The Hella EC-D was parked exactly where he had left it. Panam had at least been nice enough to take him to his ride, which was where they had first met.

There was still a silence between the two of us, founded on my actions in the last handful of hours.

Panam was processing, taking her time to think out about how she felt.

She wasn't sneaking glances at me anymore, instead just looking to the horizon in front of her, expression shifting every few minutes.

It was like she was having a conversation with herself…. Probably because she knew by now that I wouldn't.

The car came to a stop, Panam gently squeezing on the breaks.

As soon as the vehicle was still, I popped the door and stepped out, giving her my "thank you" as I exited.

I'd gotten within a foot of my car when I heard the drivers door of the Warhorse pop open.

"I wanted to shoot him," Panam eventually said to me.

'But you didn't, did you?'

"I know" I replied, going around to the back of my car and popping the trunk.

As I started to stow my clothing and supplies, opting for a new jacket and gear, the nomad had gotten out of her car and approached me.

"Something…" she shook her head, dismissing whatever she was about to say, before looking at me and deciding on "I couldn't"

I stare back at her, but think to myself, 'you could. You just didn't want to'

She was watching me change and rearm. She was standing by the driver's side door, leaning slightly against my vehicle.

"Emotion, at times, can be fantastic armor" I mumble, zipping up my new coat. Looking to my phone, I began crafting the message to Rogue, explaining to her all the materials used today.

Hopefully I'd be compensated for the anti-personnel grenades. Those weren't cheap.

"I'm starting to think that you're a robot"

I blinked, before looking back at Panam with a raised eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Well firstly, you don't fucking miss" she shook her head a bit, some of her more recent memories being evidence of her statement, "secondly you really don't care, and thirdly… if you haven't noticed, you can barely hold a conversation"

'For the love of god…'

"Because right now, and back then, I was working" I grunt, which is a perfectly reasonable answer. If all the people of Night City focused when they worked, I wager the city would be less of a shit hole. It doesn't even matter what job it is!

I'm the same as a mechanic, or a construction worker, or an artist. You tell me my task, you give me my timeline, and I'll execute it.

If you can't do the job, don't take it.

But no, human's just have to be stupid and greedy.

I slam the boot closed.

"I'm not being paid to miss, care or speak to you" I roll the cuffs of my jacket, "when I'm on the job, I do my job, like anyone else should"

Panam took a second, before she shook her head, "bullshit. I know people like you, the ones that just can't just switch off. There is no, 'off the job' time for your type"

Even though I am taller than her, she's looking down at me. She's all smug now that she's 'figured me out'. I can see it on her face, and the light curl of her grin.

'What the fuck is this conversation' I have to ask myself, because Panam is the emotional equivalent of a rollercoaster.

"You don't know me" I walked up to her, and as politely as I could, gestured to my car door.

I believe the 'move, please' is implied.

She doesn't move.

"I think I do" she smirked up at me, watching my face, "you're fucking crazy-"

"I'm not"

"-but not like a cyberpsycho. You're a product of Night City, that's for certain"

Now that's far closer to the truth than she'll ever realise.

"Are you going anywhere with this?"

She finally stepped back from the door. Without hesitating or even a look toward her, I opened it.

"The next time you find yourself, 'off the job', call me" Panam called over her shoulder, walking back to her car, "I can have a drink and you can prove to me your human"

I frown, "and who said your approval means anything to me?"

She didn't reply. Panam just got in her car, and drove off into the night.

I watched the Warhorse disappear over the horizon.

Why couldn't she have just shot at me? That would have been much easier to deal with.

"Nomads" I grunt, sliding into the driver's seat.

I was going home.

Needed some sleep.

The shadows of the morning were beginning to recede. Darkness no longer kept him shrouded.

Tom's diner had only seen a minimal amount of activity in the last four hours. Takemura had watched the establishment open for business with a keen eye. It seemed like any other day. The ex-Arasaka bodyguard couldn't be sure this all wasn't an elaborate trap that had been set for him….

But between the old and slow men who took out the trash, the young female that had pulled up late, only to be chewed out by the man Goro presumed was Tom…

This was no trap.

He disconnected from the camera view of Tom's, stepping out from the alleyway. Takemura planned to be at the meet earlier than the Thief, merely to test the man's word.

The streets of Night City were beginning to fill, the daily customers to the Diner were filling in. As he got closer and closer, he began to smell the greasy American cooking, coffee roast-

Someone was beside him.

