The woman immediately spun David around and shoved him forcefully against the cabin wall, locking his arm behind his back and pressing down on his spine with her shoulder to keep him in place.
He could have tried to fight her off, and probably would have succeeded had he done so—he could feel the gap in their strength as she pressed down on him. Given how he had lifted a couch, it'd be child's play to throw her off of him. However, she also had a monowire wrapped around his arm, so if he tried to resist, she probably would just take his arm right off, and David really didn't feel like losing a hand today.
"Hey, what gives—?" he began, but she pulled her monowire even tighter around his wrist to shut him up. The monofilament blade caught against his skin, just barely starting to dig into his flesh—
He snuck up on the two patrolling mercenaries, activating his optical camo. Extending a length of his monowire, he swiftly wrapped it around the man's throat and snapped his neck. Dropping the body, he flicked his wrist out to the side and cut through the other soldier's jugular before the man could react.
"—This little security system of yours," the woman was murmuring in his ear.
David blinked blankly, unsure what the hell had just happened. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of whatever it was he'd just seen and focus on the woman holding his hand hostage. "Security system? What the hell are you talking about?"
She pressed him against the wall even harder, stomping down on his foot as she did.
"Listen, you corporate asshole, I'm not here to play games. Just tell me what department you work for, hand over your datashard, remove the trace, and I'll let you walk away," she hissed venomously into his ear.
"Corporate?" he echoed incredulously. "I'm seventeen, lady. Do I look employed to you?"
"Arasaka's hired younger," she shot back. "Your ID says you're an academy student. If that's true, then why aren't you in school?"
"Dropped out," he gritted out, still trying to find a way out of his predicament. He'd hoped he could just talk his way out of it, but she didn't seem to like his answers, so he doubted he'd have much success that way. He'd have to think up a different solution.
His arm itched uncomfortably.
"Yeah? That's not what your ID says," she whispered, her skepticism palpable.
"Well, I didn't exactly tell 'em I was leaving," he shrugged, causing her monowire to cut deeper into his wrist.
"Uh huh," she deadpanned. "Why'd you drop out?"
David frowned. "Can't afford tuition for next semester. No point goin' back if I can't graduate."
The woman was silent for a second—probably contemplating the best way to deal with him. He didn't think she believed him; she most likely would've let him go if she did. But then again, since she was demanding his datashard, she was clearly a criminal, so she might have already decided to hold him hostage until she could drag him to some back alley and zero him there. He'd seen her face; that could be reason enough, depending on how high-profile she was. He had heard stories of criminals who had killed for less.
"What about you? You're a pickslotter, right? Just tryin' to make some scratch?" he asked, trying to stall for time.
"Somethin' like that," she responded noncommittally. "What's it to you?"
"Let me go and I can help you out," he offered, mostly making things up as he went along. "I, uh…I know a few marks that'll probably be way bigger paydays than anyone here. Should be easy eddies."
The urge to scratch his arm only grew as the conversation dragged on. It was as if something had gotten stuck under his skin and was slowly trying to dig its way out. His hand began twitching almost uncontrollably; David had to physically restrain himself from trying to scratch at it. If the woman saw him doing anything funny with his hand, she'd probably just decide to remove it and save herself the trouble.
"Oh?" he could practically hear her eyebrow raise. "No loyalty to your classmates, hm?"
"Former classmates," he corrected her. "And they're all assholes. Stuck-up rich kids who think their parents'll solve all their problems for 'em. If anyone deserves a little humility, it's them."
One student in particular came to mind.
The woman hummed facetiously, clearly amused. "And what do you get out of it, Mr. Karmic Justice?"
"Fifty percent?" he asked, trying to sound confident. He was pretty sure he failed.
She snorted. "Fuck off."
Clearly, his negotiations were going nowhere. He'd have to find another way out of this.
Luckily for him, she might have just handed him the solution. The way she was pressing against him, David could just barely feel the butt of a concealed pistol sitting at the small of her back, tucked under her jacket. One of his hands was still free, so if he could snag it before she realized what he was doing, he might just be able to force her to let him go.
