Cyberpunk: The Ultimate Saga

"Thanks for the intel. Drop me an account number—I'll wire you the payment."

Baileyson, a mid-tier analyst working for a major corp, typed this while sipping his lukewarm espresso in the comfort of his office. The reply came through in less than three hours.

"That was fast," he murmured, glancing up at the clock on the wall. That fast? He had expected the job to take at least a day or two, maybe more depending on resistance or complications. Including travel time, this meant the actual task must've been handled in under an hour.

Still, Baileyson underestimated Leon Black and his crew.

Besides travel, Lena Fox had already processed most of the spoils. Weapons, cybernetics, rare parts—anything salvaged from the scavenger den had either been sold or discreetly logged. Their ability to monetize battlefield leftovers wasn't just luck. It was strategy. Precision.

Profiting from a fight wasn't just about killing. It required knowledge. What to keep, what to strip, what to sell, and what to encrypt. That's why Leon pushed every member of the crew to stay updated, stay trained, and most importantly—stay aware.

Among them, Lena Fox and Lily Cross, the team's procurement and finance duo, were in a league of their own. With one glance or a quick feel, they could appraise the value of an item—sometimes better than the manufacturers themselves.

After every mission, it was Lena and Lily who cleaned up the battlefield. Scavengers might be poor, but they occasionally stumbled upon tech they didn't understand. And sometimes—just sometimes—those overlooked treasures turned out to be worth more than the bodies they came from.

Like the black suitcase currently sitting in front of Lena.

It looked like it had been assaulted by an angry mob. Deep gashes from blades, burn marks from fire, and even melted sections hinted someone had tried welding it open. Lena could only stare at it, aghast. Who the hell unboxes biotech gear this way?

On the surface was a faded insignia—black and green leaves twisted into a triple helix. Biotechnology Corp.

"Idiots," she muttered.

Even the dumbest street rat knew that you don't mess with sealed biotech containers unless you want to unleash something you can't put back in.

Silver. Gold. Platinum. Black-Gold. Black-Red.

These were the five ranks of corporate-grade safes.

The black-gold class—the one in front of Lena—was a level-four security container. Just one step down from the black-red, which usually only held world-ending viruses or nuclear launch keys. The fact that this box had ended up in a minor scav hideout was more than suspicious.

It was terrifying.

"There's no way this place was just a random den," Lena whispered.

She didn't waste time. She called Lily Cross for backup and lugged the box over to a squat green machine hidden in an alley behind a shuttered noodle stand. It looked like a vending machine from a distance.

But it was actually a Point-Level Object Conveyor—a miracle of emergency logistics technology.

Sure, it had limits on size and weight, but it was perfect for situations like this. Lena placed the box on the conveyor's shelf. A scanner passed a green light over it. A white laser etched a tracking code onto the side. A few seconds later, the compartment door opened, and the case dropped into the tunnel system beneath Night City.

Destination locked. Delivery in under three minutes.

Of course, services like this weren't free. This one cost her nearly 3,000 credits.

"Let's hope this gamble pays off," Lena said with a sigh, then disappeared into the industrial sprawl.

---

Less than ten minutes later, a biotech retrieval squad arrived.

Leading them was a hulking figure—nearly two meters tall, sporting spiky green hair and a studded leather jacket open to reveal bronze-hued, vein-pulsing muscles.

His veins glowed red. Not with blood, but with chemically enhanced synthetic plasma—pure explosive power.

"Spread out. Leave nothing unchecked," the man ordered in a gravelly voice. As he stepped forward, the pavement darkened under his boots.

The squad—cold, disciplined, and outfitted in biotech's trademark armored suits—dispersed without a word. From a large van, they unleashed bio-hounds—canine hybrids with exposed muscle tissue, glowing red eyes, and black drool dripping from serrated jaws.

The hounds sniffed and tore through the scene with unsettling urgency.

Soon, the squad's forensic lead approached.

"Commander," he reported, "we found seven incomplete bodies in the abandoned factory."

"Someone broke in and took another person. Transporter was used. Cameras were disabled. All image data wiped."

