Feeling the growing pressure from the Trauma Team and the enemy's coordinated assault, Nathan Hawk decided to unleash a fraction of the Jenova cells within his body.
With a deep, guttural roar, the cells surged to life. A golden aura erupted around him, forming a shimmering energy shield that made him nearly invincible—like an immortal war god standing amidst chaos.
The remaining Trauma Team units, alongside ZetaTech's Atlas hovercraft, launched an even fiercer offensive. Streams of KangTao G-58 bullets tore through the air, raining down in disciplined bursts in an attempt to overwhelm him.
Nathan Hawk dodged effortlessly, deflecting attacks with telekinesis and raw physical might. Each strike of his fists sent enemies flying. His movements were swift and precise, like a predator weaving through the battlefield, shattering their formations one by one.
Panic spread among the Trauma Team operatives and ZetaTech pilots. They had no idea how to counter such an unstoppable opponent. As Hawk advanced, their resistance crumbled.
His eyes were cold and merciless. He slaughtered each foe without hesitation or compassion.
I silently counted the number of medics on the field."Isn't this different from the game? Maybe it's because they're VIP-tier members?"
The surviving Trauma Team soldiers were now gripped by terror and despair. They realized they weren't facing a man—but a monster wrapped in light, impervious to harm. Their attacks were useless, only making him more enraged.
"This… this isn't possible! What kind of monster is he?!" one of them screamed.
Nathan ignored the cries. His expression remained blank, his eyes hollow except for the flicker of killing intent. He knew that to protect his secret, none of them could be allowed to live.
As the fight continued, his speed and strength increased exponentially. The Trauma Team members were crushed one after another, collapsing under his assault.
Even the ZetaTech Atlas hovercraft was no match. Nathan used his telekinesis to seize it midair, twist its structure, and slam it violently to the ground—reducing it to scrap metal.
Bored with the slaughter, he gazed at the wounded medics writhing on the ground. Raising his hand, he clenched his fist tightly as golden light flared from his palm—the power of the Jenova cells fused with his psychic energy.
"If time weren't so short," he said coldly, "I might've played with you a little longer."
He thrust his hand forward and then clenched it again.
Instantly, the battlefield was engulfed in a chaotic vortex of energy. A devastating shockwave burst outward, tearing through everything in its path.
The Trauma Team operatives screamed in terror, trying to flee—but it was too late. The wave consumed them completely.
In an instant, the entire field erupted. Every member of the Trauma Team was annihilated—bodies shredded into fragments of blood and flesh. No one survived. Nathan Hawk's telekinetic ultimate ability had erased them all.
Silence fell. Only Nathan remained standing amidst the carnage, still wrapped in his golden shield. His face was expressionless, indifferent—as if the massacre had been nothing more than a game.
Hearing distant helicopter blades, he muttered softly,"The NCPD has noticed this place. Time to relocate."
When NCPD officers and another Trauma Team unit cautiously entered what was once the battlefield, they found nothing. Not even a trace.
Dexter DeShawn was restless. He had just received a shocking report—an entire Trauma Team unit in Kabuki had been wiped out, and the bodies were missing. Only two mutilated corpses had been found in a wrecked Atlas hovercraft. But strangely, there were no signs of electrocution this time.
Still, Dexter's gut told him this was the work of those tigers.
Moments later, a message from his informants made his blood run cold.
"David James is missing. Trauma Team responded but were wiped out. James was part of the Militech construction team. It looks like those people are dead serious about this."
Dexter shivered. A dreadful realization struck him—if those people were capable of that, they could easily come for him.
As one of Night City's most well-known fixers, he had thought about meeting them once—but only in theory. Never for real.
Rumors spread like wildfire as the night deepened.
Dexter looked at his bodyguard, Oleg, and said, "Keep your eyes open. Hire more people. I want you to test the strength of these mercs."
"Yes, sir," Oleg replied, turning toward the door.
But as soon as he opened it—he froze.
Dexter's eyes widened. He knew danger was here. He reached for the panic button under his desk—
"Don't be so scared, Dexter DeShawn."
Before he could react, Oleg collapsed to the floor. A man in a suit walked calmly into the room.
"Are you alone?" Dexter asked, forcing his voice to stay steady.
"I have business with you," Nathan Hawk replied, sitting across from him.
"You and your crew have stirred up the streets. The Maelstrom, the Netrunners, Trauma Team—even mercs and bounty hunters are talking about you," Dexter said coolly.
Nathan cut straight to the point. "My original goal was Militech tech. But after wiping out that Trauma Team, I realized why I couldn't seize their systems or any of the corporate data in the City Center."
He smirked. "It's because I don't have enough people."
Snapping his fingers, Nathan pointed directly at Dexter.
"Now you'll work for me. I'm going to take control of the tech from most corporations in Night City."
Dexter wanted to laugh at the arrogance—but when he saw Nathan's expression, the laughter died in his throat.
Then everything in the room—no, everything on the entire floor, including Dexter himself—began to float.
A voice echoed in his mind:
"You can think of my power as… divine."
Dexter stared in horror as Nathan hovered in midair before him, surrounded by crackling golden energy.
"I've already sent a strike team to attack Corporate Plaza. I need you to spread misinformation and hire mercenaries to raid nearby supply zones—to draw their attention away."
"And in return…"
Nathan slowly descended, the psychic energy fading as Wesker entered the room.
Before Dexter could respond, Wesker's arm morphed into a tentacle-like appendage that shot forward and impaled him.
"The virus in Wesker's body will enhance your strength and endurance," Nathan said calmly.
Thirty minutes later, Dexter lay drenched in sweat on the floor—but when he stood, his obese frame was gone, replaced by a muscular, chiseled body.
"I can't believe it," he gasped, flexing. "I look like I joined the Animals gang."
"Your strength has increased dramatically," Wesker said. "Even Trauma Team weapons won't pierce you now."
Dexter was thrilled—but also wary. He knew he couldn't refuse these two monsters.
Nathan smirked. "Call me boss. I'll be here a few days. Handle things with Wesker—recruit more subordinates, and contact Sengoku Lingma. Find a way to get me corporate tech."
"Yes, boss," Dexter replied with a forced smile.
He was still in shock.
Later, inside an old Watson industrial facility, Dexter saw terrifying things—mutated creatures that looked human but weren't, and others that clearly were human but moved like puppets under control.
A thought crept into his mind—am I being controlled too?
Wesker said coldly, "You carry my virus. I could control you, but I don't need to. Just work hard for now."
Dexter shuddered. No cold sweat, he told himself—but he knew fear when he felt it.
"Your body is merging with the virus. You'll soon understand its potential. The strain inside you isn't like the others—it's more refined."
That eased Dexter's nerves slightly. At least his new suit still fit—and it was expensive.
"Alright. I'll prepare the strike. This time, we'll finish the job," he said, forcing determination into his voice.
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