"I know where they normally hang out," David tried to argue his case, mostly to keep her distracted. "I can point one of the rich ones out to you. His dad's some bigshot in Arasaka, I think. On the school board, or something. Probably gives him more eddies than he knows what to do with."
He slowly, carefully inched his hand closer to her gun, praying she didn't notice.
His captor ground her heel into his toes. "They're corpo kids. I could find 'em in my sleep if I wanted."
"Yeah? Then why don't you?" he shot back. "It'd net you way more than pickslotting here."
"Because it's risky, you fucking gonk!" she insulted him. "Rich people tend to have trackers in their shards, and digital eddy transfers are traceable! I'd be caught within minutes! Do you even think before you open—"
David saw his opportunity and took it. His free hand lunged for her pistol, desperately trying to swipe it, but it was just barely out of his reach. He could feel the gun's grip with the very tips of his fingers, but he couldn't quite gain proper purchase. If he tried to snag it now, his fingers would simply slip off the grip and she would rip his arm off for trying. The longer he reached, though, the higher the chance she would notice, and potentially just kill him outright. Both outcomes were terrifying, and he could feel his opportunity slipping away through his fingers with each passing millisecond.
I just need a little more reach—
And a monowire that he definitely should not have had shot out of his wrist, silently wrapping around the grip and pulling the gun into his hand.
What the fuck?!
Almost reflexively, he flicked off the pistol's safety and pressed it into her side as if he'd done it a hundred times, resting his finger lightly on the trigger. He could barely comprehend what hell he'd done; let alone how he had actually managed to pull it off. He might've given his actions a bit more thought, but his mind was still trying to figure out where the hell he had acquired a fucking monowire.
"Wh—?"
The woman let out a stilted gasp as he pressed the cold barrel into her side, digging her monowire even deeper into his wrist. If she applied any more pressure, his arm would probably end up being cut right off. He had no doubt she would, either. The way she acted, she was most likely affiliated with the Tyger Claws, even if she lacked the Japanese accent. He'd heard some pretty gruesome stories about them from a few of his less fortunate neighbors. Hopefully, he could de-escalate the situation before they both ended up killing each other.
"Hey, hey, easy…" he stressed, nudging her with her pistol. "Just…relax. Let's talk this out. Nobody needs to get hurt."
"The fuck do you want?" she spat; venom thick in her voice.
"Right now, I just wanna keep my fuckin' hand attached," he joked shakily, hoping she didn't take it the wrong way. "Listen, I don't know who you are, and I don't know what you want with me, but I'd like to walk out of here with both hands intact, and I'm sure you'd rather not get shot, so can we just, like, put the weapons down? We're gonna end up causing a fuckin' scene, here."
"Right. And I'm sure you'll just give me my iron back if I let you go," she scoffed sarcastically.
"Promise not to kill me if I give it back?"
Silence stretched between them for a second or two, before she burst out laughing at him. Her voice was as beautiful as it was derisive—the laugh itself was lovely, but her tone was downright insulting.
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," she told him. "If you think I'll buy that, you might as well just shoot me now and get it over with."
David frowned. That wasn't the solution he was looking for. Gangster or not, he didn't really have anything against her, but she was being needlessly hostile. He was pretty sure they'd never met before, so unless he had somehow wronged her in the past and didn't remember it, he couldn't figure out why she was acting so abrasively towards him.
He was quickly realizing that if he wanted things to de-escalate, he'd have to do it himself.
This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done.
"Tell you what," he began, flicking the gun's safety back on and spinning it around on his finger, offering it back to her. "Here. Take it. I ain't lookin' to scuffle. Just let me go, yeah?"
The monowire's grip on his arm loosened ever so slightly. He could feel her hesitate for just a second, weighting her options, before she quickly snatched her pistol back out of his hand and released her hold on his wrist. Her monowire retracted smoothly, sliding off his arm like droplets of water running down his skin.
"Thanks," he said sincerely, rubbing at his arm as he turned around, smiling brightly. "Thought I was a goner for a second there. Sorry for taking your—"
The woman interrupted him by pressing the business end of her pistol against his chest.
His smile dropped. "…Alright, it's not as funny the second time."
