Chapter 28: Legends, Loot, and Heads on the House

POV: Faraday – 21:45

V left with two mercs—Panam and Jackie. "Neither chromed," Faraday muttered. "Minimal support. Probably brought for experience or optics."

He leaned over the digital map, watching ping data scroll. "Good. With any luck, V won't be back in time—unless the Tiger Claws take him down, which… unlikely."

But then he frowned. "Too many mercs left behind. Kiwi—wounded, sure, but not harmless. Emilia, ex-Arasaka counter-intel, tough but mostly rebuilt for posture not war. And Rebecca… I've scanned that girl more times than I can count. Chrome's decent, ICE is laughable."

He paced. "Still, the point was to pull V away. Give us time to grab the golden chrome, torch the rest, and ruin Fukui. Maybe skim some parts for myself, make a tidy bonus. But now?"

He sighed. "This isn't clean anymore."

Faraday tapped his comm. "Hasagawa-sama."

"Yes?"

"We've got a situation."

After laying out the risks, Hasagawa didn't even hesitate. "Too hot. You sure you can neutralize the targets in one strike?"

Faraday nodded. "I brought three netrunners. They'll triangulate, break Kiwi's access. Then all three dive on her. Doesn't matter if she lives. Once she's out, the others are soft targets. The netrunners will take down the rest of the group from inside—hacking them one by one—then breaching the loft systems and grabbing the chrome should be easy. Solos mop up what's left."

"If the hack fails?"

"We fall back."

"Good. I'm sending a full-dive Arasaka netrunner. One of mine. He'll be there in ten. Don't screw this up."

POV: V – Inbound, 21:50

V leaned against the back seat of the Warlock. Jackie and Panam flanked him—Jackie chatting, Panam driving.

"No, Panam, you don't get it," Jackie said. "Archie's the best motorbike. Hands down."

"Fast, sure," Panam scoffed. "Reliable? Hell no. One pothole and you're part of the road."

Jackie huffed. "You know Night City. Bikes are more dangerous than bullets."

"Exactly why we armor our cars in the Badlands," she muttered. "A bike out there? You're target practice."

V smiled. "She's not wrong."

Jackie leaned back. "Wraiths ain't like Scavs. Scavs want weak prey. Wraiths will attack an armed camp for fun. That's why when you told me about Nash… I snapped."

V raised a brow.

"I've got access to most of the corpo databases," V said. (He didn't mention his modded optics automatically pulled data from all major corp databases and compiled them—best not to ask how.) "Scanned Nash. Red flag city. Then I saw this chrome-less Latina girl—thought she was vulnerable."

Panam blinked, a faint smirk forming. "Latina? Nah. I'm Native and African."

V's face fell slightly, feigning disappointment. "Damn. I really thought you were Latina."

Panam glanced sideways. "You've got a thing for Latinas, huh?"

V shrugged. "They're fun. Fiery. Bit tsundere. Always keep you guessing."

Panam rolled her eyes, though the blush said otherwise. "I am nothing like that."

V grinned. "Didn't say you were."

Panam arched a brow. "Plenty you don't know, choom."

V chuckled. "Guess I've got homework."

Jackie leaned back, still grinning. "Still. Archie sounds amazing with a single exhaust."

Panam shook her head. "Yeah—and every sniper within two miles hears it too."

V nodded in agreement.

She smirked. "C'mon, at least two mufflers. Maybe four if you wanna live."

"When we're back, I'll mod it," V said. "Stealth tuning, Badlands style."

Panam smiled. "After what you did to the Warlock? That'd be a piece of cake for you."

"ETA: 5 minutes," the Warlock's AI chimed.

Jackie kept glancing at the dash. "You sure this AI thing's safe? Still haven't recovered from that crazy KITT joyride—thing nearly turned psycho. Started ramming Maelstrom vans, doing 140 through back alleys, and scanning random pedestrians like it was building a kill list."

