Chapter 1300 - 422: I Want to Become Cuba’s Biggest Clickbaiter

Chapter 1300: Chapter 422: I Want to Become Cuba’s Biggest Clickbaiter

Stepping over the corpse, Shui Yue pulled open the car door and saw a wheelchair inside, barely hanging on with half a life left, almost torn apart by the shield-bearing soldier.

If it wasn’t for the fight outside that drew the soldier away, he would’ve been a goner.

"How’d you cause such a commotion on a simple recon mission? Couldn’t you have delayed a bit?"

"Don’t you see? This damn thing touched my celestial blessing."

The wheelchair pointed to his skull, freshly stitched up with staples.

Only someone like them could talk after having their skull opened up like that—normal folks couldn’t manage it even in a sterile surgery room.

"Now I feel my brain swaying, like it’s filled with water."

"Shit!"

Shui Yue struggled to hold back laughter and said,

"Touched your celestial blessing? That’s damn unlucky."

"Anyway, what important discovery did you make?"

"Just this."

After ensuring that the stapled skull wouldn’t wobble off, the wheelchair stood up and pushed open the door behind him, revealing a truck compartment filled with over a hundred brains.

"Hiss—"

Looking at those soft, pale brains, Shui Yue took in a sharp breath.

He began to be glad he hadn’t used any lethal weapons earlier.

In disbelief, he asked,

"Is the whole truck filled with this?"

"I fear the other trucks have similar cargo, at least hundreds of them. I guess they’re civilians or soldiers, definitely not Europeans. It’s utterly infuriating."

Shui Yue was silent for a while, smacking his lips.

"This is quite the scoop. Let’s record it first."

Livestreaming is out of the question; if you do, they’ll trace the internet cable and come for you.

But at least all the evidence must be collected for later reckoning.

Shui Yue leaned out and waved toward the outside of the car,

"Street rats, come over and check the vehicle terminal’s data records."

Then he addressed other players moving corpses,

"Leave those bodies there, don’t touch them. Don’t take the gear either; we need to head further inside, no point in lugging too much stuff."

The street rats accessed the surgical vehicle’s terminal, while also extracting the data chips from the lieutenant and soldier’s corpses for hacking.

Besides some useless logs and surgical records, the rest were shocking pieces of evidence.

Though the corporate device records used careful, concise wording, on their own, they’re hard to decipher.

[Requirement: 500 sets of neuronal tissue]

[0001: Completeness 87%, Rating C]

[0002: Completeness 93%, Rating B]

[0003...]

Every brain is tested for completeness and rated.

The data found by the street rats shows these ratings refer to the brain’s cognitive completeness after drug influence.

Although neural regulators can inhibit opioid receptors like Naloxone, they can only maintain the status quo.

This is no miracle cure; damage already inflicted is irreversible. Many people’s organ functions are gravely damaged, hollowed out by drugs in the literal sense — driven in the bone, utterly beyond saving.

Given that Cuba, the birthplace of many drugs, especially in their military, their brain completeness is presumably the lowest worldwide.

Thus, their system ratings are generally low, most are C, few are B, and D is rare.

At such a level, individuals can’t maintain effective cognitive abilities and end up ruined, leaving merely a husk seeking drugs.

Yet even so, these brains hold high value as processing raw materials in the eyes of European corporations.

The information found in the military officer’s data storage chips shows that, in Czechoslovakia’s underground market,

A B-rated brain goes for hundreds to a thousand range, while a C rating is worth a mere couple hundred.

An A-rated brain can fetch tens of thousands of Orokin, with the price continuously rising. The most crucial thing is, A-rated brains are forbidden to be removed prematurely, forbidden to inject drugs or anything potentially harmful to the brain—meaning live humans, conscious and awake, are sent to the auction.

So, in the eyes of the lieutenant, these deserters are hardly humans; they’re practically moving Orokin, worth a couple tens of thousands at least if sold.

That sum isn’t small for them, it’s at least three months’ wages.

Humanity has lost its identity as part of society, transforming into a mine-type resource.

Just like those brains behind the wheelchair, name, gender, life...everything once learned means nothing, leaving only a serial number and its upcoming marked market price.

Becoming a literal—human resource.

A crime beyond description?

Sin as deep as the ocean?

Infamous for eternity?

Even the wheelchair feels his verbal system is somewhat lacking for now.

After pondering for a long time, he spit out a single line:

"When are we going to Europe?"

"Who knows."

Shui Yue shrugged, stepped forward, and pulled shut the truck compartment door.

"It depends on when the planners unlock the Europe map, are you still executing the infiltration mission?"

Players who’ve run through Night City’s underground networks have significantly stronger mental resilience than ones coming later.

They’ve had genuine close encounters with ’Hell’.

A pile of brains isn’t provoking too much of a physiological reaction in Shui Yue.

What more with the cognitive filter from systems serving as the key firewall.

"Keep it going."

This task yields more results than the frontline; the wheelchair doesn’t intend to quit halfway.

When the two left, the players outside burst into laughter seeing the wheelchair with a circle of staples on his forehead.

"Holy shit! Curse seal!"

"Brain monster possessed Otto! How’d I end up dreaming like this?"