Cyberpunk: The Relentless

"Oliver, Jack, Karl, V—you guys were insane!" Inside the AV, David was flushed with excitement, still riding the high from watching Karl and

"Oliver, Jack, Karl, V—you guys were insane!"

Inside the AV, David was flushed with excitement, still riding the high from watching Karl and the others take on Adam Smasher. He practically vibrated with regret for not bringing a braindance recorder.

"You almost killed Adam Smasher! That's unbelievable! Maine once told me—just dying at that guy's hands makes you a legend!"

"Yeah, almost killed him," Oliver replied, trying to sound casual. But the pride in his voice gave him away.

"He still had fight in him. If we'd kept pushing, we might not have made it out. Sometimes you gotta know when to pull back."

"But you blew out his eye! You cracked his skull open! If it hadn't been for that second-layer brain shield—I mean, who the hell has that? He would've been toast!"

David was buzzing.

"Man, I really should've had my BD gear. That fight? Would've been the hottest braindance of the year. Not that I'd sell it—you guys are family—but watching it back? Pure gold. Collectible-grade stuff. Just thinking about it gives me chills!"

"You really do love your BDs," Oliver said, shooting a glance at Karl, who was perched at the open side door of the AV, staring down at the afternoon skyline of Night City.

"Just like Karl."

"Like you don't," Karl muttered, eyes still locked on the city.

"You're always holed up in your room watching those."

"Wait, what?" Oliver blinked. "How do you know I watch them in my room?"

He wasn't surprised Karl knew he liked braindances—hell, he'd gone to Lizzie's right in front of everyone. But how did Karl know where he watched them?

"Be more careful where you buy your BDs," came T-BUG's voice over comms.

David had forgotten she was even on the line.

"Stop buying malware-laced crap. And don't connect your BD gear to your apartment grid. Your place gets breached every other day. You think I wouldn't check it out?"

"Uhh…"

Oliver froze. David was right there. His face turned beet red.

"You saw everything?"

"Heh."

T-BUG didn't need to say more.

"You're enjoying this."

"I'll… make sure to be more careful next time," Oliver grumbled, then looked at David, desperate to change the subject.

"How's Maine doing?"

"The crew's with him now. He's fine. Might need a new arm though."

David was finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush.

"Glad to hear it," Jack said from one of the passenger seats. "When he's up and moving, we're taking him to Wild Dog Bar. Or Afterlife. My treat."

"I'll pass it on," David said with a grin. Then the smile faded, and his tone hardened.

"After we deal with Faraday."

"That bastard," Oliver muttered.

The embarrassment from earlier was gone. Replaced with disgust.

Among them, Oliver had always hated Faraday the most. Of all the fixers in Night City, he was the greediest bastard they knew. But even Oliver hadn't expected this.

Most fixers went out of their way to maintain good relations with mercs. They were their bread and butter. Guys like Old Captain treated you like family. Even someone like Wakako, cold as ice, still played fair.

But Faraday?

This dumbass couldn't even tell when a betrayal wasn't worth the payday. No wonder he kept bouncing between districts, scrambling for work. Even in his old territory—Santo Domingo—he was getting squeezed out by rising players like Old Captain.

"What a joke," Oliver spat.

Maine's crew wasn't gonna let it go. No way.

In Night City, if a fixer betrayed a team, payback was expected. And there weren't many crews who could match Maine's in firepower. Those who could were usually locked into contracts with other fixers.

Unless Faraday ran, or paid top eddies for protection from the Animals, he was dead meat.

But how Maine handled that? Not Karl's business.

It was a fixer problem, not theirs. Karl's crew was just here for delivery and backup. Getting involved beyond that would blur the line between business and revenge.

And for the record, Faraday had never betrayed them.

The escort gig he offered had been laid out clearly. They knew the risks. They took the job. Mutual agreement.

Oliver's real beef? Faraday took half the payout for doing jack shit.

Was it worth killing over? Not really.

But would they mind watching Maine put him in the ground?

Not at all.

Helping out? Nah.

But pointing Maine in the right direction?

Fair game.

"I got Old Captain's number," Oliver said. "Pass it to Maine when you get the chance."

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