Warlock's voice came through, smooth and chipper. "That was a code cascade bug—primitive stuff. I'm built better. Unless you want me to go rogue… you know, for the giggles."

Jackie stiffened. "Wait—was that a joke?"

Warlock replied, "Yes.Probably."

V smirked. "That's about as reassuring as it gets, choom."

"Alright," V nodded. "Stealth mode—go."

The Warlock vanished, lights fading, body panels shifting, HUD dimming to infrared overlays.

"Position setup," V said. "Panam, sniper perch. Jackie, assault lead. I'm mobile backup."

He unhooked a spiked chain from the trunk, laying it in the roadside gutter. Not raised yet—waiting for signal.

POV: Faraday – 22:00

"Are you in position?" Faraday asked.

"Yeah," V's voice replied. "Though this convoy's cutting it close."

"Minor delay," Faraday said, faking a smile V couldn't see. "Nothing major."

"Corpo shipment late by Biotechnica? You've got a better chance winning the kill lottery," V replied, voice dry. "You hiding something from me, Faraday?"

Faraday cleared his throat. "No! There was… a last-minute reroute with the nomad cargo team. Some corporate interference. It's handled."

V didn't miss a beat. "Handled, huh? We'll see."

Call ended.

Faraday sat in silence for a moment, then tapped a second line. "Hasagawa-sama."

"Yes?"

"Sir, if we don't move now, V will bail. He's suspicious."

Hasagawa sighed. "Fine. Send the truck by 11:10 latest. And Faraday?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You can't even stall a merc. Your rep's trash."

"The job comes first, sir."

"Don't get smart."

Faraday grimaced. "Yes, sir."

POV: Loft Defense – 22:02

A soft ping echoed through the loft.

"External scan detected," Spiketooth intoned, already deploying spoof protocols.

Kiwi's tone sharpened. "Sasha, with me. Get to the deep dive rig. Now."

"I'm staying quiet," Rebecca said, low and steady, already in position.

Emilia cracked her knuckles. "Opening the window. I'm jumping out as soon as it unlocks."

"Override ready at your signal," Spiketooth replied.

A harsher tone rang out. "Red alert. Netrunner intrusion confirmed. Engaging sandbox protocol."

"They're open," Sasha said, sliding into the rig. "Deploying malware now."

Emilia vanished through the window above, disappearing into the night.

Two of the incoming signals blinked red—offline.

"Got two," Sasha confirmed. "Third one's slippery. Managed to break out."

She paused. "Oh—no. There's a fourth. Strong signal, trying to breach loft defenses directly—he's targeting the control node."

Before the words settled, the alert tone shifted—sharp and final.

"Threat neutralized," Spiketooth intoned.

Sasha grinned. "Damn. Flatbot reacted fast. Thanks, Spiketooth."

🔄 POV: Mila, ex-Scav Netrunner

"Shit, shit—TRAP!" Mila screamed. As she tried to jack out—

⚡ Another netrunner hit her from the flank. Comms: dead. System: fried.

Two mercs stood by the elevator—Slav, wiry and tense, and Malek, built like a riot shield.

Slav tilted his head. "Why's the door opening?"

Malek grunted. "Dunno. Haven't heard a peep from the netrunners."

🚪 Door opens.

⚠️ Turrets active.

Slav hissed, "Stealth!"

Too slow. ⚡ Zap—down.

Malek activated Sandevistan, ran for his life. Sent message:

📡 > Faraday: FAILED—

📡 > Info... is wri—

Emilia had jumped from the loft's upper window, dropping with deadly precision. Her mantis blades flashed.

"Mediocre," she muttered, slicing him down.

🕳️ OUT.

POV: Faraday – 22:45

"Malek's gone. No reply. Netrunners—fried."

He called Karasawa.

Karasawa: "My netrunner blacked out. Loft's defense is insane. Truck AI defaulted—it's heading back to base."

Faraday slammed the desk. "V's gonna find out."

"Is there any way it can be traced back to you?" Karasawa asked.

"They were clean, but if anything leaks from the outside... I'm screwed."

