Chapter 3

It was still lightly raining when Ward pulled the truck into the Cherry Blossom Market in Japantown. The market was covered by a glass pitched roof and lit by strings of Chinese lanterns hanging from the support beams. It was packed with various vendors for food, collectibles, and electronics, and I could even see a joytoy displaying himself in a shiny tank top and thong. There was always something for everyone in Japantown.

"So, who're we supposed to talk to?" I asked before getting out of the truck. "Cyberpsycho's boss, you said?"

"Christine Markov, forty-two," Ward replied as he shut off the engine. "File has her as Horváth's sole employer. Sole contact, too, actually."

I looked at the market. "He worked here? The guy who can afford all the chrome he was decked out in should have the scratch for psychomuting meds, too. I don't think he could've afforded either by working at a food stall."

He shrugged. "Don't know 'till we ask. A good ninety percent of any detective's job is talking."

"What's the other ten percent?" I asked as I stepped out of the truck.

"Writing reports," he admitted blandly before getting out and walking towards the market. "C'mon, V."

I followed him into the market we looked for Christine's table. I nudged him when I thought I spotted her working a small electronics stall. The middle-aged woman was hunched over a small radio that she was repairing, while a few other small appliances and TVs were on display.

I leaned against the counter. "You Christine Markov? We have some questions."

Without looking up, she continued working on the radio and simply asked, "You badges?" Her voice was mousy and didn't sound like that of a Night City native.

I glanced over to Ward, who gave me a quick shake of his head. "Lookin' for info on Péter Horváth. Worked here, apparently."

She finally looked up at us with an annoyed frown and squeezed the handle of her screwdriver. "Yeah, he did. Then he stopped workin', started makin' fuckin' speeches all the time."

"These, uh, speeches," I began, "what'd he have to say?"

She scoffed. "Heh. 'Rhyne – corps got him by the balls and cock, but he still managed to fuck me!' It was his motto."

Ward asked, "Why'd he have it in for the mayor?"

"Hah!" she laughed at him. "Lookin' for reason in that whackjob? He thought Rhyne was talkin' to him through the TV, promisin' all sorts of shit, then ceasin' to give a fuck. In Horváth's world, everybody was out to get him. Lucius Rhyne was out to fuck him, then get him."

I nodded. "So as Horváth saw it, who else had it in for him?"

She shrugged as she laughed at the recollection. "'Sides Rhyne? Uh, Madame President, mostly. Then Arasaka, the geezer, and when he died it was his son's turn."

Ward kept his eye on me, ushering me to keep asking questions.

"When did the weird behavior actually start?" I asked.

"Look, when you're talkin' about Péter, 'weird' doesn't mean what it means for everybody else. Horváth was never completely normal. But the post-jail Horváth versus the pre-jail Horváth? Gonks, both, but completely different gonks."

"Did he make good scratch here?" I continued. "Coulda bought this whole market with the chrome he was packin'."

She cackled and hooted sarcastically, "Haha! Oh yeah, made scads on scads here, hehe. Motherfuckin' millionaire, like we all are."

Ward finally tapped in, "So where'd he get the eddies? Know anything?"

"Look, if I knew, I wouldn't be here sellin' scop to tower trash," she replied with a wave of her screwdriver. "I'd get myself an AV and fly my fuckin' slim ass outta here. Péter showed up one day with all that. Extra worked up too. Whacked enough that I asked him where he got it. He said somebody'd finally seen what he was worth. Then he launched right into one of his tirades. Now will that be all, detectives? You're spookin' my clee-un-tell," she added with a failed attempt to sound pretentious.

Ward nodded and faced me while leaning back against the counter. "'Somebody'd finally seen what he was worth.' Horváth had sponsors."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "We mighta guessed as much."

"Might seem like we didn't get a lot out of that, but sometimes intel makes sense once you got some context," he reasoned. "'He thought Rhyne was talking to him through the TV.' Pirate TV networks are all around Night City. He could've tuned to one of them and caught a tampered broadcast, someone making it look like he said something different at a press conference."

