The night was eerily quiet in Dogtown, save for the distant rumble of armored hovercrafts patrolling the skies. The faint hum of their engines blended with the sharp cry of the Netherhounds' horns echoing from the fortress walls. Beneath this heavy atmosphere, William staggered forward, one hand pressed tightly against the bloody stump of his arm.
His cybernetic grafts had saved him from bleeding out entirely. Thin mechanical tendrils had coiled automatically, constricting ruptured veins to keep him alive, but the pain was indescribable—an endless fire coursing through his nerves. Each step was a battle against darkness tugging at the edges of his vision.
Even so, he kept walking. He refused to collapse.
His holo-interface flickered before his eyes. The line he had been desperately calling for finally clicked open, connecting him to the one man who might decide his fate.
---
The Call
"Mr. Hands," William rasped, forcing strength into his voice. "Finally done ignoring me?"
On the other side, the familiar, calm tone of Mr. Hands flowed out, as smooth as if they were discussing the weather. "You're quite persistent, my friend. Very capable, too. With skills like yours, you're well-suited to this line of work. But let me be clear—Hansen wants this entire incident buried. Not a word escapes. I trust you understand."
He even had the audacity to clap softly, as though applauding William's endurance. His voice carried no concern, no hint of guilt.
William's bloodshot eyes narrowed. This bastard really thinks I'll play along.
"I understand perfectly," William spat, teeth clenched against the pain. "But tell me, Wade Brick… do you really think no one else knows?"
The name cut sharper than any blade. For the first time, silence fell on the other end of the line.
---
Breaking the Facade
William's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Curious, aren't you? Wondering how I know your real name, the one you buried with your old life?"
The image of Mr. Hands on the holo-display faltered. His ever-calm expression hardened, his breathing growing heavier.
William pressed on, like a predator cornering its prey. "You climbed high, didn't you? An executive of Pedro Petrochemical—until they threw you under the bus. Used you as a pawn in their power games. And now look at you, dressed up as Hansen's middleman, a corporate dog in Dogtown."
Hands' mask cracked further. He was no longer the untouchable broker who had manipulated the city's undercurrents. He was a man staring into the abyss of his own secrets, secrets William now wielded like blades.
"You want a retirement on Taiping Island?" William sneered. "A quiet life with a family, pretending this cesspool never existed? You think anyone gets that kind of ending here?"
---
Pushing Him to the Edge
Hands' face darkened, his calm veneer shattered. "Young man, your past means nothing. Do you really think you can threaten me?"
William chuckled through the agony. This guy actually thinks he can still talk down to me?
"Threaten you?" William's voice grew colder. "I'm just stating facts. Let's see… You've been propping up two of Hansen's officers, haven't you? Gago and Bennett. If Hansen finds out you've been secretly praying for his downfall, how long do you think you'll survive in the Sapphire Blue kennel?"
Hands said nothing. His silence spoke louder than words.
"And then there's Cuba," William added with venom. "You've been in contact with them far too often. What would Hansen say if he knew you were whispering with outsiders while playing loyal servant?"
Every word peeled away another layer of Hands' armor. For the first time, the spider who had spun countless webs in Dogtown found himself caught.
---
The Ultimatum
Hands' voice finally broke. "Friend… that's enough."
"Who the hell is your friend?" William snapped. His body trembled, not just from the pain, but from the thrill of finally turning the tables. "You have two choices. One, go to Hansen and confess everything I just told you, then pray he spares you. Two, cut ties with Baozhanqing. Make your stance clear, and figure out how to stop Hansen's plans. And on top of that—figure out how to keep me alive."
Hands glared through the holo, but William didn't stop.
"Oh, and I've made copies of all your information. A few hackers might have them already. My life is the key—if I die, those files go straight to Hansen. So tell me, Hands, how does it feel to be the one on a leash for once?"
His voice trembled from exhaustion, but the fury behind his words was undeniable. For the first time in a long time, William felt a surge of something rare—vindication. Revenge.
It was intoxicating.
---
A Broken Middleman
Hands' composure crumbled completely. The calculating broker, always one step ahead, now found himself outmaneuvered by a bloodied, half-dead young man.
Finally, he exhaled slowly. "Calm down. Tell me your location. My people will pick you up. I'll guarantee your safety."
William laughed, harsh and bitter. "Pick me up? Do I look stupid? No—you'll find me three escape routes out of Dogtown. And you'll transfer me a hundred thousand euros. Every time Hansen's men or your people close in on me, I send your information straight to him."
The demand hung in the air like a blade.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Then, Hands' expression twisted, and he grudgingly agreed. Moments later, William's account pinged. The funds had arrived. One hundred thousand euros—clean.
"Once you leave Dogtown," Hands said, his tone like ice, "don't come back."
William grinned, teeth stained with blood. "Oh, that's not necessarily true. You're angry now, already plotting how to get rid of me. But I like to travel. Who knows? Maybe I'll drop by Pacifica someday. Until then—goodbye."
With that, he cut the line.
---
Collapse
As the holo-screen flickered off, William's adrenaline drained away. The quiet night pressed in once more. Pain tore through him in relentless waves. The horns of the Netherhounds echoed, Colonel Hansen's rallying cries blared in the distance, and the roar of hovercraft engines shook the air.
His body gave out. Knees hit the ground, blood soaking the dirt beneath him.
But William wasn't done yet. Not completely. With trembling fingers, he dug through his interface, pulling up the contact information of a ripperdoc he'd once spoken to in the stadium's black market. If he could just hire him for transport—just make it there alive—
The weeds rustled.
William froze. His head jerked toward the sound, but his vision was swimming. Still, he saw them. Shiny high heels. Slender ankles exposed beneath tailored suit trousers.
A corpo? His heart sank. Not another one. Not now.
He forced his head up, and through his haze, caught a glimpse of her. A woman. Tall, sharp, exuding the cold precision of corporate steel. And, strangely, beautiful.
So this is it, William thought bitterly. I got my revenge… and now, before I die, I get to see the face of the corpo dog sent to execute me.
"Who… are you?" he muttered, before his eyes rolled back and the world turned black.
---
The Encounter
The woman frowned down at him, her voice low and irritated. "Damn. You can still walk after this?"
She crouched, the faint whir of servos audible as she extended a prosthetic arm. With one effortless motion, she hoisted William's limp body as if he weighed nothing.
"Hey," she said sharply, patting his cheek. "Can you hear me? Wake up."
William stirred faintly, nodding in his half-conscious state.
The woman studied him with narrowed eyes. "Shit. You're going to die at this rate."
For a brief moment, she hesitated. Then, in a voice colder than the night air, she introduced herself.
"Arasaka Counterintelligence," she said. "My name is—"
Her lips curved into the faintest of smirks.
"V."
---
Notes
Mr. Hands' backstory is canon, not invented by the author.
Wade Brick was once a senior executive of Petrochemical, used as a pawn in corporate wars before reinventing himself as Mr. Hands. Cold-blooded, calculating, and pragmatic, he thrives in Dogtown as Hansen's middleman.