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Over a dozen gun barrels were aimed directly at Lin Mo and Hiroshi. One wrong move, and those cheap firearms would blaze, leaving their bodies riddled with bullets.
It seemed like the outcome was set. They were trapped with no escape.
Human reaction times might be quick, but bullets fly far faster. In the brief moment it takes to pull a trigger, a bullet would already have flown hundreds of meters. Once that trigger is pulled, life and death are decided in an instant. No matter how fast or skilled, there's no outrunning a bullet.
Only those equipped with a Sandevistan implant could possibly manipulate time enough to dodge in those small windows left by a speeding bullet. For everyone else, escape was a hopeless dream.
Hiroshi's face showed signs of growing concern. In his mind, a decision was forming: if the enemy opened fire, he would rush forward and use his body to shield Lin Mo, buying him even the slightest chance to escape.
Better to take a bullet for him than die cowering behind cover, with no action at all.
Unlike Hiroshi, who had already resigned himself to what seemed inevitable, Lin Mo appeared unusually calm. It was as if he wasn't staring down the barrels of over a dozen guns, but instead facing nothing more than a ceremonial display, with no real danger.
"Hiroshi, don't worry. I'll buy you enough time to escape." Hiroshi's voice was full of resolve, his expression one of steely determination. He was ready to sacrifice himself if necessary.
Lin Mo, still fiddling with his katana, took out a piece of cloth from his bag and began calmly wiping the blade, as if it were routine maintenance. Hiroshi glanced over, confused.
"Lin, you're not planning on...?" Hiroshi asked, concern creeping into his voice.
Lin Mo looked up with a slight smile, shaking his head. "No, I'm wiping this blade to prepare it... for taking heads."
Before Hiroshi could fully process that, Lin Mo added, his voice still calm, "And stop talking like you're already dead. You still owe me. I've been thinking of starting a merc team soon, and I need someone like you onboard. You in?"
Hiroshi blinked, momentarily stunned. Was Lin Mo serious? Here, with death almost certain, the kid was talking about starting a crew?
But looking at Lin Mo's unwavering gaze, Hiroshi realized he wasn't joking. Even in this moment, he was planning for the future.
It took only a second for Hiroshi to grin, a genuine smile breaking through his grim resolve. "It would be an honor, Lin-kun. If we make it through tonight, count me in."
"Good," Lin Mo replied, giving a satisfied nod.
The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. The gang members were closing in, their weapons trained on the two of them. Every step echoed the impending threat of violence.
Just as Hiroshi tensed up, ready to spring into action and sacrifice himself for Lin Mo, the younger man gently grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Relax," Lin Mo said with a calm smile. "They're already here."
Before Hiroshi could ask what Lin Mo meant, the unmistakable roar of heavy engines filled the air. The powerful sound of armored vehicles racing through the streets reverberated, and even without cybernetic-enhanced hearing, the vibration could be felt in the ground.
Hiroshi froze, his enhanced hearing amplifying every sound—the rumble of tires, the click of heavy weapons being readied, the metallic thuds of machinery in motion. It was the sound of military-grade power closing in.
The gang members, too, stopped in their tracks, eyes wide with confusion. The approaching sounds were hard to ignore.
The rumbling soon turned into blinding lights as the armored vehicles screeched to a halt, surrounding the gang. The sheer scale of firepower on display was staggering.
"This is SSI, Night City's premier private security force," a loudspeaker blared from atop one of the armored vehicles. "You are in direct violation of our client's safety. Drop your weapons and surrender immediately, or lethal force will be authorized."
The gang leader, pale-faced, turned to see several more vehicles pulling up. These weren't just any security teams—these were SSI contractors, the elite of corporate Night City's privatized security forces. Each vehicle was equipped with mounted heavy machine guns, while armed enforcers took positions around them, locking in a complete surround.
Several rounds were fired from the mounted guns—not aimed at the gang, but at their vehicles. Tires exploded, headlights shattered, leaving the area illuminated solely by the SSI's powerful lights.
The gang members stood frozen. They knew there was no way out now.
One after another, the gang began to drop their weapons. The power dynamic had shifted in an instant.
In the distance, watching the whole spectacle from the comfort of a parked Rayfield Aerondight, was a team of mercs, their expressions reflecting their awe at the efficiency of the rescue operation.
Victory was sealed.