Rebecca also deflated, irritably scratching her hair: "Dammit, you're right. What about our hideout in the city? We've got plenty of stuff there! Plus my collection!"
She referred to her various weird and wonderful weapons and ammo stashed at the hideout.
Kiwi also raised her head—this was currently one of her biggest concerns, voice carrying urgency: "My netrunning gear, servers, all my backup data... everything's in the city. Without those, I... my capabilities take a massive hit."
For a skilled netrunner, specialized equipment and servers storing countless tools and exploit information were half her life.
Pilar also wailed: "My tools and those hard-earned rare components are in there too! That's all money!"
Reality problems kept piling up one after another.
Behind the "glory" of antagonizing corps lay concrete survival crises and property losses.
Maine looked around at his crew, voice heavy: "We gotta go back to the city. Gotta retrieve our stuff. That's years of savings, plus the foundation for our future operations.
But looking like this now, waltzing into the city would be walking straight into a trap."
He looked at Falco: "Falco, you got any connections? Can we find someone trustworthy to help haul things out?"
Falco shook his head, face grave: "Tough. Right now, everyone knows helping us means opposing corps. Regular transport crews definitely won't touch it. Trustworthy friends... can't drag them into this mess either."
The previously silent Dorio spoke up, her voice still steady, carrying reassuring strength: "Perhaps we could ask the Animals for help."
"The Animals?" Maine looked at her. Others also cast questioning glances.
"Yeah." Dorio nodded, beginning detailed explanations, tone carrying certainty from past understanding. "I know several Animals leaders. Dealt with them back when I was in the gang.
They're different from city fixers who only know grabbing cash, or backstabbing corp dogs. The Animals... they've got their own code."
She organized her thoughts briefly, continuing: "They extremely worship pure physical strength, consider over-relying on cyberware signs of weakness.
So in the gang, status largely depends on your muscle mass and combat skills.
Because of this, they especially value 'strength' and 'credibility.'
Once you prove you're strong enough, earn their respect, they'll treat you as 'one of their own.' Promises made—as long as not violating their 'might makes right' principles—basically get kept.
Compared to slippery operators like Faraday, their 'street honor' is more reliable."
Rebecca's eyes lit up: "Right! Dorio, you're so badass now—bare-hand wrecking mechs no problem, yeah? They'll definitely respect you!"
Dorio didn't seem particularly optimistic, continuing: "I can contact them. With my current... condition, should earn their attention. Plus..."
She paused, seemingly weighing words. "If we can offer some 'incentive'—like hinting the boss has methods making people stronger—the entire Animals gang would probably be willing working for us."
She understood well that for these fanatics pursuing human physical limits, a method breaking bodily constraints without relying on massive cyberware held deadly temptation.
Her words stirred everyone's hearts. Those muscle-bound maniacs in the Animals—their pursuit of strength was bone-deep.
Cairo's mind-boggling enhancement techniques were undoubtedly irresistible temptation for them.
However, Maine almost immediately shook his head, tone decisive: "Drop that idea right now, Dorio. The boss's tech isn't for these kinds of deals. He helps us modify because we swore loyalty—we're useful to him. Plus the price..."
He glanced at Dorio's enhanced arms and Rebecca's plasma pistol. "...We've already paid, and will pay more in the future. He'd absolutely never agree randomly giving unrelated people modifications, especially entire gangs. Rashly proposing such requests would only piss him off."
Maine clearly understood Cairo's equivalent exchange, efficiency-first principles.
Technology, resources—in Cairo's eyes all required precisely measured value. Impossible trading them for the Animals' manpower support—that held zero value to Cairo while bringing unnecessary troubles and risks.
Dorio fell silent momentarily, then nodded.
She also understood her earlier thoughts were somewhat overly idealistic.
That red-robed "boss's" thinking patterns differed completely from street rules.
"Understood. Then we won't mention tech—just talk business. I'll go personally. With my current abilities, negotiate with them, pay sufficient eddies, have them help moving stuff from our hideout plus Kiwi's equipment—safely out of the city, delivered here. This much—given the Animals' capabilities and style—they should be willing and able."
Maine considered for moments. Currently this seemed the most feasible method.
He looked at Dorio: "How risky?"
Dorio replied: "I'll be careful. Only contact trustworthy people, keep transactions discreet. The Animals and corps already don't get along—unlikely they'd sell us out for corps, especially when we're paying hard eddies."
"Alright." Maine finally decided. "Let's do it. Dorio, this is on you. Contact them ASAP, confirm transaction details and prices. However many eddies needed, we'll pool together."
He looked at others. Nobody objected.
"Yeah, I'll contact them shortly." Dorio acknowledged.
The topic temporarily had direction. Interior atmosphere eased slightly but remained shrouded by uncertain future gloom.
They temporarily had a foothold, but this wasteland was far from Night City's prosperity and opportunities—far from their familiar lives.
Future directions completely depended on that mysterious, unfathomable existence deep within the workshop.
Rebecca idly fiddled with her pistol, muttering: "Wonder how long the boss still needs working on his research... What's so special about that prisoner, worth him spending so much effort."
Hearing this, Kiwi involuntarily shrank further into shadows, mind replaying that cold, emotionless word: "Purge."
She only hoped this choice wouldn't lead her into irredeemable abysses.
While Maine gazed toward the workshop direction, eyes profound.
He knew corp retaliation would never stop. They must grow stronger quickly to truly survive under Cairo's command, facing future unknown, probably even more dangerous missions.
Current predicaments were merely beginnings.
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