[Mr. Hands: A, your call came even later than I expected.]
[A: Planning to set up in Dogtown, had to secure some funds first.]
[Mr. Hands: I'm guessing it was you who hit Biotechnica yesterday?]
[A: You're well-informed.]
[Mr. Hands: Mostly because the city's heavy hitters are all known quantities.]
[A: Alright, won't waste your time, Mr. Hands. I'd like to ask if you can secure me a safe, sufficiently large base in Dogtown for our operations?]
[Mr. Hands: In Dogtown? Not exactly prime real estate for settling down. Truth be told, NUSA has eyes everywhere here. Hansen's lackeys would love to collect rent on every inch of this place. Plus, there's all sorts of riffraff, criminals who flee to Dogtown after causing trouble in Night City.]
[A: I like places with a little chaos. Somewhere corps won't just knock on the door uninvited. Anyone who wants to cause trouble for me will have to prove they've got what it takes.]
[Mr. Hands: I like confident folks like you. But hey, isn't this a coincidence? I happen to know a spot that'd suit you perfectly, discreet, low-key, but full of surprises.]
[A: A place that good, and you're just handing it over?]
[Mr. Hands: Of course not for free. But as a gesture of goodwill, why don't you come down to Dogtown first and take a look at what I've got in mind? If it meets your standards, then we can discuss terms. Business is business... gotta let you see what you're buying before you willingly make an offer, don't you think?]
[A: You can give me the broad strokes first.]
[Mr. Hands: It's a regular warehouse, or at least, it looks that way. Covers about three to four hundred square meters, but the real gem is the basement, just as spacious, if not more. At first glance, it's just storage, but it's got an independent backup power system for outages, a full ventilation setup, and the walls are absurdly thick, fortress-grade standards. Plus, the basement has a separate emergency exit that links to Dogtown's sewer system. If you're willing to put in the work to clear that passage, you could even use those sewers to travel underground from Dogtown all the way to Pacifica. Only catch is the location's a bit remote, southwest edge of Dogtown, near the high walls and close to Scavenger territory.]
[A: Doesn't sound like something just thrown together.]
[Mr. Hands: Back during the Metal Wars, Dogtown was full of structures like this. This particular one doesn't belong to Arasaka, NUSA, or even Night City.]
[A: The Cubans'? Their favors don't come cheap.]
[Mr. Hands: You're well-informed too, A.]
[Mr. Hands: But you guessed right, the Cubans'. They had the same idea as Hansen initially, but missed their window due to some... unforeseen circumstances. Though, if you're willing to align with me, I'm sure my Cuban friends wouldn't mind parting with a building they have no immediate use for.]
Mercer didn't reply immediately, instead taking a moment to think. Mr. Hands' intention to extend goodwill was quite evident. He wanted to directly recruit him onto his own team to work.
On one hand, this showed that Mr. Hands truly had no capable people at his disposal.
On the other hand, it also made clear Mr. Hands' implication; by accepting his favor, Mercer would, at the very least, have to refrain from dealing with Hansen regarding matters in Dogtown. If necessary, he might even have to handle some dirty work for the Cubans.
Was it worth it?
After a moment of contemplation, Mercer sent a message to Mr. Hands.
[A: I won't be staying in Dogtown forever. It's just a stepping stone for me.]
[Mr. Hands: Then at least while you're in Dogtown, I assume you won't refuse my commissions. The jobs might be troublesome, but the pay will never be short. As long as you handle things well, I guarantee Hansen won't dare cause you any trouble. Don't worry, we're practically friends with Hansen now. At the very least, he still needs me to find people to handle certain troubles, to network on his behalf in Night City, and I need him to provide me convenience in Dogtown.]
[A: Alright, while I'm in Dogtown, I'll stand on your side. Once I leave, for old times' sake, I'm willing to help you with things that aren't too troublesome.]
[Mr. Hands: Straight to the point. It's settled then. No need to worry about rent. For any renovations or workers you need, I can arrange it for you, all at a friendly price.]
[A: I might need you to help me get materials at a discounted price, but I plan to have my own people handle the renovations. I'll just need you to pull some strings to get us the necessary permits.]
