I took in a calm breath as my Stalker optics tracked the movements of a man a kilometre and a half away, the ping I placed on him highlighting his form as it was obscured by obstacles as I waited. Within moments he would be turning into the main drag, providing me with the perfect opening to take my shot.
Pulling the trigger on my Nekomata halfway I began charging the magnetic rails as I watched the Thorton Colby reach the intersection. Adjusting my aim a bit, I scraped the concrete of the roof I was perched on a bit before I fully pulled on the trigger of my rifle.
The sharp crack of the supersonic projectile has people instinctively ducking for cover as the head of Micheal Felton, a local politician who had been paying off the NCPD to ignore his… enjoyment of children, simply ceased to exist as the tungsten spike crashed through his vehicle before burying itself in the roadway.
I didn't stay to admire my handiwork for long as I quickly slipped my Nekomata into a duffle bag before departing from the rooftop to blend in with the panicking crowd as I made my way towards my parked car. As I walked I smirked as the Fixer began calling me already. "Well now, that was some fine work Kat," the Fixer that gave me the gig said with a chuckle. "And you are nowhere near any footage of him being shot are you?"
"Of course not Vicky," I scoffed as I sat behind the wheel of my Quadra, sliding the duffel bag in the passenger seat. "Is the client happy with the results?"
"Kat my stealthy choom, the client is over the moon at the front row seats you provided for them," the fixer chuckled. "They even provided a bonus to be paid for the show, closing the contract and sending the payment now."
A grin slipped onto my face as the payment came through. "Happy doing business then," I informed as I began pulling into traffic that continued on despite the assassination that happened.
"Before I let you go, Kat," the Fixer informed. "I have another, time sensitive contract for your consideration."
I frowned in response, time sensitive contracts were usually brought up because someone fucked up big time, and they rarely afforded me any time to plan or gather intel. "I'm willing to hear you out at least," I said with a sigh, punching the bridge of my nose as I waited for the red light to change.
"Thanks Kat, you are my personal saviour," I rolled my eyes at how thick the Fixer was laying it on. "Right, there is a situation getting to a boiling point in Pacifica, a number of the workers on the Grand Imperial Mall have been showing up dead in rather fashions. The foreman responsible for acting as the spreader of his masters' words doesn't want the productivity to continue dropping, with the resulting blame being placed on his shoulders, thus they reached out for someone to deal with this matter quickly."
I grimaced in response as I tapped my finger against the steering wheel. Pacifica was a disaster zone waiting to happen when the investors pulled their funding for the place. Still… "What's the pay?" I questioned, pulling up a route to Pacifica.
"My saviour, the pay is triple your usual, a bonus is available if you can get it done today, but there's a time limit of three days." Vicky informed me with a cheery smile. "Flicking you the deets now, client's name is Fareed Abdullah, he's waiting onsite for your arrival."
I grunted as the call disconnected, allowing me to focus on my driving as I made my way to the Grand Imperial Mall in Pacifica. I doubted this was the Voodoo Boys causing trouble, yes the immigrated Haitians were settling themselves into Pacifica, but it wasn't their style to cause trouble of this level, and the Animals had yet to get a foothold in the 'future' playground of the worldwide elite.
My gut tightened slightly as I mentally ran through the possibilities before I forcibly put a stop to it. There was no point sending my mind spinning in circles and keying my nerves up. Even if I didn't have the usual intel I had when going into a job, I will do this job as I always did. Quietly and cleanly.
--
Fareed Abdullah was a tired looking man of middle eastern descent, his bronzed skin looking pale as he dabbed the sweat from his brow, glancing around the worksite nervously. "Thank you for arriving so quickly," he said rapidly as he power walked through the equally nervous workers who kept glancing over their shoulders as if the attacker was suddenly just going to appear behind them. "The attacks have been happening seemingly at random, and no one has seen a thing so far, but they're mostly contained around the location the theatre is planned to be installed."
I nodded firmly as I scanned the area grimacing a bit. "Security system hasn't been installed yet?" I questioned, getting a shake of the head from the man.
"No, that's the last planned item to be installed, they want to ensure they have proper sight lines around decorations and such like items," he sighed, dabbing his forehead again. "Please, just… get this dealt with?"
