Running corp investigations wasn't anything new for Roqi and his crew —
hell, it was one of the most common gigs they picked up.
If they could jack a Militech convoy,
then no matter how tough Revere Courier Services pretended to be,
they were nowhere near Militech-level hard.
The ambush on V and Jackie?
Clear as day —
someone leaked.
And whoever did it had access to detailed intel —
enough to pull off a pinpoint hit like that.
"Sorry, but I gotta bounce for a while," Roqi said after hanging up, his brows knitted tight.
Facing Melissa, who'd just stepped down from the ring, he added,
"That's my brother. My family. I can't just sit around and do nothing."
Melissa stared at him quietly for a long moment, then gave a slight nod.
"Approved."
Roqi and Mower had joined Max-TAC as external recruits,
still in training — not fully official yet.
But even then, they weren't allowed to come and go without clearance from up top.
"Thanks," Roqi nodded, bowing slightly. "Really... thank you."
He exchanged a look with Mower — no words needed.
They were on the same page.
Glancing around, he noticed all the Max-TAC operatives were silently watching.
Forcing a tight smile, Roqi half-bowed again, then slipped out.
Gear up.
No hesitation.
He left Max-TAC HQ without looking back.
His Delamain was still "in use,"
so he flagged a cab — straight to Viktor Vektor's underground clinic.
The ride felt endless.
The second the cab slowed down, Roqi shot out like a bullet,
crashing into Misty's Esoterica like a whirlwind.
"Hey, you're here,"
came the soft, familiar voice.
Roqi slammed on the brakes.
It was Misty.
Her thick smoky makeup couldn't hide the sorrow buried in her eyes.
Her voice — usually soft and soothing — now carried a weight, a heaviness.
Not the time for a soul-cleansing session.
Not today.
As Jackie's girl, Misty's worry and pain cut just as deep — if not deeper — than Roqi's or V's.
People said love didn't exist in Night City.
But Misty and Jackie proved otherwise.
Roqi had never seen anything purer —
like a shard of crystal shining out from the gutter,
catching sunlight or moonlight, dazzling the world.
The deeper the love,
the sharper the pain.
Roqi forced himself to calm down —
needed a clear head to handle what came next.
Misty just had that way about her —
bringing peace by just standing there.
"Don't worry. Jackie's gonna make it,"
Roqi said, forcing a smile.
"Thanks," Misty replied.
"But honestly? You're the one who needs the comforting."
Behind him, Mower stepped up quietly, placing a warm hand on his back.
That simple touch helped Roqi breathe again,
easing some of the weight crushing his chest.
He gave her hand a little squeeze,
then pushed open the back door of Misty's shop.
Out back, in the messy alley,
V sat slumped on the stairs, arms wrapped around his head.
Beside him, a scrawny, hairless cat curled up silently.
"Lucky..."
At the sound, V looked up.
His voice was hoarse, ragged —
each syllable soaked in exhaustion.
Even the air felt thick with sadness,
like breathing knives.
"Jackie, he..."
V's gaze flickered toward the basement entrance, but he didn't move.
"Vik's still operating. Been over an hour now,"
he rasped out.
"Where's he hit?"
Roqi asked, fists clenching helplessly.
"Bullet ripped through a lung...
damn close to the heart."
Saying it out loud made V wince,
like reliving the pain all over again.
He clutched at his chest, struggling to breathe.
The situation was bad — real bad.
Vik had even called in an old choomba from the corp days to help out —
someone still sharp as hell.
Roqi wanted — no, needed — to see Jackie.
But he knew he'd just get in the way.
So he paced like a caged animal,
then finally dropped down beside V.
"Tell me what happened,"
he said, slapping his own face to stay focused.
"...Second recon run,"
V started after a rough exhale, voice trembling.
First time went smooth enough —
confirmed the intel was solid, but nothing big found.
Second time?
They barely stepped in before the shitstorm hit.
"They knew we were coming,"
V gritted out.
Bots, drones, mercs —
everywhere.
Padre's hired guns dropped like flies.
Roqi could picture it all too clearly.
V and Jackie were no amateurs —
they didn't leave obvious trails.
Someone betrayed them.
Not from their side —
they'd gone solo the first time.
Had to be someone close to Padre.
Without hesitation,
Roqi dialed.
Some things needed answers — now.
"Padre? It's Lucky."
"You're calling about Jackie, aren't you?"
Padre's voice came through, calm as ever.
Roqi stayed silent —
waiting him out.
His silence screamed:
Talk, or I'm coming for you.
Roqi wasn't scared —
not of Padre, not of anyone.
After all he'd been through,
he wasn't that starry-eyed kid anymore.
"I'm sorry about what happened to Jackie,"
Padre said directly, no dodging.
It softened Roqi's glare — slightly.
Mercs and fixers had rules.
If you took a job, the fixer handled the setup, the intel, the cover.
Unless it was flagged as "high-risk, no responsibility,"
the fixer owned it.
Even Dex — that snake — had prepped his jobs right before turning traitor.
Padre wouldn't ruin his name over this.
"I feel it too, my child,"
Padre added, his voice dipping with real sadness.
"Jackie... I watched him grow.
His mother, Mrs. Wells — she's an old friend."
"I'd never harm him."
"...I believe you,"
Roqi finally said.
Padre had no reason to set them up.
He was the one bankrolling the investigation.
No way he'd burn his own investment.
"I didn't want it to end this way,"
Padre sighed.
Both of them knew —
the betrayal came from inside.
Didn't need to spell it out.
No one survived Night City by being clueless —
especially not Padre.
"I had hopes for Jackie,"
Padre finally said after a long pause.
"If he recovers... come find me in Heywood.
We'll talk."
The call ended.
Roqi sat there, staring blankly at the wall.
"What'd he mean?"
V asked, puzzled by the cryptic words.
Roqi gave a soft snort.
"Padre wanted Jackie to be his successor —
or at least carry part of his operation."
"Successor?!"
V blinked in shock.
"Jackie never said anything about that."
"Maybe he didn't know.
Maybe he pretended not to,"
Roqi muttered.
"You remember Jackie's dream, right?"
Make enough eddies to retire.
Be remembered.
Become a legend — not just another Heywood street rat.
Even if legends usually ended up buried in the dirt.
Didn't matter.
After Konpeki Plaza, Jackie had changed.
Still the same dream —
but more grounded.
Working for Padre was part of that change.
He wasn't giving up —
he was just taking a different road to become a legend.
Just like Morgan Blackhand,
Old Snake Weyland,
even Adam Smasher once did.
Before their names became myths,
they fought, bled, clawed their way up.
Jackie had chosen his path.
He wasn't stupid.
Behind the jokes and laughter,
he was smart —
the first to shift gears after Dex's betrayal crushed their old dreams.
After a heavy silence,
Roqi suddenly stood up.
"Where you going?"
V asked instinctively.
Roqi gripped the hilt of his katana.
The alley wind tugged at his jacket.
"An eye for an eye.
A tooth for a tooth,"
Roqi said, his voice like cold steel.
"Blood for blood."
"I don't care about the reasons.
Even if it was for saving the whole damn world —
anyone who hurt Jackie dies."
His eyes burned with raw fury.
He understood Padre's unspoken hint.
Jackie had always treated Heywood and the Valentinos like family.
Even after leaving, that never changed.
But not everyone felt the same.
Some people only saw profit.
-
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🤖 My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew?
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