Three Scavengers sit around a campfire, wind whipping at their clothes as they try to settle down for the night.
"Have you heard of the Grim Reaper of Night City?" The first one, a skinny woman leans forward toward the fire, warming fingers against the bitter cold.
"Choom, lay off the hard shit." The largest of the three rolls his eyes.
"No, I'm serious." The skinny woman insists. "They say he was a regular guy until recently, when he started carving his way through night city!"
"Dess, Night City has dozens of murders each day. Nobody would even notice a serial killer like that." The third, a dude that would look average if not for missing half his face to cyberware, sighs and stands up. "I'm going to bed."
"No, guys, I swear! This guy doubled the average death count in the city for two weeks straight!"
"You're saying that this leadhead is just so good at killin' chooms that he's managed to become the fuckin' grim reaper." The large dude shakes his head again. "I ain't buying that scop."
"They say he's been seen out here in the wastes recently." The woman looks around. "Maybe he's looking for something."
"Or maybe you need to unplug from the net, stop reading the screamsheets." The chromed man finally turns away from the fire. "I'm getting some sleep- What's that?"
"Oh, not you too." The big dude nevertheless turns to look out into the night.
Immediately, all three identify that it's a vehicle coming for them- and judging by the way it's skidding all over the road, it's not meant for off-road travel either. Still, it's clearly making its way toward them, and as any good scavs would, they grab their iron and wait.
The vehicle comes to a stop, and the driver's door pops open.
"Choom, that's a Rayfield." The chrome'd man whispers in hushed awe. "That's worth more than an entire den's worth of dolls."
"Shut. Up." The big dude growls. "Hey! You!"
The driver, features hidden due to the headlights contrasting against his shadowy form, turns to face the trio. All three guns come up and aim right at him, but he hardly seems to react to them. "Ah, that's where you are. I was told to meet you."
"Well, we weren't told about you so I'd stay the fuck away or you're gonna be sporting a new hole in your head." The Chrome'd dude sips his finger over the trigger of his assault rifle.
"Is that so?" The man sighs. "Fixer's sent me here to get information from a buncha scav, and somehow this place seems right."
"What are you lookin' for?" The woman asks, handgun already linked to her optics, though- curiously- they're struggling to maintain a lock. "Maybe we've seen it, if you've got Eddies."
The shrouded man shrugs. "Woman named Jennifer Wallen. Short, blue hair, back chromed to shit."
"We seen any gonks like that?" The big dude turns to the other two.
"Yeah, I have." The guy with the assault rifle stands up. "What's the information worth to you?"
"Depends on if it's any good." The shrouded man folds his arms and shifts his weight to his other foot. "But if it is, then I've got plenty."
The trio looks between themselves for a moment.
"Okay, Choom. But first, introductions. I'm Benoit."
The man with half his face replaced with chrome lets his rifle's barrel drop. "Hernandez."
"Synthia." The woman sets down her gun, making a mental note to fix it later. "What's your name?"
The figure pauses for a moment. "Call me V."
"She's in there."
Quite a sight, the four of them. The three scavs are wearing dusty and worn clothes, while there's a man in a business suit stadnign there, remarkably out of place.
V's lip curls slightly. A cave. A goddamn cave. "You're sure about this?"
"Yeah, totally." Hernadez' face-lights illuminate red. "You said she's the chick with the crazy back chrome, right?"
"Yes. You three wait here, I'll go in. If she's here, I'll pay you when I come back out."
"Hold it, Choom." Benoit holds his arm out in front of V, blocking his path. "You seriously goin' in there all by yourself?"
"Is there a reason not to?" V shrugs.
"Only a whole lotta leadheads and an arsenal to match." Synthia twirls her gun on her finger. "How 'bout you hire us to escort you?"
V's lips purse for a moment, lips twisting as if resisting a smile. "I suppose I can double your pay if you want to collect the hazard bonus."
"Fuck it, I'm in." Hernandez turns toward the mouth of the cave. "Haven't gotten a chance to kill some gunks in a bit."
"Do we need this Jennifer alive?" Benoit asks.
"Preferably." V shrugs off his coat and tosses it into the front seat of his Caliburn, revealing his arms are not completely organic. The backs of both forearms are black, the carbon fiber covering hiding some sort of chrome that the scavs could only dream of acquiring. "Let's go."
"After you, Choom." Benoit gestures with his shotgun.
V confidently strides inside, pace unhurried as he glances around at the scaffolding. Unlike the haphazard way it tends to be arranged out here in the wasteland, this scaffolding seems to be placed purposefully.
Almost like an arena.
"You think they're home?" Synthia asks quietly.
"Oh, for sure." V nods. "In fact, they're already setting up the welcoming party."
"The what?" Benoit asks, just before the lights suddenly come on from a dozen different directions.
"You gonks shoulda listened to your whore mothers when they told you to stay the fuck out of caves." A voice amplified by some sort of loudspeaker rains down on the four. "How about you lay down your weapons?"
V lifts his hands into the aim, though his demeanor is still casual. "Hey, no need to be hostile. Just looking for someone."
"Ain't we all?" Comes the same voice. "And unluckily for you, we got you gonks surrounded, so I think you are gonna surrender right here and now, or you get flatlined."
