"So the plan is just to finish off the ones who flee?"
Dorio had met up with the Valentinos she'd be temporarily leading at one of the crossroads most likely to be taken by the Animals when they fled the facility to return to Night City.
There were twenty Valentinos—more than enough to handle this clash, considering that Dorio only needed to hunt down the leftovers Faelan allowed to escape.
Although, to be honest, Dorio preferred to personally take out all the Animals while the Valentinos just blocked their escape.
At the moment, the representative of the Valentinos was confirming the details with Dorio, a guy named Julián.
"Yes," Dorio said, checking her weapon as she replied. "No Animal goes back to the city alive today. As for vehicles, implants, weapons, or whatever they've got, it's all yours."
Julián frowned. The way she said it made it sound like she saw them as scavengers. But remembering what Father had said—and seeing the obvious mood Dorio was in—he decided to be generous and say nothing.
Besides, it was true. He wasn't going to turn down some loot.
Maybe the implants wouldn't be usable—since the hormonal "juice" the Animals took often corrupted several connections and functions—but the weapons and transport were another story.
Dorio paused as she got a call from Faelan.
[They're on their way.]
[How many are left?]
[Not many. I think I scared them a little when I turned one of them into a pig.]
Dorio blinked, taking a moment to process that line.
[…Are you speaking metaphorically or…?]
[Hmm? Oh no, I literally turned a guy into a pig.]
Dorio looked out at the horizon, waiting for the dust cloud that would announce the start of the hunt.
[What are you planning to do with the pig?]
[Well, remember the homeless soup kitchen on Marklin Street?]
Dorio almost dropped her weapon.
[Are you serious?!]
[Yeah, it might be a little morally questionable…]
But the transformation was irreversible, and Faelan didn't want to keep the pig. He had to do something with it, right?
[Only might?]
[Hey, you know just as well as I do—those homeless folks have eaten worse! This is pork, one hundred percent organic and additive-free.]
He wasn't lying. In fact, most people in the city ate worse than actual pork.
Dorio was about to reply, but then remembered she'd never see her Fluffy again…
She clenched her teeth.
[I don't think one pig is enough for that many people. How about we pay a visit to the Animals' base later and "restock" the soup kitchen?]
[Exactly my idea! I need to have a word with their Alpha anyway—I've got a hunch who's behind this.]
[Good. I can see the fugitives' dust cloud now. Once I finish with them and send the Valentinos off, I'll come pick you up.]
[I'll let the others know to get ready in the meantime. We'll need some backup.]
[Should I ask the Valentinos? Honestly, they're not pulling their weight.]
[No need. I like them being in my debt, not the other way around. By the way, do you have the grey vial with you?]
[Always. I had Vik install it in my shoulder compartment. But you're not expecting me to use it on this small fry, are you?]
[Of course not! That would be a total waste. But if you're planning to join me afterward, you might want to consider it.]
[I'll think about it. I'll let you know later.]
Dorio ended the call and turned to Julián.
"They're coming. Let the hunt begin!"
Back at Naturtal&Co…
Faelan hung up and let Dorio warm up for the "main event" that would come when they visited the Animals' headquarters.
He looked around at the destruction and sighed, rubbing his forehead. He really needed to make an impression this time.
"Well, I've got a little time after all—might as well use it," he told himself. He didn't want to just stand around doing nothing in the middle of all this.
He buried the corpses deep underground, returned the supposed samples to the workshop, restored the vegetation damaged by the fire, and, taking advantage of the absence of people, used lots of roots to recover and organize the debris, making the site easier to rebuild.
It wasn't going to be cheap, but Faelan couldn't just rebuild the place out of wood—or rather, didn't want to, because of the Wasteland climate. The wood would dry out quickly and be easy to ignite if not treated properly.
That's why he used something as fragile as wire fencing. Even building wooden walls would become counterproductive after just a few days.
"We've got to improve that," he noted mentally.
