The motel room looked like Dexter had tried to pick a fight with the walls.
Furniture lay overturned, plaster was chipped, and half the junk still carried the bullet holes he'd punched into it in a tantrum.
Normally, he'd never have ended up in a dump like this. With his rep in Night City — his talent for greasing palms, leaning on contacts, and playing every angle — Dexter DeShawn could've lived better than ninety percent of the city.
From corpo execs to street mercs who lived like rats, they all had to call him "Mr. DeShawn". That was fixer prestige.
But everything changed the moment Vash and Jackie dropped Saburo Arasaka.
Dexter lost everything in one breath.
His instincts were sharp, though. He grabbed a stash of cash and bolted for the hardest place to trace — some cheap, off-the-grid No-Tell Motel — bringing only one person he trusted: Oleg.
"How's it going?" Dexter slumped on a flimsy, wobbling sofa and picked up a burger, "You get through?"
Oleg shook his head, "Can't get a connection. Same with Jackie Welles."
"Shit!"
Dexter whipped the burger to the floor and stomped it flat — like he was grinding those two idiots under his heel.
Oleg tried to steady him, "Mr. DeShawn, for those two to get out of Konpeki Plaza, they had to ride Delamain. Afterlife's gonna be locked down tight. Only place they can come is back here."
Dexter's eyes narrowed. He thought for a moment, then nodded.
"You're right. With Saburo dead, Arasaka's gonna turn the whole city upside down to find them. They've got nowhere else to go."
He hadn't even checked the news. The moment he caught wind of Saburo dying, he fled before the story broke. When he first got here, he'd put a round through the motel's antique TV in a rage.
So all Dexter really knew was this: the Emperor was dead.
"Oleg. When they show up…" Dexter dragged a thumb across his throat, "Don't hold back."
Only one thing could buy him breathing room — get the Relic back and silence them for good.
"Yes."
Not long after, footsteps thudded up the stairs.
This motel had always been trash; the soundproofing was just as bad.
Knock. Knock—
Someone rapped on the door.
Oleg opened it and saw a stranger waiting in the hall.
"We don't need room service—" Oleg started, already moving to shut the door.
Slash!
A thermal katana flashed in a horizontal arc.
Oleg's head flew clean off, rolling across the floor with a wet thump.
Goro Takemura stepped over the body without slowing and walked straight toward Dexter — whose face went bloodless.
Dexter made his living by knowing people, and he recognized him instantly: Saburo's personal bodyguard. More than once, when Saburo attended world summits, this man had stood at his side like a shadow.
Dexter's heart dropped.
He never imagined someone like this would come for him.
Resisting didn't even cross his mind. He wasn't a shooter — how could he match Takemura?
And nobody went against Arasaka and lived.
"Where are they?" Takemura's voice was flat and razor-edged, "You were the fixer. The ones who killed Saburo-sama will come back to you."
Dexter stammered, "I-I-I'm looking too. They haven't come."
Takemura stepped closer and drove the blade into the sofa beside Dexter's head.
Dexter turned and saw his own terrified face reflected in the steel.
He pissed himself.
"Find them, and you live." Takemura said, "Fail, and you die."
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Meanwhile, Vash and Jackie didn't drive back to Watson — already crawling with Arasaka's people. Instead, they cut straight for Jackie's old turf: Heywood.
Along the way, the city's giant neon billboards weren't pushing ads anymore.
They were broadcasting one headline on repeat:
Saburo Arasaka — dead.
A light drizzle sheeted down over the streets. Inside the jet-black Rayfield Caliburn, Vash and Jackie couldn't stop laughing — half disbelief, half adrenaline.
"V, you know what?" Jackie said, voice rough with excitement, "This run felt like a damn dream. When I saw Yorinobu Arasaka kill his own father… and then Adam Smasher…" He let out a breath, "Choom, my heart damn near jumped outta my chest."
There was no other word for it — Konpeki Plaza had been a thrill ride straight through hell.
They hadn't stormed Arasaka Tower like Johnny Silverhand, but Konpeki was still one of Arasaka's crown jewels — one of its "face" locations. Now it was in ruins, and Saburo had died there.
With Yorinobu ready to shove blame anywhere it stuck, Vash and Jackie were about to become the kind of name people whispered like a curse.
A legend wasn't just someone strong.
A legend was someone who did what normal people couldn't even imagine.
And a living legend was a different species entirely.
The crazy part?
This job got them what they wanted.
"V." Jackie said suddenly, remembering, "Didn't you say you'd tell me the whole story after we were done?"
Vash took a moment to pick his words — cutting what couldn't be said, polishing what could, and threading in his plan to build a faction.
Then he told Jackie everything, start to finish.
When he finally shut up, Jackie stared like he'd been hit.
He never expected Vash had been setting the stage that far back — starting from the moment they met Dexter, link after link, each step sliding into the next until the whole thing became inevitable.
And then there was the talk of building something bigger.
How could Jackie not want that?
He'd left the Valentinos because he couldn't see a future there. He drifted, talked big, tried to make something of himself — but before meeting V, his life had still been the same old loop.
"Jack." Vash said quietly, looking out through the rain-smeared glass, "Remember when I told you I'd burn Night City to the ground and build a new order? Only by becoming a force can we crush corps that don't treat people like people. Only then can more people lift their heads and see the stars."
Jackie looked over, "V… I ain't the best with words, but I get it." His jaw tightened, "First half of my life, I just wanted to be a legend. Now? I did it."
He smiled, slow and fierce.
"And now my new goal… is to let more people lift their heads and see the stars."
"Respect." Vash laughed.
For him, becoming a legend wasn't the end.
Becoming someone who could change Night City — together with that hard-headed choom, Jackie — was the beginning of a new chapter.
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The Rayfield Caliburn ate the highway.
After hours racing through the rainy night, dawn finally crept in and the sky began to pale.
They crossed into Heywood.
"V." Jackie said, spreading his arms like he owned the place, "Welcome to Heywood. Welcome to the Valentinos."
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T/N: Comment, give me Power Stones, like and favorite, it all supports me and makes me go foward with this. Appreciate my other stories as well, I guarantee the good work!
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