Do you know where all of Night City's legends end up?
In the grave.
Who buries them—
"Smasher! It's Adam Smasher!!"
Boom! With an ear-splitting sonic crack that tore through the air, a monstrous black metal body plummeted from the chimney top. Like a battering ram, it slammed through the reinforced concrete roof of the old factory. The walls exploded, smoke and debris bursting outward…
In an instant, gunfire and explosions flared. Flames surged, distorting the surveillance camera feeds.
"Stop gawking and run, damn it!"
Maine dragged Dorio out of the narrow alley, dove into a beat-up van, and floored the gas pedal.
The van lurched forward. Maine roared into the team comms channel: "Kiwi, get Pilar and Rebecca out of there! And make sure not to trigger Arasaka's counter-surveillance—we've got no friendly IFF tags with them!"
Beep beep.
[Kiwi: Don't need your reminder. Already sent.]
In the team's encrypted channel, Lucy continued uploading audio-visual combat footage she had captured.
The audio was a chaotic mess—shouts mixed with the crack-crack of gunfire and the squelch of blood spurting. The sound and video were heavily degraded by interference and long-range transmission.
Then came the piercing whine of an electromagnetic rail weapon—followed by sudden silence.
In the fuzzy surveillance footage:
Adam Smasher stepped out of the smoke—wearing a heavy exosuit marked with Arasaka's clover emblem—walking through wreckage littered with bullet holes and mangled limbs.
A weapon originally designed as a stationary suppression gun for armored vehicles—a massive anti-materiel machine gun—was slung one-handed like a submachine gun.
Broken netrunner chairs, portable rigs, switches, and monitors were scattered like trash. Only one cyborg, flung through the factory wall, was still barely moving.
His face was drenched in blood. One cyber-eye had exploded. His combat suit was shredded, exposing heavily damaged implants underneath. His chest's synthetic muscles and subdermal armor were caved in. One gorilla arm torn off. The Mantis Blade mount on his knee blown to bits. Blood and milky-white implant maintenance fluid leaked out as sparks crackled.
Then came a clean shot—his head blasted clean off his shoulders.
Adam Smasher turned. That face—ghastly pale, like a mask made of corpse flesh plastered on a metal skull.
He raised his gun and fired.
Bang!
Zzzzzzt—
The feed cut out.
Splash! Gasping, Lucy jolted upright from the ice-filled tub, no longer connected to the data stream, just panting heavily.
"You didn't seriously try hacking into that freak Smasher, did you?" Kiwi, now dressed in her underwear, tossed Lucy's clothes over.
"I'm not that stupid." Catching her clothes, Lucy shook her head while slipping into her undergarments. "Arasaka's job is done. What about Faraday?"
"Maine's got it handled," Falco replied.
While packing up monitors, the portable rig, and other support gear, Falco gave Lucy a thumbs-up.
"Lucy, you've got to trust Maine's experience as a seasoned cyber-merc. Right about now, he's probably cussing Faraday out..."
...
Meanwhile, in a secure house in Heywood's Vista del Rey, curtains drawn—
Riiiing.
[Incoming Call: Maine]
Beep—connection established.
"Faraday, fuck your mother! What the hell kind of gig is this?! You call this a heist? This is war, damn it! It's all full-on military-grade forces! If you've got the guts, come take a look at Arasaka Waterfront yourself—stealing data? Arasaka'll turn you into paste before you even sniff it..."
Faraday's fourth eye twitched, the orange-red glow of the comms interface pulsing. A devout believer in megacorp-style neo-militarism and authoritarianism, the mercenary's cursing turned his expression increasingly grim.
"Maine, do you know who you're talking to—"
"I'm cussing you out, you bastard—do you even know Adam Smasher showed up?!"
Maine brutally cut off Faraday's words.
"It was Adam. Fucking. Smasher! Translate that, you piece of shit! What the hell does 'Adam Smasher' mean to you?! You left out the most critical intel—I'm done! The pay doesn't match the risk. You expect me to fight Smasher? Screw that! And don't even dream of getting your deposit back. Here, take a look at the latest intel on Arasaka Waterfront—you watch this shit yourself..."
