Chapter 26: Dynamics of All Parties
"You're going to Pacifica?" Viktor asked, sitting back in his work chair after patching V up.
"Yeah~ Whether it's to find out who ordered Evelyn to steal the chip, to understand their purpose, or just to keep playing along with Judy—I've gotta go," V said as he sat upright.
"That's not a good place to be," Viktor muttered, putting his tools down. "Without a solid contact, they'll have a gun to your head the moment you walk in."
"Dexter gave me a call."
"He had you beaten to a pulp, and you still trust him?" Viktor frowned. He knew how V got those injuries and couldn't help but be concerned.
"At least he didn't kill me," V said, touching his bruised ribs with a grim smile. "Thought I was hiding well, but reality gave me a hard slap."
"Finally catching on a bit, huh? Not a bad thing." Viktor chuckled. "Pain's a great teacher."
"Yeah~ I'll be more careful now. I don't want to die without even knowing why." V made a mental note to get a high-quality disguise kit before heading out.
Ding-a-ling-ling~ Ding-a-ling-ling~
V's communicator buzzed.
"Hello, V." A deep male voice came through the other end.
"Who is this?" V asked cautiously.
"Oh? Didn't Dexter tell you? If you step into Pacifica without my permission, things will go very badly for you."
"You're Mr. Hands—the fixer in Pacifica," V realized quickly.
"Good reflexes," Hands said approvingly. "You're a sharp merc."
"I wouldn't say that. What can I do for you, Mr. Hands?"
"A small job. Do it, and I'll let you into Pacifica. Deal?"
"Let's hear it."
"Kill someone."
"Who?"
"Shobo Jotoro, a member of the Tiger Claws. Take him out, and you're in. I've sent the details."
Beep beep beep~
The call ended abruptly. V scoffed—he wasn't even given a chance to decline. So much for free will at the bottom of the food chain.
Ding~
Mission data arrived.
He tapped to open it, and what he read was shocking.
Extortion. Kidnapping. Murder. Underground boxing rings. Human trafficking. Illegal prostitution rings. Mass production of sex dolls. Drug labs.
Jesus. Every dirty trick in the book.
Well, they are the Tiger Claws. Makes sense.
As one of Night City's largest criminal organizations, the Tiger Claws are primarily composed of Japanese and other East Asian members. They blend Triad and Yakuza elements, operating under a strict hierarchy and code of silence. They're a well-oiled, deeply connected syndicate—and a plague in the eyes of both civilians and the NCPD.
"This is like poking a hornet's nest," Viktor said grimly after reviewing the mission details. "You go after their bottom-feeders, and they'll just keep sending in bigger guns, one after another. If you don't bail fast enough, you're done."
"That's why I need a solid plan." V's face darkened. Provoking the Tiger Claws was no joke. Unlike the chaotic Maelstrom gang, even the low-level grunts in the Tiger Claws had deep ties to their bosses.
If they couldn't be taken down fast and clean, the consequences would be massive.
"Viktor, can you spot me some more eddies?" V asked. "I need more upgrades."
---
Sandayu Oda watched Ash from a distance, notebook in hand, scribbling down what the shop assistant said.
Suddenly, something clicked. She understood how Ash could stay so composed, even after the death of Saburo Arasaka and the defection of Goro Takemura.
Saburo Arasaka might've been powerful, but the real control in Night City belonged to Yorinobu Arasaka now. His father's death would spark political upheaval at the top, sure—but how did that affect the boots on the ground?
No one was going to purge the field agents, especially not in a time when manpower was scarce. Who else would do the dirty work?
Tracking down Goro Takemura? Now that was something within their operational scope. Hence, Ash's presence here.
The shop assistant had reported that someone resembling Goro had dinner here with a woman last night.
To dig deeper, Ash retrieved the restaurant's surveillance footage.
Deleted—of course. But—
"Ash." Sandayu Oda pointed at the monitor.
They really thought deleting it made it unrecoverable? In a world where souls could be digitized, hiding secrets was no longer as simple as emptying a recycle bin.
Takemura wasn't a pro netrunner. Clearing the drive was already pretty cautious for him, and a normal hacker wouldn't have been able to recover it fast.
But Sandayu Oda was far from normal.
Armed with her self-built rig, she was a netrunning powerhouse capable of dancing on the edge of the Blackwall itself.
In under a minute, the drive was populated again.
She scrubbed through the footage from last night.
Seriously, Takemura? Your disguise is just a hat and a change of clothes?
And that—ouch—was V across from him. Beat to hell, face swollen, but still recognizable by facial recognition software.
A shadow operative and a street kid sharing a meal. Historic.
"Sandayu, cut out the parts where Takemura appears alone and send that to HQ. Delete the rest," Ash instructed after a brief thought.
Oda nodded and got to work. Video clipped. Sent. Deleted.
Not long after, she received follow-up orders.
"Well, that's that. Let's go eat," Ash said with a grin, stretching. Slacking off never felt so good.
"Dinner might have to wait," Oda said, checking her messages. "You Dou just sent new orders."
"Dogtown? Investigating Songbird?" Oda frowned. "Is this linked to Saburo's death?"
"Heh~ Arasaka Michiko..." Ash smirked. "She really thinks she found the key player."
According to the message, a hacker intrusion was detected during the Konpeki Plaza incident. Michiko traced it back to a netrunner called "Songbird"—now hiding in Dogtown.
"We're to check it out discreetly," Oda summarized.
"Great. We're being used." Ash's tone was dry.
"Yup," Oda smiled, shutting off her communicator. She knew full well Songbird had nothing to do with Saburo's death. Michiko clearly wanted to use them as pawns.
"Any rewards listed?"
"Ten thousand."
"Ten thousand? For someone President Myers personally put a bounty on?" Ash scoffed. "They really think we're idiots."
"President Myers? Is she that important?" Oda asked, surprised to hear the president of NUSA mentioned.
"Well, long story short: a powerful hacker escaped wanting freedom. Now a full-on military op is probably hunting her down," Ash explained. "She's tangled with Militech. Not our problem—yet."
"Afraid?" Oda teased.
"No~ Just not enough money," Ash said with a faint grin, gazing out at the sun-drenched street. Part of him feared where this road would ultimately lead.
---
Out in the Badlands, an uninvited guest sat across from Dakota.
"Cyrus Weiss! Didn't expect to see you out here," Dakota said warily, eyeing the tall green-haired man in front of her.
Deputy Director of Biotechnica Operations.
"I didn't want to come either, Dakota," Cyrus replied with a twisted grin, flicking away the security guard who had tried to search him. "But I had to make sure someone didn't forget the rules. Tell me, Dakota—do you have a death wish?"
The guard dropped like a puppet with cut strings, dried up like a corpse left in the desert sun.
Dakota's eyes flashed with anger. "This is my turf! Who said you could pull that crap here?!"
"Oh? Who gave you the guts to talk back to me?" Cyrus flicked his coarse, dry green hair aside, revealing vertical pupils glowing coldly beneath.
Dakota immediately looked away. Even so, her blood ran cold.
"Snake Eyes." A legendary ocular implant. Thermal scan. Psychological disruption. Intimidation.
She wasn't actually freezing—the implant was making her think she was. If she hadn't looked away, she would've mentally accepted death, and that would've been the end of her.
"I'll give you credit," Cyrus said with a slow clap. "But really, Dakota—what's the point of being so stubborn? Just give me what I want and go back to being queen of this wasteland."
"Fixers have to stand for something!" Dakota forced herself to stay focused.
Cyrus deactivated his implant and sat casually in her chair, propping his boots up on the table.
"You're missing the point, Dakota. This isn't a request—it's an order. Think about yourself. Your friends. Your clan. You're not alone."
Silence hung heavy. Dakota glanced at her guard's corpse and sighed.
"Ask what you want."
"Anyone try to strike a deal with you recently?"
"Two groups. One was nomads. The other—I couldn't identify."
"Couldn't identify?" Cyrus sat upright, eyes narrowing.
"They were from the city, I think. Two men, one woman. Asian. All young. Very cautious."
She handed over a crushed button-sized listening device. "Gear was high-end. They covered their tracks."
"No surveillance?"
"They had a netrunner who wiped everything. Faces were blurred."
A netrunner? Cyrus slipped the device into his pocket and stood.
"Send me the footage."
Biotechnica had better tech than Dakota's crew. Restoring the visuals would be easy.
"Not every deal's worth taking, Dakota," Cyrus warned as he left. "Be smarter next time. Would be a shame if you got blindsided and didn't even know why."
And with that, Cyrus Weiss vanished into the dust.