"I'm assuming you're Takemura"

The man standing next to him was wearing a high collar jacket, his gaze focused toward the Diner. Takemura couldn't see his hands, but he assumed they were on a weapon of some kind.

"You are V" the disgraced bodyguard replied.

The man nodded.

Goro and the Thief were still walking toward Tom's, but Takemura was focused on the man next to him.

He was quiet. Very quiet. He demonstrated a proficiency in stealth that explained the path he had chosen.

They stood at equal heights as well, perhaps with Takemura being an inch or two taller.

By the time they reached the door, Goro had concluded every location that this 'V' could have a weapon.

The Merc opened the door, gesturing inside.

How strange for such a detestable individual to possess any kind of refined manner.

Takemura nodded in thanks.

He made a beeline for an empty both, the closest to the door and with a secluded view of the street. Plenty of escape options, and good overview.

As he sat, V sat across from him.

"Nice choice" the Thief commented.

Before Takemura could respond, a bald man in an apron with a hand cloth slung over his shoulder approached the table.

Goro assumed he was the owner.

"Shit V, finally come down from the major leagues to hang with us regular joe's huh?"

"Gotta let you and Michael know I'm still kicking" V joked back, a hand on the menu but his eyes on the bald man.

The man's expression turned sour.

"Heard about Jackie" he started, but stopped when V raised a hand at him.

"Coffee for me Tom"

The now identified Tom, nodded, "sure thing Kid"

He eyed Takemura, "and for your suit of a friend?"

V relaxed back into the booth, "I'm sure my friend here can order for himself"

Goro had stood alongside Saburo Arasaka, as the man destroyed families, rival companies and pursued ruthless business ventures at the cost of others. He hadn't even batted an eye.

This foolish Thief and diner owner could not intimidate him.

"The same" Takemura did not look at Tom, just kept his eyes on the Merc across from him.

The man grumbled something which sounded like a slur, and had it been any other day Goro would have killed him right then and there.

But he needed to speak with the Thief.

"Tom's got… some strong beliefs regarding corpo's" V said, obviously uncomfortable having to speak in the first place, "and your not exactly subtle"

Takemura leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

"I do not have time for subtlety, Thief"

The Merc didn't move, still relaxing in the booth. He was allowing Goro to speak, to say his piece.

"We both exist now as loose ends, the only proof of Saburo-sama's murder" Goro felt his mood dampening further, having to think about the dishonorable son and the atrocity he had committed.

"His killer will do everything in his power to prevent the truth from being exposed. Even now, his assassins search for us, turning over every rock we could hide under"

Takemura took a pause as Tom arrived with two steaming cups of coffee.

"Thanks Tom"

"Thank you"

"It's on the house, V" he said, before shooting Takemura a look of contempt. The Corporate man ignored him, and Tom walked away after a moment.

"They will find you" Takemura settled on, speaking once again to V as he brought his drink across the table to rest before him.

It looked scalding.

"I'm not hiding… I've been in plain sight since the very beginning" V brought the drink to his lips, and took a sharp sip.

"Then you are far more stupid than you seem" Takemura chastised, "Yorinobu-"

"-is a fucking leech and a parasite, one that'll sooner drive Arasaka into the ground then find and kill me"

Takemura was taken back by the sudden hostility. The Merc did not have good control over his emotions it seemed.

"I couldn't care less about Yorinobu or the crimes he's committed" V closed his eyes and calmed himself with a deep breath.

When they opened, Takemura could see… nothing.

A black hole tinged in blue.

V spoke slowly and softly.

"I'll help you deal with Yorinobu, if you help me find Adam Smasher"

Takemura had heard this tone before. Seen the very same look. He'd seen it all in the eyes of men he'd put down, in their attempts to kill Arasaka-sama.

This was fury.

V wanted revenge.

"I accept to these terms"

The merc's eyes danced over him, before nodding to himself and taking a large pull of coffee.

Placing the mug down, he rifled around in his pocket.

Goro couldn't help the unconscious hand that drifted to his handgun.

V frowned at him and the subtle movement he had picked up on.

"Easy pal"

A second later, he dropped a chip on the table.

"And this is?"

"A gift"

Goro picked up the thumbnail sized device.

"It's an outgoing and incoming communication device, needs to approve of anything sent or coming in" V tapped it, "kind of like an old walkie talkie system. Only you and me can speak through that, and only if the other chooses. Very hard to trace"

Goro looked it over for a few moments, "hard, but not impossible"

V smirked, something vicious and cruel, "nothing's impossible these days"

Takemura grunted, but didn't verbalize his agreement.

