Cyberpunk: Cross-dimensional Science and Engineering

Anthony looked like an honest man.

John instantly knew something was wrong—these guys came for a zero-pay shopping spree!

He immediately grabbed a chair from the hallway and threw it at the door, blocking it.

The intruders at the doorway, like zombies, pushed from behind and the front ones tripped over the chair and the half-broken door, screaming as they were pressed to the ground by those behind them.

Once that was done, John grabbed a long-handled umbrella and smashed it down!

"Grab something! They're here to rob us!" John yelled at Anthony, still looking around for a handy weapon.

By the time he picked up another small round stool, the thugs had squeezed inside, and Anthony finally reacted!

"Damn it!"

A baseball bat swung at Anthony, and had it hit his head, it would have caused at least a concussion!

Bang!

The baseball bat struck the stool, and John kicked the leader back with a straight kick, then quickly pulled Anthony back.

Lille had run off long ago, cursing loudly, "Damn, there aren't many people at home now, hold them off!"

By four-thirty in the afternoon, the men had gone out looking for jobs, and most of the women had left too!

There was a small rectangular area at the apartment entrance where you could place coats or umbrellas, and there was also a table where Rigordo had placed two flowerpots.

John pulled Anthony over, then picked up a flowerpot and hurled it out.

Anthony did likewise, throwing a flowerpot out, which dazed the lead thug standing there while others kept pushing from behind, turning the scene into complete chaos, giving a feeling of one man holding the fort.

But this feeling lasted only a moment, as a curly-haired thug carrying a steel pipe rushed in and crashed into Anthony, the two grappling fiercely!

John wanted to help, but more and more thugs kept rushing in. The good news was that not all of them were armed; the bad news was that they were crazy!

John was burly, stopping two thugs trying to rush inward by himself. Surprisingly, they even tried to convince John to let them through!

"Get lost! We're just taking stuff! Watch your life!"

John exploded in anger, "You little scoundrels, this is my home! This is my home! It's you who should be getting lost!"

The chaos caught the attention of other people in the apartment, and Lille's message had them hurriedly reinforcing their doors!

A few thugs, like fish slipping through a net, rushed upstairs. Although there were many people in the apartment building, he was not afraid.

His experience told him that most people are cowards. He could just barge in and steal their phones, wallets...

They wouldn't even resist!

Thank the gangs!

Bang!

A piece of an umbrella suddenly protruded from apartment 201—a large umbrella like those used by street vendors. The thug slammed into it, turned his head just in time to see a fierce Russian woman swinging a cast-iron skillet at him!

The crisp sound added a rhythmic beat to the chaos, and the apartment owner stepped out—

Rigordo's booming voice filled the apartment building, "This is our home! You are the ones who should get lost!"

As he yelled, he threw another flowerpot towards the thugs climbing the stairs!

The scene descended into chaos, causing a few first-time zero-pay shoppers to start doubting themselves! Why was it not like what their seniors had described? Weren't they supposed to smash everything, while people screamed and cried, standing helplessly at the side, and then they would leave with full loads?

Bang!

A gunshot broke the chaos, and everyone stopped and looked towards the doorway—

A bloodied, dirty-haired black man holding a gun, clutching his head with an angry face—and in his hand, a pistol!

"Damn it, I said we're just robbing, looks like you're asking for death!"

The dirty-haired man pointed the gun at John—

Time seemed to stop, John, not for the first time with a gun pointed at him, was no calm cool handler of guns.

He still remembered his first criminal participation was out of coercion, just like this with a gun pointed at his head, instructing him what to do and what would happen if he failed.

Back then, he was terrified.

Click!

The next moment, people only saw the gun holder flying out, as if his waist had been dislocated!

The assailant wore a black headscarf over his eyes, and even his clothes were black, making him completely unrecognizable!

Lille breathed a sigh of relief when he saw this—

It was a good thing he had enforcers in this world.

Otherwise, he really would have had to fight to the death—Si Anweisitan could surely handle the problem, but it might also cost him his life.

Everyone in the apartment froze, and the thugs, initially invigorated by their leader's gunfire, also stood still. They were all stunned.

"You—you—you—my waist—"

The kicked thug could hardly speak; he couldn't even stand straight and writhed on the ground like a paraplegic.

Lille immediately picked up a brick and smashed it down on him.

Crack.

The brick knocked the guy out cold. Lille just glanced at the one who'd become the Night Demon, Matt, and immediately shouted at the thugs:

"Sit down quietly and wait for our people to tie you up, and if you resist—beat them to death!"

Someone tried to flee, but Anthony, who had just freed himself from an opponent, grabbed the guy's ankle.

