Cyberpunk: Starting in 2071

Chapter 112 Whose problem?

"time to eat!"

V's voice came from outside the door. Mercer, without even looking up, said, "Leave me a portion in the fridge. Come back when you're done."

V outside didn't reply, but after a while, she slipped into the lab wearing protective gear.

Mercer turned to look at her, shook his head helplessly, and said, "Will you still be able to eat if you smell like disinfectant all over you later?"

"Don't worry about it," V muttered, walking over. But he couldn't understand what V was doing, so he just watched for a while before whispering, "I heard it from Panan."

"What?" Mercer was taken aback, then laughed. "Ah, the poisoning?"

"Hmm, what do you think?" V didn't criticize him, but calmly asked for his opinion: "Are you just saying it casually, or do you really think so?"

Mercer always had some whimsical ideas; sometimes it was just a sudden flash of inspiration that he would casually say.

But sometimes it's just a casual remark at first, and then after thinking about it, I think it's really good, so I just go for it.

Mercer glanced down at the readings on the instrument and said casually, "I have thought about it seriously."

"Are you serious? This could lead to a major infectious disease spreading prematurely in Night City!" V frowned.

Mercer, however, calmly said, "If the outbreak occurs early, we can detonate the bomb before biotechnology is ready. Those who cannot produce a vaccine in the short term will inevitably face condemnation from everyone."

We can try to drive biotechnology out of Night City by collaborating with various parties, including media and companies such as Comtôme and the Trauma Team, to share virus data and vaccine development progress.
At the same time, we can make a lot of money and take the opportunity to clean up the die-hard loyalists in Dogtown.

As for the innocent residents of Dogtown, we can provide free vaccines.”

He said a few words, then suddenly stopped what he was doing, turned to look at V, and smiled: "What's wrong? Your brows are all furrowed."

"Well, how should I put it, I don't quite understand what you're thinking, but..." V hesitated before continuing.

Mercer burst into laughter: "Alright, I'm not kidding you anymore. Even if there are many benefits to this, I won't do it."

V was taken aback, then angrily punched him on the shoulder: "Then why did you say so much? I thought you had made up your mind!"

"It's more accurate to say that because I overthought it, I felt it was best not to do it."

Mercer shrugged and sighed softly, saying, "My reason tells me that using this way of thinking to solve problems is the fastest and easiest way."

From my perspective, if everything goes smoothly, this matter will indeed not have much impact on the general public—but once something like this happens, it will happen again.

Today I can poison Dogtown for the sake of so-called efficiency, and tomorrow I might use the same reason to start a global biological war.
Ultimately, if I choose this approach today under the guise of "for a better tomorrow," how am I any different from those large corporations that claim to be "for the future of humanity" while recklessly sacrificing ordinary people?

Mercer shook his head helplessly and comforted him, "Anyway, don't worry. Panan and I were just talking casually. As for the vaccine, I'll work a few more nights and maybe we'll get lucky and get it done in a few days?"

The development of vaccines or drugs inherently involves an element of luck.

You should focus your attention on guarding against Agent Arasaka. Although Morning Star will keep an eye on things for us, the ctOS system may not be able to monitor such high-level agents in every aspect, so you still need to be extra careful.

Oh, and don't forget to stock up on survival supplies beforehand, whether it's food or water.

Now it was Mercer's turn to nag V, telling her to take care of the rest of the family while she was researching the vaccine.

V suddenly felt a little awkward—since Mercer had said that, it seemed like she didn't quite trust him.
She hesitated for a moment, then said, "Okay, I understand. Let's make this clear first, it's not that I don't trust you, I'm just a little worried that you might be under a lot of pressure."

Mercer smirked: "Oh~ I know~ You definitely didn't come because you were worried I'd turn into a bastard like biotechnology."

"Okay, I am a little worried. After all, you do sometimes look a bit like some kind of mad scientist."

V snorted and turned around, saying, "I won't put the stuff in the fridge. Just hurry up and come out after you finish this little bit of work. Aren't you supposed to be smart? How come someone as smart as you can't even manage your work time well?"
We're having barbecue today. If you don't come, it might be all gone in a few days. We don't have time to buy you smuggled beef from Texas right now.