He drained the rest of his coffee and stood, a nod sent in the direction of the Diner's owner.

"Find Smasher" V rolled his right shoulder, limbering up before leaving, "if you do, I'll help you deal with Yorinodu"

Takemura watched him go. V slipped out the Diner's door, and then vanished into the street.

Goro turned his attention back to the chip.

It was no trick. At least, there seemed to be no benefit for the Thief. V wanted something as well, so he did indeed believe that their interests were in line with one another.

And if this device would keep their communications between the two of them then Arasaka would have a much harder time tracking both of them down.

With that in mind, Goro took the chip and slotted it in.

"The triumphant Merc returns"

I sigh at Rogue, ever present within the Afterlife, "morning boss"

"The deal went well, I take it?"

I slid into the seat across from her, the same seat I seemed to always occupy when I came for my tasks.

For once I hadn't caught her at a time where she was drinking, but by no means did that make her sober. She didn't offer me a drink, which was a good sign. The look on her face however, the mildly malicious grin and ferocious eyes…

Better to speak plainly.

"You should know. I had hoped Panam or your buyers would have contacted you"

"They did" Rogue dismissed airly, her grin still there, "after you billed me the expenses, I wanted to know what you think. Was that job worth my or your time?"

I took a second to consider that question.

...I'm starting to wish she had offered me a drink, because this was starting to feel like a trap. One that I had walked into willingly.

"Personally, or professionally?"

Rogue was quick to reply, "both"

With a sigh, I take a good moment to think about what it is I'm going to say.

"It was a waste of my time"

I received a transfer from Rogue, my payment for my completed jobs.

"Now was that your personal or professional opinion?"

She'd sent me a bit extra as well. Presumably for replacing my personal equipment.

"Both"

"Really?" Rogue tested, her eyes flashing for a brief second. She was ordering a drink for herself, maybe for me as well.

If she did, I'm probably not going to refuse. 'It's five o'clock somewhere' I think to myself, before reinforcing my previous words, "If you made some profit, then it wasn't a complete loss"

Two drinks arrived at the table.

I nod to Rogue, reaching for mine.

Her hand flicks up, and I pause, waiting for permission. The conversation wasn't finished yet.

"I believe you're a capable individual V. In the sense that you can handle yourself when shit hits the fan. You're a hammer, one that's been swinging under the radar in Heywood for a very long time" she grabbed her own drink, taking a short and sweet sip.

"I've been asking around about you, and by the sheer number of people telling me not to look… well I think it's time I throw you a bigger bone"

She gestured at my glass.

I reached for it, and downed it in one.

Rogue seemed to be a fan of the Silverhand Special. I was slowly but surely getting well acquainted with the taste of the signature cocktail.

Not bad.

Not bad at all.

By the time my attention was back on the table, she had extracted a shard from somewhere.

Just one shard, as opposed to the handful I was accustomed to.

"What type of job?"

Rogue left the shard on the surface of the counter top, her fingers running a staccato of some unknown beat as I picked it up.

"This was fielded through a good friend of man. A middleman who doesn't like it when I sniff around his clients"

"But you did anyway" I state it as fact, and with the little smirk the statement gets me in response, I know I'm right.

"This individual is the one Corporations go to when they want work fielded to the Afterlife" Rogue explains, her sudden zeal from earlier slowly slipping back to her regular tone.

Thank god.

However, my thoughts refocused around the job Rogue was putting up.

Corporations dealt behind the scenes all the time, wrapping up loose ends and problems out of the public's purview was their M.O.

A lot of despicable things occur for the sake of progress after all. But with all their resources, loyal workers and funding…

"I'm curious as to what kind of job a Corporation would pass around, when they could just handle it themselves"

Rogue simply tapped the side of her head, "slot in and see"

The shard was by the side of my head in a moment, and while-

For a brief second, a hair of time…. I could have sworn…

I blink, and it's gone.

But for an instant… there had been a man sitting beside Rogue.

"V?"

My eyes shift back to the Queen of the Afterlife.

Rogue saw the hesitation. The sudden confusion in my eyes must have been painfully obvious.

"Sorry. Just reminding myself to get something to eat after this"

"Right" she stretched the word out, completely failing to believe me.

I slot the shard in.

Let's see what all the fuss is about, yeah?

Koji Yoshida took an enormous amount of pride in his work. At 12 years old he had moved into the fast lane with his education. A straight climb to the top rung of the ladder.

