Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 821, Section 31: Mingzhi Arrives
“We did not receive any notification that anyone would be visiting today.”

As Carl and his group's vehicle slowly drove into the villa where Arasaka Hanako was being held captive, several fully armed security personnel quickly surrounded them and blocked their path.

Although the scanner had confirmed their identities—that they were indeed from Arasaka Corporation—the security guards still showed no intention of letting them pass.

"I'm sorry, even if you're on our side, we haven't received any instructions that there will be visitors today." The head security guard said in a cold tone, his eyes scanning everyone in the car warily.

These security personnel were unaware of the villa's true purpose, let alone that Arasaka Hanako was being held captive there. Their clearance level was too low to access such classified information.

All they knew was that not long ago, several security vehicles mysteriously drove into the villa area. Subsequently, some of their security personnel, including themselves, were urgently dispatched here and given a strict order—no one except the CEO himself was allowed to enter.

They knew nothing else.

At that moment, the security personnel was consulting with the security captain through an encrypted communication channel, trying to obtain clear instructions from their superiors.

In this hierarchical security system, low-level personnel like him have no authority to know the specific details of the mission. His duty is simply to guard his post, intercept suspicious persons, and then report the situation truthfully, awaiting the decision of his superiors.

However, while he was routinely reporting the situation, his fingers were silently operating on his personal terminal, recording the detailed events of the interception.

This wasn't out of professional habit—in fact, he always did a perfunctory job of keeping the company's required action log. The reason he did this was because of a certain 'side job'.

This security guard secretly maintained contact with a mysterious organization that was particularly interested in information about the Arasaka Corporation. Each time he submitted an action log containing information about Arasaka's internal activities, his anonymous account would receive a considerable reward.

These illicit incomes significantly improved his quality of life. Even when he went to Genting Casino a few days ago, he spent much more lavishly than usual. Thinking of this, a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips, and his fingers tapped more rapidly on the terminal.

However, his record soon came to an end.

Because in front of him, the bulletproof window of the car was slowly being lowered, and as the window was lowered, a dark gun muzzle was revealed in front of him.

When you take action, you must be swift and efficient.

— Clearly, David understands this well.

The moment the gunshot rang out, V's figure had already vanished.

V's prosthetic eye clearly captured the trajectory of the gun in David's hand—the scorching bullet tore through the air, leaving a burning trail in the night sky, like the scythe of death, pointing directly at the head of the security guard beside him.

Just as the bullet was about to pierce the tactical helmet, V's S.A.S ...

The world suddenly slowed down.

V's figure flickered in the gap where time seemed to stand still.

He pushed open the car door with one hand, jumped down from the other side, and landed with his katana already drawn. The metallic buzzing of the blade rubbing against the scabbard had not yet dissipated when he shattered the stone slabs on the ground. In the instant the gravel flew, V crashed into the security guards surrounding the vehicle like a cannonball.

The samurai sword, which he named 'Barkel' as a kind of tribute to his former tribe, drew a scarlet arc through the air.

The first slash aimed at the leader's neck. The nano-coated blade collided with the military-grade tactical armor, bursting into a cluster of dazzling blue-white sparks. This armor, which was clearly reinforced against blades, was easily sliced ​​through like paper under V's blade.

Before the blood could even gush out, V had already spun around and unleashed a second slash.

His movements were fluid and graceful, every muscle exerting force with mechanical precision. The hum of the blade cutting through the air and the crisp sound of bones breaking rang out almost simultaneously. The last thing the security guards saw reflected in their prosthetic eyes was a blurry, scarlet afterimage—the last color they would ever see in their lives.

"Enemy attack!"

When V swiftly eliminated the nearby security personnel, the outer perimeter security forces immediately responded.

The well-trained armed personnel quickly raised their smart weapons, the holographic sights flashing red lights indicating they had locked onto the target, attempting to capture the ghostly figure.

At the same time, the hum of turbine engines came from the sky—a dozen or so armed drones that had been circling and on guard suddenly swooped down, their rapid-fire machine guns under their fuselages already preheated, the barrels spinning and emitting a deadly hum, ready to unleash a storm of metal at any moment.

