NOVEL WEB Chapter 10: Breaking the Habit
Chapter 10 –
It's a good thing I am not driving. It gives me just that little bit more time to get my thoughts in order. Besides, Ethan's Thorton Merrimac is truly very comfortable. It would have been a shame to have had to drive in Rafael's old– well, now my new car and miss out on this.
Even if I was sitting in the back, with Rebecca by my side, the six-wheeler had enough space to provide ample room back here.
Micromanipulators are often extremely good at hiding any signs of nerves in body language– provided I pay attention to the damn things so that they're actively doing so. It's not a passive thing that I can just forget about.
I could not be bothered to focus on those right now, hadn't been able to even think about focusing the gloves in that direction since I'd woken up in my lab. Becca had definitely caught on, the talk we had was indicative enough of that. Even so, even after that talk, I can't be damned to focus the gloves into building a veneer of calm on myself.
I was not feeling calm. I didn't need to hide that fact. It's not like I am having second thoughts…. but I can't shake the question if this really is the right thing to do?
Based on Wakako's intel, we're about to kill somewhere between twenty to thirty people…. If we get that far, and this whole thing doesn't go tits up and we all don't just die that is.
But even then, disregarding the questions of our survivability…. I don't know how I feel about potentially killing that many people. It has to be done, I know that. There are no other options… Archie believed the Police and Justice System here in NC would be of no use.
And I was inclined to believe her. My own encounter with the boys in blue aside…. if that hadn't been a factor to tip the scales against the system's favor, even then it is not really difficult to discern how it would have played out if we had actually tried relying on the police to do their job.
They would have bled Archie dry for all the cash she was worth– and in return would show dick for their efforts. Everything about the police department was hyper-monetized. Like it was a goddamned YouTube channel belonging to someone who's run dry of all content and is now exploiting their audience for every cent they can suck out of them.
Especially since the new chief took office – some guy named Jerry Fawlter. Fitting name that. The final nail in the wall in the NCPD's decline into late-stage ultra-capitalistic monetization hell was his fault alright.
I had double-checked my choice thoroughly, agonized over it throughout the past day while I prepared for the inevitability.
This truly was the only reliable option.
It didn't make the feeling that I was cruising to my own funeral feel any less intense. I had rationalized killing in self-defense very easily. I could deal with it; I had lost some sleep over it and that's that.
But this feeling that I was getting right now? I felt like I was about to bury the person I had been a month ago once and for all. That whatever happened during this …. operation, that I would come out of it changed irrevocably.
It was a heavy, heady feeling.
It did not matter whether or not the people I was about to kill were scum. Even if they had been the worst of the evils of humanity, like the Nazis or child predators or whoever else, I don't think this feeling would have been any different.
Truth be told; the scavengers, based on their widely agreed upon basis of operation, were not that far behind being in that sort of list. Rapist, mass murdering organ thieves that they were.
"Alright, listen up people!" Ethan said, as he drove us across the bay and into Watson "We're five minutes out! Get your game faces on!"
I never really took my time to really see Watson and the district beyond maybe one or two stations by NCART. Seeing it now, being driven inside, I can't help but notice the absolutely massive corporate office complexes that line the bayside of the district.
Like a massive wall erected to hide away the entire district from the view of people living in more posh areas like Westbrook and City Center. It feels like it's the literal physical manifestation of the class divide festering here in Night City.
Rebecca glanced over at me, her lime-green hair catching the dim light as she leaned in. "You're not having second thoughts, are ya Bright Eyes?" she asked, her tone teasing but sharp enough to sting.
Before I could answer, she smirked and gave me a light nudge. "C'mon, choom, you're about to make some gonks regret ever being born. Don't wuss out now! Or do I need to throw you outta this truck, you could run behind as warm-up? Don't think I won't!"
To emphasize she balanced her entire body on her Gorilla arms and aimed a flurry of kicks in front of herself.
Despite everything, I couldn't stop the smile that showed on my face, she really was very perceptive.
"You don't need to worry about me, Becca" I placated her, "Just some last-minute jitters… that's all!"
Well, I would've liked it better had I not been feeling nervous.
