The Death Knell

At that moment, Johnny felt the terrifying aura of Deathstroke, as if he was staring into the bottomless abyss, and the human instinct in his soul wanted him to escape immediately.

However, he was still a legend in Night City. He quickly adjusted his emotions, opened the wine given to him by Deathstroke, took a sip, and spoke to Ciri who was looking around with nothing to do.

"Who is your uncle? Or let me ask you another question, how many people has he killed before?"

Before becoming Silverhand, he was also an excellent soldier of New America, and he was even a fighting hero before being betrayed. Almost at the first sight when Deathstroke regained his original appearance, Johnny could tell that he was also a soldier.

"Who knows." Xili dragged the body on the ground and moved it to a hidden place. She straightened up and patted the dust on her hands: "But I advise you to prepare for the next mission seriously and don't ask about these historical issues. Okay, who of the decent people will be counted if they kill someone?"

How many were killed yesterday, how many will be killed tomorrow, and tomorrow after tomorrow, how many will there be tomorrow?

Except for psychopathic serial killers, no one will keep track of how many people they have killed, because once the number exceeds a certain number, there is no commemorative significance.

Ciri has grown up in a chaotic magical medieval world. Not to mention ID cards, some people there don't even have surnames. They are dead when they die, and their bodies will be dragged away by ghouls to build nests? Or get eaten by a spider crab? No one will remember them.

The more chaotic the world is, the cheaper human life is, and Night City is also such a place.

Besides, Deathstroke stayed here so that he could keep an eye on Roger and Johnny and listen to what they were communicating, not to answer questions.

"Haha, that's right." Johnny leaned against the wall of the corridor and shook his long hair. Even in the dark underground tunnel, he still wore sunglasses: "But don't worry, Otto's favorite It’s me, I can always make her obey.”

"Tch." Rogge made a disdainful sound, and she leaned next to Johnny: "You were able to deal with her in the past only because of your 'sleeping clothes', but now she has become a bunch of data without entity. Your The gadget is no longer available."

"Fake, are you jealous?" Johnny smiled crookedly. He took another sip of wine and handed the bottle to Roger: "Don't worry, I'm not as superficial as you think. Otto and I are together. Because we have the same ideals, not just because we are in tune with each other physically.”

"Whatever you say, you both are mentally ill, that's a fact." Roger took a few steps away with the bottle and drank a sip of wine for himself dully.

There's nothing I can do about it, my ex-girlfriend just doesn't have an advantage compared to my current girlfriend.

"That's why you need me, a madman, now." Johnny didn't mind either. He knew that in this environment, sober people are all madmen: "Anyway, just believe me. Just like before, I'm sure."

After saying that, Johnny moved a few steps towards Rogge, rubbed his shoulder against hers, and raised his eyebrows.

The latter stretched out his hand and slapped him, but then handed the bottle back, saying nothing or seemingly saying everything.

"."

Seeing this scene, Xili on the side felt that her teeth were sore, as if she had eaten plums. These two people were too numb.

Is it interesting to just keep flirting when we are together?

While the three of them were talking, the death knell that had just left had already gone and returned. He suddenly appeared under the dark red light, just like he suddenly disappeared before, and like a ghost suddenly appeared.

There was no blood on his body, but he had some smell of blood. Judging from the smile on his face, he probably found some fun in those unlucky Arasaka dead soldiers.

As a professional mercenary, Deathstroke doesn't take pleasure in killing people, so maybe the deaths of those people gave him the inspiration to create new jokes?

"Okay, now there is no living person except us in the underground facility, and I have turned off all the surveillance cameras." Su Ming walked to the middle of the three people and patted his elbow: "If you are ready , I will take you to the computer room."

"Let's go." Johnny couldn't wait any longer. He immediately exerted force on his lower back and bounced himself off the corridor wall: "Get it done early, and we'll go home early."

"You no longer have a home. For those who died, the house you rented has been taken back long ago." Rogge made a voice, and she smiled slightly: "The same is true for Ott, but you can stay at my place tonight. "

This was her plan, and she had no intention of covering it up.

"Fuck!" Johnny was unhappy again. While keeping up with Deathstroke, he punched the wall: "Damn, those collectibles in my house were cheapened by some real estate agent's bastard. "

His collection mainly falls into two categories, musical instruments and weapons. Otherwise, how could it be called a samurai band?

"They are all external possessions. Once you have the money, it won't be a waste to collect them." Su Ming continued to move forward without looking back, leading everyone around a few corners: "Did you see the door ahead? Our goal is there. later."

Everyone cast their gaze towards the darkness there.

The corridor filled with dark red lights gradually became wider. At the end of the corridor was a huge metal gate that looked like a bunker or a military underground hangar.

The Arasaka family's crest is printed on the door, and it looks eerie, like two messy blood stains.

The door itself should be made of high-strength alloy, but the manufacturing time should be quite long. It is not the latest scientific and technological achievement, but it is definitely thick and solid.

Everyone's destination is behind this door, which is the ultimate secret of the Arasaka Group.

"It looks like a fucking turtle shell." Johnny quickly ran over and touched the door. He knew from experience that the door was about one meter thick: "That bastard Saburo Arasaka is always so wretched."

This is a three-defense fortification, and it will definitely not explode with the small guns and cannons in everyone’s hands.

"It's okay, times have changed. In the past, this kind of door was difficult to open, mainly because it required authorization from multiple parties and hundreds of passwords to activate it, but it is different now."

After pinching the cigarette butt and putting it away, Deathstroke stood calmly in front of the door. He also looked up at the red family crest and tapped his ear:

"Lark, open this door for me. Although I already know the password from the dead man, it is still too troublesome to enter a mixture of one hundred digits, symbols and letters."

Let the hackers do what the hackers can do, give Lark some sense of participation, and let her experience Arasaka's top-notch network protection wall first.

You know she's going to hack into the shrine soon, so why don't you practice with the door with the same security protocol first?

"You are obviously very skilled, but you still let me open the door. How come I didn't realize you were so good at calling people before? Alas."

Although he said this, the lark still took action obediently, and the huge gate slowly rose amidst the churning sound of mechanical gears.

It's not difficult for her to open this door, but she also wants to be lazy.