Night City—streets empty.
But the race had swept across five districts. Five gangs joined the fight, and somehow all stopped cleanly within their own turf.
Viewership likely covered more than half the city. Millions watched as three mercs tore through Night City, while five gangs slotted themselves into the event like clockwork.
And that Mackinaw pickup—
Honestly, just looking at it, no one would still call it a Mackinaw.
But the graffiti on the legendary Mackinaw still had one thing sprayed loud and clear:
MACKINAW.
After Leo stepped out of the vehicle, his primary consciousness shifted to New York.
The empty streets of Night City instantly turned into a packed Times Square.
News screens were blasting election coverage—the new president about to be announced—
"Recently, the African Union has recognized the legitimacy of Somalia's new government, which differs from the transitional government that has existed for over a decade."
"The new government claims responsibility for an attack on the aircraft carrier Truman, which had entered African coastal waters illegally, resulting in its sinking."
"The U.S. Department of Defense denies this, stating the carrier is currently undergoing maintenance at a military base."
"This incident has influenced a significant number of voters. Predictions suggest voter turnout may reach a historic high."
"According to previous polls, 53.6% of Americans want a strong president, while 44.9% believe the world's leading economy should focus on increasingly intense globalization conflicts—"
"And attempt peaceful resolutions, including the ongoing conflict in Africa involving the African Union."
"As of 18:00, presidential candidate Barnes leads Rodriguez by only 2.2 percentage points (50.2% vs 48%)."
"Both candidates are neck-and-neck in multiple swing states. Public opinion is in a deadlock, and results may begin to emerge in the coming hours."
"If legal disputes reach the Supreme Court, the process may take even longer—"
Public division was severe.
And honestly, that had been the trend in recent elections.
As the economy declined, unemployment rose, and wealth gaps widened, people's thinking split along the same lines.
As Atlas Group's stronghold, New York's political atmosphere was thicker than ever.
Young people and workers flooded the streets in demonstrations—but compared to swing states, the mood here was almost celebratory.
Stark Industries had already announced its headquarters relocation to Houston.
The war profiteers were gone.
That's what they were celebrating.
Leo couldn't help but reflect—
Night City had crowned an underworld emperor.
And here, in the Marvel world—
people were choosing a leader.
He adjusted the blanket over himself.
Right now, he was at home, watching TV.
Most people could vote, sleep, then wake up for results.
He couldn't.
And honestly—
Night City wasn't done yet either.
An emperor still needed a coronation.
"Leo—" his mom set down a pot of hot tea, "pulling an all-nighter?"
Leo nodded. "Watching what Americans actually want."
"That sounds like something an old fox would say." Maya smiled, sitting beside him. "Why do you look so tired?"
Leo shrugged.
He was tired.
Not from staying up—
from fighting.
His body here was in much better condition, but mental fatigue still carried over.
Maya smiled softly, then pulled him into a side hug, swaying slightly.
"I'm proud of you."
Leo scratched his nose, a little embarrassed. "It's not over yet. The election."
"That's not what I mean." Maya looked at the TV.
Most of the time, she didn't fully understand Leo.
Ever since he woke up, he had changed completely—mentally and physically.
She knew about the battles happening in New York.
She even found herself following conflicts overseas.
As an immigrant from Latveria, she didn't see war the way others did—not as some distant board game played on a map.
Fools thought war was like that.
And that they'd always win.
Reality was—
humans were fragile in the face of each other's malice.
And malice spread.
It infected.
Leo—
was someone who could become the direct target of that malice at any time.
But raising a child was like this.
If you were lucky, they'd walk your path, become someone like you, and go further in pursuit of happiness.
If you weren't—
you had to learn to let go while worrying.
Maya drifted into memory.
"You're just like your father. Never complains. Always full of energy. Always trying to make things better."
Leo said nothing.
He had never met this version of his father.
But in his past life—
his father had been the same.
And his mother had said the same words.
Sometimes, the two lives blurred together.
After watching the TV for a bit, Leo suddenly spoke:
"You're why I work this hard. I want the people who love me—and the people I love—to live happily in this world."
Maya rubbed her eyes, getting sleepy, smiling faintly.
"You really are just like your father… but save lines like that for the girl you like. And don't stutter like he did…"
As she spoke—
she fell asleep.
Leo looked at the TV, then prepared to switch his consciousness back to Night City.
The election was out of his hands now.
But Night City—
still needed him to finish things.
[Switch primary consciousness?]
[Cost: 100 points/hour]
[Switching.]
The three mercs walked into the Afterlife.
Rogue leaned against the bar, drink in one hand, the other raised in welcome.
"So—what kind of music you into? Tonight's special. Even if you want some ancient disco trash, I'll have the system play it."
Back on this side, Leo immediately felt the pain hit.
Yeah.
Home was better.
"Sound system's nice, but live music would be better," Leo said as he sat down with Jackie and V, dropping Muramasa under the counter with a thud. "Like getting Kerry Eurodyne in here."
Rogue glanced at Muramasa on the floor, her look meaningful—but she didn't ask.
"Hah. Should've said that earlier—he might've shown. Too late now. What're you drinking?"
Leo cut in before Jackie or V could speak.
"Two cans of motor oil. Also—tell the crowd outside to come in one at a time. Run me a line—I need to process this thing."
Then he looked at Jackie and V.
"Medical priority. Tune your chrome first. Drinks later."
Both of them looked like they were dying inside—but still complied, slumped over the bar, holding their heads, waiting for instructions.
"Already prepped it for you," Rogue said. "I'll deal with the people outside—don't keep them waiting too long."
She headed for the door.
Leo pulled a cable from behind the bar and jacked it into his neural interface.
First step—
interrogate Muramasa.
Intel was worth eddies.
"Hey, Leo!" V suddenly waved a hand in front of him. "There are people outside? What are you planning?"
Leo glanced at her.
"Thinking stuff. Not your department. Just wait. Open your interface."
While they weren't paying attention, Jackie muttered quietly, watching Rogue's back:
"Does this count as Rogue being our manager now…"
Then he raised his voice to stop V—who looked ready to throw hands with Leo—
"V! You know what kind of legends Rogue's got under her belt?"
"I don't care!"