Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077

It wasn't that he deliberately kept it from Leo; he only knew that V had gone out with Jackei. But he didn't know what they had gone out to do—Pepe didn't know either.

While eating a hamburger with coke, Leo suddenly remembered that he had given V 300,000 euros yesterday. And since his apartment had been arranged by Jackie, it was most likely that V had asked Jackie to find an apartment for herself as well. That must be why she had left the El Coyote Bar so early.

The more Leo thought about it, the more convinced he became that this was indeed the case. Although his reasoning was perfectly logical, no matter how hard he racked his brains, he could never have guessed that the truth was even more than that. In addition to looking for an apartment, the more important matter was that V wanted Jackie to advise her on what gift would be appropriate for Leo's birthday.

…

Leo planned to sit in the bar for a while. If, after he had rested, V and Jackie still hadn't returned, he would use the idle time to manufacture another batch of technical weapons.

No one would complain about making a little money—even if it really was just a string of digits by now, Leo hoped that the string would be as long as possible.

"Hey, interested in taking on a job?" a voice came from beside him. Leo turned his head. The speaker wore sunglasses, appeared to be in his forties, was rather tall, had no beer belly, and maintained a good physique. He was dressed in a striped shirt and dress pants, and a refined watch adorned his wrist.

Leo recognized the man; he had a vague impression of him, as he sometimes also came to the El Coyote Bar. Others had mentioned that he seemed to be a journalist. As for his name, Leo hadn't paid much attention.

"What's the job?"

"Getting rich. Do me a favor—come with me to a place. Interested?"

Leo looked the man up and down. "You should have gone through an intermediary."

"Intermediaries, my ass. They just end up gouging you—mere middlemen. No need for intermediaries; let's deal directly, so you can pocket the extra payment. Wouldn't you want such a good deal?"

In Night City, the rule was that when an employer had a job, they would first hand it over to an intermediary, who would then act as a bridge to connect with the appropriate mercenary. If any disputes arose, the intermediary would step in to settle matters. Naturally, just as there were many online shopping platforms, there were several intermediaries in the city—some reliable, some not.

Alternatively, mercenaries could connect directly with the employer, but if something went wrong later, there'd be no intermediary to smooth things over.

Leo glanced at the journalist a few more times, feeling that the man probably wouldn't try to play him. And even if he did, Leo was more than capable of making sure he got a taste of his own medicine.

"Alright, but you need to explain clearly what this job is about—I hate riddlers."

"My name is Max Jones, and I'm a journalist. But don't you dare lump me in with those corporate mouthpieces."

Max adjusted the sunglasses on his nose. "This morning, someone named Esteban contacted me. We didn't discuss any details over the phone but instead arranged to meet offline. I need you to protect me."

Leo used the last bit of bread to wipe the remaining sauce off his plate and stuffed it into his mouth. "Are you afraid to meet your informant?"

"First, he isn't even my informant; second, you have no idea how dangerous it is to go against a company. I don't know this Esteban—he might really have the company's dirt, or he might simply be luring me into a trap."

"I'm not sure, which is why I came to you. I know that you, the bar owner's son, and that girl are all mercenaries."

"I can pay you, provided you keep me alive so I can continue to expose the company's hidden secrets."

Max's expression was resolute—not feigned, but a true conviction of his principles. At the same time, he wasn't naive; he understood well the risks of his line of work. One careless moment, and it was all too common to end up with a dozen bullets in your back or worse. That was why he sought mercenary protection.

Under the oppressive shadow of corporate colonialism, most people had no choice but to submit. But warriors like Max, who dared to confront the company, were rarer than gold. Therefore, within his means, Leo agreed to help.

"Alright, I'll take this job." Leo told Max to wait a moment while he phoned Jackie.

"Leo, what's up?" came Jackie's voice. "I just got a contract—a protection job…" Leo recounted quickly. "How soon can you be back?"

For some reason, Jackie's tone sounded anxious and hurried: "Uh, Leo, now isn't the time to chat. I'm a bit busy over here… I have to hang up now. We'll talk later." Before Leo could say anything more, Jackie ended the call.

The busy tone on the line left Leo momentarily stunned. He couldn't tell if it was his imagination, but he thought he heard faint sounds of gunfire and explosions in the background. Could it be that V and Jackie had also taken on a contract when they left?

Leo wasn't particularly worried about their safety. Neither V nor Jackie was the type to recklessly overextend themselves and end up battered. Leo didn't assume that V and Jackie couldn't leave him to handle a mission on his own—after all, that would be truly looking down on them.

They had been born in Night City and were much more accustomed to its rules. Besides, when Leo was helping Padre manufacture technical weapons, he had even set aside materials and parts to upgrade their gear. If any clueless scavengers or gang thugs attacked them, the real worry would be on the opposing side.

Meeting Max's questioning look, Leo said, "My partner has some business to attend to. It looks like it's just the two of us this time."

......

.....

.

The difference between the northern industrial district and the comparatively more prosperous Little Chinatown and Kabuki districts was stark. The roads were narrower, the buildings lower, and traffic was sparse. In particular, the further north one went, the more pronounced the disparity became.

"You looked a bit tense," Leo observed as his gaze shifted downward. "Your hands were trembling—were you cold?"

In the front passenger seat, Max had his hands tucked into his pockets. "Keep your eyes on the road, thanks."

Leo smiled. "Don't worry—I am not a novice. If there had truly been an ambush waiting, my tactical sight's scanning mode would have detected it long before, and I would have turned around and gotten us out safely."

"Not far ahead… Wait, what was that?" Max exclaimed, his eyes widening as he stared upward. Following his gaze, Leo looked up and saw two heavy, jet-black hovercraft slowly ascending from a short distance ahead. Their thrusters emitted a shimmering blue flame as they swiftly propelled the vehicles away. Despite their rapid ascent, both could clearly make out the insignia painted on the hovercraft—the Arasaka Clover!!!

Leo and Max exchanged glances, each reading unmistakable shock in the other's eyes. Max slumped back in the seat as if all his strength had suddenly drained away.