A/N: So, through the very fair process of democracy (and my own fuckups on Reddit), El Tigre Del Norte will be posted first before the Cyberpunk and Arknights crossover, Neon Knights. Keep in mind, this story follows Cyberpunk Red rules somewhat with a bit of Cyberpunk 2077. So, while the MC can be seen as a Nomad and a Fixer, he can also do a lot more. Also, the MC will be seen in Neon Knights when I decide to publish it.

What else… Right, the MC is a Night City Legend, which explains why he's very skilled. Mostly. I hope it makes sense.

This story has been inspired by various GFL fics and crossovers, if you want, you can try and point them out as they appear.

While Cyberpunk Red and 2077 are the main focus, there's a bit of 2020 sprinkled in.

Also, I'd like to thank my beta reader: Average Blood Dropper on Discord.

There'll be some more at the end, so check it out, for now, I hope you enjoy it.

Rockerboy, that's what they call me, it's a bit of a...misnomer, really. Sure, I like the strumming of strings causing the implants in me to shiver and quake in excitement just as much as the next guy, but..

Before I was a Rockerboy, was a Nomad, used to roam combat zones and the like looking for old music to either try and play for my family or just random stuff. Not many people put a lot of stock into music, seeing it as something that has no use.

Especially when you find yourself with music and capable of actually learning it and the various instruments that come with it. While the family worked construction and smuggling, I had my own little thing, which involved singing old songs, or writing new ones, particularly old corridos.

Corridos of cartel members whose opposition are still around and took...offense at the continued existence of these songs.

In return, when they hunted down my family, I led the teams that dismantled the leaders, their operations, and an abundance of other things from my position as a Fixer. Now, while all of the aforementioned sound complicated, it's quite simple really.

I'm not a Rockerboy. I can play a guitar, acoustic or electric, and even some more obscure things, but I'm no Rockerboy.

As for my status as a Fixer, when the cartels killed my family, they did it cleanly and efficiently, with me being the only exception to the 'cleanly' part. So, I found myself with a problem. I had a bunch of Nomad vehicles, nomad weapons, nomad materials, and nomad clothes, but no one to use them, so I did the reasonable thing and went to Night City to rent them out to people who needed them.

It was...difficult, but I could play a guitar, I wasn't the most creatively inclined when it involved music, and I just wanted cartels dead, so the scope of who would let me play where was very...varied. From there, people would complain in bars or places I'd play at, and 'ta-dah', they suddenly had access to a good car maintained by Nomads, weapons capable of enduring Combat Zones and the Badlands, and, sometimes, information.

That's how it was at first until I managed to buy my own place. Until someone tried to skip town with my car.

Old-fashioned it might have been, but I always loved, loved, revolvers, and I got good with them, as it was shown when I shot the man driving right at me in an attempt to run me over.

Replacing the window and cleaning the ensuing blood was a bitch and a half though.

Regardless, through time, grit, and more, I carved my own little empire within Night City.

With all the women, drugs, money, and favors available, I did the one thing I've always wanted.

The leader of the cartel that ordered the hit on my family gapes, rain pouring down hard and falling off the frame of the Malorian Arms I bought, his blood intermingled with the water as he fell down in the alley.

Aiming once more, I fire twice, the high-caliber ammunition practically turning his face into mush and painting the floor with his brain matter. Slowly, I sigh, the body of the man that ruined my life all those years ago, just...dead.

After years...I could finally breathe.

Then, I heard the sound of sirens along with the screech of tires as I turned to see the new corpses lining up. Arasaka ninjas, soldiers, commandos, a lot of people looking to take my head, my empire, my car, my guns, my very soul.

Outfitted with the best money could offer…

One of theirs fell first, a round splattering the man's brain on the window of a vehicle as the ninjas moved.

Swords looking to cut my head off met resistance in the form of incendiary rounds that burned them despite the chrome lining their bodies.

I'm no Chromehead, no Maelstrom, but I am good with what I've got, my strength, speed, endurance, charisma? All mine. Chrome only makes me better.

They call me 'Tiger'?

On that night, I showed everyone why that is.

That's it.

It's time to call it quits.

I stare at the line of vehicles, each one as beautiful as the last as I stare at my datapad.

I've done everything I needed, I climbed the ranks, tussled with the best, and completely decimated the cartel. I've had my taste of greatness, and it was amazing.

Now, I enter the kombi of my Family, the Northern Tigers, and rev it. "Time to say goodbye."

With a tap, my empire crumbles, my eddies? Gone as I pay my employees their last check with a big, fat, extra. The vehicles not with me? Short-circuited and unusable. My connections? Cut as no longer will anyone be able to tell where I am, who I can talk to.

