2077: V really knows how awesome he is

He finally panicked and hurriedly shouted to V, "I'm sorry, I drank too much and was just acting crazy. I don't remember what I did at all!"

V shrugged: "It's okay, I'll make you remember!"

After saying that, she leaned forward, raised her right foot, and exerted the power of her 5++ level reinforced tendons again, giving her leg powerful kinetic energy. She stomped hard and heavily on the left biceps of her left arm, which was trying to support itself on the anvil. It wasn't a step, but a precise stomp with crushing force.

"Pfft... Crack!"

The mechanical arm's metal frame and electronic circuitry cracked crisply under the absolute force, Lancelot's left prosthetic arm snapping in two, just as he had done to Aaron Vines. The broken bone pierced the bionic skin, spurting blood and hydraulic fluid that deepened the green of the lawn.

Lancelot's body convulsed violently, and a hoarse, leaky sound came from his throat. He desperately wanted to admit defeat and surrender, but the excruciating pain robbed him of the ability to roar.

V's gaze was icy as she activated her scan. She circled Lancelot, who lay there like a dead dog, and finally chose a good spot. She raised her right foot again, this time targeting Lancelot's right arm. She accurately kicked the crucial point where Lancelot's prosthetic arm connected to his shoulder—the connection between the neural interface and the prosthesis. With a "crack—bang," the metal twisted and deformed, the neural connection cable was violently torn off, and the fragile scapula and collarbone below shattered.

In just a few minutes, Lancelot's limbs were broken. The entire stadium was initially silent, then erupted into a thunderous cheer.

The audience shouted loudly, "This is their V president! This is the famous V!"

Lancelot lay sprawled in the dust like a dismantled, dilapidated machine, his torso and head trembling uncontrollably. The excruciating pain blurred his consciousness, the light in his electronic eyes dimmed and flickered, and only the gurgling sound of blood churning in his throat could be heard.

Perhaps that wasn't a gurgling sound, but rather the sound of surrender. Lancelot desperately wanted to end the match, more than ever.

Unfortunately, V wasn't going to give him that chance.

She kicked Lancelot in the throat with her toe, causing the strongest High Knight to cough up a mouthful of blood, completely shattering his vocal cords and vocal system.

This would certainly be against the rules in a normal match, but the match now is the no-holds-barred fighting that Lanstrom has been longing for, and V is simply letting him get what he asked for.

V looked down at the pile of flesh and metal, now utterly defenseless. There was no joy in victory—there was nothing to be happy about taking down a minor elite; nor was there any sadistic pleasure—there was nothing to be happy about taking down a minor elite.

The current V only has a kind of indifference, like dealing with garbage.

Quite boring.

That's all V's idea.

But the things that need to be done still need to be done.

V has always been a person who sees things through to the end.

She circled around to the side of Lancelot's collapsed body and placed her foot on the central spine of his back—the crucial point connecting all the nerve bundles in his body and supporting his entire torso. Even with subcutaneous armor, it was utterly useless against absolute power.

Without hesitation, with a touch of ruthless finality, the 5++ level reinforced tendon exerted its force once more, precisely transmitting it to the spine below.

"Crack!"

A low, clear snapping sound, like the breaking of a slender, withered branch. Lancelot's entire body arched upwards abruptly, as if electrocuted, then went completely limp, as if all his bones had been removed. All the convulsions and whimpers ceased abruptly at that moment. His eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, the light from his electronic eyes completely extinguished, leaving only empty reflections.

V brushed the grass off his body, raised his right fist high, and the stadium erupted in a thunderous roar.

She was just about to give her victory speech, perhaps taking the opportunity to promote Night City's tourism projects, when suddenly several huge flashes of light appeared in the night sky, streaking across the sky like shooting stars before disappearing into the horizon.

The rare spectacle attracted everyone's attention, and even V asked over the radio, "What's going on? Is it a meteor shower?"

“No, it wasn’t a meteor!” Sasha replied with a hint of panic. “Just now, a meteorite struck the headquarters tower of Orbital Aviation in New Africa!”

Chapter 100 Sin and Punishment: Both are Graceful Decrees

Mortals built towers, hoping to touch the heavens, which angered the gods, who then punished them.

Just as the Tower of Babel in ancient mythology collapsed, the headquarters tower of Orbital Aviation has now also collapsed.

Centuries ago, Europeans angrily opened up the triangular trade; now, Europeans are shooting idiot black men.

Europe truly deserves to be called the light of humanity; they haven't lost any of these traditional crafts.

As V was reflecting, Sasha's voice came through the comms again. V nodded: "Okay, let them in."

Soon, a fully armed squad entered the stadium. This wasn't the Night City team, but the High Knights, and the leader was someone we all knew—Gawain.

He first saluted and greeted V, then walked up to the pile of trash that resembled Lancelot and said coldly, "Lancelot, you are arrested for unlawful assault. This is an arrest warrant. Approved by the Knights of the Round Table Council and signed by the Supreme Leader Arthur, you are stripped of all your positions as a High Knight and your status is reclassified as that of a commoner, the lowest rank, for life. Execute immediately!"

This moment is just like that moment back then.

