“Trying to obtain presidential campaign documents in New America’s territory, especially in what’s essentially a military training ground…

“Trying to obtain presidential campaign documents in New America’s territory, especially in what’s essentially a military training ground… the more I learn about this mission, the more it feels like we’re walking into a death trap.”

“Look on the bright side, Oliver. At least we’ll have seen the sights of Los Angeles before we die.”

While listening to Oliver and Jack chatting up front, Karl sat in the back seat of the car, mentally reviewing the information he’d gotten from the bar owner.

In total, Karl had asked about ten questions, and the cost was that every member of the team—except for him—was now stuffed to the brim. Still, they had a pretty solid grasp on how things worked in Los Angeles.

Calling LA a city was generous. It was more like an oversized military camp. Most of the residents worked in factories. The rest either ran businesses catering to soldiers and gang members or were in gangs themselves. There weren’t many places that served outsiders—and when it came to luxury accommodations, there was only one spot in town.

The Millennium Biltmore Hotel.

Built in 1922, this hotel boasted over a hundred years of history. Back in LA’s golden days, it was known as the city’s most photogenic hotel. Countless Hollywood stories used it as a backdrop, and even a former U.S. president famous for his wide smile once stayed there.

At the time, the hotel was a shining jewel in the City of Angels.

But all that glory ended with the second LA riot and the collapse of the United States.

During the chaos, the hotel was requisitioned by police and turned into the last stronghold of government resistance in the city. But as time went on, corrupt higher-ups in the force continued to indulge themselves, while lower-ranking officers, fed up with the worsening situation, eventually joined the rioters. With inside help, the once-prestigious hotel couldn’t withstand the assault. It fell, and the mob destroyed everything inside.

Over the following years, control of the hotel changed hands many times—until the day the New United States arrived during the Unification War. That’s when a high-ranking official from Militech, someone who knew what he was doing, took over the building. While transforming LA into a military zone, he also made sure to reserve this spot for himself and any visiting dignitaries.

Under his command, the abandoned hotel was brought back to life. As more troops arrived and the city’s strategic value grew, the Biltmore became Militech’s main base of operations in Los Angeles. Every Militech agent sent to LA reported there for duty.

Today, the fully refurbished Millennium Biltmore wasn’t just a place for guests from around the world—it was a showroom, a place for Militech to flaunt its power to other corporations.

Among the guests were foreign diplomats. They came to tour what was now America’s largest military training base. From high above, through their optic implants, they observed the street skirmishes below, studying the real-world performance of various weapon systems.

Karl and the others were now on their way to the Biltmore.

The street fight from earlier had ended quickly. Both sides knew each other well. These daily clashes rarely lasted longer than ten minutes. Reinforcements from both gangs soon arrived, the leaders called a ceasefire, and things calmed down.

Their Skysphere Hera glided smoothly over the blood and shell casings.

According to the bartender, these fights happened multiple times a day. They were scattered across the city. Fighters who performed well were often handpicked that same night to join New America’s army. From that point on, they were no longer just another face in the crowd—they became the true rulers of the city. That’s why both the Gearheads and the Pebbles were so eager to brawl. Large-scale battles were forbidden, though. Too much collateral damage.

“You think they realize they’re just being used as test subjects? This sounds more like a weapons test than anything else,” V asked.

“Of course they know,” Karl replied calmly. “And not only do they know—they understand it perfectly. Just like the Tyger Claws in Night City, who accept risky body mod experiments from Arasaka in exchange for power, these people get it. Every corporation operates this way. The only difference is that Militech has a much larger presence in the Americas. Who knows—maybe Arasaka has some bioweapon testing grounds in Japan too.”

“So they don’t see anything wrong with it? Killing each other just to be part of some experiment?”

“They don’t see it as wrong.”

Karl’s voice stayed even. He thought of the ACPA pilots he had taken down—children raised by Militech, turned into tools.

“All they see is that the fastest, deadliest, and most cyber-compatible of their peers become New American soldiers. They rise above the rest. You know why it’s always young people being tested? Because uneducated kids raised in carefully controlled environments are easy to mold. And they’ve still got the energy and ambition to fight.”

“But what they’ll never realize is that, at the end of all that slaughter, even the so-called New American soldier is just a more efficient tool.”

Oliver gripped the steering wheel. “If being in New America’s army was so great, Maine and Brown wouldn’t have left and come to Night City. Hell, even Night City is better than that dump. I get it now—why they envy us, why they hate Night City so much. Compared to this place, even Night City looks like paradise.”

“And that’s saying something,” Jack laughed, slipping on a pair of sunglasses.

“We’re almost there. Gotta admit, this place is fancy. Not as high-end as Sapphire Tower or Gem Blue, but it’s got style. Alright, let’s go. With the IDs T-Bug set up for us, we’re now high-class bodyguards for a young heir.”

“Still not sure how solid those fake identities are,” Oliver said. “T-Bug said she was using some minor corp’s satellite to reach us, but she hasn’t pinged us again. That’s got me on edge.”

“Relax,” V chuckled. “If I had to trust any netrunner in Night City, it’d be T-Bug.”

He adjusted his sunglasses and looked over at Karl.

“Well, young master, you got your outfit ready?”

“Yeah, just about.”

Karl adjusted the collar of the suit he’d kept from that party at Gem Blue.

“Now let’s show off those mods you were talking about. I’ve been watching the route—we’re clean. No cameras except for that one at the bar we already fed a fake leaving sequence. As far as anyone’s concerned, we left LA hours ago. Apart from the satellite our mysterious employer might still be using to watch us, we’re good.”

“Oh, we’ll blow your mind,” Oliver grinned.

A panel popped up from the center of the dashboard—Karl recognized it from Johnson’s car. Oliver hit the button, and Karl felt the Hera’s outer shell shifting.

After all, no heir and his entourage would show up in something as crude as a Skysphere Hera. During the off-road customization phase, V had already planned for this.

It was just a shell, but by the time the Hera rolled up to the front of the Millennium Biltmore Hotel and caught the eye of the welcoming staff, it looked like a completely different luxury vehicle—sleek, sophisticated, and totally untraceable.

–

–

–

🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless

📢 Chooms, Listen Up! 📢

You can now jack in and get 100 chapters ahead on Patreon for Cyberpunk: The Relentless! 💾🔥

Stay synced with the chrome, the carnage, and the chaos—early access is stacked and ready. 🧠💀

🔗 Join here: www.patreon.com/c/MrMagnus

👤 Patreon name: SrMagnus🐦 Follow on Twitter: https://x.com/SrMagnusBook

⚠️ Remember, I’ll always post more chapters of the novel that gets the most Power Stones!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep