"Thanks, Padre."
Ending his call with Padre, Leo reconnected with McCoy.
"I've found a fixer who's willing to take the goods. You na the ti and place, and I'll have people pick them up."
McCoy's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That was fast. Looks like you're doing well in Night City."
"Nothing special—third-best in the world." Leo waved a hand modestly, then recalled sothing. "By the way, McCoy, among those implants you have, is there a 'Net Interface Module' for netrunning?"
"A netrunning interface? I'm not sure. I'll have to check. Hang on."
McCoy turned to one of the Nomads standing behind him and gave so quick instructions. That person ran off at once.
"You planning to beco a netrunner now?" McCoy teased.
"No…it's for a friend."
McCoy narrowed his eyes, sounding amused. "A lady friend?"
"Stop ssing around. She's just a friend."
"So…a girlfriend."
Leo decided not to bicker about it. "If you don't have that module, forget I asked."
He had barely finished speaking when the Nomad who ran off returned. Leaning in, the Nomad whispered sothing to McCoy. McCoy's expression shifted, then beca oddly intrigued.
"Leo, guess what we just found?"
"What?"
"You wanted a netrunning interface, right? Well, it turns out we looked inside one of the second-gen implant cases and stumbled on a ' Tetratronic Rippler 4 Model.'"
Leo's eyes widened. "A Tetratronic Rippler Mk.4? That's a fourth-gen—Legendary—net interface."
McCoy let out a short laugh. "Looks like there were more moles in that corp convoy than just ours. Interesting. It's like a distillery out there—too many people taking sips."
Leo didn't care who else was involved; all that mattered was the net interface. "You really found a Tetratronic Rippler 4? I want it."
But McCoy hesitated, as if struggling over how to phrase his reply. "Leo, we've known each other for a while, but this thing is…well, it's worth a lot. I have to take care of our brothers—what's left of the Bakkers—and I can't just hand it over for free."
Leo only nodded in understanding. "Wrap it up for . Whatever price you found online, I'll pay it when I co pick up the goods."
Visibly relieved, McCoy grinned again. "Big spender. Great, then co by tomorrow afternoon."
"That soon?" Leo asked, surprised.
"These implants are hot. Better to sell them off before trouble cos looking for us, right?"
Leo couldn't argue with that. "Where?"
"Sunset Motel. You know the spot, right?"
"Yeah, out east in the Badlands. Why that side, though? I figured you'd pick sowhere closer."
The Bakkers usually stayed in the southern Badlands, but heading all the way east ant traveling a big loop.
"That's confidential."
"All right, I won't pry," Leo said. He could guess they had other business to handle along the way—typical of Nomads trying to support their clan however they could.
"But since you used to be part of the Bakkers and helped us with a big favor, I guess there's no harm in telling you. We picked the Sunset Motel so we can et another client there."
Leo paused. "A client? Wait, what client?" Leo felt his instincts flaring up on that information.
Without much concern, McCoy explained, "Soone desperate to leave the city. He won't say why, but that's hardly unusual in Night City—people get themselves into trouble all the ti and end up running. I've handled plenty of folks like that back when the Bakkers were still around."
Leo's mind jumped to a particular possibility. "Send a picture of that client. Now."
McCoy frowned in confusion. "Why?"
"Just do it. Let see if it's who I think it is."
Monts later, Leo received the image and imdiately shared it with Chihiro.
"This the smuggler who sold you out?"
At first, Chihiro stared blankly, then her face lit up. "That's him!"
Leo turned back to McCoy. "Your prospective client is an enemy of a friend of mine. Na your price—I want him."
"What'd he do to you?"
"He sold my friend's location to the Tiger Claws, almost killing her and her daughter."
"Bastard," McCoy spat. "Never mind the money—he's yours. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll personally hand him over."
"Thanks, McCoy."
…
At four in the morning, Night City was still brightly lit by neon signs and towering hologram ads. Though the sun had yet to rise, corporate employees were already on the move, and the roads were packed with traffic. It was a hustle that had little to do with the street-level folks, who at that hour were still fast asleep.
A man in a long coat, duckbill cap, and face mask exited one of the gabuildings in Little Chinatown, shielding his features as much as possible. He was none other than the smuggler who had betrayed Chihiro and Ryoko.
He stood anxiously by the roadside until, a few minutes later, a Delamain taxi pulled up.
"Welco to Delamain's professional transport service. Choose Delamain—leave your troubles behind!"
The door barely slid open before he dove inside and slamd it shut, as if scared sothing might follow him in.
"You sure took your sweet ti! Couldn't you show up a bit earlier?"
"Client feedback recorded. Thank you for the complint. Delamain always strives—"
"Yeah, yeah, enough of that. You damn AI can't even tell I'm insulting you. People say machines will replace humankind, but I call bull."
…
Peering out the taxi window at the neon blur of the city, the smuggler tried in vain to figure out how Chihiro could still be alive—and why the Tiger Claws had taken such heavy losses.
As far as he knew, every single Masafusa-gumi soldier on the scene had been wiped out, leaving no survivors to confirm what happened. Nor did they have caras all over that part of the city. Neither Masafusa Jōtarō nor the smuggler had any clue that Chihiro had found allies. They assud it had been her alone all along.
Damn it all. If he'd known Chihiro was that powerful, he wouldn't have sold her out, even if threatened. But it was too late now. She'd obviously figure out who betrayed her. Staying in Night City ant a death sentence; Chihiro wasn't the type who'd forgive being double-crossed.
As if that weren't enough, he also had the Tiger Claws to worry about. The Masafusa-gumi had been devastated, lost so many n, and failed to catch Chihiro. They'd co after him next just to release so of their anger.
He'd always known this day might co—every rat hole eventually runs out of space. Now he had to run as far as possible and never look back.
Reviews
All reviews (0)