I nodded as I considered it. "Between that and the sponsors, there'd be some kind of evidence at his place of what was going on."

He smirked at me before starting to walk towards the market's exit. "Very good. Good questions back there, too. You know how to investigate."

"I have to," I replied as I followed. "We once rescued a client who was kidnapped by Scavs. She had Trauma Team Platinum Coverage, but they couldn't locate her. If we hadn't scanned her and removed the infected shard that jammed her tracker, she would've died."

"'We?'" he asked, glancing back.

I gulped, not realizing that I brought up Jackie after having been successfully distracted by the job for the whole morning. "My, uh… My old partner. Died a few weeks ago. Been running solo since."

"I see. Sorry to hear that," he mumbled. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you'd make a good officer."

I don't think I blushed, but I was definitely not used to getting compliments on something other than a job well done. Johnny, on the other hand, knew just what to do with them when he appeared walking beside me.

"Fuck his sympathy, V, and fuck him if you have to, but if you become a cop while I'm still in your head, I will make sure we dive in front of a bus."

I rolled my eyes and grumbled, "Fuck yourself, Johnny. He was just bein' nice. And besides, you're the one who told me to keep working with him."

"Yeah, working," he spat. "Stop ogling him like some fuckin' schoolgirl and hurry this up."

I waved him off, though I quickly glanced ahead to make sure that Ward wasn't looking back at me. He was looking ahead where it looked like two Tyger Claws were sizing up his truck.

"Oh great," he groaned. "Lemme handle this, V."

One of the gangers nodded to me while looking at Ward. "What's up, piglet? Got yourself a new choom?" he asked in Japanese.

"Step aside, Lugg," Ward ordered. "Your boyfriend got sent up for years. Doubt you want the same."

The other man shook his head. "Oh, no, no. Your new choom's gonna see what happens to piglets that don't get it. You refused to deal. You still owe us."

I kept my Sandevistan primed and my hands free in case the Claws drew any weapons, but I kept watch on Ward, who seemed unmoved.

Ward chuckled and nodded. "Right. You did lose your only associate who could string two sentences together. Too bad he also liked diddling little kids. Here's my offer – get the fuck outta here, and I won't arrest you as accessories in the murder of Mayor Rhyne."

The ganger snarled and raised his middle finger to him. "We'll let it go this time, Ward. But this time's the last time."

The other ganger started to storm off, but called back, "And wash your fucking wheels, pig!"

With the two of them sauntering away, I took a breath and walked over to Ward, who appeared to relax. "Walkin' the streets with you – downright unsafe. You got a beef with all gangs or just the Tygers?"

He crossed his arms and smiled proudly. "I'm a cop. Whaddaya think?"

I smiled too, kinda liking his cocky attitude backed up by actually strong-arming some gangoons. "A better cop than I'd be. I nearly drew my gun."

He looked down at the ground, still smiling, then looked back at me. "Good thing nobody got killed. Little less paperwork. Let's get over to Horváth's apartment. It's nearby."

I looked over at his truck. "Sure you shouldn't move that thing? It's a sitting duck waiting for those Claws to change their minds."

"They won't, trust me," he assured. "Let's go."

We walked a couple of blocks over to a cluster of apartment buildings around Jig-Jig Street. At only a few stories tall, they looked dilapidated and forgotten outside of the glow of Jig-Jig Street and under the shadow of Megabuilding H8. The closest thing to a building manager was a dirty terminal screen secured behind metal bars, and the doorway to the stairs was locked with an old basic sensor. Ward waved his badge over the sensor, which took a noticeable moment to process and unlock the door, then we proceeded up the stairs to Horváth's apartment. The hallways and stairwells were even filthier than the outside of the building. The crumbling walls were coated with chipped and worn graffiti, insects feasted on the rotten waste in the hallways, and used air-hypos and inhalers were mixed in with the rubble of broken floor tiles. All-in-all, it was what I expected, and smelled no different than the rest of Night City.

