Unlike the easily manipulated V and Rebecca, Mann is not so easy to fool. If I reveal everything about them right now, Mann might become suspicious and choose to stay away from me.
"Hmm?" Rebecca squinted her eyes.
V also glanced at Mercer sideways.
Lucy was wearing a mask, so her emotions were unreadable; she just quietly sipped her cola through a straw.
Qiwei and Pira were just there to enjoy the show.
"Oh, really?" Sasha gave Mercer a flirtatious blink. "How cute?"
"Hmm, about as cute as Rebecca and Lucy."
Mercer's comment made Pira unable to hold back a thumbs-up. "That's a quick way to choose the worst option, boss. One sentence offended four girls."
V rolled his eyes: "Don't include me; I don't care."
"Equally cute, huh~" Sasha stifled a laugh. "Eh? I thought you'd say I'm the cutest one."
Mercer could hear Rebecca grinding her teeth. He shook his head, let out a laugh, and raised his hand: "I surrender."
Sasha finally let out a laugh: "You're quite interesting, aren't you?"
After a few jokes, everyone just casually chatted along, but it wasn't long before Mercer intentionally steered the conversation.
"Which fixer are you dealing with?"
"Faraday. We've worked with him the most, and occasionally take on other people's jobs, like Rogue."
Mann didn't hide it.
"Faraday, huh... I don't like that guy. He's just a corporate sheepdog, waiting for them to toss him a bone, and he'll hand over his flock without hesitation."
Mercer's comment made Mann furrow his brow slightly: "Really?"
"Let's put it this way, I classify fixers into three types." Mercer raised his fingers.
"The first type is the legitimate businessperson, like Wagako from the Kabuki District, the Old Captain from Santo Domingo, and Queen Rogue from Rebirth. They all fall into this category of fixers.
These people have dealt with corporations in one way or another and deeply understand the corporate mindset, knowing the true essence of being a fixer.
What does a fixer do? Simply put, they balance the forces in this city, profiting from conflicts on both sides.
In the eyes of this kind of fixer, the status of clients and mercenaries is similar, and without one, there's no business to conduct. So, they rarely screw over their own people, and may even protect them when necessary.
Because reliable mercenaries are hard to find, even harder than finding a client.
Therefore, they won't easily believe the grand promises of corporations or tarnish their own reputation."
Mercer raised a second finger: "The second type thinks of themselves as bosses among fixers.
They like to set rules and have the people under them act obediently, treating mercenaries as lackeys. If you disobey, even if you complete the job, he will deal with you if you cause trouble for him."
"And the third type is the idiot like Faraday, who has nothing but wealth and luxury in mind and will cast away any sense of conscience or morality for money.
In his eyes, all mercenaries are expendable. In this kind of fixer's eyes, your life is less important than his money."
After Mercer finished speaking, Mann remained noncommittal.
But Sasha felt Mercer made a lot of sense: "Actually, I have a similar feeling... I don't really like Faraday either."
"For example, when you're on a mission, does he tell you who's behind the scenes? He just tells you it's better not to ask, and some things are less trouble if you don't know."
Mercer's words indeed made Mann somewhat moved.
Seeing this, Mercer stopped while ahead and simply said, "This type treats you like a tool because you never know when he might sell you out, so he won't tell you the details of the job.
When you foolishly die on a mission, he'll declare without mercy that you botched his business, while keeping his silence on the concealed mission details, and then search for the next unlucky soul to collaborate with."
"Alright, that's enough said." Mercer casually reminded, "Seeing as we had a pleasant conversation...
If you come across a deal related to biotechnology or military science recently, you'd best not leap into it lightly.
Nine times out of ten, there's a trap there. I urge you not to take it on, but if you have to, then message me before the action.
Perhaps with just a few words, I could save your lives."
Mann could tell that Mercer's words weren't just pleasantries; they were genuinely well-intentioned. So he solemnly nodded: "Thanks, A. I'll remember your words."
"Yeah, don't overthink it, I'm just being genuinely helpful. You never know when I might need you to lend a hand later on.
You can see that my team lacks a bit of muscle, so, you get it."
Mercer's candidness put Mann at ease. He raised his glass with a smile: "No problem, just give me a call if you need anything."
"Same here, relationships are built through helping each other, just give a shout if you need something."
Mercer smiled, picked up his cola, clinked glasses with him, and slipped the straw under his mask to take a few sips.
In fact, Mercer also got wind of some falsified data about a biotech nerve painkiller known as the 'Safety Spirit.'
Before Sasha came to Night City, her mother was seriously ill, and post-op, to relieve her nerve pain, Sasha herself spent a lot on this newly released biotech 'premium painkiller' Safety Spirit.