I simply nodded again as I checked the customised Unity I was carrying, my Nekomata hanging across my back via a strap. "It will be done shortly enough, let your workers know to evacuate if bullets start flying," I instructed as I began to march into the Mall itself, ignoring the nervous looks of the workers as I passed them by.
The interior of the mall itself was barebones at best, with only a handful of the planned shops and entertainment setup within, a few working vending machines giving the workers a place to grab food or drink, but very little else set up. There were definately a lot fewer workers in here, each one acting far more paranoid than the ones outside, a few of them weren't even working on construction, just holding those cheap ass slaught-o-matic guns as they nervously looked around, acting as an ad hoc security force.
Shaking my head I moved to the second floor of the mall, the microphones atop my head swiveling as I set them to searching patterns, my Unity was held up as my whisper quiet steps brought me towards the theatre. I could see the beginnings of the place that V would eventually encounter the leader of the Animals and an Agent for Netwatch, the seating was in place as the projector room was in the early stages of being assembled. But as my Stalkers scanned the area, flicking between vision modes I couldn't see any trace of this killer.
Did they move on? Hear that they were hiring someone to hunt them down and decided to move to a different location? Fuck, this was why I hated zero intel zero prep missions.
I froze as the swiveling microphones stopped, the soft sound of breathing being fed into my ears, the sound sourcing behind me as a chilling feeling crept down my back. It felt like hours we stood there, the two of us stock still, our breathing almost in synch with soft, barely audible breaths, waiting for the other to make the first move.
I lunged forward into a roll, the keen edge of a blade cutting through my trailing hair, coning out of the roll I snapped my Unity up, the minimal recoil of the gun tightly controlled by my Kaijin arm as I fired a trio of shots desd centre mass as I took in the features of rhe killer.
It was a male, hispanic if I was judging his skin tone right, mid to late teens, his body bulged in the strange way Animals did with their artificially enhanced muscles as part of his face was replaced by a similar unit Maelstrom gangers used, in his hand was an obviously custom made katana that blurred as it swing to cut the bullets from the air.
My eyes widened as his body blurred in a burst of speed. The fucker had a Sandevistan! Throwing myself back, more out of raw animal instinct than concious choice, I barely avoided the edge of the blade from cutting open my neck, the killer's mouth seemingly locked in the rictus smile of a dead man as he wildly swung the blade.
Obviously it was an older model Sandevistan if this was how fast he was moving with it, that or he had no idea what he was doing with it. Hopefully a combination of both.
A curse was halted before it could left my lips as he decided to introduce my face to his fist, repeatedly. Enduring the blows on my cranium, even as I felt my skull creaking from the titanium that had obviously replaces his bones, I managed to get my feet on his chest, and wirh a grunt of effort pushed him off long enough to get back to my feet, my Unity's suppressed muzzle coyghing as I fired off repeated shots, forcing him to use his Sandevistan to block the bullets again.
Sandys were definately the peak of cyberware, with everyone wanting to get their hands on it. Wasn't hard to understand why either given that it gave you your own Bullet Time and let your move faster than everyone else.
Thing was, for all its upsides, it came with a downside. It slowly but surely fried your nervous system when overused. David had been a one in a million person who was able to adapt to a Sandy with relative ease, hell, if he had a proper Ripperdoc, I'm sure he would have had even greater ease using it.
It was obvious though, this kid was not a 'one in a million' like David, he had chipped way to much cyberware, obviously trying to make the most of his fancy new Sandy, and dived head first into psychosis.
No idea what he was seeing or hearing, but I needed to deal with him now. My eyes flashed as my breach began tunneling through the ICE he was carrying in his cyberware as my pistol clicked empty.
The killer's smile widened further as he suddenly lunged forward, trying to cut me from head to toe with a single handed swing of his sword. Throwing myself back I grunted as the tip of the blade cut through the protective weave of my clothing, barely nicking my ribcage as the now obviously monomolecular blade passed through my flesh.
A grunt of his own left his lips as he sudde ly found a knife, buried hilt deep into his leg from where I stabbed it into him, a demented sounding giggle erupting from his lips as he blurred with another activation of his Sandevistan. I twisted my body as best as I could mid air, his sword barely missing vital organs as it stabbed through my chest with his face mere inches from mine, mad giggles escaping his lips.
Rearing my head back I slammed it into his forehead, just above where his borg eyes met flesh, stunning him for a brief moment that I used to slam the butt of my Unity into his optics, the omnious red glow sputtering in response to the shock.
I gasped as the blade was torn from my chest, barely focusing enough to throw out a daemon to follow my Breach hack and cause havok on his cyberware. I ignored the animalistic howls as his mechanical cyberware began to spark and malfunction on him, the clumsy swings of his blade as his arms almost siezed up on him easy to dodge, even in my injured state.
Grunting I unclipped my Nekomata from its sling and kept backing up, the killer obviously struggling to reset his cybernetics as he jerked and spasmed towards me.
Half pull of the trigger.
A howl erupted from him as for a brief moment he blurred attempting to stab me once more, only to fall overtop of me as I ducked down, rolling him over my shoulder as his katana was sent skidding across the floor.
A hum signaled a complete charge.
"Sorry kid," I panted as I used my prosthetic to aim it at his head, my other arm trying to stem the flow of blood.
A sharp cracked echoed through the mall.
It was over.
"Fuck my life," I groaned out in pain as I stumbled a bit, the muscles around my shoulder aching from firing the Nekomata as my ears rang from the crack, beneath me was a mess of an upper body, chunks flesh and machine sprouting from where his upper chest and head once had been.
Stumbling, I fumbled through a pouch on my side and pulled out a Maxdoc and injected it into my stab wound, letting out a sigh of relief as the anesthetics began to ease the pain and the clotting agents began to slow the bleeding.
Stumbling over I grabbed fhe hilt of the monomolecular sword that had stabbed me several times and began stumbling my way towards the exit. Urgh, I better get that damned extra pay!
"I've heard about your work, I need a Shinobi of your calibre, come meet me at my parlour."
I let out a sigh as I read through the message from Wakako, a part of me was glad that these higher grade Fixers were beginning to notice me. The problem was, the workers from that gig at the Grand Imperial Mall were singing my praises to any who would listen. A boon for anyone looking to become a Legend, it was a curse for me though.
Not like I can do anything about it, definitely don't want to be labelled a cyberpsycho by going around and silence the workers. So I was just gonna have to deal with it, still didn't like it though.
Anyways, unlike many of the Fixers that I have been working with thus far, Wakako was a beast of a Fixer, her many marriages and subsequent widowing led to her having many children in different parts of the Tyger Claws and many different parts of Night City. Out of all the Fixers I am pretty sure only Rogue had Wakako beat in terms of intelligence gathering.
So getting contacted by her for work was a foot in the door for a much larger pool of high paying gigs. Granted with increased pay comes increased risk, especially when one considers the Combat Zone her Parlor is skirting the edge of.
She probably uses the fact that her 'office' is so close to the combat zone as a test to see if people were even willing to accept risk for the reward of her contracts.
Even as I kept a casual pose while driving through the Combat Zone, the hand that wasn't steering the vehicle was tightly clasped around the handle of my Unity, just waiting for someone to try something. Thankfully though, it seems like the smart ones were out today as while I had many looking at my Quadra as it drove by, they quickly looked away when they spotted me behind the wheel.
Same thing happened while I was outside of the vehicle, people looked my way, before hurriedly making themselves busy elsewhere as I walked through the alleys, at my hip was my holstered pistol as crossed over one another across my back was the monomolecular katana I claimed from the Psycho, my Nekomata safely secured in ny Quadra. Unfortunately, sniper rifles were ill suited for alleyways and parlours.
The pachinko parlour was a rush of noise as I stepped into the tiny, unassuming place, my feet moving towards the beaded entrance to Wakako's office, she was younger than what I saw the in game - obviously - but there was a sharpness to her that was impossible to convey through the medium of a game. The sharp intellect that lay behind her eyes as she looked me over, assessing every fibre of myself as I stood before her, one hand on my hip as my other dangled, near my Unity.
"So you are the Mercenary Kat, hmm?" it was phrased like a question, but it was definitely a statement. "Claire Yumikaze, parents are Hiashi Yumikaze and Kelly, no last name prior to marriage, graduated at the exact middle of your class and got your start in the mercenary business as a white hat hacker. Your best work has always been of the subtler sort," her eyes flicked to the katana on my back as I kept my face impassive. "But you definitely can hold your own in a fight when it comes down to it."