I mean, I knew I was geared up and ready to roll. I had my guns, which were itching to unleash unholy hell on anything and everything…. and should things go belly up, I had my potions to fall back on.
Should I head into the fight with my rock skin potion active? Or should I go invisible right out of the bat? Or both….?
Becca smirked slyly and said "Don't overthink things too much… or you won't be able to perform well when we actually get down to business… that's good advice y'know~. You wouldn't wanna disappoint me now, would ya?"
Right. I was overthinking things.
"Oh, trust me," I said, creaking my shoulders, and flashing her my best grin with as much bravado I could muster "Disappointing you? Not a chance. Once I'm in something, I always make sure to finish things thoroughly, and I'm not stopping now."
She raised an eyebrow at me and if it were possible, her sly grin got wider "Now that's what I like to hear, Choom! You and me? We're going places!"
I needed to stick to the plan. Wait for the hacker; Yoko to disable all combat Cyberware from the gangsters and then lay down lead like a motherfucker.
I can do that.
I can save the potions for when shit gets too bad, I can rely on my Kevlar-infused clothing till then. I was wearing triple layers of my empowered clothing. A single layer of my Kevlar-crossed clothing was bulletproof against most small arms fire.
Well, small arms fire that wasn't infused with any of my potions. Even so, I was quite a ways away from being completely bulletproof yet. Even if my clothing was bullet resistant, as ordained cosmically by the forge. I needed to keep my head, and not take any chances whatsoever.
"I'd suggest everyone check their gear once again," Archie said from her seat beside Yoko, glancing toward the netrunner. "Yoko, you got access to the district subnet yet?"
Yoko tilted her head, her sunglasses hiding the glow of her optics. "I live around here, Archie. I was jacked in the moment we got on the bridge"
Archie raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. "And? What've you got?"
"Scav runner's already in my sights," Yoko replied with a small smirk. "I've got my daemons prepped and ready to be unleashed. Thirteen dead scavs marked, waiting for the sweet sweet release by lead. They just don't know it yet."
Archie nodded, but her eyes narrowed. "What about the Claws? They've got to have their own chairjock, right?"
"Still working on that," Yoko admitted, leaning back in her seat. "They haven't arrived at the drop site, but I'll spot 'em the second they roll in."
"From this far out?" Ethan chimed in from the driver's seat, glancing back over his shoulder.
"It pays to have eyes in the sky, doesn't it?" Yoko shot back, her tone smug.
"You're jacked remotely into their CCTVs?" Archie asked as she racked her shotgun and cycled through the activation of her new combat cyberware on both arms.
I should give my guns a once over too.
Apparently, I should never part with my weaponry, especially in places that actively forbid their entry. The bouncer at the club had attempted to charge me exorbitantly to withdraw from the goddamned locker. Called it part of their policy included in the contract I agreed to when I gave them my palm scan, a clause he didn't let me verify after the fact.
Becca had put that to rest quite easily; distracting the guard by flirting with him, while I retrieved my guns from inside. The machine never prompted a payment, the fucker had tried to scam me. Becca had picked the guy's sockets for whatever creds he was worth and he had been none the wiser.
You live and learn, I suppose.
I also need to cover up my face.
"Oh no, that would not be possible…" The slender woman said as she reclined her seat "The container yard… no cams there. They've chosen a spot where no eye can spy on their little biz this night."
"Then how'd you have your eyes on them?" Ethan asked.
"Drones are a wonderful friend. If only one remembers to open their eyes." Yoko smiled widely.
It will never not blow my mind that hackers like her need only have a piece of tech in their line of sight to hack into things. How does that even work? Are all things constantly connected to the goddamn internet?
I didn't have time to ponder that line of thinking.
The mask that I had come up with was basically a balaclava. Cliché as it is, it was the simplest design that I could come up with then. Of course, if I were to redo it now…. well, I was certain I could make it seem much more demonic and fear-inducing in appearance.
"Preem mask," At least Rebecca seemed to like it. "You're really leaning into the criminal aesthetic with this one. Kevlar's a bit much though, without plating it will be useless against most everything."
"Thanks" I nodded to her in reply "I sewed it myself. Figured something would be better than nothing. I don't want to catch more attention than we already are going to be bringing upon ourselves."