The scene, though gruesome, was clean. Professional.

"Any clues on the intruder?" the commander asked.

The forensic lead shook his head and gestured toward one of the bio-hounds, now pacing in confused circles. "No scent. No trace. Whoever did this erased everything."

Of course Lena had taken precautions. She knew the box was biotech, and that meant heat—attention, pursuit, and retaliation. If Mike Taylor had been here, he'd have just leveled the place, erasing all evidence with brute force. But this time, they needed subtlety.

Leon Black had handled the fight swiftly and efficiently, giving Lena ample time to prep and vanish without leaving a trail.

"Check the express delivery logs. Find where the package was sent," the commander growled. "If you fail, don't bother coming back."

With that, he climbed into his vehicle and roared away.

The remaining security team nodded grimly. No complaints. No fear. Just obedience.

They scattered to track the package.

---

On the other end of the delivery system, Lily Cross waited at a hidden node near the edge of Highwood. Dressed in a black bodysuit with a helmet that masked her identity, she leaned against a sleek red motorcycle.

The conveyor hummed.

In a blink of green light, the box materialized.

Without hesitation, Lily placed it inside a shielded silver case, secured it in the bike's compartment, and sped off—no tracks, no time to waste.

---

Meanwhile, atop the Biotech Corp. Tower, a heavy fist smashed into a steel desk, shattering it instantly.

The man behind the blow snarled.

The tracking beacon inside the case had gone dark.

It had moved fast—too fast. When the signal began to blur, he sent an intercept team, but it was too late. During delivery, items became isolated in deep underground tunnels, shielded from all scans.

Still, he caught a glimpse of the box's last known area. He had a lead.

Only a handful of object conveyors operated in Highwood. Finding a witness wouldn't be hard. Not with Biotech's resources.

---

Elsewhere, in a quiet diner...

V was halfway through her meal when a furious woman slammed her palms on the table across from her.

"Who the hell are you?" V raised an eyebrow, spoon paused mid-air.

"Where's Xiao Ai?" The woman had roses tattooed down her arms and bright green-and-pink hair. Her fists clenched tightly as she stared daggers at V.

"Xiao Ai? You talking about Evelyn Parker?"

"Don't play dumb!" the woman snapped. "Tell me where she is!"

"Whoa, whoa—slow down." V set her spoon down and raised her hands. "Evelyn Parker? Yeah, I know her. What happened? Who are you?"

"None of your business! Just tell me where she is!"

"Lady," V said, voice going cold, "you got two choices: calm down and talk, or I put a bullet through you."

The stranger hesitated, glanced at the gun V had casually placed on the table. The room felt colder.

"I'm Judy Alvarez," she finally said, voice trembling slightly. "I'm Evelyn's friend. I'm just trying to find her."

V exhaled and picked up her spoon again. "You could've started with that."

"She's been missing for a week," Judy continued. "I'm worried. I heard she was last with you."

"That's true," V nodded. "She gave me a job. I've been trying to find her too."

Judy's confidence wavered. Another dead end?

"Did she leave anything? A note, message, anything?" V asked.

"She just said she was about to hit it big," Judy replied quietly. "Then she vanished."

"Classic. Sounds like she tried to bypass her handlers and go straight to the prize. Bold, but dangerous."

"She didn't have many friends. I'm probably the closest she had."

V thought for a moment, then asked, "Want me to help you look for her?"

Judy blinked. "You'd do that?"

"I've got my own reasons. I need to know what she was planning. But I've got enemies watching me. I can't move around in the open."

"I can help with that," Judy said quickly. "I'll make you a synthetic mask. Optical shielding. Undetectable."

"You can do that?" V looked intrigued.

"I'm not just a Braindance editor. I'm a top-tier one. I know tech, deep-web work, disguise systems—everything."

If Judy wasn't so fiercely independent, she could've been rich by now. Her editing skills were second to none.

"Alright," V said, finishing the last bite of rice. "I'm in. Let's go find her."

pàtreøn (Gk31)