The day after I proposed supplying the Aldecaldos with weapons for smuggling, I was lying on the bed in my shop with my phone in hand. After I left Panam to work on her plans, I called Grant Moreno, the dad of one of the girls Panam and I saved from the Shiv hideout, to ask him to schedule a meeting with Michiko Arasaka. At first, he was unwilling to do so, but he changed his tune after I hinted that I wanted to return a high-value 'Arasaka asset'.
He'll have to call in a few favors and work with Michiko's schedule, so the meeting would have to be at least a week or two from when I called him. That worked for me since I had plenty on my plate that I wanted to do before then. One of which was finally getting some long overdue upgrades to my cyberware. Once I entered the city, I bee-lined it to Vic's clinic and had him cut me open to install the new chrome.
Several hours later, I walked out of the clinic with a slew of new hardware. A Biotech Σ Mk.3 increased my ram and buffer size, QianT lynx paws combined with upgraded Dynalar optical camo made me almost undetectable to human senses, Arasaka subdermal armor provided extra protection, Militech gorilla arms gave me enhanced strength, a Dynalar Sandevistan Mk.3 increased the bullet time while reducing the cool-down period, and an IEC smart link allowed me to use smart weapons.
The chrome made me an absolute menace on the battlefield, but it also temporarily put me out of commission until my body adapted to the new changes. I had hobbled under the moonlight from Vic's clinic to my shop, crashed onto the bed, and slept the remainder of the day away. That leaves me where I am now, spread eagle on my bed with my phone on speaker, holding for V to pick up the call.
I hadn't talked to her since she left to stash Hellman somewhere safe, so I wanted to see if things had worked out on her end. Besides getting an update from V and telling her that the meeting with Michiko is in the planning phase, I also wanted to ask if she had any dealings with Maelstrom. Panam wanted some hard-to-come-by parts that she thinks the gang has.
Since I didn't want to deal with a group notorious for being primarily borderline cyberpsychos and partially clinical cyberpsychos, I was hoping that V could pull some strings for a business deal. In the game, the player had to buy a robot Maelstrom stole from Militech. The gang had just undergone a change in leadership, forcing V to renegotiate with the new head honcho. If the deal goes wrong and you shoot your way out, you could save the original leader, who then owes you a favor. Just thinking about Maelstrom gave me the heebie-jeebies. Their stitched-together skin, openings in the face, and that creepy red glow from their optics just gave off bad vibes.
"Hey, Basil. What's up?"
V finally picked up the phone, and I focused back on the call.
"Morning, V. You managed to get our friend home safely?"
"Yup. He's nice and secure now."
"Good to know. The meeting with the board member is in the planning phase right now. My contact needs a bit of time to work something out. I'll let you know as soon as I get a definite date."
"Sounds good. Anything else?"
Moment of truth, fingers crossed."
"Actually, yeah. Do you happen to have any ins with Maelstrom?"
There was a pause on the other end, then V spoke up with uncertainty in her voice.
"Well... I did save their old leader, but I also killed half of their gang when a deal fell through, so it's hard to say. Why?"
"They have something that I would like to get my hands on. I'd rather try my hand at peaceful negotiations before resorting to violence. If I had a connection that could skip the line for me so I could talk to the top dog, that would be my best bet. When dealing with the Maelstrom, we both know that the less you interact with them, the better."
"Yeah, you can definitely say that again. Let me see what I can do. I'll call you when I figure something out."
We both said our goodbyes and ended the call. I dropped my phone to my side and tried to relax my body to ease the general ache and pain from all the new chrome. Vic said that I should be able to move without the crutch by tomorrow and that I could start exerting force after another two days. Until then, I'll make my best couch potato impression and rest. That was until my stomach growled from hunger, and I remembered that I hadn't eaten since yesterday's lunch.
I picked up my phone and started searching for restaurants nearby that delivered. Eventually, I settled for just getting a large chilispurt scopperoni pizza and a drink from Buck-A-Slice. Twenty minutes later, I heard my bell ring, and I got out of bed to shuffle over to the door. After I paid and tipped the Buck-A-Slice employee, I dropped the flat box and drank on a table. Scarfing down pizza and drinking straight from the two-liter bottle reminded me of when I was in college, buying five bucks hot-and-ready pizzas and drinking lethal doses of soda alarmingly frequently.
After eating the weirdly crunchy pizza, I grabbed and opened two small bottles Misty and Vic gave me. The blue pills were painkillers from Vic, while the yellow ones were some sort of natural sleep inducers Misty had on hand. I popped one of each into my mouth and washed it down with some water, before limping back to my bed and setting myself down.
