Chapter 28 – Priest
"So this is our next mission?"
Arasaka Yuto frowned at the briefing—barely a hundred words long. He wondered if he'd joined the team too soon.
> Anthony Gilchrist
Male.
Military Technology has issued a 500,000 eddies bounty.
Authenticity of photo unknown.
Last seen two weeks ago at an abandoned factory.
That was it.
"Without Sandayu Oda, gathering intel might be tough." Arasaka Yuto glanced at the others, cautious.
"This is a test from the Captain," Nova Li replied. As the one who accepted the mission, she understood the true purpose behind it.
"You really think you're part of this team?"
Those words silenced both Takumi Kai and Arasaka Yuto. Integrated? Maybe. Ash always brought them in on missions, and they got their cut. But outside of that?
They barely interacted. They didn't understand Ash's thoughts—or his strength. They were like children following rules set by adults.
Was life easy? Sure. But couldn't someone else do it?
No. Not really.
They were talented—compared to average people. Like students accepted into elite academies—top-tier locally, but still far from the top.
Their skills made regular people look ordinary. Ash's skills made them look ordinary.
Before joining the team, Takumi, Nova, and Yuto all thought they could lead a crew. But reality slapped them on day one.
> "Sniper record at two kilometers? That's it?"
"You lost to a neural-linked bot with a basic network capsule?"
"Still reading manuals to fix unfamiliar cars?"
Ash had called them "a bit better than trash."
It stung—but they couldn't deny it. They lost. Every. Single. Time.
That's why they were never involved in Ash and Sandayu's day-to-day ops. Most jobs came from fixers and were handed to the newcomers.
What others saw as high-stakes thrills were just practice missions—designed to train them, build cohesion.
Entrusting them with a major op? Not happening. Ash had no interest in babysitting failure.
This million-ed job was the first step toward real acceptance. Full trust? That would take performance—results.
"The more pressure we handle now, the closer we are to standing on our own," Nova said seriously. "Only then can we be considered part of the core."
Everyone fell silent—except Tanaka.
Tanaka didn't talk much. Partly his nature, partly his contempt.
Yeah—he looked down on them.
He was the third member to join Ash's team and knew how insane the early grind was. Missions stacked endlessly. As long as he could move, he was deployed.
They even had dry spells where clients ran out of work. That's how fast Ash and his original crew rose. The pace was brutal.
Ash's success wasn't just skill—it was obsession. Like a gamer clearing side quests before touching the main story. He was a corpo dog, but also a legend in the merc scene.
The team grew, and workload dropped. Ash didn't want to risk things with rookies. He'd rest between missions now, do post-mortems.
Before? He'd just brute-force it. No debriefs, no downtime.
"Back then, our missions were against street gangs. Now, we're hitting megacorps—Biotech, Militech." Nova's voice was steady. "We're starting to be noticed."
Arasaka Yuto didn't mention the Arasaka incident.
Ash hadn't told the team. In his mind, they weren't ready for that level. If Yuto hadn't been involved personally, he wouldn't have known either.
Why Ash kept secrets, Yuto didn't know. All he could do was stay silent.
Ash hated being contradicted.
"Takumi. You Dou. You're up," Nova said, glancing at the two newest members.
You Dou was like Ash—jack-of-all-trades, adaptable.
But Ash's brilliance drowned out You Dou's potential.
"The fixer handling this zone is the Priest. He's solid—good for jobs and information," You Dou said, scrolling through his comms.
"Great. Let's go," Nova said. "Let's use this 500k bounty to prove we're more than just baggage."
---
Heywood District – Valley Zone, Underground Black Boxing Arena
The announcer's voice echoed as two fighters stepped into the octagon—one a hulking brute of muscle and metal, the other lean with eyes like razors.
They were hardened warriors—veterans of countless brawls.
The gong rang. The fight began.
Spectators—draped in synth-leather, LED tattoos, chrome limbs—watched with hungry eyes, clutching bet slips.
