"The weapons are here."
On the seventh day after getting back into the job circuit, the weapons V and the team had requested were finally delivered to their luxury super-skyscraper.
The shipment contained six weapons in total: five neurotoxin daggers and one thermal katana that glowed when charged.
The daggers were compact and ideal for stealth and subduing enemies—perfect for everyone on the team to carry at all times. The glowing katana? That was for V alone.
In the crew, the most interested in melee weapons were Oliver and V. Oliver had already claimed one of the neurotoxin daggers and had no interest in the katana, so V got to enjoy it solo.
After all, no way they were gonna hand it to Jack—whose preferred melee was fists in berserker mode—or to T-BUG the netrunner, or to Karl with his monowire. Teaching any of them to swing a katana would be more dangerous than useful.
And that thing wasn't exactly easy to carry. Better to spend that learning time figuring out how to hide a sawed-off smart revolver under your jacket.
V keyed in the access code and pulled the katana from the second layer of the weapons crate. The blade was exposed, its structure segmented. He pressed a hidden switch near the grip. With a distinct hum, the blade lit up in a vibrant orange glow. Just holding it, he could feel the intense heat radiating off it.
"Thermal katana," Karl said from the couch, watching the glow with amusement. "Sounds like a damn lightsaber."
"Wanna try it out?" V offered. "We don't have a private shooting range, but the gym still has that steel training post. Could slice it for a test."
Karl smirked. That post had been left by the previous gang occupants for training drills. Only Jack ever used it. Not a bad target.
"Nah, better not break our own stuff," V said, powering the blade down. "Let's grab a gig and see if I can slice a whole car in half. I saw an ad once—a guy sidestepped an incoming car and cut it top to bottom with one slash."
"Technically possible," Oliver said, walking over with a piece of bread in his mouth, "if you've got the grip strength, right material, edge alignment, and a dozen other conditions. Still sounds like an ad to me."
"Like that Zeiss scope you bought?" Jack added, joining with his own breakfast.
"You mean the one I paid five thousand eddies for? Yeah," Oliver said. "And all it did was give me a slightly clearer visual overlay. The ad claimed it boosted accuracy by 30%, canceled interference, yada yada. Total scam."
He was full of complaints. Getting burned by corpo marketing was practically a rite of passage these days. Still hurt when it happened to you.
"Could've been worse," Jack said. "They could've bricked it with bloatware or made you sign some exploitative neural access contract."
"If it had that much tech, maybe it'd actually be worth five grand," Oliver muttered.
"Next time," Karl chimed in, "maybe check the reviews first."
"You mean the reviews they filter to only show fake corpo praise?"
Jack fell silent at that, and Karl laughed.
"Don't worry. There's no such thing as flawless ratings. Rival corps are dying to dig up dirt. Read both the official hype and the sabotage reports. Somewhere in between lies the truth."
"I'll try that next time," Oliver sighed, finishing his bread. "So, Karl, any work lined up today? We cleared our queue, right?"
"Nothing at the moment," Karl said, glancing at T-BUG, still passed out. "She only naps when we're between gigs. But I did hear something about Maine's crew."
That got their attention.
"What about them?" Oliver asked.
Karl pulled up a file. "Old Cap dropped a hint during a chat. Apparently, Maine and his crew have been doing gigs for Faraday—specifically on Militech's behalf. Targeting Arasaka."
"Faraday? Militech? Against Arasaka?" Oliver frowned. Jack's expression tightened. V watched, confused.
"I know Maine's crew," V said, "but... what's the problem?"
Karl explained. Who Faraday was, what kind of fixer he was, and the job chain they'd been involved in.
"I think it's tied to that Titanium Goliath job. Militech probably wants more than just specs—maybe a full extraction. Arasaka labs, tech, personnel, you name it. Sending Maine's crew makes sense. Keeps it low-profile."
"That was the job you passed to Maine, right? Blanca was the contact?" Jack asked.
"Exactly. Blanca was Faraday's middleman. Once you connect the dots, it's obvious."
"And since our crew got exposed during the Goliath gig, sending Maine's team now minimizes risk," Oliver added, stroking his chin. "So what's your point, Karl? You worried about them?"
"Not really. Maine's squad can handle themselves. And Faraday might be scum, but he doesn't hire amateurs. I just thought I'd share the intel—got it from Cap's network."
In the end, it was all speculation. One merc crew stepping into another's gig over a hunch? Not done. Even if they were tight. That's not how Night City works. Respect and risk came hand in hand.
Sipping his milk, treating the whole topic like breakfast chatter, Karl still wondered to himself:
Let's just hope this doesn't blow up into something bigger.
.
.
.
🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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