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By evening, Rook left the workshop satisfied.
He had gotten the answer he wanted.
The process would be troublesome, but if it was possible, that was enough.
When he reached the first-floor living room, the smell of roasted meat drifted in from outside.
On the rooftop lawn, Lucy had set up a grill.
A long camping table waited nearby, clearly prepared for guests.
Music played through the speakers, the same song as before.
“I Really Want to Stay at Your House.”
She hummed along, moving with the rhythm as she worked.
From behind, she looked almost at home there, which somehow made the scene more dangerous to his heart.
“Lucy, is today a special occasion?”
She paused when she heard him, then turned and looked annoyed, as if he had won another round without trying.
“You were right.
Sasha contacted me.
They’ll be here soon.
Jackie is bringing someone too.
Were you planning to make people work for you on an empty stomach?”
The rooftop elevator chimed before he could answer.
“Mr.
Mercer!”
Maine’s voice arrived before he did.
Compared to the restrained tone he had used in Afterlife, he sounded much lighter now.
“Smells good.
Rebecca’s voice came next.
A small figure shot across the lawn and stopped by the grill, eyes locked on the meat skewers sizzling over the heat.
“I have to say, Mr.
Mercer has taste,” Pilar said, looking over the duplex with open envy.
“Panoramic glass, rooftop view, Night City under your feet.
Not bad.”
Dorio looked apologetic.
Sasha and Kiwi greeted Rook, then went straight to Lucy’s side to help.
Those three netrunners had probably been talking across the Net since the moment they met.
“Mr.
Mercer,” Maine said, scratching the back of his head as he approached.
His awkward smile was big enough to build an apartment in.
“I want to apologize for the crew earlier today.”
“Maine, nothing happened earlier today, right?”
Rook tapped a fist lightly against his chest.
The tension left the crew at once.
“You’re not bad, you know that?” Rebecca said around the first skewer of the night.
“If anybody messes with you out there, drop my name.
I’ll cover you.”
The little solo was in a good mood after getting meat.
She sidled up beside him, tongue out against the heat, poked him, and acted proud and generous.
Rook ruffled her hair in answer.
In the original path, Lucy had become Night City’s grieving widow in all but name because of David.
Rebecca had been crushed into pulp by Adam Smasher because of David.
Now Lucy had not met David.
Rebecca had not met David.
Rook would not allow those tragedies to happen around him.
That is cold.
You started eating without me?”
Jackie came out of the elevator carrying two cases of canned beer, his face exaggerated with betrayal.
Behind him walked exactly the person Rook had hoped to see.
T-Bug.
He had not truly expected Jackie to bring her.
T-Bug was an extremely professional netrunner, steadier and more specialized than Lucy, Sasha, or Kiwi.
She also worked from the shadows and rarely dealt with people face-to-face.
Jackie set the beer down and scratched the back of his head, looking almost as awkward as Maine had.
“Hermano, about that task you gave me.
I couldn’t really pull it off.
I know people, but finding a whole crew at Maine’s level?
Not that easy.”
Then he stepped aside and presented T-Bug with obvious pride.
“But this one?
Top-tier netrunner, professionally speaking.
The famous T-Bug.
Bet you didn’t expect that.
I couldn’t get her to come at first, but the second I mentioned your name, she agreed to meet.”
The name made even Maine’s crew look over.
Especially Lucy, Sasha, and Kiwi.
As netrunners, they understood exactly who had just arrived.
If Maine was one of the best-known mercs in Night City, then T-Bug was the gold standard among the city’s netrunners, professional, precise, and respected.
There was even a saying among them:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter.