Chapter 170: The Concept of the Lizard Berserk Component

Why did Nash have information about the Wraith camp? Leo could only assume that Nash was also looking for a chance to sell out his boss, Bowen. The Wraths gang was a group devoid of loyalty, and the Scav were a collection of the most vicious liars, rapists, and murderers. They only came together for things like robbery, murder, rape, and theft. When faced with danger, they lived by one rule: "Better my friend dies than me." Bowen probably didn't even know yet that both Nash and the Militech squad had been wiped out. Now was the time to strike the Wraiths; who knows when they'd get another chance? Militech companies found it difficult to track nomads in the Badlands, and it would be even harder without the help of the Wraiths. The cement factory wasn't far, about a two-hour drive. In the car, Leo started explaining their next objective: Leo: "Listen up, the data Nash left contains the coordinates of the Wraith camp, and their boss Bowen is there now." Leo: "If we take down this base, they'll be scattered. Without the Wraiths, the military tech teams will struggle even more to find nomads in the Badlands." Saul: "But the blockade will continue—bad news is, the Stone Ridge camp only has two days' worth of supplies." Leo: "That's all the more reason to hit the base. Bowen probably used Nash as bait from the start, and wouldn't have left many supplies behind. There might be a lot of military-grade equipment at the cement factory. Maine, you'll lead the charge, and Adecardo will continue providing fire support from outside." Maine: "Understood." Cedric: "We're not going in?" Leo: "Not at first—inside a confined space, high-grade cybernetic bodies become even more dangerous. Who knows what gear the Militech might have given these lunatics?" Leo: "Plus, you guys have a more important task: the Militech team may send reinforcements, and you need to set up an ambush like before." Saul: "Will it still work?" Leo: "Good question, but I can't guarantee that. What I can guarantee is that every missile left unused today will only become less effective over time. The Miltech commander leading the operation now is an inexperienced academic, but that doesn't mean the entire Militech force is made up of academics. To make the most of these weapons, we need to finish this today." Whether it would be 100% effective, or if people would die—those were pointless questions. Everyone knew the risks. Cedric: "Saul, stop with the whining. How come you're acting like a woman after all these years? Just focus and tell the team how we're going to take down those old bastards." Leo: "That's it. Your main task is to secure the perimeter of the building. If any reinforcements show up, unleash all your ammunition. Missiles, grenades, bullets—don't hold back. If you see someone, shoot them. We don't need any survivors." While talking, Leo was assembling some biological material in the front seat. It was a glass jar containing a small segment of bone, darker and more greenish than typical bones. Attached to the bone was a thick, reptilian muscle structure, quite different from human muscles. Several cybernetic implants were embedded around the bone and muscle, primarily used for monitoring biomolecules and physical conditions, separated from the human tissue by molecular sieves. Clearly, this bone had been soaked in a nutrient solution mixed with lizard serum. Leo finished assembling the components and sent an electric current through them. The muscle suddenly twitched, unleashing a strength far beyond that of mammalian muscles of the same size, and the bone perfectly withstood the force. From the driver's seat, V grimaced at the sight: "What is that? Looks freakish." "Jackie's bones and muscles—know about the berserk component?" The berserk component was an early military cybernetic enhancement that combined hormone regulation, pain editing, and bio-stimulation technologies. By directly controlling and stimulating the user's physiological functions, it eliminated emotions like pain, fear, and even joy, which were unnecessary in combat. Even if someone had a full titanium skeleton, they would still feel pain under pressure and blows, making them hesitate. But with this component, as long as the bones weren't broken, the user wouldn't believe they were in danger. In this state, the user could push their biological and cybernetic capabilities to the limit. Because of this, early elite assault units loved installing these things. However, the berserk component was also notorious for causing cyberpsychosis. V: "Of course I know—back when the corporation went crazy, they developed that psychosis-inducing module. Only madmen and freaks would install that thing. Ever since Sandevistan came out, people prefer that when they have a choice." "I'm trying to develop a new version of the berserk component." A person's consciousness mostly depends on the brain, and the lizard serum is no exception. If we can control the circulation of the serum in the system to minimize its effect on the brain, can we prevent the berserk effect? So far, it seems possible by inserting molecular sieves at various points in the circulatory system to control the spread of the drug. This isn't too complicated. It just requires adding a few parts to the joints or other cybernetic components. We can also monitor the mutated cells with a technique called cellular adaptation to limit