Beep.
With that, Maine ended the call.
Snap.
Crushing his cigarette, Faraday's face turned ashen. He was so furious, he almost ripped off his own synthetic skin.
But recalling Maine's final words, he cooled down just enough to open the data file attached to Maine's message.
Bzzt… Boom…
Watching the footage of blood and limbs flying, Faraday took several deep breaths. As much as he loved to cozy up to power and trample the weak, even he had to admit—Maine was right. Even if Maine publicly announced at the Afterlife that he was canceling the job, no one would blame him.
Because that was Adam Smasher...
There are levels to legends.
If Rogue, the owner of Afterlife, was considered a legend because of her past and her current role as Night City's top fixer—
Then Adam Smasher was a legend among legends. The maker and undertaker of Night City's legends.
A name built purely on real combat, brute force, and sheer slaughter.
Among cyber-solos, perhaps only Morgan Blackhand could rival him.
Faraday? Just a fixer from Santo Domingo—who the hell did he think he was, sending people to go up against Adam Smasher?
The deposit was gone. And for now, he couldn't retaliate against Maine either.
It was clearly a breach of protocol. The job's danger level was grossly misrepresented. Discovering that mid-operation justified a unilateral withdrawal. In the cyber-merc world, that was considered fair.
Faraday then made a few more calls.
Of the four other merc teams he'd duped, three were completely unresponsive.
One picked up—only to scream curses.
Judging by the background noise, they were fleeing for their lives.
Click—call ended. Nothing more to say.
Lighting another cigarette, Faraday sat and thought for a while. Then he activated another encrypted comm chip in his net-access pod, dialing his contact at Militech.
Beep beep.
Call connected.
Exhaling a puff of white smoke, Faraday spoke with frustration:
"You unleash this level of military firepower and don't give me a heads-up? How the hell am I supposed to steal anything?! Even Adam Smasher's there. Unless you get me someone like Morgan Blackhand, this job's impossible!"
"If we had Morgan Blackhand, you think we'd leave any meat on the bone for you?"
The Militech contact snorted.
"The whole reason we hired you is because it's hard. We're not rushing you for delivery. Try. We've got time. No way Arasaka keeps all those troops at Waterfront forever. This whole deployment is dancing on the edge of international scrutiny. Washington had to hold its nose and accept it."
Clearly, he had anticipated Faraday's complaints.
Faraday: "Didn't you guys just lose a squad of elite agents too? Don't you care?"
"Don't measure corporate strategic resolve with your petty vision."
The contact's tone remained calm.
"Luring out Adam Smasher was valuable in itself. Don't rush. Our collaboration is long-term. Let Arasaka lock things down—they can keep guarding that place all they want. When construction begins on their new integrated research center in Night City—that's when we strike. Headquarters is seriously committed to this shipment…"
"Do a good job, Faraday. The best is yet to come… Oh, and one more thing—I almost forgot: the company has approved everything you asked for."
Beep beep. With that, the call ended.
"..."
Faraday's face looked incredibly sour.
"Pretentious prick."
Then he stood up and made a return call.
Maine's crew had reacted first, delivered intel, and escaped intact. That counted for something. The ability to flee was still a form of competence—it was worth maintaining ties.
"This is Faraday. Maine, I was caught off guard by this commission too..."
...
Meanwhile, at Corporate Plaza, inside the Militech building.
On the Intelligence Division floor—
Having just ended the call with Faraday, the Militech handler in charge of fixer intel operations in Night City rubbed his face and temples, looking bitter.
Was he in a rush?
Yes—very.
"Fuck, the Foreign Affairs Bureau is useless! Adam Smasher returned to Night City and we didn't detect a damn thing... Another agent squad down. The intel we got... ugh."
Dizzy from overthinking, his stomach churned. He quickly got up and splashed cold water on his face in the restroom.
But as soon as he bent over—his mouth flooded with acid. Blrgh! He vomited.
"Cough, cough..."
His body's health diagnostic implant beeped. He mumbled, "Is the stress getting to me..."
