"Not even affiliated with an organization?" V curled her lip as her cyberware scanned the would-be robbers. Pathetic. Just some desperate punks with cheap guns. Was Night City getting this chaotic?
"Hands up! Give us your money!" the gang's leader shouted, his pistol trembling in his hands. His voice cracked with fear.
The other two kept nervously glancing around the dingy restaurant. They weren't worried about the NCPD showing up—this part of town rarely saw blue lights. What scared them more were gangs—real gangs—crashing the party.
V sighed. She was tired, she wanted to sleep, and she really didn't have time for amateurs.
"If you leave now, I'll pretend this didn't happen," she said flatly.
"Shut the hell up! Just g-give me the money!" the leader snapped, raising his gun higher. His hands still shook.
"Ugh… you don't even know how to use a gun," V muttered in disgust.
In one smooth motion, she pulled her pistol and fired three precise shots—center mass, each one a kill. The leader dropped with a shocked gasp, followed immediately by his two lackeys.
Blood sprayed across the grimy walls. Diners screamed in panic.
Bang! V fired one more round into the ceiling.
"Everyone shut the hell up!"
The room went dead silent. Even the sobbing stopped.
"Much better," she said coolly, holstering her pistol and walking out. In Night City, shooting civilians was still frowned upon—but gangsters and terrorists?
Nobody cared. In fact, most people cheered.
---
Intel Link-Up – Night City's Most Brutal News Show
"Oh ho ho~ Hello everyone! I'm Ruth Zheng, and welcome to today's segment of Intel Link-Up! Let's dive straight into the madness, shall we?"
Her bubbly voice echoed from every vid-screen as news rolled out like a cyber-psychosis outbreak.
"Yesterday, the Biotech factory on the Southern Ranch exploded. The sound? Absolutely deafening! Poor cattle and sheep probably pissed themselves from fear!"
After Ruth Zheng had exposed the suspicious love-hate drama between Militech and Biotech, things had spiraled fast.
Militech didn't bother hiding their intentions anymore. They deployed the Spartan Squad and, within days, had wiped out Biotech's outdoor bases. Biotech's feeble counterattacks didn't even leave a dent—proving they had no combat capacity.
Gangs and corps followed suit. Shops under Biotech's name in Night City were being ransacked at record pace—some getting hit twice in the same day.
Seeing the writing on the wall, Biotech retreated, pulling personnel and barricading themselves in their corporate headquarters within the City Center.
Elsewhere, Arasaka and Militech's transport teams were being hit hard. No survivors. Speculation ran wild—some blamed Adocado, others pointed fingers at the Night Runners.
But those who knew the truth… knew this was Militech sending a message.
---
At a dimly lit booth inside the Afterlife bar, Leon Black slowly turned off the newsfeed and glanced sideways as Claire sat down beside him.
"Trouble?" he asked without looking.
Claire grinned. "Can't I stop by just to see you?"
"A good bartender doesn't ditch her post."
"Hmm~ I'm off today."
"No wonder the 'Blue Enchantress' tasted like recycled coolant," Leon replied dryly.
Claire laughed. "You've got such a way with compliments."
Leon finished his drink and set the glass aside. "So?"
Claire pulled a small slip of paper from inside her low-cut top and handed it over. "Took a lot of gas money to find this guy."
"Double reimbursement," Leon replied without hesitation, unfolding the note.
Claire smiled. "Now that's the kind of client I like."
In Night City, intel could come from more than just corpo informants or backroom fixers. Street racers—those high-octane junkies who bolted rocket engines onto outdated muscle cars—were surprisingly reliable scouts. After all, they spent their nights tearing through every alley and backroad of the city.
About a month ago, Brick, former leader of the Maelstrom gang, had dropped a juicy rumor on Leon's lap: somewhere on the southwest coast of the Meiquan District, a cyberpsycho with legendary-grade equipment had been sighted.
It wasn't much to go on, so Leon had handed the job to Claire's crew. They were already racing across the city nightly—what was one more pit stop?
Surprisingly, the long shot had paid off.
Claire had called immediately when the sighting was confirmed. Time was critical—cyberpsychos didn't stay in one place. Miss the window, and the trail went cold.
"Think he'll be tough?" Claire asked, watching Leon tap the table in thought.
"Well, he's still wearing clothes," Leon smirked.
The deeper the cyberpsychosis, the more erratic the behavior. Naked and raging? You were dealing with full-blown insanity. But if the subject could still function—talk, think, even dress themselves—they were early-stage.
Still dangerous. But manageable.
Leon didn't mention the part about the legendary equipment. No reason to tempt Claire into reconsidering the deal or selling the info to someone else.
"Thanks. Funds transferred," he said, rising.
"Good luck," Claire called after him with a wink.
---
Inside his Avenger vehicle, Leon entered the target coordinates and leaned back in his seat. Time to think.
Biotech's downfall was happening faster than expected. Their regional general hadn't even made a statement. The entire empire was crumbling in silence.
At this point, the Biotech building in Night City was all they had left. If not for Lori—one of their rising stars—it probably would've been blown up already.
Leon muttered to himself, "Didn't think they'd fold this fast."
He filed the Biotech-Militech war under "temporarily resolved." Now, his focus shifted to Arasaka.
He needed V and Goro Takemura to move faster. Their mission—uncertain as it was—would dictate the balance between the East and West megacorps.
Leon opened a secure channel.
Beep… beep…
A young, refined voice answered. "Hello?"
"Miss Arasaka Michiko," Leon began smoothly. "Is your grandfather's body still preserved at the Arasaka Waterfront Estate?"
There was a long pause.
"Yes," Michiko replied at last. "According to tradition, the burial will take place after a month of ceremonial rest."
"I need the schedule for the funeral."
"…Why?" Michiko frowned, gazing out the window at her cherry blossom garden. The pink petals drifted gently in the wind. "What are you planning?"
"Assassinate Saburo Arasaka again," Leon said calmly.
The silence on the other end became deafening.
"…What?" Michiko's voice was barely a whisper.
"What do you think happens when a legend is profaned after death?" Leon asked. "There's only one answer: War."
He continued before she could respond.
"Militech wants to drive out all foreign corps and become America's undisputed ruler. Yorinobu Arasaka needs war to silence opposition within Arasaka. The other corps want chaos to claim bigger pieces of the pie. And President Myers? She wants total unification."
He let the implications sink in.
"Everyone's ready. They just need a spark."
"You… you're not just asking for truth," Michiko said, her breath catching. "You're trying to start a war."
Leon didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Across the city, people were sharpening knives and reloading guns.
And at the center of it all… was the man willing to pull the trigger on history itself.
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