Mercer smiled and said, "Got it. Remember to disinfect yourself properly as instructed by Morning Star before going out."

The laboratory returned to calm.

Mercer shook his head, not taking the conversation to heart. He turned to look at the data readings on the instrument, but he still couldn't help but sigh with some frustration.

You stupid biotechnology companies, we just taught you a lesson, and now you're trying to do something disgusting in Night City again?

It's said that a leopard can't change its spots, and biotechnology seems to have developed a path dependency on this get-rich-quick scheme of poisoning first and then treating the patient.

So when the financial statements show a lack of funds, this is the trick they use to increase revenue, right?

Mercer spat inwardly, but felt a little heavy-hearted.

He didn't think biotechnology would miss this opportunity to make a fortune, which also meant that Night City was likely to face another epidemic outbreak.

Mercer doesn't want to clean up the mess left by biotechnology for free, but how can he make biotechnology truly pay the price?
Just like before, doing the work of a mercenary? Like capturing and killing the person in charge of the biotechnology project?
This is completely meaningless. These so-called directors and supervisors are nothing more than expendable materials in a biotechnology company that can be replaced at any time and replenished indefinitely.

As long as it's profitable, and as long as no one can make them pay a real price for their malice, biotechnology will repeat this process again and again.

Mercer didn’t want to think about things that were too far in the future. He just wanted to get biotechnology out of Night City!

However, he could never do this by himself alone.

Frustrated, Mercer waited for the results of another experiment. After recording the results, he disinfected himself, changed his clothes, and went to the living room for dinner.

By this time, everyone had finished eating, but V left his portion covered in the pot. He took a portion for himself, sat down at the coffee table, and mechanically ate while watching TV.

Then, a man suddenly appeared on the news footage on television—Jefferson Peralez.

Looking at Jefferson, who was currently engaged in a lengthy discussion, Mercer gradually sat up straight.

"What I'm trying to say is that, as things stand, most of Night City's tax revenue is being wasted. Why do I say that? Well, let's take a quick look at Night City's financial statements from last year. What do you see?"

On television, Jefferson calmly stated his political philosophy: "I only see staggering public servant salaries and public spending, but I want to ask you, do you really see that money being used in your lives?"
The streets are still in terrible condition. Take, for example, the roads that the Sixth Street gang and the Valentino gang wrecked in the Heywood area. How long has it been since those incidents happened? To this day, no one is even willing to repave those rubbish roads with cement!
Every time I drive there, I have to slow down to the minimum speed, for fear of scratching the undercarriage of my car!

What about the clean water and food subsidy programs that the mayor promised? Why is a gallon of clean water still 99 euros? Where did the clean water go?

All I saw was the company's low taxes and the huge subsidies that were indeed implemented, but any funding or projects related to public infrastructure construction or so-called subsidies were still in the so-called "in-progress" stage.

Last year, we subsidized a total of 72 million euros to as many as 17 companies, but of these 17 companies, only four are still operating normally. The rest have either gone bankrupt or been acquired.

And where are the jobs they're talking about? Our unemployment rate not only didn't decrease from the first quarter to the third quarter, it actually rose by two percentage points!

Jefferson sighed, "And we need more than just jobs; we need healthcare and poverty relief! Right now, a full 40% of Night City's population is living below the poverty line!"

Can you imagine? In Night City, filled with large corporations, 40% of the population goes hungry, while companies that go bankrupt after only six months easily pocket tens of millions of euros in taxes.

Mercer watched as he and the host continued their exchange, debating issues such as healthcare, employment, and the notorious crime problem in Night City that everyone knew about but couldn't solve.

He pondered for a moment, and suddenly had some ideas.

He might not be able to do anything on his own—but if he can partner with an excellent city councilor and work together based on shared interests and aspirations, the outcome could be quite different.

Whether it's Night City's serious crime problems, poverty, water and food issues, or junk companies like biotechnology, all require the combined efforts of Night City's municipal government and other companies to completely eradicate them.

Jefferson Peralres, a man from humble beginnings who, after graduating from university with the help of a scholarship from the Night Corporation, resolutely returned to Night City to pursue a political career.

