Chapter 98: Since We're Back, There's No Need to Hide
"Wait!"
Gunner slammed his hands on the desk, shouting at Rhys. The calm, collected demeanor of the old 6th Street cowboy was gone, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"I can explain!"
"Explain?" Rhys looked at Gunner. Gunblade: Shadowsong was currently in the form of a half-meter curved blade, pitch black and looking more like a plastic toy than a weapon. But if you looked closely, a shadowy aura trailed from the edge... eerie and mysterious.
"You kidnapped David and Gloria, brought them here by force. How do you explain that?" Rhys asked with a smile.
Rhys had never liked this 6th Street Captain. A hypocrite, through and through.
Back at the hospital, he'd tried to manipulate Rhys's crew into fighting his internal battles, all while preaching about saving Santo Domingo and reforming the gang. But in reality? Everything this bastard did was to climb the ladder, to grab more power. If he really wanted to protect Santo Domingo, there were a million other ways to do it.
"Climbing to the top to change things"... maybe there was some truth to that logic. More power meant more influence. But in Rhys's eyes, in this era? That phrase was bullshit.
There were too many stories in this world of heroes becoming the dragon. Trusting Gunner, working with him? That would be brain damage.
So, Rhys swung Shadowsong, casually slicing a 6th Street ganger in half right in front of Gunner.
The small room filled with the metallic tang of blood. Two gangers near Rhys gritted their teeth and raised their kinetic weapons, aiming for his face.
But in the next instant, Sasha poked her head in the door.
"Why can't you just behave? Just stand there and die, okay? Why waste my energy..."
The kitten sighed. Her optics flashed blue. The two gangers' arms jerked uncontrollably, turning their guns on each other.
BANG!
In an instant, everyone in the room froze.
Hacking neural implants directly without a deck or external rig...
Anna stared, dumbfounded.
Holy shit... Cyberpsychosis?!
Rhys's crew had a netrunner with that level of skill?
The quickhack was named literally. It induced cyberpsychosis. Targets attacked indiscriminately, prioritizing "friendlies." If no allies were nearby, they committed suicide.
Netrunners who could do this... you could count them on one hand in Night City. It required a completely different skillset from standard hacking. Most runners sat in chairs, surrounded by servers. That kind of setup didn't help with a combat hack like this.
"This is my turf. I know you're strong, but once my men surround this place... you might escape, but what about Gloria and David?"
Gunner spoke rapidly, "Can you guarantee their safety in a firefight?"
Before Rhys could answer, a fluffy set of pigtails burst into the room.
Rebecca shoved David aside and planted herself next to Rhys. A lollipop stick jutted from her mouth, her silver-plated hand twirling it. She looked up at Rhys. "Rhys, downstairs is cleared."
"..." Gunner's face paled.
Rhys looked down at her. "How many?"
"Let's see... I zeroed about seven. Lucy and Kiwi got a few. Dorio took out some. And Pilar is looting the bodies, that bastard brother of mine!" Rebecca fumed.
Her brother was embarrassing. They were in a firefight, and he was looting? What the hell!
Aside from Gunner, only two 6th Street gangers remained standing in the room. They were shaking, terrified to move a muscle.
Rhys looked at Gunner. "So, how many men do you have left?"
"Rhys, this old guy said he has over three hundred," Anna chimed in mischievously. "More than the entire Mox."
"Three hundred... that's gonna take a while to kill," Rhys mused.
"?" Anna stared at him, confused. Wait, are you actually planning on killing them all? That was three hundred people, not three hundred chickens!
"I only invited the Martinezes here as guests. I didn't intend to harm them. Besides, Gloria and I made a deal. We... have a relationship, right?" Gunner looked desperately at Gloria.
A month... these psychos had been gone for a month!
How were they back?
Disappearing from Night City for a month usually meant you were dead. If Gunner had known they were alive, he never would have tried to strong-arm Gloria.
Being a 6th Street Captain was impressive within the gang hierarchy. But compared to an Arasaka executive? There was no comparison.
Rhys was the lunatic who zeroed a corpo exec on live TV. A 6th Street Captain meant nothing to him. If he dared to kill a suit, what was a ganger?
Seeing the murder in Rhys's eyes, Gunner folded immediately.
Rhys looked at Gloria, waiting for her input.
Gloria's face was cold. "I remember explicitly refusing you. But you ignored me, kept harassing me. And I haven't forgotten what you just said."
"Tell me, Gunner. What did you mean by 'it's dangerous for David to walk home alone'? That was a threat, wasn't it?"
Gunner's lips trembled. "It was a misunderstanding, Gloria. I was just inviting..."
"Enough!" Gloria snapped, cutting him off.
She found this man... disgusting.
When he was preaching about honor and duty, he looked so noble. Over the past month, every time he tried to recruit her, he'd talk about sacrificing for the gang, for Santo Domingo.
"Give your life for 6th Street."
But now, facing death, the mask slipped.
Gloria wanted to ask him: Where's your justice? Your sacrifice?
Want to make 6th Street better? Then die with it.
Gloria knew the truth of the streets. 6th Street was rotten. That was why she never let David near them. If you really wanted to improve Santo Domingo, getting rid of 6th Street was the best start.
With a look of disgust, Gloria continued, "You had people watching my apartment. If Jackie hadn't come by every day, if you didn't need me... I can imagine what you would have done to us!"
Gunner opened his mouth to defend himself, but Rhys stepped forward and slapped the old man across the face.
"I've hated you since the first time we met."
The slap sent Gunner flying. Two gold teeth skittered across the floor. Rhys grinned at the sight.