She laughed again, her technicolor eyes dancing with amusement. He was pretty sure she was still making fun of him, but her laugh sounded far more genuine this time. He managed to crack a small smile, himself, despite the situation.
She slipped her firearm back under her jacket, smiling wryly at him. "I've never met anyone stupid enough to hand me a gun after I threatened them before."
David shrugged. "Guess I'm just special."
"Something like that," she agreed cheekily.
Silence stretched between them for a few seconds. He took a quick look around the train compartment, noting the empty shard slots lining some of the passengers' necks, prompting him to check his own almost subconsciously. Still there. That was good, he supposed.
"So, is this your only job? I don't imagine kleppin' from these guys nets you much of a profit," he ventured cautiously. He highly doubted it was, given she had a monowire, which were very expensive, as far as he knew. They were usually only used by corpo spooks and other such agents, but he doubted that any corporate spy would make so little scratch that they'd need to resort to petty theft to shore up their account. It was possible she had gone into debt for the 'wire, and was trying to scrounge up the EDs to pay off her ripperdoc, but she had only stolen shards from the men and women in suits. If she was just trying to make as much money as possible, she would have cleaned out everyone on the NCART.
"Nah, just something I do on the side. I mainly go for the suits," she responded casually, keeping her answer purposefully vague. "Why? Lookin' for a job?"
David supposed that made sense. The suits were paid salary, so they usually had some amount of money on their shards. Only targeting the corporate lackeys meant she was stealing from fewer people overall, keeping her potential profits higher while minimizing her risk of getting caught.
"I suppose, yeah. Gotta make some eddies somehow," he affirmed, keeping his tone light. If he started to sound desperate, she might decide he wasn't worth the trouble.
She nodded absentmindedly, crossing her arms as she surveyed the train. "Hm. Well, I might be willing to give you a few tips, but you're gonna have to prove that you aren't dead weight, first. Got anything useful chipped?"
He shot her a cheeky grin. "I managed to snake your iron, didn't I? That not count for anything?"
She snorted, shaking her head. "Not in the real world. You got lucky once, but expecting everyone to be that careless is just asking to die."
David frowned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. She hadn't noticed his monowire, apparently, which was surprising, but also probably for the best. If he showed her his monowire now, she'd probably think he was some kind of corpo spy—just as she had accused him of being, initially—since he had already essentially told her he was broke. Poor people generally didn't have monowires.
On the other hand, though, if he told he didn't have any cyberware, she'd just leave him, and he'd lose his opportunity to make some quick cash, which he desperately needed, considering how much he had just spent on his new scope.
Rock and a fuckin' hard place.
He leaned back against the cabin wall, thinking about his mysterious new monowire. Despite never having used it before, it had reacted to his desires as if it were simply another part of his body, just like his new muscles. Even without looking at them, he instinctively knew what they looked like, how they felt, and exactly how they would react if he tensed his arms in any given manner. Just like with his new body, the necessary knowledge had simply appeared in his head, as if he had been taught how to wield it in one of Arasaka's tutorial braindances while he had slept, or something.
David blinked.
Wait, the dream!
He knew something had seemed off about those. They felt far too real. Were they actually someone else's memories that the doctors had implanted into his head via experimental XBDs or somesuch?
No, probably not. Doesn't take where I got the monowire into account.
He was wasting too much time thinking about this. He recounted the dreams he'd had, going over every detail that might've been important. From what he remembered, in the dream where he had the monowire, he also had optical camo. Was it possible that he could use that, as well?
It sounded way too farfetched, even just thinking about it. There was no way that viewing someone else's memories would allow him to suddenly manifest and use their chrome. That would be insane. And if it were real, both Arasaka and Militech would be absolutely abusing that kind of technology, so rumors about it would have begun circulating, if it were at all possible.
But…I still have the monowire, don't I?
Maybe it wasn't so farfetched, after all.
"Anything? Hello? You there?" the woman asked him impatiently.
"Yeah, just gimme a sec," he responded dryly.
Well, here goes nothin'.
