Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 863, Section 73: The Well-Equipped Cleaners
"He's a bastard who had his kidneys removed."

Carl reported the situation to Jack and the others in the carriage via the channel: "There are about thirty to forty people on the other side. It's not a small group. They are well-equipped. I saw smart weapons. Their prosthetic bodies are also quite good. Many of them have subcutaneous armor."

"Damn it, Dogtown is really a 'place of outstanding people and resources,' even the Cleaners are equipped with smart weapons and subcutaneous armor now?" Oliver cursed as he looked at the outside situation through the monitor screen on the inside of the carriage. He then asked, "Was this a premeditated attack?"

"It doesn't seem like it. Judging from their modus operandi, they may have just roughly figured out the transport route of the Ghost Hounds and ambushed them randomly nearby. The locations they chose weren't particularly clever, but we can't rule out other possibilities. In any case, everyone be careful."

“Understood,” Jack replied. “We’ll open the trunk and come out to help.”

In such a place, if attacked, the vehicle will automatically send out an emergency distress signal, and the Ghost Hound's support will arrive soon. When operating, you must be careful not to reveal too much of your true strength.

After explaining the number of Ghosthounds to Jack and the others, Carl picked up the Ghosthound Modified Ajax that he had set aside. Luckily, the gun hadn't suffered much damage in the earlier impact, and after Carl adjusted it, it was still usable.

Carl's finger rested firmly on the trigger. Through the cracked windshield, he calmly observed the battlefield. He didn't fire immediately but quickly assessed the situation—the scavengers clearly hadn't expected the vehicle, which had been hit by an RPG, to still be able to retaliate. Their formation was somewhat scattered, and they were using abandoned vehicles and piles of rubble as cover as they advanced in shifts.

So he decisively got out of the car.

"Maintain formation! Use the vehicles for defense! Jack, Oliver, form a crossfire with me and suppress those bastards trying to flank us on the left!" Carl's voice came through the Ghost Hound's internal channel, while he muted the recording and instructed the others, "The other three, provide frontal suppression fire, don't let them raise their heads!"

"clear."

Without a doubt, the other five immediately obeyed Karl's instructions.

The only outsider on this transport mission is unconscious, and the communication channels are blocked. Everyone present is aware of the situation, so there is no need to pretend as before.

Not to mention Jack and Oliver, Karl's longtime comrades-in-arms, even the three members Hans planted in the Hounds instinctively chose to obey and cooperate when they heard KK's command.

One of their main purposes for this trip was to receive guidance from KK and improve their combat skills. Now that they have actually heard his instructions, how could they hesitate to carry them out?
Upon receiving the order, Karl fired first, his Ajax assault rifle spitting out short, precise bursts. He deliberately controlled the rate of fire, each bullet seemingly calculated to hit the scavenger's position precisely, ensuring that it wouldn't leave too many traceable marks of powerful and accurate shooting.

Karl's penalty kick threw the sweeper into a brief moment of panic.

"Damn it, Hansen's bastard is still alive, be careful! There are still people in that car, probably elites who got off the train, more than one!" A sharp voice rang out in the Cleaner's communication channel.

"Suppress them! Hurry up and finish this! Stop fucking hiding! Where's the rocket launcher?! Fire another one at them!" another voice roared in exasperation.

"Idiots! Don't damage the truck! The boss wants the cargo! There's something wrong with the number of people in this truck, and the defenses are too strong. Hansen might be transporting something extremely important! Take care of them before the Ghost Hounds' reinforcements arrive! Steal the cargo!" A man who sounded like the leader shouted sharply, his voice tinged with impatience. "Hurry up! Don't waste time stripping them of their cybernetic bodies! There's no time for disemboweling! Get the cargo and get out of here immediately!"

Under the command of someone who seemed to be the leader of this group of scavengers, the scavengers adjusted their formation and readjusted their advancing posture with five or six times more people than the hounds.

Approximately ten people continuously sprayed fierce but inaccurate fire from the front, relentlessly pursuing the three Ghost Hound team members who were using the vehicle's body for defense.

Another squad of seven or eight men intensified their firepower suppression on Jack and Oliver on the left. The red aiming laser of the smart weapon kept sweeping across the side of the vehicle, forcing the two to frequently change firing positions.

Five or six others attempted to make a deeper detour through the ruins further to the right, trying to get to the weak point at the rear of the vehicle, but were kept in place by Karl's occasional sniper shots, making it difficult for them to advance effectively.