It's in this situation that I make my graceful escape from the stage. I've lived it up, I've completed what I needed, and now, it's time for me to go home.

So, I decided, hey, why not live it up one last time.

Slowly, I engage the auto-pilot of the kombi as I make my way up to the top of it, portable amp in hand, guitar on the other, and the lights of Night City behind me.

Strumming a few strings, I nod, my left arm alit with circuit-like designs while the other had roses crawling up my arm, and begin playing, gradually increasing until I begin to sing, "Why don't you ask him, if he's going to stay? Why don't you ask him if he's goin' away~."

I lose myself in the song, my heart beating and smiling proud, I'm free.

I'm free!

Then, I saw the AV's heading my way, but I didn't care. I continued to play.

Continued to sing.

Because at that moment, I was no Johnny Silverhand, no Blackhand Morgan, no big anti-corpo sentiment, even if I did feel so, no cyberpsychosis, nuthin'.

I kicked Arasaka's teeth in, kicked the cartel's teeth in, for a long while, the City was mine.

I won.

The city went for my soul and I fought back, time after time, going after my morals, my friends, my life, and each and every time I came out on top. Betrayals aplenty, I fought my way through it all. My strength was mostly my own, not my chrome's.

The way I sing, the way I play the guitar, all of it?

Mine.

I continued to play Tusk as I came to the end, letting the song die down as I slung the guitar off and threw them in the front seat of the kombi.

Reaching back, my hand goes for the Malorian modified to fit my hand instead of its original user, tucked under my shoulder in a holster before I brandish it and aim.

John's iconic weapon that I robbed from Adam Smasher before sending him into hiding with it, miraculously, barks as my arm jerks back, sending the round through the cockpit as it skews to the side as I lower the gun.

Looking down, I scan the vehicles on my convoy and huff. Someone's trying to take control of them remotely.

Not. On. My. Watch.

Holstering the Malorian, my optics zoom in, looking through the AV's until I find the one. After a bit of evasion of ICE, the AV powers down and careens to the side before righting themselves…

Right in the direction of the AV falling after I shot the pilot again.

There was a loud explosion and no more attempts at my vehicles.

I glance back, the kombi still going through freely as I aim once more.

Except...something began to pulse. "Huh?" I start looking down at the kombi. "What the…"

My Agent begins blowing up, my Biomonitor warning me and the watch on my wrist inscribed into my wrist flickering as the time changes. "Shit." He curses as he slides back onto the driver's seat and disengages the auto-pilot, chippin' in with his Interface Plug as information coursed through his brain.

Seems like the tech his Family klepped years ago found the energy it needed and it's activating at that mo-.

A second later, in a flash of bright light, the convoy was gone, the corpos were mad, the streets were celebrating, and the Nomads cheered at the Northern Tiger's last song.

-ment.

Fuck!

Josue 'Tiger' Mondragon steps on the brakes of the kombi leading the convoy of his vehicles, nearly running off the edge of a cliff as he breathes heavily.

Deactivating the kombi, Josue opens the door and jumps off, light brown skin and brown hair, brushing back and tapering off as it goes lower, EMP Threading curving at the corner of his eyes as he licks his lips and reaches to lower the jacket sleeves as the Synthskin died down and left no evidence of the previous tattoos.

He wears a leather jacket, an armorjack vest around his torso with some knee pads as he reaches back and flips a hoodie over his head, the sweater he wore under it coming handy as he looks around. "What kind of backwater European place is this?"

Despite his current status as a Fixer, or previous, he was originally from a Nomad family with the experience to back it up. It's how he could rent out his cars with confidence since he knew every in and out of each vehicle, what went where, why it went there, and even ways it could improve. For years before the hit on his family and after, in between his performances, he would maintain the vehicles and even do the same after he could pay others to do it.

He also knew the American land quite well, and one thing you don't see much are cliffs and mountains. So the fact that he can see a bunch of them, he's clearly not in the States.

Well…

At least it's not Night City.

Slowly, he makes his way back to the kombi as he begins his drive to what is considered 'ground' level.

He needs to find a place to stow away his vehicle and connect to...something. He's no Netrunner, but Nomad's got their own way of doing things, all he needs is an in and he'll be able to do a lot.

Especially since the ensuing release of energy must have caught some eyes.

There's a strange number of abandoned buildings in the area, far too many if Josue had anything to say about it. Last he checked, the European Union should still be fine… so for there to be this many abandoned buildings, enough to hold his kombi and the other vehicles…

Not to mention…

He rests on the Communications Center beside his Terminal found in his kombi, a bed, shower, kitchen and other similar amenities found amongst other things such as tools, food, weapons, and ammunition with more hidden in compartments within the kombi. The screen of the Communications Center switches, depicting the various vehicles, their locations (well, relative location to his kombi), and their status. "Fucking 'ell. 'Course shit goes tits up now."

