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Chapter 21: Uninvited Guests
[CALLING: V]
"Boss. Made it to Dogtown... and rattled Hands a bit."
V: "Not bad. Hands' wife looked pretty stacked. Riding with a woman that hot—easy job."
Ethan: "..."
"So what's the situation?"
Ethan shook his head. "Day's gone by. Nothing from Hands. Understandable though... when I'm angry, I force myself to calm down. Maybe our busy friend is cooling off and figuring out how to deal with me."
"Dogtown stuff—I'll keep you posted. I'll call if I need anything."
"But you need to make sure you can stay in Dogtown. Don't let Hansen pull you out like a nail. I'm hanging up—got work."
Call ended. Ethan crouched by the Dogtown basketball court, watching locals play street ball.
Strange world. This was where V would wait for Reed in the game. And here Ethan was—an outsider like V—sitting in the same spot, thinking about survival.
He'd crashed in a ruined building last night. Longshore Stacks was definitely off-limits—his current appearance might not get flagged immediately, but some Barghest had access to NCPD databases.
That tech was powerful. Any disguise could be stripped away.
Except—
The Behavioral Faceplate.
Still no leads. He'd even made a trip to the Stadium black market. Every ripperdoc shook their head.
Nope. Even if we had it, not something you just buy.
[MESSAGE]
Ethan's optic display flickered. Finally—word from the "busy man."
Mr. Hands: Nice moves, friend. A merc willing to do anything suits corporate work perfectly.
Ethan: ?
What's this guy on about? Ethan was confused. Could Hands really access Arasaka's databases?
Mr. Hands: Let's be direct. Your handler—I've got full info on them. Cole. L-I-N. Familiar?
Ethan stared at the message, expression strange.
That's... me.
So what exactly had Hands dug up?
Or was V's cover work too convincing, making Hands genuinely believe there was someone named "Cole" working at Arasaka?
This world really is one giant circus...
Ethan: LOL
Hands seemed to grow impatient.
Mr. Hands: Friend, silence won't erase your corporate dog status. I knew there was some mystery player—knowing all that info. Tell your boss: leave me alone.
Ethan: No.
Long pause before Hands replied.
Mr. Hands: Get your boss here. We'll talk face-to-face. What they want is just money, reputation, status—I can share. But we need to compete.
Ethan: Sorry. You don't rate a meeting with my boss. Smart advice: release some business. Let me and my boss split it fifty-fifty.
Mr. Hands: Where are you? Let's meet.
Meet in person?
Ethan knew: once online trash talk escalated to phone calls, real-world confrontation was next.
Hands' expression was probably spectacular right now. Only an idiot would show up.
Ethan: You think I'm stupid? The business isn't mine—my boss handles it. I just tag along for scraps. What's the point of offing me?
Mr. Hands: Fine. Since your handler won't see me, they must be in Pacifica. Watching closely. Right? After all, business needs eyes on it.
Ethan silently scoffed.
Dad's not just in Pacifica—he's squatting in your backyard watching people play basketball.
Mr. Hands: Business needs mercs. Clean or dirty work—you need trustworthy people. Does your boss have that?
Ethan: Yes. Me. Quit yapping. Play it smart—push jobs to my boss Cole. Remember: I can reach your wife anytime.
Mr. Hands: ...Just you? One person can't handle major gigs.
Ethan: That's my boss's problem. Not yours.
The other end went quiet for a long time. Finally, nothing.
Ethan knew this was ruthless. But they drew first blood. Skimming some business was being generous.
You won't let me live? I'll cut your income. Fair's fair.
Hands' call came through.
Ethan thought it over. Business required communication channels. He answered.
"I don't like you people muscling into this territory. Hansen won't let corps into Dogtown. Making it here requires a calling card."
Ethan grunted. "Where I'm from, it's called a blood oath. No criminal record, no epic showdown with corporations—Hansen won't trust you. Right?"
"Exactly. So your boss sticking claws into Dogtown—what's the goal?"
Ethan replied: "Low pay. Wants to mess with Hansen... obvious, isn't it? Hit Arasaka, and Arasaka hits back. Normal. So, dear Mr. Hands, keep this quiet."
Hands' heavy breathing came through.
"Business isn't easy to hand off. Best to send someone. I can share half my contacts—but whether they trust you isn't up to me. Do good work, and clients will come."
"Of course, I'll be recommending new clients to you too. As for persuading them—your boss handles that."
"One warning: don't make it ugly. Worst case, I retire. Your boss won't cut clean."
Ethan figured Hands made sense. Push too hard and everybody loses.
The old guy still wanted to profit. Otherwise, he'd have taken wife and kid and fled California already.
"Deal. I'll come meet face-to-face. Boss agreed."
Call ended.
Time and place were set for tomorrow night at Heavy Hearts. Ethan had to go. The first step of playing the tiger-skin banner had been unwittingly set up by Mr. Hands himself. Ethan just needed to confirm with V.
This could definitely be done.
Phones never rang when you wanted them to. But when they started, they wouldn't stop.
Just as Ethan was about to message V, another unknown call came in.
The voice on the other end was low, with some kind of audio filter. Ethan could barely hear clearly.
"Are you... uh, Ethan?"
"Yeah. Who's this?"
"Holy shit, you're actually still alive!"
"You hoping I'm alive or dead? Who even are you? That's rude."
The other end went silent for a while. "Longshore Stacks. Hope you can come."
"Bro, you think I'm gonna show up based on that cryptic bullshit?"
Ethan was ready to hang up. Night City had plenty of scam ads and AI telemarketers. Could easily be some prank.
"Who the hell are you calling 'bro'... forget it. Ethan, I know this is sudden. But we're in deep shit. Hansen's people are still hunting us."
"..."
"Fine. I'm Rebecca."
"I know this is... awkward. But I wanted to ask—is there any other way out of Dogtown?"
Ethan's expression was priceless.
"Wait—you guys are still in Dogtown playing cat-and-mouse with Hansen? Impressive!"
This was real. Ethan never imagined this edgerunner crew was still hiding in Dogtown, dodging pursuit.
"How'd you get my contact info? And how'd you know I'm in Dogtown?"
"Our crew's netrunner is still in Night City... anyway, if you got back into Dogtown, you must have a way. Can you come? We'll pay."
Ethan hesitated. Helping an edgerunner crew at this moment—one being hunted by Hansen no less—wasn't exactly necessary.
But a scheme formed in his mind.
"Sure. But I can operate in Dogtown because I have a 'boss.' How about this—I'll ask the boss if they need workers. Get you out of Dogtown and back in, plus jobs on the side."
"Boss pays wages. No cut from you. You even get paid. How's that sound?"
Rebecca clearly couldn't decide alone. "Just come first, okay?"
"Fine. But once I show up, that means you've agreed. Call anytime if you change your mind on the way."
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