This wasn't the first time Gawain had done this.

He was initially happy for his friend's reinstatement, but he never expected Lancelot to be so forgetful and provoke V again.

The only thing Gawain could do was apply to be a messenger and personally escort Lancelot back to the moon so he could take care of this troublesome friend.

"President V, thank you for your cooperation. On behalf of the High Knight, I apologize for Lancelot's rudeness."

"Alright, I'll give you face." V shrugged. "But the competition always has to have a result."

Gawain suddenly realized, took out an external vocal cord, pulled out the data cable, and plugged it into the neural slot behind Lancelot's ear.

The voice of the strongest High Knight immediately rang out: "Impossible! I am a war hero of the moon, the pride of all High Knights. Lord Arthur personally received me. How could the Round Table Council demote me to a commoner!"

Gawain didn't explain, he just sighed: "Admit defeat, Lancelot. End the match, and I'll take you back to the moon."

Lancelot said with a face full of resentment, "Gawain, you're my friend, how can you treat me like this?"

It is precisely because I am your friend that I offer you kind advice!

Seeing that Lancelot couldn't tell right from wrong, Gawain's face turned cold: "Admit defeat, or die. Choose one!"

Lancelot shuddered, ultimately cowering under the threat of death.

"I surrender."

Thus, V won.

The audience cheered, their shouts deafening, while Lancelot's fans didn't hesitate to hurl the most vicious curses, even though he had been their idol not long ago.

But that's how it is with idol worship: the faster they rise to fame, the more violently they collapse.

This is the price of becoming a god; if you cannot meet the expectations of believers, your idols will be smashed and your temples burned down.

"V, you wait! I will definitely kill you, I will definitely kill you!"

Lancelot let out a hysterical scream, and Gawain quickly unplugged the external vocal cord connection. Unrestricted combat was indeed prevalent on the moon, and there were quite a few who acted like V. To maintain order and resolve disputes, external vocal cords had long been standard equipment for High Knights.

Gawain apologized again on Lancelot's behalf, fearing that V might kill his friend in a fit of rage.

But V really didn't care. On the one hand, she didn't think Lancelot could threaten her, and on the other hand, given Lancelot's current state, living was more painful than dying.

She waved for Gawain and the others to leave, then the referee announced V's victory. She picked up the microphone, thanked the audience for their support, and then flew off to Arasaka Tower to have some fun... no, to handle some international business.

The senior executives of Arasaka 2077 were already waiting in the conference room. After reading the situation report compiled by Carter's Counterintelligence Department and Jenkins' Public Relations Department, V realized that the European Space Agency was really ruthless this time.

First, there were not one but seven meteorites; second, it wasn't just the headquarters tower of the Orbital Aerospace that was hit, but also various facilities and buildings in other parts of New Africa.

V looked at the photos of the scene. The once towering tower had been turned into a deep crater. Bubbling magma was still churning at the impact center. The crater was about 10-15 kilometers in size. The thermal radiation burned all combustibles within 50 kilometers. The shock wave extended to 100 kilometers away. The ground, whether man-made buildings or trees, was like harvested wheat, layer upon layer, neatly pressed down.

The impact also stirred up a cloud of dust, making the already dim night pitch black. According to meteorologists' preliminary estimates, this dust will likely remain in the sky for more than five years, causing temperatures in Africa to drop by 2-3°C and severely damaging the already fragile Earth's ecosystem. Once this dust enters the troposphere, dense cloud cover will become the dominant weather feature globally, inevitably leading to another drop in air quality and a global temperature decrease of approximately 0.5-1°C.

There were not just one impact point, but a total of seven. Satellite photos show seven black dots on the African continent, resembling cigarette burns on the wrists of rebellious teenagers.

To date, the death toll has reached a staggering 200 million, and this is only a preliminary count; the number will certainly continue to rise over time.

No wonder the European Space Agency has been silent; they've been looking for rocks.

Ten thousand years ago, humans threw stones at each other to fight, and ten thousand years later, it's still the same. How romantic!

V remained unmoved by the tragic state of New Africa, even though she was the one who orchestrated it.

V admits her cold-bloodedness; she's not a saint, not that benevolent. Leaving aside the mess of New Africa rigging the ESA and using humanity's future as a political bargaining chip, Orbital Aeronautics' attempt to control Night City via CN-07—if they dare to extend their claws, V dares to chop them down.

To put it simply, V was provoked by someone else, which is why he retaliated. His moral standards surpass those of 99% of the big shots of his time.

Look at the European Space Agency (ESA). This rebellious son of a nation like New Africa dares to betray his father, so the ESA will really fight him to the death. What's this talk of civilians? It's just some numbers on paper; nobody cares except the civilians themselves.

Meteorites don't just fall from the sky on their own; there's no need to investigate, everyone knows what the European Space Agency is doing.

However, the European Space Agency was magnanimous and did not deny it. It simply stated that "the system malfunction was caused by a stray AI" and that was the end of it, without even saying "sorry".

