Chapter 258

Panam's sudden voice over the comms channel interrupted Leo's train of thought.

"Nash, that bastard… I trusted him. After I left the Aldecaldos and came to Night City, he was my first partner. I gave him good faith, and he paid me back in the worst way possible."

Leo was quiet for a while before speaking. "So that's why you told him everything about the deal with the 6th Street Gang without holding anything back?"

Rogue had mentioned this once to Leo. She'd hinted to Panam not to share too much with Nash. But clearly, Panam had seen Nash as a genuine friend and had laid everything out—how she ran the job for 6th Street, the route, the setup. That's what gave Nash the idea to steal the goods and take the vehicle for himself.

Some might ask, wasn't Nash afraid that Panam would come back for revenge? Of course not. People in the city couldn't tell the difference between Nomads and the Raffen Shiv. And just the fact that Panam was a Nomad meant she'd never get gigs as easily as other mercs from a fixer. And without a vehicle? She couldn't work at all. Not everyone was like Leo, rich enough to hail a Delamain to do contracts.

Nash had bet everything on Panam never bouncing back, and that's why he wasn't afraid of retribution.

Panam gripped the wheel without saying a word, but her eyes were blazing with fury.

No one said anything else after that.

Leo's Delamain cab followed behind Panam's vehicle as they drove to the end of the abandoned highway tunnel.

Leo kept his tactical optics on scan mode. About a hundred meters ahead, he detected a dense cluster of red humanoid silhouettes.

"Panam, stop the car. We've reached the enemy's base."

Panam instinctively wanted to ask, "How do you know?" but the memory of how Leo had laid out EMP mines back at Rocky Ridge flashed in her mind. Maybe he really had some special detection tech.

She brought the car to a stop.

Leo, V, and Lucy got out of the Delamain. They were now standing inside a pitch-black tunnel. It was about three stories underground, and the space was wide enough to fit four or five cars side by side. Junk and debris were piled throughout the tunnel—whether it was left from construction or dumped here intentionally by Nash's crew was unclear.

"There's fewer than thirty of them. Panam, got a plan?" Leo asked.

Panam thought hard for a long time before blurting out, "We hit them head-on. Take them by surprise."

Leo didn't respond. Four versus thirty. For anyone else, it'd be suicide. But for them—it was perfect.

He opened the Delamain's trunk, pulled out a weapons crate, and handed V and Lucy each a G-58 Dian Smart SMG. Against this kind of numerical disadvantage, smart weapons were far more effective—they auto-targeted and adjusted trajectory mid-flight. Even a wild shot would land center mass.

But SMGs alone weren't enough. "V—catch," Leo called, tossing her a massive, heavy firearm.

It was an L-69 Zhuo Smart Shotgun, manufactured by Kang Tao. Shotguns were usually bulky and imprecise, known more for brute force than finesse. But like all Kang Tao weapons, the L-69 was an exception—outfitted with top-tier electronics, it came with ultra-sensitive radar that scanned the surroundings and tracked targets autonomously. The eight rounds in its under-barrel mag were more than ready to shred enemies on contact.

Leo didn't give Lucy one, though. Despite the smart features, the L-69 was still heavy and large, and Lucy hadn't received any bodily enhancements. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

But V was enough. Leo himself carried a tech sniper rifle, rounding out their firepower.

Once everyone was geared up, the four of them advanced quietly into the tunnel.

It didn't take long to reach the Wraith's base, which had been set up in a recessed alcove deep inside. Originally, it might've been meant to be a rest stop or a gas station, but now it was nothing more than a den of thieves.

A few Wraiths stood watch on the perimeter, weapons in hand. But from their sloppy posture, it was clear they'd never seen real action. They weren't taking their job seriously, probably thinking no one would ever find them here.

Leo issued silent orders over comms, having the others spread out instead of grouping together. This would allow for crossfire support without risking everyone getting pinned down at once.

Once everyone was in position, Leo gave the command to engage.

T-t-t-t-t—

V and Lucy's G-58s lit up first, streams of smart bullets carving glowing trails through the tunnel air before piercing through the heads of unsuspecting Wraiths.

