[TN: Yo, three chapters for missing Thursday and Friday.]
The commissions from Lane and Jefferson were basically upgraded versions of their earlier requests.
Jefferson had always been deeply concerned about violent crime across Night City, so it made sense he wanted an investigation into Holt, as well as the mercenaries and weapons brought in by the Europeans.
Lane, on the other hand, was more focused on the rogue AI Muramasa and its ties to the Europeans. He didn't seem particularly hostile toward European involvement itself, but the AI issue had his full attention.
Both of them also raised the stakes on payment, offering rewards of the same level. Clearly, the two had reached a degree of consensus about pushing Leo into a more official position.
The only question was—when the time came, who would Leo lean toward?
The car slowly pulled away. Leo, Jackie, and V stood on the street, watching the busy NCPD vehicles. A few Centaur mechs had even rolled in to seal the area.
With all this European pressure, NCPD had immediately equipped Centaurs, and probably plenty of other gear too.
"Guess we're about to be respectable folks now?"
Jackie looked calm on the outside, but his tone betrayed some restlessness.
The most respectable life he'd ever imagined was becoming a Valentino boss—running a casino, a bar, or maybe a restaurant, some kind of "legit" business, while acting as a "godfather" in the gray zones of the law.
But truthfully, no matter how powerful a gray-market godfather might be, it still couldn't compare to the kind of official identity Night City was now dangling in front of them.
Being strong was one thing. Being in office was another.
That was the restless part. The calm part was that the life he was living now wasn't so far off from his wildest dreams anyway.
He just couldn't quite picture what it would feel like to be a big official in Night City.
V only cared about one thing: "Why didn't he say how much money?"
That too was beyond her imagination.
Back when she was just a street kid, her only thought would've been, those bastards must have endless piles of cash.
Now her perspective had broadened. She knew they had a lot of money—but exactly how much? And beyond that, what could more money actually do? That, she had no real concept of.
"…You've already got more money than you know how to spend. Don't worry about it," Leo said, glancing at her.
V glared back.
"Ahem. Anyway, we just keep digging. Whether we take the deal or not is another story. Worst case, we make them pay us in cash."
Still, Dogtown might be worth the trip.
Leo took a few steps forward, then suddenly stopped in his tracks, staring at the half-destroyed medical center.
Jackie and V halted too.
But it wasn't that Leo wanted to stop—
[Little Octopus: Bro, your brain waves, blood flow, and intracranial pressure are all out of whack. Your brain temperature has been elevated for 24 hours straight.]
[Little Octopus: Looks like a tumor.]
Right. It was cancer.
The Lizard serum kept stimulating Leo's cellular activity. Normally, it would shorten his lifespan, but he could still live decently with it.
The real issue wasn't shortened cell life—it was the vastly increased risk of mutations.
Those two overclocked uses of Sandevistan had pushed his cells far past their limits. With repeated division and differentiation, the chances of cancer skyrocketed.
And then there was the radiation in his body—not immediately lethal, but more than enough to raise the mutation odds even further.
The tumor was pressing on his neural tissue, causing functional impairment: delayed reflexes and slower signal conduction.
He needed surgery.
"Hey!" V leaned close to his face. "What's wrong? You having an episode?"
The wave of pain ebbed, and Leo shook his head. "Nothing major."
V frowned. Then suddenly she said: "Sis has money. You want me to buy you one of those medical packages? All those biotech ads keep pushing nanotech surgeries and whatever."
"Not much point."
Leo's issue was genetic—and a very complicated one.
Splicing in lizard genes had granted regenerative ability, offsetting cell degradation. But it hadn't fixed the underlying cause—it just gave his body a compensating power.
Radiation and chemicals damaged DNA unevenly. To actually cure it with gene therapy, they'd need to sequence every cell, compare it to a baseline, and create tailored repair schemes.
But over time, no one could predict how those altered cells would evolve.
With current tech, a full cure was almost impossible.
Still, since Lane and Jefferson both hinted Dogtown might have the right tech, it was worth checking out.
And if he secured legitimate status, he'd gain access to restricted tech—companies would line up to support him.
But curing his condition wouldn't be easy, no matter what.
Leo stared at the ruined medical center, thoughts racing—
"Let's go. First stop, Vik's clinic. I need to know what I'm dealing with."
Jackie and V exchanged a look, then silently followed.
The method for tumor removal was simple: just cut. Remove the tumor.
Normally, you'd biopsy each excised piece. If the cells checked out, you'd stop.
But Leo's cell DNA was too unstable—every test came back abnormal.
So even with Vik's cutting-edge nanomachine surgical table, traditional resection was still nearly impossible.
Radiotherapy, microwave, or radiofrequency ablation—all different tools, but the same problem: without pinpointing the faulty genes, they couldn't know if they'd eliminated all cancer cells.
They could only cut on guesswork.
The clinic was quiet during the procedure—
Vik finished his last incision, stitched Leo up, and let out a sigh of relief. Removing his glasses, he said with a wistful tone:
"I remember the first time we worked together—it was remote. I even told V you weren't all that reliable. Never thought the city would be full of your stories now."
The anesthesia dulled Leo's motor skills but not his mind.
Still lying on the bed, he scanned the clinic.
Same old Vik's place. A few new gadgets Leo had asked him to buy, but otherwise unchanged.
Almost like the very first time he'd walked in.
"What's your plan?"
"There's word Dogtown's getting a batch of advanced equipment. If we land our next job right, we can walk in there under Night City's name and find a solution."
"Dogtown, huh? Dangerous place."
"Say…" V leaned on a chair backward, arms crossed over the backrest. "I've still got over a million in my account. You sure you don't want to see what that could buy?"
"I've got nearly another million myself!" Jackie raised his hand. "That's almost three million together!"
"You two are getting cocky." Leo chuckled.
That kind of money was more than enough to live large.
Two street kids had never dreamed of pulling in that much cash.
But for Leo's situation? If he went to a corp for help, sure—maybe they could save him. But the price would be far above a few million.
First, the disease was hard to treat. Second, corpo "tailored rescue" services would charge him an even steeper price based on his identity.
And worse—the city's crisis was escalating, and he couldn't just focus on his own issues.
Things were heating up in Marvel, too.
His own life—and everything he wanted to protect—was hanging by a thread.
Leo rose from the bed. "But this money isn't enough. In Dogtown, they sell gear that goes for billions.
This much—better to keep it for living better. As for me—I'll need a few more jobs."
"Fair enough."
Jackie grinned and held out a fist.
Leo and V smiled, bumping fists with him.
As Vik cleaned his tools, his eyes drifted to the screen still playing a boxing match—
That fight, where his favorite boxer had inexplicably lost.
He shut off the TV, sat down, and folded his arms, watching the three young people.
And in his heart, he thought:
Somehow… no matter how bad things get… this kid always makes you feel like he'll come out on top.