Players Invade Cyberpunk

Chapter 1147: Chapter 374: Couldn’t Save Him, But I Did Entertain You All

Havana International Airport

West Fire Grass had thought about coming back to Cuba one day, just never imagined it would be in this way.

[I damn well should be on the front lines, bravely charging through gunfire and bullets as the hero, so how did I end up as a side character behind enemy lines?]

After learning about the special mission, West Fire Grass tried to decline several times.

I said I’m not being modest, but my level doesn’t meet the mission requirements; how can a semi-newbie like me handle this task?

You should really choose someone more capable.

But they said,

"No way, we’ve already decided. You’re the one to go deep behind enemy lines. Out of everyone, only you have the ability to complete this mission alone, so it has to be you."

At the time, I recited two lines of poetry by Lin Zexu and blew up the player chat channel; everyone was bewildered.

When Youzi Chef heard about this, he was shocked and, along with a group of newbies, wanted to ask me how I got this mission.

I thought to myself,

You guys are just too naive.

How could I possibly tell you about this?

You’ve got to quietly make a fortune.

So I told them,

"A person’s destiny, of course, depends on their own efforts, but one must also consider the course of history. As for myself, I’m very ashamed; I’ve only done a small bit of work..."

Through the airplane window, West Fire Grass watched the frequent landings and take-offs at the airport with excitement.

This big airport had several runways now repurposed as a military airfield, constantly unloading military supplies and soldiers, including many sophisticated electronic devices that West Fire Grass couldn’t even name, only having seen glimpses of them on some corporate websites.

At a glance, you could tell this was valuable intel. Any typical spy would be tempted to snap photos with their cybernetic eye to commemorate it. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

But not West Fire Grass.

He wasn’t here for that.

[Cuba, it’s finally time for glory!]

When the plane came to a halt, he cheerfully stepped out of the cabin amidst the soft-spoken words of the flight attendants, feeling as if spring was in the air.

Just as he stepped out of the cabin door,

two large hands reached over from behind, grabbed his collar and neck, and slammed him hard onto the ground. West Fire Grass hadn’t even processed what was happening when his face was already kissing the ground.

A large group of armed soldiers rushed out noisily ahead, setting up a watch.

He, the Horizon Corporation operative sent to Cuba on an undercover mission,

was caught.

A bag was pulled over his head, his vision went black, and a sharp pain struck the back of his head, logging him off instantly.

So fast that West Fire Grass didn’t even have time to change his expression from a beaming face.

When West Fire Grass woke up, he was already held in a detention room for interrogation.

And his face didn’t know how many buckets of ice water had been splashed over it; he was soaked all over, with several whip marks on his body.

In front were three agents wearing sunglasses, huddled together with tense expressions.

What’s going on?

West Fire Grass didn’t dare directly open his eyes to wake up. Instead, he played dead with eyes shut, eavesdropping on these guys’ conversation.

"What should we do? Could he be dead?"

"It’s definitely because you were too heavy-handed, messed up his brain; probably damaged his brain nerves, and he’s become a vegetable."

"Nonsense, I’ve clubbed people nearly a thousand times if not more; I know the feeling better than you do."

"Now that he’s dead, how do we explain this to the side in Europe?"

"What does the doctor say?"

"They say all his vital signs are normal and he’s healthy."

"Then why isn’t he waking up? We’ve tried all conceivable methods, and unless this guy is dead, he should be moving; even the toughest guys I’ve seen can’t resist standing still and letting us do as we please."

"How should I know?"

"Otherwise, let’s say he resisted arrest fiercely and died of a gunshot?"

The interrogated hadn’t panicked, but the interrogators already started to. freewebnoveℓ.com

You have to know that even if you sever your pain nerves becoming insensitive to pain, you’d still physically react to stimuli.

For instance, when a bright light suddenly shines into your pupils, you’d have to blink even if you were a god, right?

If hit with a few rounds of high-voltage electrocution, you’d surely scream, wouldn’t you?

But after players log off, unless they log back in themselves, even if you dismembered their bodies, they wouldn’t react at all. They’d sleep like a group of babies, without significant brainwave activity.

To outsiders, this looks almost like brain death.

So that’s it... They’re afraid I died...

Slightly understanding the situation, West Fire Grass deliberately let out a painful groan,

"Hungry..."

Then hauntingly opened his eyes.

Several Cuban agents heard this sound like a heavenly melody, nearly bursting into tears of joy and hugging West Fire Grass’s legs, saying,

’Oh my god, we’ve been waiting so anxiously, finally, you’re awake!’

If anything went wrong with West Fire Grass, the people over at Night City wouldn’t kill them.

The Europeans finally got dirt on an internal employee and turned him, and then you went and killed him; they’d most likely be strung up on rockets and sent to the skies by their superiors.

One of them hurried to West Fire Grass’s side, almost offering sympathy and comfort; if not for a colleague pulling him back, he would’ve lost his composure right there.

An agent hurriedly opened the door and grabbed a soldier standing guard to say,

"Quick, call the doctor."

Meanwhile, the other two wanted to drag West Fire Grass over to the interrogation table, but worried about being too rough and scaring West Fire Grass back into unconsciousness, they carefully carried him with a chair to ’invite him to the table.’

"Tell us, what are you doing in Cuba?"

Using the harshest expression to speak in the gentlest tone, Agent A’s mood was twisted beyond measure, afraid that a loud voice might scare the guy to death.