In terms of both background and political ideology, he is actually very similar to Mercer in some ways.

Jefferson, who came from humble beginnings, was well aware of the hardships faced by ordinary people and was quite resistant to large corporations. If we could talk to him, we might actually be able to reach a mutually beneficial agreement on biotechnology.

Jefferson could gain fame, but Mercer wanted to drive out biotech companies and ideally, make them infamous and unprofitable in the face of any future infectious diseases.

Mercer could make money for them by selling medicine, and the money could be used to continue investing in Jefferson and accumulate wealth. At the same time, he could also win over companies with conflicting interests in biotechnology, such as Zeta Technology, Su Petrochemical, and the Trauma Group.

Mercer, finding the idea increasingly plausible, immediately had Morning Star arrange a meeting with Jefferson.

But then the morning star suddenly told him some good news.

[Morning Star: You don't actually need to actively seek out opportunities to meet. Do you remember Colonel Hansen saying he would award you a 'Medal of Honor' at the Sapphire Blue Hotel?]

[Mercer: I remember, you meant Jefferson would be coming that night too?]

[Morning Star: Not only that, but also Night City's mayor Lucius Lane, his deputy Wilton Holt, and other Night City celebrities.]

Hansen also invited journalists such as Gillian Jordan from News 54 to give Dogtown's first medal ceremony some official publicity.
I suspect his goal isn't just to completely bind you to the Ghost Hound, but also to use your fame to negotiate deals with others using your equipment.

Recently, hasn't he been urging you several times to produce a mass-producible tank armor as soon as possible, and even asking you to let Ms. V wear the armor to their firing range for a live-fire test?
I suspect he just wants to use your various new equipment developments to attract investment and demonstrate his military strength.

Mercer snorted coldly: "Fine, let's see who gets the better deal."

What's the point of bringing in investment? Isn't it still necessary to rely on it to achieve production and further development? And once the production capacity is stable and new products are developed, Mercer will probably be ready to discard it after it has served its purpose.

Whether Hansen wanted to kill him or not was unknown, but Mercer was determined not to let him live for too long.

After dealing with the first wave of assassinations by Arasaka's agents, while Lai Xuan goes back to find a way to steal the chip, Mercer will have to take advantage of this time difference to deal with Hansen and become the boss of Dogtown.

After that, he will try to find a balance between New America, Cubans, and Arasaka, while also establishing a company to spread his influence to Pacific State.

Then it will be time to fight tooth and nail—as long as we can go all out and kill Arasaka Saburo and gain the support of Raigen, then Mercer will have a chance to gain a foothold in Night City.

They can also leverage Dogtown's advantages to quickly advance their tech tree and recruit combat personnel.

With territory, money, and people, Mercer finally had the right to stand on the stage where he could influence the situation in Night City and fully display his talents.

Of course, there will be more risks and troubles, but when it comes to changing a city, there is no easy or pleasant way.
The television screen cut to a commercial break, and Mercer, as if waking from a dream, hurriedly finished his meal, got up to wash the dishes, put his things away, and then turned back to his research.

[Mercer: Morning Star, I'm giving you a mission: investigate and gather as much evidence as possible of the crimes committed using biotechnology.]

[Morning Star: Understood, but considering the completeness of the evidence chain, I would like to request some funds from you to hire some reporters to collect and film evidence.]

[Mercer: Here you go. I don't need the money much lately, so you can decide where it goes and make me some extra money.]

[Morning Star: Understood.]

Mercer tossed the money to Qimingxing and then ignored it. He no longer knew how much money was in his bank account; in any case, the amount of money in the accounts managed by Qimingxing changed every day.

Basically, they are constantly increasing in value—Qimingxing likes to play short-term stock trading, buying and selling are calculated in seconds, and he controls thousands of accounts at the same time.

Moreover, almost every single one of them can achieve a profit of over 10%, and occasionally they will even control the market to make a big profit. The speed at which they make money is so fast that Mercer no longer needs to worry about daily expenses.

The advantage of being kept by someone is that Mercer no longer has to worry about suddenly spending all his money like before, and having to rely on everyone's savings to support him.