At the moment, none of his vehicles have access to the nearby satellites, so while he could call up any of them, they have a higher chance of crashing.

Josue's eyes swivel to the various monitors on the desk of his Terminal, his sizable Empire he had when he was in Night City allowing him to meet many people and get a lot of favors, for example, giving a Netrunner their payout and asking for some old gear to add in a bit extra.

A mish-mash of companies, groups, and more as he looks through the various bits of information within the screen, particularly, the radar as he activates it for a second. After a second, and confirming the blips are his vehicles and not anything else, he deactivates it.

It makes no sense, he should have access to...to something! Anything!

He huffs, activating the radar once more as more blips pop up and he deactivates it. Finally, he huffs as he pushes himself away from the desk and stands up. "Let's get changed." He says out loud to himself as he goes to his trunk of clothes.

He changes into more fitting clothing, a light armorjack vest over his shirt and under a jacket as he grabs a Fabrica De Armas M-2012 with the Errata, the military katana by his side as he grabs some extra materials and stuffing them into his carryall while slipping a Colt Peacemaker to his belt and steps out of his kombi.

"Right, let's find a cell tower to connect to, then a satellite." He mutters to no one in particular, shifting his carryall as he makes his way to the nearest cell tower.

Which, as one might guess, was quite a distance away, but on foot is a lot more viable than on one of his vehicles, who knows what's out there.

"There is~, a house~, in New Orleans." He sings to himself under his breath, his boots making little sound, since even if he had a long stint as a Fixer, he still had to go to the field himself. Bureaucracy? Accounting? Tactics? His bread and butter. Shooting? Accuracy? He sent Adam Smasher packing for a reason, as much of a miracle that was. Singing? Playing? He's confused as a Rockerboy for a reason. Repairing? Maintenance? Nomad.

He hums the song, occasionally singing it as he keeps his grip on his M-2012, prepared to fire as he looks to the sky for a sign, any.

Boy, does he get one.

Something chills his shoulders, mind, and body as he falls to the floor, rounds hitting the tree behind him as he turns, firing back and nailing a few as he scampers to his feet and rests his back against a tree. Reaching into his pocket, he brings out a thin chip as he jams it into his socket, Chyron displaying a status screen that was quickly completed as the change was near-instant.

Placing a hand against the floor through the snow sends signals through his brain, taking the information quickly as he sighs in relief. Five. That's doable.

He slings his M-2012 and goes for his Malorian and aims.

The recoil of the Malorian would cause any normal person's wrist to break if they shot it with one hand, but Josue has an internal frame installed into his arm, not to mention his own strength gained through training.

He peeks out and aims, one of the soldiers falling as their brains splatter the trees behind them as the round hits them in their head before going to the next, hiding behind a tree, gunfire, no, energy rounds whistling beside him. He aims and fires, nailing their head as he switches to his Sidewinder, blindly firing as their gunfire dies down and he dashes to a different tree.

A few seconds later, the grenade at the base of the tree he was ducking behind goes off, taking a large chunk of the tree as it swerves in the opposite direction before a second explosion rings out, sending it in the correct direction as snow is kicked up.

The soldiers lose sight as they look around, only for one of their sights to turn upside down, followed by a whistle as the closest fires at the previous location, the headless body of their ally charging at them as it takes the energy rounds before Josue picks them up and throws the corpse at the one firing.

An EMP goes off as Josue aims his M-2012 and fires, hitting the target as their head explodes as the bullets hit while he rushes at the enemy spazzing on the floor harder than a Boosterganger on Black Lace for the first time.

She, because the enemies were a she, struggles but in that time frame, Josue was stronger as he searches for a port to jack in to.

He finally found it at the base of their necks as he removed his plug from his wrist and jacks in.

First, he needs to breach as he does so, quickly leaving a little 'surprise' as he Cloaks himself, hiding his presence by masking it as the 'Doll' he's using. Immediately, he's flabbergasted at the lack of ICE in the place, not to mention C? This...This isn't META.

Not at all.

Not to mention…

That's been being said a lot, 'not to mention' before a dramatic pause.

Still, not a very good thing considering what Josue can hear. While it's not clear, someone is sending orders to people. And the Net Space…

It goes upward rather than downward, whoever made the system these Chromeheads use must use them for orders. Still, that leaves a problem, how can he cause the most damage in the least amount of time?

Something tells him that if he decides to try and go a bit higher, the next rank won't be easy. He needs a backdoor, needs more information.

Needs to make sure his Cloak is good enough, his ICE is up-to-standard, and his Demons and Programs will be enough.

