Chapter 3: A New Model

Rogue came through, and in a big way.

For one thing, I can now announce the addition of a new member to my security team. Say hello to the one, the only, Panam Palmer!

Naturally, she wasn't quite as enthusiastic as I was, muttering under her breath the whole time about the 'fucking corpos' and how 'this was the last time with that bitch'. She's good, and pretty too, but most importantly of all, she still retains her connections with the Aldecaldos, who's allegiance I will need as one of the few decent Nomad tribes on the edges of the city. And now, thanks to Rogue, I was one step closer to acquiring it.

More importantly than that however, Rogue has managed to set up a meet with the head of the 6th Street Gang, who was normally someone who shared Silverhand's perspective regarding corpos. So much so in fact, that he'd had the former leader of the gang killed in a coup for cosying up to them. However, it seems the combination of my own reputation and Rogue vouching for me has led to at least a momentary change in their disposition. Needless to say, I was going to have to tread carefully. And that went for more than just Will Gunner. I can't have endeared myself to Rogue by blackmailing her, and whilst I was sure I could patch things up with her later, I was going to have to be extra careful regarding my safety for the foreseeable future. The Queen of the Afterlife was not someone to be fucked with.

It took a few minutes of nervous waiting, Panam muttering under her breath the whole time, but eventually, the door to the place I had chosen for the meet had swung open, and in marched Will Gunner, flanked by two of his henchmen, Sam Carter and Boz, if my memory served me correctly. They were armed to the teeth, and seemed to sporting what looked like cobbled together combat armour. Naturally, it was all adorned with copious amounts of American flag regalia. Seemingly, my reputation took me far, but from the looks of things, not far enough.

The two henchmen went around the room, shutting the windows and checking for hidden doors, and once they were done, they returned back to the main door and flanked the sides, giving themselves an advantage should guns start blazing, not that they would. All of this was done with almost military levels of efficiency, as expected of 6th Street. Will grabbed the chair across the table from me, flipped it around and straddled it as he sat down, his wrists crossed over the top of the backrest, a pistol held in one of his hands, a clear warning, if there ever was one. "So, here I am." His tone was gruff, and carried with it a distinctive edge.

I smiled, in a manner that I hoped seemed non-threatening, and began with my commiserations, "And I do thank you for that. I know it's rare for you to meet with businessmen like me, and that fact that you are speaks volumes. I do thank you for the compliment."

His response was expectedly hostile, "I wasn't complimenting you, you fucking corpo-rat. I was under the impression that you had some biz, and I owe Rogue a favour."

In spite of the insult, I insisted on retaining my manners, "Naturally. Well, let's get down to it, shall we?"

Will looked impatient, "Let's."

"I trust, Mr Gunner, that you are aware of who I am? Of what I do?"

"You think I would be here if I didn't? They call you the 'good' suit, the one corpo in the city with the heart." He levelled an intense stare at me, and for a moment, I felt a spike of anxiety until he broke his gaze away from mine, "Pah! You're just another rat in a suit, only worth the price on his head and not an eddy more. You can't fool me."

I nodded, "Well, lucky for the both of us, I don't want to be worth an eddy more. You see, Mr Gunner, I have a proposal for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. You see, of all the gangs in Night City, yours is the most reasonable. For one, you have this sense of patriotic honour about you." I gestured to the numerous small American flags on his person along the generally military stylings of his clothing, "For another, you tend to restrict your activities to things that are somewhat... palatable. No working with Scavs or paedophiles for you lot. And finally, and most importantly, you're not founded off exploitation. The original 6th Street gang consisted of veterans who were tired of being fucked over and just wanted their neighbourhood to be a safe place to live. You may have somewhat strayed from that original goal over the last few years, but you still hold it to be one of your core aims, don't you?"

Gunner looked suspicious, "Yes..."

I nodded in satisfaction, "Good. You see, I'm planning on making a run for the office of the Mayor in the upcoming election, and I need your help. Though you may despise me for what I am, we are not so different, you and I. We both came from the streets of this city, and we both found ways to lift ourselves above it all. You with your strength of arms, and me with my strength of mind. Together, we can make that original dream happen. We can make 6th Street a good place again."

My tone was imploring, and more than a little fake, but Gunner seemed to be buying in, "What's in it for us? Aside from your bullshit promises, I mean?"

I shrugged, "Money, mostly. And a whole lot more besides, if I manage to win, that is."

He tapped the table with the end of his gun, "Details."

Hook, line and sinker. I had him intrigued, and I knew it, "Well for one thing, once I come into office, I plan on legalising a couple of the less lethal drugs you guys already peddle. Maybe you boys would do best with a shell company granted a temporary distribution monopoly over something like Reefer when I legalize it? In one year, you would make more from that alone than you would from drug sales in the black market from the past ten years combined. And all that with none of the risks that traditionally come from the drug trade in the first place."