With Qimingxing around, even everyone's own savings are entrusted to her for management and growth. If it weren't for the fact that everyone spends money so quickly, they might be able to achieve financial freedom in just a few years by relying on Qimingxing.

While Mercer was fully engrossed in his research, the development work within the Ghosthound continued uninterrupted.

Without leaving the base, relying solely on online guidance, the Mercer, within the Ghosthound's research and development workshop, at an astonishing speed, directed designers to handcraft a replica of a tank-model personal armor with the classic yellow and black Ghosthound color scheme within half a month.

This suit of armor is an astonishing 1.95 meters tall, but the actual height requirement for the user is around 1.85 meters.

It was not equipped with weapon modules, but only with the same compression thruster, thick armor, and a personal armor with mechanical supercharging and operating system. Within the first hour of its assembly, Hansen decided to try it out.

As cautious as Hansen was, he wouldn't be foolish enough to go up and try it himself first. Instead, he sent his trusted confidant, Bennett, to give it a shot.

Bennett donned the armor without hesitation, his face beaming with excitement—he had been itching to try it ever since he first saw Rebecca's sturdy little suit.

He usually wears a nano-combat suit, and even saved the cost of an internal nano-suit. Now, after being dressed with the help of the designer, he couldn't wait to move his hands and feet.

Meanwhile, on the screen at the very center of the design workshop, Mercer participated in this 'experiment' via video call.

"Damn, this thing feels really good to wear! It's heavy and powerful." Bennett said excitedly, and the buzzing sound and sense of power from the supercharger when he casually swung his fists and feet made him extremely satisfied.

Hansen, however, simply asked calmly, "How's the sensitivity?"

Bennett assessed the situation, took a few steps in place, and made a few tactical maneuvers: "Uh, there's a bit of a delay. I estimate that if the Berserk system is activated, or if we're going all out, the delay will be even more noticeable. If we activate the thrusters, it'll probably be even dumber."

Hansen turned to look at the screen in the design workshop, while Mercer, without looking up, said, "Put on the helmet. Without the helmet, you're basically just wearing an exoskeleton."

Their system doesn't include AI; its operating system relies heavily on its own brain neural signals.

The built-in microcomputer, originally used for transcoding consciousness signals for AI calculations, was also turned by Mercer into a processor similar to the neural conversion system of the Arasaka exoskeleton.

Mercer knew very well what the real core technology was. The reason he was so generous in sharing the exoskeleton's power-enhancing and compression thrusters with the designers of the Ghost Hound was because the device itself didn't have much technological content.

At most, the supercharger's transmission system is better than others on the market, but the compression layout of the compressor and the engine technology are basically a condensed version of Arasaka's.

These are indeed very impressive technological breakthroughs, but they are by no means the key to Mercer's powerful armor, nor are they technological barriers that others cannot overcome.

Once it's commercially available, people can take it apart and examine it themselves. With technical experts leading a team to study and figure it out for a month or two, they can basically replicate it to a high degree of accuracy.

Bennett didn't understand any of this; he simply followed orders. After putting on the helmet, a cold authorization request came through the brain-computer interface.

Without hesitation, he followed the instructions step by step to connect his brain-computer interface to the helmet. After activating the operation assistance system, he suddenly felt as if the heavy armor on his body had suddenly become a part of his own body.

Bennett tried raising his left hand, and then was surprised to find that he could not feel the mech's presence at all!

He couldn't even tell whether he was raising his own left hand, the mecha's left hand, or both.
But without a doubt, the feeling of ultra-low latency prompted Bennett to immediately give an excited reply: "The latency is gone! Wow! I feel like I'm completely one with the mech now!"

Mercer, in a businesslike manner, preemptively deflected blame and absolved himself of responsibility, saying, "This kind of equipment puts a lot of strain on the nervous system; in other words, it requires a high level of competence from the user."

My advice is not to wear it for too long at a time, preferably no more than five minutes. This will help maintain your mental health and effectively avoid straining your nerves.