Well, he sacrificed his ability to make things so he could be charming enough to stop a fight, and if that failed, fast and strong enough to end it. His Netrunning skills aren't the best, but…

Seems like he can leave a little gift, especially with the data chip slotted into his socket and Josue use of Eye-Dee on any files he can find.

So, before jacking out, he decides to… leave a parting gift.

"Hope you've got an exorcist on speed dial." He mutters, the icon coming to life as the Hellhound begins barking and Josue holds its chains. "'Cause unless you're fast enough, you won't know what hit you."

He lets go of the Black ICE and jacks out, returning to Meatspace once more as the doll, Sangvis Ferri, short circuits and dies in hands. Usually, he'd feel something, killing someone in such a brutal way.

Instead, satisfaction coursed through him.

"Ah!" One of the Sangivs Ferri dolls stops in front of a woman with white hair and green eyes, marks under her eyes as she stops herself from pulling the trigger of her HK416.

"'Ah'?" The woman repeats as she sees the Doll stumble.

"Ahhhh~." It moaned in pain, then…

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The cries came as the flames followed, similar images happening as even the Sangvis Ferri Ringleader cried, bursting into flames as the witnesses looked on in horror.

"Get that damned Hellhound out!" The Ringleader, Hunter, yelled. Fear in her eyes, for some reason as a girl with brown hair watches, a scar across her eye, curious and almost afraid as she aims her UMP45 at the Sangvis Ferri and shoots her.

Similar scenes happened as nearby Sangvis Ferri units were shot down with ease as some that they didn't get to were still burning, their eyes empty and their mouths drooling.

A sleepy girl in military fatigues and carrying a G11 blinks, "What the hell just happened?"

"I think…" The girl with a UMP45 starts, before sighing, "We just saw something troublesome."

There was no disagreement with the astute observation, instead, a feeling of dread at what they just witnessed. More so when their client contacted them before they could even report.

With reluctance in their every move, they answered, the image of their client coming into view as they got to the elephant in the room immediately.

"Did you encounter any Sangvis Ferri that spoke of a 'Hellhound'?"

Meanwhile, a young girl watches as the system they had faith in broke around her, watching as a monster ran roughshod before it was cut off. Not taken care of, simply restrained in a different area.

None of them could do anything about it, and it was insulting and sobering. They were scrubbing the OGAS System at the moment, a sobering silence coming over all of them at this feeling of...inadequacy.

Taking a breath, Mastermind turns to Agent. "Agent."

"The mess has been taken care of. We will increase patrols within the area of the origin in hopes of finding who, or what, did it." Agent answers curtly as Mastermind nods.

She continues waiting, even with this problem, there's nothing to worry about.

Nothing…

…

Reaching up to a spot under his ear, he taps the socket, a click ringing out in the back of his head, as he extracts the memory chip. "Right." He starts as he pulls forward a socket connected to a shoddy laptop, opening it as he inserts the chip and starts up a Program.

Sangvis Ferri, we're getting somewhere.

"Sir," a voice starts as Josue turns up, recognizing the voice, "scans have been complete."

"Tlaloc." Josue answers, looking at the holographic image of a man within his kombi, the Agent he named after the Aztec god of rain, not to be mixed up with Chi, his personal Agent. "I was getting worried, about to call you up. What took you so long?"

"Well, kinda hard to do much when ya got a few lines missing." He retorted immediately, "I haven't been able to set up a connection with any nearby satellites, but I have been able to make a local map of the region and cross-referenced it to other areas and have come up with a close match."

"Nova. Pull it up." He requests as he looks at the main monitor, glancing at the other monitors with the cameras he set up in the area before returning to the main one as she pauses. "...Why are we in the Neo-Soviet Union?" He asks as he continues inspecting the files within the chip he managed to copy before short-circuiting the borg. "How?"

"I do not know." Tlaloc admits, almost sadly, "By your request, I don't have access to the laptop you're working on, so once you finish parsing through the files, you can send them here."

"Got it." He answers, his typing speed increasing as the click and clacks ring out. "So, is there anything else to report?"

"Nothing of note. Until we can make a connection with the local network, we might get a better idea." Tlaloc answers as Josue scoffs.

"We can't be in the Neo-Soviet Union. Check it." Josue says, finished parsing through his experience in the Net found in the Sangvis Ferri 'Doll' as they seem to be known as.

Continuing his process as he sparses more and more, Tlaloc pipes up. "This isn't the Soviet Net."

"Yeah, figured." He retorts as he looks at the map. "But, this is the Neo-Soviet Union. It's not America, at least."

"...Do you remember the machinery I told you wasn't important?" Tlaloc asks as Josue sends him a flat look. "Well…"

"You mean the last piece of machinery my Family smuggled before they were shot down? The main reason why they were exterminated in a night?" Josue notes sourly, before nodding. "Yeah, so what is it?"

