Players Invade Cyberpunk-Chapter 684 - 222: Never Underestimate How Low They’ll Go

The work on the assembly line is a torturous affair.

You are endlessly repeating the same thing, never knowing when it will stop, with only one item after another on the conveyor belt needing processing.

Alex, expressionless and mindless, stuffs piece after piece of meat into the meat grinder.

In the beginning, he fantasized about saving enough money to buy an artificial lung and getting a better-paying job, or imagined becoming Johnny Silverhand, blowing up Huangban Tower and winning the beauty.

One week

Two weeks

Three weeks

His mind gradually grew numb, even imagination became a luxury.

Despite only having a bit of cybernetics installed, he felt like he had become a machine on the side of the conveyor belt, endlessly repeating the same action, never knowing when it would end.

After all, machines don't need thoughts.

People often send their children to work on assembly lines, claiming it's to give them a taste of life, to understand that their parents' money is not easily earned.

But in reality, this has no meaning, because the child's eyes hold the future; they know they won't be doing this for life. Once the time comes, they will return to their comfortable past.

True despair is an endless repetition of work where there's nowhere to escape.

With a monthly salary of 800, after deducting food and lodging, not even a hundred is left. Falling ill means enduring with painkillers.

Day after day, after day.

His hands seemed capable of nothing but grabbing and stuffing meat, even dreaming was about working on the side of the assembly line.

The only companionship was the growing black mold on the conveyor's edge, which the other workers would scrape off and mix into the meat before sending out. But Alex felt he had a pet that would never leave.

His vision turned black and white, and all he heard was the noise of the conveyor belt. He instinctively picked up a chunk of meat, ready to stuff it into the meat grinder, not noticing that this piece was significantly larger than usual.

When the cloned meat met the sharp blades of the grinder, the entire chunk was swiftly minced.

Along with it, due to the machine's force causing imbalance, went Alex's hand.

"Ah!!!"

His hands, long soaked in oil and acid, were shredded instantly upon contact with the blades. The spraying blood and white bone was swiftly mixed with the artificial meat, ground into mince, but more horrifying was Alex himself, pulled forward by muscle pull into the machine, the grinding net like a giant mouth, having consumed his spirit, now seeking his flesh.

"Pull him out quickly!"

The surrounding people showed no panic over their colleague's injury, as if accustomed to it, yet human instinct drove them to pull Alex away until his entire arm was fed into the grinder and disappeared.

At the other end of the conveyor, the addition of fresh blood made the minced meat look more vibrant.

Brother Dao, diligently working on line seven, also noticed the incident, putting down his work to check it out, only for the overseer to stop him midway, pushing him back, saying:

"Get back to work, nothing to fuss about."

What was already a severe safety accident could not even press the pause button of the assembly line here.

After driving the workers back to their stations, the overseer walked to the sweat-soaked Alex, having the guards hold him up. He felt Alex looked familiar but couldn't recall his name; glancing at his name tag, he complained:

"Oh dear, number three, look at you being so careless on the job, did you forget last month's incident? Dare to be distracted again?"

He nagged, yet there was not the slightest intention of sending the person to the hospital but leisurely feigned a difficult look:

"This batch of goods is ruined with your blood, and you've lost a hand, how do I explain this to the factory manager?"

Alex, pale from blood loss, already knew his fate upon hearing the words; after all, this wasn't the first time.

"Fine, for old colleagues' sake, I'll help cover this up, let's pretend nothing happened. As for your hand, the company just got a batch of work cybernetics, sign this and I'll pull some strings to get you fitted, not only will your salary rise from 800 to 1000, but you'll only have to repay 250 Orokin monthly, isn't that worth it?"

The overseer pulled out a prepared contract, placing it in front of the nearly unconscious Alex, filled with terms Alex could no longer read.

But if he didn't sign, the overseer would indeed leave him to die here, and even if the NCPD came, it would just be ruled a death due to personal error.

Delayed medical care?

It's widely known that in Night City, the medical system aside from the Trauma Team is always in delay.

Brother Dao couldn't see what was written on the contract from afar, but after seeing Alex shakily pressing a handprint, he had an idea.

He 'accidentally' put his hand into the grinder.

Since he had been beaten to death by Heavy Hammer last time, he hadn't been on the front line much, and even though he only replaced some organs with cybernetics, his hands were still flesh.

In front of the wide-eyed number eight coworker's gaze, he pulled his hand from the grinder, theatrically shouting: