"Made it myself from the leftover scraps." Brother Ni said excitedly, "It’s sharpened."
He used to make tanto blades and cosplay weapons, but none were sharp; mostly, they were iron-wrapped wood.
The three put the daggers at their waists, each giving Brother Ni a thumbs up. Lin Miao glanced at them in the rearview mirror but said nothing.
The daggers forged from re-smelted scrap steel, it’s obviously a lie to say they’re good, though stabbing someone wouldn’t be an issue. It’s just that he doesn’t think these players have the guts to do it.
The Big Guy also touched his trouser pocket, but after a moment’s thought, he decided against it.
When Lin Miao parked the car by the roadside, the Wildman got off and picked up an empty paper lunch box from by his feet. Looking at the black mold growing inside, he took a sniff and almost vomited from the stench.
"This trash...smells just like the real deal, ugh..."
But unlike the other three who held their noses, Brother Ni seemed a bit excited.
"This might be the place we’ll have to come to often in the future."
Hearing this, the other three looked at him like he was an idiot.
Potato looked at the dirty and shabby environment in front and complained, "You always come here? Are you out of your mind?"
He, too, had come from ordinary folks, knowing that people who stay in such places for long would have their skin corrode and ulcerate, with mouths sore, and the stomach, liver...anyway, none of the internal organs could stay healthy. Heavy metal poisoning or organ failure would be minor; some day you might wake up to find maggots growing on your rotting skin.
"You don’t understand a thing, isn’t this just a resource spot? What’s a bit of grime and stink?" Brother Ni looked at the mountains of trash scattered everywhere, not disgusted in the slightest, exclaiming in wonder, "This just shows how ambitious the production team is. That Night City must be a huge city map; otherwise, how could it produce so much garbage?"
Lin Miao looked at Brother Ni in surprise. This guy made some sense; indeed, he couldn’t compete with big companies for mining resources, nor did he have the money to buy resources from them...
No one seemed to want this pile of garbage...though there wasn’t the energy or recycling equipment was just one, but if it could start operating in the future, it seemed like a pretty decent path.
As for the environment here being so harsh that even homeless people wouldn’t want to come, that’s not something he would consider. Just have the players work, what’s a slightly bad environment? They could even wade through acid pools; players are meant to take risks, right?
Keeping this thought in mind, Lin Miao calmed the increasingly excited players finding a new map and resource spot.
"Alright, quiet down, you can lower the sense of smell in the panel, and the same goes for pain. Our target is in there, don’t let them notice us, and then act according to plan, got it?"
If he didn’t speak, these guys might try climbing to the top of the trash mountain like monkeys.
The four nodded repeatedly. Lin Miao kept reiterating while driving, and since he couldn’t skip the dialogue, he just listened. His ears almost got calluses.
Faced with this situation, Lin Miao could only sigh; players would never obediently follow your orders.
But it doesn’t matter; cannon fodder anyway.
With the stench of burning rotten garbage in the air, Russell felt extremely annoyed. He got up and went back to the tent, rummaging through the box in the corner before finally finding two unopened bottles of alcohol.
Throwing one bottle to the guy sitting on the container on the other side, the two immediately unscrewed the caps and started gulping down the liquid.
Another person standing on the slope with binoculars observing the convoy, obviously one of the boss’s people, turned around seeing the two teammates drinking in broad daylight, and scolded somewhat dissatisfied.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! It’s not even dark yet."
"To hell with waiting for darkness, Eisis, can’t stand staying in this damn place without drinking."
Russell belched after putting down the bottle, his cheeks turning red instantly. Without the alcohol anesthetizing his senses, this stinking garbage dump wasn’t a place for humans to stay.
"Been here for three days now, haven’t seen a single hover truck come by, and you’re forbidding booze. You might as well let me die."
It’s not only trucks that transport garbage; occasionally, hover garbage trucks with four vector jet engines, the Parasol produced by Zeta Technology, come by. But those are used only by wealthy areas or big companies, and the garbage they dump might have valuable stuff in them, like corpses of corporate dogs who lost the competition or uneaten pastries. Of course, the most valuable is the hover truck itself.
Though not as costly as proper passenger hover vehicles, dismantling the four engines could net a few tens of thousands, making a big windfall, though the chance of seeing one is low and the chance of shooting one down even lower.
Jensen, rocking his head to the music in the car, said, "Complaining won’t help, just three days into this week, and it’s still far from shift change."
Finishing his words, he took out a small spray can, placed it at his nose, carefully pressed it for a second before releasing it, afraid to use up too much at once.
Blue mist surged from the nozzle, quickly inhaled by Jensen. A few seconds later, his mouth emitted strange moans, his eyes rolled back showing large portions of the whites, his whole body trembled, and his hands repeatedly clawed at the seat cover, his expression as ecstatic as could be.