David closed his eyes, slowly recounting the dream he'd had. He focused inward, trying to recall the feeling of invisibility from the dream he'd had—the cold, slick sensation flowing throughout his body like cold, liquid silicone, just under his skin—and imagined himself becoming entirely transparent, blending in seamlessly with his surroundings. He concentrated on the memories of stalking his prey like an apex predator of the wilds, cutting down his foes like blades of grass and escaping unseen.
When he opened his eyes again, his body had vanished, and his new acquaintance was staring wide-eyed at the spot where he was standing.
"What do you think? Not bad, huh?" he whispered, just barely resisting the urge to grin uncontrollably. He had always been jealous of his classmates for having cool cyberware, so it was practically a dream come true to finally have his own, even if he still had no clue where the hell he'd obtained any of it.
She slowly nodded; her eyes narrowed skeptically. "Yeah, I think I can work with that."
"Cool. What do you need me to do?" he asked, still camouflaged.
She glanced around, studying the other passengers before subtly pointing at one of the suits facing the window. "Go stand behind him. I'll force-eject his shard; you catch it, then come back. Don't bump into anyone, either. You do, we're done."
He nodded, before realizing that she couldn't see him. "Sure. Sounds easy enough."
"Then go. You've got fifteen seconds."
David stalked forward gracefully, smoothly avoiding the various passengers standing in his way as he approached his target. He took position a couple feet behind the man, his hands at the ready as he counted down from fifteen.
Four…three…two…one.
Right on time, the target's slot blinked green before his shard forcibly launching out of his socket, flying towards David. He caught it effortlessly, slipping it into his jacket pocket before sauntering back over to his new associate, careful not to accidentally bump into any of the other passengers. Once clear, he stepped back into the corner of the compartment, leaned back against the wall again and deactivated his camo.
"…Mhm. Yeah, I'll bring the package by sometime this evening. Don't worry about it. Gotta go." The woman ended her call—probably from her boss, or something—still staring at the salaryman she had hacked a few seconds ago. When it became clear that she wasn't going to turn around, he tapped her on the shoulder, startling her. Her hand snapped up to his wrist, clamping down on it as she reached for her pistol yet again.
"Hey, chill, it's me," he hissed. "Got the thing."
She paused for a second, still tense, before visibly forcing herself to relax before slowly lowering her hands and turning to meet his eyes. David held up the shard between his fingers, giving her his brightest, most disarming smile. He didn't know how effective it would be, but it always got him out of trouble whenever his mom got angry at him, so he figured it couldn't hurt to try.
It took a few seconds, but she eventually returned his smile, plucking the shard out of his hand. "Good job. Maybe you aren't hopeless, after all."
"Thanks," he shot back wryly. "What's next?"
"We go over to the next cart, clean the suits out. I'll be on one end, point 'em out to you beforehand, then we'll klep their shards in order. I'll force-eject one every ten seconds, so stay on your toes and don't get caught. Once we're done, we'll take 'em to my contact, sell 'em and split the profits eighty/twenty."
"Eighty/twenty?" he recoiled, offended. "Come on. You've gotta give me at least forty."
She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, as if evaluating him. David met her gaze evenly, refusing back down, no matter how intimidating she seemed. He was doing half the work; twenty percent was far too low to even consider accepting, even if he needed the money.
"Thirty, if you're good," she countered.
He grimaced. "Fine."
It wasn't ideal, but he had to start somewhere.
"Oh, right," he remembered, offering her his hand. "I'm David."
She glanced down at his hand, then took it firmly. "Lucy."
He grinned. Maybe his luck wasn't so bad, after all.
They moved into the next cabin, sliding quietly into the nearby corner as Lucy scanned the compartment for any corporate lackeys, pointing them out to him as she identified them. As with the previous cabin, next to nobody was paying them any attention. Everyone was lost in their own little world, either browsing news on the local net, answering calls or simply staring out the windows blankly. Easy marks, all of them—even without his optical camo.
"Watch out for the big guy," she nudged him with her elbow, subtly gesturing at an especially large man in the middle of the aisle. "Arasaka Security Division. Bodyguard. Be extra careful around him. We'll snake his shard first, then wait a while and see if he notices anything. You might have to keep your camo up for a long time if he does."
