"They killed our tribesmen. They must pay the price," Saul growled, his voice low and brimming with fury as he glared at Leon Black.
Leon, calm and unmoved, replied with a relaxed tone, "And you've killed plenty too. Plus, you've gained valuable spoils. A hovercar like that? Even wrecked, it's worth millions of euros. The salvageable tech alone could elevate your tribe's strength by an entire tier."
He stepped closer, eyes cool. "Let's not waste time with blood. How about we each give the other a little face? You let them go, and I let you go. Deal?"
"Damn it! What are you, some corpo mutt?!" Panam shouted, her anger boiling over.
But before anyone could respond, a scream cut through the tense air.
Ah!
A tribal warrior was sliced clean in half—so fast, barely anyone saw the strike. Blood sprayed across the cracked pavement.
"Once. Twice. But not thrice," Leon said coldly, his voice echoing strangely. "If any of you bark again, none of you are leaving here."
He floated slowly out from a shattered window—floating, not jumping or stepping.
He hovered above them like a ghost in the night sky.
"Shit! What is this guy?!" one of the tribe members cried out.
Even Johnny Silverhand, the digital rebel haunting V's mind, cursed aloud. "What the hell, V?! That's no damn tech I've seen."
Leon smirked at the sea of shocked faces below. "Never seen an anti-gravity system before?"
Hovercars could use electromagnetic systems for levitation—everyone knew that. So was it really such a stretch to apply that tech to a human body? If you added electromagnetic propulsion boosters, flying like Superman wasn't that far-fetched.
But very few bodies could handle that kind of integrated stress, and the power consumption was absurd. Not exactly practical in a real fight. Still, for shock value?
Perfect.
Weapons lowered. Hostile glares dimmed. The sudden display had stunned the entire camp into silence.
"Now... shall we talk?" Leon floated back to the ground, extending a hand toward Saul.
Saul hesitated, then walked with him to a corner of the battlefield. The two exchanged quiet words. Eventually, Leon passed him a small data drive—unreadable from this distance—and the two parted ways.
"Let's go," Saul said to his people, waving his hand.
"Chief! But they—!" Panam protested.
"We'll talk about this when we're back at camp!" Saul cut her off sharply. "Think of our people!"
Looking around at the frightened faces of the remaining tribesmen—and the two bodies they were forced to leave behind—Panam clenched her fists in frustration but obeyed.
She turned and walked off with the others.
Leon watched her leave, then turned his attention to V, who still hadn't moved.
"Aren't you going too?" he asked, arching a brow. "Or do you actually want to fight me?"
Johnny stirred within V's mind. "God, I'd love to punch that smug bastard."
But V held her ground. "I want to ask Herman a few questions."
She couldn't take the man away, not with Leon here. But questions? That might still be possible.
"The Kang Tao cleanup crew will be here in five minutes," Leon said, already turning away. "That should be enough time."
Back in the control room, Shuya sat with her back against the wall, a gun in her lap. She'd already bandaged her wound and was alert, calm. When she saw Leon and V step inside, her eyes narrowed, ready for trouble. Then recognition dawned—this woman had knocked her out earlier.
But there was no more fighting. The matter was settled.
Leon appreciated that Shuya didn't come charging at him full of revenge. She stayed quiet. Professional. Exactly what he liked.
"Mr. Anders," Leon said with a gesture, "this is Ms. V. She has something she'd like to discuss."
Leon sat down in a corner, flipping his phone open. Probably playing a game.
Anders—tall, thin, gaunt-faced—studied V for a moment. He assumed she must be someone close to Leon, so he didn't bother putting on any airs.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I've got a biochip in my head. It's messing with my brain. I want it out."
V had no time for pleasantries.
Anders raised a brow. "Why not just get a new one? Can't believe a prototype like that would end up on the street. Yorinobu must be losing his mind, handing out corporate-level tech to gutter-level nobodies."
"What? You think only rich people deserve access to this stuff?"
"They don't understand a damn thing about the tech. Might as well give it to chimps."
V didn't bite. "This chip's not ordinary. It was stolen from Yorinobu. My ripperdoc said it can't be removed."
Anders froze. "You stole that chip?"
He stared at her like she was a ticking bomb. "That's an experimental chip. That project wasn't even finished when I left Arasaka. And you've already booted it up?!"
"Is it really that different from what's on the market?"
"Of course it is! Earlier generations could only store a digital echo of your personality—like a digital tombstone. This one... this one transfers your imprint into a new host. It bypasses consciousness."
"You mean... resurrection?" V asked, her voice tight.
"Yes."
"And me?"
"That's the real puzzle." Anders leaned forward, fascinated. "You must have died. But only your body died. The chip reactivated your mind, which means—right now—you've got two consciousnesses in your brain."
His excitement was growing by the second. "This is groundbreaking! This chip could rewrite the definition of life!"
"Well," V muttered, "I just want to get it out."
Anders smirked. "Let me run a scan. Only way I can see how much damage has already been done."
He held out a neural link.
"Johnny?" V asked in her head.
"Let him look," Johnny replied. "We don't have many other options."
With permission granted, Anders connected to V's neural system. His eyes widened the deeper he went. His fingers twitched in anticipation.
"This is insane!" he breathed. "Absolutely incredible!"
He unplugged, staring at her like a golden goose. "Your nerve cells are off the charts. Supercharged, hyper-evolving. But your brain—your meat brain—can't keep up. You're degrading fast."
"So I'm dying," V said flatly.
"Not just dying. You're being overwritten."
Anders crossed his arms. "All I can offer is a contact—a Swedish doctor, someone who'll make your passing easier."
"Gee, thanks."
"You are still in the experimental phase. So how the hell do you know I'll die for sure?"
Anders paused. "The scan was clear. There's no known way to reverse this. The chip's primary function is to resurrect a stored soul by rebuilding it over a host. If I may... who's the other consciousness?"
"Johnny Silverhand."
Anders paled. "Then it's hopeless. That guy's a powder keg. You'll be lucky to make it another month."
"Looks like I'm still famous," Johnny said dryly.
"If you want to try consciousness stripping," Anders offered, "I could reach out to my contacts at Kang Tao. There's a clinician who might try it. But no guarantees you'll survive."
V's fists clenched. "You just want to sell me out to the corporations, don't you? Dress it up all you want, but that's what this is!"
Anders shrugged. "If that's how you see it, fine. But truth is, you already know the most advanced tech lives in corporate vaults. If you want to survive, you'll have to deal with them eventually."
Leon stood up, putting his phone away. "Come with us to Kang Tao. With my identity clearance, you might get lucky. Even if you die, your data could be preserved for future breakthroughs."
"And if I'm really lucky," V muttered, "there's some miracle update that saves me."
"Exactly," Leon nodded. "There's always a chance."
"Time's up," he added. "Let's go."
V inhaled deeply and stood. There was nothing else to do here.
Originally, she'd come hoping for blueprints, design files, anything that might help her claw back control.
But Leon's presence erased all her leverage.
There was no deal. No negotiation.
Only cold, clinical survival.
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