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Rita had to admit, she had misjudged him.
The man standing in the restroom, who appeared to have almost zero combat cyberware, was a predator. He moved with a clinical detachment that made her reinforced skin crawl.
"I like a tough nut, kid, but you're pushing it," Rita said. She shook her metal baseball bat, tapping it against the tiled wall with a rhythmic clack-clack. "Exhilarating as this is, if you keep hitting him, he's going to flatline."
Kael stopped mid-swing, shaking out his hands. His knuckles were slightly sore; the "Power of Three" gave him the strength to shatter alloy ribs, but his "ganic" hands still felt the impact.
"I really need to spend more time in the gym," Kael muttered, grabbing a handful of industrial paper towels to wipe the blood—none of it his—from his fingers.
Aidan, slumped against a urinal, looked at Rita as if she were an angel of mercy. He let out a series of muffled, pathetic whimpers.
"Why'd you show up so fast?" Kael asked, tossing the bloodied paper into the bin. "I wasn't done with the 'persuasion' phase."
"Kid, you've got balls, I'll give you that," Rita sneered, her pink pigtails twitching. "But you're in Mox territory. You think we don't have eyes in every corner of this bar? Especially the restrooms?"
Kael paused, looking at the ceiling vents. "Miniature cameras in the men's room? Real class, Rita. No privacy for the paying customers?"
"We put 'em in the women's room, too," she replied nonchalantly. "It's not for peeping, choom. It's for security. We don't like 'accidents' happening to our guests."
Kael sighed. This was the downside of leaving Lucy in the car. Without a Netrunner to loop the local feed, he was as visible as a neon sign.
"Don't be nervous, Rita. This is just business. Give me two minutes to finish up, and I'll be out of your hair. No mess, no fuss."
"No," Rita said firmly, stepping into the room.
Kael clicked his tongue in annoyance. He grabbed Aidan by the hair, dunking his head into a toilet bowl to sober him up before hauling him back up.
"Consider yourself lucky, Aidan. Lizzie's closes in three hours. We can finish our 'chat' in the alley then, or you can pay what you owe right now."
"Wait... wait!" Aidan gasped, water and blood dripping from his chin. "I'll pay! I'll pay! Just stop hitting me!"
Kael looked at Rita. "See? Excellent communication."
"How the f*ck was I supposed to know you were debt-collecting?" Rita cursed. If Kael didn't radiate such a dangerous, composed energy, she would have already cracked his skull. But she was a professional; she didn't want a full-scale riot in the bar over a mid-tier deadbeat.
Aidan's spirit was utterly broken. He hadn't even realized why he was being beaten until that moment. "I... I spent the money on a new tech-cannon... I didn't think the Netrunner would actually send a psycho after me."
"So, you're broke," Kael noted, his eyes turning cold.
"No! I can pawn the cannon! I'll transfer the Eddies right now, I swear!"
Ten minutes later, Kael walked out of the restroom. A notification chimed in his Kiroshis: [40,000 Eddies Received]. He immediately forwarded half to Kiwi and left the rest in Lucy's account as "spending money."
Behind him, Aidan sat on the floor, weeping softly over the loss of his expensive new weapon and the looming medical bills. Kael didn't look back.
Rita was waiting by the exit, leaning against the wall next to a beautiful woman in a revealing silk outfit—a high-end pleasure model.
"Hey, BT," Rita called out.
Kael stopped. "You remembered the name. Good for you."
"Hard to forget a guy who drinks four Cokes in a strip club. Listen, you're an Edgerunner, and you're clearly good at 'communicating.' I've got a side-job if you're looking to kill some overtime."
"No thanks. I'm heading home to my bed," Kael said, turning to leave.
"Then don't bother coming back to Lizzie's," Rita called after him. "And don't expect any of our girls to look at you, let alone touch you."
Kael froze. He turned around, staring at her. "Hiss... that's a vicious threat, Rita. Low blow."
He didn't care about the girls, but being barred from a primary info-hub like Lizzie's was a tactical error.
"Fine. What's the job?"
Rita gestured to the woman beside her. "This is Katie. She and her sisters want to jump ship to the Moxes, but their pimp is a possessive piece of work. He's holding their contracts and threatening to sell them to Scavengers if they leave. I can't move on him—it's outside our turf and might spark a war with the Tyger Claws. But an 'independent' contractor? That's different."
"How much?"
Rita wiggled five fingers.
"Fifty thousand? Bold move, Rita."
"Five thousand. I just spent my savings on new arm-chrome."
Kael stared at her in dead silence. "Five thousand Eddies? Are you joking? I make more than that selling pancakes."
"Look, if you do it, these girls will be very... grateful. Or I could even 'repay' the favor myself," Rita winked, leaning forward to show off her aggressive, pink-plated cleavage.
Kael gave her a long, unamused look before raising his middle finger. "Fine. Five thousand. But strictly cash. I'm doing this for the 'professional' access to the bar, not your 'charms'."
Katie led Kael to a dilapidated apartment block a few streets over. The air here was ten times worse than Japantown—a thick, oily fog of desperation.
A tattooed thug was guarding the stairwell, a cheap katana in his hand. He went to bark a threat at Katie, but before he could finish the first syllable, Kael's foot connected with his jaw. The man's head hit the concrete steps with a sickening thud, and he went limp.
"Keep going," Kael said calmly.
Katie, emboldened by the sudden violence, paused only to deliver a savage stomp to the fallen thug's crotch. Kael winced at the sound of cracking bone. Hell hath no fury, he thought.
They pushed into the pimp's apartment. The living room was a mess of empty drug pouches and half-naked thugs. The pimp, a greasy man in a loud shirt, looked up from his sofa.
"Katie? You brought a date? You think this 'ganic' can protect you from—"
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Kael didn't wait for the monologue. He drew the Kenshin and put three rounds through the foreheads of the thugs standing behind the sofa. The suppressed shots were barely louder than a cough.
Kael pressed the hot muzzle of the Kenshin against the pimp's forehead, forcing him back into the cushions.
"Keep talking," Kael whispered. "I love stories."
"I... I'm sorry! Take them! Take all of them!" the pimp shrieked, his tough-guy act evaporating instantly.
Kael tossed a spare pistol to Katie. "Go get your sisters."
Katie entered the back rooms. There were more gunshots, more screams, and then a group of terrified women emerged, led by a fiercely determined Katie.
"Everyone's out," she said, her hands shaking as she held the gun. She looked at the pimp, her eyes burning with years of suppressed rage. "What about him?"
"I'll pay! I have money in the safe!" the pimp blubbered.
"I'm not interested in your money," Kael said, patting Katie on the shoulder. "The floor is yours, Katie."
BANG.
The first shot hit the pimp in the stomach. He doubled over, howling.
"Aim higher," Kael coached.
Katie stepped forward, pressed the barrel against the pimp's temple, and pulled the trigger again. Silence finally fell over the apartment.
Kael led the women out into the Night City air. "Go to Lizzie's. Tell Rita the 'Pancake Vendor' sent you. And tell her I expect my five thousand Eddies to be waiting at the bar."
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