(Not quite a time skip. Fast forwarding?)
The following two days flew past at a rapid pace. I spent my free time doing light exercises to get my body back up to one hundred percent. I started with some basic stretches and eventually ramped it up to mundane tasks while having my cyberware activated. During those two days, I also took my first step toward taking combat seriously.
The promise of beer and food got Vic to agree to teach me the basics of boxing, while a meeting with Wakako with some excellent import sake in hand got her to introduce me to a Kenjutsu instructor. I took advantage of my open schedule for the next two weeks and had alternating classes for a few hours every other day. After I could comfortably move again, I spent the following week learning how to fight. Having that day in between each class gave me time to recover, and it ended up being one of the smartest things I've done.
The Kenjutsu instructor was an older man that ran a dojo in Kabuki. When I first met him, he gave me the impression of someone who could barely walk alone. However, once he started teaching, he turned into someone completely different. It was almost like the wrinkles on his face were a lie, and he showed the various cuts with surprising speed and force. The man also rarely spoke, mostly resorting to thwacking other students and me with a stick whenever we were out of form.
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Vic took somewhat of a similar approach, teaching me the basics and pounding the shit out of me until I improved. The primary difference was that Vic talked much more and liked to verbally razz me while beating my ass whenever I fucked up. My life turned into a cycle of recovering and being physically humbled, but I couldn't argue with the results.
By the end of the first week, I had barely scratched the surface of the two arts but saw significant improvements in my combat abilities. I could swing a katana more, brawl for longer, and generally keep my cool better in a fight. My economy of motion saw vast improvements, and I gained a few new skills I could pull out in an emergency. Skills that I hoped I didn't have to use any time soon. But life has a funny way of ignoring one's desires.
(Fast forwarding end.)
It was the next week, and since I hadn't heard anything from Panam, Grant, or V, I decided to schedule more boxing and sword lessons. I had just finished getting my round of whipping from my Kenjutsu instructor and was walking home. The sun had set while I was inside the dojo, and a cool night breeze replaced the star's warmth. I stretched my back and arms, wincing slightly when I accidentally touched one of the areas the Kenjutsu instructor hit multiple times.
While cursing inwardly, my line of thought was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot to my right. Violence was worryingly pervasive in Night City, and I've heard my fair share of random gunshots and drive-bys. But this shot was much closer than just some unexpected event a few streets over. Turning my head to the right, I saw an alley that led to a small area with small food stalls.
Two heavily tattooed men with ponytails were standing next to two people on the ground. One wore a red coat and pants, while the other wore a tank top and jeans. The one in all red had his gun pointed at someone in a restaurant uniform lying on the ground. A pool of expanding scarlet liquid surrounded the head of the man on the floor. Next to the corpse was another man wearing the same uniform, kneeling with his hand in the air. Around the murder were five other hoodlums, trashing the food stalls while yelling and beating the workers.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened here. Going by the tattoos and red, black, and neon color schemes, the gang members were a part of the Tyger Claws. They could have killed the man for not paying his loan, not giving his protection money, or just because they liked scaring people. The point was it was violent, and it was a crime. This was confirmed by a text that popped into my vision, notifying me of being near a violent crime scene. The text reminded me that a while back, I had signed up to be a contractor for the NCPD and was tapped into their scanners.
The Tyger Claw in red shifted his pistol to the worker kneeling on the ground, pushing the muzzle into his head hard enough to force his face to tilt up to see his assailant. The Tyger then said something I couldn't hear, but it must have been awful because the poor worker started yelling incoherently and crying.
I didn't wait to see what the Tyger Claws would do and activated my Sandivistan. My right arm swept my jacket backward, revealing the revolver at my hip. I dropped my hand until I felt the web between my index finger and thumb hit the plastic grip of my overture. A smooth draw later, the revolver was raised in front of my face. I instinctively lined up my front and rear sights, and I pulled the trigger when there was nothing but the head of the red Tyger Claw in them.
I enjoyed the sight of the bullet leaving the barrel and the muzzle flash for a second before shifting my aim to the next target. I stuck with the revolver because guns didn't speed up in function when time slowed down. If I used a semi-automatic pistol, I would have to wait for the slide to travel rearward to eject the spent casing, travel back forward to strip a round from the magazine, and fully seat to chamber the round before I could shoot again. The revolver was completely manual and operated by the trigger. The only thing holding me back was the travel time of the hammer dropping and hitting the primer in the round.
