I Became a Cyberpunk Tycoon

Refining (6)

"I'm bored...."

Ravina stretched out her limbs as she sprawled.

"Of course you're bored when you're not doing anything. Do you want to take over the surveillance?"

"Would I even know what to look for?"

"Obviously not."

Numerous screens opened on the exterior of the car, showing the target. It was the image of an utterly ordinary, happy family.

This was a place difficult to enter even with citizenship. Entering the central district itself required complicated identity verification, and mercenaries didn't have much business in such places to begin with.

"I thought we'd be enjoying some sweet honey, but this job is more grueling than I expected...."

It wasn't her first time on a protection detail. However, at least those missions had clear beginnings and endings.

They were typically asked to protect someone until a specific event ended or to defend against enemy attacks expected at a certain time.

Mercenaries are expensive. Unless it's a difficult mission or one that necessarily takes a lot of time, using Doris Mercenary Group-level personnel for an aimless protection detail was a waste of resources.

"I still think we stand out too much. If we get caught, we'll have no excuse."

That wasn't all. They hadn't even established the cooperation with the protection target that was essential for escort duty.

If they could at least stick close, they might have found some peace of mind, but their employer had instructed that the very fact that protection was attached must be concealed.

It was practically stalking. The mercenary group, suddenly playing guardian angels, had to find comfort in the cozy seats of the new vehicle purchased with the money Hansan had given them.

"I envy them."

Ravina blurted out. The family they were protecting was indescribably harmonious and beautiful.

The Doris Mercenary Group was experienced enough. It wasn't as if they'd never seen people splurging money.

Brokers who exploited mercenaries and siphoned off huge amounts of money often flaunted their wealth with expensive watches and wine.

But they could instinctively tell. What they had seen until now wasn't real "wealth."

There are rich people outside the central district too. Not all business people live in the central district.

Those who run gambling houses or brothels, or climb to high positions in gangs and receive tributes, could earn much more than the average central district office worker.

But that was fake wealth. It was fake happiness bought at a high price by someone who had lived in poverty their whole life and suddenly earned money.

A waiter carries food. His movements show no doubt, no vigilance.

Quite different from the waiters down below, who are always on edge, chasing customers who eat without paying and ready to stop gang members who burst in with guns.

He handles "real food" as if it's nothing. As if slaughtering live animals for meat dishes and harvesting fresh crops for salad is common sense.

The central district wasn't a space you could enter just because you had money. The people there were all individuals with guaranteed status.

The Doris Mercenary Group did receive fake IDs provided by Hansan, but without a major corporation like Hansan, it would have been difficult to carry out such an operation.

Happiness bought with money and peace bought with money were spread out in this space.

Staring at it for hours was definitely not an easy task. Because even if the Doris Mercenary Group got rich someday, this was a sight they could never possess in their lifetime.

"Wow, look at that robot toy. Is it dancing on the desk?"

"That one might be more expensive than this car. I heard it has many strange functions...."

As Doris absentmindedly watched their meal, she could feel a strange sense of discomfort.

Gazes were pouring toward the senator's family. They might have avoided the attention of other people, but they couldn't avoid the eyes of surveillance cameras.

"Hey, wait a minute—."

Just as Doris opened her mouth, all screens went black.

"It's started."

The restaurant's CCTV had already been hacked by Luna. The signal being completely cut meant one of two things.

Either Luna's hacking had been detected, or someone else had infiltrated the control room and shut down all CCTVs.

The attack had begun.

"Everyone put your hands up! Don't move! Anyone who calls for help dies first!"

A masked man fired a shot into the air. The central district civilians, who had never experienced such an incident, trembled with fear.

'I need to handle this as quickly as possible.'

Although he had prevented them from calling for help, he knew well that the central district's security service was not to be taken lightly.

Many people's heart rates would have shot up abnormally. Within three minutes, private security companies patrolling the area would send someone, and as soon as they noticed something unusual, they would call in a special forces team.

