Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077

Leo learned from the laptop's files that Arasaka could remotely shut down any employee's implants at will.

So, before going rogue, Zank had recruited a tech expert to modify his gear, shutting off its corporate monitoring and switching everything to offline mode. Arasaka hadn't noticed a thing—one reason he managed to survive his former comrade's pursuit.

But Arasaka was still Arasaka. Their tech far surpassed what any back-alley ripperdoc could handle. Though Zank's implants hadn't been disabled remotely, they triggered other security protocols, aggravating what had once been mild cyberpsychosis until it escalated into a severe, end-stage condition. 

He cracked completely.

That explained why he had holed up in that dilapidated shack, living among piles of garbage.

…

After a while on the road, the small town's outline came into view. Leo hesitated, deciding not to drive all the way in. That unfulfilled job request still weighed on his mind. It was his very first contract since arriving in this world. Call it obsession or stubbornness—he simply felt unwilling to give it up.

Besides, he had a hunch he hadn't really been stood up. Something else must have happened to make him miss his client.

He opened the driver's side door. 

"Get out."

The townsman gaped. "What're you doing?"

"You go on ahead to the sheriff. I've got something to handle and will catch up with you later."

Once he'd sent the man on his way, Leo spun the wheel, letting the SUV fishtail around before heading toward the outlying radio tower. If his client wanted him to transport something into Night City, it meant they were likely still out in the Badlands. He needed a little help from a friend.

…

Ten minutes later, Leo climbed the broadcasting tower on the town's outskirts. The wind whipped around his ears. Below him lay the entire settlement, and beyond it stretched the city so many people dreamed of—Night City.

After taking in the view, he flipped open the tower's access panel, hooking the booster cable inside to his radio. With a bit of tinkering, he managed to reach the person he wanted.

"Hey, McCoy."

"Leo?" The voice on the other end sounded surprised and pleased.

"I never thought you'd leave me that family heirloom."

"I figured you'd spot it eventually. Murasame's much more useful with you than with me. Take good care of it." McCoy paused. "But I'm guessing you didn't climb that tower just to tell me that?"

Leo got straight to the point. "I need your help."

"Leo, the Badlands belong to the nomads. Now that you've chosen to leave the family, I can't exactly help you."

Leo rolled his eyes. "Never figured you to be such a timid rule-follower."

"Call it loyalty. Rules are rules. No freebies. If you were still Bakker, it'd be another story. You should follow the others and join Snake Nation."

"Same old answer, huh? Joining Snake Nation is gonna backfire sooner or later."

"Oh yeah? I'm in Snake Nation now. Think I'll regret it?"

"Hard to say." The wind battered Leo's hair. "But if something goes down, you know where to find me. I'll have your back."

"Heh, I'll hold you to that. Fine, what do you need?"

"I'm supposed to meet a client for a delivery, but he never showed. I did everything according to plan. Maybe he left me a message somewhere. You think you can help?"

"Sure, but this'll be the last time. Give me the client's name."

"Jackie Welles."

Silence on the other end lasted a good half-minute.

"Huh. Got a hit. He's waiting at a farm, sending you the location now."

"Thanks, McCoy. I owe you twice."

"Sure do. Don't go getting yourself killed, or I'll have to eat your funeral grub instead."

…

Leo climbed down from the tower and returned to town to see the sheriff. The man still had his usual arrogant air, but the local who'd arrived earlier was nowhere to be seen. Now it was just the two of them in the office.

"I hear you dealt with that troublemaker for me," the sheriff said.

"Yep. So pay up. I know you don't want me hanging around. Hand over the cash, and I'm gone."

But the sheriff made no move for his wallet. Instead, he treated Leo to an unsettling smile.

"Which family camp are you from?"

Leo narrowed his eyes. "And what does that have to do with our business?"

"Plenty. I want you gone—back to wherever you came from."

Leo folded his arms across his chest. He knew this wouldn't be so simple. "I'm not going anywhere until I get what I'm owed."

"Owed? As far as I recall, I already paid you."

Leo's expression darkened. He was easygoing, but no doormat.

"You're screwing with me?"

"Watch your mouth, boy. I'm an upright resident." The sheriff smirked as if he couldn't see the thundercloud on Leo's face. "You weren't here the whole time, were you? You visited the radio tower first?"

"So what?"

"That tower's town property, and using it ain't free. Normally, out-of-towners gotta shell out five thousand eurodollars each time. But lucky for you, you did me a favor with that psycho, so we'll just call it even. Now run along, dog—you're in my way."

Leo didn't move. The sheriff's face twisted, and he stood from his seat, popping open his holster. His right hand settled on his revolver's grip.

"You know, I'm the law here. I can execute troublemakers on sight. It's my legal right. So either you walk out of here, or I shoot you and have your corpse dumped. I suggest you think twice, 'cause I served in the Silver Shotgun forces. My draw time's 40 milliseconds."

"Forty milliseconds, huh?" Leo showed no hint of fear. His left hand rested on his katana's sheath, making his intentions perfectly clear.

The sheriff sneered, unimpressed. Seven steps or not, a gun was still faster and deadlier than any blade. "I gave you a chance, stray dog. This is on you."

He leaned his upper body back, preparing to draw. But one second before he could pull his revolver free, he saw Leo's katana flying straight at him—faster than any draw he'd ever done.

Completely unprepared, the sheriff took the hilt to the face. It flung him through the office window, headfirst into the trash outside.

Leo followed up calmly. "I gave you a chance, Sheriff. This was your choice. Don't blame me.

Now about that money."

…

"You call this a farm?"

After leaving the sheriff's office, Leo drove out of town to the location McCoy had mentioned. He couldn't help feeling McCoy's definition of "farm" might be off. It looked more like another crude Badlands shack, built from corrugated steel, plastic, plywood, and a pile of random materials. There was a car parked behind it, so clearly someone was inside.

Pulling out the key, Leo tucked it into his pocket and gripped Murasame at his waist. He stepped inside.

The shack looked every bit as rundown on the inside as it did from the outside. He had no idea how long it had been since anyone lived there. Cockroaches scurried across the floor.