Cyberpunk: The Ultimate Saga

"You're going to Pacifica?" Viktor asked, settling back into his worn-out work chair after finishing treatment on V.

"Yeah. Whether it's to figure out who ordered Evelyn to steal the chip or to get a clearer picture of their motives, I've got to go," V said, sitting upright. "Even if it's just to keep Judy in the loop, I still have to go."

"That place isn't exactly tourist-friendly," Viktor muttered, setting his tools aside. "If you don't have someone to vouch for you, you'll have a gun pointed at your head the moment you cross the border."

"That's why Dexter called in a favor."

"He roughed you up, and you still trust him?" Viktor gave V a look, fully aware of where his injuries came from.

"At least he didn't kill me," V said with a dry chuckle, lightly touching his bandaged side. "Thought I had everything under control. Turns out I was just being naive."

"Well, looks like you're finally learning. That's not such a bad thing," Viktor said, chuckling. "Growth always comes with pain."

"Yeah. I'll be more cautious from now on. Don't want to die without even knowing how it happened." V made a mental note to pick up some proper disguise tech—preferably military-grade.

Ding-a-ling-ling~

V's communicator buzzed.

"Hello, V." A low male voice echoed through the line.

"Who are you?" V asked, immediately on alert.

"Oh? Didn't Dexter mention me? If you show up in Pacifica without my say-so, things will get very ugly."

"You're Mr. Hands—the fixer in Pacifica!" V recognized the voice immediately.

"Good reaction," Hands said, clearly pleased. "Looks like you're not just another rookie."

"I wouldn't go that far. What do you need from me?"

"A small job. Handle it, and I'll let you into Pacifica."

"What's the job?"

"Simple. Kill someone."

"Who?"

"Seihou Jou Tarou. Member of the Tiger Claw Gang. You'll find the details in the attachment."

Beep beep beep~

The call ended abruptly, leaving V staring at her communicator with a scowl. No option to refuse. No discussion. No human rights for a bottom-rung merc.

Ding~

Mission file received.

V opened the file and her eyes widened. The charges against the target were stacked to the sky—extortion, kidnapping, murder, underground casinos, human trafficking, illegal prostitution rings, sex doll manufacturing, narcotics.

"Wow. They really checked off every box."

Not surprising. The Tiger Claw Gang was notorious across Night City. Primarily made up of Japanese members and other Asians, the gang operated like a blend of the Yakuza and Triads, with their own rigid hierarchy and iron-fist rules.

They were a well-oiled crime machine—and a cancer in the eyes of the public and NCPD alike.

"This is suicide," Viktor muttered after reading the details. "Hit one of them and they come back with a swarm. You'll have to vanish fast or they'll hunt you down for weeks."

"Exactly why I need a solid plan," V said, her face grim. This wasn't like fighting some chaotic Vortex punks. Even the lowest-ranking Tiger Claws had deep connections. You couldn't just take out one and expect the rest to scatter.

"Viktor… can I borrow more eddies?" V asked. "I need more implants."

---

Lena Fox watched Leon Black from a short distance as he took notes from a shop assistant, jotting down everything in a small, leather-bound book.

Suddenly, it clicked.

She finally understood why Leon remained so composed, even after two massive bombshells dropped—Arasaka Saburo's death and Takemura Goro's betrayal.

Yes, Arasaka Saburo was a powerful figure. But real control over Night City now lay with Arasaka Yorinobu. His father's death would shake the upper echelons, sure, but it wouldn't ripple down to those actually doing the work.

Corporate purges rarely touched the bottom rungs—especially when manpower was in short supply.

That's why Leon didn't flinch. He knew better.

Takemura, however, was still in their lane, which is why Leon was now following the lead that brought them here.

According to the assistant, a man who looked just like Takemura dined here last night—with a woman.

To dig deeper, Leon requested the restaurant's surveillance footage.

Naturally, it had been deleted. But that didn't stop him.

"Lena," Leon motioned her over, gesturing at the monitor.

They thought deleting footage would cover their tracks?

In a world where even human souls could be digitized, hiding secrets was harder than ever. Deleting files was just a smokescreen.