In the fierce firefight, bullets rained down on the armored vehicle, creating a continuous barrage of explosions.

Although the thick armor plates temporarily resisted direct penetration, under such concentrated fire, dents and deformed welds began to appear. Occasionally, stray or ricocheting bullets would seep into the gaps, making a heart-stopping whooshing sound.

"Damn! Are these mad dogs on drugs?! Their firepower is insane!" Jack ducked back to avoid a barrage of bullets that ricocheted off the car door frame. "No wonder they dared to hijack the cargo. This firepower could wipe out an entire city block!"

"Three o'clock to the right! On the second floor of that ruin! There's a bastard with a sniper rifle! He's been aiming at us!" Oliver calmly reported the location, while simultaneously firing a burst of fire, forcing the scavenger who was trying to find an opening with his sniper rifle to duck back.

As he forced the scavenger back, Oliver saw what kind of gun he was holding.

"Damn it, the rumor is that only three hundred Ice Storms were made. I even treasured those guns, and I actually saw them on a group of scavengers!"

Oliver couldn't help but curse in the channel: "And judging by its appearance, it's been modified. What a waste. I can tell from its appearance that it's probably been fitted with some kind of electro-optical coating so that it's electrified when it fires. If a sniper rifle can be modified like that, does it still think it's not bright enough?!"

Oliver's feelings at this moment were exactly like a model kit enthusiast watching helplessly as someone adds a bunch of fancy modifications to his treasured limited edition model, turning it into a strange, incongruous thing—besides heartache, he also wanted nothing more than to drag the other person over and "reason with them."

"I also hacked into the Cleaner's equipment for you. He calls this modified ice storm 'Electric Spark,' and you know what, if it really does fire and become electrified, that's quite fitting."

As Carl spoke, he deftly changed the magazine, then raised his gun and fired continuously. In a seemingly casual round of suppressive fire, a stray bullet 'coincidentally' hit a scavenger who had just peeked out from behind cover.

The bullet pierced the man's forehead precisely—the scavenger, though equipped with subcutaneous armor, had his upper face completely exposed. Instantly, brain matter and blood splattered, and he fell heavily backward without uttering a sound.

"Damn, those bastards have a real barrage of firepower!"

Holding a genuine assault rifle, the leader of this street cleaner was somewhat stunned by the sudden and fierce resistance.

As initially planned, a volley of RPGs would be enough to disable the vehicle, and the rest would be an easy and enjoyable harvesting time. However, they unexpectedly encountered a tough nut to crack.

The enemy's firepower was well-balanced, and their tactical maneuvers were standard. Although they didn't seem to display any impressive cybernetic abilities—at least no one suddenly accelerated to the point of being invisible to the naked eye or sprang out mantis blades from their arms to wreak havoc—the defensive resilience they built on discipline, teamwork, and tenacity made them extremely difficult for the Cleaners, who were used to using underhanded tactics, taking advantage of favorable situations, and bullying weak targets.

They had attacked the Ghost Hound soldiers before, but these Ghost Hound soldiers didn't seem to have any particularly outstanding weapons, nor did they seem to possess any powerful cybernetic bodies. Why were they so difficult to deal with? It always felt like they were just one breath away from overpowering them, but they just couldn't catch that last breath.

The battle lasted for more than twenty seconds. Scavengers kept rushing forward or being hit by stray bullets and falling down. But on the Ghost Hound's side, apart from the pilot who was seriously injured at the beginning, only one team member was grazed on the arm by a stray bullet that passed through the gap in the armor. Blood stained his sleeve, but he just cursed, simply tore open the first aid kit with his mouth, pressed the wound, injected the full dose of medicine, and continued to fire.

Don't underestimate them.

Let's not even talk about how the Weapons Department was originally only for outstanding Ghost Hounds who were transferred to enjoy such a comfortable position. They were all Hanz's people, and the fact that they were able to infiltrate under Hansen's command meant that while their skills were not as good as KK's and the others, and they needed Hansen's guidance and training, it didn't mean that they were not capable.

To gain the trust of a wary middleman like Hans, to work for him, and to provide support for Karl, they are all elites, qualified to have a drink in the afterlife. You should know that even in Night City, which has eight million people, there are only a few thousand mercenaries qualified to sit and take on jobs in the afterlife. Saying it's one in ten thousand might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it's definitely one in a thousand.

