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Alright, alright, we don't need to get all emotional here!" Mrs. Wells wiped her eyes, trying to hide the redness. A smile broke across her face as she turned to the others. "Let's throw a party at the Wild Wolf Bar tonight! To celebrate the return of my son, Jack!"
She turned toward one of the younger men. "Ogul, make sure to call all the middlemen and priests from the Vanodia Gang and our sister gangs. I want everyone here to celebrate!"
"Got it! Mrs. Wells, you're amazing!" one of them shouted.
"Haha, no problem!" another chimed in.
The younger members of the Vanodia Gang erupted into cheers, clapping and raising their hands with enthusiasm.
Beep—! Beep-beep—!!
Suddenly, a communication device on Ogul's hip lit up and buzzed violently. His expression changed as his pupils flashed red for a moment—cybernetic enhancements responding to the call.
"Hold on a minute," Ogul said quickly. He took a few steps back and answered the call. "Yo, Arad. What's going on?"
A harsh voice burst through the device. "Dammit, Ogul! It's those punks from the Sixth Street Gang again!"
Arad sounded furious. "They've brought their boys into our Vanodia territory and they're trying to poach our business! These bastards are getting bolder!"
Ogul's expression darkened. Gunfire crackled in the background, sharp and rapid.
Da-da-da-da!!
The sound was unmistakable—an active shootout.
"They're attacking now?" Ogul asked, his tone urgent.
"They're not backing down this time!" Arad barked. "Bring everyone! Let's give these bastards a show they won't forget!"
Without hesitation, Ogul ended the call and snatched up the firearm resting on the table. He waved his hand sharply.
"Brothers! Let's go! It's time to work!"
Without missing a beat, the Vanodia gang members around him stood up in unison, each grabbing their weapons. They understood instantly. No words needed.
Jack, who had been sitting beside Ogul and sipping quietly from a beer bottle, furrowed his brow.
"Ogul, what's going on?" he asked.
Ogul chuckled, spinning his pistol before securing it in his holster. "Same old nonsense. The Sixth Street Gang's acting up again. Trying to muscle in on our turf. This isn't even the first time this month."
He cracked his knuckles and glanced around. "But this time? We're going to show them that they've gone too far. You don't just walk into Vanodia turf and think you're walking out the same way."
Another gang member slammed a fresh mag into his weapon and growled, "Those scumbags killed two of our brothers last time. They're not getting away with it again."
"Exactly! Let's settle every grudge today—new and old!" another said, his voice heated.
"Let's go! Let's blast them back to the slums!" someone shouted.
In a matter of seconds, the whole bar transformed into a war party. Guns were cocked, safeties clicked off, adrenaline surged.
The Vanodia Gang wasn't just some petty street outfit. They were family. The bonds between them ran deeper than blood. They'd lived through gunfights, crackdowns, betrayals, and raids together. But that same fierce loyalty was also why Mrs. Wells had begged Jack to leave the gang years ago.
She knew the truth—
This life didn't end in retirement. It ended in an alley with a bullet between the eyes.
Street wars weren't like the movies. There were no heroes here. Just people trying to live another day in a city that chewed up the weak and the loyal alike.
Suddenly, Jack stood up.
"Let me come with you," he said calmly.
The room went quiet.
Everyone stopped in their tracks and turned to stare at him. Jack's face was composed, but his eyes burned with something fierce. Ogul raised an eyebrow.
"Jack, you just got back," Ogul said, grinning. "Stay here with your mom. Let us handle this."
"That's right," one of the others added. "You don't need to risk your life. We know you've always had our backs. We'll handle the Sixth Street thugs."
"Yeah, sit back, enjoy a drink. When we come back, we'll have a proper feast. Just like old times."
Several gang members clapped Jack on the back, their smiles warm. They didn't want him involved. Not again. Not after he got out.
Jack chuckled lightly. "If this were the old days, I would've agreed. I'd never get dragged into Vanodia stuff again."
He paused and looked at the weapon resting on the table. Then he picked it up and checked the mag like second nature.
"But this time…"
His voice was low and resolute.
"I have to go. If I don't deal with the Sixth Street Gang now, I won't be able to explain myself to David."
The moment he said that name—David—everyone froze.
The room was filled with exchanged glances. No one knew how to respond. Jack's tone wasn't angry. It was… burdened.
"Jack," Mrs. Wells finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you really want to go?"
Jack turned to her, his expression solemn. "Mom, I have to."
He placed a hand on her shoulder gently. "I forgot to tell you earlier. I didn't just come back to Heywood to see you. I came here on a mission."
Mrs. Wells stared into his eyes. Her lips trembled, but she didn't say anything. She knew when her son had made up his mind. The look on his face—it wasn't just about gang loyalty. It was about something deeper. Something personal.
"David was the one who pulled me back from the edge," Jack continued. "When I was lost in the chaos, when I didn't know what I was anymore… he gave me a reason to fight again. And now, this mission—it's not just for me, it's for him too."
Ogul crossed his arms. "Then we ride together."
"Let's go clean house," another said, nodding toward Jack.
The mood in the bar shifted. It was no longer about revenge—it was about solidarity.
They weren't just going to settle scores. They were going to send a message.
As the Vanodia members filed out the door, weapons loaded and eyes cold, Jack lingered for just a second longer. He looked at his mother, who stood at the entrance with her hands tightly clenched.
"Don't worry, Mom," he said softly. "I'm not the same kid who ran reckless through Heywood. I've changed."
"You're still my son," she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.
Then Jack turned and followed the others into the dark streets of Night City.
The roar of engines echoed as a dozen modified vehicles lined up. The chrome glinted under the neon haze. The city hummed with danger, but also with purpose.
As they sped off toward the Sixth Street incursion zone, the only thing on Jack's mind was one thought:
"David, I won't fail you."