When Levi woke from the anesthesia, the afternoon sun was already beginning to slant through the clinic windows.
Victor was back at his station, nursing a beer and performing maintenance on his own surgical hardware while watching a boxing rerun.
Hearing Levi stir, Vic picked up an inhaler and walked over.
“Your body can only handle so much chrome, Levi.
Any more and you’re begging for cyberpsychosis.” “So, stay away from the ripperchair until you’re fully healed,” Vic warned, handing him the inhaler.
“If you absolutely must have work done, call me.
I’ll handle it.
It minimizes the risk.” “What is this, Vic?” Levi asked, examining the device.
“Flex-stim.
Boosts neural transmission and suppresses cyberware rejection.
Take two puffs now, and two more in an hour.” Levi complied, pressing the nozzle to his lips.
A cool, grey-blue mist hissed out.
The relief was instantaneous; the familiar static and tension he’d felt since the surgery vanished.
“Thanks, Doc.
What do I owe you for the parts and the time?” Levi stood, feeling lighter than he had since stepping into Night City.
“Thirty thousand for the hardware.
Give me ten.
The surgical fee is already covered,” Victor said, his eyes back on the screen.
Levi crunched the numbers and, using his Biomonitor 1 interface, transferred thirty thousand credits directly to Victor’s account.
“Levi!” Victor shouted, glancing at the confirmation on his monitor, his expression irritable.
“Consider the extra ten a down payment on the next round of implants, Vic,” Levi said, already walking toward the exit.
Victor watched him go, shaking his head.
“Kid’s gonna be trouble.” Outside, Levi used his Ripper-Electric Mk.1 deck to ping the Night City regional network.
With time to burn, he grabbed a taxi and headed for the Northside Industrial District.
Meredith Stout had confirmed Anthony Gilchrist was lurking in Northside, though she hadn’t provided an exact coordinate.
Levi didn’t have a contact network, but he had his own methods.
The cab dropped him off at the All Foods plant.
Levi walked up the incline and hammered on the heavy metal door.
“Who the hell is that?
Can’t you read the ‘Closed’ sign?” a voice barked over the intercom.
A camera swiveled to track him.
Levi looked directly into the lens.
The next second, the clack of a motorized lock echoed, and the heavy security gate groaned open.
“Oh, shit!
It’s you!
Why didn’t you say so?
I’ll have someone come get you right away!” The voice had shifted from belligerent to sycophantic.
Two female Maelstrom gangers emerged.
They flanked him, locking arms with him and pulling him inside.
They were heavily chromed—six glowing red LED optical eyes apiece—but beneath the plating, their silhouettes were unnaturally perfect, all razor-thin waists and curves.
The contrast was disturbing, yet oddly beautiful.
They led him to the machine room where he’d dealt with Royce and Dum Dum.
A woman was waiting—red hair, skin-tight leather armor, four glowing red optics, and a stomach reinforced with polished steel.
“Why are you here?” she grated.
Her voice sounded like a man’s, distorted by heavy electronic filters.
“Wasn’t icing Royce and Dum Dum enough for you?” [Name: Ophelia Seravian/Patricia] [Affiliation: Maelstrom] [Cyberware: Pain Editor, Optical Sensors, Reflex Booster, Titanium Skeletal/Arm/Leg/Hand structure, Sandevistan] [Threat Level: High] [Evaluation: A chrome-addicted maniac, one of Maelstrom’s top enforcers, manager of the Totentanz club.] “You the new leader?” Levi asked.
“No.
Brick is the boss.
He’s closing a deal with Militech right now.
What do you want?” The two gangers holding his arms tightened their grip, terrified he was going to start a slaughter.
“Anthony Gilchrist.
Heard of him?” Levi flexed, his kinetic assist system venting as he ripped his arms from the women’s grip.
They recoiled, eyes flickering in fear.
“You work for him?” “He’s our guest,” Patricia said.
“You have to talk to Brick.
Come.” She led him into a private chamber.
There, seated on a long leather couch, was the Militech agent Meredith had marked for death.
“Brick.
New guest,” Patricia announced.
Brick, a mountain of heavy-duty Maelstrom hardware, turned his head.
His LEDs flared bright crimson.
“You?
Why are you here?
Killing Royce and Dum Dum not enough?” “Actually, no,” Levi said, flopping onto a chair to Brick’s left.
He looked straight at Gilchrist.
“It wasn’t.” Patricia and Brick drew their handguns instantly.
They didn’t aim, but they held them with white-knuckled desperation.
“Who are you killing this time?” Brick growled.
“Anthony Gilchrist.
I’m on a contract,” Levi said.
He drew his Atlas 45 and leveled it at the agent.
“He’s our guest!” Patricia screamed, leveling her gun at Levi.
“Not anymore.
And neither are you.” Levi didn’t blink.
He triggered, put a bullet through Gilchrist’s head, and in the same fluid motion, snapped his aim to Patricia.
Bang-bang.
She dropped before she could pull her trigger.
“I hate it when people point guns at me,” Levi said coolly, his gaze slowly shifting toward Brick.
— Don’t forget to send Spirit Stones for more chapters.
Extra chapter when we reach 100 Spirit Stones Can’t wait for the daily uploads?
“@” with the letter “a”.
For every person who joins,
With a thank you note with your username on the chapter.
Make sure to message or like which story you came from so I can make sure I add the bonus chapters on the right story.