"Oh, you wouldn't need to worry about getting recognized on cams, from now on" Yoko called out, having heard me talk. "Archie had me encrypt your facial recognition data, repurposed Kiroshi tech to give you a pseudo lens disruptor. It's not a very strong encryption mind you and doesn't cover all databases. But the NCPD, or city surveillance should be blind to your face. Only a determined runner would be able to crack it."
That was not something I thought was even a possibility. I was grateful to Archie for covering for me, even in places I had overlooked.
"Wow… that's amazing," I said, blinking as I processed Yoko's explanation. "I didn't even know that was possible. Archie, thank you. Seriously. You've thought of things I didn't even realize I could have had done."
Archie looked at me using the rearview mirror and nodded. "Don't thank me yet, Zain. We'll see how much you appreciate it when someone actually tries to trace you. If Yoko's trick holds up, then you can start getting sentimental."
I chuckled nervously. "Fair enough. Still, it means a lot."
Having secured the balaclava over my head, I finally got the compact SMG out of my jacket, and confirmed it was hot after switching the safety.
Rebecca glanced over as I inspected my SMG, her lime-green eyebrows arching as a grin spread across her face. "That's an interesting piece of iron you've got there, Zain. Almost looks like a Saratoga… but not quite."
I gave her a small nod, shifting the SMG in my hands. "It's custom. Built it myself. Didn't have the scratch to afford a good piece from a store, so I had to get creative."
Her grin widened, clearly impressed. "Preem. Nothing beats something you've built with your own two hands." She reached down and hefted her own weapon from her side—a bold, green-and-pink shotgun with graffiti-style detailing. She cocked it with a satisfying ka-chunk. "You name it yet? Gotta give it a name. Mine's called Guts."
I couldn't help but enjoy her enthusiasm, though my eyes were drawn to the shotgun in her hands—a heavily modified Budget Arms Carnage.
The extended barrel and reinforced pump handle stood out immediately, along with the oversized magazine port. She'd swapped the standard choke for a short-range spreader, removed the rifling to maximize close-range damage, and reinforced the chamber to handle hotter, high-pressure shells.
And the plastic body had been reinforced with metals. Like any sane person would have done.
It was a brutal, high-impact weapon, perfectly suited for Rebecca's style.
"Yeah," Rebecca said, her tone proud. "Keep 'miring my baby! She's loud, messy, and gets the packs a mean ass punch. Just the way I like it." She winked at me. "So, how 'bout yours, choom? Got a name for it yet, or am I gonna have to come up with one for ya?"
I chuckled and shook my head. "Not yet. Still figuring it out. Maybe I'll take suggestions after tonight."
Archie's voice cut through the hum of the engine. "Zain, that piece you've got—does it pack the same tech as that revolver of yours the other day?"
I nodded, giving the SMG an appreciative glance. "It does. Even added a thermal effect that alternates after each round for some extra damage."
From the rearview mirror, I saw Archie's eyes widen slightly in genuine surprise. She leaned back a bit, letting out a low, "Holy fuck, that is going to be Nova."
Rebecca perked up, curiosity flashing across her face. "Wait, what does she mean? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"
I opened my mouth to answer, but Archie cut me off with a sharp shake of her head. "Nu-uh. Don't ruin the surprise. I wanna see the reactions to that little beast firsthand. Trust me, it's going to shred gonks into pieces. I can already tell."
Ethan chuckled lightly from the driver's seat, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. "Sounds like we're in for a show. You've had me curious now since Empathy– now I'm plain excited."
Rebecca's grin widened as she nudged me with her elbow. "Alright then, keep your secrets. You've got my attention. This better live up to the hype because I'm itching to see what you've cooked up. Sounds preem."
Rebecca nodded just as Ethan finally pulled out of Charter Street, and up a backroad toward the container yard.
Honestly, I was feeling oddly proud that my SMG was being hyped up as it was. I had worked hard on it. It also helped me to refocus my attention toward looking forward to their reactions upon seeing it in action.
I wonder if it will be christened a name by the end of the night.