[Mr. Hands: No problem. Let's stay in touch. I've sent you the address. I'm sure the warehouse access code won't be an issue for you. Go take a look, and if you're satisfied, we have a deal.]
[A: Then, for starters, get me and my friend a Dogtown pass. I've sent you the relevant personal information.]
Mercer forwarded the identity details processed in Night City, along with V's information.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Barghest's identity verification system likely followed NCPD's approach, using a simple whitelist check. Building a complete household registration database from scratch?
Mercer doubted Hansen had that capability.
Mr. Hands replied in just over ten seconds.
[Mr. Hands: It's all taken care of.]
[A: Thanks. One good turn deserves another; you can start thinking about any urgent jobs that need handling. I'll take care of them while I'm working on the renovations.]
[Mr. Hands: Efficient. I'll hand over a few big-ticket items I've been sitting on. You can complete them at your own pace.]
[A: Looks like I came at just the right time.]
[Mr. Hands: Absolutely. Once you've wrapped these up, I'll invite you to my turf for some tea.]
[A: I'll go check out the new place first. I'll be in touch soon.]
[Mr. Hands: Looking forward to good news from you.]
Mercer ended the communication interface, and V, who had been watching him for a while, asked, "So, how'd it go? Smooth sailing?"
"Pretty much. Let's head to Dogtown and take a look around; see what our future new place is really like."
As he spoke, Mercer started the car and drove straight toward Dogtown.
V gazed out the window. "I've never been to Dogtown before. Hearing you talk it up so much has got me kind of excited, choom."
"I'd advise you not to get your hopes up too high. Aside from the stadium and The Black Sapphire, there's hardly anything worth seeing there."
Mercer paused before adding, "Just think about how run-down Pacifica is. Dogtown is even worse than that."
"Damn, you really know how to kill the mood," V pouted, shaking her leg. "But no way it's worse than the shithole I'm living in now, right?"
Mercer fell into a brief silence.
V's eyes slowly widened. "No way. Seriously?"
—--
As V took in the somewhat dilapidated warehouse before her, the streets filled with nothing but addicts and punks, and the abandoned buildings in the distance overgrown with weeds and vines...
"A, can't we live separately? I mean, my motel isn't that bad, honestly."
V uttered these words with a tone of despair and resignation.
Mercer glanced around, then simply smiled and walked up to the warehouse. The structure looked blocky and plain, with no decorative colors, and its thick concrete walls gave off a heavy, imposing feel.
The entire warehouse had only one window on the east and west sides each, making it easy to imagine how dark and stifling the air inside must be.
At least the electronic lock on the warehouse door was still lit, indicating that power was still functioning normally.
Mercer approached the electronic lock, hands in his pockets, and hacked it open in a second. Pushing open the heavy warehouse door, he revealed nothing but a floor littered with trash.
It seemed some assholes had even camped out here for a while. Graffiti covered the concrete walls, and scattered on the ground were torn mattresses, used needles, and discarded cigarette butts.
No surprise, really. A simple electronic lock couldn't keep out homeless folks curious about whether there might be treasure inside.
Mercer waved a hand to fan away the dust, scanning the area. "At least it's spacious, and the walls are solid."
"This reminds me of prison; don't look at me like that. Anyone who's spent time on the streets has been hauled in by NCPD at least once. I did a stint in a holding cell, and it felt pretty much like this. Just throw in a bunch of mattresses, post some guards outside, and replace the doors and windows with iron bars. Hey, Mercer, if you're into this style, you might as well turn yourself in to NCPD."
V spoke self-deprecatingly, casually kicking aside a soda can. "So this is the dump Mr. Hands found for you? I don't think he's sincere at all! Is he messing with you?"
Mercer, however, remained unfazed and continued pacing around the empty warehouse. Aside from four support pillars, there was nothing but walls, a roof, and those two windows.
Not bothering to figure it out himself, he simply sent a message to Mr. Hands.
[Mr. Hands: You're already there? Don't rush. I'll send you an authentication program. Stand by the leftmost support pillar at the very back, and you'll find the way to open the basement.]
