Cassidy didn't notice Mercer's gaze. He just sighed and said, "The Wraiths are a bunch of human scum — degenerates cast out by their families and nomad clans. I figure a few of them were expelled from nearby families. They probably knew about this temporary dwelling from back when they were still with them. Our luck wasn't great. These guys were likely active on the nearby highway, too far from their stronghold, and this time the sandstorm was too fierce, so they came here to take shelter.
"It's my fault too. I haven't been out here in so long I forgot to tell you to turn off the lights. If we'd ambushed them in advance, it wouldn't have been this troublesome — two grenades, four guns, and we could've ended it in one encounter."
"It's not your fault. After all, you're just an Old Cowboy who got kidnapped a moment ago," Mercer teased as he and Cassidy tossed the bodies outside.
Dust still raged outside, and the heavily damaged first floor was no longer suitable for resting. It was a shame about that cup of coffee — Mercer hadn't even had a chance to sip it.
"Ha… but you're right," Cassidy admitted with a sigh. "It seems it's not just you kids who need to adapt to the Badlands — me too."
"You look like you've been settled for a long time," Mercer said, turning toward him.
"…Yeah. I was married once. Had children. I thought I could live a stable life. In NUSA, my family and I planned to farm for Biotechnica — early retirement. I hadn't even touched a gun since then. But my child died of illness, and my wife was killed by a landmine while transporting supplies for Militech and NUSA during the war. After I sold our harvest, Biotechnica raised the price of seeds, and we couldn't keep farming. Everything fell apart."
He exhaled deeply. "I wasted some time wandering. A month after leaving home, the Wraiths caught me. And now here I am, almost dragging you kids into it. Maybe I really am old. Maybe after I get you to Night City, I should find a quiet place and wait to die."
Cassidy's expression turned somber. Mercer was silent for a moment, then tossed aside the body he was holding, leaned against the doorframe, and sighed. "You just haven't readjusted yet. In this world, a peaceful retirement is a luxury dream."
"…You're right. It's not time to relax yet," Cassidy said, forcing a faint smile.
Daichi Tetsuya and Leon had already pulled the car to the door. Rosie and Lucy came down from upstairs. Mercer greeted them and prepared to move the rest of the bodies, but Rosie grabbed his arm, her eyes wide.
"What are you doing? You're covered in blood! Sit down. Lucy, get the purified water from the car. Hurry — take off your clothes. You're full of holes. Doesn't it hurt?!"
"I'm fine… Don't pull me around here. Let's go to the bathroom. The living room's uninhabitable — sand's blowing in from everywhere."
Mercer obediently followed Rosie into the bathroom. He took off his filthy jacket and stared at the "Little Hacker" suit in the mirror.
"Damn. I should've changed if I knew it'd get this dirty. The Little Hacker suit's ruined! This thing's worth tens of thousands, right? Tsk… I don't even know if it can be repaired."
"Now's not the time to worry about that!" Rosie pouted. She told him to sit still, then helped pull the suit down to his waist and opened the medical kit from their survival pack. Inside were needles and thread, disinfectant, anti-inflammatory pills, various antibiotics, anti-radiation meds — everything they might need. Rosie moved a stool beside him and began picking small stones from his skin with tweezers.
"Leon, how's your shoulder?" Mercer called out.
"Better than you," Leon replied, pulling open his own Little Hacker suit and gently touching the fabric. "I should've changed too… but the Wraiths' clothes are so filthy…"
"Come here, kid," Cassidy said, walking toward him. "Your muscle's got a hole in it, and Wraith bullets aren't exactly clean. We need to disinfect thoroughly — it'll hurt a bit."
Daichi, who had been nervously hovering, finally sighed in relief. Lucy arrived with the purified water, seemingly wanting to help Mercer but unsure what to do. After a moment's hesitation, she said, "I'll go clean up the battlefield and throw out the bodies."
"I'll come too," Daichi said, and the two of them busied themselves scavenging the house and looting the Wraiths' vehicles.
Mercer, on the other hand, didn't make a sound. He was surprised by his own pain tolerance. Leon, however, was a different story. Upstairs, Cassidy disinfected his wound, and Leon immediately started howling.
"It hurts! Holy shit — ah, ah, ah!!"
Expressionless, Cassidy held him down with one hand, keeping him still. "Bear with it. Learn from your boss."
"It's not the same! If he were poked like this—Ow!!"
Leon's screams made Mercer chuckle until Rosie playfully slapped his back. "Don't move! You're spraying blood everywhere!"
"Alright, alright, Doctor Rosie," Mercer said with a grin, sitting obediently still. Then he noticed Rosie's red eyes.
Before he could speak, Rosie gritted her teeth and mumbled, "Leon deserves it. It's all his fault for saying those unlucky things on the aerocar. He should be taught a lesson." Tears dripped down her cheeks.
"Don't cry. It really doesn't hurt," Mercer said gently.