Horváth's rectangular apartment consisted of a shabby old mattress on the floor, a small table with a single chair, and an old, cracked TV placed on top of a microwave. The bathroom looked more like a closet with a toilet and a showerhead. Empty food cartons, crushed soda cans, cut pieces of paper, and empty bottles of various cheap alcohol littered the floor. But what drew our interest was what was on the walls. The wall facing the hallway was completely covered in political posters supporting Mayor Rhyne, but every one of them bore deep slashes that even tore small chunks of concrete from the walls. Over some of the posters, the word "RHYNE" was spray-painted in large black letters, each of them equally as sliced as the posters beneath.

"Jesus," Ward breathed. "Looks like he was trying out his new toys before he went after Rhyne."

I nodded. "If someone was really investing in him, he'd have been set up in a better place than this. He was never supposed to walk away from that hit." I quickly scanned around the apartment while Ward continued towards the bathroom. When I checked the TV, there was nothing plugged into it. "The antenna's missing," I called out.

"The antenna?" he asked from the bathroom.

"Yeah. Old TVs like this use an antenna instead of a cable or data feed. Probably something he built or repaired himself."

"Yeah, well check this out," he replied in a suspicious tone.

I stepped over to the door to the bathroom and looked inside. It seemed as dirty as the rest of the apartment except for the mirror, which looked almost new in contrast.

He continued, "I doubt the building manager replaced this and didn't fix the walls." He felt his way around the mirror, then pulled it off its mount.

I scanned the wall behind it and found a patch of new paint and instant concrete covering a small circular hole. "There's a hole here that was just covered up. Maybe he shot a hole through the old mirror and got a new one?"

He shrugged and hung the mirror back up. "Maybe, but it doesn't point us to any sponsor. Nothing else here, no papers or receipts. Let's get outta here."

I followed him out without any complaint. When we reached the sidewalk, he took a quick look around, then looked back to me.

"I'll talk to my CI about your club – Red Queen's Race. Assuming you're still on board?" he asked with a calculating glance.

I couldn't help but smile. I was curious, I had the time, and it was the Peralezes' money. "You kiddin'? I'm in."

"Good," he smirked. "I'll call you when I have something." He turned and started walking back towards the market.

"Hey, Ward," I accidentally blurted out with an annoyed tone. "Don't think you're shaking me that easy. I'm coming with."

He narrowed his eyes and looked me up and down. "River," he simply replied.

"Huh?" I stared blankly.

"My name. River," he clarified and started walking backwards. "You coming?"

I rushed a few steps forward to catch up with him as we walked back to the truck, and I had to forcibly try not to smile as I thought, 'River…'

River's contact pointed us to a warehouse on the border between Westbrook and Santo Domingo, just near enough to the edge of the city for a politician to duck away from the cameras for a while. I wasn't about to hit a warehouse with only my pistol and katana, so River drove me to my car, and I followed him down to the site. The warehouse was just off the main road, and most access required cars to cross a two-lane bridge over the empty spillway. It was surrounded by tall fences and had a barred entrance with a manned security booth for access. We timed our arrival for after dark and parked across the bridge under a nearby overpass to keep our cars out of sight. It took barely a full second of me stepping out of my car before I recognized who was running the place.

"This is Animal turf," I cautioned him.

He scoffed and leaned against his truck. "I can see that…"

I shook my head and popped the trunk of my car. "Lock up any of theirs recently?"

"Not lately, no," he grumbled frustratedly. "But they're not big fans of 'pigs,' either. I can't go in without a warrant, but you…" he paused and gestured to me.

"Uh-huh," I replied knowingly with a roll of my eyes. "Alright, hang on." I opened my trunk and quickly glanced over my choice of weapons, but I heard a whistling exhale from behind me that grabbed my attention. I looked back just in time to catch River staring before he looked away. "What?"

"You, uh..." he stammered. "You like your guns."

I huffed dryly as I turned back. "So do the people that shoot at me. Most of these are from jobs I've completed, and I just haven't gotten around to selling them yet." I withdrew a small suppressor and spun it onto my Dying Night pistol.

"I get it, not trying to judge," he quickly added. "If anything, I feel a little better about sending you in since it looks like you know what you're doing."