I fired another shot at the closest Tyger Claw and activated my optical camo. I ran closer to my remaining targets while the first two crumpled to the ground, only slowing slightly when taking another shot. Four bullets later, I had an empty revolver, and my Sandivistan ran out. While I went on my rampage, the Tyger Claws had noticed that someone was attacking them, but because of my Optical camo, they couldn't pinpoint my location. Watching them freak out was funny, in a morbid but satisfying way.
Only one last member stood, a woman in a striped suit and short skirt. She was trembling, constantly swiveling and pointing her gun at anything that made a sound, utterly unaware that I was behind her. I didn't have the time to reload my revolver before my optical camo ended, but I still had my katana on my left side from my Kenjutsu lesson. My right arm holstered my gun while my left arm held the scabbard's throat and drew the sheath back. Once my pistol was safely stored, I quickly walked up to her to close the distance. She heard my footsteps and turned towards me, but it was too late.
My right hand gripped the handle wrapped in cord and pulled my katana out. Once my left hand felt the blade had entirely left the sheath, I turned my waist slightly to the left and dipped my katana so it could have more room to swing. Once the sword was at its optimum position, a Gorilla Arm-powered slice swung upwards from my hip and cleanly cut through the jugular of the female gang member. Her eyes widened in shock and horror as she dropped the SMG in her hands and reached up to try in vain to stop the bleeding. Red liquid gushed out from around and between her fingers, soaking into her white suit.
My optical camo ran out, and I phased back into existence in front of her. She looked at me clearly for the first and last time, shuffling towards me. Maybe she wanted to kill me with her dying breath or wanted to beg for her life; I didn't care. I raised my foot and kicked her away from me. Her body dropped to the ground, and her arms fell limp to her sides. I walked to one of the stalls and grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe the blood off my katana. Once my blade was clean, I sheathed the sword and turned around.
The area was a mess, but as far as I could tell, the Tyger Claws only killed one person, so it could have been a lot worse. I walked over to the kneeling man who was presumably moments away from being shot. He had turtled up since the start of the fight and covered his head and ears with his arm.
"Hey, it's OK now. You can get up."
He shivered when I touched him on his shoulder but gingerly looked up when he heard what I said. He took in the sights around him and confirmed that the Tyger Claws weren't harassing him and the small group of food vendors anymore. He then turned to see me, and I tried my best to give him a reassuring smile.
It seemed to have worked, as he thanked me profusely, or at least tried to anyways. The man was still crying, so his words were fighting against hiccups while tears streamed down his face and snot ran out of his nose. I didn't want to seem insensitive, but it was all a bit too much for me. I stood up, backed away from the man, and said some platitudes. While backing away, I remembered that I could make money by sending evidence to the NCPD, finishing a "scanner hustle".
I turned around and got pictures of all the bodies before getting a video recording of what had happened from the man who was almost executed. He spilled his guts about how the collection of stalls hadn't been paying their protection money and that the Tyger Claw wanted to kill some of the workers. I sent everything I had to the NCPD and started looting the corpses. There were a good amount of eddies on them, but the most important things were the weapons. Several of the guns were uncommon, with two of them being rare.
This was the first occurrence where I had the time to loot everything correctly, and it was my first score of something that wasn't of common rarity. By the time I was done scrounging all the gear, I got another text from the NCPD saying they had received my evidence and that the contract was closed. Soon after, a transfer from NCPD hit my balance, and I got paid two grand.
Two grand was very good for the time I put in, but the danger involved balances it out. But I still considered doing this more because the real profit was in the XP I got. Killing the six Tyger Claws and finishing the NCPD contract almost leveled me once. Combining the experience, money, and gear I could loot, this might be one of the most profitable ways to spend my time.
I heard the sirens in the background while considering becoming a professional police contractor. The sound of Night City's finest reminded me that I was at a crime scene, so I quickly sorted myself and made my way out of the area. You didn't have to stay at the crime scene once the contract was finished, but I'd prefer not having to deal with the NCPD if I could help it. I didn't want them to question me on where all the guns were or other things that could bring unwanted attention.
The walk back home was thankfully quick and uneventful. My mind was strangely at peace after the confrontation. I was gradually getting used to killing people, but this was the first time I felt good after committing the deed. Maybe it was because I was helping the law, or I knew I was saving lives. Whatever it was, I decided that the best strategy was to appreciate the good I'd done and not think about it too much.
I spent a few hours watching TV while maintaining my katana. After my blade was oiled and nice and sharp, I took a shower to wash away the filth from exerting my body. Afterward, my skin was free of grime, and my mind was refreshed. Being so relaxed naturally caused drowsiness, and after watching a few videos on my phone, I turned off the lights and went to sleep.
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