Takemura wasn't a netrunner. Clearing the hard drive was already overly cautious by his standards. But unfortunately for him, Lena Fox was no ordinary hacker. She was a master-level netrunner with custom gear strong enough to breach Blackwall protocols.

Within a minute, the data was restored. Footage came to life.

They rewound to last night.

There he was—Takemura in a basic disguise. A cap. Different coat.

"Come on, man," Lena muttered. "You're ex-Arasaka. Put in some effort."

Opposite him was V, looking like hell. Bruised, battered, but recognizable by the facial recognition software.

The ninja-turned-rogue and the green merc had finally met.

"Lena, scrub the footage so it only shows Takemura alone. Then send that to HQ. Erase the rest completely," Leon ordered.

Lena nodded, fingers flying over her keyboard. Within moments, the edited footage was transmitted.

A reply came back instantly. Awaiting further instructions.

"Alright, job's done. Let's get something to eat," Leon said, stretching with a satisfied grin.

"Dinner might have to wait," Lena replied, glancing at her incoming message. "Ethan just pinged us."

"Dogtown? Songbird?" Lena raised an eyebrow. "You think this has anything to do with Saburo's death?"

Leon chuckled. "Arasaka Michiko, huh? She thinks she found the key."

The message was clear: someone had traced a hacker signature—Songbird—at Konpeki Plaza around the time of Saburo's death. Michiko wanted them to investigate.

"Looks like we're being used," Leon said flatly.

"Yep." Lena smiled, closing the message app. She knew the truth about Saburo's death—and it had nothing to do with Songbird. Michiko clearly wanted them to chase ghosts.

"Did they mention any reward?"

"Ten thousand."

Leon scoffed. "Ten thousand? For someone the New America President personally ordered to be hunted? They must think we're idiots."

"President Myers?" Lena's brows furrowed. "Is she that important?"

"She's New America's iron-fist. The woman Songbird escaped from." Leon shrugged. "Apparently, Songbird was some top-tier hacker who just wanted freedom. Now she's got military forces on her tail."

"So we're not getting involved?"

"Nope. Not enough cash." Leon glanced toward the orange sky. "And some fights just aren't worth it."

---

The Badlands

Inside a dusty old trailer, a tall man with green hair sat across from Dakota.

"Hess! Didn't expect you to show up," Dakota said coldly, keeping her hand near the pistol under the table.

Sis Weis, Deputy Head of Biotech Operations, smirked.

"I didn't want to come either," Hess said, voice smooth and sarcastic. He reached out and gripped the arm of the guard who had tried to frisk him.

The guard shriveled up in seconds—like a raisin under the sun—and collapsed.

Dakota stood up in rage. "This is my territory, Hess! You don't get to pull that crap here!"

"Oh, Dakota~" Hess flipped his shaggy green hair aside, revealing cold, vertical pupils.

Snake Eyes. A rare implant. Capable of thermal scans, psychological destabilization, and targeted fear.

Dakota looked away quickly, breaking eye contact. Even then, she felt her blood run cold.

Her body wasn't literally freezing—it was psychosomatic disorientation. Had she stared any longer, her mind would've interpreted death as reality. And she would've died simply from believing it.

"Good instincts," Hess said with a twisted grin. "But why fight it, Dakota? Give me the intel, and you can go back to being Queen of this desert dump."

"Fixers stand on trust," she said through clenched teeth.

Hess deactivated the implant and dropped into her chair, kicking his feet up.

"You've misunderstood. This isn't a request. It's an order. Think about your people, your reputation. You're not alone."

Silence filled the room. Finally, Dakota sighed, looking at the lifeless body of her guard.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anyone come by for a shady deal recently?"

"Two groups. One group of nomads. The other… I couldn't identify."

"Couldn't identify?"

"They were from the city. Two men, one woman. Asian. Very young. I found this," she said, pulling a crushed, button-sized listening device from her desk drawer.

Hess examined it. "No camera footage?"

"They disabled it. Faces were distorted. Had a netrunner with them."

Hess pocketed the device. "Send me what you have. We'll reconstruct it."

As he turned to leave, Hess glanced back. "Next time, Dakota, choose your deals more wisely. You never know when a storm's coming."

And with that, he was gone.

Øóffer going on for diamond tier

pàtreøn (Gk31)