"Call V. Tell him it was a bait drop. Minimize losses."

"Yes, sir."

POV: V – 22:48

Kiwi: "All clear. We've got four netrunners total—three from Faraday, one Arasaka full-dive. One captured, two unconscious. The Arasaka runner slipped the net—van's gone. Also, both solo operatives are out cold."

V nodded. Ping—

Faraday: "It was a bait drop. Pull back."

V smirked. "Playing innocent now?"

The convoy approached. Scans showed mixed scavs, Tiger Claws, even Wraiths.

"Alliance? No way."

The truck rolled over the embedded spikes.

⚙️ SNAP—Vehicle flipped.

Backup bikes froze as V emerged.

Jackie grinned, weapon in hand. "It's raining chrome, baby!"

💥 Gunfire erupted.

Panam sniped targets mid-Sandi. Silent. Deadly.

Jackie: walking storm. Bodies fell.

One Tiger Claw tried to run—then got slammed to the ground by an unseen force.

V pinged Jackie. "Leave purple jacket alive."

Jackie nodded. Smashed the Wraith leader.

The last man—trembling. V hacked him.

📄> Hiromi Sato: source of attack.

"Panam."

💥 HEADSHOT.

Jackie exhaled. "That was a massacre, not a test."

"Agreed," V said. "Let's go home."

Ping—Rogue.

V checked his HUD. A message glowed from Rogue:

'Courtesy of the 300k you dropped in my lap, I've got a job that'll earn you a hell of a lot more. Faraday broke Afterlife code—used mercs not for a gig, but to trap one of our own. Me, the queen of Afterlife, am putting his head up for 1 million. First to send me a verified photo of that rat's head gets the eddies. You've got ten minutes before I share this with the other fixers. —R'

Rogue's message ended with a wink emoji.

V blinked, then smirked. That sneaky witch… now I get why she charged so much. Using my cash to fund the bounty pool. Clever.

He tapped his reply: "Consider it done."

"Just gangers. Nothing special."

V replied: "Also had a loft intrusion. Know anything?"

Faraday's fingers twitched. He glanced at the frozen holo-map on his desk. Rogue might already know. Maybe that damn informant had tipped her. Maybe V was fishing—or worse, confirming suspicions.

His reply came too fast, too smooth. "No! Maybe we can arrange a trace…"

Faraday cleared his throat. "No! Maybe we can arrange a trace—something clean, official."

V didn't miss a beat. "Don't bother. I've got it handled."

Connection ended.

"Jackie, Panam—change of plans. We're taking Faraday's head."

"You serious?" Jackie said, eyes lighting up.

V nodded. "Rogue posted a one-mil bounty. Ten minutes before it hits the net."

"Warlock," V said. "Route to last pinged Militech building. And ping Delamain—we'll need aerial."

The Warlock decloaked. "Efficient," it said dryly.

V nodded. "Boring, even. Hope someone made 'em bleed more than we did."

A ping hit V's HUD. Another message from Rogue.

"Tick tock, V. Nine minutes. If I don't get that head soon, the wolves get loosed."

He cracked his knuckles.

"Jackie, Panam—Faraday's last location pinged in a Militech office downtown. We're going hunting."

Panam raised a brow. "This gonna be loud?"

"Only if I miss."

V turned to Panam. "Meet me at Afterlife. I'll go in fast—don't want to spook the place."

They piled back into the Warlock. V tapped his wrist comm. "Delamain. Deploy aerial AV. Full stealth, rooftop access."

Moments later, the Warlock slid to a stop. Delamain's AV dropped low, hatch open.

"Mr. V," the AI said, "please note rooftop jumps are not sanctioned by—"

"Override protocol: giggle clause," V interrupted with a smirk.

"…Confirmed."

Jackie watched him ascend. "He's joking, right?"

Panam just smiled.

V launched from the Warlock and landed in the AV. The stealth field shimmered as they raced across Night City. Time: 23:05.

