The Egyptian Beauty, just back from Haywood, gaped as the noodle shop at the head of the snack street shone brightly in the eyes of the players.
From an angle invisible to others, a golden banner floated above the shop, ridiculously extravagant, enough to make someone think they’d walked into an online game. Content originally comes from n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net
This is so damn abstract.
But because this banner was so conspicuous, the front of the noodle shop was crowded with players who had just come back from fooling around, pointing fingers at the banner, which confused the vendors.
"Floating Red Flag, seems like something made for lifestyle players and NPCs."
The lousy warrior sitting on the stool and slurping noodles said.
He had just returned from Watson District, partly to check out Brother Dao’s commission for any big news, and partly to test the Vortex Gang, a group closest to cyber madmen who have little contact with players, showing less hostility and vigilance.
Egyptian Beauty found a spot beside him to sit, feeling both amused and exasperated.
"Floating Red Flag? How does this ridiculous thing appear in the game?"
"Who knows what the planners are thinking."
The lousy warrior took a gulp of ice water.
No choice, being from Kowloon, he couldn’t handle heavy flavors.
The ramen broth was ridiculously salty, adding oil and salt like it was free, he even specially told the owner to put less, but the taste was still overpowering.
The Egyptian Beauty whispered, "So, how’s exploiting the Vortex Gang’s bug?"
The game money does not last at all, cybernetics, guns, cars, dorm decorations, custom equipment are all money pits, and the coins saved from several events are almost blown by the planners.
Players’ spending speed stunned those mercenaries.
For them, ten to twenty thousand Euros would mean living for the moment, indulging in food, drinks, and pleasures, only then considering buying an expensive cybernetic with careful planning.
But this group spends freely, their mouths stuffed with bullets.
Things like exotic cars, custom swords, color-changing cybernetic eyes, and useless exteriors all get maxed out, while practicality falls to second place.
So earning money has become the top priority for players.
Some, like Brother Dao, are ready to run a radio station to attract investments, some plan to open a beverage factory, some even prepare to open a small shop, and others rally to invest in Night City’s stock market.
Lin Miao doesn’t plan to stop them, anyone going there is dead meat, stripped clean, and once they go bankrupt using leverage, they’ll learn the pain.
And these are considered walking the straight path; some players have already stepped onto the crooked path.
Like the lousy warrior.
As a cop, he has sunk to this level, truly unpredictable.
He shook his head, "Those guys are cautious, loans are hard to scam, they’re reluctant to lend."
Brother Dao’s squad thought up the idea of exploiting high-interest loans from gangs.
They prohibit me from loan sharking, but they didn’t prohibit me from borrowing from loan sharks.
No matter if it’s a 9 to 13 return or a sky-high interest rate, I don’t care.
If you’re willing to lend, I’m willing to take.
Once I have the money, I’ll dare to perish, and I’m invincible with no kin, no folks, and a worthless life.
Just say, do you give it or not?
However, gang loans aren’t easy to obtain, they’re not idiots lending to just anyone.
"What is this, even gangs won’t give loans now?"
The Egyptian Beauty found it strange; back when he studied in the United States, they were eager to chase you down with loans, the same even after returning home.
How come Night City’s gangs started doing checks now?
After finishing his noodles, the cop wiped his mouth with a napkin and began explaining to the Egyptian Beauty.
"That group of modders demands political checks and physical exams for loans, just like a damn bank."
"I passed the physical check, no problems, just couldn’t pass the identity and asset reviews were too difficult; they only offered a limit of 2000, and if I can’t repay, they’ll take my kidney for debt."
The Egyptian Beauty exclaimed, "2000? These tightwads, that’s too stingy, Tutu’s kidney is clearly valued at 5000 on the scavenger’s ledger, making a huge profit off the difference."
If the game didn’t prohibit organ trading, players would have already turned to scavengers to sell their organs.
"2000 was offered with my organs as collateral, without collateral, only 500 can be borrowed, actually having 450 in hand is fortunate."
The lousy warrior complained, "If I borrowed money, they’d send someone to monitor me, wouldn’t let me escape."
The Egyptian Beauty frowned, "What to do then? This bug can’t make money."
Over 2000 isn’t worth players suiciding to lie dead for three days.
"It’s not entirely hopeless." The lousy warrior changed his tone.
As a current cop, although not one who managed financial crime, having been exposed, he had heard many cases.
There’s a saying that goes.
It’s not the fear of financial crime.
It’s the fear of those managing finances committing crimes.
Night City is full of lawless people, and due to cutthroat competition, financial and capital flow supervision is lax. No one dares massive financial fraud because those companies are ruthless enough.
But what if a group doesn’t treat their lives as lives?
He whispered to the Egyptian Beauty, "If we do it, let’s do something big, pull in more people, form a financial group, and skim off more before the planners notice."
After all, it’s just a game; even killing has no moral burden, so what’s some financial fraud?
Besides, there’s an inherent information barrier between players and NPCs, no matter how smart the NPCs are, they can’t wipe them out in reality, can they?
The Egyptian Beauty hesitated, "But... I mean, but if the planners find out, what then? They might trace assets and seize everything back, maybe even ban our accounts at worst."