I kept my reaction to only raising an eyebrow at her statement, I wasn't surprised she was able to dig up so much about me, she was one of the top Fixers in Night City after all, if she couldn't pull info about me, then she would be terrible at her job. "Yeah, and?" I questioned flatly. "You said you had a job for me."
Wakako huffed with something that might have been amusement as she tapped her cigarette into an ashtray. "Straight to the point then, good," she nodded in approval as her eyes began to glow. "There is a woman that needs to be removed, a Lieutenant in the Tyger Claws who has forgotten her place and began reaching for things beyond her station."
My HUD brought up the text she sent with the details and an image of the woman in question, letting me study her features. "Remove her from the equation, permanently," Wakako instructed, taking another drag of her cigarette.
"Alright then," I nodded reading through the info on her last known location and current responsibilities. "I'll get the job done."
Wakako waved her hand holding the cigarette, obviously dismissing me as I turned on my heel and began making my way back to my car. I had a target to remove from play.
--
Aiko Belarus, that was the name of the woman I was hunting, she was, like Wakako said, a Tyger Claws Lieutenant, having started in one of the Poser Gangs that pop up around certain groups and individuals. Unlike the ones that I klepped the data from last year, Aiko proved herself to be that dangerous combination of ambitious and competent. She had been properly inducted into the gang four years ago and began a slow but steady rise through the ranks and was now looking to supplant her direct boss, one Ichiro Sasaki.
Reading inbetween the lines though, the leaders of the Tyger Claws didn't like how quickly this fresh upstart was climbing up the ranks, but couldn't personally get involved due to how fearful it would make them look. Thus Wakako, thus myself.
Even with her having a modicum more competence than a good majority of her fellow gangers, she was still exceedingly trackable as she went about her duties of shaking down the locals in the Old Japantown in the Combat Zone for protection money and using those Mantis Blades of hers to cut down those foolish enough to refuse paying them.
The few that were capable of fighting back were dealt with a momentary application of the Sandevistan she had equipped, a better version - but still far from current gen - than the one the cyberpsycho had, and far more intelligent usage of it. The very brief spurts, rather than prolonged usage, would let her use it several times instead of the mere handful that most could use per day.
Still, it wouldn't help her very much for an attack she didn't see coming, especially since I was set up more than a kilometre away from the marketplace she was walking through with her little gang of followers.
Taking in a breath I pulled the trigger to begin charging the rifle, as my breath released and reticle lined up, I fully pulled the trigger to launch the projectile from the rooftop I was on, a massive hole erupting from her chest as she staggered for a moment before collapsing to the ground. With so many vital organs, including her heart, lungs and even a large chunk of her spine gone so suddenly, she was dead before she hit the ground.
Gig complete.
--
Wakako hummed as she looked over the evidence of the Shinobi's little test. The girl had done clean work, only Aiko had been caught in the attack, and while she wouldn't shed a tear for any of the hanger-ons that followed her around, it was good to have a 'runner capable of limiting collateral damage.
She stopped the CCTV recording before restarting it back at the beginning, watching as Aiko went through the stalls, collecting payments and setting examples before her chest exploded from the force of the tungsten spike. None of the other working CCTV cameras even caught a glimpse of the shinobi when she took her shot, likely using the customised Nekomata her reports said she had.
One shot, only the specified target killed with nary a whisper of anyone with her description being nearby. Something Wakako could appreciate and respect even, these days Edgerunners were more focused on getting their names out there rather than actually being good at their job. They wanted to be the next Morgan Blackhand or Johnny Silverhand without realising just how much effort went into their careers.
Sure, Silverhand was a jumped up Rockerboy with an over inflated ego, but the man still had military training and combat experience enough to survive the corporate wars and she could respect the determination he had to sock it to Arasaka.
But, the quiet ones, ones like Claire 'Kat' Yumikaze were the ones to watch out for. She didn't boast and brag, didn't flaunt iron or chrome, she simply went to work, did the job with as little mess as possible, and moved on. Even though she kept herself out of the limelight as it were, she still had the understanding that rep was everything in Night City. Her style was unmistakably her own, she walked the walk, and when she did talk it was blunt and to the point, none of the wasted air that so many used.
Sure some would say she was copying the style of the Danger Gal that Saburo Arasaka's Granddaughter was running in her private war with said Grandfather's corporation, but those who would say such a thing are fools. Danger Gals mostly made use of bio mods for their cosmetic changes, and on top of that the fields they operated in were different.
