Chapter 8: Operation-2
Flames burst from the muzzle of Kay's pistol, spiral bullets howling through the wind-blown night.
The moment he fired, he knew.
That burly Scavenger... was already dead.
The recoil was brutal—sharp pain flared in Kay's right hand, splitting the flesh at the base of his thumb. But he gritted through it, refusing to let go. His grip remained firm, the pistol steady.
Then came the explosion.
The burly Scavenger still hunched behind his weapon, completely unaware of the death headed his way. In the next second, his head burst like a melon under pressure, blood and bone spraying in a mist. He collapsed where he stood.
"Boss!"
"Shit—he's down!"
"Enemy attack—scatter!"
Kay didn't flinch. The pain in his hand meant nothing. He had one goal now: finish this mission and earn the title Cybernetic Pioneer.
Sasha's cyberdeck had nearly finished uploading the reboot command to disable the enemy's optics.
Kay slung his pistol and raised a modded rifle instead, lining up his shots with preternatural focus.
Three Scavengers scrambled in panic. Too slow.
With clinical precision, Kay landed shots straight through their skulls—each bullet tracing a shimmering arc through the night air. Bone shattered. Bodies hit the floor.
Then came Sasha's voice in his neural feed.
> "System override complete. Enemy optics disabled."
The three Scavengers lay wide-eyed, staring at nothing—blind even in death.
> "Ping—Revenge objective complete. 24/24 Scavengers eliminated."
"Reward unlocked: Talent — Cybernetic Pioneer."
"Progress: 2/100%. Unlocking higher levels grants unique enhancements."
Kay exhaled.
> "Kay: Start cleanup. We're done here."
> "Sasha: Operation complete. Looks like you're gonna be busy for a while, huh~? I'll catch you later, Kay... or should I say, Dr. Kay."
---
Inside the den, Riko Vega and the others were sweeping the rooms for loot.
Not long after, Riko called Kay over.
They stood in a rusted-out room that looked like a butcher's dungeon. Three corpses were strung up on iron hooks—limbs dangling, torsos slashed open.
"Kay... man... these guys still have all their implants. They didn't even get stripped," Riko said, eyes wide.
Kay approached and inspected the bodies.
"Ears torn from their piercings... tattoos of Santa Muerte... These guys were Valentinos."
Riko looked stricken.
Clearing out a Scav hideout was one thing. But now they'd stumbled into Valentinos territory—and with dead members, no less.
"It's fine," Kay said calmly. "They weren't executed. Looks like they were taken during a scuffle or ambushed while high. Either way, it wasn't us who did it."
Kay turned to Riko and added, "Actually, you know what? You go. Take these three to the Wild Coyote Bar in Heywood. Give 'em to either Mama Welles or Father Ibarra. They'll know what to do."
Riko nodded, still uneasy.
"Also, tell the others to bag the rest of the bodies in the op room. We'll store them in cold stasis—take them back later."
Kay moved into the operating room, dragging a Scavenger's corpse onto the surgical table. With practiced hands, he activated the ripperdoc tools.
This wasn't a normal dismantling. No patients. No screams.
Just corpses—and implants ripe for salvage.
One by one, Kay removed optics, dermal wiring, skeletal reinforcements. He worked methodically, unfazed by the blood and stench. The others around him watched in disturbed silence.
Two hours later, he handed the last bag of parts to a crew member at the door.
If they didn't strip these bodies, someone else would. Better the loot go to the crew than get flipped on the black market by another Scav team.
And Kay was a ripperdoc. He could repair and upgrade the gear—or sell it off to gangs who paid top euro.
No guilt. No hesitation.
If anything, this was community service.
Unfortunately, most of the implants were junk—nothing military-grade or high-end. Still, a decent haul.
Kay slumped into the seat of the vito van and let himself breathe. The van was theirs now—one more prize from the Scavs.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Beep-beep-beep...
Kay answered with a groggy grunt, "Yeah?"
A gravelly voice responded, calm but firm. "Heh. My name is Sebastian Ibarra... or as some know me—Father."
Kay's eyes narrowed. Riko must've already made the delivery.
"Father Ibarra, fixer of Heywood," Kay said. "Call me Kay."
"I know you. Heard you brought back three of our boys from the Scav den. Not a job, but still thoughtful. You Easterners have a saying, right? Something about leaves returning to roots…"
He chuckled.
"You and Riko Vega—good people. Come visit Heywood sometime. First drink's on me."
They exchanged some small talk. Then the call ended.
Moments later, Kay's bank pinged.
> Incoming: 2,000 euros.
Memo: From the families of the fallen. For your trouble.
He stared at the screen a moment, then leaned back, his gaze lost in the city lights outside.
The streets shimmered neon blue and pink as the vito rolled through the dark.
Back at the hideout, Riko finally returned—bruised and bloody.
"What the hell happened to you?" Kay asked.
Riko scratched his head awkwardly. "I pulled up outside the Wild Coyote... and this dude with a top knot just slugged me."
Kay blinked. "Did you say anything to him?"
"I just told him I was there to drop something off for Mama Welles. He looked inside the van... and bam! Decked me."
Kay smirked.
"That was probably Jackie. And you deserved it."
"Anyway, good timing," Kay said, standing up. "Grab the others. We're heading back to sweep the rest of the hideout. Whatever gear those Scavs left behind—we're taking all of it."
He cracked his knuckles and added, "If we wait too long, NCPD's gonna show. I don't need that kind of headache tonight."