"Rhys..." Seeing Rhys actually strike him, Gloria hesitated. She walked up to him. "Will this cause trouble for you?"
"You just got back. You don't know what's happening in the city..."
"It's fine," Rhys shook his head.
"Exactly, Gloria. Don't worry about that," Maine boomed, laughing as he walked up to stand beside Rhys. He winked at Gloria. "I told you, we're family."
"You get threatened, we get threatened. Your business is our business."
"What are you waiting for?" Maine shouted.
Jackie reacted instantly, grinning as he raised his pistol and double-tapped the two remaining terrified gangers.
Just like that, the room was filled with bodies. Twelve or thirteen 6th Street members dead in a small office.
David breathed in the metallic scent of blood. The scene terrified him, but seeing Rhys standing in front of him, seeing Maine and Jackie's backs... he took a deep breath, pinching the web of his hand hard to ground himself.
He... he didn't want to be useless anymore.
It's nothing. This is nothing!
Just dead bodies.
In Night City, who doesn't see dead bodies every day?
"What about the old man? Kill him or let him go?" Maine asked Rhys.
"Killing him is trouble. He's a key figure in 6th Street. Killing his grunts doesn't matter, but him? That starts a war in Santo Domingo."
"Didn't we already start a war with them?"
"That was different," Maine explained. "That was a gig, and we only killed some hackers and soldiers. Small time. But if this guy dies..."
Even though Maine wasn't a native, he'd lived in Santo Domingo long enough to know the score.
"Captain is a high rank. A little more ambition, and he could run the gang." Maine paused. "And Gloria's worry is valid. The Mox situation isn't resolved. Michiko helped us with the heat, but remember what Tigress said? Once we're back, Michiko only handles the PR. If corps or gangs come for us... we're on our own."
"So Rhys, what's the call?"
Maine clapped Rhys on the shoulder, grinning. "We follow your lead."
"..." Rhys didn't think for long. In an instant, he moved.
In front of everyone, he shifted Shadowsong from a curved blade into a revolver.
A pitch-black hand cannon made of shadows.
He walked over to the unconscious Gunner, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
A black bullet slammed into the old man. This was the weapon's greatest strength.
If Rhys could imagine it, Shadowsong could become it.
No ammo required. Every attack scaled off Rhys's stats. It was like the Plan B pistol in the game that shot eddies, Dexter DeShawn's gun.
Shadowsong was the perfect weapon for him.
With Gunner dead, Rhys turned to Maine. "Since we're back, there's no need to hide."
He continued softly, "We didn't come back to skulk in the shadows. Being low-key doesn't suit us now, Maine. We have a deal with Michiko."
"Two years. I remember," Maine nodded.
He got beat up by Tigress every day at the base; he hadn't forgotten.
"So, what's the next move?" Maine asked.
"Hmm... let's go to Watson. Santo Domingo isn't safe for a while," Rhys decided.
He looked at Gloria. "It's not time to wipe out 6th Street yet. So..."
"I understand. It's okay," Gloria shook her head.
She wasn't unreasonable. Gunner was dead. 6th Street would retaliate to save face. Even if the leadership feared Rhys, they couldn't control their subordinates. Every gang had ambitious psychos looking to make a name for themselves.
Leaving Santo Domingo was the right call. Besides... Gloria didn't miss this place.
"Let's go to the Mox," Anna spoke up.
"You should go back, Rhys. Susan will be happy to see you. Her temper has been getting worse since you disappeared."
Rhys nodded, smiling. "I was planning on taking everyone there anyway."
"The Tyger Claws..."
It's time to make them disappear from Night City.
Rhys thought to himself.
The current Maine's Crew was completely different from before.
A month wasn't long, but in Night City, it was enough to change everything.
And... enough to turn an ordinary person into a monster.
In the age of cyberware, with Michiko Arasaka's funding, the crew was fully upgraded.
Plus, they'd been learning from legends like Tigress and Shoko—people famous since the Time of the Red.
Let's just say... Rebecca was now a literal human tank.
She was walking around with millions of eddies worth of chrome inside her.
Do you understand the power of the Eurodollar?
The Badlands. Highway to Northern California.
An old sedan was cruising at 70 mph.
A woman with spiky black hair, the tips greasy and matted, her face flushed red, was screaming at her phone. "Don't give me that bullshit!"
"I zeroed four guys for this gig! Four! Why is the payout so low? You said deposit upon the first kill, balance upon completion. I gave you three extra bodies, where's my eddies?!"
"What? Say that again? 'Since I'm not staying, it's a one-time deal'? Fuck! Is that how you do business? What kind of bullshit fixer are you?"
"Fuck you! Fine! Keep it! Use it to buy your mother a nice coffin!"
"Go to hell! Remember this: if I ever see you again, you're dead!"
"Bastard! Bastard!"
She screamed curses, but the line was already dead. She tried calling back—blocked.
V's face turned red with rage.
"Fuck! How much longer to Night City?"
She checked the fuel gauge and wanted to cry.
She'd stopped to work here for a month, and barely made enough for gas and food. Not even enough for a motel room!
But... what could she do?
She was famous in her clan. They gave her the best jobs.
But out here? No one knew her. Even though V was a skilled fighter... no reputation meant no good gigs.
Plus, she only stayed in one place for a short time. Fixers didn't trust her, and she couldn't tell if the fixers were trustworthy.
So...
She got screwed again!
Four kills, three thousand eddies!
Three thousand! What could she do with that?
Feeling like the world's biggest sucker, V slapped the steering wheel hard.
"God... damn... fixers!"
She stared ahead at the road.
Dammit... I'm gonna cry!