I nodded confidently as I loaded a Saratoga SMG and slipped it into place next to my Katana along with a few spare magazines. I closed the trunk and we walked over to the bridge, but River stopped under one of the streetlights next to the railing.

"You find anything, tell me," he ordered with a frustrated tone.

I turned to look at him. "What's up?"

"Huh?"

"You sound pissed," I replied.

"I'm fine. I'll just be here… waiting," he grumbled.

I nodded understandingly, then opened an audio channel to his comms. "Be in touch."

I started my approach across the bridge, casually walking as I couldn't hide from the overhead lights. The rain had stopped, but the air was filled with the scent of wet concrete and asphalt. As I walked, I scanned the outside and the security booth, finding both the nearest cameras as well as the guard manning the booth. Once I was in a dark spot between two streetlights, I ducked over to one of the side walls lined with concrete and a tall metal fence. I grumbled to myself about needing to afford Reinforced Tendons so that I'd be able to jump over the fence, but it didn't matter at the moment. I skirted around the perimeter until I found a small gate and hacked its lock to get me inside. Keeping against the wall and out of view of any cameras, I snuck around back and found a door near a bodybuilder on a smoke break. I dropped him with a quiet shot from my pistol, then slowly dragged his body inside.

In the back room were some supplies that I would've expected to see, but nothing yet to indicate the presence of a fancy club. I whispered into my comms, "Looks like a normal body shop to me."

"Club's here," River assured. "I'm tellin' ya."

"Tellin' me you got a hunch?" I asked smartly. "Cop intuition?"

"Somethin' like that," he replied sternly.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, then I slipped through another door leading into the main area of the warehouse. There were several large shipping containers stacked in the center of the room, as well as dozens of crates stacked in clusters with nearby forklifts to move them. I spotted the office on the second floor and a set of stairs to my left, but there were two guards nearby that would've seen me if I tried to go up. I marked them both with my Kiroshi's, then I quickly zeroed them with single shots from behind. I dragged them both to an empty storage crate just to make sure their bodies wouldn't be easily found, then I crept upstairs to the office. One heavily built guy in a suit worriedly paced in the office, but I slid in, grabbed him from behind, and snapped his neck with a sharp twist.

I spotted a computer in the office and used it to check the local cameras. As I cycled through looking for any bodies I left or keeping tabs on the patrols outside, I found one camera that showed what looked like a roughed-up nightclub. I hummed in grateful surprise and looked around the camera's view, then looked through the office windows at the main floor below. One of the yellow storage containers opened its doors from inside, and three bulky men walked out and started looking around for the two guards I had already dispatched. I made note of the storage container, then I walked out to the second floor's railing. I watched as the three men spread out, but then I had an idea. I holstered my pistol and unsheathed my katana, then jumped over the railing. Once I hit the center of the floor between all three guards, I triggered my Sandevistan implant.

Time slowed down, though of course I knew it was just my brain speeding up. My vision blurred as I darted to my first target, ending him quickly with a swift spin of my blade, then over to my second and third, each only emitting the slightest of sounds as their spines were severed. All three were dead before the first drop of blood hit the floor, and I promptly surveyed the scene once my implant switched off and my perception returned to normal. There was no way I'd be able to hide the bloody mess, but the katana was a better option than risking a bullet bouncing off a heavily armored skull. I made my way outside again and dealt with the less-modified guards on patrol, each with a silent bullet, then made my way back to the container without any alarm being raised. I found the yellow container and opened the door, shocked to find that it was actually bonded to the floor and hid a flight of stairs down.

"Stairs inside," I hummed into the comms. "Clever."

At the bottom of the stairs was an elevator which then took me four floors below ground. I made my way very slowly out of the elevator into a more club-like foyer. Through a set of glass double doors ahead, I saw furniture that had been knocked over, broken glass, and strewn papers that matched the footage I had seen upstairs.

"Nice," I continued to River through the comms. "Someone really wanted to cover up... whatever it was that went down. What should we be lookin' for?"

He suggested, "Let's try to find something that looks like an office. Every club has one."