The most deadly threat comes from those cold security robots. They don't have the brief hesitation of humans; their tactical processors calculate the optimal solution in an instant.

The mechanical joints turned silently, and the multi-barreled machine guns were all aimed at the vehicle that was still stationary. In their combat logic, eliminating relatively stationary targets first was the most efficient combat strategy—prioritizing the removal of personnel from the vehicle.

All the robots' weapon systems simultaneously lit up with a red lock-on indicator.

However, just as the security system was about to fire—

The car door suddenly swung open, and three dark figures darted out like demons!
Oliver and David's S.A.S ...

The guns in their hands unleashed a torrent of ammunition in the slow passage of time, their muzzles drawing streaks of orange-red fire across the slow spacetime. Before the drones in the air could even adjust their trajectory, they were pierced through the core by precisely fired bullets and exploded into fireballs one after another.

Compared to his companions, Jack chose the most brutal method.

The burly man charged into the crowd like a runaway rhinoceros. Jack's speed was far beyond what one would expect for someone his size. Before anyone could react, his thick arms were already swinging.

A fist capable of contending with a heavyweight boxing champion covered in military-grade protective gear and leaving marks on his body has been thrown, a fist as powerful as a cannonball.

"boom!"

The front-line security guard's chest was visibly dented, his subcutaneous armor twisted and deformed like a stressed steel plate, but even more deadly was the shockwave—his internal organs, penetrating the protective layer, were instantly pulverized, and the bulletproof plate on his back exploded with a "crack," leaving a fist-shaped bulge. After defeating the boxing champion and changing the boxing match that Old Wei's clinic had been playing to his own, although Jack still didn't want to make any modifications to his arms that resembled a gorilla's, he did make adjustments to some parts.

Now, Jack's arms are equipped with nanofibers and heavy subcutaneous armor resembling boxing gloves. With the help of hydraulic joints at his elbows, his punches are powerful enough to smash the head of a large truck. The human body is far too fragile in the face of his fists.

The second security guard had just raised his smart rifle when Jack's backhand punch struck him, sending him spinning and flying through the air almost instantly.

Jack's rampage within the security group was like Adam's Hammer to the 100 ninjas who, having received orders to act simultaneously and target the security perimeter around the wall, saw it as a direct attack.

'What a formidable member.'

The 100 ninjas, who didn't know much about Arasaka in the Night City, didn't feel much emotion because they were required to suppress their feelings during training. They just silently assessed the threat in their hearts.

As expected of people from another continent, even a combat squad can possess such strength. Or is it that the people under that wise man are just too outstanding?
As expected of an elite who can thrive in enemy territory and obtain crucial intelligence while under surveillance, his subordinates are equally outstanding.

While mentally assessing the threat, these well-trained ninjas had already begun their operation, their figures suddenly appearing from the optical camouflage, approaching the security personnel along the wall like ghosts.

Before the guards could react to the commotion on Jack's side, the ninjas' blades had already silently arrived—some wielded poisoned ninja tools, their cold light flashing as they pierced the heart; others flicked out mantis knives from their wrists, the blades grazing the throats before even a muffled groan could be heard.

Death comes silently and swiftly.

The ninjas moved with mechanical precision, ensuring their targets were completely incapacitated with every strike. Some had barely taken a step to support their comrades when warm blood spurted from their necks; others had just barely touched the trigger when a blood-stained blade suddenly appeared in their chests.

The whole process took only a few seconds, and all the security personnel along the wall were eliminated.

Even with only ten members, the members of the 100-ninja squad acted swiftly and decisively, giving the enemy no chance to resist—like a meticulously choreographed killing dance, every movement aimed at reaping lives most efficiently.

Or rather, it was precisely because only ten people were present, and the members of the 100-person ninja group were all the most elite members, that they were able to deal with the people even faster than Jack's group.

While the number of people and the fact that Jack's security personnel were the main factors, the ninjas' essential job was to protect them. They were faster than mercenaries at killing, which truly demonstrated that their abilities were worthy of the name "Ninja Hundred".

