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Jackie's driving was professional and steady. He navigated the luxury sedan through the rain-slicked streets of Night City until they reached an unremarkable apartment complex in Charter Hill. Lucy had leased the unit under a burner identity specifically for this extraction.
"Take him to 512," Kael said, stepping out of the car.
Jackie let out a small huff of exertion, picking up the unconscious Takahashi Hayami in a bridal carry. "For a corpo, this guy's been eating well. Heavy as a crate of synth-meat."
In the apartment, Kiwi was waiting. The air smelled of menthol and old data-smoke. She crushed out her cigarette as they entered. "Straight to the bathroom."
"Right. High-speed delivery," Jackie replied. He'd intended to give the sleek, mysterious Netrunner a friendly Valentino greeting, but one look at Kiwi's cold, mechanical jaw and vacant gaze told him he'd be better off keeping his mouth shut.
The bathtub was prepped—filled with ice water and bristling with interface cables. Under Kiwi's clinical direction, Jackie connected the ports behind Takahashi's ear to the external deck.
"What else, sis?" Jackie asked, eager to help.
Kiwi didn't even look up. She pointed a pale finger at the door. "Get out. Close the door."
Jackie's smile froze. He slumped his shoulders and shuffled out into the living room. Lucy remained inside to monitor the data-flow, her hand on a physical kill-switch in case the Arasaka ICE proved too aggressive.
Kiwi stripped and submerged herself in the freezing water. Kael had insisted on hiring her for this. It wasn't that he doubted Lucy's skill—she was brilliant—but he knew the mental toll of diving into Arasaka's servers. Lucy had enough ghosts; there was no need to force her back into that specific abyss if a few thousand Eddies could buy a professional shield like Kiwi.
Kael sat on the sofa and flipped on the TV. Night City's midnight broadcasts were a chaotic mix of sensationalist news and high-octane adult entertainment. Jackie sat beside him, accepting a bottle of soda.
"We just... sit here?" Jackie asked.
"Best part of the job, Jackie. Paid to watch TV."
Takahashi was a mid-level manager. His security protocols were standard corporate issue—gold-level Trauma Team but middle-tier ICE. To an expert like Kiwi, it was like picking a lock on a diary. Within twenty minutes, she emerged from the bathroom, dripping wet and shivering slightly. She didn't ask questions; she simply handed a copied data-shard to Kael.
"Money's been transferred, Kiwi," Kael said, checking his HUD. "You want Jackie to give you a lift?"
"No. I have my own way home," Kiwi replied, her voice as icy as the water she'd just left. "Good work. Call me if you have another corpo to crack."
Kael inserted the shard into a portable terminal. He bypassed the encryption and began scrolling through the Arasaka personnel archives. He found it quickly: his father's file.
The record was brief and sanitized. Cause of Death: Fatal Traffic Accident. It was the corporate version of "deleted." However, a secondary report caught Kael's eye—an onboarding notification for the position his father had vacated.
Kael pulled up the identity of the new recruit.
Jackie, leaning over his shoulder, let out a sharp whistle. "V?"
"You know this guy?" Kael asked. The photo showed a man with sharp eyes and an unmistakable edge—a "Street-Kid" who had clearly clawed his way into a suit.
"V's an old friend from the neighborhood," Jackie said, scratching his head. "He joined Arasaka a few months back. They assigned him to some overseas branch in Frankfurt, but it looks like he's being transferred back to Night City for this opening."
Kael felt a shift in the air. The "Power of Three" intuition told him he'd found the thread. Finding the truth about an internal purge was impossible from the street, but from the person occupying the dead man's chair? That was a breakthrough.
"Jackie, I need to meet him. As soon as he lands."
"I'll reach out," Jackie said seriously. "V's a good choom, but Arasaka changes people. I'll see if he's still the same guy I grew up with."
The next day was a wash of acid rain and toxic fog.
Kael and Lucy ordered takeout and watched the rain streak across the reinforced glass of their Plaza apartment. Kael was checking his messages when a specific notification pinged. It wasn't from a fixer like Wakako. It was an invitation to the Afterlife.
The Afterlife was the epicenter of the Edgerunner world. You didn't just walk in; you earned your way in. If Rogue Amendiares, the Queen of Fixers, was calling, it meant Mr. BT was no longer just a "Scavenger Killer." He was a person of interest.
"Got a job?" Lucy asked, noticing the flicker in his eye.
"Rogue wants a meeting. She invited me to her 'morgue' for a drink."
"Careful," Lucy chuckled, feeding Kael a piece of steak. "Her regulars take that place very seriously."
"It is a morgue, Lucy. The names on the drinks are all dead legends. I'm just going to see the sights."
Kael arrived at the Afterlife in Watson. He closed his umbrella and shook off the acidic rain before approaching the heavy steel doors. Two massive guards stepped forward to block him.
"You lost, kid? The arcade is two blocks down."
"I'm Mr. BT. Rogue is expecting me." Kael showed the digital invite on his Kiroshis.
The guards exchanged a look, verified the code, and stepped aside. "Welcome to the Afterlife, BT. Try not to get a drink named after you today."
Inside, the atmosphere was thick with the hum of high-end cyberware and the smell of expensive tobacco. Kael sat at the bar.
"Johnny Silverhand," Kael told Claire, the bartender.
He took a sip of the legendary cocktail. It was... aggressive. High-proof and bitter, much like the man it was named after. He downed it in one go and immediately ordered a Coke to wash away the taste.
Just then, a commotion erupted at the entrance.
"Who are you calling underage?! I'll put a hole in your skull, you blind gonk!"
Kael turned to see Rebecca jumping up and down, pointing a gun at a security guard twice her size. Sasha was frantically trying to hack the guard's optics to create a distraction so they could slip inside.
Rebecca's angry face instantly brightened when she spotted Kael. She shoved past the guard and hopped onto the stool next to him.
"I knew I'd see you here! Why are you just sitting around, Pancake Vendor?"
"Don't call me that, Rebecca," Kael sighed. "We're in the Afterlife. Have some professional courtesy."
"Hey, hey, hey!" Rebecca pushed his shoulder playfully. "Come on, Maine's waiting for us in the back. My brother won't stop talking about you—if I didn't know better, I'd think he had a crush."
Sasha followed, giving Kael a soft, apologetic smile. "Good to see you again, Kael."
"You too, Sasha."
Rebecca grabbed Kael's hand, her small but surprisingly strong grip pulling him toward the VIP booths. Sasha followed silently, her mind already calculating the tactical advantage of bringing a man of Kael's caliber into Maine's crew.
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