"Familiar place—we're back again."
Roqi stretched, yawning.
As he spoke, he casually tossed the corpse in his hand against the wall like a bag of garbage.
The pedestrians on the street kept their distance, and up ahead, two gaudily dressed gang members were fleeing.
"Seriously? This is what we call a riot control operation? What the hell does NCPD even do?"
He kicked a body out of the way, removed his external optical visor, and stripped off the heavy riot squad armor.
The moment he got the deployment order from HQ, Roqi had rushed over.
At the scene: five or six tweaked-out punks, some other gang members, and a few corpses.
Some idiots got high and started a firefight, injuring some innocent bystanders. Just another day in Night City.
Normally, the NCPD could handle this kind of thing.
But one of the gangsters had lit up a canister of CHOOH2—a biofuel co-developed by Biotechnica and PetroChem. High energy yield, extremely toxic.
It was like drinking paint thinner: one whiff too many, and you're either dead or done for.
When Roqi saw all the twitching or unmoving bodies on the ground, he muttered, "Damn."
He had to take that back—riot squads weren't just for cyberpsychos. Anything that seriously endangered public safety fell under their jurisdiction.
High threat to civilians, low combat capability.
That pretty much summed up the crazies like this.
And these cases were the worst to handle—no skill needed, high risk of collateral damage.
Collateral damage? In riot squad terms, that was just standard procedure.
As unofficial members of the squad, Roqi and Mower didn't have access to boats or armored vehicles.
Those were for the main combat units and in short supply.
Standard armored cars or off-road vehicles didn't help much in riot operations.
So Melissa had arranged for them two motorcycles.
Yes. Motorcycles.
Specifically, the "Tarrant" heavy police motorcycle, jointly produced by ARCH (makers of the famous Nazare) and Militech.
No rear seat—replaced by modular external storage boxes. The front was reinforced with bulletproof composite glass, and the whole body was armored.
318 horsepower.
The ARCH Nazare had 170 horsepower. Jackie had a red-black model.
The Kusanagi CT-3X by YAIBA, a favorite among gangsters, had 183 horsepower.
Of course, horsepower doesn't equal speed.
In straight-line sprints, the lighter Kusanagi was still faster than the Tarrant.
But the Tarrant was a tank.
If the Kusanagi was a sports bike, the Tarrant was a bulletproof off-roader.
Even high-performance racing bikes rarely broke the 300-horsepower mark.
Riot squad? Yeah, they went big.
Brutal machines, just like their owners.
Makigai was a Japanese manufacturer known for cheap compact cars, much like Mahir Motors from India.
Mahir made cheap vans that could unload a whole Indian battalion.
Makigai had the infamous Maimai P126—a toy-like plastic car barely big enough for two skinny people.
It flipped over in strong winds and speeds above 96 km/h. It had a laughable 126 horsepower.
If Roqi rammed into a Maimai on the Tarrant without braking, the Maimai would go flying.
So yeah, the Tarrant's power stood out.
And it didn't stop there—
You could request mounted weapons: heavy machine guns, mini missile pods, EMP launchers, flamethrowers, whatever.
Hell, you could even swap in a bigger engine to push horsepower near 400, though it'd make the ride harder to control.
When Roqi learned all this, he was just left speechless.
You never knew what twisted directions future tech might go.
By 2077, humanity still hadn't solved cheap medicine—but they were already colonizing the solar system.
Of course, by "medicine," we mean stuff the masses could afford. The rich? Health care was never a problem.
Just look at Trauma Team's platinum membership fees—and that's just for joining. All treatments came extra.
Thinking about all the work ahead, and having to waste time on doped-up lunatics, made Roqi fume.
At least the area was cleared now.
He reported in to HQ, dropped a coordinate pin, and had the bike's onboard AI auto-park it.
Right next to Afterlife. What a coincidence.
Seeing the two parked riot squad bikes and Roqi and Mower walking into Afterlife, the loitering crowd seemed to get the picture.
"Long time no see."
Roqi waved at Emeric, still standing by the door.
"She's waiting for you inside," Emeric said, straight to the point.
As the doors opened, the muffled club music exploded into full volume.
Boom-boom-boom—
The bassline hit like a heartbeat, pulling your emotions with it.
This was Afterlife—not just a place to do business, but a full-blown underground club.