Upon hearing this, Bennett suddenly felt a little intimidated—but then he changed his mind and said confidently, "I've participated in training to drive magic lizards and chimera tanks before. Those things are also brain-computer interfaces, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Hearing this, Hansen felt somewhat relieved, but still looked at Mercer suspiciously: "But your men seem to always be wearing armor?"

“As long as the brain-computer interface connection isn’t activated, this suit of armor is just an ordinary exoskeleton.” Mercer’s reply somewhat dispelled Hansen’s doubts. Mercer then added, “Besides, my men are all genuine geniuses.”

Bennett couldn't help but purse his lips at his confident words, but then he excitedly said, "I'll apply to try out at the shooting range."

The main attraction of this thing is its compression propulsion system and the compatible smart weapons. Let's also take a look at the Berserk system and its compatibility.

Hansen nodded and approved his application, while Mercer casually reminded him, "Remember not to use it for too long. The first time you use it, you should be done in five minutes."

“No problem.” After saying that, Bennett immediately got up and headed to the shooting range in the stadium to test his flight speed and turning speed. In the spacious underground shooting range, he tested his flight speed and turning speed, and even accidentally fell a few times.

But each time, he would immediately get up without feeling any pain and excitedly continue the test.

Seeing the strength, speed, and agility Bennett displayed, Hansen couldn't help but raise an eyebrow—he was a seasoned veteran, and with just one glance, he immediately understood just how much this armor enhanced a soldier's abilities.

With such agile mobility alone, coupled with its super-thick armor comparable to that of a tank, this thing is practically a small assault tank in urban warfare!
He ordered Bennett to experiment with a variety of weapons, including shotguns, submachine guns, machine guns, smart weapons, and even the kind of melee weapon Rebecca used.

They also tested Bennett's strength with the Berserk system, and in the end, Hansen had to admit that this thing was indeed quite powerful.

Even he, if he activated Sianweistan, wouldn't be absolutely certain he could defeat this iron lump.

Because even if this thing senses danger, it can still take off and land on the ground. Your conventional weapons can't penetrate its armor. With the Berserk system, its speed is ridiculously fast!
While it can't match Svensstein at full speed, it's not without a fighting chance.

While the user of the Sianwaystein is 20%-30% slower, its armor is more than an order of magnitude thicker, and it also has an absolute difference in strength. If a user of the Sianwaystein is even slightly careless and gets hit, it is basically a death sentence.
Especially when facing ordinary soldiers, Hansen felt that if Bennett wore this armor to deal with ordinary Ghost Hound troops, even with defensive positions such as Minotaur drones, various automatic turrets, and vehicle-mounted machine guns, he would be in trouble.

Bennett could go in and take down twenty or thirty people with his bare hands—you can't break through their defenses, you're not durable, and you're not as fast as them. Your only chance of winning might be if someone can keep shooting accurately at the relatively weak head armor and joints.
But ordinary hounds don't have this combat skill; it's something only elite soldiers can do.

How many elite soldiers would it take to overwhelm such an armored warrior? Not to mention, this thing can be equipped with all sorts of heavy firepower!
If they first unleash a barrage of long-range micro-missiles mounted on their backs, followed by sustained suppression with shoulder cannons and hand-mounted heavy machine guns, they can easily take down two small fry with a single punch when they get close enough.
Hansen shook his head and said, "You can stop now, Bennett."

"No, I want to try again! Give me some live targets, drones or something!" Bennett was still excitedly flying around the firing range, while holding a machine gun and bombarding the targets until they were blasted to pieces. He didn't stop until the targets were destroyed.

"Bennett!" Hansen frowned, and Bennett, somewhat reluctantly, stopped what he was doing, walked over to Hansen, and tossed the machine gun, its barrel still smoking and hot, to the Ghost Hound.

"Understood, boss." He looked somewhat regretful.

Hansen, however, said directly, "Turn off your brain-computer interface."

"What? I feel... there's no need for that. I don't have any burden right now. I just think that kid is exaggerating. The first time I drove the Demon Lizard, it took me a full two hours!"
"My training partner threw up all over the car, but I can still run five kilometers after I get off!" Bennett said somewhat unwillingly, but as Hansen's gaze turned cold, he obediently took off his helmet.