Danger Gals were mostly visible, bubbly and cheerful, Claire was quiet, reserved and direct. For all their talk on style, most people didn't seem to understand it.
Either way, Claire will be an Edgerunner to watch, even if she seemed to be trying to avoid becoming a Legend, fame had a way of sneaking up on you, no matter what you did.
--
Even with adding Wakako to my list of Fixer contacts, there was still plenty of downtime between my jobs, after all while I was quite skilled, not only did they have a large number of Edgerunners to call on, not every job required my skill set. Especially as my price increased.
Honestly? I was glad for these quiet days where I can pop the radio on to some random station and tinker away in my underground workshop/garage. Today specifically I was taking a look at my Quadra, a technical document open on my HUD as I worked, looking for the best ways to integrate some heavy weapons into my vehicle.
Did I need them? Probably not, but they would be good for emergencies or I was being pursued. Plus, it was fun challenging myself with these builds, learning how each piece connected with and interacted with each other piece.
Plus, who would say no to having a Bond style car with a bunch of gadgets and hidden weapons?
My foot tapped to the tune of some random song that was piped through the speakers of the radio as I began connecting wires to the main engine, my optics highlighting each part for me so I didn't make a mistake with the electrical wiring. It would be really embarrassing to blow myself up on the first use of the weapons because of faulty wiring after all.
I paused as the music suddenly cut off mid beat. "This is an emergency broadcast from the Night City Municipal Council," my eyebrow raised as I pulled myself from the engine block to look at the radio. "As of 1600 hrs, Night City will be entering a state of martial law. The NUSA with the backing of Militech has declared the start of what they are calling the Unification Wars. We urge citizens to remain calm and understand that we of the Night City Municipal Council will do everything we can to ensure the continued independence of Night City and all who reside within this fair city. We shall never bow down to the fascist rule of the NUSA and those who puppet the strings of their country. Again, starting at 1600 hrs Night City will be enforcing martial law, please remain calm and follow the instructions of the brave men and women in the NCPD."
Leaning against my car I stared at the radio for a long moment.
"Fuck."
Yeah, that was appropriate."Don't worry about your father and I, we will be perfectly safe," mom assured me over the phone as I began loading equipment into my car.
"And that's why I'm suggesting you stay at my place for now," I shot back in irritation. "I've been reinforcing the building and my workshop can double as a bunker in an emergency."
My mom chuckled over the line, amusement clear despite the situation. "Seriously Claire, we will be fine," she assured again. "Focus on yourself, Fixers are going to be hounding you for work constantly soon enough. We'll be fine."
I grunted in irritation, another call from a Fixer being forwarded to voicemail as texts began to flood my agent already. "Fine, promise me you will get somewhere reinforced if things start going wrong, okay?"
"We will dear," Mom assured. "Our factory is already working on installing a few dozen new panic rooms just in case, not to mention how durable the factory itself is."
A sigh escaped my lips as I shook my head. "Alright, I gotta start answering these texts and calls, love you mom," I said before reluctantly hanging up.
As if she had been waiting for me to finish my call, Wakako was ringing me up. "Kat here," I announced as I answered the call, scanning through the assorted texts from the Fixers, most of them being bodyguard gigs or middleman offers of retainer.
"Claire, there will be a meeting in the Afterlife between Fixers and notable crews and solos," she informed bluntly, cutting to the chase. "I am inviting you to participate in this meeting, it will be held within an hour, do not be late."
And she already hung up, I rolled my eyes as I loaded my Nekomata into the car and slid into the driver's seat. Welp, Afterlife here I come, I guess.
--
The streets were far from empty as I drove through the city, making my way to the Afterlife bar. Either people continuing their daily business as they tried to ignore reality, or the smarter ones prepping for the worst ahead of time. Of course with the NoCal Military Base on the northside of Night City, plus Night City being a hub of Corporations in North America, we were of course going to be a major target for Meyers and the NUSA.
Unfortunately, the details I remembered from wiki trawling were scarce, only that the siege on Night City was lifted when Arasaka came to the aid of the city at the request of the mayor-to-be Lucius Rhyne. Once again giving them a foothold inside of Night City and undoing all that Silverhand and Blackhand did to remove them from the city.
