Players Invade Cyberpunk-Chapter 633 - 203: Ideal, a Word That Inspires Fear (3)
[Brother Dao: You guys are definitely darker, even New America is far inferior]
[Truth Department: New America? They will eventually fall at the feet of our Super Earth!]
[Youzi Chef: See this? It's the aftermath of P Corp, I still suggest joining our Beautiful Girl Idol Group, starting the Out of Control Robot Servant and Colorful Galaxy era, it's better to just be a lazy bum otaku with an exotic girl]
[Masked Rider: Otakus are disgusting]
Even though the players were chattering non-stop on the official website, seeming full of energy, in reality, the high-intensity battlefield had pushed many of them to their limits.
Even if they're not physically tired, their spirits are nearly breaking. Before this, they were just office workers and students, and throwing these people onto a real battlefield, surviving over two hours would be a blessing, yet now they've been fighting hand-to-hand in a trench for two days and nights, which is undeniably shocking.
When they return to their positions, a honking horn or the sound of a door opening would trigger a reflexive psychological reaction, making them think the Chaotic Blade Association was attacking again, prompting them to quickly look for a gun to defend themselves.
Only after seeing the bustling city scenes, the lively crowds on the streets, and the boys and girls around them, did they realize they were in reality, not in the game.
This stable living environment... is quite nice.
It's precisely this kind of peaceful time that makes people who ordinarily imagine war in diverse ways truly appreciate the value of peace.
Meanwhile, Valerie felt deeply moved too.
The players who logged out gathered in scattered groups, leaning against the trench as they fell deeply asleep with their guns, not even bothering to take off their exoskeletons, caked in mud and gunpowder, logging out regardless of the conditions, looking ragged and shabby.
Such extraordinary combat resolve, such exaggerated fighting spirit.
She had never seen such qualities in the company's employees.
Maybe the brainwashed loyal soldiers of Huang Ban would die fighting for the interests of Huang Ban, but they would never be so composed, so confident, nor possess such overwhelming momentum.
Valerie was full of confusion, why exactly are these people fighting?
Is it for money?
If money could buy soldiers and employees like these, the European Community would have conquered the world by now.
"What are you thinking, Miss Valerie?"
Knowing the end of the war was near, the busy Lin Miao rented a hovercar, sparing a little time to journey from Night City to the Salinas River Valley.
Valerie candidly said, "I was just thinking, what means and benefits did you use to nurture such powerful soldiers."
"What means, powerful, haha."
Lin Miao laughed and asked,
"Do you think they are strong?"
"Aren't they strong?"
Valerie retorted,
"Even soldiers from New America during the same war period are far less competent than your people. If their numbers increased to hundreds of thousands, I can't even imagine what force in this world could stop you."
"Before becoming soldiers, they were just a bunch of office workers. Their average quality isn't even as good as a random street gang member."
"If you don't want to tell me, there's no need to use such a crude lie."
"Then what do you think can make people risk everything, Valerie?"
Lin Miao took down two bottles of homemade soda from the car, tossed one to her, and pointed at the sleeping players, asking.
"Money? Power? A wealthy life? Or a beautiful, virtuous wife?"
Without waiting for Valerie to answer, Lin Miao said directly,
"If having these could make a great warrior, then the most capable people in the world would be the directors of the European Community and your Huang Ban Sanlang, but in reality, if they hit the streets, even Jack could probably choke them to death with one hand."
A precision expensive prosthetic doesn't equate to great combat ability; even if one has a high-intensity combat prosthetic, it depends on who's using it.
A pampered elder holding an AR15 is still likely to get shot by a street thug from Night City.
"Then what is it?"
"It's something you don't have, something you lost long ago."
Lin Miao took a big drink of soda. Even in winter, he enjoyed iced drinks.
"It's your lost self, or rather—an ideal."
"The ability to make people risk their lives, fear neither death, authority, nor social ethics, is the only driving force that propels human history forward, positive desire, or that is to say, an ideal."
An ideal...
Such a foreign word.
The word is so foreign that Valerie almost couldn't remember how to spell it.
This inevitably prompted Valerie to question, what was her ideal?
Jack wanted to become a legend in Night City, what about her?
Climb upwards?
Climb to the top of Huang Ban, becoming a member of the board, where a single word could decide the lives of millions?
No...
That wasn't Valerie's ideal...
Looking back,
she was just working at this company.
Because her parents worked for Huang Ban, so did she, and she completed the tasks assigned from above, exhausting every bit of her mental and physical capacity in an endless cycle of tasks, relying on medication to sustain consciousness, never having considered one question.
I...
Who am I?
What is my ideal?
Why do I work at Huang Ban?
Why did I expend everything, depleting every bit of strength, resorting to prosthetics, in order to work at Huang Ban?
Is it for money?
For a dignified and comfortable life?
Valerie didn't know how to answer this question, for the first time she experienced an emotion of fear.
Even when sentenced to death by Albertson, she wasn't afraid, but faced with the word "ideal," Valerie was scared.
She seemed to want to avoid this question, but looking at the sleeping players around, she realized she might never escape it in this lifetime.
She could pretend not to see
But "ideal" is right there.
