Water!

So much water!

In the city surrounded by flames, manhole covers on the street were blown open one after another by surging water, shooting up small fountains over a meter high.

Countless streams of water soaked the ground cracked by intense heat, bringing a hint of coolness to the world with rising temperatures.

This sudden change left everyone on site momentarily stunned, but the players were the first to react, with Sword Saint kicking a dazed firefighter.

"Don't just stand there, get the hose connected and start putting out the fire!"

The firefighter was a bit flustered too, should he connect or not?

Clearly, someone had turned the water plant's pressure pump and nodes to maximum; he didn't think the companies would do such a thing.

This loss was at least in the millions, and if he got involved and was held accountable, he'd lose his head.

Seeing the firefighter's panicked expression, Sword Saint cursed him as useless.

He directly went up, opened the truck door, pulled out the hose, connected it to a hydrant, and turned the valve.

The next second, the firefighting water they had awaited for nearly an hour finally gushed out.

Members of the Tiger Claw Gang and Vortex Gang also followed the players' lead, using hoses and pipes if available, or buckets and basins to scoop and pour if not. The players were also organizing manpower to purchase from hardware stores or firefighting equipment markets in other districts.

In such a situation, price gouging was inevitable, but many wanted to make a fortune from this fire disaster.

However, they seemed to have miscalculated their negotiating counterparts.

Some people, from the day they arrived in this world, would never follow local rules obediently.

Nor would they have the slightest fear for the old societal rules and ruling classes of this world.

And they certainly wouldn't surrender to the threat of death.

"How much for a fire extinguisher?"

Wildman, standing on a coiled fire hose, curiously looked at the market manager.

"150 Euros, sir."

The market manager stood behind the counter, his tone still formally respectful, but his face bore an expression as if he had a firm hold on the man in front of him, as if saying take it or leave it.

"150?" Wildman pointed at the labels on the shelves and the prices on the digital screens.

"It says 15 Euros here."

"That was before; prices have risen now. I'm going to arrange for the tags to be replaced shortly."

The firefighting equipment market had deep collaborations with Night City's municipal fire company, so it was impossible for a fire to be controlled under these circumstances.

"Price hike... haha..."

Wildman was almost laughing from anger. He finally understood why traders in old Shanghai dared to stroke the tiger's whiskers.

This was all about money, not life.

"Is your fire extinguisher made of gold or is the hose made of gold? Do you even know how many people in the Watson District are waiting for these things to save their lives?"

Seeing the atmosphere turning tense, the manager signaled the clerk behind him, who immediately understood and walked out of the store as several automatic guns descended from the ceiling.

"What's the Watson District got to do with me? We didn't start the fire. Don't get riled up; these prices are the same across the market. You'll find the same in any other store."

The manager's confidence lay in the fact that the entire industry was his backing, and everyone was in the same business, so raising prices in times like this was the norm.

Soon, the entrance gathered other shop owners and their employees from the equipment market, all looking unfriendly at the Wildman squad inside, who came for urgent material supplies, most holding guns.

Not to mention the several automatic guns mounted in the store and the market building's ceiling.

Without some firepower in Night City, you can't really get by here.

The market manager crossed his arms, looking at the three: "Buying or not? If not, then get lost!"

Wildman was both angry and amused now.

Having been in Night City for a month or two, it was the first time he saw its true colors.

In some games, players actually choose to take the evil path to gain profits far exceeding those on the righteous path.

For instance, joining the Sword Hilt tribe, aligning with comrades, professing love, poisoning into madness, a seamless combo of abduction and combat.

Victoria was all for near-kin reproduction for leadership, going to any lengths just for claims.

The Steel Thread ignored people's plights, maxing out tax rates.

Starfall Crime Corporation's Golem Dragon expansion, opening branches everywhere to nauseate people.

Being the King of the Great West in the novel, it was all about killing.

All this was founded on them not excessively projecting personal feelings into the games.

Their view was elevated to perceive all dead as mere numbers, not burdening them psychologically from civilian deaths, nor were any players excessively punished for taking the evil path.

However, if they truly immersed in a game and genuinely assumed the role within, considering themselves truly as people inside it, or like now, when they represent themselves.

Being a good person doesn't mean taking a loss.

Keep the cost of being a good person within players' acceptable psychological expectations, with enough fulfillment and reward.

Then, most players who underwent normal moral education would still be happy to be a good person.

Even, they would not hesitate to eliminate any who attempted to obstruct their path of righteousness.

"Hehehehe."

"Ahahahaha!!!"

Wildman and the two giants looked at the merchants and their goons around, who wanted to profiteer, all donning Uchiha manic grins.

Under the puzzled gaze of those around them

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