The night air of Santo Domingo pulsed with life.
A roaring bonfire crackled at the center of the gathering, casting dancing shadows across worn-out sofas, scattered beer bottles, and the countless faces gathered around it.
Neon lights from nearby storefronts painted the street in shifting colors while loud music blasted from battered speakers, shaking the ground beneath everyone’s feet.
For most people in Night City, this was just another night.
For mercenaries, it was a celebration of survival.
Rebecca happily skipped through the crowd, holding a delicate cherry blossom-shaped cocoa cup in one hand.
Her bright smile seemed completely out of place in a city built on greed and violence.
“Hmph hmph hmph~” Humming a cheerful tune, she bounced over to Sasha.
“Here, this is for you.” “Thank you, Rebecca.” Sasha accepted the drink with a warm smile.
After taking a small sip, her eyes immediately narrowed in satisfaction, creating a cat-like expression on her face.
At the same moment, a hand slowly crept toward her waist.
Smack!
Without even looking behind her, Sasha slapped the wandering hand away.
Pilar immediately pulled back and sighed dramatically.
“Damn.
Rejected again.” The crowd burst into laughter.
Sasha merely rolled her eyes.
Everyone already knew what kind of idiot Pilar was.
The giant man standing nearby watched the interaction with amusement.
Maine.
The undisputed leader of the crew.
Despite his intimidating chrome-covered body and towering frame, there was a relaxed smile on his face tonight.
The job had gone well.
Very well.
“Oh right, Sasha.” Maine activated his personal link.
A notification appeared instantly.
Transfer Complete.
“Your cut.” Sasha checked her account and nodded with satisfaction.
“Thanks.” At that moment, an elderly woman approached carrying a medical bag.
Without hesitation, Maine took a vial from inside.
The immunosuppressant.
His recently upgraded cyberware was still causing significant rejection symptoms.
Without regular medication, the consequences could become severe.
Sssss— The injector pressed against his arm.
The liquid entered his bloodstream.
“Haaah…” Maine exhaled deeply.
His tense muscles finally relaxed.
The burning sensation beneath his chrome faded almost immediately.
“Damn.” A grin spread across his face.
“That feels good.” The old woman shook her head.
“You’ve installed too much chrome too quickly.” “I’ll be fine.” “You said that last time.” “I was fine last time.” The old woman snorted.
Everyone nearby laughed.
Maine simply patted his chest confidently.
As far as he was concerned, his body could handle anything.
Or at least, that’s what he wanted everyone to believe.
Then— SCREEECH!
The violent sound of brakes cut through the music.
Bright headlights flooded the gathering.
Instantly, conversations stopped.
The music faded.
Several mercenaries instinctively reached toward concealed weapons.
A sleek black Chevrolet Thrax rolled to a stop.
The door opened.
A tall figure stepped out.
The man wore a perfectly tailored crimson suit paired with a pristine white shirt.
Black gloves covered his hands while silver-white hair was slicked neatly backward.
But none of those details attracted attention.
It was his eyes.
Three cybernetic eyes on one side.
One on the other.
Four eyes total.
Faraday.
The fixer.
And a man few people trusted.
Maine immediately clicked his tongue.
“Tch.” His relaxed mood vanished instantly.
Faraday never appeared without a reason.
And whenever he did, trouble usually followed.
The crowd quietly made room as Maine approached.
Faraday smiled politely.
“Maine.” “Faraday.” “Makes sense I’d find you here.” “What do you want?” Faraday chuckled.
“Straight to business as always.” “What do you want?” The smile remained on Faraday’s face.
“It seems your crew caused quite a scene on Twisty Street today.” Maine shrugged.
“Maybe.” “The Tiger Claws don’t seem happy about it.” Now that caught his attention.
Faraday continued.
“They’ve placed a bounty on your head.” Several nearby crew members immediately frowned.
Rebecca looked excited instead.
“How much?!” Faraday ignored her.
“The amount isn’t insignificant.” Maine laughed.
“Good.” Faraday blinked.
“Good?” “If the bounty’s low, it means nobody respects me.” A few crew members laughed.
Faraday merely shook his head.
“As expected.” Then his expression became serious.
“But that’s not why I’m here.” Maine folded his arms.
“Then why are you here?” “I have a job.” The moment those words left his mouth, everyone nearby became interested.
Faraday wasn’t known for bringing ordinary contracts.
His jobs usually paid well.
Very well.
But they often came with hidden complications.
“What kind of job?” “A difficult one.” Maine immediately narrowed his eyes.
That answer alone told him enough.
“If it were easy,” Faraday continued calmly, “I wouldn’t be talking to you.” His gaze drifted toward the crew.
It paused briefly on Sasha.
Only briefly.
Yet Maine noticed immediately.
He stepped slightly sideways, blocking Faraday’s line of sight.
Faraday smiled.
Maine didn’t.
“Explain.” “Not here.” Faraday gestured toward his vehicle.
“Let’s talk inside.” A few minutes later, both men sat inside the Chevrolet.
Maine looked around.
“Damn.” He whistled softly.
“This thing isn’t cheap.” “It is if you buy it legally.” Maine smirked.
“And illegally?” Faraday returned the smirk.
“Much cheaper.” Neither elaborated further.
Night City had countless methods of obtaining expensive things.
Faraday reached into his pocket and produced a data shard.
