WEE-OOOH— The sound of sirens had a way of cutting through everything. Even a hundred stories up, looking down at the red-lit chaos of the s
WEE-OOOH—
The sound of sirens had a way of cutting through everything. Even a hundred stories up, looking down at the red-lit chaos of the streets below, that sharp wail still pierced the quiet.
"The lockdown hasn't even started, and it's already a mess down there," V said, standing next to Karl as he gazed at the ever-familiar nightscape of Night City. "So much for the city government's ability to keep things under wraps."
"Just the pre-lockdown party," Jack commented. "Once the official lockdown hits, MaxTac will hit the ground themselves. Then no one will even get the chance to act out. Word is, NCPD's sending drones and exosuits with heavy weapons. With MaxTac and NCPD working together, no idiot's gonna try anything."
"Wouldn't be so sure," Oliver said, arms folded as he watched the flickers of gunfire across the streets. "Outsiders keep flooding in. This could be Watson District's last real party... I just hope Old Vik and Misty stay safe."
Both of them had shops in Little China. If Watson went to hell, they'd definitely be caught in the crossfire. And if some clueless gang punk decided to stir up trouble—
"I already gave Andy a heads-up," Jack said. "He's assigning a squad to patrol Chinatown specifically. Vik and Misty's places are getting special protection. I trust Andy. They'll be fine."
"Funny how you've got your girlfriend over there, and you're the one reassuring me about my friends," Oliver muttered. But hearing Jack had prepped for it helped him relax. "It's wild, though. We used to look down on the NCPD, thought they were all useless. Now their protection actually makes me feel safer. People change fast."
"That's because the NCPD's actually doing something now," said Senzo Arasaka, walking over with a cold beer in hand. "Want a drink? Saw some in your stash, so I threw 'em in the fridge."
"I always pictured you rich boys sipping red wine from crystal," Oliver said.
"Then maybe it's time to update that image." Senzo tossed a cold can to him. "Nothing like a crisp beer to cool off."
"Beer, huh..." Oliver stared at the low-ABV drink, hesitated, and looked to Karl.
Drinking during missions was technically frowned upon—an unspoken team rule unless the job required it.
"Go ahead," Karl said, waving it off. "Just don't overdo it."
"Didn't expect you to lecture me, but I didn't expect you to be that chill either."
"You could say I'm strict with myself so the rest of you don't have to be."
"That almost sounds noble. So, what's the real reason?"
"V picked that beer. I hate the taste."
V's head practically popped a cartoonish question mark. "But it's made from double-malt wheat. You love noodles made from that stuff. Why not the beer?"
"It's too sharp. Just 'cause something tastes good one way doesn't mean it works another. This beer tastes like antifreeze with none of the buzz. I don't get why you like it."
V didn't reply. Hard to explain that it reminded him of the flavor of home—of tribe techies and long nights fixing junk.
"That's the charm. You just don't get it," Oliver said as he popped the can and took a big gulp—only to cough violently. "Okay, yeah, that's a bit much."
"Clown," Jack muttered, accepting a beer from Senzo too. He took a small, careful sip—not like Oliver's reckless chug.
Even that sip burned like hell. Not from alcohol, but from that sharp, bitter sting.
Jack glanced between the beer and Senzo, who sipped it like water. If he didn't know Senzo wasn't like Karl—who'd fake liking food just to push it on others—he'd have thought the man was trolling them.
Gulp.
Then there was V, downing it smoothly like it was nothing. Jack just shook his head. Nomads really were built different.
After drinking half the can in one go, V looked over. "So, it's been two days. Has T-Bug found anything? Those mercs—do we know who they are yet? The lockdown starts the day after tomorrow. If we want to act, it's now or never."
"No confirmed ID, but we've got some clues." Karl gave the skyline another look before walking to the fridge and grabbing a chilled glass of lemon water. "T-Bug saw them meeting with some Militech agents. Picked up a bunch of datachips too."
"She didn't dig deeper?"
"She tried. Got close and immediately detected a counter-intrusion. She fought it off, but by then, they were gone—and the intrusion faded too. According to her, it was probably a warning."
"A warning..." Senzo frowned nearby. "What about the fixer?"
"He was easier to track. But..." Karl paused, searching for the right phrase. "He's kind of like a Filipino lechon."
"Huh?" Oliver asked, now slightly more used to the beer.
"Lechon looks like a full roast pig, but they stuff it with all kinds of ingredients. As it roasts, the inside gets infused with juices and heat. The real prize is what's inside, not the pig. The pig's tasty, sure—but it's not the highlight. It's essential, but once it's cooked, it's just there."
"So basically," Oliver said, "Militech's using Dexter DeShawn like the Voodoo Boys used mercs. A disposable rag?"
"Possibly."
Karl's eyes flickered. "But I've got an idea."
"Oh?"
"When Dexter got involved with those mercs—was he coerced? Or did he know who they were? Maybe he's desperate enough to bet on another crew—even one he doesn't trust."
Oliver immediately caught on.
"You don't mean..."
"Sometimes, if you can't trust one crew, maybe two untrustworthy crews is safer," Karl said. "Dexter's a seasoned fixer. He's probably arrogant and reckless enough to try hedging his bets."
He finished the lemon water in one long gulp.
"If we don't know what they're planning... then maybe we jump in and find out for ourselves."
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🔥🦾 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS 🦾🔥
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