"That's fine, I can handle that," he told her. He hadn't felt any real strain on his body when he had used it just a few minutes ago, so he figured he could keep it active for quite a while, if necessary.
Lucy gave him the side-eye for a couple seconds, probably trying to determine whether or not he was just being overconfident, before nodding. "Get in position."
Within moments, the shard was in his hand. The big guy never suspected a thing.
They swept their way through the cabin, cleaning out every corporate-affiliated shard they could get their hands on. David would hand the stolen shards off to Lucy after every fourth target they hit, just to confirm that he hadn't run off with their loot, and she would point out their next set of targets as he did. Soon enough, they had established a pattern, and by the time they reached their final stop, they had picked nearly three whole cabins clean.
"What station is this, by the way?" he asked as they stepped off the NCART, both of their pockets filled to the brim with their ill-gotten gains. "I wasn't really paying attention."
"Japantown. Our buyer's a few blocks south," she explained. "He's got some tech that can pull the eddies and data off the shards without alerting NetWatch. He'll buy pretty much any shard you bring him."
"Gotcha," he nodded.
They continued down the busy streets of Japantown, making light conversation. David had only ever been to Japantown once, so he wasn't too familiar with the neighborhood, but Lucy was willing to give him a quick rundown of the area, primarily consisting of what streets to avoid and where the best food could be found. He nodded along, doing his best to commit her advice to memory, even if he wasn't sure how useful he'd find it. Rent in Japantown was much more expensive than in Santo, and the crime was even worse. The Claws were far scarier than Sixth Street, as far as gang activity went, so he didn't exactly have any plans to move there.
"So," Lucy began, changing the subject, "where'd you get the camo? Looked like some pretty high-grade 'ware."
His lips thinned. That was the one question he really didn't want to answer—primarily because he wasn't really sure, himself. He couldn't exactly just come out and say he had received them in a dream. The fact that he had it at all was suspicious enough.
He was very glad she didn't know he also had a monowire, as well.
"I, uh, only got it recently," he said evasively, shrugging. "Didn't know what grade it was when I got it. Guess I got a pretty good deal."
She shot him a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised. "Really? Who sold it to you?"
"Uh…" he racked his mind, trying to come up with a believable excuse. Unfortunately, he'd already hesitated for too long, so it would sound like he was lying, no matter what. It was probably for the best if he avoided answering at all. "I…probably shouldn't say. I don't think they'd want me spreading the word about them."
"Mm," Lucy hummed facetiously, clearly not convinced for a second. "Shame. I know a guy in the market for high-end cyberware. Pays pretty well, too. Your dealer could stand to make a lot of eddies if they linked up. Maybe they'd even give you a tip for it."
David sighed. She seemed really intent on learning where he'd gotten his cyberware. Was she worried her gang had competition? He hadn't known that the Tyger Claws sold cybernetics. Perhaps they were branching out into a new field.
"Eh, maybe. Still probably shouldn't go blabbing about people behind their backs, though. Loose lips sink ships, and all," he deflected.
Her eyebrows rose. "Real trustworthy guy, huh? Loyalty's rare in this city."
He shrugged. "Being a traitor sounds too lonely."
"Wise words," she remarked. "Where'd you steal 'em from?"
David laughed, grinning. "Yeah, you caught me. I'm paraphrasing from an old movie I watched."
Lucy smiled, amused. "I figured. You don't really seem like—"
The distant roar of a powerful engine caught his attention. He held up his hand, silencing her.
"Hold on. You hear that?"
She paused, straining to try and pick up what he'd heard. After a second or two, though, she shook her head. "No, not really. What is it?"
"Engine. Sounds like something pretty big. Getting louder, I think," he told her. The faint rumble was growing slowly louder by the second. Its pitch remained constant, however.
It's not going any faster, but it's definitely getting closer.
He really wanted to just ignore it. He would have loved to simply shove it out of his mind and call it a coincidence, or pretend it was just some asshole revving his sports car a few blocks away, but he had a sinking feeling that wasn't the case.
Besides, even if it was, he couldn't afford to take that chance. Not after what happened yesterday.
"Yeah, it's definitely getting closer," he reaffirmed. "Know anywhere we can hide?"
