Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 864, Section 74: Changing the Route
After the arrival of the Ghost Hound's reinforcements, the remaining Scavengers were completely routed.

They have the guts to ambush Netherworld Hounds by the roadside, not just the guts, but the courage to directly confront an equally numerous Netherworld Hounds is giving them too much credit.

A street cleaner is a street cleaner, even if they are far better equipped and have far superior cybernetic features than the street cleaners in the city.

Rather, if they truly possessed the incredible skill to fight the Netherhounds head-on without outnumbering them, but rather in a fair and just contest, they wouldn't have ended up as street cleaners.

Besides the fact that the work done by these cleaners is dirty, the main thing is that they only ever target those weaker than themselves. Even if they occasionally dare to lay a finger on the stronger ones, they will run away faster than anyone else as soon as they sense that something is wrong.

The reason they were able to launch a brave charge under the leadership of their leader was not only because the smoke grenades obstructed their vision, but also because they thought they outnumbered the enemy. It would be strange if they didn't run away when the situation turned around.

Faced with the Scavengers who ran without regard for anything else, only hoping to outrun their companions and exposing their backs, the approaching Ghost Hound skillfully rode the Colby Ghost Hound, using its weapons to reap the lives of the Scavengers. It looked somewhat like the grassland riders of the past driving away defeated soldiers in war.

After the reinforcements from the Ghost Hounds arrived, in the gradually dissipating smoke, Karl displayed a marksmanship at the level of an ordinary Ghost Hound. However, seeing that a Scavenger had actually escaped into the ruins of a house by the roadside, his eyes followed him.

But he simply followed them, and did not fire a shot until the scavengers had completely disappeared from sight.

"Remember?"

He asked Oliver and Jack on the channel.

"Remember, you've hacked and tracked everyone, you can see them all too clearly. Notify V to see if he's finished dealing with the cyber psychopaths and come to Dogtown to clean up some trash."

Oliver spoke into the channel, his eyes flickering, his fingers twitching slightly, but he managed to restrain himself from slaughtering all the scavengers who had their backs to him.

Although he had never actually fished, he had experienced it in Mewtwo and knew what it meant to cast a long line to catch a big fish. This group of cleaners, who were organized and under someone's command, were well-equipped and had new cybernetic bodies. They probably had some kind of special base. Maybe they were even the largest cleaner group in Dogtown. He would leave a location for now and have V go over and talk to them when he had time.

Whether they get paid or not is not important; what matters to them is the absence of street cleaners.

Carl and every member of their squad present believed that V wouldn't care about such a small amount of community work.

There's not much difference between picking up trash and cleaning it up.

After the hounds that had been chasing the Cleaner failed to find any more trace of him, they drove back in their vehicle.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

A hound opened the car door and stepped out, casually waving at Karl and his group: "These kidney-harvesting bastards are still everywhere. Do they need treatment?"

"Our driver is seriously injured and needs to be taken to the hospital immediately."

Karl's side was answered by the Ghost Hound, who had just suffered an arm injury: "Another brother was hit in the leg by a stray bullet during the firefight, and he probably needs to be treated as well."

"you"

The arriving hound looked at the person who answered, its gaze lingering on the wound casually wrapped around his arm: "You're in pretty bad shape too."

“I still have to get things moving. This shipment is very important and must be delivered by our people.”

The wounded hound replied, but looked directly at the other person and said, "You know the rules, don't ask any more questions."

"I understand. After all, triggering an alarm is a three-star alarm, so it's definitely not a small matter. I won't ask any more questions, but..."

The ghostly hound that had come to provide support glanced at the heavily damaged armored truck at the front. "Can this truck still be driven?" "Not really."

Jack, who was inspecting the vehicle, came over: "Luckily, although it took a direct hit from an RPG, the armor and protective layer withstood it. Only some parts were damaged, but it can still move and doesn't need to be repaired immediately."

"Can it still be repaired?"

The supporting hound looked at the truck in surprise: "The logistics are really good. If this continues, we can be much more at ease transporting goods on the streets in the future."

Before he could finish speaking, his personal communicator suddenly rang—an order was simultaneously sent to him and all the surrounding hounds:

"If the transport vehicle is damaged, replace it immediately and have the original crew continue the escort. The mission must be completed within one hour. The wounded should be handed over to support personnel and should not inquire about mission details."

The order came from Colonel Hansen, who was clearly closely monitoring the attack and had been informed of the situation immediately.

Upon receiving the colonel's order, there was no more room for joking around. The supporting hounds immediately sprang into action: "Hand over your men to me. You mentioned the driver earlier; wherever he is, I'll bring him back too."

"It's already been moved down."

Oliver said, and together with Carl, they carefully lifted the seriously injured driver out of the car. The driver's seat was a mess—half of the steering wheel had been blown off, with only the wreckage barely hanging on. It was a miracle that the car could still run.

"Tsk tsk, still able to breathe like that, he's really tough."

The support hound glanced at the unconscious but stable driver and immediately noticed that he had been injected with a treatment. It couldn't help but feel a little envious: "You cargo carriers really don't lack good stuff. I remember a small team is only given a few of these."

"We're all on the same side, how could we possibly leave you out?"

Jack was quick to respond, and openly slipped something into the other man's palm: "Thanks to the brothers who came to our aid, otherwise we would have really been done for today. We'll definitely get together later and invite everyone. It's on me."

The supporting hound flicked his finger and immediately realized it was a few data chips storing euros. He accepted them without batting an eye and nodded knowingly, "Alright, then be careful on your way."

After saying goodbye to the support hounds, Oliver got into the driver's seat.

Of all those present, only he possessed the skill and ability to easily maneuver the partially damaged armored truck.

But before he could even start it, he received a message in the communication channel of the Netherhound.

That was still an instruction from Hansen.

However, it was an instruction to change the route.

The destination and route were different from the beginning; it was a completely new location.

"I don't know if Hansen felt the route was exposed and changed the receiving point, or if it was a plan from the beginning to change the route halfway to avoid being discovered."

Muttering to himself, Oliver started the car.

With an even louder roar from the engine and a clattering sound as if the car were about to fall apart, the vehicle began to move.

(End of this chapter)