"Holy shit, that was Adam Smasher!" Jackie breathed, stunned.
"That walking legend who crushed Johnny Silverhand and haunted Night City for fifty years. The bodies he left could fill mountains. The legends he erased could fill houses. And you—you broke his neck. That is insane."
David's eyes gleamed. "Mr. Neo, can I get your autograph? I'll stick it on my wall for motivation."
Neo shrugged, calm as a blade. "No need for all that. We've got training grounds at the our base. I'll teach you."
Rebecca laughed, clutching Neo's arm and shaking him like a human victory flag. "My hero is too awesome!" she gushed. Neo tousled her hair and pinched her cheek. The little storm was electric with joy.
...
They pulled up to the No-Tell Motel. Before stepping out, Neo opened the relic case. He transferred Johnny Silverhand's soul-data into a second, prepped case and snapped it shut. He handed the empty case and the second sealed box to Jackie.
"Jack, take this back. Hold it safe until I come for it."
Jackie accepted it like it was the holiest thing in his hands. "Got it. Safe with me."
Rebecca scowled mockingly. "If you come back injured, I'll beat you up until you learn better. That's your punishment for making me leave."
Neo smiled. "Deal." He watched the Delamain glide away and then walked toward the No-Tell's grimy entry with the empty relic case in hand. He called Lucy as he walked.
Lucy answered fast, as always. Their private layer had long since burned past civility into something softer, but work habits die hard. Her voice was cool at first, then softened when she caught herself.
"What's up?" she asked.
Neo kept his tone businesslike. "Remember that run I had you jack into the trauma studio? The one where you left a little something in the middleman's head?"
Lucy cut straight to the point. "Yeah. You going to see him? Gonna finish the job?"
"Not yet." Neo ducked into the motel and lowered his voice. "I need to know about behavior chips and monetary chips. If someone's behavior chip is fried, does that block access to their banked credits?"
Lucy didn't hesitate. "Take out the 'if' and you're done. No, money chips are separate. Behavior chips control motor coordination. Money chips route through the bio-module. So as long as the bio-module's intact, the funds remain. If you want to steal credits, hit the bio-module. But there's a trick."
She explained fast, clinical and precise. When someone's dying, the body prioritizes life-sign maintenance. All chip modules route compute to life support, thinning defenses in the bio-module. If you time it right, you can hit that window. "I just uploaded virus 757 to your device. Click it and the behavior chip fries in a blink."
Neo's corner of the world softened. "Thanks, Lucy. After this, drinks on me."
"No trouble. I'm free."
...
The No-Tell room smelled like stale grease and bad choices. Dexter DeShaun had blown the place apart in panic. When the news hit that Saburo Arasaka was dead, his empire of favors and quick fixes collapsed overnight. He'd become a hunted animal, pockets full of cash, racing to the one place that was hardest to trace.
A knock came at the door. Dexter cursed, tossed aside a half-eaten burger, and grabbed his sidearm. "Who is it?"
"Me." Neo's voice at the door.
Dexter flung the door open like it was a lifeline. Then his rant spilled out—accusation, fear, betrayal. "What did you do? The whole net is on fire. N54, the underground feeds, everyone's talking. Saburo's dead. You people killed a god."
Neo sat on the threadbare couch, legs up on the coffee table, watching Dexter's meltdown like a theater. Dexter raged and raked the air with both hands. He was three hundred pounds of pure panic, suddenly fast and dangerous.
"You know what this means? They'll hunt everything connected to us. I'm ruined!" he barked.
Neo stayed calm. He let Dexter shriek and buckle under the truth. When the tirade tapered, Neo folded his hands and spoke in the soft, steady voice of someone with dangerous patience.
"Dexter, tell me exactly who you fed to the feeds. Who saw us at Konpeki? Who booked vehicles? Names. Now."
Dexter's face paled. He swallowed, the room going quiet except for the thin hum of the motel air unit. He'd burned his ledger when he thought the world would stay the same. He had no idea how much he'd left behind, and he feared how many doors would swing open now.
Outside, the city was boiling. Bars sprayed cheers. Streets were lit by holo-flames of a thousand broadcasts. On one side, people drank to the fall of a tyrant. On the other, corporate channels screamed crisis. Night City had become a wound and the whole planet gawked at the blood.
Inside the motel, in the corner where the light was dead and cheap, Neo listened to Dexter stumble through the names. Each one was a live wire. Each one could blow everything to ash.
Neo let the list grow long. He folded it in his mind like a map. Then he rose, moving through the litter and bullets of panic, and left Dexter to his trembling. Outside, the night had a colder edge. Neo felt it in his bones and grinned without showing teeth.
"They're going to come for us," he said, quiet enough for only himself. "Let them."