"Mr. Neo," a cool, composed voice sounded through the holo-link. "This is Meredith Stout. Have you retrieved the Flathead prototype?"
The flickering blue projection of Meredith Stout appeared before Neo—expression tense, eyes cold but tired. The woman looked like she hadn't slept in days. The strain in her voice gave her away. The failure of Militech's transport operation had clearly reached the higher-ups, and now, corporate pressure was squeezing her throat like a vice.
Neo handed the crate containing the Flathead to David, then smiled faintly.
"Sorry," he said, his tone smooth and unreadable. "We didn't manage to get the Flathead."
Meredith froze. "...Excuse me?"
Her voice sharpened like a blade. "You're joking, right? Dex DeShawn hired you for this job. You took the contract. You failed to deliver. Tell me Neo, are you playing games with me? You and DeShawn in on this together?"
Neo didn't interrupt her tirade. He let her vent. Only when she ran out of steam did he finally speak, slow and steady:
"Ms. Stout, while I can't hand you the prototype, I can give you something else—a way out."
She frowned. "A way out?"
"Let me guess," Neo continued, his voice calm, confident. "Militech brass already knows about the convoy attack. You're being investigated, maybe even blamed. You're under heat from above."
Meredith didn't respond, but her silence said everything.
Neo went on, tone low but deliberate. "The Flathead's valuable. It is an experimental prototype, has a bleeding-edge AI core and very high development cost. But at the end of the day, it's still just a machine. Militech has more where that came from."
"What matters to them," he said, "isn't the hardware. It's your failure to prevent the loss. Even if you got the prototype back, you'd still be the scapegoat for a screw-up they need someone to blame."
Meredith narrowed her eyes. "So what are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting," Neo said evenly, "that I hand you the one responsible for the convoy attack."
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping lower. "Brick, the old Maelstrom boss, was overthrown. The new one, Royce, he's the idiot who gave the order to hit Militech. You can't fix the past, but you can deliver justice to your bosses."
"Imagine this," he continued. "You return to Militech with the perpetrator himself—the man responsible for their loss. They'll have their scapegoat, and you'll have your redemption."
For several long seconds, silence filled the channel.
Then Meredith exhaled softly. "...You're good, Neo."
Her expression softened—not by much, but enough. "Fine. Bring me Royce. You do that, and I'll mark the job as completed on my end. When and where?"
"Right now," Neo replied. "All Foods Factory. Back entrance."
The call ended.
When he looked up again, the whole crew was staring at him.
Neo raised an eyebrow. "...What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"
Jackie was the first to break the silence, throwing him a thumbs-up. "You, my friend, are a genius. No, wait, You're a damn legend."
Rebecca pouted. "Hey! That was my line, choom. What am I supposed to say now?"
Maine crossed his arms, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You flipped Dex's deal from one-fifty to one hundred and fifty, charmed a Militech agent before the op, handed the Flathead off to get paid, and gave Militech a head on a platter for good PR. That's… damn, that's flawless."
Dorio smirked. "I've met a lot of smooth operators in this city, but you make the rest of us look sloppy. Lucky for us, we're on your side."
Pilar pointed at him dramatically. "Yeah, man! I didn't even fully respect Maine before, but you got my chrome heart."
Lucy smiled faintly. "Everyone's improving."
Kiwi, as always, said nothing—but her faint smirk said enough.
In that moment, it became clear to everyone: Neo wasn't just another merc.
He was the axis their world had begun to spin around.
The new center of gravity.
True leadership didn't come from shouting orders—it came from quiet control, from actions that spoke louder than any threat. Neo didn't just demand loyalty; he inspired it.
He didn't force people to kneel; he made them want to follow.
And those too weak or foolish to recognize power for what it was? They weren't worth saving anyway.
Night City was a jungle. The law was simple: protect your pack, hunt the rest.
And Neo's pack was growing.
He had his people, his ground, his weapons, his women, his money—and most importantly, his momentum.
It was enough for now.
He turned to his crew. "Jackie, take the Flathead to Afterlife. Warm up the scene. Bring David—kid needs to see what real Night City looks like."
"Got it, choom," Jackie said with a grin, slinging the crate onto his shoulder.
"Maine," Neo continued, "get your people packed. You're moving bases tomorrow. Once you're done, meet Jackie and David at Afterlife. We're making it official."
"Understood," Maine replied with a nod.
Neo gave a final glance around the group, then grabbed Royce by what was left of his collar and dragged him toward the back exit.
…
All Foods Factory – Rear Access.
Outside, the world was bright with headlights and humming engines.
Militech had come in force.
Heavily armed troops ringed the perimeter. Combat drones hovered overhead, spotlights cutting through the darkness. Auto-turrets tracked movement, ready to fire.
Front and center stood a woman in a tailored combat suit, the glow of the armored car's headlights haloing her figure—Meredith Stout.
When Neo emerged, dragging Royce's mangled body behind him, the soldiers froze.
Even the drones hesitated.
They all recognized him—Royce, Maelstrom's infamously psychotic boss—reduced to a mutilated husk, dragged out like garbage.
Meredith's lips parted slightly in disbelief. "Holy shit…"
Neo stopped before her. "Ms. Stout. Care to verify the delivery?"
She shook her head, almost smiling. "No need. Royce and I… we're well-acquainted."
Her gaze swept over Royce's trembling form. The man's eyes met hers, full of terror. He knew this was the end.
She turned her focus back to Neo. "Since you didn't finalize the trade with Maelstrom, I assume you still have the funds I transferred earlier. May I have my chip back?"
Neo shook his head slowly. "About that… we did make the trade. Money's gone. He took it, then doubled the price and drew on me. I didn't have much of a choice."
Royce, bleeding and furious, shook his head desperately.
Neo shrugged. "See? He disagrees. But bad guys rarely admit to bad deals."
A wet gurgle burst from Royce's throat—a noise halfway between rage and a dying scream.
Meredith laughed. Just once. Then she straightened, face cold again. "Fair enough."
She motioned to her team. "Secure him."
Two soldiers stepped forward, hoisting Royce's broken form into the back of the transport.
Then she turned to Neo. "Mr. Neo," she said quietly, almost with respect. "It's been a pleasure. I suspect… we'll meet again."
Neo smiled faintly. "Count on it."
The armored convoy roared to life, engines growling as it pulled away. Meredith's vehicle lingered for a second longer—her gaze meeting Neo's one last time—before she turned and drove off into the neon night.
Neo stood in the glow of the retreating headlights, the chaos of the factory behind him, and the city's hum ahead.
Night City was watching. And for the first time, it was starting to whisper his name.