『Felix Karl Grimm』
After my meeting with the Dealer several days ago, I had been very busy. Doing gigs day after day, most of them boiled down to "Go there, kill that guy." "Go here and shake this guy down." or "Protect this guy." nothing standout.
Although minor gigs did not get me feats, they did give me experience, practice and money. My use of Precognition had gotten substantially better; I could better handle its usage and even learned to use it somewhat out of reflex. I also upgraded my arsenal; it still looked roughly the same, but the materials were now of higher quality
And not only that, but my weapons had really gone up in quality for sure.
1x Malorian Overture - My go-to weapon, it cost a pretty penny, but it was worth every single Eurodollar. If it doesn't kill whatever I shot at, it will at least take off the limb it hit. Even overly modified Maelstrom cultists rarely survived a shot. But neither does my wrist.
I broke my wrist so, so many times in such little time. But that's the price you pay with a gun that puts pot-sized holes in people. Even my slightly abnormal strength could barely handle the recoil with both hands. Maybe I should look into buying some safe steroids. There is no way this world hasn't made performance enhancers for corporations that don't make you look like an Animal. And by that I mean the gang, not the creatures.
2x M221 Saratoga - When I stop giving a fuck I pull out this bad boy that I traded in my Shigure for. A compact, lightweight yet powerful SMG that I could carry around with little problem. I typically jumped from behind cover and stuffed people with lead. Normally, that leads to you missing almost all shots, but not when you can see the inside of the room by peeking a few moments into the future when you already jumped in.
1x Nue - Remember that line about switching to your secondary being faster than reloading? I do. That's why I have Nue in my belt for when I run out of ammo on Overture and don't have the luxury of reloading. It doesn't have the style of Overture, but it gets the job done against most enemies.
1x D5 Copperhead - What can I say? It's the AK-47 of this world, reliable and shoots hard. I bring this with me on occasion when I know the mission is gonna require more than usual amounts of killing. Otherwise, it stays at home.
Funnily enough, the only two I paid for were the Overture and Saratoga. All others I nicked off of corpses, hell, that was half my income, I picked off their guns and carried them in a travel bag. I had a pretty good savings of 12,000~ Eurodollars thanks to the sheer number of gigs I did in such a short span of time. And because Regina appreciated how thorough I was with my job, and threw in some bonuses.
Currently, I was smoking while staring out into the city from my room. Was it bad for my health to smoke?
Not really, I probably have a higher chance of getting cancer by taking a deep breath outside than smoking a cigarette. And they already solved cancer here like 70 years ago. And even if not, I had powers to warp reality. If I couldn't roll something that can solve a mundane disease by the time cancer really becomes a problem for me, I might as well just succumb to it.
"Sigh... I should call Regina."
Most of my day, I just did jobs and worked out. There were no hobbies to be had in Night City, at least for me, and I did not want to lose my virginity to some random. The shows were campy or gross, all proper anime were lost because of that worthless fucker Rache Bartmoss ruining the internet, and I didn't have any friends either. I needed to get stronger to cause some real damage to a Megacorp.
Technically, once I got some proper shit, I could just go into Arasaka Tower and start shooting shit up. The biggest need I had was for durability; I am nowhere near bulletproof.
I rang Regina, hoping for a good gig to get, the agent automatically obscuring my face as the call was picked up.
"Hey, Regina, got another gig for me?"
Her brows furrowed in equal parts disbelief and something I couldn't decipher.
"Christ Grimm, do you ever rest or sleep? You are taking so many gigs you're gonna put my other mercs out of house and home. Ever thought about going to other fixers? I'm happy to have a reliable merc like you, but there is a balance to be maintained."
Bummer.
"Oh well, can you put in a good word for me to the other fixers? I still need a job."
She facepalmed.
"I don't think I'll need to Grimm, you already have a bit of a reputation as that maniac who takes job after job and leaves a trail of corpses in his wake without a moment of rest. But sure, I will, though, before that I do have a job for me. Quite a high risk one, you interested?"
"Sure, money is money."
"Good to hear, your target is one Jotaro Shobo." Oh, I know this one! "Dude is one sick monster, and that's by Night City standards. Deals in filming XBDs and human trafficking, the worst kinds. Some Mox netrunners found him in the Ho-oh Club, but due to being high up, he has heavy security. They want the walls painted with him, but they would be willing to pay extra if he is brought to them fresh."
I nodded and immediately got to work putting on my gear. Shobo was a big fish; he would almost certainly give me a feat.
"Got it, I'll go right now."
Regina smiled affirmatively.
"Good, I know I can trust you, Grimm. I'll send you the deets. Avoid harming civvies, but you already know that. If you capture him fresh, send me a holler. Mox has a car waiting eagerly for their pound of flesh."
With that, Regina closed the call and sent me a message that I looked over while fully equipping my gear. Tucking my SMG under my trench coat, Nue in my left holster, while Overture in the other. I'd need something to take down Shobo without killing him...
✧―✧―✧―✧「」✧―✧―✧―✧
"They better pay out for this..."
I fiddled with the Neurotoxin knife in my hands that I just bought for a pretty penny from a shady dealer. A good poke with this and Shobo would go down like a sack of flour and be out for hours. I made sure to buy and fill it with a good canister and a paralytic agent. I was about 20 meters away from the Ho-Oh club at the moment. Kitted in full gear, my approach was obvious.