Mercer cautiously received the program via his cyberdeck's virtual drive, ran a security check to confirm it was safe, then executed it and integrated it into his personal authentication.
In the cyberpunk world, everyone has a microchip for personal authentication. It can load various verification programs, including vehicle ID verification, property authentication, and biometric identification, all tied to biological signatures, making them nearly impossible to counterfeit. And when he stood before that load-bearing column, which appeared dull and unremarkable, a patch of wall covering abruptly slid away without warning, revealing a control panel hidden within.
Text appeared on it.
[Identity authentication successful. As no data has been recorded yet, please connect your personal link cable for user permission authentication and program setup.]
"This is impressive. They even used a specially designed cover plate that blocks network signals. It only reacts when a specific authentication signal is recognized by a device running offline, then initiates a connection. The Cubans really put some thought into this," Mercer remarked in admiration.
V's eyes lit up. "Whoa, what is this? A secret base switch?"
"Pretty much," Mercer replied, glancing at the text on the screen. Following the prompt, he unplugged the data cable from his hand and connected it.
Soon, the built-in program authenticated Mercer's personal information and transferred control of the entire warehouse to him.
There weren't many things he could control, just the ventilation system, the power control system, and a hidden floor trapdoor leading underground.
Mercer turned to look, and a section of the floor suddenly slid open, revealing a spacious staircase wide enough for two people to descend side by side.
"I was hoping for an elevator," Mercer said with some disappointment. He thought the NUSA agents' hidden elevator setup was much cooler.
"Holy shit! This is so awesome, A! It's just like a spy movie!" V was no longer complaining. Without waiting for Mercer to say anything, she bounded over to the staircase entrance to take a look.
"I'm going down first!"
Without another word, V charged inside.
Mercer's mouth twitched, but he didn't rush. Instead, he kept his connection active and ran a thorough scan of the entire hidden authentication program system, checking every line of code.
He didn't want to go down only to find the door locked behind him.
Better safe than sorry!
Ah, he envied the bliss of those with 6 Intelligence who didn't have to overthink things.
After spending a few minutes scrutinizing almost every piece of data and confirming that the door control permissions were in his hands, Mercer slowly made his way down.
By then, V was already excitedly exploring the underground space.
"Look, A! There's an independent generator, water storage tanks, and an automatic water purification system! They even pre-installed plumbing, though there's no toilet yet. And there's a computer and a small server! Wow, A, this place is really something! There's even central air conditioning! My god, with a little renovation, aside from the lack of sunlight, this could be exactly like a secret base from a spy movie!"
She waved excitedly at Mercer, gesturing around. "Look, these water pipes even have pre-laid connections; they must link up to the city's water supply! This place has to be at least five or six hundred square meters, right? The upstairs is another three or four hundred. This spot is really great!"
"Not comparing it to your holding cell anymore?" Mercer couldn't help but laugh.
"Ugh! I didn't know there was such a huge space down here!" V retorted stubbornly. "It's not that great anyway. Renovating this place would cost a fortune, wouldn't it?"
"At least the rent is free for now. With some basic cleanup, a few concrete walls for partitions to separate the functional areas, the rest of the renovation is just a matter of personal preference. It shouldn't cost too much."
Mercer did a quick estimate. A space this large could easily be partitioned into seven 20-square-meter bedrooms. With the cheap labor costs, a simple renovation would likely run about 10,000 eddies per room, including both materials and labor.
He could also set up several specialized workspaces: a server room, a netrunner den for his hacking work, an armory for storing weapons and gear, and a workshop for modifying weapons and cyberware.
He might even have enough space for a large living room.
All of this would probably come in under 100,000 eddies.
Of course, that only covered basic construction and wall-building, not equipment or furnishings.
Still, Mercer wasn't entirely sure about construction speeds in this cyberpunk world, and the basement's working conditions were limited.
As he tallied up his needs, he couldn't help but grimace.
He'd underestimated this. Even without rent, it might take 200,000 to 300,000 eddies just to make the place livable, and who knew how long the construction would drag on.