"That's not how I want this to end, and I'm pretty sure it's not how you want it to end either, alright?" V takes a few steps toward the center of the makeshift arena. "I'm looking for Jeniffer Wallen. Blue hair, lots of chrome on her back. Seen her?"
"Seen her?" The disembodied voice laughs. "Gonk, I cut her up myself."
V pauses. "I see. Flatlined?"
"Not yet. I prefer my output to be warm."
"Don't suppose I can buy her off of you?"
"Heh, what, you think you're some sort of high roller or something?"
V doesn't seem to react to the jibe, smile still in place, hands in the air. "Not particularly. I just need the woman and I'll go."
"How about… no."
The sounds of weapons being racked echo around the cave, and the lights of several smart weapons illuminate in the shadows of the scaffolding.
Synthia, Hernandez, and Benoit look at each other. Benoit raises his shotgun-
"Well, I tried."
The two hatches on V's arms open, and a split second later the room fills with an ear piercing screech that sands everyone- cybernetically enhanced or not- to the ground, clutching their ears in agony.
When Benoit manages to get back to his feet, V is gone. There goes their payday. He pokes at his ears, checking to see if there's blood, but no, it's all good.
"V?" Synthia calls out.
Hernandez gets to his feet and looks around. "Where'd our Chooma go-"
A blood curling scream, and a body slams into the ground with a wet crunch. His bones stab through his skin in multiple areas, blood is rapidly accumulating along the rocky floor, and his breathing is haggard.
A moment later V drops down beside him, legs hissing as yet more hidden chrome softens the impact.
"Okay, let's try this again." He leans over the now-terrified man. "Where's Jennifer?"
The man tries to speak, but can't seem to actually get any words out.
"Anyone else?" V looks up and around.
"Fucking hell choomba, she's in the ripper room in the back." One of the other men calls out from the darkness.
"Thanks." V turns to head for the door opposite the entrance-
BANG
Synthia's eyes grow wide as the bullet that had just lodged itself in V's back comes to a stop and falls to the ground.
V stops in his tracks, turns around, and peers into the darkness from where the bullet came from.
"I don't know why I even bother."
Once more, the entire room bursts with light, but this time it's not the spotlights.
Two dozen people suddenly burst into flame, cyberware overheating and cooking flesh, fabric, hair and leather as it runs out of control.
V stands calmly in the center of the room, observing the horrific deaths with little more concern than one would have for an ant with its body cut in two.
Once the last person stops screaming, he turns and heads deeper into the building.
"We need to go." Hernandez whispers. "Let's bail before he gets back."
"But the pay-"
"We ain't gettin' the Eddies, Benoit. Let's just get goin'-"
V walks out of the back room, a bloody person that might as well be a corpse over his shoulder. Almost at the same time, a sum five times larger than they had discussed is transferred to all three of their accounts.
"Should be good enough." V strides past as they remain still from the shock. "Thank you for your assistance. It was nice not to get stabbed in the back for once."
"...Yeah, anytime."
"Hey, V!"
V stops and turns to look at Synthia. Benoit and Hernandez both take a step away from her.
"With pay this good, you ever need some hired muscle, you got my number."
"...Thank you." He smiles a cold smile. "I'll keep you under consideration."
With that, he turns and leaves the cave.
The Scav trio sits there in the smell of burning person, unable to bring themselves to follow for a good minute or two after V had left despite the unpleasant environment.
"He didn't even need us." Benoit mutters.
"You think he was the Grim Reaper?" Hernandez whispers.
"Oh, so now you gonks believe me." Synthia grumbles.
"I've never seen someone hack thirty people at once!"
"Grim reaper, nothing." Benoit brings up his bank balance and stares at the absurd number. "I get the feeling we just made a deal with the devil."
Three months later
"-bring you a report on the 'Grim Reaper' of night city. Known mostly by his moniker, V, the Grim Reaper terrorized all of Night city and its surroundings."
The report switches to an interviewee.
"He just stood there, and if he looked at you, you fucking flatlined, Choom! I only made it out 'cuz I hid my face!"
It cut's to another face.
"I was right next to him in the crowd. I saw his eyes light up when he hijacked Hanako's float and crashed it into the building, and when he made a fucking finger gun and fired it at the float it exploded. The timing was way too perfect to be a coincidence-"
The footage cuts to an old man in a prison jumpsuit.
"He… He killed my son in front of me. We were just trying to make a living here, just like everyone else! Sure, what we were doing was disgusting, but we had no choice! And then he… he…" The man chokes up. "He walked in, listened to our explanation, and proceeded to ask me how much I valued my family." Tears leak from his eyes. "When I said yes, my son's head exploded."
The footage flips to a trio of scavs.
"He just kinda showed up in the middle of the night, got us to help him find a girl, and then left."
"Choom legit torched thirty people with nothin' but his hacks! One moment we was staring down the barrel of those guns, and the next all we could smell was burning flesh!"
"I wonder where he went." The ex-Maelstrom scav examines his rifle. "We haven't heard about him killin' anyone in a few months."
The video returns to the news caster's face. "We will now dive into the month-long reign of terror, the cause, rise, and eventaul fall of one Vincent-"