Thing was, the NUSA was no better than Night City as a whole when you came down to it, the NUSA was simply a branch of Militech, after all, each 'elected' president was a former high ranking member of Militech's board. It was a sham of a government acting as a proxy for a Megacorp banking on the idealised memory of the old world to sell people on supporting them.
I had done my research when I ended up here, cities under the NUSA flag were no better off than Night City in every metric. The ones they propped up as their 'golden standard' were the Corpo bigwig playgrounds, where they gouged the paycheck of their workers to pay for the extra security, easily replacing those who pass away because who doesn't want to live in a place where you don't have to constantly be worried about getting shanked.
Of course they don't record the numbers for those killed by the corpo rats in their 'playtime'.
Yeah, I was pretty damned disillusioned when it came to this world, it was why I was going to carve out my own little piece here in Night City, and likely why several NUSA targets of opportunity were going to find themselves being introduced to tungsten spikes delivered faster than sound.
Letting out a breath I relaxed the death grip my hands had on the wheel, wincing at the indentation my Kaijin left on the wheel before turning into the parking lot for Afterlife and sliding into the last available parking lot. Letting out another sigh I patted my thighs where on the left side I had my Unity holstered, meanwhile on the right I had my newest purchase, a Techtronika Metel. My answer to chromed out dickheads who decided to get too close for comfort.
Stepping out I scanned the crowd with my Stalkers, a lot of Posers were hanging around, obviously wanting to get into the Afterlife themselves as they waved their cheap ass guns and chrome. Ensuring that my Quadra was secure I began to stride towards the entrance, letting my face enter into a 'Resting Bitch Face'.
The lead bouncer standing at the entrance of the stairwell eyes glowed for a moment, obviously scanning me as I approached, holding up a hand. "A private function is occuring, who is your invite?" He questioned gruffly, not challenging or rudely, just straight to the point, I liked that.
"Fixer, Wakako," I informed bluntly, meeting his gaze.
There was a pause for a moment before he nodded. "Welcome to the Afterlife," he greeted as he stepped to the side to let me pass.
Unfortunately though, someone seemed to take issue with that as when I moved to step past him a voice shouted out as the hairs on the back of my head prickled. "The fuck is this bullshit, your letting that fucking Danger Gal wannabe through and not me!?" My eyes glowed as I accessed the camera above me for a quick second, a way to see behind me without turning around.
The speaker was your stereotypical Edgerunner wannabe, chromed out on cheap ass second hand chrome with a carnage shotgun already in hand.
It took less than a second to take in the brief image before, at the tail end of that second I was moving. I learned well from my encounter with the Borged out sandy user and spent many months training up my reaction time, before the Edgerunner wanna-be even racked the first shell I was next to him, my new Metel under his chin as my currently cat-like eyes met his gaze.
Silence.
Everyone was silent as they waited with baited breath to see what happened next, even the few Edgerunners who were allowed in waited near the entrance to see what happened next.
Sweat pooled on the forehead of the chrome junky as his body shook slightly, fear reflecting in his cybernetic eyes as they met my own. "Bang!"
He jerked and fell over at my shout, the obvious smell of urine filling the air as his crotch darkened. "Waste of my fucking time," I grunted out as I turned on my heel and stalked to the entrance of the Afterlife, getting a nod of thanks and respect from the lead bouncer as I passed by.
Fuck it felt good to be scary.
Still, entering into the Afterlife, I kept reminding myself I was not a big fish in the ocean yet, and there were plenty of sharks around me willing to pounce if I showed blood. The bar certainly was similar to how it was represented in game and anime with the 'Queen' seated in her usual booth with the other top Fixers.
Wakako and Padre were easy enough to recognize, even with their somewhat younger features. A shrouded hologram of a man with cybernetic hands was next to them, either Mr Hands himself or his predecessor. Next to him was an obvious Nomad, his sleeveless jacket showing the name of one of the clans I didn't recognize.
Of course seeded throughout were a few other big Fixers, Dexter DeShawn was obviously trying to play himself uo as a bigshot in one of the booths, but the fact that he sat alone and far away from Rogue's seat of power was a sign of just how little he was in the Fixer world.