“Take a look.” Maine inserted it.
A dossier appeared before his eyes.
Personal information.
Travel records.
Employment history.
Security clearances.
Corporate credentials.
Then Maine froze.
“Militech?” Faraday remained calm.
“Problem?” Maine stared at him.
“A corporate target?” “Continue reading.” Maine scrolled further.
The deeper he looked, the more dangerous the situation appeared.
Then he saw the proposed payment.
100,000 Eurodollars.
His eyes widened.
“One hundred thousand?” Even Maine couldn’t hide his surprise.
That amount was enormous.
Faraday nodded.
“Interested?” Maine wasn’t excited.
He was concerned.
Jobs paying this much usually carried enough risk to get entire crews killed.
“What exactly is the objective?” Faraday answered without hesitation.
“Kill him.” Silence filled the vehicle.
Maine stared at him.
“That’s it?” “I’ll provide location and timing later.” “And?” “And you’ll pull the trigger.” Maine leaned back.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Faraday was hiding something.
As usual.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Faraday remained silent.
Maine’s expression darkened.
“Why is Militech paying six figures to remove one employee?” Faraday sighed.
“He defected.” “Defected?” “He joined Arasaka.” The atmosphere instantly changed.
Maine slammed a hand against the dashboard.
“Son of a bitch.” Faraday remained quiet.
“You weren’t planning on mentioning that part?” Faraday offered no defense.
That silence was answer enough.
Maine cursed under his breath.
A conflict involving Militech and Arasaka was completely different from ordinary mercenary work.
This wasn’t gang warfare.
This wasn’t smuggling.
This wasn’t theft.
This was corporate warfare.
And corporate wars destroyed entire cities.
Yet despite his frustration, Maine couldn’t deny the opportunity.
One hundred thousand.
No.
Now it would cost more.
A lot more.
After several moments, he finally spoke.
“I’ll do it.” Faraday nodded.
Then Maine added: “But the price goes up.” The fixer studied him for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
“How much?” “One hundred fifty thousand.” Faraday considered it.
A moment later he nodded.
“Accepted.” Maine immediately knew Faraday had expected that response.
Which meant the real budget was probably even higher.
That irritated him even more.
Faraday opened the door.
“I’ll contact you when everything is ready.” Maine stepped out.
Before leaving, he looked back.
“If this turns into a corporate war…” “It won’t.” “You sure?” “No.” Faraday smiled.
That answer somehow felt more honest.
The Chevrolet pulled away moments later.
Back inside the vehicle, Faraday’s expression gradually darkened.
Once he was alone, he initiated a secure call.
The connection activated instantly.
“The assignment has been delivered.” “And?” “Maine accepted.” “Excellent.” The voice on the other side sounded pleased.
“Payment will arrive shortly.” Faraday stared out the window.
“Tell me something.” “What?” “If Militech wanted this man dead so badly, why not handle it yourselves?” Silence.
Then laughter.
Cold laughter.
“Faraday.” The voice became dangerous.
“You’re asking questions above your pay grade.” The call disconnected.
Immediately.
Faraday clenched his fists.
Veins bulged beneath his gloves.
“Damn corporate bastards.” His cybernetic eyes twitched.
“They all think they’re gods.” Unfortunately, he also knew the truth.
They weren’t entirely wrong.
To Militech, people like him were tools.
Useful.
Replaceable.
Cheap.
That was exactly why they had chosen him.
Using Faraday created distance.
Using Maine created plausible deniability.
If the operation succeeded, Militech would quietly celebrate.
If it failed, they could deny involvement completely.
No direct confrontation.
No political consequences.
No public scandal.
No corporate war.
A perfect arrangement.
The real problem wasn’t simply that Koch had defected.
Militech lost employees constantly.
Arasaka stole talent all the time.
That wasn’t unusual.
The problem was what Koch carried with him.
Sensitive cyberware research.
Experimental data.
Proprietary technology.
Someone with his clearance never should have accessed those files.
The fact that he did exposed a far bigger internal problem.
Executives had already been fired.
Security departments were being investigated.
Entire divisions were under review.
The embarrassment alone was worth millions.
And now they wanted Koch erased.
Not because they expected to recover the stolen data.
That ship had already sailed.
No.
They wanted to make an example.
A warning.
A message.
Anyone who betrayed Militech would eventually die.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe next year.
Maybe ten years later.
But eventually.
Always eventually.
As for Arasaka?
That situation was even more complicated.
Neither corporation wanted open conflict in Night City right now.
The cost would be enormous.
The political fallout even worse.
So instead, they fought through shadows.
Through mercenaries.
Through fixers.
Through deniable assets.
People like Faraday.
People like Maine.
Disposable pieces on a corporate chessboard.
Faraday leaned back in his seat.
The city lights reflected across his four mechanical eyes.
Somewhere in Night City, Koch was still breathing.
Still unaware.
Still carrying information powerful corporations were willing to kill for.
And very soon— Maine’s crew would be coming for him.
Whether the mission succeeded or failed, one thing was certain.
The moment Militech and Arasaka became involved, the stakes had already risen far beyond the understanding of ordinary mercenaries.
And in Night City, when corporations started moving pieces behind the scenes…
Blood always followed.
——————————– CREATORS’ THOUGHTS ShadowSamuraiTL Have some idea about my story?
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