But it didn't stop there. Graduating with his degree, he signed on with the Japanese military for a brief stint.

With two years of standard military service, and then four years in counter-intelligence, Arasaka was practically drooling to have the natural born Japanese man.

He'd had a successful and bright career, one filled with minimal failure and only mild inconveniences. In all, the security position he now filled, at 35 with a hefty paycheck, was something he believed was well deserved.

Koji was tall and lithe, his weak frame supported by prosthetic arms and legs. His augmentations allowed him to remain flexible but powerful. The neat length of black hair was pulled into a taught bun, resting at the back of his head.

Tradition mixed with the modernity of the future.

Koji was the prime example of an Arasaka soldier.

He worked no longer in Japan, but in the New United States of America, specifically, in Night City. After the bombing of Arasaka Tower, great individuals had been brought in to handle such things as security, and the coordination of any and all operations.

There had been some serious turmoil in the meat grinder of a town… and perhaps the greatest failure of Koji's career.

The death of Saburo Arasaka.

As the head of Security, Yoshida had overseen the details regarding Konpeki Plaza, including such things as security footage.

He'd seen Saburo-sama's killers make their valiant escape, as well as their disguised entry.

Clever work.

He'd enjoyed confirming the death of the Netrunner that had assisted them. Some woman was incapable of handling the might of Arasaka.

But now, as he looked around his spacious apartment, he couldn't help but make one critical observation.

The security systems were disabled.

"Koji-san"

The gravely tone and nature of the voice… it could not be mistaken. He rounded on the speaker, shrouded in the shadows of the foyer.

"Takemura" Koji was calm, and slipped naturally into Japanese "have you come here to kill me?"

Koji was only three feet from the weapon he kept hidden within the apartment, the shotgun that-

"Yorinobu murdered Saburo-sama"

For what little light was in the narrow corridor, Takemura moved into it, revealing his face and the serious expression he wore.

Koji was left to process his words.

Takemura was not joking, or kidding, or playing around… he was being honest.

"How… Yorinobu-sama said-"

"Lies" Takemura cut through, "I conducted my own investigation into the death of Saburo-sama, and upon doing so, have been marked for death" he pointed at Koji, "do not forget the loyalty you owe, and where it resides"

Koji was coming to terms with many things, first and foremost was his abject denial. It sounded fanciful, a hallucination or maybe even psychosis? Has the pressure of Takemura's job gotten to him?

'No' the Arasaka security head thought to himself, 'that is not possible'

"What you say is… is…" Koji remembered the earliest report at Konpeki, that Yorinobu had declared his father was poisoned. Then the later report, that he had been strangled by the two Mercenaries attempting to steal Arasaka property.

At the time, it seemed as if Yorinobu had just made an incorrect call of judgement, upon finding his Father's body… but now?

What Takemura said had an uncomfortable amount of potential truth.

Koji straightened himself, wiping the surprise and fear from his face "what you say is deeply disturbing. And a conversation not to be had in a hallway" he approached Takemura, who allowed him to step past him.

Koji gestured to the hallway beyond, "my study is this way"

He walked on without another word. Takemura followed.

They had many things to discuss.

Cyber-enhancement is an enticing way to get an edge over others, and in this day and age, everyone wants something that could guarantee an advantage.

But, getting chromed out isn't for everyone. Because by putting too much technology into your body, to supplement the pieces you're taking out, you run the risk of Cyberpsychosis.

And in turn, becoming a Cyberpsycho.

When that happens you've gone beyond any kind of normal help.

I don't have much of a clue as to how it happens, any other day I wouldn't care less, but being face to face with what used to be a Militech Lieutenant made me glad I had done my homework.

The job that was being fenced by Rogue's associate, the one I'm currently on, came from somewhere high up in the Militech main branch.

This didn't smell like Counter-intelligence, or even special operations.

They were hiring anyone to get rid of whatever fucking mess they had made. So I wasn't very surprised at the four black militech vans. I was surprised that they were empty.

I'd arrived on the scene nearly four minutes ago, a small corner in Japantown with cordons everywhere.

People were milling about, looking around and trying to see what was happening. None of them had actually crossed the Militech barriers, but they were curious enough.

I pulled into a small space, just enough to not block traffic, but close enough to the site that I wouldn't be able to delta the fuck out quickly.

Slipping past the cordon was routine, just casually walking my way towards the alleyway blocked by the Militech trucks.

A few people exclaimed or complained, but upon drawing my suppressed Unity, their voices fell silent.