But Roqi wasn't here to party. He had an appointment with Rogue.
After a quick hello to Claire, the bartender, Roqi and Mower went straight into the private room.
"Oh? Quite the crowd today."
Roqi blinked as multiple pairs of eyes turned toward him.
Rogue still had her trademark attitude. Armadillo was still stone-faced. Rogue's crew, whom Roqi had met before, quietly played the role of muscle.
Out of five people at the table, Roqi recognized three.
"Dallas, Chance, and Dragan."
He greeted them with smiles, fist bumps all around.
"Let me introduce the rest," Dallas said warmly. "They're part of PDG. Been with us for years."
"Rust and Sydney."
Roqi turned to look.
Rust was an old man with white hair, slightly hunched and thin, but with sharp eyes—energy that didn't match his age.
Looked deadly.
Roqi remembered seeing him leaving Afterlife the other day.
It was hard to picture someone this old in high-intensity merc work.
"Rust is a badass. Underestimate him and you'll regret it," Chance joked.
Rust simply nodded at Roqi and Mower, then said nothing.
Next was Sydney.
The firepower specialist.
She had a wild blue-purple mohawk and the attitude of someone who'd fight a tank with a knife.
"Damn, she looks intense," Roqi thought.
She carried massive amounts of ammo and explosives, sending enemies straight to hell.
Ironically, she also handcrafted PDG's iconic masks.
A feral heart, delicate touch.
Dallas, Chance, and Rust were from the U.S., Dragan from Croatia, Sydney from Australia. They were once strangers, now one team.
"PDG's a family. No matter where we're from, we're siblings here."
Dallas smiled. "Interested in joining us?"
Roqi felt flattered, but then came the regret.
"Sorry, I'm with the riot squad now."
The room went dead silent.
Four members froze. Only Rust stayed chill.
Dragan nearly jumped from his seat, hand reaching for his gun.
Not because he didn't trust Roqi, but because betrayal was common in this line of work.
And as a former Croatian cop, Dragan's instincts were sharp.
"Whoa, whoa, relax!"
Dallas stopped him. "I trust Rogue—she brought him here."
Plus, no badge, no armor, no gun—what kind of cop shows up like this?
"Yes, Rogue sent me. She said you needed backup."
"How can you help us?" Dragan asked, calming down.
Maybe it was the stress, the sleeplessness.
"My advice? Keep the firefight below riot squad trigger levels."
"If riot control shows up, we're screwed."
"One: we can't beat them. Scorpitails aren't scouts. One of those can wipe us all out."
That was for operations in the Badlands.
Five PDG members, twenty of Rogue's crew—even with some AA missiles, they'd get smoked by an armored gunboat.
"Two: we are the riot squad. If the alarm goes off, we'll be assigned to eliminate you."
Think 'priority delivery.' That's how awkward things could get.
"So, we do it Rogue's way."
Roqi pulled up the plan Rogue had sent, pointing at the map.
"Disguise as Tyger Claws, hit the corp convoy, kill everyone, and call it in."
"Meanwhile, we draw the real Tyger Claws to the scene. I'll make sure they're the mission target."
"Then both corp and riot forces will go after them—not you."
It might not be perfect, but it was solid. Roqi's idea, as a riot squad insider, was reliable.
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🤖💘 MY GIRLFRIEND'S A CYBERPSYCHO—WHO KNEW? 💘🤖
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📢 LOVE MEETS CYBERPSYCHOSIS! 📢
My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew? has 100+ chapters ahead available on Patreon! 💘💥
Romance is already complicated.
Now add:
🌃 Night City
🦾 Cyberware
🔫 Gunfights
💀 Cyberpsychosis
💥 Property damage
❤️ And a girlfriend who might snap at any moment
Love hurts.
In this case, it might also come with bullets, broken walls, and emergency trauma care.
Don't wait for the madness — read ahead now on Patreon!
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🛑 ALSO AVAILABLE ON PATREON:
🌃 Cyberpunk: Dogtown Legend
🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
👩👦 Cyberpunk: Lucy Adopted Me and I Got a System
🧠 My Cyberpunk 2077 Simulator
🛡️ Star Wars: The Rise of Mandalore
🌌 Star Wars: Relics of the Past
🏰 Game of Thrones: Secrets Beneath the Dreadfort
⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
🌹 R18: Reincarnated in Her World
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