The fleeing punk kneeled to the ground, and John, as if waking from a dream, smashed his face with two fists, his knuckles covered in blood.

"Aaaaah!"

He was terrified, so he beat with all his strength, screaming to vent his inner fear.

With their leader lost, the group was headless, and with John's shouting, the gang members dropped the things in their hands and crouched down trembling.

Just as the chaos was settling, Lille wanted to give Night Demon a thumbs up, only to find he had vanished.

Lille clapped his hands: "Alright—watch these people, we'll wait for someone to handle this."

...

"First of all, congratulations on your homeowner's association successfully resisting the zero-dollar purchase."

Some time passed, and Matt, having changed his clothes, arrived late, looking as if nothing had happened.

Had it not been for the script, Lille really wouldn't have recognized that this was the man who almost paralyzed the punk with a kick.

"The real test has just begun," Lille voiced what was on Matt's mind.

One success doesn't count for much, especially in such violent conflicts.

To truly teach people to face injustice, there is a long way to go.

Matt nodded:

"You said what I was thinking—but this really is a big step forward, in fact, there have been several such robberies in the past few months.

Many tenants couldn't stand it and moved out, the homeowners were just as troubled and could only accept the terms of United Construction Company in desperation.

And you, you not only caught these people but also dared to call the police—there were precedents before, but afterwards, the NYPD summoned everyone involved to the station for a statement.

The results... were complicated, but nobody was detained, not even these guys."

Speaking of which, the guy on the ground with a pain-twisted, dirty braided face viciously said, "Yes, I'll be fine, and when I come back later, all of you will be hiding in your homes like rabbits..."

Lille didn't even want to glance at such scum.

This guy thought he was a warrior, looking down on honest workers.

Matt ignored the guy, pulling Lille aside: "In a way, he's not wrong.

The NYPD always acts this way when they come here, saying there is no evidence of self-defense, assuming it's just gang fights in Hell's Kitchen.

Fifty strokes to each.

This behavior only dissolves people's will to defend themselves, what do you plan to do?"

"I have surveillance, they can't ignore the evidence, can they?"

Matt looked at Lille somewhat surprised: "You fixed the surveillance in the apartment? That's good, most of the time surveillance in Hell's Kitchen is offline.

With the surveillance and having caught the criminals, the NYPD has to detain them for a few days."

This old apartment building must be about fifty years old, with messy and smelly wiring, that not even Rigordo could find someone to fix.

"That guy definitely didn't have a gun license, can we get him locked up?" Lille added, watching the dirty-braided black man, "I have footage of him shooting."

"That's even better—but I remember this surveillance..." Matt paused.

Because in his memory, the surveillance was aimed at the main entrance, and the position where the gang member fired shouldn't have been captured.

But now, the surveillance had moved by itself—really magical, because usually, someone must control it for that to happen.

"Anyway... I also have some data, there were two other robberies nearby tonight, I got footage of those as well.

But this data was taken from public cameras... Do you think it's useful? If so, I'll handle it for you."

Matt adjusted his sunglasses: "You've really surprised me a lot, of course, it's useful, public safety cameras always miss what they should capture.

I can go through the process to make this data count, in the long run, this can help prove organized crime is taking place.

You know, some people always try to blur these conflicts as gang wars, but with these videos, the truth will be clearer."

"That's good," Lille paused, "The hard drive is at Mr. Rigordo's."

In 2011, though USB drives were common, they didn't have much capacity and needed a hard drive.

Mr. Rigordo's house did have a computer, used as a surveillance hub—though it was obvious Mr. Rigordo really didn't know how to use it.

Lille added, "Also, don't forget to overturn the case for the man in black. I believe a vigilante's reputation won't be very good.

But we need this guy, especially in public opinion, he must be seen as either advantageous or neutral at the very least."

Matt's hand paused as he took the hard drive: "You think he's a good guy?"

"Nonsense." Lille rolled his eyes, though Matt couldn't see it, "I even think the NYPD should award him a medal. He's stopping criminal activities, I have evidence of that.

Helping each other is a form of heroism; now he's helped us, we need to help him.

If we're afraid even of self-defense and heroism, wouldn't that just encourage crime?"

"Maybe... but the NYPD definitely won't recognize the vigilantism of a masked man, I'll go with you to get the hard drive.

Uh... is there someone else with you?"

Matt sensed something behind Lille—a girl?

Lille turned and saw Skye staring at him with wide eyes.

Skye flashed a professional smile: "Boss, you were really cool just now! Can I stay at your place for a while?"

For some reason, Lille hadn't felt it before, but now he felt like this woman was latching onto him.