Jake Quinn looked at his computer screen, completely bewildered.
Wasn’t David supposed to be in North Longshore?
What was with all these 6th Street gangers around him?
He had just returned from the bank.
The motorcycle was parked in the shed downstairs, and the handbag containing the Sandevistan and the box with the pistol were safely hidden in his closet.
He had logged onto the game hoping to make some big bucks, only to find a complete beatdown in progress!
David’s health bar had already dropped a chunk.
If he’d logged in any later, was 6th Street going to delete his save file too?
Absolutely outrageous!
Though he had no idea what had actually happened in-game, now wasn’t the time to figure it out.
Time to clear out 6th Street first!
…
Seeing David standing frozen, Sunglasses gestured impatiently with his chin to two men beside him.
“Go drag that psycho off the bike.” Two 6th Street gangers stepped forward with evil smirks, reaching out to grab David’s arms.
They failed to notice the touch of pity that had appeared in David’s eyes.
The next second, an Ajax assault rifle materialized out of thin air.
David raised the barrel and pulled the trigger, the gun body blurring from the rapid motion.
Shooting while moving at high speeds made hitting targets nearly impossible, but Jake Quinn hadn’t bothered aiming in the first place.
*Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!* A flurry of gunshots exploded.
Bullets sprayed in every direction like they were free.
It was pure spray-and-pray, yet the two closest 6th Street members were still squarely hit.
Their heads blew open instantly.
A crimson mist scattered in the sunlight as their bodies collapsed like dead weight.
“Fuck!
He’s shooting!” “Take cover!
Get behind something!” The remaining 6th Street gangers scattered like frightened birds.
Some dove behind the SUVs, others rolled behind abandoned vending machines on the sidewalk, and some flattened themselves on the pavement with their hands over their heads.
Not a single person shot back.
First, higher-ups had ordered them to take him alive.
Second, compared to killing David, their own skin was far more valuable.
Faced with David’s storm of bullets, their instinct was to duck for cover rather than counterattack.
As muzzle flashes spat fire, pedestrians on the street froze for a split second before scattering like terrified rats.
“Fuck!
Gunfire!” “Help!
Somebody help!” “Don’t kill me…
please don’t kill me!” Coronado Farm Road erupted into utter chaos.
Women carrying shopping bags shrieked and sprinted for the corner, while a delivery man tumbled off his bike, scrambled up, and ran for his life.
Nearby, a man in overalls went pale as a sheet, trembling as he pulled out his phone to dial the NCPD emergency line.
In front of his computer screen, Jake Quinn suddenly noticed a white star light up on the mini-map in the top right corner: “Wanted level?” Hearing the whisper in his mind, David’s heart sank to his boots.
NCPD!
Night City had no shortage of cops, but they never gave a damn about ordinary people’s lives unless someone opened fire in the open, threatening order—or interfering with their business.
Now this guy was spraying bullets down the middle of the street, two 6th Street boys dead, lead flying everywhere, and civilians scrambling.
Before long, police cruisers would descend from the sky, and MaxTac might even deploy.
If the NCPD arrived and pinned him down alongside 6th Street, he was dead for sure!
David’s breath hitched, his gaze turning fierce and ruthless.
The only way out…
was to slaughter every 6th Street bastard here before the cops showed up!
He couldn’t do it, but the evil spirit could!
Come on!
Massacre them all!
“Damn, no way I can fight this out!” Jake Quinn’s eyes swept across the mini-map.
The nearest NCPD patrol car was less than two streets away.
With his current gear, forget MaxTac—the police’s smart weapons and heavy armor alone would tear him apart.
Getting bogged down with 6th Street meant he’d be totally screwed!
“He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day!
Time to bolt, my friend!
We’re outta here!” David: “???” *Your subject was ready to fight to the death—why is Your Majesty surrendering first?!* Meanwhile, 6th Street still didn’t dare poke their heads out.
Without waiting to empty the Ajax’s magazine, Jake Quinn locked his eyes on a car nearby.
It was a beige Herrera two-door sports car.
The driver, a corp-rat in a cheap suit, was staring in dumbfounded shock at the scene.
His car was sitting right in the middle of the road, unable to move forward or reverse.
That’s the one!
Without hesitation, Jake Quinn controlled David and bolted over.
“Hey!
What are you doing?!” Before the corp-rat could finish, the door was yanked open.
Jake Quinn hauled him out, slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and stomped on the gas—all in one smooth motion.
*Vroom—!* The engine let out a furious roar as the car launched forward like an arrow off the bow.
“Fuck!
He’s bolting!” “Get moving, idiots!
Pursuit!” The 6th Street gang finally reacted, scrambling out from cover, hopping back into their SUVs, and tearing off in pursuit.
Jake Quinn stared at the screen, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.
This Herrera handled even worse than he’d imagined—tires felt like they were made of soap, drifting out of control the moment he stepped on the gas.
Absolute garbage, lightyears behind a motorcycle.
The only upside was that it provided bulletproofing, keeping David from getting headshot by 6th Street.
In the rearview mirror, two SUVs were closing in fast.
A window rolled down, and Sunglasses leaned out once again, submachine gun in hand.
This time, he aimed for the tires again.
*Bang!* Another shot rang out behind them.
Jake Quinn felt the steering wheel jerk violently as the car lost its balance instantly.
Shreds of rubber flew off the blown rear tire, the metal rim grinding against the asphalt and plowing a blinding streak of sparks.
The Herrera slowed down visibly.
Though it was actually a pretty good shot, the bald guy next to Sunglasses smacked him on the head anyway.
“Screw the tires!
Shoot the guy!” “Didn’t boss say alive?!” “We lost two brothers!
Screw alive!
Kill the bastard—the chip will talk for itself!” “Oh.” Feeling aggrieved, Sunglasses raised his gun and kept shooting.
Not just him.
The rest of the 6th Street pursuers seemed to have received the same order, opening fire frantically.
A torrential rain of lead slammed into the thin body of the car, shattering glass into a snowstorm of glinting shards.
The whole car was shot to pieces.
Even the side mirror David used to watch his rear was blown away.
The last thing he saw was the two Stars-and-Stripes SUVs rapidly closing the gap.
Although the pursuers were still a short distance away, Santo Domingo was 6th Street territory.
Every street and alley held their eyes; they could be boxed in at any moment.
David’s heart sank to the bottom.
Continuing like this was nothing more than a slow death…
Behind him, the roar of the SUV engines grew louder.
The nearest one was under fifty meters away.
Through the window, Sunglasses leaned out once more, submachine gun leveled in his direction.
“You got balls, kid!
Daring to shoot at us?!” “If I don’t kill you today, I’m your son!” David didn’t look back.
He merely stared at the rapidly approaching SUV in what remained of the mirrors, his heart ice-cold.
Thirty meters.
Twenty meters.
Ten meters.
At the critical moment, Jake Quinn yanked the steering wheel hard.
The Herrera jerked sideways, crashing straight through the guardrail, and flew off the highway into midair!
“!!!” David’s pupils shrank to tiny pinpricks.
That’s a residential area down there!
Is there even a fucking road to drive on?!
Damned demon!!