There was a small desk which looked like it was where people would check in upon entry to the club. I peered through a window facing out into the club floor, and there were two more guards that had come out and were stationed behind the bar on the far side of the floor. I figured they either saw the elevator come down, or they were on alert after not hearing from someone upstairs. I quietly swore to myself and unstrapped my SMG, then took cover behind the wall. My Sandevistan had not yet fully charged, so I had to go in the way Jackie used to – guns blazing.

I smashed the butt of the SMG into the glass window, then threw myself over and into the next room while spraying bullets across the bar. I knew I killed one person and hit the other, but I heard gunfire and shouting as I reloaded behind one of the club booths. I heard someone coming down a set of stairs on the far end, as well as gunfire from a landing above the main floor. I dove out and unleashed another volley at the bar, zeroing the already injured gangoon, then I whipped out my pistol and sent a small burst up towards the upstairs guard's head. Just before looking away from the pistol's scope, something large and heavy slammed into my chest and threw me against a nearby wall, where I slid down to the floor.

I groaned as the wind was knocked out of me, but I saw a heavily muscled Animal wielding a large hammer rush towards me to finish me off. I quickly rolled away as the hammer bashed into the floor, nearly knocking the gangoon off balance. I quickly scanned the person, and ID-ed her as Hun Laouali, one of the Animals' bosses for this area of NC. Her enhanced muscular arms were bigger than my head, and she looked like a raging bull ready to charge. I tried searching for my gun, but it had been knocked out of my hand when I was hit. Laouali sped towards me again, but my Sandevistan was ready. At the last second, I triggered the implant, stepped out of the way of her hammer's swing, unsheathed my katana, and sliced her right arm off in the same motion.

Her bloodcurdling wails filled the room as she crumbled to the floor. I looked around for my gun and retrieved it while I waited for my implant to switch off. I came back and watched as she writhed on the floor, but with her other arm and her clearly modified legs still in fighting condition, I kept my distance. I reached down to my belt and tossed her a Bounce Back MK. 2 air-hypo. She caught it and looked at me hesitantly through gritted teeth and murderous eyes, then jammed it into her shoulder and squeezed. She coughed and groaned as the wound began to cauterize itself, the bleeding gradually slowing to a halt. I kept my pistol drawn and ready, but I gave her a moment to heal. She looked at me like she would still murder me if she could, but for the moment, she seemed to stand down.

"Lucius Rhyne," I called to her. "Recently deceased mayor of Night City. He was here the night he died, wasn't he?"

She snarled, "Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. No fuckin' idea. But hey, you might be here the day you die, heh." She noticed the barrel of my gun rise to point towards her. "Jus… Just jokin', heh."

I shook my head. "Why you watchin' this dump? Nothin' left to klep here."

"We ain't watchin' it!" she spat as a shiver of pain shot through her. "We're fuckin' waitin'!"

"For what?"

"'Till they send us the scratch for a job well done. Smashed it up pretty fuckin' good, didn't we?" she asked proudly. "We done our bit, time for the payup."

I looked around and nodded at the state of the place. "Who'd you smash it up for?"

She coughed and gripped her shoulder. "Argh… What's it to you?!"

"I think I know who it is. Same gonk burned me," I lied. "Anyway, diggin' for dirt on 'im. I get him, you'll get what you're owed. Just gotta know we're talkin' about the same assmunch."

She huffed, then growled. "Weldon Holt."

I sighed exhaustedly, but I kept my guard and gun up. "Lucius Rhyne's right-hand bull terrier. Candidate for mayor in the upcoming election."

"Right fuckhead for the job," she replied, her teeth still gritted.

"Thanks for the help," I replied like she'd just helped me select something from a store. Despite having just cut off her arm, I knew that with the right meds and with the Bounce Back I gave her, she'd live to get to a ripperdoc and get an arm stronger than what she had before. I wasn't worried about her trying to stab me in the back while I looked around the rest of the club, and I wasn't about to kill her if she was both out of my way and helpless.

I checked out the rest of the club and found no one left standing, but I found the office River was looking for, and it was just as smashed up as the rest of the place. "Looks like an office," I reported. "Sort of…"

"Comps are what we want," he replied urgently. "Comps above all."