This was Dogtown, after all. Getting construction work done here probably wouldn't be straightforward.
After a moment's thought, Mercer decided to call Panam.
She picked up the video call almost immediately.
"Whoa, where are you? Why's it so dark?" Panam was startled by the gloomy background in Mercer's video.
"Dogtown. I wanted to ask; if I hired the Aldecaldos for a renovation job, how much would it cost and how long would it take to turn a space this size into six independent bedrooms with bathrooms, three or four functional rooms, and a living room?"
Panam thought for a moment. "Hold on, let me ask the uncle in charge of this stuff at the camp."
She jogged offscreen, exchanged a few words with someone, then returned. "About ten days."
"That fast? This place is four or five hundred square meters," Mercer said, surprised.
"Two days max for plumbing and electricity, two days for partitions, another two for painting and tiling, then just moving in whatever you need to install. Ten days is already accounting for potential delays," Panam explained with a laugh. "Normally, each of those tasks only takes a day."
"You just need to rent a set of professional renovation equipment. There are specialized machinery rental companies in the city."
"What about the cost?" Mercer pressed.
"You'd have to cover the equipment rental yourself. Wall-building and demolition machines usually run about 1,000 eddies a day. If you rent exoskeleton construction semi-armor, it's around 500 eddies per set per day."
"Labor is 50 eddies per day per person. We can get you experienced workers; they're fast." Panam sounded confident. "We've built entire floors in a day before. Modern construction machinery is incredibly efficient. Even with manual labor, using specialized construction armor can achieve that kind of speed."
"But honestly, from what I can see, your place already has a basic structure. You could probably finish all the hard construction for 10,000 to 20,000 eddies. The rest would just be furnishing and decorating."
"Are you at your new place now? Why does it look so dark?"
Feeling a bit boastful, Mercer deliberately panned the camera around to show off the space before heading up the stairs.
Panam sounded surprised. "You got a two-story building?"
"That's not all; that was just the underground base." Mercer used his cybereye to record the footage and showed her the hidden floor switch for the access door.
Panam clicked her tongue enviously. "Not bad at all. Pretty damn cool. How much is the rent? A place this big, even in Dogtown, must run you seventy or eighty thousand a year, right?"
"Didn't cost a thing. Got it for free. Only catch is it's a raw space; renovations and upgrades are on me."
After Mercer finished, Panam grew even more jealous. "Damn, that's sweet! Who hooked you up with this spot?"
"Mr. Hands, of course. Only he could score a hidden location like this."
Then Mercer added, "Why don't you go ahead and reach out to the camp? I'll sync up with Mr. Hands to iron out the details, then loop you in so we can get started. Let's aim to wrap everything up in two weeks so we can move in."
"Alright~ big shot, you're the boss," Panam replied.
"Want me to save a room for you?" Mercer ventured.
Panam hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. "Nah, I'd rather stay at home. I don't mind dropping by yours to hang out sometimes, though. With a place that big, just save me a couch."
"Whenever you come, I'll give you my room; no problem. Honestly, I've gotten kinda used to crashing in my netrunner station these past few days," Mercer said with a laugh. After a bit more small talk, he ended the call and got back to coordinating the renovation plans with Mr. Hands.
Mr. Hands made it clear that once the property was Mercer's, he could do whatever he wanted with it. Even if Mercer eventually left Dogtown, the place would still belong to him. After all, the Cubans had already abandoned it.
If the Cubans ever decided to return to Night City for business, it would mean Hansen was finished, and they'd reclaim The Black Sapphire to reestablish themselves as the rulers of Dogtown. In that case, a derelict warehouse would be the last thing on their minds.
You had to admit, Mr. Hands was incredibly generous to Mercer. Without even discussing any deals, he'd outright gifted him a massive property.
Even though most real estate in Dogtown was practically worthless, long abandoned and left for anyone to trash, the gesture itself was still deeply appreciated.
Wrapping up their conversation, Mr. Hands gave Mercer a contact, a manager at a construction company based in Pacifica that he knew personally. They could handle all the building materials and equipment rentals, and would offer a friend's discount on pricing.