Having finally escaped being caught in the middle, Karl slowly got out of the car and noticed the ninja hundred men's attack. Despite being surrounded by bullets, he paid no attention to the bullets whizzing past him and instead began to admire them inwardly.

'Your skills are quite impressive. The agility of your movements is such that even V would have a hard time dealing with them.'

When faced with someone with exceptional skills, Karl never hesitates to offer praise and evaluation, because it would be rather petty not to admire someone who possesses skills worthy of learning.

Bullets sparked as they hit the concrete, but Karl watched with the same focused concentration as if he were watching a performance. He keenly observed each ninja's preferred hiding spot, the angle of their attack, and even noted the subtle force they used when gripping their weapons.

These seemingly insignificant personal characteristics are as distinct as fingerprints in Karl's eyes—even the most well-trained ninja will develop unique muscle memory through countless repetitions. It is these subtle differences that transform a cold killing machine into a flesh-and-blood individual.

People are never the same. Even clones are two completely different people. If you think you can turn a group of people into one by simply erasing their feelings, that would be too arrogant.

The differences between people need to be acknowledged, and the way to bring them together is never to extinguish their feelings and turn them into robots. Even robots have differences due to the wear and tear of their parts. Only shared aspirations, similar ideas, and common feelings can bring people together as a whole.

Even the 100 ninjas that old man Saburo Arasaka was so proud of weren't a unified group. Although their actions were similar and their movements seemed to follow a template, they were still human, different human beings after all.

Standing amidst the hail of bullets, Karl suddenly craved a sip of sweet tea. There was no particular reason; perhaps it was simply because remembering their actions and thoughts had taken too much of his brainpower, and he needed something sweet to relieve the fatigue.

Although I've heard that sugar isn't very useful when you're mentally exhausted, and that too much of it is bad for your health.

During this brief moment of reflection, Carl, who hadn't made a move, looked at Johnny, who was waiting in the car, and after gesturing for him to wait there, glanced around.

With Oliver, David, V, and Jack taking action, and the 100 ninjas starting their operation, these 'specially' selected security personnel crumbled almost instantly.

Ultimately, they lacked a heavyweight figure to unify the situation, but dealing with this group of headless flies, whose command had already retreated, wasn't particularly difficult.

The hardest part of this whole thing is definitely finding the relevant intelligence.
As long as we have information about Hanako's hiding place, rescuing Arasaka Hanako is not difficult at all. Even without me, I can do it myself if I send Chiki.

Fortunately, he had an "insider"—a high-ranking one at that—who allowed him to skip the most difficult intelligence gathering phase. Otherwise, if he had been in the same situation as the pheasant faction, he would have had a headache for a while.

As the last security guard collapsed heavily to the ground, Mingzhi stepped over the bullet casings scattered on the floor and entered the villa's lobby.

The members of the 100-ninja group were scattered like shadows at various strategic points. Their weapons, still dripping blood, gleamed coldly, but they had already completed the transformation from killers to guardians.

In a special monitoring room on the second floor, which had undergone triple biometric identification, Hanako Arasaka sat upright at a tea table. Her hair was styled in an elegant traditional updo, and the Arasaka family crest embroidered on the cuffs of her kimono gleamed with a dark gold luster under the soft light.

Oda Santao remained kneeling behind her like a samurai. Although his gun and prosthetic body had been confiscated and sealed, his taut muscles still showed his determination to protect his master with his own body at any time.

"Miss Hanako, Mr. Oda, I'm late."

The sound of Mingzhi pushing open the door made both of them look up at the same time.

In Hanako Arasaka's pupils, the gentle and calm figure was reflected. Goro Akechi's suit was still spotless, and his gaze behind his glasses was gentle yet firm, as if the bloody storm outside had nothing to do with him.

Oda Santau's Adam's apple bobbed. This bodyguard, who was usually unsmiling, had a hint of relief flash in his eyes.

The loyal and devoted wise man has arrived.

(End of this chapter)