I logged into the computer and first went through the messages. At first, I didn't find anything suspicious, but then on the day the mayor was attacked, there were emails from Weldon Holt to someone named Francis Delgato, whom I assumed ran the club. The emails detailed Holt's initial request for Mayor Rhyne to have a private room and to not be disturbed, then Delgato's panicked response to finding the mayor dead despite no one having entered his room. The final message appeared to be from the Animals boss to Holt demanding payment for their services.

I then looked in the computer's files and found a security recording archived. The video was from a camera just outside Rhyne's room, with one figure walking in front of the door while speaking on a call with someone else. As the figure turned, I recognized the face and the voice as Detective Han, River's partner. I checked to make sure the comms channel was still open. "River… I found some footage – you're gonna wanna see this. Sending it your way. Your choom covered up the true circumstances of Rhyne's death."

"'My choom?'" he asked condescendingly. "I- Wait… you mean Han? Let me see."

I restarted the footage and uploaded it to him. I could hear it play over the holo.

"Yep, stiff as a board. You ask me, he's been dead at least an hour," Han reported in the video. "No, no Trauma card. Pretty sure he didn't bring it on purpose. Club like this, you don't want TT bangin' down the door when you're bangin' away and things start to heat up… Heart probably. Musta gotten a little too heavy an' messy… OK… Yeah, let's do that. Coroner will find him at home. I'll tell him how to write it up. 'Died in his sleep, quiet as a baby.' Boys are getting him outta here. 'Course nobody'll see 'em. No way… Yep… Yes… Alright, I'll buzz you later."

I waited until it was over, then asked, "You didn't know? Not a thing?"

"Shit," he breathed. "No, no it can't… Get out of there, V. I'm gonna ping him, tell him to meet at Chubby Buffalo's. And we're goin' straight there."

"OK, hang on. Be there in a sec," I replied. I gathered a few of the higher-value weapons that I noticed, then found some back stairs leading out of the club office and up through another storage container outside. I grumbled to myself that it would've been nice to know the back door was there before and saved myself a lot of trouble, but I figured I'd at least get a couple thousand eddies for the guns I found and was able to carry out. I walked back out of the warehouse grounds and across the bridge, and River was already in his truck parked under the overpass. I quickly dropped the newly acquired weapons into my trunk, then got into his truck. The door barely closed before he gunned the engine.

It was after midnight by the time we got back to Chubby Buffalo's. River didn't say a word the entire drive, nor did I want to make him. There was only one time when Jackie and I ever wanted different things out of a job or our careers as mercs, but I quickly shut that train of thought out of my mind. I learned from bitter experience not to think about those times, especially when I wasn't alone. I didn't envy River for what he was about to experience, but it was no secret that Night City beats you up in one way or another. Detectives were no exception. Han stood leaning against his car while smoking a cigarette while we pulled into a parking spot.

River breathed tensely as he sat for a moment. "Fuck…" he whispered, then took a deep breath and exited the truck.

I followed suit and stepped out of the truck. I kept a bit of distance as River firmly stood a couple of meters away from Han, arms crossed and eyes on fire. Han took another drag of his cigarette while repeating his sneer at me, then looked back at River.

"Still hangin' around with this punk?" he asked scornfully.

"Shut it, Harold," River growled. "I know what you did. Not about to ask why you covered it up. Not even why you jumped into this mess to begin with. Just wanna know – who gave you the order?"

Han waved him off. "What's it matter, River? Why d'you even care? Your conscience is clear, you can sleep tight at night. You know why? 'Cause I took all the responsibility. You got no idea how this city works. Think your goddamn inspirational, idealist bullshit actually means something? It doesn't, never did."

As if on cue, there it was. I had to wonder how River had gone so long without ever hearing this either from Han or another officer. His innocence was being broken right in front of me, and it made me feel sad to see it happen to someone who cared, but I always knew it'd only be a matter of time. Silence fell over the three of us. I looked from Han to River, then back to Han to see if he'd add anything else, but he only defended himself further.

"Hey, don't look at me that way, merc. You know I'm right," he added unapologetically.