Go in, start killing.
What? I'm not built for stealth, I can't sneak around in my bulky gear, so I was going to take the direct approach. I was no ninja anyway, so this was really my only approach. I checked with Regina, and there really wasn't anywhere Shobo could escape to from where he usually is. It would be heavily guarded, and it would be a challenge.
...But I'll take the gamble, if I'm afraid of some gangs while having superpowers, I'll never bring down Arasaka Tower.
I started walking towards the entrance of the club, the bodyguard at the side giving me a weary glance, stepping forward to stop me.
"Oi, buddy, what are you doing with all that gear? This is a club, not a warzone."
My head turned to him, his hand hovered dangerously close to his gun while I read him Precognition.
"Ah, sorry, I just came back from a job and was looking for a drink-"
"Urkh! Uhgh..."
Before he could react, one of my hands reached and grabbed his wrist before the other snaked around my belt and stabbed the Neurotoxin Knife into his gut, drawing a pained, breathless gasp from him before he dropped. I quickly changed the charge inside the Knife before stepping in. Nobody noticed the man I stabbed due to the opaque walls.
"おい,お前は誰だ?そんな格好で?"
The man behind the bar shouted at me in Japanese, making me lament the fact that I did not have the translation implants for a single second before I drew my Nue. The man was dressed in Tyger colours, and I remember him having an enemy mark in-game I'd eat my shoe if he was not a Tyger Claw. He was about to dodge, but I aimed towards where he would go through Precognition.
Bang!
"この野郎!"
Screams rang out around the club casino mix, the customers dropping down to the ground on instinct while the Tyger Claws went to draw their weapons, making my job of distinguishing them easier. I took off into a sprint behind cover while landing a shot right into the lung of a man with an SMG, dropping him. Several shots rang out, all but 2 missed their marks, one catching my sleeve while one hit my thighs, not breaking through the ballistic weave.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Screams and gunshots weaved a symphony of carnage in the club, the poor people inside tried to rush out while I picked off Tygers one by one, quite hard to fight someone when they know exactly when to peek out of cover and know where to shoot. Using Precognition whith so many people around felt rather disorientating, but I took my time and proceeded carefully, and with two magazines of Nue, I had killed the 6 people on the lower floor. 2 people had heard the noise and came to join the slaughter, which I obliged. I had only gotten shot thrice, once more on my side, but the vest stopped it from making me bleed.
My breathing steadied, I walked forward, going up the stairs. They threw a grenade down, and it exploded. The shrapnel tore apart my head and body, killing me.
The Precognition faded.
I waited a moment for them to throw the grenade before snatching it out of the air and tossing it back up towards them, before unleashing a hail of bullets with my SMG; no longer needing to worry myself with civilians who had all fled.
The Tygers were in a panic; some random just killed their men and never stopped moving. They were gang members, not trained soldiers. Panic comes from the fear of the unknown. I knew where the bullets would fly, I knew when the bullets would hit me and where not to stand. I knew myself and my enemy, and thus I held no fear.
"F-fuck stay away!"
One of them shouted in English as he kept squeezing the trigger on his gun. His arms trembled; the bullets would never hit anything with that. The Militech training shard zapped you if you trembled like that.
I pointed Overture towards his head calmly while sidestepping his line of fire.
Bang!
Like a popped balloon, viscera and gore splashed. The only pity I felt was for the next owners of this establishment who would have to clean the gore. I kept moving, my eyes hurt from overusing Precognition, a headache was making its way to me. I had taken quite a few shots to the body, none of which pierced my armour, at least not deeply, but I would be bruised to hell and back; some of my ribs were definitely cracked. But I had finally made it to the 3rd floor.
The "Braindance Studio" that was a tarped room stained in blood with the corpse of a young woman inside killed any sympathy I had for them. I am not a moral person; I am willing to take advantage of others to benefit myself.
But this was sick.
I walked past the corpse with grave steps. The Turret they had would have probably killed me if I hadn't seen my head being taken off by Precognition the moment I stepped past the door. I just walked around it and reached the bedroom.
Knock Knock
"Delivery for one Jotaro Shobo."
I opened the door to his room and tilted my body to the side to avoid the bullets he shot the moment I opened it. He was a good shot.
"死ね,クソ野郎!"
He shouted, but I didn't give him a chance. I dashed forward while ducking to avoid his bullets before stabbing his leg with the Neurotoxin Knife, the cartridge of paralytic was injected into his leg instantly.
"信じられない..."
His body dropped unceremoniously with a face twisted in a grimace. I took a step back and let in a deep breath.
"Oh my bad, you were the delivery, not the other way around."
Now, let's give those Mox a call.
Feat Achieved! Subdue Jotaro Shobo and take down the Ho-Oh Club by yourself
+1x Advantage Gold Random Gacha ticket
A/N: If you are in Night City, you just gotta kill Jotaro Shobo, I don't make the rules. This club massacre perfectly displays what a horrifying opponent someone with perfect pre-cog is in a world where everyone is slinging guns. Did you guys like the Ho-Oh massacre?
Also, poor Grimm. He is suffering from success, normally Mercs take a job on a need to basis or as they come by, Grimm is a massive outlier who takes on jobs right after the other like a hungry wolf which paints a certain... image.
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