Returning to his desk, he popped some blood pressure meds and pulled up the mission report for this reconnaissance op.
Bribes for fixers, the cost of lost agents—all company expenses. Headquarters needed a loss report.
He read through it again and again. Sighed. The internal performance rating wasn't great.
Beep beep.
A new email popped up on his terminal. Still writing the report, he glanced at it—and was immediately drawn in.
[Sender: Baskin Undercover]
[Subject: We regret to inform you that your commercial order has failed…]
Another piece of bad news.
Just his luck lately.
"Fuckin' Arasaka."
He cursed under his breath. From a nearby drawer, he pulled out a functional stimulant, took a hit, and his eyes lit up with orange-red glow.
"It's me, Intelligence Division. Urgent report. No, not about the troop build-up at Arasaka Waterfront… Sorry, sir, our embedded agent at the Arasaka Auto Plant in Watson was uncovered by Arasaka Counter-Intelligence..."
Routine reporting complete.
After submitting the checked damage report, the man leaned back and opened the Militech Intelligence Division's main interface.
A new assessment assignment had arrived from above:
—"Assessment: To better protect citizens' lives and property at the Night City border, evaluate the feasibility of expanding or establishing new border checkpoints"—
[Source: Washington, Militech Virginia HQ]
"Border walls... Looks like HQ wants to increase troops too..."
Ignoring the formal bureaucratic language, he opened the attached subpages.
——"Concede partially, advance strategically: Using Arasaka's deployment at the Night City border checkpoints to spread their forces"——
"Force Arasaka to split their troops. HQ is still obsessed with Vela Adelheid's Sonnentreppe Project. In that case… Faraday can't quit. I need him to keep throwing more desperados into the mix to keep Arasaka Security guessing..."
"No, one Faraday isn't enough. If too many mercs die, he'll lose influence. I need more fixers..."
...
Konpeki Plaza.
The opulent amethyst banquet hall.
Silken red carpets blanketed the floor. The domed ceiling sparkled with gilded crystal chandeliers. Glittering lights and overlapping shadows spilled down like a galaxy, crafting a dreamlike atmosphere.
2076/1/24 | 19:42
The banquet had entered its latter half.
Well-dressed men and women in luxury attire mingled in twos and threes, engaging in polite and lively conversation—be it playful, serious, or brooding.
Without exception, every conversation included the bombshell confirmation of Arasaka's troop surge in Night City.
What had occurred at Arasaka Waterfront had already spread, stirring murmurs among the guests. For now, it had caused quite a stir.
But ultimately, it was all just... talk. For Washington and Militech, it changed little. Their position was still worse off. No one wanted to see them reunify.
Near the center stage at the head table, Vela withdrew her gaze. Her indigo eyes shimmered with orange-red data streams.
[Jimmy: Director, the sweep mission is complete. Per Counter-Intelligence Division coordinates and our contact's cover, Adam Smasher swept the northern industrial zone of Watson. In addition to Militech's agent team, he wiped out a Baskin Undercover support squad.]
Baskin—an espionage firm specializing in corporate spying in the cyberpunk world.
"Understood. After the banquet, have Smasher report to Konpeki Plaza. Also, have Jenkins submit a full briefing on the mission."
Vela nodded.
"Security Division? Militech's meddling again?" Sitting beside her was Michiko Arasaka.
Leg crossed, still rocking that blue mohawk, Michiko glanced at Vela thoughtfully.
Vela smiled. "Interested?"
"Hard pass."
Michiko waved her hand dismissively. "But that new Arasaka Integrated Research Center in Night City? Saburo really likes you, Vela… I'm tempted to recruit you into Danger Gal... Huh, what're you doing?"
Before she finished, she saw Vela abruptly stand and walk toward a far corner of the banquet hall.
There, flanked by guards radiating serious military energy, sat a bald, burly white man. His body was heavily cyber-enhanced. Despite the upscale occasion, he wore only a black V-neck T-shirt and combat pants.
Michiko recognized him.
Kurt Hansen. Victor of the recent Santo Domingo gang war. The boss of Dogtown.
Oh? Just beat Militech's new pet? Here to court Arasaka's favor?