"Alright, we're here. Yoko, ring us all on comms." Archie said, as she got out of the vehicle in question "And what's the sitch on the Clawz"
The woman nodded, "I have eyes on a pair of trucks making its way here, being escorted by Tyger Claws. There's …. at eleven of them on their way here. I have their runner marked, going to ping em all with daemons on your mark."
I was wearing wireless earbuds to make up for my lack of internalized auditory Cyberware. I quickly answered the call, and we had effective communication between the crew.
I don't think this method of communication is all that much different from a normal call. I certainly noticed no difference. If I have to make a guess, Yoko is routing the calls using some hacking wizardry to keep us anonymous.
"Preem, Yoko. You stay in the car, keep it warm." Archie said, as both the rest of us joined her outside the vehicle "I need to get my sights on Peter Upmann, once I have him I will give you the mark."
I took a deep breath, the cool night air biting through the fabric of my balaclava. This was it—the moment of truth.
There was no room for hesitation now. The Zain from a month ago would have balked at this, but he wasn't here anymore. The only version of me that mattered was the one who would survive this night.
The container yard loomed ahead of us, sprawling and maze-like under the dim glow of overhead floodlights. Rust-streaked shipping containers were stacked three, sometimes four high, creating long, shadowy corridors that ran like arteries through the yard.
The sections were divided into color-coded blocks—blue, red, and yellow—each denoting the ownership or type of cargo housed there. A few of the containers were marked with Tyger Claws graffiti, their crude designs stark against the industrial steel.
Yoko's voice crackled softly in my ear. "Scavs are holed up in Red Sector C. All thirteen are alert, they won't know what's going to hit them. Their runner's clueless."
Archie adjusted her grip on her shotgun, nodding. "Ethan, you're with me. We'll move in head-on. Zain, Rebecca, take the far side—Blue Sector A. Use the containers for cover and flank them."
Rebecca flashed a toothy grin, already gripping Guts like it was an extension of her arm. "Got it, boss lady. C'mon, Zain my man, let's show these gonks why you don't mess with us."
I nodded, following her lead as we slipped into the shadows. The containers provided adequate cover for us from the scavs.
"I have to admit, you're being pretty composed at the moment. I am impressed." Rebecca teased, glancing over her shoulder as we darted behind a row of containers.
That was the micromanipulators finally being put to use again.
"That's the spirit. Just keep that aim steady and follow my lead. We're gonna paint the yard red, choom."
That we would. It would be red, covered in ice while burning with the force of the hottest of the fires of hell.
We kept low, moving container by container, never losing sight of the scavs in the distance. Thirty paces away, they milled about near a makeshift campfire, oblivious to the danger creeping toward them. The hum of engines grew louder as the Tyger Claws arrived, their convoy rolling into the yard with two large trucks flanked by a mix of cars and bikes.
"They're here," Yoko's voice cut in, sharp and focused.
Rebecca and I crouched behind a container, taking our positions. I steadied my SMG, the micromanipulators in my gloves doing their job to keep my aim perfectly level. The scavs didn't seem to be bothered by the Tyger Claws spreading out, some forming a defensive perimeter around the trucks while others fanned out across the yard.
One of the Claws stepped forward, approaching a figure at the scav camp. Even from this distance, I recognized the scav leader—Peter Upmann. His stocky frame and distinctive jacket made him unmistakable.
"I have Upmann in sight," I spoke into the comms. The man had begun talking to the Tyger Claw in charge. Their conversation was not clear to me.
Archie's reply came almost immediately. "I see him in my sights too. Yoko, unleash hell."
A heartbeat later, chaos erupted. Sparks exploded from the scav camp as Yoko's daemons went to work, frying their combat cyberware in bursts of static and electricity. Shouts of confusion rose from the scavs, while some of the Tyger Claws twitched and staggered as the disruption hit their systems too.
"Shit," Yoko cursed over the comms. "Their runner's using ICE— she's broken my chain. Gimme a second to cut through."
Archie's responded sharply after a moment. "Right, Open Fire."
Without hesitation, Rebecca and I opened fire.
My SMG roared to life, the first burst of tag rounds lighting up the targets. Tag marks embedded deep on scav after scav, each one scrambling in vain to hide. I switched magazines in a practiced motion, loading in the live rounds.
Rebecca's cry shattered the tense silence as she leapt from cover, her shotgun roaring to life. "Come get some, you scop-sucking gonks!" The first blast from Guts sent a scav sprawling, his chest cavity obliterated.
She charged forward, as she closed the distance, the chaos fueling her feral grin.
Archie was already moving, faster than any normal human. Her right cybernetic arm fired precise, whirring projectiles, each one embedding into a scav before detonating in a crackling burst. Her left arm's mantis blade gleamed under the floodlights, slicing the air as she surged toward the heart of the yard.
"Keep them disorganized! Don't let them regroup!" she barked, as she leapt into the far end of the fray, skewering one of the claws closest to her, a manic grin plastered on her face.
Ethan's heavy assault rifle thundered behind her, laying down a relentless barrage of suppressive fire to cover Archie's charge. Each round punched through containers and crates, sending scavs scrambling for cover as the steel walls around them exploded into sharp, flying shards. "Move, move! I've got your six!" Ethan yelled, his voice a mix of focus and adrenaline.
The scavs and Tyger Claws scattered, their yells overlapping in a cacophony of panic. "We're under attack! They're flanking us! Cover!" a scav screamed, diving behind a container.
I took a steady breath, aimed, and opened fire.
The first shot struck true. A scav froze mid-scream, his body encased in a sheet of ice. The next round found another marked target, curving through the air with unnatural precision before slamming into his chest. Fire erupted instantly, his charred remains crumpling beside his frozen comrade.
Another scav peeked from behind a crate, only to catch a freezing round to the shoulder. Frost spread rapidly, locking him in place just as a thermal round followed, engulfing him in a fiery explosion. His screams died as his body cracked apart, steam hissing in the cold night air.
"Ice rounds! What the fuck—ICE ROUNDS?" a Tyger Claw shouted as another comrade froze solid beside him, only to shatter into steaming chunks when the next bullet hit.
The man's scream was cut short as my next shot hit him square in the chest. Frost erupted instantly, crawling across his body and locking him mid-run.
He didn't even get the chance to fall before the next round followed, flames bursting through his frozen form, shattering it into a steaming mess of shards and charred flesh. His dismembered arm clattered to the ground, frozen solid.
"Fuck! What is that thing?" One of the Tyger Claws shouted, panic thick in her voice. "Smart rifle? Some Prototype tech?!"
Another scav screamed, scrambling for cover as one of my rounds curved mid-air and struck him in the leg. He dropped with a howl, frost creeping up his body, his cries turning guttural as he froze. A moment later, the flames hit, and the limbs shattered into frozen chunks of blood and bone, fire quickly melting the gore quickly; his death sparking fresh terror in those who saw it.
Rebecca let out a wild laugh, pumping Guts for another deafening shot. "You're a goddamn artist, choomba! Build me one of those, and I swear you my life!"
Archie's sharp voice broke through. "I'm on the target—keep the Claws off me!" Her mantis blade flashed as she leapt into a scav, slicing clean through his torso in one brutal, fluid motion.
Another scav raised his rifle to fire, but her cybernetic arm whirred, launching a projectile that exploded on impact, reducing him to a splatter of gut and bones.
A flash of chrome leapt at her from on high, above the containers—a Tyger Claw woman wielding gleaming mantis blades. She lunged at Archie, their blades meeting with a metallic shriek. Sparks flew as Archie's strike glanced off the woman's reinforced chrome skin.
The Claw sneered. "That's not gonna work on me."
Archie snarled back. "Well, bitch I don't need it to." As she kicked the woman away from her.
Bullets tore into the woman's side as Ethan's rifle boomed from behind, they bounced off her chrome skin. The impact staggered her, giving Archie the moment she needed. With a vicious swing, her blade cleaved through the woman's neck, sending her head flying.
Archie didn't stop, bolting toward Peter Upmann, her target still guarded by a huddled group of scavs.
"К черту это! Cover our retreat! We're getting the fuck outta here!" a scav yelled desperately. "Don't let her get close!"
A Tyger Claw's voice rang out, sharp with fury. "That fucker with the exotic weapon—kill him! He dies today!"
Two Claws broke away and charged at me, one a hulking sumo-like figure with a shotgun, the other a lithe woman armed with mantis blades.
