Players Invade Cyberpunk-Chapter 905 - 292: New Western Vocational and Technical College (2)

"Little brat doesn't know shit."

The quack gave the other party a sidelong glance.

"The so-called pulling good folks into trouble and persuading the wayward to reform are the two big hobbies of men. This kind of emotional value is beyond you."

"Puh - trash!"

The wheelchair and West Fire Grass take a step back, unwilling to associate with this person.

The quack couldn't care less about the two fools: one is so obsessed with V, constantly debating V's affairs with Youzi Chef, while the other can barely walk and goes into a superhero mode with just a few words. How could they understand his joy?

"This game is great in every aspect, except there's no R18MOD. Don't even think about experiencing it; can't even have any dirty thoughts."

Thinking about this, the quack felt even more regret.

"Uh... that's enough, they're coming."

[Boatman] couldn't help but remind them.

But West Fire Grass was relentless.

"If you ask me, what's the point of doing such a thankless task? Every woman in this field is skilled in combat; they might go back and badmouth you in their circles, calling you a letdown, an animal dad, and won't appreciate your efforts at all."

"Different issues must be viewed differently. You can't impose those people's situations onto these folks."

Boatman emphasized.

"It's a special situation domestically, a unique environment and external forces causing women to rapidly self-objectify. You'll find their malice is only directed at the middle and lower class males; all their actions are just to sell themselves for a good price."

"When they truly encounter 'upper-class figures' who match their perceived status, this group immediately distances themselves from their previous 'combat' and will do everything to stay by the other's side, becoming fawning women no different from noble southern women, even if the other is merely a fallen foreigner."

"Including those combatants you see from special industries, their combat might merely be to fill their own moral guilt from their profession, blaming all reasons on external forces."

"But the people in Night City are different. In Night City's capital, their exploitation transcends gender; women don't qualify as carriers for transfer payments. They have far less choice and excess profit than domestic counterparts, more like... never mind."

He left half of the sentence unsaid.

These people are less sex workers and more like talking Fiji Cups.

Do fake bulls and Fiji Cups have the right to battle? They don't even have human rights.

If you're found ruining the guests' mood, you'll face the association's torture. Three-legged frogs are hard to find, but modified sex dolls aren't.

After being lectured by Boatman, West Fire Grass and others felt embarrassed, though they might not necessarily agree with him, they at least stopped arguing.

After waiting a few more minutes, two buses slowly approached on the horizon.

"We're here, disembark."

The driver braked at the destination, opened the door, and threw the passengers off, driving straight towards Night City without looking back, seeking efficiency.

Only the sex dolls left behind felt uneasy, as the world before them differed vastly from the towering Night City.

Without Neon projections, all they saw was a sky full of yellow sand, a distant industrial zone roaring louder than Santo Domingo, and prefab buildings ahead.

Unadorned, as simple as mobile homes, but at least it was sizable.

They quickly found their targets, standing in front Boatman, and players analyzing them.

Though they all agreed to register at the club before, it was mostly out of fear, not truly believing these mercenaries were good people.

Therefore, they didn't believe they were here for any skill training.

Most likely just to send a batch of sex dolls to 'play around,' having heard all sorts of sweet talk in bed, they wouldn't easily trust outsiders.

And those who dared come out in the first round were basically 'smart ones' with their own agendas or poor souls frightened by player tactics.

After all, if they refuse, who knows if these maniacs might break into homes to forcibly seize people.

Therefore, she/they wore varied makeup, stockings, revealing outfits, high-split skirts, yoga clothes... everything goes, as long as they could survive relying on charm.

The players were initially interested at first glance but lost all interest upon seeing male dolls mixed among the female doll crowd.

"That guy... just winked at me... Ugh..."

"Why, why, why is he wearing stockings!"

"Can I kill them all? So eye-burning!"

"Quack! I'll scatter you bunch of gays to the wind, scatter you!"

"If you wanna get kicked and banned, just say so."

"Ugh, scared my little bro shrank too!"

Night City is quite open in terms of sexual orientation; even if you can't accept coming out, typically you wouldn't fall out with gay friends.

But the players couldn't have it, eight out of ten are labor protection sci-fi fans, one is a southern ladies enthusiast, and only the last one might be from Chengdu.

Everyone promptly stepped back, even Adam's Hammer couldn't intimidate them as much.

Thus, gays > Adam's Hammer.

Only Boatman tried his best to control his expression, standing still.

Transforming sex dolls differs from transforming Chaotic Blade Association; violence only backfires.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for trusting us and being willing to cooperate with us here."

Boatman extended his hand; though he wore no expensive suit, just a simple tactical set, his stance was upright, eyes sharp as blades, standing there with an indescribable spirit and aura.