However, after taking off his helmet, Bennett suddenly seemed to feel unwell all over, and his head was throbbing. He rubbed his head, looking puzzled: "Damn, is this really a strong aftereffect?"

Not only did his head hurt, but more importantly, he could feel that the armor and his body were acting independently again, a feeling that went from being one to becoming two separate entities.

It made him feel as if he had suddenly lost an arm or a leg, causing him great discomfort.

My whole body feels a little itchy, like something's missing.

"Take off the armor and get a full check-up from the doctor." Hansen's face darkened, and he decisively ordered Bennett to find a doctor.

Bennett wasn't stupid. When he was wearing the helmet, he only felt excited, thrilled, and exhilarated. But the unusual situation that occurred after he took off the helmet made him realize the danger of this armor.

More than the simple headache, what bothered him was this feeling, which was similar to a 'withdrawal reaction'.

He had only heard similar stories from some pilots. It was said that some pilots who used brain-computer interfaces for too long would sometimes suddenly have a mental breakdown and jump off tall buildings.

Because they believe they can fly—mistakenly taking the ability of airplanes to fly as their innate ability.

Bennett keenly realized that he felt something similar; as he walked, he kept thinking about activating the propulsion system on his back.
This was only a short test flight lasting a few minutes!

“Something’s not right, boss,” Bennett commented.

Hansen nodded coldly, then returned to the research and development room without saying a word. Looking at the dark screen, he said coldly, "Director Mercer, I need an explanation."

"What explanation?" Mercer's voice came as the screen lit up, and he reappeared on the screen.

"Bennett has a lot of experience in operating vehicles and has a lot of experience in driving vehicles directly with his brain, but he still suffered from brain overload and suspected psychological problems because of your armor."

I need an explanation—don't try to fob me off with excuses like "you're special." I know exactly what the normal range of neural workload is!

Hansen questioned him with a stern face.

Mercer, however, merely wore a cold expression and sneered, "How about this, I'll go to your base now, drive your suit of armor, and operate it in front of you for twenty minutes."

If everything goes smoothly for me, please approve another five million for equipment, and don't restrict its use or type, how about that?

Hansen looked at him coldly: "I know you played a trick on me."

"Wow~ you actually found out~" Mercer replied in an exaggerated tone, while in the design workshop, everyone was too scared to make a sound.

Looking at Hansen's dark face through the camera, Mercer said bluntly, "I gave you the stuff, and you've seen the results. It's normal for your nerves to be under a lot of strain, since you were an experimental subject."

If you can't use it, look for the reasons within yourselves. Have you been lazy all these years? Have you not exercised properly? Have you not used your brain enough?
If you don't want this armor, then give it to me. I have others waiting in line to use it.

Mercer said irritably, "I'll repeat myself one last time, this is the first version, an experimental product. My people can use it because my people are awesome. What level is Bennett at?"

Hansen's face grew increasingly grim, and he said in an icy tone, "Very well, since that's the case, let your man try it out. That guy named Jack is basically the same size as this suit of armor, so let him give it a try."
I want to see if the problem lies with the people or the armor.

Mercer showed his face for the first time in the video, and appeared equally angry, saying, "Fine, what if my people are okay?"

"Didn't you make your conditions? Five million euros worth of equipment, you can use it for whatever you want, just put it in the research workshop." Although Hansen was angry, he had not lost his temper.

Mercer sneered, "In that case, I've recently become quite interested in chemistry and medicine. I need a separate, high-end sterile laboratory, complete with a full set of research and production equipment. What do you say?"

“Okay.” After saying that, Hansen went straight to the point: “Now, bring your men over here immediately.”

"Wait." Mercer hung up the video call immediately.

Hansen, however, remained standing there with a gloomy face, not saying a word for a long time.

Standing beside him, a seemingly refined ghost hound whispered a reminder: "We can't afford to spend money recklessly anymore. Last quarter's profits have been used up, and we still have some outstanding payments to make."

Hansen simply said expressionlessly, "I know, a lab isn't something you can build in a day, is it?"

The ghost dog finally breathed a sigh of relief. To be honest, as a newcomer who had just joined the ghost dog and was in charge of finances, the man named Gago was under a lot of pressure.

Hansen, however, remained calm, looked at the designers beside him, and said directly, "Get the testing procedures ready for me. Keep a close eye on things later. I need to confirm whether it's a design problem or a human problem. Do you understand?"

The designers exchanged glances, and finally one of them said, "Actually, the computers inside have it built-in."

"Then switch to a new one that you wrote yourself right now! And add a hacking alert, understand?" Hansen finally lost his temper and raised his voice: "What a bunch of idiots, can't you even figure out why I'm angry?"

The group of designers quickly nodded and said, "Yes, Colonel!"

The group hurriedly began searching for other inspection procedures. Writing them now was definitely too late, but fortunately, everyone had some technical knowledge on their computers. They could find an old system, modify it, and put it on the armor to make it work.

One of the designers hesitated and whispered a few words of defense for Mercer: "Colonel, the design by Director Mercer is actually quite good. It's really hard to say what nerve load is."

"I don't need you to tell me whether it's reasonable or not!" Hansen gave him a cold stare, causing the designer to quickly lower his head.

Hansen didn't understand technology, but he understood people—to be honest, from a personal perspective, he admired Mercer's talent and his leadership in bringing his team to the forefront, including the team's cohesion.

It's not something just anyone can do to turn a group of street thugs into a cohesive group, and for that group to follow him and fearlessly risk their lives time and time again.

He could tell that Mercer treated his people very well, and it was precisely because of this that he could make that judgment.

If this mech would exhibit a severe abnormal reaction like Bennett's after only a few minutes of use, Mercer would never allow it to be used by his own people.

That was his assessment of Mercer—he wasn't the type to risk his own people's lives or conduct experiments.

Therefore, Hansen speculated that Mercer definitely had a secret to reduce neural load.

Human differences?

Ha, Hansen can acknowledge V's level of skill, but what about that other little girl named Rebecca? Hansen can see her naivety and stupidity from 800 meters away. Does he really think a girl like that can outlast Bennett?

Don't be ridiculous. Bennett has received countless professional training sessions, while Rebecca probably never knew what it felt like to directly control machinery with a brain-computer interface until she came into contact with a mech!
Hansen didn't believe that Mercer had really found a group of geniuses; he was almost certain that there was something fishy going on.

With a grim face, he gave a wink to one of the hounds, who immediately nodded and, without a word, jogged off to secretly prepare a deadly weapon for Mercer and the Fireseed Squad.

A set of ultra-high-specification electronic warfare equipment—theoretically, it can instantly block all of the opponent's network signals and then conduct electronic countermeasures.

Furthermore, this is a special electronic warfare device that can launch ultra-high-intensity EMP attacks at any time.

In fact, ever since he figured out Mercer's level, he would secretly have someone prepare to activate the program at any time almost every time he met Mercer.

Even the most powerful cybernetic superhumans and hackers cannot withstand this level of equipment attack.

If even electronic warfare equipment like this can't deal with them, then we can just fire an EMP—forcefully paralyzing and destroying all electronic equipment, and even crippling their prosthetic bodies. Mercer, without a network access pod, is naturally unable to do anything.

To be honest, Hansen had some murderous intent. He hated being treated like a fool, and he thought he had shown Mercer enough sincerity, but Mercer was like an ungrateful wretch who was still playing dirty tricks on him.

After waiting for a long time with a sullen face, Mercer came over with Jack, V in armor, and Rebecca.

Upon meeting, Mercer didn't waste any words and went straight to the point: "Where's the stuff?"

Hansen looked at the designers with a grim expression, while the designers hurriedly said, "Wait a moment, we need to re-upload the detection system."

"Heh," Mercer chuckled, then simply crossed his arms in front of him, meeting Hansen's gaze without the slightest fear.

His confident demeanor made Hansen, who was initially absolutely certain that he was up to no good, begin to doubt his own judgment.

After the designers had been working on it for twenty minutes, Mercer ordered Jack to put on the armor without hesitation.

After the designers carefully checked it several more times, Jack finally put on the helmet with a disgruntled look on his face: "So, tell me, how do I do it?"