"Please," I scoffed. "I know this town inside out."

"So, you know how it works," he countered. "At city hall, in the street – rules are the same. Rhyne knew it too. He fought for this city, cleanly at times, dirty at others, but always with a lotta heart. Wouldn't have wanted him to get dragged through the muck."

"V-" River interrupted, clearly containing his anger but trying not to unleash it on me. "'Preciate the help, but this isn't your biz. I'll take care of it."

Han chuckled. "How you gonna do that? Am I under arrest?"

"Got a scroll, got a motive, got your confession," River counted with venom dripping through each word to the man. "So yeah, you could be. But it wouldn't make much sense. You don't even gotta say who ordered you to go and clean up. I know anyway." He started pacing. "So, since even our brass' fingers are all over this, I gotta take it to Internal."

"They won't do a thing either," Han reasoned calmly. "Not to me. They'll put you in their sights though." He tossed his cigarette in front of Ward, then causally strolled around his car to the driver's side. "Just go home, Ward. Get some sleep. Find all this easer to take in the morning. I mean, that's my plan."

River stood fuming as Han drove away without a care. "Fuck," he growled to himself again, then he stormed over to the concrete barrier overlooking the river.

I could tell his mind was racing as I walked over to the barrier. I kept enough distance such that I wasn't in his way but that he wouldn't forget I was there. I let him stew in his thoughts for a couple of minutes, but I needed to know what my next move would be. "So, what now?" I asked.

"Won't let this go," he grumbled. "Can't. Holt murdered Rhyne. Wanted his seat. Oldest, tritest motive in the book. That's why I believe it. Used the NCPD to cover his tracks."

"Same," I agreed. "Holt's the only one who stood to gain."

He turned around and faced me with his arms crossed. "I'm taking this to internal affairs. Got enough to get this case reopened."

I sighed worriedly. The man got on my nerves and he was getting himself burned by Night City, but I didn't want to let him make things worse for himself. "River… look, you may not want to hear this from me, but I don't think you should do it. They'll sack you, or worse, and it won't change a thing."

His lip curled in a frustrated snarl as he glared at me. "Could be right, you and Han. But I couldn't give a shit what you two think."

"Look, you're a good cop," I argued. "And you actually care. You don't see that much, and that's worth something in NC. Don't ruin it just to take a shot at Holt. Guys like him and Han are only out for themselves."

"That's rich, coming from you," he spat.

If I hadn't known he was hurting from his first major experience at Night City crushing his hopes, I would've punched him right his implanted eye. I even clenched my fists and shot him a threatening look, but I began walking away instead of committing a felony.

"V…" he called sheepishly. "I'm sorry. That… you didn't deserve that. Just… Han…"

I took a breath and turned partly around to look at him. He frowned and huffed angrily to the ground, but when he looked back at me, his face appeared apologetic.

"It's not your fault," he continued. "I'm sorry. Thank you. For everything."

I nodded. I learned not to forgive too quickly, but I rarely had to as I rarely received apologies. I couldn't blame him for snapping at me a bit, though I had hoped to see him take more of his anger out on Han.

"What about you?" he asked. "You gonna report back to the Peralezes?"

"Yup, might wait 'till morning, though. A bit late now." I replied plainly.

The corner of his mouth twitched up like he would've smiled. "OK. I'm gonna stay, observe a little. Thanks again, V."

He turned around and looked over the river towards the highway and some of the towers in Santo Domingo. I let him be and turned back to the road where I called up my Caliburn. It was late, I was exhausted, and all of my curiosities for the day were satisfied, so I wanted nothing more than to go home and pass out. But just as I got in the car, my holo started ringing with a call from Judy.

"Hey, Judy," I grunted, moaning happily as I relaxed into the car's bucket seat. "What's up?"

"V…" her voice sounded broken, even with just the one syllable. "Can you come over, stat?"

"Somethin' happen?" I asked hesitantly, my gut starting to drop.

"Yeah… It's Ev. Please, just come quick."

Tired as I was, I wasn't about to ignore my best friend. I slammed the pedal down and sped up the highway.