"It's no longer operational."

"What!?" Josue yells, pausing his process as he crouches down and moves a trapdoor and reels as sparks nearly land on his face. "Fuck."

The piece of tech in front of him was a backup generator connected to the electronics of his kombi, at least, that's what it was when his Family set it up. Reaching for his tools, he begins the process of maintaining it and repairing it. The main generator is still operational, but the one he's fixing…

There was a display that read Error in big bold letters as he began taking it apart. Complicated machinery being thrown out as his knowledge comes in handy along with the files he managed to snag about the project itself.

'New Land' was the name, it was supposed to be a project to 'reinvigorate people' and 'return to a better and more livable time'. That's what the client said it was when he told Josue's Family to smuggle it out. The client died and the Northern Tigers had a new generator they hooked up to their kombi after finding out it wasn't a terraforming machine meant to help with farming.

As Josue pulls it apart, knowledge putting it together, Josue realizes something. "The Corpos were going to invade a different world for resources." He notes, the generator is no longer a machine meant to bring vehicles and people into a different world, but a very effective generator.

"It seems...impossible." Tlaloc points out as Josue shakes his head.

"Well, we're not in the world we knew." Josue says, "Not even in the same country. Like Elfline Online." He says as he wipes away some sweat and stows away his tools, lowering the engine before closing the trapdoor. "I don't think we can go back."

Would he even want to is a different question as he shakes himself out of it. Cleaning his hands with a rag, he sits down again and begins typing away. "Those Dolls shot me without a second thought, they're probably not friendly with humans. It'd be good to know where they are. The Backdoor I slipped is still operational. It probably hasn't been found, I could probably make a Program to monitor their activity, to an extent, scramble the signal. Might not be able to listen in, but they should be able to appear on a map." He mutters under his breath with a grimace. "Damn it, I'm really missing having access to actual Netrunners."

Still, Josue wasn't a Night City Legend for no reason.

Slowly, he continues working into the night.

Death was common in the Time of the Red, but the Northern Tigers didn't let such a thing stop them for too long.

They were easily swindled, easy to rob, with easy women, easy. Until the buildings commissioned by the people who said this and were made by the Northern Tigers crumbled, their house stripped bare of even what was nailed down, their clothes stripped from their back and when the women gouged out the eyes for saying such a thing.

Beyond taking inspiration from an old band, Los Tigres del Norte, and the general race of the members, the Northern Tigers were ferociously loyal and did good work if you did good by them. They smuggled, fought, built, and partied like no other, even in the midst of the end of the world.

Amongst their members was a young, adventurous boy by the name of Josue, he kept his distance not because he was isolated or because people disliked him, but because of his skills. He loved playing guitar and loved fixing cars, he loved singing and was good at it all.

When he talked, people listened, when he laughed, he laughed joyously.

When he fought, he fought like the namesake of his family.

That matters little under the hail of gunfire that gunned down his family.

His mother used her body to hide him, to protect him as he watched the killers, a mix of fellow Nomads, Corpo Agents, and Cartel members sweep the area. After half a day, most of them were gone as Josue pushed himself off the ground and aimed at the nearest member with his revolver, an ancient Colt Peacemaker he managed to restore from its original rusted form.

The round pierced his head as he aimed at the next, and hit them in the neck, as they fell.

He picks up a shotgun, double barreled, as he aims and pulls the trigger, the buttstock hitting his shoulder as the soldier falls, Josue stepping on their chest as they tried to run as he rested the barrel on their head. Their brain matter and blood paints the ground as Josue removes the spent shells and loads more.

Aiming with his Colt 'Peacemaker', the next soldier died by a bullet through the cranium before he shot down the last man trying to run.

Lowering his revolver, he looks at the corpses of his family as a sob bursts as he falls to his knees. Sobs burst forward as his mouth felt dry and wet as he scampered to his mother's cold corpse, holding her hand as he tried to find any sign of life.

There was none. He went to the nearest corpse and tried again.

None.

On and on he sobbed, trying, praying, hoping that there would be something to cling onto. He jacked into their sockets, performed CPR, anything, but nothing.

Not even the children were spared, any cradle they had now empty and anyone younger than him spirited off to who knows where.

He cried into the night, his screams no longer resembling anything human, simply sorrow as he screamed his throat raw.

Finally, after checking the people he killed, he found answers.

The ones in Nomad clothing had patches of a Mongoose. The ones in more normal clothing had the signs of Cartels. Finally, the singular Corpo he killed first had an Arasaka patch.

Mongoose. Cartel. Arasaka.