"Go to the firing range, and I will provide you with drone targets and various other targets. We also have a special cabin for CBQ training. After you have completed ten minutes of testing, take off your helmet, and I will have someone assess your condition. That's it."

After Hansen finished speaking, Jack swaggered away, put on his helmet, and appeared to have been directly connected to the brain-computer interface.

Hansen didn't follow them. Instead, he stayed in the room, turned on the monitor, and closely monitored the readings on the testing equipment.

It would take Jack some time to get to the firing range, and Hansen took the opportunity to turn to Mercer and say meaningfully, "Looks like you're very confident."

"It seems you lack confidence in me." Mercer retorted with the same words. He had come out wearing a helmet, but now he had lifted his mask, and his expression looked rather unpleasant.

Hansen sneered, "Since you're already here, how about we leave the armor of the two girls next to you behind for a data check?"

“No.” Mercer turned to stare at him, her gaze icy. “That’s mine.”

"Funding." Before Hansen could finish speaking, Mercer calmly said, "I have all the financial records regarding the Ghost Hound's expenses. Would you like to see them? Where exactly did the money you gave me go, and is it related to these two suits of armor?"

Colonel Hansen, I think I've already given you enough face. You wanted me to stay in Dogtown, and I haven't left since.

You can take the armor from me for free, and I'll share the technology with you too.

If you want to move medals for me, I'll accept.

I don't know why you still doubt me like this. To be honest, if we really can't get along in the end, I can consider looking for a company willing to hire a new project director.

Mercer said bluntly, "I believe they would be happy to build me a research base in a beautiful place, and give me a share of the profits from each project—I might even have a maid squad to serve me if I wanted."

I believe I have done enough, but Colonel Hansen clearly still has a lot of complaints about me. In that case, let's proceed officially.

From now on, I will not participate in any further development of this armor. You can give me a share of the profits or not, but if you still want to get technology from me, then you have to pay.

And don't expect to get a design project worth tens of millions of euros from me for just a few million euros.

He did look very angry, even disregarding the face they had previously saved for each other.

Hansen squinted, but still managed to maintain his composure: "Look at what you're saying—haven't I treated you well enough? I was even willing to give you the top floor of the Sapphire Garden all to yourself, but you yourselves refused."

Which of your research projects didn't I approve? I only asked you to work on something related to the stadium, and you're already unwilling? In all this time, what results have you produced in the stadium design workshop?

"Oh, the hacking of those military technology weapon systems, the design of new standard equipment, including the improvements to the previous Minotaur AI system."

Mercer chuckled and placed a hand on the shoulder of a trembling researcher beside him: "I remember you used to work at Arasaka?"

"Hey!" The researcher was so startled that he blurted out his native dialect.

"In Arasaka, how long does it typically take to produce results for the projects I mentioned above that I personally oversee, and how many people and how much money are required?"

Mercer's words left the researcher speechless for a moment. He cautiously observed Hansen's expression, while Hansen simply said, "Tell the truth."

"Well, you're making great progress. To put it simply, all of the projects mentioned above, based on the current situation in Arasaka, will require at least six months, and each project team will have at least forty people."

As for funding, it varies from several million to tens of millions depending on the project. At least your improvements to the intelligent system on the Minotaur robot are definitely enough to qualify for a project approval of tens of millions of euros.

The researcher spoke honestly, even casting a somewhat admiring glance at Mercer. Even though Mercer's face, revealed after the helmet visor was removed, looked frighteningly young, he was genuinely impressed by Mercer's skill.

Hansen had to soften his tone: "But every time you achieved something, didn't I give you a separate bonus?"

"I bet if I embezzled 20 million euros in Arasaka for food, drink, and entertainment, and then used another 10 million euros to get the project done, my boss would have to fawn over me. What do you think?" Mercer's words left Hansen speechless.

Mercer, however, persisted, staring at Hansen and issuing a deafening question.

"So, Colonel Hansen, I'd like to ask, why did things escalate to this point today?"

Mercer sighed, then spread his hands: "Whose fault do you think it is?"

(End of this chapter)