The Undying Transmigrator

Chapter 8: Overly Friendly Corporate Friends

Outside the door, Kai waited anxiously. The moment Mo Wen emerged, he rushed forward to ask, "How did it go?"

Mo Wen rolled his eyes at him. "Since you're still alive, obviously we reached an agreement."

"Drive. I've arranged a meeting point with your gang leader to collect the gang members I ordered."

Kai quickly complied, taking Mo Wen to the rendezvous point.

The Hawks Gang Leader stood beside an armored vehicle with one fully cybernetically enhanced individual and two highly modified cyborgs, all equipped with high-tech armor and weapons that impressed even Mo Wen.

The gang leader glanced at Kai without comment, addressing Mo Wen coldly: "Get in, employer."

Mo Wen immediately switched vehicles but couldn't hide his surprise. "Why did you come personally?"

As the gang leader started the vehicle and received the mission starting point information from Mo Wen, he replied, "You offered 120,000 credits upfront. I couldn't provide personnel worthy of that price without giving our best - and I am our gang's strongest."

Mo Wen chuckled appreciatively. "I respect that - knowing the product should match the price. Did you buy all this equipment just to justify my payment?"

The gang leader shook his head. "No upgrades yet. Corporate-issued equipment still offers better value than market weapons.""My life is worth 10,000 credits, these two 5,000 each - already deposited in the gang's fund. The remaining 100,000 can buy equipment, but we expect proper compensation matching our efforts after this mission."

Mo Wen assured him, "Naturally. You get what you pay for - I don't cheat people."

The gang leader's steel jaw twitched in an attempt to smile. "Then we'll never betray a friend either."

The ride passed in silence as Mo Wen researched mercenary and weapon information online until they reached the corporate mission starting point.

A Dreamweaver Entertainment-branded truck stood parked there, surrounded by uniformed teenagers who appeared completely normal as they networked and worked on various tasks.

Only when Mo Wen's armored vehicle parked beside them did they look up, curiously examining Mo Wen and the three cyborgs while murmuring among themselves:

"That's such an outdated model! Mercenaries actually use that generation of cybernetics? Completely inhuman! The sensory systems barely interface with human brains anymore - severe identity dissonance risks psychosis, plus terrible performance."

"Old humans have such limited neural plasticity. They can't adapt to higher-tier modifications, and anthropomorphic enhancements don't improve their quality of life. This is all they can manage."

"How tragic. They'll go insane eventually. Even if old humans are destined for obsolescence, this isn't the way. I can't bear to watch."

One girl approached, ignoring the mission to advise the gang leader: "You should upgrade to gentler implants before you lose your minds."

The gang leader scoffed, "You paying for that?"

The instant a payment notification chimed, his demeanor transformed. His steel face contorted into a grateful expression: "Thank you for the donation. But this is my work - I bear responsibilities and am prepared to die completing this mission."

The girl looked puzzled. "What responsibilities?"

The gang leader bent down to her eye level politely. "I want Outer Ring children to become productive workers through augmentation - to live dignified lives with proper jobs."

The girl looked impressed. "I see. Sadly, I can't afford that scale of change yet."

"But know our generation is researching lower-cost methods to fully convert legacy humans like you. Even if our elders consider natural obsolescence preferable, we won't abandon you."

Mo Wen cleared his throat. "We're mercenaries here for a job."

Compared to grand ideals, earning their pay took priority.

The girl seemed confused. "Is there a problem?"

The gang leader reminded her, "We're on work hours now. Also, we'd like to purchase some corporate weapons."

Nodding, the girl called to a differently dressed boy: "Team Lead, grant them temporary access."

The employee leader's cybernetic eye flashed. "Access granted. For this mission duration, you may purchase mercenary equipment at internal rates. No reselling - we will reclaim it."

"You understand the mission parameters?"

Mo Wen confirmed: "Five teams total must deliver Dreamweaver Entertainment cargo to an offsite lab within two days. We handle one route, possibly facing Life Pharmaceuticals mercenary attacks - correct?"

The team lead nodded. "Exactly. Just proxy mercenary skirmishes - far from actual conflict. But you know other mercenaries won't hold back."

"If you can't protect the cargo, just flee. It's nothing critical, and dying won't save it anyway."

"Failure means blacklisting, forfeited payment, and credit penalties for your guarantor."

Mo Wen smiled confidently. "Against civilian-grade opposition? I don't expect to lose."

The team lead smiled back. "Then good luck."

He paused, studying the four before adding: "If facing impossible odds with no escape... play dead when critically wounded. Gamble."

"Officially, mercenaries are expendable. But I personally bought you health insurance."

He pressed a fist to his chest. "May all lives receive equal respect."

The other employees mirrored his solemn gesture before relaxing.

One boy eagerly approached: "Want maximum value from our weapons? You need expert advice. I know this gear inside out."

"Interested in recommendations or demo videos?"

Mo Wen naturally accepted: "Details please."