They would assume I had some kind of purpose here, an official purpose at least. A militech contractor or something.

But as the dirty low paid Mercenary I am, I walk down the small sidewalk, and come face to face with a few noticeable problems.

The first being the pile of corpses that littered the water washed central space, a large area between all the different housing in Japan town.

All militech too. I'm assuming the poor S.O.B's that had been the official help to the cyberpsycho problem in front of me.

And boy did it look like a problem.

She was twitching, her feet idly scraping the surface of the ankle deep water. Hunched over herself, I wasn't able to get a good look at her face, but the sporadic noises and whispers…

"G-get out! Out!"

She convulsed, before turning around abruptly to face me. Her eyes were unfocused and glossy, blood stained the front of her uniform.

"L-eave me ALONE!"

She had been Militech, and now she was my mark and problem.

I wasn't getting paid to wait though.

Establishing the close quarters and sunken water… and all the dead Militech troops scattered around the arena-like space, I drew my pistol and shot her twice in the head.

Or I would have, if she didn't start to flicker through the air.

I attempted to track and shoot her as she approached me, but each shot failed to land.

A knife that I hadn't noticed before was quite apparent in her left hand.

She was closing the distance rapidly.

I back pedal, moving further between her and myself. She'd gutted all the other people that had come after her, and considering they were armed to the teeth, I'd have to do this close quarters as well.

She was within a foot when she stopped 'blinking' through the air. In a wild lunge she came at me, jagged and bloody knife flailing for my chest.

In a singularly smooth motion I holstered my gun, and drew steel of my own.

Our blades clashed, my own curling with the turn of my wrist, leaving a long bloody line that ran up her arm.

Her howl was inhuman and garbled, more machine than human, and she flickered away.

I wasn't going to let her recover.

Pushing my advantage I lung after her, stabbing precisely, rather than swiping.

My adrenaline is set to its highest, allowing me to push through and dodge her every counter and attempt.

It's almost too easy.

In another second I've de-handed her. The dismembered limb falling into the water.

She's still screaming and babbling incomprehensibly as I make my final approach.

Like a wounded beast, shes trying to fend me off with scratches and claws, the nonsense of her voice disturbingly permeating the space.

In a heartbeat, I've slipped into her guard, avoiding her clawed hand.

My knife found a deep space in her neck, poking right up into her brain.

A clean kill.

Withdrawing the blade, her corpse lifelessly sinks into the small pool of water. Blood seeps into the liquid, mingling with the other crimson stains she had left all over the space.

This job still seemed easy.

Psycho or not, she was still too slow for someone like me.

Most humans were.

I'd rarely met anyone who could keep up with me. Even at my worst, it's like everyone else was just… slow.

This had been no different.

Her blinking technique and however she accomplished that… Now that was something of interest.

My attention is still on the corpse, even though I should be contacting Rogue to inform her of a completed job.

With most cybernetic modifications, the internal systems are something to consider versus what is externally obvious. Beneath the clothes and Militech combat outfit, there's a few pieces and features that catch my eye… but nothing so serious to suggest any kind of experimental piece.

Which means whatever pushed her into Cyberpsychosis was internal. New tech that just wasn't ready yet.

My curiosity held my attention on the now lifeless body for a few more moments… before I heard a shift in things, movement from high and above.

I never stood a chance.

At the speed of sound, the bullet ripped through the back of my head, splattering pieces of my brain all over the damn ground.

It was a shooter, placed above the ground floor, probably lurking up on the rooftops…

But I didn't get to hear all that, or notice all that.

My world went black in a heartbeat.

Can't cheat the devil.

Even god couldn't.

I'm playing concerts.

Alt.

I'm rocking out and burning through cigarettes and eddies, faster than I can even make up for both.

There's a sickness in the city, it's routed in the hearts and minds of the people, something you can't cut out without causing permanent damage. The poison of the world, fabricated and produced by Arasaka.

Then I'm stuck in the head of this freak.

And he is a freak, a monstrous creation that's never known right from wrong.

You can judge my actions all you want, but this thing couldn't know a good thing even if it landed in his lap. The one time it did, an old face from my past managed to take it away.

Adam Smasher. Something we have in common.

It might be a selling point, something I can suggest to get him onboard. It's not like he's got any life ambitions or goals right now.

A bullet to the brain and I'm helping him pull through...

I'm no saint.

Just a dead man with a due date I've lucked out in ignoring.

Can't cheat the devil.

Sure as hell can't cheat god.