Cyberpunk: The Ultimate Saga

"I didn't expect her to be here," Leon Black said, narrowing his eyes.

There, lying in the corner of the scavenger hideout, was Evelyn Parker—the same mysterious blue-haired woman who had once commissioned them during the Blue-Green Building incident. But she was no longer the glamorous client she had been. Now she was a shadow of that image.

Her torn clothes, matted hair, a broken arm, bruises across her face, and the shallow rise and fall of her chest told the story clearly: her life was slipping away.

"Are we saving her?" Lena Fox asked without emotion as she looked back at Leon.

"We'll see if the opportunity presents itself," Leon said. There was no urgency in his voice. He didn't care much whether Evelyn lived or died. In his eyes, she was just another broken soul—someone who tried to control the game without the strength to survive its rules.

Cunning and patience can only get you so far. Without power, all your plans are just paper castles. If Evelyn had been stronger, she wouldn't have had to beg others to steal for her, and her life wouldn't have been torn apart over a single chip.

Ambition without power is like gambling with fate.

"All-in" sounds heroic, but most who try lose everything.

"The recon is complete," Lena said, putting down the Hummingbird drone controller. "The intel our friend provided checks out."

Leon nodded with satisfaction. "Guess that connection paid off."

What had started as a casual move—slipping their contact info to a low-level insider at Militech—had actually panned out. It seemed that money could solve everything, after all.

"Let's show them what we're capable of. It's time we proved our worth," Lena added, pulling out a pistol from her inside jacket pocket.

It was the Arasaka HJKE-11 Yukimura—a smart gun capable of automatic targeting and tracking. All she had to do was point and pull the trigger.

"Don't get hurt," Leon smirked and vanished into the shadows, missing the subtle look of disgust that flashed across Lena's face. He knew the value of a top-tier netrunner like himself. In any crew, elite hackers were always in high demand.

---

When talking about hackers, one name always came up: Rache Bartmoss—a digital legend, and a lunatic.

The man who created the devastating software duo Devil and Hounds, programs that could track and eliminate targets via the Net, had once brought the entire digital world to its knees. During the Fourth Corporate War, a collective of elite netrunners attacked Bartmoss's hidden data fortress. When they finally located him, they called down a satellite strike to destroy him.

But Bartmoss had already anticipated death. In his final moments, he activated a kill-switch coded to the trigger word "rupture."

A tidal wave of network viruses—Hellhound, Devil, and countless AI-powered monstrosities—swept the world. Most deep-diving netrunners were killed instantly. Government and corporate databases were breached, and the resulting leaks exposed scandals, tech blueprints, and secrets that triggered chaos globally.

To survive the fallout, emergency firewalls were put in place. Governments were forced to physically isolate and regionalize remaining networks. Eventually, the infamous Blackwall was born—a digital barrier designed to keep rogue AIs and viral code locked away from what was left of the Net.

On one side of the wall, silence. On the other, endless warfare.

The dormant viruses lingered like ghosts, while AIs grew stronger by cannibalizing each other's code. They dreamed of crossing over—extending tendrils toward the world beyond.

Whether they would break through was a question of when, not if.

---

Lena Fox holstered her gun and approached the scavenger den. No hesitation. No words.

Scavengers. Parasites of Night City. Cowards who couldn't fight face-to-face, they stalked the streets like vultures. If they spotted someone with high-end cyberware, they'd follow them, wait until they were alone, beat them half to death, and rip out their implants—often while the victim was still conscious.

If the victim was homeless, even better. Fresh organs could fetch a hefty sum on the black market.

Leon once described them best: "Scavengers are like rats chewing on human kidneys."

To Leon and his crew, they were laughable. To everyone else? Terrorists.

The kindest thing you could do for a scavenger was send them straight to hell.

Inside the basement, the air reeked of blood and rot. Freshly severed limbs lay across the floor—still warm.

Leon activated his preferred melee weapon: Drizzle.

