"Alright then, it's those Santo Domingo lunatics again, could they be the ones who started this fire?"

"I think it's quite possible. This group of lunatics could do anything. I heard the Voodoo Gang fell into their trap recently, and they died miserably."

"Enough."

An elderly mercenary scolded

"At least they were rescuing people on site, not sitting here with a glass of wine making sarcastic remarks."

The mercenary being accused was embarrassed and angry, smashing his glass on the ground and standing up

"What the hell do you mean? Want to fight?"

The opponent was not backing down either, "Fight then, do you think I'm afraid?"

Bar brawls were common, but once the fight was over, both parties would be thrown out like dogs by security.

Due to the fire, everyone was already in a bad mood, and the tension quickly escalated.

The situation seemed like it could explode into a chaotic brawl at any moment.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A series of knocks on the door was like a bucket of cold water poured on everyone present, calming them down immediately.

The queen of Afterlife, Rogers, was leaning against the door frame. She had just come out of the room and saw the patrons arguing.

However, she wasn't there to lecture them.

"Folks, don't vent your anger here, someone's brought me a few jobs. Anyone interested?"

Everyone was surprised to hear this. What kind of job would Rogers publicly recruit for?

Usually, things like this are chosen by an intermediary in private, not openly bidding in front of everyone.

A regular at Afterlife asked

"Go on, Rogers, don't keep us in suspense. Are you planning to recruit cannon fodder?"

Rogers crossed her arms and looked at everyone

"I'm not revealing the identity of the employer, so let's get straight to the job."

"Someone needs a team of elites to forcibly open the water gate at the Whole Foods factory to release the water into Watson District. They'll provide explosives, set off now, move fast, upfront payment of 10k Euros, and if anyone dies, their family will be taken care of."

"Additionally, Watson District is hiring to help evacuate people and 'maintain order', 500 Euros per person."

The bar fell silent, a few seconds later, a mercenary whistled and said

"Looks like we have a rich client here, can they really afford to pay all these people?"

Ten thousand Euros plus 500 per person commission is no small sum; many small mercenaries die in the streets never earning that much money.

Everyone's interest was piqued upon hearing the figures.

But the mention of blasting open the water gate made them cautious.

This meant the team could face a massive corporate assault; those companies show no mercy when money's involved, especially at critical locations like the gate.

The risk was undeniably high, one could say it's blood money.

"Rogers, why would you pass such a good job to us?"

"Cut the nonsense, are you taking it or not, give me a straightforward answer."

A mercenary raised a doubt

"How do we know it's real or fake?"

From the room behind Rogers, a burly man with a red armband came out, holding a box in each hand, setting them on the bar for everyone to see inside.

"Hiss..."

Upon seeing the boxes full of Euros, many gasped.

They had never seen so much money in their entire lives.

Rogers: "You're not just being sent to die; someone will join you at the site, they're elites, at least that's what they say."

"Sure a philanthropist, since when did Night City get a big benefactor?"

A mercenary leader chuckled and said, "We'll take the job."

Those who drink at Afterlife are basically Night City's most famous mercenaries, even Mann here can only be considered mid-tier.

Rogers glanced at this mercenary team knowingly and tossed a data chip to them.

The mercenaries who caught the chip had bright smiles: "Money or not, doesn't matter, we just want to see how precious the companies' water is, can we dry them out."

"Then you better push harder, the company dogs are a bunch of cold fish."

Rogers watched the team leave and then looked at the others.

"What about you guys, who wants to lend a hand in Watson District?"

A mercenary downed his drink and slammed a bill on the table

"Let's go, brothers, time to play firefighters in Watson District, it's the easiest money we'll ever make."

"It's a whole 500, enough for me to drink all night and pick up a girl on the street, hahaha."

Usually, they'd earn three to four thousand for a delivery, when did a few hundred ever interest them, but this time, they could bend the rules a bit.

Some drunken mercenaries stomped on the table shouting

"Ahahahaha, yeah! Let's see if the companies can stop us from saving lives!"

"Can't believe there'll be a day we play the good guys, hahaha."

Just what Rogers didn't expect was a familiar big guy in the crowd; she couldn't help but call him out

"Weilan, where are you going?"

Weilan with a machine gun turned back smiling

"Blowing up the water gate, how could I miss such an exciting job?"

Rogers grumbled, "You're just like your old man, if you get caught don't sell me out."

"Don't worry, don't worry."

Plenty of mercenaries gathered their gear, hitching rides towards Watson District, while a few stayed sitting at tables, drinking without glancing at the TV again.

And Rogers returned to the private room, looked at Reyes on the sofa, and said

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