Then came the thunderous report of Panam's kinetic sniper rifle. Hers, acquired from Mitch, was the SPT32 Grad, made by Techtronika, one of the Soviet Union's key arms manufacturers. Unlike Militech, which developed across weapons, cyberware, drones, and vehicles, Techtronika focused purely on firearms—and only two models ever made it overseas: the SPT32 Grad and the RT-46 Burya revolver.

Their designs weren't flashy, but they were durable, reliable, and most importantly—powerful.

Bang!

A Wraith standing high on a ledge was blown several meters backward by a single kinetic round.

Panam racked the bolt; a brass casing clinked to the ground as she chambered the next round, locked onto another scrambling enemy, and fired—another kill.

Chaos erupted among the Wraiths.

"What the hell? Where's the shooting coming from?!" Nash's expression twisted.

He was cautious, never daring to poke his head out—only operating the room's terminal, watching from the surveillance feeds.

The outside of the tunnel was a storm of muzzle flashes. In just moments, several of his people had already dropped. Nash and the rest of the Wraiths were completely stunned.

Who the hell was attacking them? And why?

From his point of view, this hideout had been chosen perfectly. The average person wouldn't even think to drive this far down an abandoned highway, let alone reach the depths of this tunnel. They hadn't even touched any corp convoys or gone near Night City recently.

Who would bother coming after them?

One name suddenly burst into Nash's mind—Panam?

Could it really be that woman from the Aldecaldos?

He shook his head immediately. No way. She'd cut ties with the clan. Once a Nomad left the family, no one would back her up. And with the kind of firepower he was seeing from the attackers, there was no way this was just a stray Nomad vendetta.

Nash's eyes were sharp. He immediately recognized their arsenal: two smart weapons, a tech weapon, and a kinetic rifle. Anyone hiding behind cover got shredded by the tech and kinetic rounds. Anyone who tried to rush forward was cut down by the smart guns.

After some observation, he arrived at the only bit of good news: despite the overwhelming firepower, there were only four attackers. That gave him hope.

They were cloaked in the dark, but based on bullet trajectories, he counted just four positions. He didn't know why the enemy only sent four people, but it was a relief nonetheless.

Steadying his nerves, Nash forced himself to calm down.

The hideout's biggest advantage was concealment. But its greatest weakness was the lack of an escape route once discovered. If they didn't kill the attackers, there'd be no way out.

The sounds of his comrade's screams echoed from outside, but Nash remained composed. He stayed holed up in his room and picked up his weapon—the Widow Maker.

It was a tech precision rifle manufactured by Militech, ferocious in firepower. Even at extreme range, its rounds could hit with frightening accuracy. More powerful than even the Grad, it could punch through walls and armored vehicles with ease.

Despite the slaughter outside, Nash wasn't panicking or angry. He knew he had one distinct advantage—the terminal in his room was linked to all the outside surveillance feeds, letting him monitor every movement without exposing himself.

And the enemy surely didn't know that.

Watching the live footage on his screen, Nash adjusted his aim, lining up his sights on one of the attackers. Take down one, then three left. Rinse and repeat.

Just as he steadied his sights, the target on-screen abruptly reacted—as if sensing something—and swung their weapon toward his room.

Nash's heart dropped.

He was hidden behind solid walls, yet his limbs felt ice-cold, like he'd been dunked in a frozen lake.

Instinctively, he tried to pull the trigger, to shoot first.

But he was one step too slow.

The moment the thought even formed, the wall beside him exploded.

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Note: You might already know this, but just in case—"Raffen Shiv" isn't the specific name of a clan. It's a general term, like "Scavs" or "Nomads," used to describe a certain type of group, usually outcasts or rogue elements. In this case, the actual group is the Wraiths—that's what they call themselves.

However, "Raffen Shiv" will still be more widely used in conversation and general reference, even when referring to a specific group like the Wraiths.

Don't blame me—I've been influenced by Night City propaganda too… they all blur together for me!

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