As for Barghest checkpoints, that wasn't an issue either. Mr. Hands would send Mercer a batch of temporary passes. All he had to do was keep them in his vehicle and show them to the Barghest guards at the checkpoints.
He even enthusiastically added that if Mercer had any friends who needed permanent passes, he could just send their personal details over, and Mr. Hands would take care of the rest.
Even Mercer, who'd always been a little skeptical of Mr. Hands, found himself sincerely saying thank you. This was a favor he'd have to repay someday.
After scanning and recording the building specs with his cybereye, Mercer returned to the Aldecaldos with V.
He consulted with the clan's construction expert, then brought them along for a site visit to Dogtown to assess the space in person.
Back at the warehouse, Mercer and the Aldecaldo specialist discussed renovation plans and settled on a rough blueprint based on the expert's recommendations.
After that, Mercer handed off all the details, purchasing materials, equipment rentals, transportation, and so on, to the Aldecaldos' professionals to negotiate with the company. He knew nothing about the architectural market in the cyberpunk world. Professional matters were best left to professionals. His role was simply to set the broad direction.
And, of course, the most important task of all; footing the bill.
After receiving a payment of 100,000 eurodollars, the Aldecaldos assured Mercer that with a crew of twenty workers at a discounted daily rate of 40 eurodollars per person, they would complete the entire warehouse renovation and refurbishment within a week.
This pace was incredibly fast, and the price was quite reasonable. In the Cyberpunk universe, even the most basic manual laborer, like a dockworker, only earned about thirty eurodollars a day.
Yes, in the Cyberpunk universe, the monthly salary of an ordinary laborer was just 800 eurodollars. Even skilled workers like the Aldecaldos construction crew now only charged 40 eurodollars per day.
Of course, meals didn't have to be covered, but drinking water was a must. Water resources had always been a major issue in Night City. If one were to buy purified water, a gallon of it cost a steep 99 eurodollars!
During construction, the basement water purification system had to be temporarily shut down. Those workers weren't willing to drink tap water; it could literally be lethal.
Unwilling to take advantage of his chooms, Mercer decided to cover all meal and water expenses during the construction period. He didn't bother with detailed accounting, relying entirely on the foreman's honesty to settle the bills.
Having spent some time in the camp, Mercer knew that the Aldecaldos, especially these workers, were struggling, with very few jobs coming their way.
Since he wasn't short on a few thousand eurodollars, he raised their daily wage to 50 eurodollars, the market rate for outsiders hiring them, so as not to exploit their goodwill.
His only requirement was that they complete the renovation of the entire base as quickly and thoroughly as possible.
Mercer figured that since they were already at it, they might as well overhaul the entire warehouse, including the ground floor. For example, replacing the hidden switch door with a concealed elevator.
He planned to convert the first floor into half living space and half commercial area. He intended to set up a shop selling weapon mods, various chips, and even take on small jobs like cyberware program refreshes and weapon upgrades.
The surface-level shop would also help conceal their true identities and the warehouse's actual purpose, keeping the underground base well hidden.
As long as Mr. Hands and the Aldecaldos workers didn't leak any information, the Kindling Squad could safely hide in their secret base. Even if attacked, enemies wouldn't know they were actually living underground.
In critical situations, they could also use the yet-to-be-cleaned underground sewer pipes for emergency evacuation.
After handing over the renovation work to the Aldecaldos, Mercer finally felt relieved from his busy schedule. He gathered the entire squad at the Afterlife, planning to hold a proper celebration.
On the side, he also intended to discuss matters with Rogue. It felt like a waste to sell the stolen data and intel from Biotechnica only to Wakako. Perhaps Rogue had other connections that could help him earn a bit more.
However, there was one piece of information Mercer kept tightly under wraps.
It was about Joanne's attempt to deceive Militech into investing in a "super-soldier" program by leveraging a virus immunity agent.
The entire interrogation video of Emilia was handed over only to Diana Cuno. This wasn't because Mercer intended to help Biotechnica cover up its dirty secrets. Instead, he intended to remove the part about "Joanne attempting to pitch Militech on funding by promising to develop an immunity agent" before releasing the video to others with connections.