I aimed my gun at them, hoping to end them before they reached me, but my tags weren't on them.
The shotgun wielder fired, and I dove behind a container just as the pellets tore through the air, peppering the metal with sharp cracks.
"Come out and die, you bastard!" The chrome giant growled as he reloaded.
Rebecca's shotgun barked, hitting him square in the chest. The impact knocked him back, but his heavily chromed body absorbed the blast, and he pushed forward again, roaring. "You think that's enough to stop me? Try again, bakayarou!"
The mantis blade wielder darted toward me, her speed enhanced massively as she zig-zagged her way through the yard.
I fired at her anyway, but without a tag on her, the bullets couldn't trace her. She weaved through the barrage, closing the gap. Her blade slashed out, glancing off my jacket. The Kevlar-infused jacket held, leaving me unscathed, but the force of the blow left I could already feel.
She kept slashing at me at supreme speed, but found no purchase on my clothes on any of the attacks, no matter what she did. I was certain she had tried stabbing my neck twice and had failed supremely in her efforts.
"What the fuck?" she hissed, her confusion buying me precious seconds.
I didn't hesitate.
My SMG roared again, as she tried to leap aside. The first shot caught her in the side. Ice spread instantly, locking her chrome joints in place mid-motion. She managed a choked gasp before the next round struck, flames bursting through her frozen form.
She screamed as the alternating rounds hit her again and again—frozen, shattered, burned, and frozen again. Her chrome skin cracked and splintered, chunks breaking off as her body twisted unnaturally. By the time I stopped firing, there was nothing left but a grotesque pile of molten metal, shattered ice, and boiling frozen blood and guts.
I turned my focus to the chromed-up sumo, shouting, "Rebecca, I have him, back off!"
Without hesitation, Rebecca fired another shell into him. The blast staggered him slightly, but he roared, unfazed, his chrome-plated body absorbing the hit.
Rebecca gritted her teeth and surged forward, her Gorilla Arms snapping out.
The punch connected with a sickening crunch, sending the massive man skidding back a few feet, but the recoil launched her several feet as well. She rolled and popped back up, flashing me a wild grin. "Do your thing, Zain!"
I didn't waste the opportunity. My SMG roared to life, spraying bullets that tore into the sumo's chest and shoulders. The first freezing round hit, spreading frost across his bulk, locking his joints momentarily. Before he could even react, a thermal round slammed into him, fire and ice battling for dominance over his chrome-plated body.
He screamed, a guttural, rage-filled bellow, as another freezing round struck, his arms locking in place. His flesh split and cracked under the alternating impacts. The thermal rounds melted the frost, only for it to return and freeze him again in a bloody gory loop.
Finally, his body gave way—chrome plating buckled, his chest exploded into shards of ice and steaming viscera, and he toppled like a broken machine.
The container yard was a chaotic mess.
Flames licked the edges of some containers, while others were coated in frost, the metal groaning under the sudden temperature shifts. Not every bullet had found its mark.
"Shit! I broke through the ICE" Yoko's voice cut through the comms, edged with panic. "But she's traced my connection! A couple of Claws are moving on me—fast! I need help!"
I scanned the area. Archie and Ethan were far ahead now, locked in the thick of the fight. Ethan's rifle barked in the distance, while Archie's mantis blade flashed as she tore through her path toward Peter.
"I'm on my way!" I shouted, signaling the direction of Yoko's position.
Archie's voice came through, calm but firm. "We're almost through to Peter. Rebecca, Ethan—cover me. They will not escape. We won't get another chance like this."
Rebecca split off, firing at the remaining Claws as I bolted toward Yoko's position.
Ahead of me, a group of Tyger Claws rushed toward the silo where the car was parked. I raised my SMG and sprayed the ground in front of them. Ice erupted across the concrete, freezing the path under their feet. Flames followed, creating a chaotic sea of fire and frost.
The group faltered, skidding to a halt.
One turned toward me and yelled, "It's the prototype weapon! Kuso kutte shineyo, kuso yarō!"
I ducked as bullets slammed into the container I used for cover.
My SMG clicked—it was empty. I yanked a fresh magazine from my belt and slammed it into place, firing blindly around the corner to keep them at bay.