Lucy glanced at him curiously. "You really think they're after us?"
"Better safe than sorry," he responded, shrugging.
She stared at him skeptically for a few seconds, but upon hearing the vehicle's reverberation herself as it steadily grew more and more intense, she nodded and pointed at the intersection ahead of them.
"There's a parking garage on the right. We can hide in there."
He nodded. "Lead on."
They strode forward briskly, being careful not to attract too much attention from the pedestrians dotting the sidewalk and lining the intersecting steel bridges above them. Crossing the intersection quickly, avoiding a gaudy sports car that had decided to ignore the very obviously red traffic light, they hooked a quick right, keeping an eye out for any suspicious vehicles as they slipped into a small side street at the far end of the industrial-grey parking garage. The front was blocked off by an electronic gate connected to a toll booth, and undoubtedly monitored, so they decided to look for an alternate way in.
They came across a metal door labeled Employees Only at the far corner of the building, locked by a small, electronic ID scanner. Lucy dismissively hacked it with a wave of her hand, and the door immediately unlatched and swung open invitingly.
Entering the building, they headed up the stairs, keeping track of the vehicle density on each floor as they climbed. The first floor was completely packed, as was the second, but the third was significantly less so. Less than half of the parking spaces were still available, which meant ample cover, but the floor wasn't so densely packed that they would have trouble maneuvering through the area should the need arise.
David took position at the north end of the building, using a large van to cover his back as he kept an eye on the streets below. The distinctive, growling engine he'd been hearing was drawing ever nearer, making him wish he'd bought an actual gun alongside his scope. If the unit that had killed his mother had somehow tracked him down, then they were likely screwed.
A minute later, Lucy sat down next to him, resting against the van's front bumper. "Looped the security footage. Spot anything out there?"
He shook his head. "Not yet, but I can still hear 'em. They'll probably be here in a minute or two."
"Any idea who it is?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "I'm hoping I'm wrong."
After about a minute, the source of the sound turned the corner and came into view: a modified Mackinaw pickup truck with a tarp over the bed, likely to hide whatever illicit goods they were hauling. Both driver's side windows were down, revealing two incredibly buff, bald men with tattoos littered across their arms and chest. A painting of a bear's skull could be seen emblazoned on the side of the vehicle.
"Animals? What are they doing here?" he asked as the truck slowed to a stop in front of the parking garage, still in the middle of the street.
"I don't know," Lucy shrugged, fiddling with something on her neural phone. "Did you piss 'em off at some point?"
"I don't think I've ever even talked to an Animal before."
They were talking to each other about something. He tried to listen in a bit closer.
"—Break through the fucking gate, gonk! The thing says they're here, don't it?" one of them shouted angrily.
"Well, yeah, but—"
"Then go!" the one in the backseat ordered. The truck began to back up, turning in an arc until the front of the vehicle pointed directly at the barrier gate.
David ducked down, flicking Lucy's shoulder. "Bad news. They're definitely here for us, and they know we're here. They've got something that's giving away our location."
She tensed, her eyes widening. "Shit. One of the shards we klepped probably has a tracker in it."
"Alright, what do we do?"
"We'll have to dump 'em all. We don't know which one's being traced, so—"
A loud, metallic crash echoed throughout the building, interrupting her.
"Drop 'em! We're out of time!" she yelled, sending her shards sliding across the asphalt and running. He quickly did the same, following her across the lot and behind an expensive-looking armored car, still within line of sight of the van they had originally hid behind, where she had decided to crouch down and wait.
"Why the hell aren't we just leaving?" he asked her, his voice barely rising above a whisper.
She glanced back at him. "And lose out on our payday?"
"Like you said, we don't know which one's traced."
"We don't. But if the Animals were hired to get that shard back, they'll have to identify it. And once they do…" Lucy trailed off, drawing her pistol and checking the chamber indicator.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just hack 'em?" he asked, staring down at her gun.
She shook her head. "Animals usually don't run cyberware. Not much to hack."
"Damn," he muttered, cursing his decision not to buy a gun yet again.
Hopefully my optical camo can get us out of here, if all else fails.