The reason?
Naturally, because Mercer was more than happy to see Biotechnica screw over Militech.
In fact, Dr. Diana might even have to pay Mercer some hush money. The initial investment for this plan had already been sunk, and the scandal was bound to leak. If she couldn't secure any returns at all... She wouldn't just lose her director position; she'd probably be exiled to Antarctica to watch penguins.
Once Militech took the bait, he could go inform them they'd been duped, then cash in big on both intel fees and favors. Perfect, right?
When dealing with corps, you've gotta bleed them dry. If not for scheming, why would Mercer be hiding out in Dogtown?
Besides, Mercer hadn't gotten his hands on the machine he wanted yet. He couldn't let Diana crash and burn too soon.
—--
Nightfall, Afterlife.
When the mercs at Afterlife saw the young Rebecca noisily hopping onto a barstool, their expressions strained to hold back laughter.
What the hell was this?
But when masked Mercer walked in, followed by Lucy wearing a kitsune mask, the mercs all tactfully averted their eyes.
Every merc present knew... how many of them could take down a frenzied Fenrir in under five seconds?
That Cyberpsychosis incident was the only fight to break out in Afterlife in recent years, and it unexpectedly became hot gossip among the mercs there.
It even made Mercer, a newcomer, somewhat of a "celebrity" in merc circles.
Now, with visible cyberware on Mercer's body and his crew noticeably expanded, many got the feeling. Afterlife might be welcoming another soon-to-be-famous new team.
"NiCola?" When Claire behind the bar spotted Mercer, she couldn't help but smile with interest and greeted him proactively.
"Sure, let's have a drink before we find Rogue. She should be just wrapping up."
Mercer replied.
Claire's eyes flicked to his exposed neck. "What's that? Neck cyberware is pretty rare. Or is it just for looks?"
In the Cyberpunk universe, plenty of people mod for aesthetics. Some even plate their entire bodies in silver to look like living metal, calling that style "Kitsch" and treating it as a trend.
The light tattoos on Mercer and Lucy's faces were just among the most common trendy cyberware decorations in this world.
Similarly, the clothes V wears in the game, with LED-lit collars, also fall under street-style Kitsch.
"What I got has to stay confidential. But I'm a netrunner, whatever I install revolves around that. If I had to label it, I'd say I'm classic 'Entropism.' As long as it's functional, I don't really care how it makes me look."
Entropism can be roughly understood as pragmatism, the polar opposite of the style mentioned above.
After finishing his sentence, Mercer paused and chuckled, "As long as my handsome face is still intact, that's all that matters."
"Who knows if you're actually handsome?" Claire teased, glancing at his mask.
Rebecca suddenly perked up and lifted her head, "Well, I think he's handsome, and I like it."
"Wait, what the hell? When did you see it?" V's eyes widened in shock.
Then, V turned to look at Lucy, then Rebecca, then Kiwi, finally exclaiming in disbelief, "Don't tell me I'm the only one who hasn't seen what he looks like?"
"Not exactly. Rebecca took it off when I wasn't paying attention. It's not like I was playing favorites on purpose."
As soon as Mercer finished, V grew agitated, "Bullshit! Don't think I don't know you've got a Synaptic Accelerator installed! If you really didn't want anyone to see, you could've dodged Rebecca ten times over with that speed!"
"The Synaptic Accelerator speeds up my brain, not my body! Just so we're clear, don't you try copying her."
Seeing V's eager expression, Mercer quickly warned her, "You're not a kid anymore."
That seemed to hit a nerve with V. She pouted, glanced at Rebecca, and finally picked up a glass of whiskey with a sullen expression, downing it in one go.
Claire couldn't help but laugh, "You guys have gotten a lot closer, huh."
"Yeah, everyone I brought here today is an official member of my team: V, Rebecca, Pilar, Kiwi, Lucy."
Mercer gestured to the people around him, "Kindling Squad. Sooner or later, our name will be known throughout the Afterlife."
"Kindling Squad, got it," Claire said with a smile.