Gunner dismissed my question, "They're illegal at the state level. You won't be able to change a damn thing, you fucking liar." Looking enraged at what he perceived to be my lies, he made to get up, "We're done here. If I see you again, I'll kill you."

Though he appeared fearsome when riled, I couldn't afford to let this meeting fall through, and so I gulped down my fear, and cut him off before he could make to do anything drastic, "Ah-h-h-h. I can see why you might think that, but it just isn't the case. Night City is a free city, and whilst most people think that just applies to business, it also means that the city retains a degree of legislative control. I mean, prostitution is illegal in the rest of Southern California, and yet here, in Night City, there's a BD parlour and Dollhouse around every corner, isn't there?" I waved my own statement away, "But ignoring that for the moment, you haven't even considered the other benefits that working for me can bring."

Gunner looked suspicious, but much calmer now. "Carter."

"Yes, boss?"

"Check up on that, would you?"

Carter nodded and his eyes began to glow as he pulled up the net to confirm that what I had just said was true. After a moment, he responded in the affirmative. Gunner grunted in appreciation and continued with the negotiations, "Enlighten me, will you, as to these benefits that you can supposedly provide."

"There are a number of them, but the primary one besides money that I can think of is legitimacy. Right now, 6th Street is just another gang-"

"The hell we are!" Carter was apparently even more of a live wire than his boss, though he was quickly silenced by a stern glare from his superior.

I quirked an eyebrow at the outburst, and yet ploughed on regardless of it, "Sure, you and I know that, but does anyone else? I mean, all the extortion and robbery can't be good for your rep, now can it? If you work for me, you'll have to shut those parts of your business down, but I'd be more than willing to replace it with work of my own. We can turn the 6th Street gang into the 6th Street company, and set an example of how law enforcement should be done."

It was now Gunner's turn to quirk his eyebrow, "What kind of work?"

I shrugged, "Protection and policing, mostly. Unlike most other corpos out there, I'm not exactly armed to the teeth. This whole time, I've been on the defensive, but fighting smart rather than hard does have it's limits. With you on my side, I can change that."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, "It's tempting, to be able to legally stick it to the big corps in the city, but I don't think you could afford us."

Classic deflection. This one was going to hurt me right in my bank account, but it was a sacrifice I was going to have to make, "I may not be the richest in town, but rest assured, gentlemen, that I have a healthy enough business to be able to pay any even semi-reasonable price."

He waved his hand dismissively, "I've seen your balance sheet, I know that. More importantly though, even if I do say yes, which is in no way a guarantee, nobody else in 6th Street will say yes to working for a corpo-rat, even a somewhat reasonable one like yourself."

"Ah-h-h-h, Mr Gunner. You wouldn't be working for me, you'd be working with me."

He let out a bark of laughter, his tone once again gaining some heat to it, "What's the fucking difference? I've worked in corpo forces before, we all have. They chew you up, and once they've broken you down, they spit you out without so much as a by-your-motherfucking-leave."

"The best assurance I can provide, besides my word and values, is partial prepayment. Instead of having you boys give your lives for me, and then fucking you over and paying you scraps for your sacrifice, instead, I'll pay half of whatever price you deem reasonable right now. The rest will be paid after each job is done. That way, even if I do fuck you over later on, which I won't, you'll still have my money."

"And what's to stop me from running away with your money after I've taken it?"

I paused, and mulled my response over. Eventually, I settled upon an appropriate move, one I hoped would garner me some amount of respect with the man, "Tell me, Mr Gunner, did your men have us scanned when you entered the room?"

"Of course."

"Are we armed?"

Gunner turned to level the inquiry at his henchmen, "Boz?"

"Panam is, but the guy, maybe my eyes are goin' wrong, but he looks completely unarmed. No mods or nothing."

I smiled at the look Gunner was sending me from across the table, his face showing a mixture of shock and confusion. I waited a few seconds, allowing him to feel the discomfort, knowing that the idea that someone would willingly make themselves vulnerable would scare him more than someone who was threatening him. Threats, he understood, this, well this was out of his wheelhouse. The smile still on my face, I began to speak, "That's the kind of man I am, Will. I put my money where my mouth is, and I keep my promises. I want to build bridges, not burn them. If you want to take my money and run, there is absolutely nothing stopping you. I won't come after you, though I will never do business with you again. Your rep will doubtlessly take a hit, but nothing more than that."

Will looked amused, "So, you're a gonk, then?"

"Maybe I am, Mr Gunner, but like you, I have a vision for what this city could be, if we all stopped fighting and actually worked on getting things done. Together, I believe we can create a new model for the city, a better, safer, cleaner model. One with less violence, one with opportunity abound, one where places like 6th Street are free from the violent whims of corporations and corrupt police forces alike. If that makes me a gonk, then so be it, so long as we can be gonks together." I leaned in and injected as much hateful intensity into my voice as I possible could, "Let's show those fucks that the dream of the founding fathers and of America writ large isn't dead just yet."

