It wasn't that he deliberately kept it from Leo; he only knew that V had gone out with Jackei. But he didn't know what they had gone out to do—Pepe didn't know either.
While eating a hamburger with coke, Leo suddenly rembered that he had given V 300,000 euros yesterday. And since his apartnt had been arranged by Jackie, it was most likely that V had asked Jackie to find an apartnt for herself as well. That must be why she had left the El Coyote Bar so early.
The more Leo thought about it, the more convinced he beca that this was indeed the case. Although his reasoning was perfectly logical, no matter how hard he racked his brains, he could never have guessed that the truth was even more than that. In addition to looking for an apartnt, the more important matter was that V wanted Jackie to advise her on what gift would be appropriate for Leo's birthday.
…
Leo planned to sit in the bar for a while. If, after he had rested, V and Jackie still hadn't returned, he would use the idle ti to manufacture another batch of technical weapons.
No one would complain about making a little money—even if it really was just a string of digits by now, Leo hoped that the string would be as long as possible.
"Hey, interested in taking on a job?" a voice ca from beside him. Leo turned his head. The speaker wore sunglasses, appeared to be in his forties, was rather tall, had no beer belly, and maintained a good physique. He was dressed in a striped shirt and dress pants, and a refined watch adorned his wrist.
Leo recognized the man; he had a vague impression of him, as he sotis also ca to the El Coyote Bar. Others had ntioned that he seed to be a journalist. As for his na, Leo hadn't paid much attention.
"What's the job?"
"Getting rich. Do a favor—co with to a place. Interested?"
Leo looked the man up and down. "You should have gone through an interdiary."
"Interdiaries, my ass. They just end up gouging you—re middlen. No need for interdiaries; let's deal directly, so you can pocket the extra paynt. Wouldn't you want such a good deal?"
In Night City, the rule was that when an employer had a job, they would first hand it over to an interdiary, who would then act as a bridge to connect with the appropriate rcenary. If any disputes arose, the interdiary would step in to settle matters. Naturally, just as there were many online shopping platforms, there were several interdiaries in the city—so reliable, so not.
Alternatively, rcenaries could connect directly with the employer, but if sothing went wrong later, there'd be no interdiary to smooth things over.
Leo glanced at the journalist a few more tis, feeling that the man probably wouldn't try to play him. And even if he did, Leo was more than capable of making sure he got a taste of his own dicine.
"Alright, but you need to explain clearly what this job is about—I hate riddlers."
"My na is Max Jones, and I'm a journalist. But don't you dare lump in with those corporate mouthpieces."
Max adjusted the sunglasses on his nose. "This morning, soone nad Esteban contacted . We didn't discuss any details over the phone but instead arranged to et offline. I need you to protect ."
Leo used the last bit of bread to wipe the remaining sauce off his plate and stuffed it into his mouth. "Are you afraid to et your informant?"
"First, he isn't even my informant; second, you have no idea how dangerous it is to go against a company. I don't know this Esteban—he might really have the company's dirt, or he might simply be luring into a trap."
"I'm not sure, which is why I ca to you. I know that you, the bar owner's son, and that girl are all rcenaries."
"I can pay you, provided you keep alive so I can continue to expose the company's hidden secrets."
Max's expression was resolute—not feigned, but a true conviction of his principles. At the sa ti, he wasn't naive; he understood well the risks of his line of work. One careless mont, and it was all too common to end up with a dozen bullets in your back or worse. That was why he sought rcenary protection.
Under the oppressive shadow of corporate colonialism, most people had no choice but to submit. But warriors like Max, who dared to confront the company, were rarer than gold. Therefore, within his ans, Leo agreed to help.
"Alright, I'll take this job." Leo told Max to wait a mont while he phoned Jackie.
"Leo, what's up?" ca Jackie's voice. "I just got a contract—a protection job…" Leo recounted quickly. "How soon can you be back?"
For so reason, Jackie's tone sounded anxious and hurried: "Uh, Leo, now isn't the ti to chat. I'm a bit busy over here… I have to hang up now. We'll talk later." Before Leo could say anything more, Jackie ended the call.
The busy tone on the line left Leo montarily stunned. He couldn't tell if it was his imagination, but he thought he heard faint sounds of gunfire and explosions in the background. Could it be that V and Jackie had also taken on a contract when they left?
Leo wasn't particularly worried about their safety. Neither V nor Jackie was the type to recklessly overextend themselves and end up battered. Leo didn't assu that V and Jackie couldn't leave him to handle a mission on his own—after all, that would be truly looking down on them.
They had been born in Night City and were much more accustod to its rules. Besides, when Leo was helping Padre manufacture technical weapons, he had even set aside materials and parts to upgrade their gear. If any clueless scavengers or gang thugs attacked them, the real worry would be on the opposing side.
eting Max's questioning look, Leo said, "My partner has so business to attend to. It looks like it's just the two of us this ti."
......
.....
.
The difference between the northern industrial district and the comparatively more prosperous Little Chinatown and Kabuki districts was stark. The roads were narrower, the buildings lower, and traffic was sparse. In particular, the further north one went, the more pronounced the disparity beca.
"You looked a bit tense," Leo observed as his gaze shifted downward. "Your hands were trembling—were you cold?"
In the front passenger seat, Max had his hands tucked into his pockets. "Keep your eyes on the road, thanks."
Leo smiled. "Don't worry—I am not a novice. If there had truly been an ambush waiting, my tactical sight's scanning mode would have detected it long before, and I would have turned around and gotten us out safely."
"Not far ahead… Wait, what was that?" Max exclaid, his eyes widening as he stared upward. Following his gaze, Leo looked up and saw two heavy, jet-black hovercraft slowly ascending from a short distance ahead. Their thrusters emitted a shimring blue fla as they swiftly propelled the vehicles away. Despite their rapid ascent, both could clearly make out the insignia painted on the hovercraft—the Arasaka Clover!!!
Leo and Max exchanged glances, each reading unmistakable shock in the other's eyes. Max slumped back in the seat as if all his strength had suddenly drained away.
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