A nearly invisible polymer thread, two meters long. Steel-hard but rubber-flexible. It looked like a wrist decoration but was actually a lethal garrote. Some mocked it as a weapon for the weak. Leon didn't care. If it killed efficiently, it was valid.

Guns were loud.

Drizzle was silent.

With cyber-enhanced speed and epic-tier precision, Leon became a blur. The scavengers never saw it coming. Before any alarm could sound, he had already reached the lowest level.

The leader of the scavenger crew blinked in confusion at the intruder standing before him.

"Who the hell are you—?"

"The villain always dies talking," Leon grinned and lunged.

The leader wasn't weak. Nearly 40% of his body was cybernetic, making him one of the more dangerous scavengers. But compared to Leon Black, it was like a wooden bat against a railgun.

"Lena, check if there's a bounty on this guy," Leon said, letting the man's severed head drop to the floor.

Drizzle coiled back around his wrist, and he made his way toward Evelyn Parker's cell.

He knelt and gently tapped her shoulder.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

She stirred slightly. Eyes rolled white, her body twitching.

Leon sighed. "What a pain."

He pulled out a small injector and plunged it into her neck. Emergency recovery fluid. It wouldn't heal her, but it would stabilize her.

"This guy's only worth 300 credits," Lena reported, frowning as she closed the bounty database. She immediately shifted to hacking the gang's local accounts, seeing if she could squeeze any more cash out of them.

"That's not nothing," Leon shot back, giving her a side-eye glance. "Did you already forget the lean days? Back when 300 could feed us for a month?"

In Night City, it was easy to fall into the habit of excess. But he still remembered what it meant to struggle.

He looked at Evelyn again—stabilized but unconscious.

"I'll handle her. Clean up the mess. Tally the loot. Send a bonus to our insider. We'll need him for future jobs."

"I know, I know~" Lena rolled her eyes. "I'm not a rookie."

Leon carefully lifted Evelyn in his arms and headed toward the waiting vehicle. The rescue fluid was just a temporary fix. She needed full treatment—and a safehouse.

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

"I hope you're worth the trouble."

---

Elsewhere – Arasaka Seaside Airport, Night City

A luxury jet touched down at the private runway. Hanako Arasaka stepped off the aircraft with composed urgency. A hovercraft was already waiting.

Her brother, Yorinobu Arasaka, met her at the landing pad.

"How's Father?" she asked, barely hiding her anxiety.

Yorinobu's expression darkened. "Hanako… he passed away an hour ago. The resuscitation failed."

"What did you say?!" Hanako snapped, grabbing her brother by the collar. "How did this happen?!"

Before anyone could move, the towering figure behind Yorinobu stepped forward.

Adam Hammer. A combat juggernaut—96% cybernetic. Survivor of two corporate wars. The iron fist of Arasaka Security. Everyone in Night City knew his name.

Behind Hanako, another figure moved forward just as quickly: Oda Santao, the legendary cyber ninja and personal guard to Hanako. Once the apprentice of Takemura Goro, Saburo Arasaka's most trusted bodyguard.

"Adam Hammer!"

"Oda!"

The two barked each other's names and paused, tension thick in the air. Neither backed down, but neither escalated.

"Take me to see Father," Hanako said finally, composing herself. Her mind raced.

How could Saburo Arasaka have been assassinated? With a full guard detail? With Yorinobu present?

Unless… someone on the inside—

No. No proof yet.

For now, she would grieve. But she would not forget.

---

Arasaka Sanatorium

Michiko Arasaka, Hanako's niece, bowed respectfully as Hanako entered.

"Aunt Hanako," she greeted softly.

"Why are you here?" Hanako asked, her voice strained but polite.

"I'm here to accompany you to see Grandfather," Michiko said. "I waited until you arrived."

"You didn't see him earlier?" Hanako's tone sharpened slightly.

"He was undergoing emergency treatment when I arrived," Michiko replied honestly.

Hanako glanced at Yorinobu out of the corner of her eye. Her suspicions deepened. But she kept her face calm and gave a slight nod.

"Let's go together."

"Yes, Aunt Hanako."

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