Everyone knows about the rogue AI uprising on the moon. Because New Africa used this as propaganda, promoting Lancelot as a "combat hero," it's quite plausible that the European Space Agency's lunar systems were tampered with by the rogue AI. After all, how evil is the rogue AI? Determined to destroy humanity, it's perfectly reasonable for it to drop a few small meteorites on New Africa.

Protests against "migrating AI" erupted around the world, and governments and corporations around the world welcomed the movement and even fueled it.

Do you hate roaming AI? Of course you should.

The reason you can't afford medical care and housing is because of the roving AI, not because of the exploitation and oppression by us rulers.

For the gods, they were overjoyed to be able to resolve their internal conflicts; fairness and justice were utter nonsense.

As for the truth—the truth is that those black devils in the new Africa used false information about the Centaur Alpha system to fool their own father, and the father beat his son in a fit of anger. This was entirely their own doing and they don't deserve any sympathy.

Indeed, even though the European Space Agency (ESA) has done such a heinous thing, the international community has unanimously sided with ESA.

why?

Besides the fact that this is a self-inflicted disaster by New Africa, it is also because the European Space Agency controls the mass accelerator on the moon.

Africa has just been hit by seven craters, and the Americas and Asia aren't stupid. At this time, they would oppose the European Space Agency unless they also want to be hit by seven craters.

Humans are born unequal, and the world has always been a dog-eat-dog world. No matter how fancy the words used to describe it, they cannot change this fact.

Truth is always within the range of cannons, and Satan holds the mass accelerator in his hands; therefore, Satan is God!

V sighed at the reality and shamelessness of the Earth's gods. Being young and thin-skinned, she couldn't be so shameless. She simply said to Sasha, "I remember that Nakamura Kayo has already completed the upgrade of the new nanorobots, saying that they can handle air pollution. Go contact New Africa and ask them if they want them. Considering that they just suffered a disaster, don't raise the price too much, just ten times the cost will be fine."

Sasha nodded and wrote the order down in her work log. She wasn't too surprised, nor were the others. Business is all about buying low and selling high, taking advantage of others' misfortunes. It's reasonable to raise prices when there's high demand. V can be merciful to Night City, but what does New Africa have to do with her? She runs a company, not some kind of charity.

After suffering such a severe blow, everyone thought that the new African continent would give in, but unexpectedly, the president of the new African continent immediately delivered a televised address, calling on all African people to unite, resist tyranny, and protect their homeland.

The international community was stunned, completely baffled as to where the new Africa got its audacity.

But when everyone saw that the new African president had fled to China overnight on a special plane after delivering his speech, they were immediately relieved.

That makes sense now; I knew this old black guy wasn't that bold.

Johnny went on to criticize: "When they were enjoying their good life, they didn't take the common people with them. Now that there's going to be a war, they're trying to fool the people into protecting their homes. And there are actually some idiots who fall for this stupid trick. They don't even realize that every piece of land under their feet belongs to them. They have to pay off a mortgage for a lifetime even if they buy a 20-square-meter secondhand house. To hell with their homes!"

The rock kid's words may be rough and his reasoning may be crude, but they are absolutely true.

V has no intention of commenting on the current social situation; she is more concerned with China's position.

So she contacted Xu Ling: "What does Kang Tao mean?"

"It's nothing," Xu Ling said nonchalantly. "It's just that old black man gave me some protection money."

"That's someone the European Space Agency wants to get. Isn't Kanto afraid that doing this will cause a few meteorites to fall from the sky?"

"Not afraid."

"why?"

"Because we gave half of the protection fee to the European Space Agency."

"Hold!"

V hung up the phone; she should have expected this.

Forget it, these big shots are playing a game of power, and I'm just a nobody. I'd better just live a peaceful life.

And so, V returned to his days of shuttling between Arasaka Tower and the boxing club.

Aaron Waynes did not get his robotic arm replaced. Joanne Koch performed craniotomy to remove the blood clot in his brain, and his recovery was quite good. However, the series of events still greatly damaged his competitive condition. If he still had a chance to win a championship in the past, he would probably have a hard time even winning a medal now.

But Aaron Wiens did not give up. He just trained even harder, even giving up his evening entertainment. He treated himself like a robot, seizing every minute to improve himself.

V tried to persuade him, everyone tried to persuade him, but it was no use.

After a training session, everyone was drinking together when Joanne Koch said with a hint of regret, "If Aaron could have been given a little more time, he could have returned to his previous form."

"how long it takes?"

"About three months."

“That’s it,” Kurt Hansen sighed. “The Olympics are less than a month away.”

Jack thought for a moment, then looked at V and said, "If President V intervenes, could the Olympics be postponed?"

"Of course." V knew how awesome he was, and he also knew how much face he had.

"Really? That's great!"

V shrugged: "I could not only postpone the Olympics, but I could even have Aaron awarded a gold medal directly. Do you think that makes sense?"

Jack opened his mouth, then fell silent.

V patted his good friend on the shoulder: "Some things, sometimes you just have to let them go. Night City needs a real Olympic champion. If I get involved, things will just go wrong."

Jack understood. It was like his family's Wild Wolf Bar; if business was good, it had to be because other people came to patronize it. If he went to patronize it himself, it would be self-deception. Xia Ji was just making a fuss.