If they'd had thick, sturdy walls, that truck full of explosives wouldn't have been such an effective tactic.
By the time Dorio returned with some oil splattered on her cheek, Faelan had just finished improvising a grave for Fluffy in the company garden—now overflowing with flowers that could endure this climate for a long time.
He gave Dorio a few minutes alone. He had already said what he needed to say.
Dorio's sobbing stopped after about twenty minutes, when she got in the car with puffy eyes and a posture that said she was ready to tear someone's head off.
"Do you know where the Animals' base is?" Dorio asked as she drove toward Night City. "I need an address. All I know is that they hang around Pacifica and don't get along with the Voodoo Boys due to territory disputes."
She knew the general traits and background of the Animals, but the key details were still a bit blurry.
"Head to the Grand Imperial Mall in Pacifica—you can't miss it," Faelan instructed while checking his Pip-Boy. "Kiwi's located one of the Animals' high-ranking fighters. We'll ask her for directions…"
"What are you having them do?" Dorio asked, eyes still on the road.
"Sasha is still gathering intel on the Animals—mainly checking their drug sources and seeing how to cut off their 'juice' supply and the other brands they push."
Something the NCPD should've done years ago, but of course, that was never going to happen.
"As for Kiwi, she's poking around Faraday's business carefully. We don't want to spook him into leaving the city early."
Even if he wasn't the most connected fixer in the future, the guy was ruthless.
"That's the guy who gave the job to the Animals' Alpha, right?" Dorio gripped the steering wheel tightly, leaving faint marks in the steel.
"If not for him, Fluffy would still be with us."
Faelan glanced at her, surprised by how much she'd grown attached to the dog.
"That's right," he nodded. "So here's the plan: we get the location of the Animals' base, we go in, get the info on Faraday from their Alpha or execs, and then we send a truck to deliver pork to the soup kitchen."
Given how big the gang members were, the pigs would be big enough to feed the homeless for quite a while.
"About that… do they have to be alive for you to turn them into pigs?" Dorio had seen the pig they stuffed into the car trunk. She was still a little amazed by the range of that mystical crap.
She'd just start getting used to one level, only for Faelan to reveal the next.
"Yeah, I can't change corpses," he admitted. "So we'll have to go for limbs. But of course, our safety comes first. If you need to kill, just do it. Were the fugitives hard to deal with?"
"Not really. One of the Valentinos wanted to show off, pulled out a rocket launcher and blasted the transport to hell," Dorio shook her head. "Didn't even get a chance to vent. The other Valentinos weren't too happy with the guy either—he literally blew up their profits. Nothing could be salvaged."
"Guess he didn't think it through. Probably expected applause or something."
They fell into silence for a few minutes as they neared their destination.
"Hey," Dorio called out.
"Mmm?"
"I was thinking… can you use your mystical crap to, I don't know, paralyze the Animals or something?" she asked pragmatically.
"I mean, like how you used those hallucinogens on the intruders at the company."
Now that she thought of it, she should remind Faelan to call a construction crew to fix the damage.
"I could," Faelan considered for a moment. It wouldn't be hard for him. "A spore cloud should do the trick, but I don't know if they've got lung implants, nerve boosters, or other enhancements. And it would affect you too."
"Can't you give me an antidote, or antibody, or whatever?" Dorio questioned.
"Uh…" Faelan paused. "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "Yeah, I can inoculate you with an inhibitor so the spores don't affect you, but it'll only work temporarily."
He could make a permanent version, but he'd need time and materials he didn't have right now.
"Fine, start prepping it," Dorio overtook a slow car. "Because I'm still pissed about Fluffy, and I need to vent. Aside from the person we're looking for, let me handle the rest!"
Faelan looked at her with understanding.
"Just don't use the grey vial yet."
"Those guys aren't worth it."
...
Grand Imperial Mall, one hour later.
Forty-seven Animal gang members lay dead across the building floor, with only one survivor left—tied up and being interrogated by Faelan. The captive was an Animal nicknamed "Rhino," who had been climbing the gang's ranks rapidly ever since joining five years ago.