A loud whoosh and a heavy thud snapped my attention upward. A Claw had vaulted onto the container above me, his cybernetic arm aimed straight down at me. The massive hand cannon gleamed under the lights, a shot charging in the barrel.
I had nowhere to run. Throwing all my strength into my legs, I leapt aside using whatever college football skill I had to save my life; just as a deafening blast ripped through the space I'd occupied a moment earlier. The shockwave rattled me, but I came up firing, my SMG barking at full auto.
Rounds slammed into the Claw. Frost spread across his torso, locking him in place just as a thermal round hit his head. The upper half of his body erupted, frozen chunks of chrome and flesh raining down the side of the container.
Panting, I leaned against the container, gripping my SMG tightly to steady myself. I peeked around the corner—the rest of the Claws were down, their remains scattered across the ground in grotesque piles of melting chunks of burning iced-over blood, guts, and organs.
"Yoko," I said into the comms, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. "You okay?"
"Yeah…. I don't see anyone else," she replied, her voice calmer now. "But the Claw runner's close—a few yards to your nine o'clock."
"Alright," I responded, my grip tightening on the SMG. "I'm moving in on her,"
"She's holed up in a container," Yoko added. "You'll have to open it. I can't get a look at her"
"Yeah," I said, already moving. "I am on it!"
Yoko's guided me as I made my way toward the container. "Keep moving forward. About thirty yards, just past those frozen containers on your left. Signal's strong."
The path was littered with bodies—Scavs and Tyger Claws alike. Some were cleaved cleanly in half or impaled by Archie's mantis blade. Others had massive bullet holes punched through their torsos, their chrome sparking as they twitched lifelessly. Here and there were frozen chunks of flesh, shattered organs, or misty pools of blood mixed with melted Cyberware.
The sight was overwhelming. My stomach churned as I fought the rising bile in my throat. I had done a lot of this.
Yoko's voice broke through again. "That's it. Signal's coming from inside that container."
I stopped in front of the partially ajar blue container and raised my SMG, keeping it trained on the door. "There's nowhere to run!" I shouted. "I'm giving you one chance. Drop your weapons and surrender!"
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, a voice replied. "Watashi wa bakajanai" I could hear her footsteps shifting inside before she continued. "If you want me, you'll have to come in and take me."
It was an obvious trap.
Yoko's voice cut through the comms, tight with concern. "It's an obvious trap. The door is open, just open fire inside and be done with it."
I hesitated. I could just pepper the container with bullets and be done with it. But as I glanced around at the carnage—the broken bodies, the grotesque piles of gore—I felt my resolve falter.
My hands tightened on the SMG.
"Does she have any weapons?" I asked, my eyes fixed on the container.
"I don't know," Yoko replied. "I never got a clear look at her."
Alright. This wasn't a problem.
Taking a deep breath, I reached into my jacket and pulled out a small bottle of vinegar-like liquid. The dose was far too strong for prolonged use, so I grabbed a water bottle from another pocket and mixed a few drops in. A quick shake and I poured a small amount on my tongue.
This should last a few minutes at most.
The air shimmered around me as I vanished from sight.
Yoko's voice crackled in my ear. "My drone lost sight of you—are you using active camouflage?"
"Something to that effect," I replied quietly, already moving toward the container.
The door was partially open.
Gripping one of the metal bars, I pulled the door wide open, and no gunfire came from inside.
That was a good sign.
After a moment, I peeked inside. The dim lighting inside revealed a horrifying sight.
We'd assumed the cargo that was being dropped off was Cyberware, that the Scavs had carved up from some unfortunate souls.
But the container wasn't full of such tech. It was full of people.
Men, women, even kids barely out of high school. Their wrists and ankles were bound in heavy chains, their faces pale and terrified. Some looked unconscious, their bodies limp against the cold metal walls. My breath hitched as I counted—ten, maybe more.
This was a human trafficking operation.
What the fuck was going on?
At the far end of the container, the Tyger Claw netrunner stood, holding a knife to a woman's throat. The blade gleamed under the dim light, a stark contrast to her darting eyes as she scanned the entrance.
