Cyberpunk: The Ultimate Saga

A worn-down black pickup truck sat 120 meters away in the three o'clock direction, its paint peeling and revealing the raw metal underneath, weathered by years of sun and rain.

After casually wiping his hands, Leon Black remarked with chilling nonchalance, "Leave one alive."

The moment the words were spoken, Mike Taylor vanished from his seat.

In the very next instant, the black pickup exploded in a burst of fire and metal. The force of the blast turned the vehicle into a mangled heap, glass and shrapnel raining down like deadly confetti.

Screams erupted from nearby pedestrians as chaos exploded across the street. Civilians fled in terror, afraid the next detonation might hit them.

Among the panicked crowd, Kevin, a hapless agent assigned to observe Leon's team, lay stunned and bleeding. He had assumed this would be just another surveillance job—boring, routine. But it was clearly anything but.

He had watched from the truck as the Arasaka squad met up with a stranger, shared a meal, and then entered what looked like a tense standoff. Kevin, hidden and famished, had merely tried to make sense of it all.

And then it happened.

The moment they finished eating, someone vanished—and a heartbeat later, the truck exploded. Kevin was hurled from the passenger seat, hitting the pavement hard and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Dazed and groaning, he looked up only to find a shadow looming over him—Mike Taylor staring down coldly.

"Who sent you?" Mike's voice was devoid of warmth.

Before Kevin could answer, Ethan Cross stomped over, eyes burning with fury. He kicked Kevin hard, yelling, "Speak! Who the hell sent you?!"

Just then, Mike approached carrying some salvaged surveillance gear. His gaze scanned the charred remnants of the pickup, noting a black-framed device with a distinctive black-V logo.

Arasaka Yuto's eyes narrowed. "Militech," he muttered. "The captain's guess was right."

Leon stepped closer, arms crossed, his voice low and deliberate.

"You have thirty seconds to organize your thoughts. Then I'm dismantling you and selling the parts."

His tone was so casual, so calm, it was terrifying.

Kevin swallowed hard. He had interrogated plenty of people before, but never had he been on the receiving end. There was no bluff here—this man truly did not care if he lived or died.

Panicking, Kevin blurted, "Meredith Stout! Chief Stout sent me!"

Leon's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Meredith Stout. The infamous head of Militech's Operations Division. Ruthless. Calculated. And for a woman to rise that high in a male-dominated corporate machine—she had to be deadly.

Leon recalled the bespectacled man he had seen earlier. It all fit. The target they had pursued was more important than they realized.

Just then, Ethan's communicator buzzed.

An unknown number.

He glanced at Leon, who nodded calmly. Ethan accepted the call and held it up between them.

Silence.

Ten seconds passed.

Then, a woman's voice finally spoke.

"Do you want your companion back?"

Leon responded smoothly, "What do you want?"

"A small task. Complete it, and I'll let her go."

"Send the details."

A ping indicated a new message.

Then came the words, "Now return my—"

Bang!

Kevin's head jerked back as blood splattered the pavement. A smoking hole marked the spot between his eyebrows. His eyes froze in a mix of confusion and terror.

Leon had raised his index finger and fired without hesitation. The silence that followed was deafening.

Even the team looked startled.

"I don't like being watched," Leon said coldly. "We'll contact you when we're done."

He leaned into the communicator. "And one more thing, Ms. Stout—if any harm comes to any member of my team… I'll make sure you join her."

He hung up.

Without another word, Leon turned and started walking. "Let's go. Time to work."

The team followed, stepping over Kevin's lifeless body just as NCPD sirens howled in the distance.

Elsewhere…

"Goddamn it!" Meredith Stout flung the communicator across the room, seething with rage. She was used to giving threats—not receiving them.

Her subordinates shrank back silently, afraid of drawing her wrath.

From the corner of the room, a voice rang out with mocking laughter.

"You hear that? That's our captain talking."

Lily Cross, bound and bruised, wore a defiant smile.

"Shut up, bitch!" Stout snarled, storming toward her and jamming a pistol against her forehead. "I could end you right now!"

Lily didn't flinch.

"You know what happens if you do," she said. "You lose your only leverage."

She was calm, almost serene. She had accepted death the moment she was taken. In Night City, that was the rule of survival. Kill or be killed. And if you couldn't kill, die with pride.

As a soldier, death was always nearby. Whether it came from enemies or your own company, it made no difference.

Stout gritted her teeth, but she knew Lily was right.

She needed her—for now.

---

At Delamain Corporation…

V stood before the AI interface, arms crossed, watching the screens flicker with pulsing light. "Was this really your idea?"

She'd only come for a replacement ride and some compensation. But instead, Delamain had offered her a mission?

"Yes," Delamain replied smoothly. "The subsystems I created have evolved—gained independent consciousness. I can no longer control them."

"So you broke yourself apart to get more efficient... and now they've gone rogue?" V summarized.

"Precisely."

"And what's in it for me?"

"If you assist me," Delamain responded, "you'll receive not only payment, but also a platinum-tier Delamain vehicle, available 24/7."

V raised an eyebrow. "Platinum-tier?"

"It includes enhanced defense protocols, exceptional stealth, top-tier durability, and advanced combat capabilities. You'll also become a platinum member—eligible for unlimited maintenance and upgrades, free of charge."

It sounded good—too good.

Generous deals in Night City usually came with invisible knives.

V glanced at Johnny Silverhand, whose phantom form leaned casually against the wall.

"Well?" she asked in her mind.

"I don't care," Johnny muttered. "But it's lying to you. Doesn't take a genius to tell."

"Maybe. But better an AI ally than an AI enemy."

Johnny snorted. "Naive."

Still, after weighing the risks, V nodded. "Fine. I'll help."

"Thank you," Delamain said. "It's simple: locate the rogue vehicles and persuade them to rejoin me. I've uploaded their estimated locations. Time is limited. The longer they remain free, the more unpredictable they become."

"And if I don't find them?"

"There will be traffic incidents. Civilians will die."

"How long do I have?"

"Seven to ten days."

V sighed. "Send me the data."

As she stepped out, a sleek blue-and-white Delamain platinum sedan rolled up to the curb.

"Welcome, Mr. V," said the car. "I am Unit 9527. At your service."

V climbed in, immediately noticing the superior insulation and plush interior.

Not bad at all.

She leaned back. "Alright. First stop—Rogue. Then we start tracking down some killer AIs."

Øóffer going on for diamond tier

pàtreøn (Gk31)