Outside the south gate.
Twenty yaks were being herded by nine well-equipped gunmen, and they stopped fifty meters from the south gate.
Without mutual trust, this was a safe distance for both parties.
There were quite a few players nearby, some chopping trees, others transporting stones. They all stopped their work and watched from a safe distance, whispering among themselves.
"Do you see that person's arm, is it a prosthetic?"
"That's not a prosthetic, that's a mechanical prosthesis!"
"Damn, is there any difference?"
"The difference is... it's more cyberpunk. And look at the guy second from the left, his entire eye is mechanical! I bet it's not just a mechanical prosthesis, they definitely have implanted plugins or bionic organs!"
"Did you see their guns? Those scorpion-shaped barrels are so cool!"
"Woah, when can I afford such a cool weapon."
"Don't dream too high, the game's officials are just showing it off now. You won't be able to afford it until at least Level 10."