Once enhanced soldiers in helicopters burst in, it would be over. No matter how many connections he had, it wouldn't matter.

After his body turned to ashes from one laser bullet, no one would be able to protect him.

"You people over there! All of you move!"

He wanted to rush to the target, knock him out, and kidnap him immediately, but he couldn't.

The fact that the crime targeted Senator Ronald couldn't be revealed. It needed to look like he was caught up in a crime aimed merely at ransom.

He didn't want to use such extreme methods. But his son wasn't old enough to go to school and hadn't even entered kindergarten.

Since he couldn't separate father and son, he had no choice but to take the unnatural approach of causing a daytime terror and kidnapping only the child.

"If you want to live, transfer money to the number I'm going to give you. All of you, right now!"

If only he hadn't gotten into gambling debt, he wouldn't have fallen into this situation.

But he didn't want to leave the central district, and if one dangerous job could allow him to stay here, he had no choice but to do it.

The demand for money transfer was also a fake to hide their true purpose. It was a secret account related to the political opponent of the person who hired him.

It didn't matter how much these people sent. It was money that would be recovered anyway.

There was no time to waste. He strode toward Ronald.

"You...."

"Hey, you look rich. How much money would you pay to save your son?"

And his life ended. A massive bullet shattered his head.

He did have implants. But implants that protect the head area against bullets coming from behind were uncommon.

As a criminal, he couldn't wear military-grade protection, so there were limits to the defensive capabilities he could prepare.

That was the end. Ronald trembled with blood splattered all over his body.

"What, what's going on? What happened?"

"Ambush! Move!"

Having lost their leader, the gang ran wild.

"We need to stick together! First, we need to identify the enemy."

"It must be a sniper! That window is broken!"

"We need to complete the mission first! Otherwise, we're all dead!"

"A sniper? You're saying after receiving a report, they rushed here, took position, and shot our boss? Does that make sense?"

It was impossible. It would take more time for a sniper to arrive, take position, identify who the leader was, and ensure the safety of the hostages.

This is the central district. The people visiting the restaurant were those who couldn't be allowed to die or get injured without severe consequences. There was no way the police on the scene could decisively give a firing order.

"It's a trap! Everyone run! They've been targeting us from the beginning!"

Fear spread among them. From this moment, they were no longer kidnappers but prey.

"I, I can't die like this!"

One of the criminals fled toward the emergency stairs.

"W-wait a minute! We need to assess the situation."

"What assessment!"

Not long after he went down the stairs, the sound of a massive bullet echoed up the stairwell.

There was no reason for a fleeing person to shoot at civilians. If he had escaped safely, the sound of footsteps running down the stairs should have continued to echo.

But below was silence. He didn't make it out alive.

"If we all go together, we can make it!"

"Bullshit, you think we can win in firepower against a security company's private soldiers? If even one of us wants to live, we must scatter."

A bullet pierced the heart of the criminal who was speaking.

"S-sniper! They're shooting at us!"

The urgent situation took away their reason. If their leader's head had been blown apart by a sniper, they should have remembered that this place wasn't safe.

"Get down! We need to get out of here alive!"

Whether she had entered during the commotion or not, an unfamiliar woman was holding a gun.

"Who are you?"

Hope filled the criminal's heart. If the security company hadn't arrived yet, there might still be a chance to get out alive.

He died with that hope in his heart. Doris's pistol pierced his neck.

"You there, don't move! Bullets are flying!"

Ravina, wearing a huge hat to cover her ears, lightly took care of the remaining criminals.

"That's 7 so far. Situation over. Let's get out of here."

Their mission wasn't to be quietly captured by the security company's soldiers and explain the situation. Exchanging glances, the two mercenaries immediately left the restaurant.

The people left behind looked at each other with dumbfounded faces. The bodies of the criminals, still warm, proved that what they had experienced wasn't a collective hallucination.

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