"Target building marked," Delamain reported. "Fiftieth floor. No landing clearance."

"Good," V said. "Don't land."

He leapt.

The air tore past him. Gravity caught, then let go. His boots slammed onto the roof with a resonant thud. No alarms. No alert.

Inside, Faraday sat nervously at his desk. One of his sources had defected—or worse, flipped. He could already feel Rogue's judgment breathing down his neck.

He turned to call for security—

CRASH. The window shattered.

Six armed dolls spun toward the sound, but dropped instantly—fried by a pulse spike. Their neural chips cooked.

V stepped through the smoke. Cool. Collected. Chrome glowing.

Faraday reached for his gun.

Too late.

V's monowire lashed out, wrapping Faraday's throat and yanking him to the floor. With a smooth flick, the fixer's head hit the carpet.

V sat in Faraday's still-warm chair and pulled up his files.

Bank account: 4,000,000 eddies.

"Disappointing," V muttered, transferring the funds.

He slung Faraday's severed head into a secure container, wiped the monowire clean, and vanished back into the shadows. No messages. No pings. Just silence.

Let Rogue find out the old-fashioned way—by looking her prize in the face.

V boarded the returning Delamain AV and went full stealth toward the Afterlife. As the minutes ticked down, he checked the time—23:10, exactly ten minutes since Rogue's original message.

The AV uncloaked just outside the club, skimming low. V didn't hesitate. He bolted down the ramp, launched from the AV mid-motion, and flipped once in the air before landing in a low crouch on the curb—like a chrome-coated predator stalking home.

Inside, Rogue hit send on her public bounty blast—only to freeze as a shadow flickered beside her.

V materialized out of stealth beside the bar, container in hand.

The bar buzzed with excitement. Mercs whispered: "A hit on a fixer?" "No one's done that in years."

Rogue turned, eyes narrowing—then widened as she saw the container open.

V dropped Faraday's head on the counter.

The room went dead quiet.

Then Rogue burst out laughing.

"Damn, V. You're lucky I like crazy."

Claire slid over a chilled bio-orange juice with a grin. "Courtesy of the house."

Rogue handed over the shard herself. "And the bounty? Coming straight from me."

1,000,000 eddies – Received.

Rogue's eyes flashed with a grin. "Told Claire to book you and your crew a VIP room. Drinks, food—on the house."

Jackie and Panam stepped into the bar just as the crowd was buzzing. Jackie looked around, wide-eyed. "Damn… first time in Afterlife and I walk in like I own the place?"

Panam smirked, leaning casually. "Could get used to this."

V gave them a nod and pinged the crew: VIP booth 23. Anyone who wants in, come celebrate.

Rebecca: 'Throwing out the bodies. On my way :*'

Kiwi: 'omw.'

Emilia: 'Can I bring Judy?'

V: 'Sure.'

Lucy: 'Coming. David's not here—he's out practicing his Sandevistan on scav squads.'

V: 'High-tech scavs, huh? How's his training?'

Lucy: 'He doesn't train much. Just thinks replacing 90% of his body with chrome will solve everything.'

V: 'We'll talk when you get here.'

Sasha: 'Weeee I'm coming, kitty style!'

Falco: 'Still don't know why I'm invited. Between your Delamain fleet and Warlock, my job's obsolete.'

V: 'Don't worry, Falco. Your time to shine's coming. Sasha's our new secretary, and once she's chromed up, we'll be running gigs nonstop.'

Falco: 'Sasha? That name brings back… sad memories. Wait—that Sasha's alive?!'

V: 'Yep. Come to Afterlife and see for yourself.'

Falco: 'They were best friends. Sasha helped Rebecca a lot back in the day. Probably got caught up talking and forgot to tell me she was alive.'

Falco: 'Alright, I'm coming. Just don't make me park next to Warlock—it makes my ride look like a toy.'

V grinned at the flood of responses. The squad was coming. After a night of ambushes and bounty runs, it was time to breathe, laugh, and regroup—together.