However, Claire glanced at Rebecca, who was now cheerfully chugging beer, and remarked, "But aren't the people you've recruited a bit too young?"
"They're all reliable. In Night City, reliable people stay reliable, and the unreliable ones never change."
After Mercer finished, Claire fell silent for a moment. She sighed, handed Pilar another drink, and then said, "Do you think... unreliable people can never change?"
"When you ask that question, you probably already have the answer in your heart," Mercer replied simply. "If you truly believed he could change, you wouldn't be asking."
Claire shook her head, "I think he can change for the better."
"I don't think so."
Mercer gave what seemed like a rather arbitrary response. He looked at Claire and said meaningfully, "Don't let past love and gratitude cloud your judgment now. If someone is trapped in the past, they can't face the present, nor can they move toward the future."
Claire stared at him blankly for a while, "How is it that I feel like I haven't said anything, yet you seem to know everything?"
"Some things don't need to be asked too much. You've been rubbing your wedding ring the whole time you were talking. You clearly have doubts about him, but you don't dare trust your own judgment. You'd rather deceive yourself into believing everything will be fine. If someone has to rely on self-comfort to lie to themselves, the reality is often already beyond repair."
After saying this, Mercer finished his NiCola, shrugged, and added, "I'm just an outsider; we're not that close, so I won't say more. You should think it over yourself, Claire. But from my perspective, you're not a bad person, so the problem probably isn't with you. Don't be too hard on yourself."
V listened for a long while before finally grasping what the two were discussing: "Relationship issues?"
"No, we're talking business," Mercer said with complete seriousness.
V was taken aback: "What business? Doesn't sound like it."
"Yeah, doesn't sound like it to me either," Mercer replied before standing up decisively. "I'm going to see Rogue. Enjoy your drink."
V clenched her fist, staring daggers at his back: "Come back later and have a proper drink with me?"
"Sure, I'll have a NiCola," Mercer waved dismissively, striding confidently toward Rogue's booth.
V fumed as she watched him leave, then turned exasperated toward Lucy, who sat quietly masked and silent: "Why's he such an ass? Does he act like this with you too?"
Lucy shook her head: "He jokes around sometimes, but he's not usually this mean."
"Damn it! He's just targeting his V, isn't he? No way... today I'm gonna make him down a bottle!"
V slammed the table in frustration: "Get a bottle! I said bring a bottle of 400 Rabbits! I'm going head-to-head with him today!"
Kiwi interjected softly: "Did you forget last time after downing a bottle? You swore off quick-drinking the next morning. And because of that, Rebecca and Pilar made tens of thousands of eddies off you, then you spent the night alone at home..."
"Stop!" V cut her off hastily, then muttered with self-doubt: "Logically, with my physical condition, my alcohol tolerance should be rock solid, right?"
"Well, your ability to metabolize alcohol is pretty strong," Rebecca chimed in smugly. "You drink fast, process it fast, and get drunk fast."
"Damn, but I sober up fast too!" V grumbled. "Something's off. I need to go ask Vik about this later."
As the group chatted and laughed, Mercer finally caught Rogue after she finished her business.
Brushing past a few unfamiliar mercs, Mercer plopped casually onto the couch in Rogue's booth: "Truly the Queen of Afterlife. Seems like you're always busy."
"If a fixer has nothing going on by 7 PM, I'd say she's probably on her way out."
Unfazed by Mercer's teasing, Rogue took a calm sip from her glass: "Get to the point. Why are you here?"
"It's a data list I pulled from Biotechnica's servers. Each entry is labeled with a name and a brief intro. If you're interested, name your price, and the data is yours."
Mercer used the same pitch he'd given Wakako and handed the list to Rogue.
After a brief scan, Rogue let out a soft chuckle: "So this is the job Wakako sent you on."
"You knew?" Mercer was surprised.
"Mhm. Care to take a guess who hired her for this job?" Rogue said meaningfully.
Mercer's first instinct was to say Arasaka, but after a moment's thought, he gave a completely different answer: "Militech?!"
--------
5500 words.
Bonus chapter @2100 power stones and next one @2400.
More chapters on patreon.com/AstartesTL