[Check Out My P4treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!! And get chapters before publishing them here for free on my p4treon][https://p4treon.com/talkfictome]
===
"What's the word? Looks like a party's breaking out up ahead!"
Watching the panicked crowd scatter like dry leaves in a gale, Rebecca adjusted her twin pigtails. She grabbed Sasha by the arm, tugging her against the flow of terrified civilians toward Wakako's office.
"Slow down, Becca!" Sasha stumbled, her feline cyber-optics struggling to process the chaotic motion.
Rebecca wasn't just chasing the thrill. Her urgency was personal. She and her brother, Pilar, were the children of the "Father of Sunrise," a legendary Edgerunner who had once been Wakako's top contractor. After his death, while fair-weather friends picked over their inheritance, it was the "Old Hag" Wakako who had looked out for them. In Rebecca's chaotic world, Wakako was the closest thing she had to a respected elder.
Rebecca snagged a fleeing passerby by the collar. "What's the heat, choom?"
"Let go! There's a cyberpsycho in the plaza! Run, you idiot!"
"A cyberpsycho?" Rebecca's heart skipped. In Night City, that word meant a one-way trip to a body bag.
"It's Mark!" Sasha's eyes flared red as she jacked into the local subnet. "I've got the street cams. It's him."
"That gonk should've redlined months ago," Rebecca hissed. Mark was a former heavy-hitter for Wakako who had been cast out once his mental stability began to fray.
"Sasha, stay back. I'm going to help the old lady," Rebecca barked, reaching for her oversized pistol.
"Wait—no need," Sasha said, her voice dropping in shock. She zoomed in on the feed. "Mark's already been... zeroed. Is that... The Pancake Vendor?"
Rewind sixty seconds.
As Mark lunged, his Mantis Blades singing through the air, Kael didn't draw his gun. He drew a combat knife and stepped forward. To the crowd, it looked like suicide.
Kael moved with the clinical grace of a Pilot. He drove the blade into the primary actuator of Mark's right Mantis Blade, severing the hydraulic line and deadening the arm. He ducked a wild left-hand swing, the blade whistling over his head.
Mark, lost to the abyss of cyberpsychosis, was faster and stronger than any human, but he was predictable. He threw a heavy knee at Kael's face—a strike backed by enough force to shatter a skull.
Kael tilted his head an inch to the left. The knee grazed his ear. In the same motion, Kael drew the Kenshin and fired a charged electromagnetic slug directly into Mark's opposite knee joint.
CRACK.
The artificial joint vaporized. Kael followed up with a kick imbued with the "Power of Three," snapping the support struts. Mark crashed to the pavement.
"I... am the legend..." Mark rasped, his eyes swirling with digital madness.
Kael grabbed the shimmering Mantis Blade still attached to Mark's dead right arm. With a brutal twist, he tore the blade from its housing and drove it through Mark's temple. The glowing red sensors in Mark's eyes slowly faded into darkness.
Kael looked up at the sumo-bodyguard, his breathing steady, his expression cold. "Hey, Big Guy. Can I see Wakako now?"
"Of course, Mr. BT," the bodyguard stammered, his tone shifting from arrogance to profound respect. "The Madam is waiting."
"The Pancake Vendor!"
Rebecca burst through the crowd, waving her short arms. The surrounding mercs stared—who was this kid, and why was a known loose cannon like Rebecca calling him a baker?
"Oh, hey Rebecca," Kael smiled, the "Calculating Survivor" mask slipping for a moment.
"You zeroed a cyberpsycho? Solo? Are you for real?!" Rebecca punched his arm, a gesture of familiarity that made the veteran mercs in the plaza whisper in disbelief.
"Small potatoes, Becca. I was in the neighborhood."
"Miss Cat," Kael added, nodding to Sasha.
"It's... Sasha," she whispered, her heart hammering. Seeing Kael execute a demon like Mark with such surgical calm had left a deep impression on her.
"Right. Sasha." Kael turned back to the bodyguard. "Lead the way."
Wakako's office was a sanctuary of dim lights and traditional Japanese aesthetics. The air smelled of expensive incense and old paper.
"Mark was my responsibility. I apologize for the inconvenience," Wakako said, her voice steady but her eyes sharp.
"Apologies don't pay the rent, Wakako," Kael replied, taking a seat.
"True." Wakako didn't blink. She authorized a transfer. [+200,000 Eddies Received]. "Consider it a bounty for the kill. And a token of my desire for a long-term partnership."
Wakako was a predator; she knew a "Living Legend" when she saw one. Kael's unaugmented face and high-tier combat results were a combination that made him the most valuable asset in Westbrook.
"I have some real tea. Not the synthetic sludge," she offered, brewing a cup with practiced, elegant movements.
"Tastes good. Pack some for me? And some of that Wagyu you mentioned?"
"Of course."
They chatted for a few minutes—business, territory, the shifting tides of the gangs. As Kael stood to leave, the bodyguard, Dahai, handed him an exquisite wooden box.
"The Madam included a few extras," Dahai said. Inside was a treasure trove: Wagyu beef, oyster mushrooms, fresh tofu, and real carrots.
"Looks like sukiyaki tonight," Kael noted.
"I thought you'd make malatang," Dahai muttered.
"I'll surprise her," Kael winked. Before leaving, he pointed back at Mark's cooling corpse. "Scrap the chrome on that guy. We'll split the take 80/20. Your favor for the cleanup."
"Deal," Dahai nodded eagerly.
Kael stepped out into the neon glow of the Sakura Market, the heavy box of real food tucked under his arm. He had money, a growing reputation, and a partner waiting for him at home.
===
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 20 on my patreon, go check it out
exclusive 18+ character images, and early chapters, please visit my Patreon. Thanks for your support!
p4treon.com/talkfictome
if you want more updates == supports with power stones
Power Stones == Bonus Chapter
every three 5-star reviews == Bonus Chapter