Chapter 1281 - 415: The First Prisoner of War Camp World War_3

Chapter 1281: Chapter 415: The First Prisoner of War Camp World War_3

And these European soldiers told Henry a collection of jokes

The authors of this joke collection included Cubans, Europeans, various gangs in Night City, the Chaotic Blade Association, mercenaries, corporate dogs, and middlemen; you could call it a tradition.

(Extras: One Hundred Things You Must Know About Horizon Mercenaries)

Henry was horrified as he listened

Some Cubans, upon learning the situation, were tempted as well, since they too had families, and during such wartime chaos, nothing was more precious than reporting safety to family members.

After shedding that beastly skin, they ultimately wanted to be human.

However, they did not know Henry, so they could only entrust the highest-ranking officer among the prisoners, Major Barnes, to plead with the guard Todd (a former member of the Sixth Street Gang).

"This is probably difficult to manage."

"Why can those Europeans do it?!"

Barnes was furious for a moment

The guys in front of him weren’t any good Samaritans, and even after enduring months of ’Dragon Field’ training, those with gang backgrounds were still ruthless killers; they were really good at dealing with these disadvantaged folks.

"Is this your attitude when asking for a favor?"

Just a glare from the eyes weakened the already disadvantaged Barnes’s aura

When dealing with Anglo-bandits, there’s no concept of equality; either you kneel, or he kneels—someone’s gotta stand up as the boss.

Why do you think Night City people are so obedient now? Isn’t it because of the frightful fame earned by players with kill-death ratios close to six figures?

This bunch is truly capable of wiping out your entire family.

"I just... we can pay. How much for sending an email, name your price."

"This isn’t a money issue."

Todd leisurely poured Barnes a cup of tea and said

"They can email because the European satellite network is developed, but you know yourselves the state of Cuban infrastructure. Now our connection with Cuba is physically severed by the Havana group, and emails can’t get through; can’t have someone hand-deliver handwritten ones, can we?"

"This... sigh...."

Only then did Barnes realize it wasn’t the other side making things difficult deliberately, but rather an impossibility, so he could only leave dejectedly.

After he left, Brother Dao pushed open the door from the other room and entered.

Kaud looked curiously at this famous figure of the Night City underground radio station

"Why did you have me lie to him?"

A physical disconnect doesn’t mean it’s impossible to connect to the Cuban network; for Horizon Corporation, which owned several Ye family satellites, forced connectivity was indeed achievable.

"I’m planning to test the waters with a vlog first; gotta prepare the whole setup."

Brother Dao sat on a chair, took out a terminal, and brought up the prisoner camp surveillance network and said

"Just wait and watch the show."

"By the way, have the people ready to control the situation and prevent casualties."

"Huh? What did you do?"

"Nothing at all."

————

"There’s a reply! There’s a reply!"

The European prisoners surrounded Henry and his terminal, shouting excitedly, and even the guard lent them a printer to print the letters

"The first letter is from Mephistopheles! Mephistopheles!"

"I’m here!"

"Pierre!"

"I’m here!"

They cheered while passing around comrades’ letters, perhaps the happiest moment they’d had in days

Nothing was more reassuring than letters from family.

"My wife gave birth! It’s a boy! They’re waiting for me to name him."

A soldier waved his letter, first cheering ecstatically, then sat on the ground crying, embracing the letter

He didn’t know if he could ever leave Cuba alive to see his son.

The other soldiers immediately gathered around him, embracing, cheering together

"Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll make it back alive!"

"If we get back, I want to be your son’s godfather!"

The hope brought by new life offered a rare glimmer of light to their dreary prisoner camp life.

Their cheers were overheard by the nearby Cubans, with perfect contrasting atmospheres

One side cheered, while the other was icy cold

A Cuban soldier clenched his fist and spoke low with sadness

"I also have a newborn son... he was just a month old when I left..."

The sorrow spread quickly among the Cuban camp; humans are empathetic creatures, and many began reminiscing about their own families

In Cuba, this impoverished country, they emphasized blood relatives even more because it was the essential rule for collective survival.

An English soldier holding a letter walked out of the crowd and saw the envious looks from the Cubans as he walked past, then smugly waved the letter in his hand

He then spat, and the spittle hit a Cuban soldier’s foot.

"Bunch of trash."

That contempt deeply pierced the hearts of the Cuban soldiers.

If it were in the past, they would have silently swallowed the humiliation like countless times before.

However, at this moment, they were immersing in the sadness of being unable to contact their families.

"Why don’t you say that again!"

A Cuban soldier stood up, glaring at the Brit

"We’re all stuck in this place. What makes you so mighty?"

His boldness gained more support from other Cuban soldiers

"Yeah, forcing us forward as cannon fodder, who do you think you are!"

"European bastards! This is our Cuba!"

The crowd’s emotions instantly rose, and even Barnes, frowned by rejection by the guards, decided to give in

"Get him!"

A dozen of Barnes’s direct subordinates rushed in, pummeling the Brit with punches and kicks, and nearby British soldiers immediately noticed the skirmish, yelling

"Cuban trash is attacking!"

"Byrne is being beaten, quickly help!"

If it were previously, the difference in prosthetics would have made it impossible for British soldiers to be pinned down by Cubans, but in restricted low-power prosthetics, they were nearly indistinguishable from flesh.

Like any prison riot, the scuffle quickly escalated into a brawl; hundreds of aggrieved Cubans unable to contact their families swarmed the British camp in grief-driven fury.

The first war in the prisoner camp erupted.

Though this war’s weapons were only fists, perhaps a tray as well