Dorio sat on a nearby bench, wiping her face and clothes with a fifth clean towel, trying to scrub off as much fresh blood as she could.
"These guys are savages!" Dorio complained, tossing away another towel—once pure white, now a pinkish red—and grabbing a fresh one from the pile beside several water bottles she used for rinsing. "Loads of stimulants and muscle implants, but barely any decent firearms. I ended up having to use... what did you call it?"
"Giant Strength Potion," Faelan reminded her without taking her eyes off Rhino, who was being surprisingly stubborn.
"Yeah, that one!" Dorio said, still cleaning herself as best she could. "By the way, you really should've warned me more about how strong it was," she added with a tone of childish resentment, almost pouting.
After all, she hadn't expected that, upon using the potion—since there was no time to reload her weapon—one punch from her would cause the upper half of a two-and-a-half-meter-tall Animal to explode like a balloon. The fight had paused momentarily while Dorio stared speechless at the cleanly severed spine in front of her, and the other Animals stared at her through their comrade's hollow ribcage.
Okay, yes, Dorio might've gotten a little carried away after that and started punching everything and everyone to pieces, occasionally throwing one into another for a double explosion...
But she ended up covered in blood and guts!
And some of those guts were still... stuffed.
"I gave you a pamphlet. You should've read it," Faelan deflected the supposed responsibility—because, technically, she was right. She had made sure to give clear instructions.
Dorio snorted and didn't reply. She didn't want to admit the pamphlet had ended up in the washing machine when she did her laundry.
"So..." Faelan turned her attention back to Rhino. "Nothing?" she repeated. "Not even a curse, insult, or threat?"
Rhino stared at Faelan like she wanted to bite her head off.
Which—honestly—she probably would try if she weren't bound by roots.
The woman was so swollen with muscle, she'd be disqualified from a female bodybuilding competition for cheating.
Dorio couldn't blame her for her reaction. Aside from the fact that all her subordinates had just been wiped out, the way Faelan had used roots to restrain her was... recognizable to certain types of people with certain preferences.
Faelan wasn't even aware of that. She hadn't done it on purpose—she just wanted to make sure Rhino had zero chance of escaping, and her common sense told her that meant a lot of roots. Twisting. Binding. Everywhere.
"What do we do, then?" Dorio asked, trying not to laugh as she realized the unintentional... aesthetic. "If we don't get any info, we're stuck—and sweeping through Pacifica top to bottom isn't exactly a great idea," she added, tossing aside another towel and grabbing a new one.
"Maybe we're going about it wrong," Faelan said, putting in her Pip-Boy earpiece.
[Fae? If this is about Faraday, I still got nothing. The guy knows how to stay hidden.]
[Actually, I was wondering if you think it'd be viable to buy information from the Voodoo Boys.]
[That'd attract dangerous attention. Those guys have kept to themselves so far, and I don't feel like poking them. I don't like them.]
She wasn't wrong. For netrunners, the Voodoo Boys were basically boogeymen.
[Would it be better to get the info from a fixer instead?]
[Weren't you trying to squeeze it out of one of the Animals' higher-ups?]
[She's being more stubborn than I expected. If I keep going like this, she might not even be able to talk when I'm done.]
[Give her one of those truth serums. I'm sure they've got a few stashed in their offices or locker rooms.]
[You know I'm not using that unreliable crap.]
Truth serums weren't even real potions, just drug cocktails—like sodium thiopental—used by gangs during interrogations. But besides the side effects, they were all flawed.
Blending truth with fantasy, causing delusions, loss of will, memory gaps, warped reality… people could even lie while under the influence, if they really wanted to.
[Fine, give me a minute and plug one of the chips into whoever you're interrogating. I'll try to pull something from their head, but no promises.]
[You're the best. Which color?]
A brief pause followed.
[…The blue chip with red stripes will do.]