Night City. He knew the name, knew the news of Johnny Silverhand blowing the tower to kingdom come. But first, he had to honor his family.

So, he did, digging a grave for each and everyone before gently lowering them for their final rest.

Grabbing all the guns, all the weapons, all the cyberware they still had, and loading it up to the kombi, he drove it through the Open Road.

Alone.

A procession of ghosts in the form of the vehicles used by his family following behind him on his quest for revenge. He stops at inns, hiding the vehicles and kombi to get some cash by playing and singing at random bars and inns on his way there, gathering information.

Everyone knows Arasaka, and even with their main branch in America blown to hell, everyone still has a vice on their balls, so not much was said there. The Cartels aren't much better, but he did get a name.

The Calmecac, what was generally known as the premier academy during Aztec times.

While the former roam the Badlands, taking people and robbing, the latter are entrenched in Night City, probably using the ports to smuggle in drugs and the like.

That said, Josue Mondragon wasn't a Nomad anymore, he might have the knowledge and experience of one, and while he loves performing, he wasn't a Rockerboy, more interested in playing older songs rather than composing his own.

That said, Nomads are known for their vehicles, no vehicle is better than a Nomad's, and he has an entire procession behind him of Nomad vehicles he knows how to maintain, repair, and improve thanks to notes left by his predecessors.

Introduce himself, strangle the Mongoose, take down the cartel, and send Arasaka running, in that order.

It's gonna be a bitch and a half, isn't it?

Josue jumps, the memory of a crowd booing him as he played his heart out before it became cheers on his first performance in Night City. The pay was shit, the owner nearly robbed him of the tips, but it was the first time he felt alive ever since his Family were hunted down.

Sighing, he looks at the creation in front of him and smiles in satisfaction. While he couldn't see exact locations, he could see pings of activity in certain areas of those connected to the ORGAS network. AKA, Sangvis Ferri. Parts of a radio scattered along with a broken Techscanner coming together to turn into a portable Doll scanner of Sangvis Ferri, at least. He checks his computer once more and smiles in satisfaction, it seems like the copies are done.

He made a few modifications as Chi, his personal Agent, informs him that the program has been integrated, so if he activated it he could pass as a Sangvis Ferri Doll to those in Sangvis Ferri.

Raising the Scanner, he activates it, as he smiles, a circle pops up as he nods and turns it around, signals appearing as he nods in satisfaction before deactivating it.

He's got a way to evade them, now he needs information, for real this time. Grabbing his weapons, he steps out of the kombi, inspecting the vehicles by hand for anything suspicious or anything, but it was fine as he made his way opposite to his choice yesterday. Instead of going to the wild, he made his way to the road as he followed it. He hums one of the many songs he knows as he reminisces on his time in Night City.

At first, it was simple things, playing in bars and dives, talking to random people with varied experiences and making connections. It all changed once he met a Tech, someone who needed a driver, and a Netrunner who liked his violin. Both of them thought he was a Nomad turned Rockerboy, he didn't see any reason to correct them.

So, he drove them for a pay until he met another Fixer, mid-tier, who hooked him up with a job. Clear out some scavs. Easy. Carefully done, and taking their weapons after he cleared it out.

Then, he overheard someone that needed a vehicle. Not a driver, just a vehicle. That was what changed everything.

So, sliding next to the gonks planning a robbery in broad daylight, he offered his car in exchange for a cut of the profits. The gonks, upgrading to Edgerunners in his mind, not much better, didn't believe that a Rockerboy would have cars.

So, he asked a few favors of the Tech and Netrunner and had the Tech inspect the cars themselves while the Netrunner checked their soft. It took a lot of haggling, but Josue was good, charismatic, and tactical.

After being given a report on which ones worked and which ones didn't, he showed them off to the Edgerunners, and after some more bartering, the line was signed and they performed the job.

His car was shown on the news in Night City as he played the violin with Max, the Netrunner willing to part with a cyberdeck, poor-quality, but it opened up a lot of options for the budding Fixer.

Of course, Sergeant, the Tech, being the old-war veteran he is and struggling to make ends meet, agreed to stick with Josue as long as he could continue working and Josue had no problem with that.

His reminiscing is put on hold as he sees a group of armed individuals as the two look at each other. It's a good thing he knew Russian among other variations of the language. "Hello." He says, raising a hand as the group looks at each other in confusion.

"Er...hi? Who are you?" One of them asks behind a gas mask.

"Just a Nomad, say, know any pree- I mean, know where the nearest cell tower is at choom?" With a wry grin, he asks, trying to not let the slipup bother him.

The group simply looked at him strangely before someone answered, "In that direction." He says, pointing at a building. "But why would you want to know that?"