In order to disguise themselves, they didn't install any cybernetics. Otherwise, Carl, Jack, and Oliver wouldn't have needed to lift a finger; the three of them could have taken care of this unusual group of cleaners.

However, their combat skills alone are something the Scavengers cannot defeat with equipment and numbers.

"From being a roadside dog to being able to bark a few times, the cleaner dog is quite troublesome."

Carefully firing from behind cover, a Ghosthound said to Karl in the channel, "Mr. KK, we have received a response from support, and they will be here shortly."

"How much longer?" Carl's voice was steady. A seemingly casual burst of fire forced a scavenger who was trying to throw a grenade to retreat. The grenade exploded not far from the enemy's cover, eliciting screams and curses.

"No more than three minutes," the team member quickly replied.

"It's quite efficient, but it seems the people on the other end are also very clear about it."

Carl looked towards the Scavenger huddled behind cover in the distance, and could already hear the furious curses coming from the other side's channel.

Clearly, the Ghost Hounds' response time far surpassed that of the NCPD back in the day. Not only were their own men aware of this, but even the Cleaners who frequently harassed them knew it all too well. Seeing that their numbers outnumbered the enemy's, yet they were still unable to take down this Ghost Hound squad, the Cleaners' leader finally snapped.

"Useless! A bunch of useless trash! So many people and you can't even take down a few bastards?! Push them! Use grenades! Smoke grenades! As long as you don't damage the car, do whatever you want, don't fucking be afraid of dying!" The leader roared hoarsely, but he himself shrank even further behind the thick cover.

Urged on by his frantic urging, the remaining scavengers launched an even more frenzied attack, as if whipped. Several grenades flew in arcs around the truck, and explosions rang out one after another, shaking the ground and clattering against the armor.

"Be careful and avoid it!" Carl's voice rang out on the channel.

boom! boom!
The blast wave kicked up a lot of dust and debris, and thick smoke grenades were quickly thrown out, the grayish-white smoke spreading rapidly and severely obstructing visibility.

"Smoke obscures our vision! Be careful they get close in the chaos!" Oliver warned over the channel, his prosthetic eye beginning to glow red, but thanks to the camouflage chip, it appeared unchanged.

"Left! Footsteps! At least three people are sneaking over here through the smoke!" Jack caught the subtle movement and immediately began blind firing in that direction.

The intense firefight became somewhat muffled in the smoke, and the red smart weapon aiming lasers swept haphazardly through the smoke, searching for targets, while the whistling of bullets became even more frequent.

"We can't let them get any closer!" the wounded Ghosthound team member said through gritted teeth. He risked peeking out and fired a burst of submachine gun at the direction of what sounded like footsteps in the smoke, eliciting several cries of pain and the sound of a body falling to the ground. But this immediately provoked a fiercer counterattack, with bullets hitting the steel plates of the vehicle above his head and sending sparks flying. He had to retreat again.

Just then, the scavenger leader, who had been hiding in the distance, seemed to see an opportunity. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Now! Everyone, charge! They're over there. Take care of them, steal the car, and we're out!"

The remaining twenty-odd scavengers, as if injected with adrenaline, let out frantic howls and launched a final charge from all directions, disregarding casualties. Footsteps, shouts, and gunshots mingled together, echoing through the smoke. You could only hear the sounds, but couldn't see anything at all.

"They're fighting desperately!" Jack shouted, emptying the last magazine and quickly changing it.

"Full firepower! Don't hold back on ammo! Support is on its way!" Karl commanded. His firing rate finally increased slightly, but he still maintained astonishing accuracy. Every burst of fire was accompanied by the fall or delay of a charging figure.

However, there were still too many scavengers left, and they were completely disregarding casualties. Bullets flew like a torrent, making it almost impossible for anyone to lift their heads. One of the Ghost Hound members was hit in the thigh by a stray bullet during a reload, and he groaned and fell to his knees.

"Damn it."

He cursed and pulled out a hand grenade, clearly intending to deal a heavy blow to the group of cleaners.

That's when.

Whoosh—!
A deep, furious roar from an engine came from afar, tearing through the noise of the battlefield as it rapidly approached.

Hearing that familiar voice, Karl smiled slightly.

"Let's treat him first, Oliver, give him a hand."

As Carl spoke, he looked back through the smoke.

"Backup is here."

Amidst the terrified cries of the cleaners, several fully armed Colby Ghost Hounds arrived.

(End of this chapter)