"I…" Rosie sniffled, her hands still working. "I'm sorry… I didn't help at all…"
"You too?" Mercer shook his head and gently patted her still-damp hair — so much for the shower she'd taken earlier. "You've already done so much. You helped us locate the enemy, provided suppressive fire… If we're counting, your KAD assists in both battles were huge. And now you're treating my wounds. When did you learn all this?"
Rosie pushed his hand back. "Don't move — it's bleeding again. I started learning the day you said we had to leave."
"Hmm, Rosie's been working hard too…" Mercer thought of Lucy's words and decided not to speak to her like a child. Instead, he said seriously, "You've contributed a lot. In every battle, someone might get hurt — or worse. But you can't feel useless just because you weren't injured. If only the injured can claim credit, then what about Daichi? He was driving Leon this time — does that make him a KD 0 carry-dog?"
"Carry-dog… hehe, I'll tell him that later," Rosie said, forcing a cheerful smile.
"If he beats you up, I'm not responsible," Mercer teased, quickly changing the subject to Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon. As expected, Rosie perked up instantly. By the time Mercer's wounds were treated, her mood had returned to normal.
Compared to Lucy — delicate, insecure — Rosie was a true optimist. In this harsh world, her personality was a rare gift.
By around nine that night, the sandstorm finally passed. Cassidy used a portable stove to make a pot of nomad-style canned meat stew. Mercer didn't dare ask what kind of meat it was, but it tasted surprisingly good. After eating and drinking their fill, everyone finally enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep.
The next morning, under Cassidy's guidance, they tidied up the house and resumed their journey. Cassidy contacted local nomads to deal with the Wraiths' bodies and vehicles. He discussed with Mercer how the money from selling the cars should first go toward repairing the house. Any surplus would go into his account and later be split evenly once Mercer had his own.
Mercer agreed. "Just keep a good record, and we'll divide it later."
They drove on, off-roading through Montana — sometimes on the highway, sometimes racing across the Badlands. Cassidy hadn't lied. After a few calls to old friends and some careful route planning, the rest of their trip felt almost like a vacation. They encountered no enemies — in fact, hardly anyone at all. Whenever supplies ran low, Cassidy contacted nomads who reliably delivered food, water, fuel, and other essentials directly into the desert.
Mercer often marveled at their luck. Saving Cassidy might have saved them all — without him, who knew how many problems they'd have faced.
At first, the kids — everyone except Mercer — struggled with insomnia, sleeping uncomfortably in the car. But once they grew used to the starry, windswept Badlands, they adapted quickly. Even in this brutal world, the night sky was breathtaking.
They smelled the fresh scent of post-rain desert air and watched snowflakes dance on rare winter days. In this cyberpunk future, even the weather had become unpredictable — sometimes hot, sometimes cold, raining in November, snowing in December. Yet each phenomenon was beautiful in its own strange way.
They skidded on icy roads, crashed into dirt paths, and broke down. They felt the rush of a high-speed chase with border patrol while smuggling across the state line. And finally, in December, they arrived in California.
After detouring from the south into Northern California, Night City was finally within reach. Technically, it sat between the two — a neutral city, belonging to no state or nation.
Before entering, however, Mercer needed a safe hideout outside the city — a place to stay until he could sort out fake IDs and a new cover. That could only mean one place: the nomad camp near Night City.
And that nomad family could only be the Aldecaldos — led by a man named Saul, and among them, a woman named Panam Palmer.
Mercer was ready. Once they reached the camp, he wasn't planning to head straight into the city. First, he wanted to see her — the woman he'd romanced countless times in the game. As a male protagonist, Panam was the only female character he could pursue, and he had always prioritized her side quests just to romance her. He'd replayed that storyline many times.
This time, he was finally going to meet her for real — and he had been looking forward to it for a long time.
What Mercer didn't expect was that his encounter with Panam Palmer would come much sooner than planned.
"Mercer! There's a firefight up ahead! It must be nomads fighting the Wraiths! We have to help — they might be the ones coming to meet us!" Cassidy's voice crackled over the intercom.
Mercer's cybernetic eye zoomed in on the distance. Six vehicles raced through the Badlands — a chaotic 3v3 duel, both sides firing wildly as they sped.
"No problem. Let's go together. Turn on the public radio and call out," Mercer ordered. Then he floored the accelerator and opened fire with his Kenshin.
As soon as he entered network range, his eyes lit up. He immediately began hacking. During their long journey, Mercer had studied their own vehicle systems and developed custom quick-hacks for cars: Engine Overload, Full Speed Ahead, Emergency Brake.
The Wraiths suddenly found their accelerator jammed, one of their cars flipping into a ditch. Another slammed its brakes and spun out of control, drifting before flipping. A third's engine caught fire — and before the passengers could react, nomads riddled them with bullets from a vehicle-mounted gun.
Mercer's crew slowed and stopped. Across from them, the nomads parked and stepped out.
A middle-aged man led the group — Mercer didn't recognize him. But the people behind him made his eyes widen slightly.
Scorpion. Mitch. And… Panam Palmer.
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