The truck noisily rolled up the ramp, stopping in front of the van that they had dropped their shards behind. The driver cut the engine, and the doors all opened simultaneously. Three large men stepped out of the vehicle, all of them covered in various tattoos and scars. Two of them got to work inspecting the shards he and Lucy had abandoned, while the third stood by the vehicle, scanning the garage intently. David quickly ducked back down to avoid his gaze, glancing over at Lucy, who had already done the same.
"Found it!" one of the gangsters called out, presumably holding up the correct shard. Lucy adjusted her position, ready to pop up and flatline them all, but hesitated upon hearing the distinctive action of a pump shotgun chambering a round.
"Hold on, boys. The thieves are still here. I can smell 'em," the leader barked, sniffing the air. "Grab the iron. It's huntin' time."
Lucy cursed under her breath, taking the initiative. She jumped up from behind the car and fired two quick shots at the leader. One of the bullets hit his arm, but whatever boosters he had taken apparently allowed him to shrug off the round like it was nothing. She ducked back down just before he returned fire with his shotgun, which roared like an angry dragon as he pulled the trigger. The pellets forcefully impacted the car they were behind, but didn't seem to do much damage.
Good thing this thing's armored.
"Over there! They're behind the Chevillon!" the bleeding man shouted, and the building was awash with a cacophony of gunfire. Both of them took cover behind the wheels to protect themselves from any potential ricochets bouncing up from under the car.
Lucy gave him a flat look. "I'm reducing your cut back to twenty!" she called out over the gunfire.
"The hell did I do?!"
After a few seconds, the gunfire paused. David could hear the distinctive scraping noises of steel on steel, and knew they were all reloading. He mimed a reloading motion to Lucy, who immediately peeked back over the hood of the car and fired three more rounds. He didn't look to check if she had hit any of them, but judging by the sudden string of curses coming from the far end of the garage, he had a feeling she did.
Lucy ducked back down just as the automatic fire resumed, swapping out her magazine with a fresh one.
"Any of 'em down?" he asked, just barely loud enough for her to hear.
She shook her head. "I've hit their leader three times, now, but he's still standing."
He thought for a second. If he could get an opportunity, even just for a second, he might be able to sneak out of the line of fire and take them out somehow. With how many rounds the Animals were throwing their way, it was too likely that he would end up getting hit by a stray bullet if he tried, so he needed a way to stop them from shooting, even if it wasn't for very long.
"Hey. Know of any way to distract them? I can go invisible and take 'em out from behind, or something," he explained, flickering his optical camo on and off for emphasis.
Her lips thinned. "Maybe. I've got an idea, but it'd be a pretty big risk."
David shrugged. "Well, it's better than sitting here until we get shot, ain't it?"
"…Fine," she huffed, pulling out her spare magazine. "On my mark."
He nodded tersely, bouncing up into a crouch and awaiting her signal, his muscles tensed and coiled. After a few seconds, the enemy fire began to slow, and Lucy gave him a quick nod before throwing her spare magazine over the car and screaming, "Flash out!"
The gunfire immediately stopped as the Animals all scrambled for cover. David didn't waste a second, immediately springing into action. Activating his camo, he burst out from behind the car in a dead sprint, faster than he even knew he could run, and jumped clean over one of the cars on the other side of the row, rolling as he landed and effortlessly transferring his momentum back into a run. He sprinted alongside the guardrail, using the cars as makeshift barriers to avoid any potential ricochets, vaulting and sliding fluidly over the hoods of the cars that were parked too close for him to run past.
By the time the gangsters had realized that they had been fooled, he had already nearly closed the distance between them. Just as the Animals tried to regroup and resume fire on Lucy's position, David jumped up onto the last car in the row, using its hood as a springboard and launching himself upwards and forwards, aiming directly for the closest gangoon.
Twisting his body in the air, David swung his knee forward as he descended upon the gangsters, catching the closest man in the face with a powerful flying knee. He could feel the musclehead's skull shatter under the sheer force of his blow, undoubtedly killing him as he was thrown across the floor and into the concrete wall behind him. His submachine gun skittered off at an angle, far out of reach.
