs."

The old man muttered under his breath and swallowed the rest of the sandwich in a few bites.

In the past, such a luxurious meal would have been enough for him to savor for a whole day, and might even have been a memorable moment in his life.

But now——

He smacked his lips, savoring the lingering aroma of oil on his tongue. The luncheon meat and poached egg, made with high-quality ingredients, were no longer delicacies he could only dream of.

For an old man who had lived for more than half a century, he had seen far too much.

In his youth, he witnessed the Fourth Corporate War sweep the globe—Arasaka and the steel behemoths of military technology tearing each other apart, until the nuclear bomb exploded on the Arasaka Tower in Night City.

At the time, his family huddled in North Oak, a desolate rocky hill that later became known as a "billionaire's paradise," and narrowly escaped the disaster. However, the bright white spots of light from the day of the nuclear explosion are still etched on his retina.

Later, the North Oaks area came under the scrutiny of the city council.

In the spring of the 1950s, bulldozers, shouting slogans of "Combating Crime," razed the tin shacks along with these "human garbage" people.

There was an old NCPD officer who had worked his whole life at the bottom. Perhaps out of guilt or some kind of sympathy, he secretly slipped an egg to the younger brother during a deportation operation. The egg was originally meant for the old thug's younger brother, but in the end, the yolk went down his throat. It was warm, with a fishy smell, and a redemptive taste.

He was only ten years old at the time. He lost his parents not long after he was born and only had an older brother. He was very sensible and knew that his older brother had been raising him. In order to give his older brother strength when he worked hard to earn money, he forced the most nutritious egg yolk into the old man's mouth.

By now, the kind-hearted police officer's bones have probably turned to ash, and his younger brother's skull was blown open by a stray bullet more than ten years ago while transporting goods for the Whirlpool Gang. But the old gangster still remembers the feel of that egg yolk when he chews a real egg. — Until after 2075.

The things that have changed in the last two years are more than he has experienced in the first half of his life.

Who would have thought?

In just two short years, that old geezer who could be kicked by anyone has now become a legend on the Night City transport line, with his business card bearing the names of Adcardo, NCPD, and the Sixth Street Gang, and occasionally taking on side jobs for the Valentino Gang.

The young deliverymen no longer mocked him, but respectfully called him "Old Boss." Gang members offered him cigarettes and asked for directions, and even NCPD cops would turn a blind eye to his modified pickup truck when they inspected the goods.

Real meat was no longer a luxury, and the days of having plenty of offal made his waistline thicken. Who could have imagined that in just two years, things would change so quickly, and that the old man, who had never enjoyed a good life and had always kept his head down, would suddenly be living a life where as long as he worked, he could have good food and drink.

The old man knew very well that this change did not come from the city council, nor from the company.

The city council parasites are still dozing off in the glass tower, and the corporate dogs are still drinking champagne in their floating cars. This change didn't come from above; no one ever expected that those people would actually look down. All of this change came from that legend.

That legend named KK.

Night City today is no longer the dog-eat-dog jungle it was two years ago.

The corporate dogs can no longer just throw down a stack of blood-stained banknotes and walk away after killing someone, as they used to do. The families who knelt and cried at the NCPD's door but couldn't even get a case filing receipt no longer have to sell their assets and beg some passing mercenary to take pity on them.

Gunfire still echoes in the streets, but bullets have finally grown eyes. Gangs no longer treat passersby as easy targets during shootouts. Instead of encountering random headshots around the corner, you'll find patrolling NCPD officers, their full-body armor enough to terrify any savvy gang member the moment they meet them.

Not to mention the special operations teams.

For Night City gangs and street thugs these days, this is far more intimidating than the Terrorist SWAT team. The Terrorist SWAT team only gets deployed when things get really out of hand, while the Special Operations Team can really deliver a devastating airborne attack from their newly acquired hovercraft if they dare to cause trouble.

At the sound of an alarm, the latest hovercars will tear through the rain and descend vertically with the whistling of their turbine engines. The next day, the morgue will have several more headless corpses fitted with prosthetics, while the morning news will simply report: "The gang riot was successfully dealt with last night."

Night City is still Night City, but everything is so much better than before, giving people a sense of hope.

Although the old man himself thought it was a bit ridiculous to talk about hope at his age, it was indeed the case for him.

The old man rubbed the belt buckle and fastened it to the newly punched hole, looking somewhat dazed.

Street fighting continues, but mothers are now letting their kids buy Coke from street corners; corporate dogs still run rampant, but at least they've learned to restrain themselves and understand that there are some things they shouldn't do.

The city that consumed most of his life has truly changed.

“When you live long enough, you really can see everything.” He muttered to his chubby face in the rearview mirror, but couldn’t help but sing an old tune from Night City. It felt like being implanted with an outdated but sturdy prosthetic body—both absurd and strangely reassuring.

Under the watchful eye of the old man, the border checkpoint appeared, and the road leading to the checkpoint was already completely blocked by foreign vehicles.

(End of this chapter)