People with big dreams and ideals often ended up in pain. Those who saw the world's true nature yet chose a path of selfish indulgence lived only for themselves, uncaring if the world drowned in floodwaters tomorrow. They would board the first ship off this planet before the deluge struck. But those with ideals felt hurt and angry about society's decay, about other's suffering, to the point of guilt and self-blame.
Leo sighed.
"So what are you going to do now?"
Linari turned and looked at him. "What would you do in my position?"
"In Night City, everyone's rotten to the core. Handing over that evidence wouldn't bring down the masterminds—it might just drag you into their mess." Leo thought for a moment and gave her his honest take. "If it were me, I'd quit the NCPD."
Of course, there was another option: do nothing, just like many in the NCPD. Shut your eyes and ears, pretend you saw nothing, heard nothing. Put in the bare minimum until the day you retired—carefully balancing how not to work while avoiding reprimands or complaints. But Linari had asked what Leo would do, and that was his answer.
Linari gave a small laugh. "That sounds like you. But I'm not quitting the NCPD."
Her expression grew serious. "One person's power is limited, so I'll protect whatever I can, even if it's just a tiny bit. I'll protect what matters most. People at the bottom can still help those beneath them. Even if it's something small, it's worth doing."
She noticed Leo staring at her, wide-eyed. "What's that look for?"
"You look like you're glowing from behind—like a halo of holy light," he teased.
Linari's face froze.
"Okay, jokes aside," Leo said, turning serious again. "Don't try to carry everything alone. You're not fighting this battle by yourself—you have me."
She answered by reflex, "Thanks."
"No, I'm not comforting you. Next time you plan to seek justice, call me. But for now, we still have unfinished business, right? We need to wipe out the rest of those Scavs. The sooner we're done, the sooner we can go home and sleep."
…
"Chimerkovsky, are you out of your mind?"
Yelena Sidorova checked her phone. It was already ten at night. As someone who had once been just another overworked corporate drone, she knew the importance of taking care of herself. She was usually in bed by nine. Tonight, Chimerkovsky had woken her up.
He didn't lose his temper but asked, "Roland and Bannings disappeared—where did they go?"
"How should I know?" Sidorova snapped. "Maybe they went out looking for fun." She rolled her eyes, ready to flop back on the bed and get some sleep. Staying up all night was the worst.
Chimerkovsky grabbed Sidorova's arm and dragged her out of bed.
"Hey, what's your problem? Let go!"
"Did you send them off somewhere? I told you we had to lay low. Now's not the time to be drawing attention."
Sidorova let her gaze drift down, sneering. "What's wrong with you, Chimerkovsky? Missing something down there? When did you get so scared?"
He forced himself to stay calm. "I'm not scared; I'm worried about the group."
"That's called being a coward," Sidorova retorted mercilessly. "Before you joined, I led these people for two years without any trouble."
"This time is different."
She rolled her eyes again. "And how is it different?"
He was reaching the end of his patience. If not for his grudging respect for her leadership skills, he would have walked away a long time ago.
"You're tangled up with Fort and his cronies. Nothing good comes from that."
Sidorova burst out laughing. "We're Scavs, Chimerkovsky. Who's lower than us? Fort at least pays us. A little courtesy, money in my pocket—what's there to complain about?"
"You—"
"If you've got nothing else to say, I'm going back to bed. Don't get in the way of my beauty sleep."
Chimerkovsky sighed. "One day, you'll get us all killed."
Sidorova shrugged. "You never know. Maybe I'll lead everyone to replace Maelstrom and take control of the entire industrial district."
Just then, an explosion rocked the outside, lighting up Sidorova's face with a burst of red-orange glow.
Boom!
A ball of fire erupted by the factory wall, bright enough to see even from a distance.
"What the hell?!"
Sidorova rushed to the window, trying to see through the darkness outside. She saw a few of her people step out to investigate—only to be gunned down like sitting ducks.
"Damn it! It's the NCPD!"
Chimerkovsky grabbed her arm. "Why are you just standing there? Move!"
…
Let's rewind a bit. To avoid alerting the Scavs, Leo parked his bike two blocks from the factory, and he and Linari moved forward on foot. A few minutes later, they spotted the faint lights of the old compound in the distance.
"That's where Sidorova's group is holed up," Leo said.
Linari turned to him. "What's the plan?"
He smirked. "We knock on their door and see who comes out."
He pulled out a sniper rifle instead of his usual blade. Linari's eyes widened.
"That's a Nekomata! Where did you get it?"
Nekomata was a tech sniper rifle made by Tsunami Defense Systems, firing tungsten spines capable of tearing through thick armor and walls, shredding even titanium reinforcements. It was heavily restricted—ordinary gun shops never stocked it.
Leo merely smiled. The only answer was that he'd built it himself.
…
Bang!
Boom!
A stack of junk outside the factory exploded, lighting up the dark street with a burst of flame.
"Who's there?!"
Several Scavs ran out, only to be shredded by bullets from the dark, one after another. After a few deaths, the rest huddled inside, firing blindly into the night. Another loud gunshot rang out, taking down a Scav who had hidden behind cover; the bullet pierced his heart, and he dropped like a stone. The survivors panicked, unable to figure out what was happening. They assumed an enemy had slipped into the factory. They searched frantically but found nothing.
The horrifying shots kept coming. A second. A third. Even with the walls for cover, they crumpled like weeds under a scythe. One of them noticed a hole in the concrete where a round had punched right through. Realization dawned—it was a charged tech weapon.
Before he could warn the others, another shot rang out. His head burst apart like an overripe melon.