Interdimensional Scientist, Starting from Cyberpunk

[V: Damn, this is freaking awesome! I gotta get one too!]

Even though it was just a text message, Leo could feel V's excitement.

Whoosh—

The hovercar's engine hummed.

Rayfield—the world's most prestigious luxury automobile manufacturer.

They were famous for their top-tier hypercars, the Caliburn and Aerondight "Guinevere", but if there was one model that truly symbolized the owner's superiority, it was the one before them now.

A hovercar—the Rayfield Excalibur.

A fully handcrafted body, an aerodynamic exterior, and a touch of pure wood inlay—exuding the owner's noble status.

Its specially tuned hover engine balanced agility and silence, paired with soundproof construction, leaving noise to the outside world and tranquility to the driver.

Anyone who laid eyes on this beast would be mesmerized—V especially!

To her and Jackie, this was the stuff of legends.

And now, that legend was right in front of them!

The hovercar slowly faded from view, merging into the skyscraper—it was obviously headed for the building's private hovercar docking station.

High-end locations like this were usually equipped with dedicated hovercar parking areas, reserved for those far removed from ordinary people.

Leo patted the two of them, who were standing there, staring in awe, and turned to V.

"See? A hovercar isn't so far away from you now, is it?"

V nodded slowly. "Yeah—I'm getting one!"

"Feeling motivated now? Don't worry, you'll have one."

Jackie rubbed his hands together and followed. "And when you do, can I borrow it for a couple of days? My Mackinaw stands out too much."

Meanwhile...

"You think you can walk away from this unscathed after what you've done?"

Jefferson Peralez spoke into the phone, stepping out of the car under the protection of his bodyguards.

On the other end, the man sounded furious, his voice low and cold.

"The so-called law-abiding Peralez, helping Night City's most wanted criminal—disgusting."

"Say whatever you want, Holt. It doesn't matter—you're never going to be mayor. Just stay in your lane and keep playing the dog."

Jefferson hung up, straightened his clothes, and prepared to enter Embers.

The moment he stepped out, the waiting head of security, Wallace, approached immediately.

Wallace was a highly professional security contractor. Unlike the cybernetically enhanced edgerunners, security professionals like him preferred external armor over excessive cybernetic augmentation.

Too many combat implants could cloud their judgment, so they mostly stuck to essential neuralware like Synaptic Accelerators. High-powered enhancements like Mantis Blades or Gorilla Arms were practically nonexistent among them.

Corporate security relied more on cold logic, logistics, and intel rather than brute force.

A specialized bulletproof vest, a highly reliable rifle, a backup tactical pistol, and a top-tier tactical visor—that was their entire loadout.

Their true power came from the extensive support network behind them.

Still, extreme combat capabilities remained a real threat, which is why they provided security advisories to their clients.

Wallace stepped in front of Jefferson.

"Mr. Peralez, as your head of security, I strongly advise you to cancel this meeting.

The people you are about to meet are extremely dangerous—especially since you chose an offline private suite.

In that environment, your life will be completely in the hands of three outlaws."

Jefferson raised an eyebrow.

"First of all, let's be clear—according to the NCPD's investigation, what they did in the H8 Megabuilding was under contract with the NCPD.

Everyone they killed had a bounty on their heads. So yeah, maybe you have a point—my life will be in their hands.

But strictly speaking, they aren't criminals."

"But what about the Corporate Plaza blackout? The border wall—"

"Enough. For now, there's no bounty on their heads."

The Corporate Plaza blackout had become a cold case, buried beneath increasingly absurd rumors.

And the same militech that first put a bounty on them had suddenly reconciled over the border wall incident, lifting the contract.

The brutal battle at H8 Megabuilding? Despite taking out over 200 people, they had walked away unscathed—thanks to the involvement of multiple factions.

So technically, this infamous mercenary team was clean on paper.

In fact, high-ranking officials had started scrutinizing their record, some even admiring their work.

Jefferson was one of them.

He despised illegal armed groups, especially city gangs and mercs who would sell their services to the highest bidder.

But these three were different.

Efficient. Precise. And—somehow—always on the right side of justice.

At least, his sense of justice.

In the past, Jefferson would never have met with mercs like them.

Wallace pressed further. "At the very least, move the meeting to a suite with network access and additional security."

Jefferson shut him down firmly.

"I'm hiring the most professional mercs in Night City, not some psychopaths. They deserve respect.

And you—your job is to advise me on my security, not control me."

He then smirked.

"Now, as your employer, here's my advice—rather than worrying about them turning on me, you should focus on whether someone else will take advantage of this and send a hit squad after me instead.

If that happens, I might just have to hire them on the spot for extra protection—and if that happens, you'll be out of a job."

Wallace was speechless as he watched Jefferson walk away.

After a moment, he turned and headed toward the staff corridor.

Jefferson would never have taken such a risk before.

He activated a secure channel:

"Attention all units. Despite my reservations, Target Alpha is proceeding with the mercenary contact.

The target may have reasons for this decision, but involving this team in a political campaign could have serious consequences.

This action may be a significant deviation from standard behavioral patterns."

Embers—one of Night City's most luxurious restaurants.

The suite was a blend of light and shadow, with a design that concealed the sources of illumination, creating a seamless ambiance.

The lighting was perfect—bright enough to see the faces of those at the table, yet subtle enough to avoid distraction.

Exotic wood, refined stonework, and exquisite craftsmanship.

And the food—organic ingredients they had never even seen before.

Jackie and V didn't know exactly what was valuable, but everything felt expensive.

Jefferson, of course, caught their reaction immediately.

But what surprised him was Leo's composure.

He chuckled.

"At last, we meet in person. First things first—a toast."

"Why?" Leo asked.

This candidate's mind was... complex.

The best approach when dealing with him was to gauge his reactions as much as possible.

He presented himself as benevolent, but trusting that image blindly could be a fatal mistake.

Jefferson himself might not be a threat.

But those behind him? That was another story.

Jefferson raised his glass.

"To everything you did in H8 Megabuilding. In this city, there's almost no such thing as justice—it's all just business.

But you're different. First, you took on Biotechnica, then the Tyger Claws, and even their NCPD lapdog.

And this last one—I can't say. No solid proof, after all.

Still, whatever the case... You made me believe that maybe, just maybe, those so-called 'Robin Hoods' really do exist.

So this toast is for you—for the truth you uncovered.

For the lives you saved.

And for the light you've brought to this city."