Click, click.
The sound of cracking sunflower seeds accompanied Chen Mo's nonchalant comment.
But no one had time to reply to him.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the culture tanks hanging in mid-air, and even their breaths seemed to stop for a moment.
Under the cold, eerie blue light, rows of mutilated human bodies were immersed in bubbly green nutrient solution.
Their limbs were cut off at the root, their chests were wide open, exposing their beating hearts and large blood vessels connected to a dense network of transparent tubes.
Those tubes pulsated in rhythm with the heartbeat, continuously pumping a certain chemical agent into the body.
What's most chilling is that these people are still alive.
Their eyes were half-open unconsciously, the whites of their eyes rolled upwards, and large breathing tubes were inserted into their mouths. The muscles in their faces twitched violently from time to time due to pain.
Suddenly, a muffled sound of mechanical gears meshing came from deep within the warehouse.
The assembly line started automatically after emitting an alarm, and the exposed black engine roared loudly, making the ground tremble slightly.
Several enormous, heavy-duty mechanical claws descended from the ceiling and precisely locked onto a culture tank whose indicator lights had turned "mature".
With a snap, the mechanical claw gripped the can tightly, roughly lifted it, and moved it directly above a giant meat grinder covered in dark red blood scum.
The hatch at the bottom of the tank opened automatically, and several mangled bodies, mixed with viscous nutrient solution, were dumped into the funnel like worthless garbage.
Below the meat grinder was a black object piled up like a small mountain.
Those were thousands upon thousands of enormous, mutated cockroaches wriggling in the sewage, their antennae and carapaces huddled together, making a chilling rustling sound.
As the sharp alloy blades of the meat grinder spun wildly, the piercing sounds of bones cracking and muscles tearing echoed through the empty warehouse.
Human flesh and blood were ruthlessly mixed together with the exoskeleton of mutated cockroaches, then squeezed and shaped under high pressure and high temperature on the tracks by a hydraulic press.
A few seconds later, square, grayish-white "synthetic nutrient paste" pieces fell out from the end of the production line and neatly landed in the waiting metal packaging boxes below.
Meanwhile, on the other side, a more sophisticated robotic arm wielded a high-speed miniature chainsaw, precisely slicing open the skulls that had been stripped of their flesh and bones.
The intact brain was carefully separated by mechanical tweezers and quickly placed into small containers filled with a transparent preservative liquid, which were then transported to an unknown location via another hidden conveyor belt.
The warehouse remained deathly silent for a good ten seconds.
Then, several of the Joker Gang suddenly realized what was happening, and their terrified, desperate screams shattered the brief peace.
"Aaaaaaah!"
"Fuck you! What the hell is this?!"
"It can't be real... Tell me this can't be true!"
They suddenly realized that the whole-food nutrition blocks that everyone usually uses to barely fill their stomachs or even cherishes like a life-saving treasure are actually made from what ingredients—even cockroaches?
This morning, they shared over a dozen boxes of stored nutritional paste at the base to celebrate.
An overwhelming, uncontrollable wave of nausea surged up to the top of my head.
"Vomit--"
One of the most valiant members of the gang suddenly collapsed, kneeling in the mud outside the warehouse and retching violently.
Like Domino falling, more than a dozen of the Joker Gang knelt down one after another, not even bothering to pick up their weapons.
Many people felt a churning in their stomachs as acidic gastric juices mixed with undigested remnants of synthetic meat gushed out.
Some people, with tears and snot streaming down their faces, stuck their fingers deep into their mouths and desperately tried to pierce their throats.
He tried to vomit up every single bite of synthetic meat he had ever eaten in his life.
But it was all in vain; that nauseating stench seemed to have long been ingrained in their genes.
V gritted his teeth, forcing back the acid reflux rising in his throat, and refused to spit it out.
But her eyes were already red with anger, and the bloodshot veins of fury almost covered the entire whites of her eyes.
Her stomach was churning violently, but the overwhelming anger was like an inextinguishable fire, completely burning away her last remaining rationality.
The Maelstrom Gang actually treated the living people in the outer areas like pigs for meat, and then sold the meat to people who were also struggling at the bottom of society.
"You scum of the Maelstrom Gang... I curse your ancestors for eighteen generations!"
V roared hysterically and kicked away an empty metal can blocking his way.
She picked up her two pistols, clicked the magazines, and turned to rush towards the factory lobby.
"I'm going to kill them all! I'll chop up every last vestige of the Maelstrom Gang in this crappy factory and feed them to the dogs!"
Chen Mo remained casually leaning against the doorframe, coldly observing this utterly out-of-control breakdown.
He cracked open another sunflower seed and casually spat the shell into the puddle at his feet.
"What was that saying again? Welcome to Night City."
The Joker stood motionless in front of the warehouse, as if all his strength had been drained.
The stark, cold light shone on his face, which was covered in paint, making him look like a ridiculous, comical Joker puppet.
He didn't scream like the others, nor did he gag; he just stared intently at the mutilated living people being used as protein extraction machines.
Watching the nutrient paste, mixed with blood and cockroach shell fragments, fall into the packaging box.
Something in my mind, accompanied by the roaring mechanical sounds, emitted a crisp cracking sound.
That was a belief he had always carefully upheld and held as his guiding principle.
Those unrealistic fantasies of a mild uprising, those fairy tales that tried to awaken the city, were utterly shattered at this moment.
He once naively believed that tycoons were just selfish, gangs were just greedy, and the lower classes simply lacked a guide.
He once thought that as long as everyone could have enough to eat, and as long as the networks that monitored them were cut off, the people of Night City could slowly regain their dignity.
But now he understands.
In this utterly ruined wasteland, ordinary people aren't even considered human; they're just raw materials that can be readily fed into the assembly line at any time, with clearly marked prices.
Seizing a few insignificant data centers and making a few feeble cries won't save anyone.
As long as this man-eating machine keeps running, there will always be another batch of people hanging in the jars.
To end this evil, the rule-makers and this very land must be burned to ashes.
Just as V, her eyes red, was about to rush past him...
Suddenly, the Joker reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Let me go!"
V struggled violently, the muzzle of the gun trembling slightly, tears mingling with raindrops and falling to the ground.
"Don't stop me, I'm going to kill them!"
The Joker didn't let go; his strength was extraordinary, almost leaving a deep bruise on V's arm.
He stopped V, who was about to kill someone, and took a deep breath of the air, which was filled with the smell of engine oil and blood.
The shoulder, which had been trembling uncontrollably from Morok's heavy blow, miraculously began to calm down at this moment.
He turned his head and looked at the hellish scene before him, filled with wails and dismembered limbs.
His expression was calmer than ever before, a coldness born from the complete abandonment of weakness.
The Joker was filled with determination: this world must be changed!