their spread to the brain. This method has an advantage over traditional berserk components: anti-lizard serum can quickly neutralize all residual effects. Compared to the complex hormone control methods of the berserk component, this straightforward "emergency stop" system makes controlling the implant easier. And all the necessary equipment was scavenged from the junkyard— Cellular adapters, molecular sieves, molecular sieve editors, advanced real-time DNA monitoring devices—all secured. Although the quality of the equipment is a bit low, I'm only customizing the component for Jackie, and I'll add plenty of safety valves." V clicked his tongue: "So, you really are making a custom implant!" "This thing looks all green—like the stuff you made for yourself last time?" "Close enough, an offshoot product." "That's amazing. Can I use it?" "In theory, yes, but it's not necessary." "You think I'm not worthy?" "Use your brain for once?" Leo snapped. "The berserk component conflicts with Sandevistan!" V was about to argue back but relaxed after hearing the reason—it made sense. "I know, I just wanted to see if you knew." "Yeah, right. Stop kidding yourself—you're brainless, but I don't hold it against you." Jackie's massive gorilla arms were a force to be reckoned with, and when other cybernetics weren't strong enough, the power from those arms couldn't fully activate. The serum would start by enhancing the legs, strengthening the bones and muscles from the ground up, which would also help dissipate its effects before reaching the brain. That's why Jackie was the perfect candidate for the berserk component. The lizard serum customized for Jackie was already prepared, and the theory had been fully tested. Now it was just a matter of engineering the custom implant. Leo: "Jackie, you'll lead the charge in this assault—equip the magnetic components and use them as needed." Jackie: "Got it—this gun I just found is great, hehe." V rolled his eyes: "Poor Jackie, doesn't even realize he's about to become the first guinea pig for Evil Burger King." Leo: "That's enough. You'll be begging me to give you cybernetics one day." V: "Hey, Leo—did you forget you still owe me 700,000? By the way, where did you suddenly get all that money this time? I need to tally things up." Leo cut her off: "We're approaching the cement factory! Everyone, stay alert!" (End of Chapter) Wraith Camp. Bang! A gray-black bionic arm slammed into a solid steel punching bag, warping it as it flew through the air. The hunk of iron soared up and then dropped back down. The man dodged to the side and threw another punch as if practicing boxing with an opponent. One hit, two hits, three hits— Bang! The accumulated kinetic energy snapped the iron chain, sending the iron block flying into a steel pillar in the cement factory. The echo resounded throughout the factory. "Too bad, those nomads are pretty tough. We can't keep playing this slow game." Bowen, a burly man nearly two meters tall with a blue mohawk, spoke. Both of his arms had undergone modifications, made of custom bionic fibers using top-tier technology. They were powered by micro-fuel engines and bio-motors, distributing energy efficiently throughout his arms. These arms were so strong that one punch could pierce bulletproof steel plates— But the rest of his body wasn't modified enough to withstand that kind of force. Bowen relaxed his body and turned to one of his subordinates. "When's that guy Jotaro Kujo in the city making the next delivery?" (TN:Is that a motherfucking jojo reference) "He said everything's ready, just waiting for the cops and the military to clear it." "Good." Bowen licked his lips. "Damn, these days it's hard to find a couple of fresh kids." This time, he'd hit the jackpot: Militech had supplied them with a huge batch of goods, ordering them to kill people. But with a little trickery, they hadn't used much of the resources, and Militech had to step in themselves— A win-win! Now, he just needed to sell the surplus military supplies on the black market, make a killing, and then buy some toys to enjoy. That's life! As Bowen indulged in these twisted thoughts about how to enjoy the stolen goods from Militech, a voice from outside the factory shouted urgently: "Boss! Boss!! There's a convoy coming!" Bowen frowned—his subordinate burst through the warehouse door, slamming into it from running too fast. "What the hell? Are you sure?" "I'm sure! Militech's drone got a clear look. It seems to be Aldecaldos!" "Aldecaldos? Are you fucking kidding me? Militech cornered them at Stone Ridge, and now you're telling me an Aldecaldos convoy is coming here? Are you high? Seeing ghosts—oh, wait, we are ghosts!" "Hahaha—" "I'm serious! I swear—" Zap! The drone screen his subordinate was wearing on his head suddenly exploded! Bowen couldn't laugh anymore. His expression quickly shifted as he immediately dialed the contact from Militech. At the Militech office, Meredith had stopped thinking— She was facing the same dilemma as her former colleagues in the city center: You couldn't say they were careless; they'd already mobilized the maximum resources they could to accomplish a goal. Yet somehow, every time they closed in, the enemy responded with even more brute force. It was like the enemy didn't care that they were in the city center, didn't care about attacking a megacorp, didn't care about the consequences of such raids. And the most frustrating part? They