Chapter 149: Are You Kidding Me?
"Gail Gibbs? President of the Night City Division of Military Technology, if I remember correctly."
"That's right, it's me, Mr. Peter. What happened this time was a complete misunderstanding—entirely the fault of my subordinates," Gail Gibbs replied shamelessly, not even flinching under Peter's cold gaze.
Peter didn't waste time with pleasantries.
"Bring me Brandon. And that middleman—bring him too."
As soon as the words left Peter's mouth, Brandon's face turned pale with panic.
"Pe—"
Before he could even utter Peter's name, a soldier standing behind him—Stott—kicked him in the back, cutting him off. Two guards quickly stepped in to gag him, preventing further speech.
Moments later, two more soldiers arrived, dragging in a tightly bound Faraday.
"Mr. Peter," Gail Gibbs began, gesturing at the restrained men, "this is Brandon, our Night City branch's security director. The incident you were involved in was orchestrated by him and one of our scientists."
"The scientist died earlier today at the military base, and as for Brandon… well, he was trying to convince me to continue opposing you, Mr. Peter. I had no knowledge of any of this until recently."
Gail tried his best to explain, his words tumbling out quickly in an attempt to sound sincere.
Peter's face remained expressionless.
"Do you think I look like a fool?" he asked quietly, voice like steel beneath silk.
Gail paused, then attempted to pivot.
"If you're not satisfied with our current approach, Mr. Peter, we can always renegotiate."
He could sense the storm brewing in Peter's demeanor. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. But he also knew Peter wasn't the kind of man who let things slide.
"I'm willing to offer another 300 million euros as a formal apology from Military Technology. Consider it compensation for the inconvenience."
Gail Gibbs gritted his teeth as he said it. It wasn't a small amount—one percent of his entire net worth. Even though he was one of the three top executives in Military Technology, this level of liquid capital wasn't easy to muster.
Sure, he had countless mansions worldwide and a luxury car collection that spanned continents, but cash was always tied up in assets or stocks. And of course, most of his real wealth came from the power and shares he held within the company.
From his perspective, someone like Peter—a mercenary, no matter how powerful—could never hope to earn this much in a lifetime. Even if Peter completed missions 24/7, accepting every contract from petty theft to high-profile assassinations, it would still be nearly impossible to accumulate this sum.
"Tsk tsk… 300 million euros," Mann muttered, eyes wide as he stood behind Peter. "He really is one of the three top dogs at Military Technology. Guy's got money coming out of his ears."
"If we had to earn that through mercenary missions, we'd be old and gray before we even hit a tenth of it," another soldier added, visibly stunned.
Even a third-world country's GDP over fifty years wouldn't match that number, some thought silently.
---
Meanwhile, across Night City...
"Good evening, Night City! I'm your favorite host, Stanley!"
Stanley's signature energetic voice filled the airwaves.
"Unless you've been living under a rock, you must've seen that massive mushroom cloud to the north earlier today!"
"Well, folks, that explosion took place at a military base just outside Night City! That's right—built by none other than our very own Military Technology!"
"This marks the closest nuclear-level detonation to Night City since Johnny Silverhand blew up the Arasaka Tower fifty years ago!"
"And you'll never believe this—but according to my sources, the ones responsible weren't a corporation, weren't a terrorist cell—just a group of mercenaries!"
"That's right, mercenaries!"
"And get this—we've just received confirmation that this very same group is currently negotiating with none other than Gail Gibbs, one of the three top executives of Military Technology, right outside their main HQ!"
"We'll keep you updated as the story develops."
"Oh—and one last piece of advice for all you investors out there—if you're still holding onto Military Technology stock, now's the time to sell!"
"You're welcome!"
The news spread like wildfire. That kind of headline would normally dominate Night City for weeks—but this time, it was fueled even faster.
Ling Xiaohan, seated in her high-rise office in Kang Tao headquarters, had anticipated everything. She'd already bought out the TV station and given orders to air the footage in an endless loop, carefully editing Peter's name out of the report.
Even if Xu Shiming hadn't instructed her, she would have done it anyway.
Any chance to deal a blow to Military Technology—she wouldn't miss it for the world.
At the same time, board members in various factions saw opportunity in the chaos. Araba Lai Xuan, once an ally to Military Technology, quietly began considering how best to exploit this turn of events. Weakening the competition was too tempting.
---
Back to Peter...
"Well?" Gail Gibbs asked, smiling nervously. "Mr. Peter, as long as you nod, the 300 million euros will be transferred immediately. I'll also hand over both the traitor and the middleman to you…"
Peter stroked his chin as if considering the offer.
"It's tempting," he said, his voice calm. "But I don't think you're showing enough sincerity, Mr. Gibbs."
Gail's eyes widened, and before Peter could say another word, he snapped.
"Understood! I'll transfer the full amount to your account right now!"
Without waiting for a reply, Gail activated his terminal and initiated the transfer. Within seconds, Peter's account balance lit up with nine zeroes.
For most people, moving that amount would require months of banking approvals. But Gail Gibbs was no ordinary man. The banks dared not delay. They knew the consequences of keeping a man like him waiting—rumors swirled of executives disappearing, entire families vanishing without a trace.
Peter glanced at the glowing number on his screen and gave a satisfied nod.
---
From her office window, Ling Xiaohan's expression shifted as she watched the transaction complete.
If Peter accepted the money and chose to align with Military Technology, then Kang Tao's victory—worth over 100 billion euros in sabotage—would mean nothing.
Peter's value couldn't be measured in money.
"I didn't expect the president of Military Technology to be so generous," Peter said, turning to Mann. "Three hundred million euros, just to 'transport' a convoy. Not a bad haul."
Mann chuckled. "Damn right! We hit the jackpot, boss."
"Peter! You're buying drinks tonight!" another soldier shouted, laughing.
But Gail Gibbs, still present, heard their conversation—and the smile dropped from his face.
The realization hit like a freight train.
He had been played.
"You son of a… Peter! You're f***ing kidding me!" he roared.
Peter's amused smile disappeared instantly. His eyes turned icy, his voice robotic.
"President Gibbs," he said coldly. "When did I ever say I was reconciling with you?"
He stepped forward slowly.
"Wasn't that money simply a commission payment from Military Technology—for services rendered?"
Gail Gibbs opened his mouth to respond but couldn't find the words.
The room grew silent, the tension thick enough to choke on.
Peter didn't need to say anything more. The look in his eyes told everyone present: this was far from over.