Sometimes, when the weight inside your chest feels too heavy to bear, all you can do is drown it in alcohol and numb it with chemicals. It's like carrying a mountain you can never put down, trudging forward blindly under its crushing load.
But tonight, for once, that weight had lifted.
Maine glanced toward Neo, seated at the head of the table.
Yeah.
It was because of him.
Because of him, everything had changed—Maine himself had changed, the whole crew had changed. And damn, it felt good.
He raised his glass, a half-smile pulling at his scarred face.
"Neo," he said, turning toward the man at the head of the table, "a toast goes something like this, right?"
He let out a gruff laugh. "I haven't quite mastered the art yet, so bear with me. Come on, Neo, this one's to you. Everything I want to say is right here, in the drink."
Neo stood up, glass in hand, returning the gesture with precision.
"Alright then, Maine. Let's drink."
Rebecca immediately snatched her own glass, mimicking the motion with a grin. "Neo, I wanna do it too! I'm toasting you too! And my feelings for you—no water either!"
Lucy, quiet as always, reached for her glass without a word. She didn't say anything, but her eyes spoke volumes—enough to light a spark in the air.
And once a fire starts burning, there's no stopping it.
Jackie Welles was up next, his voice loud enough to shake the walls. "Choom, for everything between us—no need for words. It's all in the drink!"
He gulped it down and flipped his glass.
"Mr. Neo, I'll drink to that too," said David Martinez, standing tall beside them, knocking back his shot in one go.
Pilar and Dorio followed, pouring their own drinks, their laughter filling the room.
Neo couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. "Oh come on, are you guys serious? If this keeps up, I'll have to start drinking straight from the bottle—or maybe climb into a barrel!"
And so, the Edgerunner crew's base filled with laughter that rolled deep into the night. The air was alive, vibrant—free.
...
The next morning.
A sky-train hummed along the rails, sliding from Watson District toward Heywood.
Neo and Jackie Welles stood side by side near the transparent door, the cityscape blurring past below.
"Neo," Jackie said, glancing his way. "You really gonna stay mad at me over that? Come on, choom, I didn't mean to screw it up!"
"I was just trying to be careful! That thing you gave me—it's important! You handed it over, and I thought, 'I gotta keep this in the safest damn place possible.' So I took it to Heywood!"
Neo rubbed his temple. "Jackie… you're unbelievable. I swear."
Last night, before heading to meet Dexter DeShawn at the No-Tell Motel, Neo had carefully separated the relic chip and Adam Smasher's neural core, sealing them in a backup case. He'd given that case to Jackie, told him to take it back to the Watson base for safekeeping.
But somewhere along the way, Jackie's brain must've misfired—or maybe he'd just heard wrong.
He thought Neo wanted him to stash it somewhere extra safe.
So he'd called up Delamain, taken the detour all the way to Heywood, and left the damn thing at Wild Wolf Bar.
When Neo heard that this morning, he almost lost it.
...
Moments later, the train slid to a stop at Heywood Station.
As they stepped off, the familiar scent of oil, smoke, and street tacos hit them. Jackie took a deep breath, spreading his arms as if to embrace the whole damn city.
"Welcome to Heywood, Neo! Welcome to Valentino turf!"
In Night City, every gang had its own code, its own color, its own rhythm.
The Valentinos ruled Heywood—strict about territory, bound by honor and tradition. They stood for loyalty, justice, and brotherhood, and they'd spill blood to defend it.
Walking through Heywood's streets, Neo could see how old the district was. Cracked roads, low buildings, ancient signage faded by years of acid rain. If not for the hovering mag-trains above, you could almost believe this was a city from a century ago.
And yet, there was warmth here. The Valentinos might've been poor, but they were real. They looked after their own. Corporations couldn't buy their way in here—the people wouldn't let them.
Jackie spread his arms wide again, grinning. "You can travel all across Night City, choom, but nowhere feels like home the way Heywood does. Even the dog crap smells sweeter here!"
Neo chuckled. "Jackie, you're supposed to be a legend. Maybe try acting like one?"
"Hell no," Jackie said, waving him off. "Pretending's not my style. You saw me last night, wearing that corpo monkey suit in the Azure Hotel? I thought I was gonna break out in hives."
Neo smiled but said nothing. That was Jackie for you—real, raw, grounded. A man who could drink with mercs one night and fight side by side with corps the next.
Just then, something small and orange padded out from an alley.
A fat, round-bellied tabby cat.
Neo froze. He blinked, rubbed his eyes.
Still there…
A cat. In 2077's Night City.
Unbelievable.
And not just any cat—an orange one.
"Am I seeing things?" Neo murmured.
It brought back a memory—the first time he'd met Jackie. The two of them, smuggling a half-dead iguana across the border. A lizard so rare that it brought down half a platoon of Arasaka goons on their heads. All that firepower, all that bloodshed… for a damn reptile.
And now, a cat? If a lizard could cause that much trouble, what kind of chaos would a cat bring?
Jackie, catching the look on his face, chuckled and crouched down in front of the orange tabby. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out some crumbs of dried meat.
The cat sniffed his hand, cautious at first. Then, with slow, deliberate grace, it began to eat.
Jackie grinned. "This little guy's worth more than that lizard ever was. There were some punks once—thought they could snatch him up, sell him off to some corpo lab or a Biotech dealer out in the Badlands. But when the chase brought them into Valentino territory…"
He looked down at the cat with pride.
"Let's just say they didn't walk out. From that day on, this little guy became one of us—a Valentino in fur."
Jackie reached out to pet the cat, only for it to lightly nip his hand. Not hard—just enough to warn him off.
"Hahaha! Still the same as ever. This furball never lets anyone touch him," Jackie laughed. "Doesn't matter who you are."
Neo crouched beside him, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Let's see about that."
He reached his hand out toward the cat...