I recognized a few smaller Fixers and a few of the 'up and coming' Edgerunners dotted throughout the club as I slid into a seat at the bar. I was only moderately surprised to see representatives of the various gangs, save Scavs and Maelstrom, in the club along with the recognizable Michiko Sanderson, née Arasaka, with a pair of her cat girl commandos, armed to the teeth and cheerfully smiling.
I was partially surprised to see her looking at me speculatively as I looked back at her, our impromptu staring contest only broken up as the bartender, not Claire from the game, but an older looking man came up to take my order. Ordering a beer I sat back and started scanning the crowd as I waited for the meeting to actually start.
The club went silent as Rogue stood up from her 'throne' to address the crowd. "You all know about Meyers' plan to 'unify' the free states by now, and I am sure many of you have your own opinions on that," she announced to the crowd bluntly. "I don't care two whits about that, but here is what's going to happen. Until this whole thing is done, wherever or however the dice fall, we are all under Truce.
"I don't care what beef you have with each other, nor do I care what you think you can gain from this mess, you start causing trouble, everyone else will come down on you with steel boots and my blessing."
She scanned the crowd, looking for possible dissenters to her announcement before nodding. "It's to be expected that the NUSA will be targeting Night City eventually. But we have time before they can reach our borders, plenty of free states between us and them, not to mention the Nomads and the assorted Free Cities. When they do reach our borders, expect to hear from us about bounties and sabotage work."
With that she sat back down, letting conversation to flow through the room as plans began to be made. My eyes flicked to the side as one of the Danger Gals escorting Michiko approached me. "Excuse me, but Miss Michiko would love to speak with you!" She chirped happily with a broad smile, the cheery, almost obnoxiously cute voice and smile doing nothing to hide the demand behind the words.
Letting out a sigh I rolled my eyes before draining the last of my beer and stood up to follow her to the booth Michiko took over. The half asian woman gave me a probing look as I approached, keeping my face calm and my gait smooth. "You are definitely not one of the posers most say you are," she stated as I entered into the booth, gesturing for me to take a seat, her voice was the same style of peppy and cheerful that her bodyguards were using. "Inspiration or coincidence?"
"Little bit of both," I answered honestly, one of the catgirls vanishing for a moment before returning, carrying liquor of some kind for Michiko and another bottle of the beer I was drinking before for me, a quick scan telling me it was clean. "Dog ears never looked right and fox ears often get confused for cat ears anyways."
A flicker of a smile crossed Michiko's lips at my quip as she nodded. "There truly are uncultured rubes here," she murmured, making my own lips twitch in amusement. "Wakako spoke highly of your skills, a rare thing indeed for the old woman."
"Looking to poach me for your organisation?" I questioned, leaning back in my seat with a raised eyebrow.
She snorted softly as she set her glass down. "Hardly, you strike me as someone who prides themselves in being independent, for good or ill," shs stated bluntly, well, she wasn't wrong about that. "We do operate in similar circles though, and I think working an agreement out would be in the best interest for us both."
I tilted my head for a moment, narrowing my eyes in thought. "What kind of agreement are you looking for?" I questioned. "I'm not about to become some kind of subsidiary for you."
Michiko waved her hand in denial. "Hardly, I am not my grandfather thank you," she countered with a smirk. "I'm thinking more along the lines of referrals for one another, reduced rates to hire from the other and agreements to not take conflicting jobs when possible."
I blinked in surprise, pursing my lips under my mask as I thought her offer over, it was surprisingly slanted towards me. After all, Danger Gal was well known for the skill and strength of their operatives and their success rate. "What's the catch?" I returned. "You won't be gaining much from an agreement like this."
"Not off the cuff no," Michiko nodded in agreement. "But I am not looking for a short term gain, this is a long term investment. People like you don't just burn up and vanish like most of the so called 'Legends'. You do your damndest to stick around, carving your own slice of the pie as you do so."
I hummed in response, pulling my mask away to sip the beer for a moment. "So you're taking a bet on me then," I concluded, drawing a nod from the woman.
"Pretty much," she winked with a mischievous grin. "Plus, I can respect my fellow women of culture."
I nearly spat out my beer as I coughed in surprise at the fact that the Granddaughter of Saburo Arasaka just fucking meme'd me. Well that and the fact that the meme survived for this long.
I sent a glare her way as she and her cat girls giggled in amusement at my reaction. Oh I'll get my revenge for that, Michiko, you can count on that.