"Need a few things, wanna see if I can get them there." He answers as he heads in that direction. "Stay safe, have a nice day." He says, humming a strange song as the three feel a dawning feeling course through them.

"Isn't there a Sangvis Ferri group over there?" One of them asks as none of them answers.

There is, in fact, a Sangvis Ferri outpost, but, honestly? He doesn't care. He has a lot of weapons, some of them can be seen as 'Iconic' and he has enough ammunition for each and every one of them.

He checks his magazine of the M-2012, nodding as he slips the magazine loaded with EMP bullets, expensive but needed for what he's planning. Still, time to try out the new Program.

With a thought, he can feel the change, as he can see a sniper's glint before looking away, not seeing anything wrong with a clearly male individual entering a very important building while 'feeling' like one of them. A Jaeger if the files are correct.

Whatever.

Seems like there's a time limit as he deactivates it and hides behind a rock. Spotting some old cameras as he can't wait to look through them.

Well…

Internally, he can feel his blood boiling, considering his last fights were against Adam Smasher and then all of the Calmecac while others destroyed their system. He almost wants to go over there and see if he can make them shit their pants like he did.

… That's probably the Cyberpsycho talking though. Even if he isn't a borg, Josue still has a lot of Chrome in him, far more than most others and of better quality, not to mention the trauma to back it up. Of course, unlike most people, he doesn't dope on Immunosuppressants, instead, he cries about it like a bitch while drunk. Therapy too.

Still, that's neither here nor there.

Pinging the area, he smiles.

Eighteen with a place to jack in inside.

He twirls his Malorian in his hand as he pulls back the slide slightly, revealing the absolute monster rounds the gun uses before he lets the slide close as he slips the gun into its holster and grabs his M-2012 instead.

The first Vespid that saw him raised her gun and fired, but Josue crouched, aiming his M-2012 as he fired back in bursts, the first one causing red coolant to spray as a chunk of her head fell off. Sergeant was a soldier before being a Tech, and god be damned if his lessons didn't help Josue.

He dashes to the side, instinct leading him to the Jaeger as he throws a grenade, aiming as he shoots a few more rounds, a few ricocheting off the railing as the EMP rounds cause her to stiffen as the grenade lands at her feet, blowing up a second later.

"Yeah!" Josue yells, a savage grin on his face. "C'mon ya Chromeheads!" He yells, his Personal Agent connecting to his Music player as music begins to play. The sound of a piano playing rang out as he made his way to the front door. Let's have a bit of fun.

He bobbed to the song, as the song continued and Ol' Dirty Bastard's voice rang out as he began to rap. "Shimmy shimmy yam, shimmy yam, shimmy yay~." He muttered as he bobbed to the song, as more and more of the Dolls came, leaving sixteen as he. Rolls away from the lasers that followed, blindly firing as the EMP rounds caused those that were hit to spaz as they took cover as he reloaded, this time firing normal rounds as those still standing found themselves torn from the gunshots.

Three down, thirteen more.

They peek out from cover and move forward as the lasers glance off his armorjack as he fires from cover. Nailing those peeking in their head as their heads either lost a chunk or they fell back, lifeless.

Throwing a flashbang, he sees them try to run from the area only to run towards his range as he fires, nailing them until they are either limping or dead as he reloads a second later.

He runs, shifting his hand as he feels the cyberware in his legs shift as he jumps high, higher than is possible as he extends a hand.

A second later, the hand flew out, grabbing onto the railing as he ran up and got to the higher ground in a second. Aiming and firing at the Dolls still on the ground. Lasers nearly take his head as he crouches and takes a breather to scour the area.

Eight still around and his reckless actions are bringing more.

That's fine.

He fires off more, hitting them with deadeye accuracy and experience, they try to move away so that he's shooting at the cover rather than them behind cover.

The sound of feet and a Chyron pop-up inform me of reinforcements.

He peeks to see them aiming at his location as he goes prone, their lasers glancing off the wall as he extends a hand and it pops off at the wrist, catching the edge as it drags him forward as he throws a grenade in the area, scattering the reinforcements before firing at the remaining Dolls. Standing up, he throws his shoulder against the door and enters as he grabs some tape, string, and grenade.

The Dolls come together as they enter the building, only to duck as gunshots converge in their area as they fire back, except for every laser that nearly hits him, their heads splatter the floor as they try to go through different areas.

They don't notice the string attached to the outside of the doorknob and open it, filing in as a few seconds later, the grenades go off, taking them out or leading them to two more grenades, taped and primed to blow after the first explosion.

The reinforcements culled, he decides to finish it, twirling the Malorian on one hand and aiming, it rings out five times and the dolls are dead, none surviving as the music dies down. Reloading the Malorian, he slips it into his holster and slings his M-2012 over his shoulder as he begins his trek upwards.