"Fuzakeru na, Okubyōmono!" she sneered, "Step inside, pussy. Face me."
Her plan was clear—get sight of me and hack my system. But it wasn't going to work. I had no Cyberware for her to exploit.
Steeling my nerves, I stepped into the container, moving as quietly as I could.
Invisible as I was, I navigated carefully through the narrow space, avoiding the chained prisoners. Each step brought me closer to her, my breath steady despite the rage bubbling beneath the surface.
The netrunner's head turned slightly, her eyes narrowing as if sensing something. But it was too late.
I stepped behind her, brandishing my Overture revolver, and pressed it firmly against the base of her skull.
She froze.
"Drop the knife," I said, my voice calm but firm. "Slowly. Let the woman go."
Her breathing quickened, her grip tightening on the blade. For a moment, I thought she might fight.
"Now," I growled, pushing the revolver painfully into her skull. "Do it. Or I'll end you where you stand."
Her fingers trembled as she loosened her grip on the knife. It clattered to the floor, and the hostage collapsed forward, her tied feet preventing her from moving away. The netrunner stood still, her breath shallow.
I waited a second longer. Then, without hesitation, I pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed inside the container, deafening and final. Frost spread from the impact, freezing her brain in an instant before the pressure caused it to shatter violently. Her body crumpled, lifeless, as shards of frozen bone and flesh scattered across the metal floor.
The container was silent save for the muffled sobs of the hostages.
I stared hollow-eyed at the corpse, and as if in an attempt to provide comfort. The forge moved in the back of my head.
The galaxy shimmered, and a constellation sharpened into focus. One star pulsed brightly, light pouring into my soul.
The ancient written knowledge of legend flowed into me.
The art of forging the finest of katanas, tantos, and swords unfolded in my mind with vivid clarity. Each fold of steel carried a purpose, each tempering a delicate dance of strength and flexibility.
I understood the subtleties of balance, the harmony of weight, and the grace imbued into a weapon meant to be both deadly and beautiful.
Techniques for forging armor that could withstand the most ferocious blows, tools that could carve the finest details into wood or stone, and even intricate mechanisms that fused utility with elegance—all of it surged through me. I could feel the rhythm of the forge, the heat of the flames, the song of steel taking shape under practiced hands.
I know how to treat each metal with the respect it deserved—the unyielding strength of steel, honed through countless folds to reach its peak; the steadfast reliability of bronze, a timeless foundation for artisans; the rare purity of silver, delicate yet resilient. Even metals I had never encountered—light yet unbreakable alloys or the enduring brilliance of mithril—demanded the same reverence, their unique properties now an integral part of this newfound understanding.
And then, there were the marks. Of the soul written in ancient deific Kanji. A single inscribed signature could imbue these creations with power beyond the physical.
I could now imbue concepts of the very nature into any object of value that I deemed worthy.
The possibilities were endless.
"The target has been neutralized." Archie's voice sounded in the comms "Do you need backup?"
I waited for just a short breath. Rage tempered in my soul.
"No…." I replied, "But we have a situation on our hands… there's people being transported in these containers."
"….shit. We're on our way."
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
(A/N)
Action! Action! Action!
A shorter chapter than intended. But I think I covered everything.
This was fun to write and tackle. I hope this was as intense as I had wanted it to feel. Zain made some mistakes here but did well enough. He had support and was not bumbling on his own.
On that note, I would appreciate ideas for names for the SMG Zain is running at the moment. I have a few, but I will appreciate more.
The ones I have are Crissaegrim, Blue Crimson, Shine and Shadow, etc….
Rolls for this chapter:
Domain: Crafting: Metallurgy:
Munechika's Legacy to Future Smiths (Golden Sky Stories) (300CP):
These are the notes of one Munechika Sanjou – one of the blacksmiths who forged the five swords under heaven – blades of renown in this land. Though his notes are rather tattered and sparse, they still possess a wealth of information for any aspiring blacksmith. Any piece you create is far more likely to become a recognized masterpiece, and should you inscribe a signature onto a piece, you can weave an ability into the weapon to empower them. Any who reads these notes can perform such a task, but the quality of their work will be dependent on their own skill.
Zain opened with 550 CPs, used 300, and has 250 in reserve.