The scavenger leader arrived too fast for thought. David hauled Gloria off the operating chair, shoved her behind the nearest cover, and braced himself between her and the blast. The room shuddered. The detonation lifted him and threw him hard across the tiles. The barrier soaked most of it; Gloria stayed untouched. David did not. Heat and shrapnel raked his back open, and his vision went dark.
The scavenger stepped in to finish it. Rocky moved first. He crossed the space in a blink, caught the leader's weapon hand, twisted the muzzle in, and jammed it between the man's teeth. A single sound cracked the room; the leader's skull burst, and red mist cut across the lights. Rocky had already slid aside to keep his suit clean. Lucy took in the wrecked decomposition room and exhaled, helpless at the mess. "You could have avoided this," she said. Rocky smiled.
"I had to let him take a hit. He won't die." She glanced at him. "You're looking out for him."
"Call it special attention," Rocky said. Lissandra hadn't missed the leader; Rocky had asked her to purposely hide that marker from David. David's "tutorial" needed a stumble. It would tame his arrogance and force the spine he would need later.
The den fell quiet. Every hostile lay down for good. Rocky crouched by David. Even unconscious, the kid still curled over Gloria to shield her. Burns puckered across his back; at the deepest point, pale vertebrae showed through. Ugly, but survivable. It also fit the next step of Rocky's plan. "Lucy, give me a hand." Together, they carried Gloria. Rocky hoisted David, loaded them both into the Deluxo's back seat, and drove straight for the clinic in Japantown. The slaughterhouse behind them was no longer his concern.
At the clinic, Rocky checked Gloria first. Stable. No real damage. She would wake soon. Then he shifted David onto the operating chair and ran a quick scan. Not catastrophic, but the blast had nicked spinal nerves. Leave it unrepaired and paralysis might follow. "Perfect," he murmured, meaning the opportunity, not the injury. He pulled a bundled implant from David's black bag: the Sandevistan that had originally belonged to Maine. Installed now, it would bridge the nerve gap and give David the speed a mercenary needs to even stand in Night City. Anything more advanced could wait. Until David stood under his banner, Rocky would not overinvest. And Sandevistan did not even cost him to part with.
He split skin along the spine and started the install. The knife's chill traced David's back; pain dragged him up from the blackout with a torn shout. "Ah!" "Hold still. No screaming. You're injured. I'm operating," Rocky said, voice even in his ear. The sound anchored David. He forced his head to the side. Gloria lay nearby, breathing easy. The room looked nothing like that black clinic. Relief gave him something to push against; he set his teeth and rode the pain.
In short order, Rocky seated the Sandevistan and sealed the ports. He flushed and dressed the other wounds; they would heal with time. "Done. Sit up." David pushed himself upright. The burn throb dulled to a manageable heat; another sensation bloomed under it, a presence on his back that answered when he reached for it. "What happened?" he asked, still clearing the fog. "A scavenger's shot tore your back and clipped the spinal nerves," Rocky said. "To keep you from ending up paralyzed, I installed a Sandevistan." "Sandevistan? The one that boosts neural response and makes the world feel slow?" David remembered the flash and the impact. He had expected pain. He had not expected this. As a black-braindance fan, he had tasted secondhand Sandevistan in sims. He had always wanted the real thing. He did not wait for Rocky's answer. He tried to activate it.