kept winning! What now? She had no troops left. The closest units were border patrol forces from Militech, but— Those units couldn't be moved, and even if they could, they wouldn't listen to her. Even if they did, where was she supposed to find those nomads? [New message from: Wraiths] Bowen: Fuck you, Militech! You let them escape?! Meredith clung to the message box like it was a lifeline— This was her last chance! An idea flashed in her mind: If Bowen used Nash as bait, she could use Bowen as bait. One way or another, the enemy had to be eliminated! Meredith: They made it over? Bowen: Yeah, they're here! Damn it, get me some backup now. I've lost dozens of men today! Meredith: Big talk. When your ass is on fire, try speaking more politely. Bowen: My ass on fire? Yours is the one that's burning! When I die, let's see which idiot in the Badlands still wants to work with Militech. Bowen: When I'm dead, everyone in the Badlands will know you're useless. I don't know what'll happen to Militech, but you'll definitely be buried in toxic waste! Meredith's blood pressure spiked, but she kept her cool. Meredith: Listen up. That batch of Militech gear you received? I'll upload a new driver upgrade and firmware update for it. Meredith: Don't get killed too quickly. We'll be there soon. Bowen: That's more like it—damn, hurry up. How the hell did you let them get away? Meredith cut off the communication. She had no desire to argue with that slippery bastard from the Wraiths. On another front: there was no way the ambush on Militech could go public. She wasn't an idiot. But she'd forgotten that if Bowen didn't know the full extent of the Aldecaldos' firepower, how could he prepare for the fight? Meredith had a background as a covert operative—but commanding combat? She was purely an academic. The kind who hadn't touched those skills since leaving school. Besides, the main issue now was that both the Wraiths and Aldecaldos had to die! The Wraiths had obtained proprietary company drives, and the Aldecaldos had inflicted massive damage on the company's image—both of these needed to be handled by her. No troops on hand? Trick the border patrol. How to trick the border patrol colleagues? Solidify the target's identity as a fugitive, then send it to the border patrol commander as official intel. Verifying the target would be a major credit. If they captured the target, confirming it as the recent A-Class fugitive, even if things went wrong, she wouldn't be dumped into the sea. Probably. "Damn it. They have to be fugitives." Meredith took a deep drag from her cigarette before throwing it to the ground—this time, she'd handle it herself. [Militech Internal Notification] [A-Class Fugitive: Burger King, Leader of Burger King Big Shots] [Sighting: Badlands] [Current Status: Fleeing toward the border, may know of unrecorded smuggling routes] [Requesting Support.] [Militech Internal System Processing Result:] [Border Armored Units to Assist in the Capture.] "Quick, quick, quick, get the gear on this batch of guys—two of you, get over here. New Militech cyberware and drivers, installing them is like winning the lottery!" The entire Wraith camp sprang into action—as long as their leader was alive and hadn't fallen, their efficiency was high. Bowen held a Saratoga submachine gun in his arms, shouting orders and waving his arm around. A small subordinate passed by him, and Bowen grabbed him by the collar: "You, go to the modification room. I've got something good for you." The subordinate laughed awkwardly, about to speak— Smack! Bowen slapped him across the face, still smiling. To an outsider, it might've looked like a big brother lovingly advising his little bro. "Listen up, Militech firmware. Once it's installed, you'll be able to use that badass Minotaur mech." The subordinate, now too scared to speak, nodded furiously, trembling like a frightened animal in Bowen's grip. "Alright, go on—bring another one, too. Each Minotaur mech costs hundreds of thousands, full Militech edition, let's try them all!" Bowen grabbed another guy, and the three of them headed into the cyberware modification room. "It's you two this time. Once this is done, you'll be second-in-command. Ever seen a Minotaur mech?" Bowen pointed to two large crates nearby, then pushed the two subordinates onto the operating tables. "In a bit, you'll be in those things, tearing everything apart—this is genuine Militech gear. You'll be crushing people like they're little chicks. Alright, start the modifications." The two swallowed nervously, their eyes filled with a mix of excitement and fear— Half-willingly, they laid down on the operating tables. Bowen gave a look to the cyberware doctor. The doctor injected both with a hefty dose of anesthetic— In no time, the two unlucky guys were sleeping like babies. "Max out the power, link it all through their nervous systems." "Boss, that's dangerous—" "I know. Keep them on anesthetic. When I tell them to wake up, you make them wake up. Oh, and take out the cyber reception module—no point in leaving it for cyberpsychos to use. Can't have them getting hacked." The tech was indeed impressive. But he had no interest in becoming a cyberpsycho. Being a cyberpsycho meant even your dick had to be removed, and then how would he mess with kids? Better to let his subordinates become the psychos. With that thought, Bowen shouted a few more orders over the channel and hurried toward the basement.