Mayoral Visit

The Mackinaw pulled over to the side of the road. Unlike the legendary "custom" version, this one was just a standard upgraded Mackinaw.

Nothing flashy—just a tougher frame and softer seats.

Leo climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut with a thud.

"Get in. You don't want any passersby seeing you like this, do you?"

The passenger door opened, and in stepped none other than the Burger King team's NetWatch liaison—Bryce.

The vehicle's digital rearview mirror had already picked him up through Little Octopus's "Sentinel" mode. He'd been waiting a while.

The man looked even more exhausted than usual. Clearly, the recent chaos in Night City had loaded NetWatch with extra work—especially the massive blackout yesterday.

Santo Domingo might be a poor district, but it still had some running industrial zones. A citywide EMP like that? The economic loss was incalculable.

The smaller factories and businesses may not seem like much alone—but together, they formed the foundation of profit for the bigger companies above them.

And those bigger companies? Just so happened to include the Night Corp—Night City's biggest corporate dog.

Bryce pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back in the seat, eyes closed, like he was trying to relax.

Leo glanced over—and noticed his arms were covered in needle marks.

For reference, high-end pneumatic injectors used pressurized delivery systems—forcing liquid through the skin and into capillaries without leaving a mark.

For a NetWatch agent like Bryce—especially one who'd already bled resources to hire Leo—cheap equipment wasn't even an option.

And yet, despite that, his arms were riddled with punctures.

That could only mean one thing: he'd been jabbing himself with something a lot lately.

Leo muttered, "You know... you're working harder than half the mercs I know."

But Bryce ignored the jab and complimented the ride instead.

"These seats aren't bad. Wide and comfy."

"Top-tier business seating for the Mackinaw. Not something most people can even buy."

No one in their right mind would install these luxury seats in a pickup truck meant to be beaten and battered.

"Explains it—it's a ride for celebs," Bryce sighed and pulled out a tin of custom gum, chewing as he cut to the chase.

"I wanna know: how many of those mercs are still alive?"

"Three."

"Damn, you guys really don't hold back," Bryce chuckled. "The insurance companies must be throwing a party."

"They had insurance?" Leo raised a brow. Who sells insurance to mercs?

Insurance underwriting is a pain. The whole business depends on calculating risk to make sure the cost of coverage stays under the expected payout.

But mercenaries? They're all risk. No insurance company in their right mind would go near that.

"Yeah, well... Europe's different," Bryce shrugged. "Lots of competition. Lots of loopholes. People scam insurance all the time over there.

But once I match their profiles up, their policies won't mean jack.

Eventually, you'll run into another kind of insurance—one they sell to top-tier solo mercs. Basically just betting on how long they'll live."

Leo nodded. "Credit default swaps?"

Bryce raised a brow. "Huh. You know your stuff. But I'm not here to talk shop. I want to pull some data from their heads."

He paused, then laid it out clearly: "You're wondering why, right? Fine—I'll tell you. This is a request from both Night City municipal government and Night Corp.

NetWatch has recognized enforcement rights across North America. And with that comes responsibility. Night Corp wants us to fulfill ours."

He rubbed his temples and cursed.

"Worst kind of job, honestly. Night Corp didn't give us any system logs—called it 'classified company data.'

But they're still demanding we track down the culprits. Fast.

If we don't? They'll sue the city government. That payout's coming out of our pockets."

Wait. Lawsuits?

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Hold up. I thought NetWatch's jurisdiction here was more like... tolerated. What law are you even working under?"

"See, that's the thing," Bryce said, "A lot of people still misunderstand us. That 'tolerated' stuff? That was years ago.

We operate legally now—especially in Night City.

Mayor Lucius Rhyne gave us a lot of power. But with that comes accountability. If a corporation loses money due to a cybercrime and we don't act—we're liable."

After the Old Net collapsed, NetWatch's corporate identity got diluted. Most people forgot they were originally just a cybersecurity firm.

Nowadays, most Night Citizens think of NetWatch as NCPD's tech support, and nothing more.

But the truth is... they're still a private enterprise. And like any company, the "law" only matters when it's useful. Most of the regulations are so ridiculous they might as well be bathroom graffiti.

Still, understanding the law helps explain corporate decisions.

From the way Bryce talked, Leo could tell: NetWatch really did answer to Rhyne on some level.

And that meant—contrary to what the streets believed—Night City's government wasn't completely powerless under corporate rule.

NetWatch's authority came from Rhyne himself. So even though it looked like they were working for Night Corp, in truth—they were helping Rhyne secure his power.

Leo thought for a moment. "So this is really Rhyne's job, and you're just the delivery boy. Does he know you came to me?"

Bryce didn't answer. He just stared out the windshield.

A stretched Alvarado, from Villefort, rolled through the intersection.

"See that car?" Bryce said. "Looks boring, right? But it's armored with Arasaka's top-shelf monomolecular plating. Tires are battlefield-grade from Militech. The chassis?

Let's just say it's way more badass than your Mackinaw.

Costs several times more to build and maintain. And good luck buying one—even if you had the money.

There's only one like it in the entire city."

Leo didn't argue. He had a pretty good idea who was inside.

Mayor Lucius Rhyne.

The "Hero Mayor" who led Night City through the Unification War... and the "corporate lackey" who welcomed Arasaka back with open arms.

That car might look boring, but it probably cost more than Leo's tricked-out Mackinaw—and had way better protection.

Bryce watched the vehicle disappear into the distance and finally exhaled. Someone else in his team would be handling the rest of that operation.

"Every time a big name steps outside, the whole department goes on edge... but hey—congrats.

You've officially caught the attention of a major player."

Leo started the engine, not bothering to respond to that.

"I'll give you what you asked for. But... what's the payment?"

"Relax." Bryce tapped his hand on the doorframe. "You hit the jackpot. This time, the reward's more than worth it."

Leo didn't believe a word of it.

It'd be the same old corporate crap: every 'reward' just another excuse to wring more work out of him. And the payoff? Never what it seemed.