"Cyberware black market, contraband smuggling, custom mods…" Andy's fingertip tapped firmly against the datapad, and a cold-blue hologram projected a series of blood-red offense categories between him and Iron Chunk. "You guys run quite the comprehensive operation here at the docks."
The Maelstrom control hub reeked of motor oil and rust. The blue glow from the monitors flickered across Iron Chunk's face, which was studded with metallic implants. He grinned, the red glint from his four cyber-eyes flickering. "Aw, come on, officer. You make it sound so serious. We're just... running a little gray-market side business."
As he spoke, Iron Chunk deliberately opened his modified mechanical hand, the hydraulics hissing as the fingers spread. "We're not like those Scavengers, digging up graves and ripping out parts. We don't touch that dirty work."
"Side business?" Andy turned to glare at him. "What about those 'Modified Serrated Mantis Blades'? If I remember correctly, those rank among the top banned high-risk cyberware on the black market. Two sets leaked from your docks just last week."
The smile froze on Iron Chunk's face. He looked visibly awkward. "Well, sometimes labels on the crates get swapped…" His hand instinctively moved toward his holstered pistol, but then—catching a glimpse of someone nearby out of the corner of his eye—he quickly reined himself in and dropped the motion. "But we play by the rules! Every deal is consensual—"
"Consensual?" Andy suddenly leaned in, his voice slicing through the silence. "A cyberpsycho went berserk in Watson this morning—almost tore a bystander in half."
He continued slowly, deliberately, "He was using one of your 'mislabeled' modified Mantis Blades."
"You can't blame the seller after the sale, can you?" Iron Chunk still glanced nervously at the figure nearby, trying to justify himself. "Sure, we made a small error. But you can't expect us to carry all the blame. We didn't want that to happen. You don't arrest knife vendors when someone cuts themselves cooking, right?"
He noticed the figure nearby shift slightly, and his voice abruptly jumped an octave, bursting like a cheap speaker, "We admit… uh… there were minor quality control issues!"
Iron Chunk's metal fingers tapped awkwardly on the console in front of him, his nervousness showing. "Come on, it's not like people don't go psycho every day in Night City. The NCPD morgues are practically vending machines now. Just because one incident loosely ties back to us, you can't single us out forever, right?"
Though Iron Chunk was clearly trying to twist the narrative, Andy didn't press the point further—for now.
Because, technically, he wasn't wrong.
In a city like Night City, where mental strain is sky-high and anyone could snap for any reason, Maelstrom's "side business" didn't even qualify as a footnote in the monthly crime bulletin. If Andy hadn't personally run into the psycho incident that morning, this matter probably would've been tabled, especially during a period of severe manpower shortage in the force.
In context, Maelstrom's behavior was relatively tame for Night City—and even borderline "honorable."
All they did was sell a few high-risk cyberware mods that might trigger psychosis. And considering this gang often had its own members turn psycho from overmodding, well… yeah. Minor stuff, to them.
Still, minor or not—Andy had seen it, and that meant it had to be handled.
After a moment of thought, Andy spoke. "Give me your sales records. I know this isn't your entire operation. You know exactly what I want—the list of high-risk cyberware transactions."
High-risk cyberware was expensive. For Maelstrom, every buyer was a potential future "client"—someone to visit again or scavenge post-mortem. Andy, once a long-time merc and now a cop who'd reviewed countless case files, knew that this group definitely kept client lists.
Iron Chunk couldn't really say no. Not just because of Andy's authority—but because of the other presence in the room.
That presence hadn't said a word the entire time. But no one in their right mind would pretend he wasn't there.
KK.
Iron Chunk remembered clearly: when KK beat Royce and his goons like dogs, even snapping Brick's leg with a single kick, he had watched from afar. He might be cocky, but he wasn't stupid enough to compare himself to the guy who took down their ex-leader. Some faces, you just had to respect.
"Sure, I can give it to you. But let me be clear, officer—once I hand this over, don't come crawling back if something happens down the line. We're just businessmen. If you want the source, don't hassle us retail clerks."
He issued a few commands, had a couple underlings unlock some compartments, and shortly after, a data list was handed over to Andy.
The first name that caught Andy's eye was:
Jeremiah Grayson.
That name…
Andy remembered hearing it before in the NCPD's intel archives.
It was tied to a certain someone—Adam Smasher.
Jeremiah Grayson worked for Adam Smasher.
"You have quite the client base," Andy murmured, tapping the number next to Grayson's name—[2]. "What's this number mean? Some kind of internal tagging system?"
"There's a note attached. You can tap to expand it."
Andy followed the prompt. A string of coded tags popped up:
[Ⅰ] Recyclable Sucker: Smile and wait
[Ⅱ] Wasp Hive: Do Not Touch
[Ⅲ] Lamb for the Slaughter: Ready to Claim
"One means they might come back and buy again—low priority. Two means they've got something stored, but it's too dangerous to touch. Three is a regular mark—we can take them out whenever."
Listening to Iron Chunk explain his clearly "professional" classification system, Andy mentally summarized it.
In short:
Potential repeat customer — let them come again.
Untouchable — dangerous or connected.
Target — fair game.
"So you do know exactly who this guy is."
"Too many psychos out there," Iron Chunk said flatly. "We try to avoid messing with the biggest one."
As the conversation continued, Karl had already received the full data packet on Jeremiah Grayson through the comms.
Seeing the note that Grayson worked for Adam Smasher gave him pause.
Adam Smasher—currently Arasaka's chief of security in Night City. A man with access to anything and everything. Why would he need someone using Maelstrom's shipping routes to handle business?
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🔥 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS
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🔥 THE STORY DOESN'T STOP HERE. NEITHER DOES HE.
Night City breaks people every day.
Some crawl away.
Some disappear.
And some simply refuse to stop.
Cyberpunk: The Relentless has 500+ chapters ahead available for readers who want to keep going.
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⚡ NO BRAKES. NO MERCY. NO TURNING BACK.
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Every victory creates another enemy.
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