That was easy.

After a quick detour where he destroyed the jammer, he jacks into the satellite as he smiles, sending the data to Tlaloc and subtly slipping a pre-chosen 'history' close enough to his actual story that there'd be no confusion.

Just a Nomad looking to make some cash with some really good vehicles and some really strange things to say.

He got a glimpse, but a lot of it… Well…

It wasn't good. Even by Night City standards.

Jacking out, he sighs as he makes his way down the building to see the trio entering, almost as if in shock as he raises a brow. "Hey!" He calls, the three turning their guns in his direction before pausing as he brandished his Malorian, waving at them. "What are you three doing here?"

They seemed shocked, doubly so as he jumped down an unprecedented height and simply grunted like he stumbled instead of jumping down a height that'd kill normal people. He slips his hands into his jacket as he walks up to them, the three glancing to each other as he does the same.

"You…" The first, the leader and the one that pointed him in this direction. "What's your name?"

"Well," He starts, scratching his cheek with a slight tint on them, "they called me 'Tiger' back where I'm from. It's a bit embarrassing in hindsight." He admits before continuing, "But Josue works too."

He walks over to the Dolls as he begins picking up the weapons. "I'd suggest against that." Another one of them says as Josue pauses and turns to him. "Sangvis weapons don't work unless it's the Dolls."

"Hmmm." Josue hums, looking at the energy weapon before turning to the man, daring grin in place, "Wanna bet?"

With that, Josue gets their help in transporting anything of worth to his home, the Russian guards reporting the situation quickly through their comm before helping.

A holographic screen comes to life in front of Squad 404, the few cosmetic injuries they gained are fixed by their mechanic as the person on the other side begins. "Squad 404, I believe you already have experience with the phenomenon otherwise known as Hellhound?"

"Is that what we're calling it?" UMP 45 asks, almost amused, "How original."

The woman ignores the leader's snarky retorts and continues, "There have been similar reports across Griffin Dolls of similar occurrences happening through Sangvis-controlled lands. As it's… impossible for it to be an act of rebellion, it seems that someone managed to gain access into the Sangvis system and upload a program into it. Your mission is to identify what happened, and if possible, find out how and who did it and bring them into Griffin's fold."

"Hold on." UMP 45 interjects, "Do we even have any clues? The Sangvis' systems were fried when I went to check. If this was an attack on the Sangvis system, the target might as well be dead, not to mention in the middle of Sangvis-infested lands."

"I know." The woman confirms, "our own experts," she says, UMP 45 clicking her tongue under her breath derisively, "haven't been able to find anything. Which is why this is a long-term mission, find information, or the person, bring them to Griffin, and you'll be paid depending on what you bring. That is all unless you have any questions."

"...No." UMP 45 relents as the screen cuts and she huffs. Leaning back on the ruined chair within the abandoned warehouse they're using as a base. She leans back further and looks to the ceiling. While they're not strapped for cash yet, she doesn't believe she can dupe Griffin for long, and not without repercussions.

At least they're not expecting an immediate answer, just to find information on a hacker that is probably deep in Sangvis territory and managed to cook up a program that can hurt Sangvis Ringleaders.

Only a step below a suicide mission. Which is a bit too comforting.

Now, how to break it to her team…

Within the week, areas would experience spikes of energy, a man, a Solo, would stumble out of a library. A bar would appear in a Green Zone. The only similarity? The generator on their vehicle or home is similar to the one Josue had.

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Josue is a character I'll be using in Neon Knights, they're basically the same, went through the same things, but the 'how' changes since this Josue became a Fixer and the other became a Tech which caused more changes.

I believe I'd said all I've needed, now, let me give you a list of Josue 'Tiger' Mondragon's cyberware.

Reinforced Cybereye(with Hardened Shielding).

Internal Cyberdeck.

Skin Weave.

Synthskin*(Both arms)

Skinwatch*

Reinforced Cyberarm(Left arm with Realskinn over Hardened Shielding)

Reinforced Cyberlegs(Both with Realskinn over Hardened Shielding

Internal linear frame(Right arm)

Subdermal Grip(Right hand)

Interface Plugs.

Enhanced Antibodies(Permanent, don't cause Humanity Loss)

*Fashionware doesn't cause Humanity Loss.

Keep in mind, Josue is a Fixer, he could have paid a Tech to make the Humanity Loss a lot less. He also has a high Humanity stat and, remember, somewhere between Cyberpunk Red and 2077 rules so I'm playing kinda arbitrary here.

I think I've said all I've needed. If you have any questions or notice something, don't be afraid to PM me. I hope you enjoyed it anyway and here's hoping GFL 2 is successful.