Murderous glares collided in the ring. No rules. No time limit. Just survival.
The muscular brawler unleashed a torrent of crushing blows. His fists pounded the lean fighter, landing like steel mallets.
But the lean fighter danced—dodging, weaving, waiting for an opening.
The match dragged on. Both were bleeding, battered, gasping.
A victor was close.
With a roar, the brute charged—final flurry. The lean fighter tried to sidestep—but a heavy punch crashed into his skull.
He dropped, limp.
The crowd erupted. Fireworks cracked. Bets paid out.
The loser was dragged away. His backers cursed and tossed their slips.
Sebastian Ibarra—known on the street as the Priest—watched calmly from his seat nearby. A cigarette dangled from his lips.
He exhaled smoke, then turned to Arasaka Yuto.
"Need something, kid?"
Yuto nodded, bowed slightly.
"Father, we'd like your help. Would you be interested?"
The Priest grinned. "Talk."
Yuto handed over a photo of Anthony Gilchrist.
The Priest's expression shifted.
"This guy's not ordinary."
"That's why we came to you."
The Priest thought. "Fifty thousand."
Yuto's smile faded. "That's a joke, right?"
Usually, info like this cost a few thousand—maybe ten grand tops. Fifty was extortion.
"I'm not joking," the Priest replied coolly. "Corporate targets don't come cheap."
"Not that expensive." Yuto narrowed his eyes. "I know the rates."
"Trust me, kid—he's worth it. To you, especially."
Yuto hesitated, then gritted his teeth. "Thirty thousand. I want the latest data."
The Priest agreed instantly.
Yuto cursed himself. Played.
"Old fox. I hope your info's worth the price," he said.
"Trying to teach me my trade?" The Priest raised an eyebrow.
"No. Just quoting our Captain: 'Don't fear spending eddies—fear wasting them.'"
"Your Captain's wise."
"We also say—wasting is fine. As long as we take it back later," You Dou added. "Killing's just a blink away."
The Priest's eyes narrowed—then eased.
"I stand by it. The info's worth it," he said.
Yuto dropped 30,000 onto the table.
"Well?" he asked.
"You're too late," the Priest replied. "Military Technology already has him. Meredith Stout caught him."
"I see." Yuto nodded. "Thanks. Hope we work together again."
As he turned to leave—
"Interested in a job?" the Priest asked.
Yuto paused. "What kind?"
"There's a guy. Gustavo Orta. I need his head."
"Why?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not important. But necessary."
"He's Valentinos. His girl—Martha—her dad's Six Street."
"Two gangs that hate each other. Classic Romeo-Juliet setup."
"She got caught in a turf war. In ICU now—probably won't make it. Her dad, Nolan, wants revenge."
"Got it. Personal."
"Nolan's the client. We don't ask more than we have to."
"Send me the file," Yuto replied after a moment.
"Do it quick. He only has one head."
Yuto left. The Priest lit another cigarette and pulled out his burner.
"Someone was asking about Anthony Gilchrist today. I'll send you their contact. Might be corporate."
He hung up and turned back to the ring.
The next match had already begun.
---
Back with the team, Yuto found Nova Li deep in thought.
"How was it?" he asked.
Nova looked up. She understood the question: Could the Priest be trusted?
Fixers usually had integrity—reputation was everything.
But Ash taught them: suspect everyone outside the team. Always.
The intel was probably legit. But it wasn't good news. If Militech had Gilchrist, the bounty was as good as gone.
At least the Priest offered a kill contract. Their bread and butter.
"Let's shelve Gilchrist for now," Nova said. "Focus on this job."
She glanced around. "Is this our first mission with just the four of us?"
Usually, the whole crew moved together. But Ash and Sandayu were off the grid.
They had no choice.
"Let's move," Yuto said, sending the mission file to the others' comms.
> Target: Gustavo Orta
Affiliation: Valentinos
Threat Level: Minor
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