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Chapter 241 - Chapter 241: "Atlas on the Case! All Uninvolved Civilians, Please Maintain a Safe Distance!"

March 10, 2075, 11:47 AM.

At the southeastern end of the Island District in Westbrook, near a low-rise building.

This building sits at the intersection between the Island District and a place known as Charter Hills, a mixed area with a chaotic blend of people. The streets are filled with numerous modern-looking vehicles, while the sidewalks are crowded with pedestrians, most of whom are the struggling working class of Night City. Their clothing varies widely, with some even showcasing unique personal styles.

Additionally, nearly everyone has a not-so-obvious "port" on their necks, allowing them to quickly access information, make phone calls, or browse the internet directly.

In the alleyways on both sides of the street, homeless people who have lost hope in life and the world can be seen, having given up completely.

Bang! Bang! Sporadic gunfire echoes throughout the area.

However, neither the regular citizens nor the huddled homeless react much to the sound. At most, they glance around briefly to make sure the gunfight isn't happening near them, then return to their own business, as if they were accustomed to violence.

"Help! Someone help me!"

At that moment, a pink-haired woman, dressed provocatively with "metal seams" running along her arms and thighs, came running out of the low-rise building in panic.

"ビッチ! (Bitch!)" 

"死にたいですか?! (Do you want to die?!)"

Following her were two shirtless men, their backs, arms, and torsos covered in glowing tattoos. They were cursing at the woman while chasing after her. One of them pulled out a handgun and fired at the pink-haired woman.

Bang! Thud!

With a sharp gunshot, the woman collapsed to the ground, her limbs twitching uncontrollably. Her pink pupils began to flicker irregularly with flashing lights.

The people sitting at the street stalls, enjoying their cheap lunches, along with the food stall owners who were collecting money from customers, remained indifferent. They continued eating, drinking, and casually watching as the two men dragged the pink-haired woman back into the building. Some even began chatting.

"What a good sex-doll worker, tsk tsk," a middle-aged customer said with a shake of his head, expressing "regret" after finishing his meal.

The stall owner took the empty bowl, rinsed it briefly in a nearby sink, and added, "Judging by her looks, she was probably smuggled from Eastern Europe. Maybe her chip malfunctioned, which would explain her escape."

The middle-aged customer whistled, stood up, and said, "I'm so jealous of the Tiger Claw grunts. They can do whatever they want here, while I have to go back to my crappy job."

"Take care," the stall owner replied, starting to prepare another meal for a different customer.

Looking around, no one found the recent incident unusual, nor did anyone think to call the police. The Tiger Claw gang, whom the stall owner and customer had just mentioned, were the true rulers of the building. In fact, the entire Island District was controlled by various gangs and corporate factions.

As for the NCPD (Night City Police Department), who wore dark blue uniforms, iconic police caps, and sunglasses, they wisely stayed away from this area, only patrolling their designated zones.

After all, the NCPD was originally established by corporations and the Night City Council to protect assets. And no matter how chaotic a city becomes, it still needs its own law enforcement agency. But the NCPD's primary duty has always been to protect corporate executives, social elites, and local wealthy individuals.

Unless a cop still had a conscience or was new to Night City and clung to ideals of "justice" and "fairness," they might respond to cases involving ordinary people.

But those cops often ended up entangled in the power struggles of different factions and organizations, usually meeting a tragic end.

Even so, higher-ups in the NCPD would still conduct token raids on gangs, either to secure their positions or because they'd been bribed.

In Night City, everything revolves around profit, and trust is a commodity you cannot give away freely, or you'll end up betrayed and dead.

Just when people thought today would be another ordinary day, Soap, Ghost, and a dozen ARS elites used optical camouflage to quietly approach the front entrance of the low-rise building.

Under his helmet, Soap wore a serious expression and used his display to lock onto the two Tiger Claw members standing guard at the front, the same ones who had just shot the pink-haired woman.

Through his helmet's internal comms, he ordered, "We'll initiate the assault in 10 seconds. Be ready."

Hearing the word "assault," Ghost holstered his AMWS (modular) pistol, which had a suppressor and subsonic armor-piercing rounds attached. His eyes caught the countdown on his display: "8, 7…"

When the countdown reached zero:

Thump, thump!

In an instant, Soap and Ghost, at the front of the team, sprinted toward the entrance.

Huh?

The two Tiger Claw members, sensing something off, turned around, but—

Crack!

In the next moment, their heads were forcefully twisted and ripped off by a burst of superhuman strength.

Sizzle!

Blood and oil-like fluids gushed from the stumps of their necks, some of it splattering onto Soap and Ghost, forming faint humanoid outlines on their camouflage.

Thud!

The headless bodies collapsed to the ground.

Thump, thump.

Their severed heads rolled away like bowling balls that had gone off the lane.

The sight to onlookers was bizarre—those two gang members' heads appeared to have "spontaneously" fallen off and dropped to the ground.

But anyone living in Night City knew better. This was almost certainly a case of the Tiger Claws provoking a rival gang or angering a powerful corporation, leading to a retaliatory strike on their base.

As for the "invisible men" executing the guards, they were most likely elite gang members outfitted with advanced cyberware or corporate special forces.

Instantly analyzing the situation, the crowd scattered in all directions, terrified that the gang's elites or corporate special forces might turn on them as well, erasing any witnesses to avoid leaving evidence.

Meanwhile, Soap, Ghost, and the others, having easily dealt with the two Tiger Claw guards, ignored the terrified pedestrians and rushed into the building, leaving the bodies behind.

At the same time—

Thump, thump!

More than forty emergency response elites, equipped with olive-green MACRO power armor marked with a prominent red and white "Λ" logo and the letters "AECS," emerged openly into the public's view. They carried BFG plasma rifles and 8mm Gauss smart machine guns.

"Hahaha!"

Leroya's signature hearty laughter echoed throughout the area as her voice boomed through her helmet speakers, announcing:

"Atlas on the case! All uninvolved civilians, please maintain a safe distance!"

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