There was a long stretch of silence following my little speech, in which I could see my words were having an impact. Gunner was no Rogue, and the man was a relatively open book as a result. Evidently, his two cronies saw his indecision as well, and were becoming evermore restless as the quiet stretched on. Eager to not become victim to some sort of misunderstanding, I tried to move our negotiations along, "So, Mr Gunner, do we have ourselves an agreement?"

He remained stubborn in his silence for a few more moments, before he responded with a single sharp nod of his head, "We have a deal. If I can sell this to the rest of the gang, I'll send you the deets of what we want over the holo."

I stood from my chair with a broad smile across my face, closing the top button of my suit with my left hand and offering my right hand to shake. He declined the offer, and instead stalked out of the room, his henchmen following him, only Boz lingering a moment to stare at Panam and me. Once they had left, I let out a sigh of relief, the tension slipping away from my form.

Turning around, I saw the look of bewilderment on Panam's face as she stared at the door, and resisted the urge to laugh. I succeeded...mostly. A small snort still escaped, and Panam, now broken out of her bewilderment, levelled a fiery glare in my direction, "Just what... who the hell are you?!"

This time, I did laugh at her frustrated confusion, relishing the victory for what it was, "Whatever do you mean?"

"You got 6th Street, fucking 6th Street, to play ball. And they hate corpos like you even more than I do!"

I simply chuckled and tapped my nose knowingly, refusing to answer, knowing the lack of one would annoy the living hell out of her. After a moment of expectant silence, she realised what I was doing, growled and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Thoroughly enjoying her frustration, I couldn't resist a parting shot as she left, "See you Monday, dear employee!"

I heard her growl once again and punch the wall as she was walking by, and chuckled to myself. Once she was well and truly gone, and the mirth of the moment had passed, I took stock of my situation.

Assuming 6th Street accepted my offer, I was now in prime position to make my momentous announcement. With a sizeable force of well-trained, well-organised veterans at my beck and call, I had so many more options available to me. I didn't have to toe the line anymore; I could finally afford to step over it and level the playing field.

Biotechnica better watch it's fucking back, because the moment I got the chance, I was going to start tearing strips out of their hide.

But old grudges aside, this changed the balance-of-power in the city significantly. If 6th Street sided with me, then they were going to have to clean up their act. Inevitably, the other gangs would sense weakness and start muscling in on their turf. Naturally, this will require a significant show of force to ward them off, or maybe I'll have to cut a deal with them. It would certainly be interesting, negotiating with the Animals and Maelstrom, especially given the charismatic nature of their leaders in-game, though I wasn't going to touch the Voodoo Boys with a ten-fucking-foot pole. I remember the shit they pulled in-game, as well as their feud with NetWatch, both of which were bad news for me.

The Aldecaldo's were a given, I was going to have to find a way to get them to fall in line at some point, even if only to protect my business interests in the Badlands, though I was aware that I was going to have to find a way to break up their deal with Biotechnica before I made the attempt. Still, Saul seemed like a reasonable enough guy in the game, and I have no doubt I can cook something up, especially as Panam was likely on her way to ask him about me right now.

Choices, choices and even more choices...

For once in my life in this world, all the pieces on the board all seemed to be falling into place. I wasn't the underdog anymore, and what a wonderous feeling that was. Regardless, I knew a moment of complacency could kill me, especially as it seemed that I was the only person in the world without any cybernetics, and so something as pedestrian as a simple bullet to the head would be enough to end me permanently. I may have been in a videogame world, but I certainly didn't have the survivability of a videogame character.

If, on the other hand, 6th Street didn't accept my offer...

There really was nothing for it. Without the firepower to protect myself from anyone wanting me out of the race, which was likely a lot of people, I wouldn't last the week. Fucking with the food supply was one thing, but I can't imagine for a second either Arasaka or Militech would just let a man like me rise to power. My best hope in that case would simply be to throw my weight behind Peralez and ensure that he remained himself. Assuming I couldn't stop the corruption from whatever it was messing with his head, which was likely, my next-best bet would be to focus on expanding my business, and to keep making life better the same way I already had been. Bide my time, build up my resources even further, hire a proper army, and then make another run at power when the opportunity presented itself. However, I had already burnt my bridges with Rogue, and with her gunning for my head, which she would be for the foreseeable future, I didn't fancy my chances lasting that long. I needed at least part of the story events to play out to be able to mend that relationship to the point where she won't want to kill me anymore.

Here's hoping Gunner comes through...

So, our protagonist has made his first move to build his powerbase! Will his gamble pay off, or will his house of cards come tumbling down?

I own nothing of Cyberpunk, only the MC is mine.

Any omakes, spinoffs and parodies are welcome. It's a fanfic guys, go nuts.

As always, all comments are welcome.

Hope you guys enjoy!