David didn't stop for a second; he was moving as soon as he hit the ground. By the time the other two had registered what he had done, he was already on top of the next gangster. Operating more on adrenaline and instinct than anything, he grabbed the far bulkier man by the neck and threw him into the side of their truck, then shattered his spinal cord with a powerful punch to the back of the neck, causing both his head and the truck's chassis to crumple inward with a loud, echoing crunch. Their leader had likely realized what was going on, and quickly aimed his shotgun towards David's general direction and fired without hesitation.
He just barely managed to duck down in time, avoiding the blast. David swiftly grabbed the cheap assault rifle the second gangoon had dropped, flung himself into a sideways roll and smoothly rose up onto one knee, snapping the rifle up to his shoulder almost unnaturally quickly and unleashing a precise volley of lead into the leader's face. Just as the man went down, he reflexively turned and emptied a few rounds into his previous victim's head.
The leader fell to the floor with a gory squelch, and then everything was silent.
…Holy shit.
David let out a shaky breath and deactivated his invisibility, surveying the carnage. The garage looked like something out of a horror movie, with blood and grey matter splattered across various surfaces and bodies littering the room, all of them still twitching. He had known he was stronger than before, but this was beyond anything he had ever imagined.
"Hey, Lucy!" he called out, voice still wavering a bit. "Coast is clear!"
At first, there was no response, but after a few seconds, she poked her head out from behind the car, pistol still at the ready. When she saw the nigh-headless corpse of the gang leader lying on the ground, though, she relaxed her stance, lowering her gun and stepping out from behind her cover before sauntering over, intent on examining the damage herself.
"Holy shit," she murmured, clearly impressed. "How the hell'd you do this?"
David wasn't really sure, himself. Unable to provide a real answer, he shrugged. "Adrenaline kicked in pretty hard, I guess," he told her, still breathing heavily.
"No kidding," she agreed, staring pointedly at the crumpled side of the truck and the body slumped against the far wall. She looked back at him, a smirk on her face. "Maybe you've earned that thirty percent, after all."
"Gee, thanks," he told her jokingly, glancing down at the rifle he was still holding before flicking the safety back on. "So, now what?
Lucy gestured to the bodies lying around. "Now, we go through their pockets and hope they grabbed the traced shard. If they didn't, we'll have to destroy all of them."
"Damn." That would suck. All that work, just flushed down the drain.
He got to work, avoiding the blood and gore as he rifled through his second man's pockets while Lucy searched the leader's corpse. Neither of them found anything, but upon checking through the third man's clothes, David found a single datashard in his front pocket.
He held the shard up. "Hey, Luce!" he called out, grabbing her attention as he showed off the shard, grinning brightly. "Found it!"
Lucy smiled back at him. "Great work. We can probably sell off the iron, too; make a little extra. Unless you wanna keep 'em."
He glanced down at the rifle he was holding, then over at the two other guns on the ground. All of them were rather bulky, and nearly impossible to conceal. Without any real training, and without any extra ammo for any of them, he was probably better off just selling them and putting the profits toward something better.
"Nah, let's pawn 'em. I can buy a pistol or something if I need it," he dismissed, crushing the traced shard in his palm and letting the pieces fall to the ground.
"Sounds good," Lucy agreed, collecting the undamaged shards scattered across the floor and pocketing them. He collected the other firearms from where they laid, wrapped them in the tarp on top of the truck bed to conceal them, then tucked the package firmly under his arm so that the tarp wouldn't slip out of his grasp.
Just as he finished, Lucy tapped him on the shoulder. He glanced back at her, giving her a smile. "What's up?"
She smiled back at him. "Hey. After we cash these in, wanna come celebrate at my place?"
David's eyes widened. He swallowed down his shock, surprised that she'd even made the offer. He'd never had much experience talking to girls, so her forwardness was something he had never really dealt with before.
Is she really offering to…?
"Uh—yeah. Sounds great," he stuttered a bit, trying not to sound too excited. "I'd love to."
"Great," she said casually, sauntering off to the exit. "Come on, then. We're wasting time."
He grinned dumbly, watching her walk off, before jogging after her.
Maybe my luck's finally starting to turn around.
