We creep behind the cars, keeping low, close to the dumpster. The Maelstrom crew is posted up ahead, totally unaware of us slipping behind them. We wait. Tension's thick.
The gunfire starts.
We don't move yet—wait 'til they start reloading. Then me and Rebecca step out from the shadows and start mowing them down from behind. My Satara bangs fully charged 120% and duck behind a car. I hold for a second, reload, then peek back out.
Rebecca's already burning through her second mag on both pistols. She's in the zone.
By the time we're down to the last few Maelstrom gangoons, the Mox push out from their side and finish them off. Cleanup crew. Efficient.
I check on Rebecca. She gives me a nod—she's good. I start looting the bodies while she heads over to talk with the Mox. Guns, cred chips, knives, some tech—typical Maelstrom haul.
As I grab the last gun, I hear footsteps. Rebecca, Suzy Q, and the Mox leader—banged up but still standing—walk over.
The leader eyes me, holds out her hand. "Thanks for the extra gun. Who are you, by the way?"
I grip her hand in a firm shake. "Dante. But my street name's Knox."
Rebecca chimes in. "Yeah, we came out and saw what was happening. Figured we'd help y'all out."
Suzy Q just nods and walks away without a word. Rebecca watches her go, visibly irritated, then walks off toward the street.
I turn back to the Mox leader. "No problem. And you are?"
"I'm Alissa. I run the enforcers for the Mox," she says.
"Nice to meet you. Can I take the guns these guys were carrying?"
She gives me a weird look, then laughs. "You actually want them?"
"Yeah. Would be preem—get me some eddies, maybe some components."
Still eyeing me like I'm half-gonked, she shrugs. "Sure, kid. Go wild."
I scoop up the haul—four assorted knives, a spiked bat, around ten submachine guns and rifles, five shotguns, and eight credchips I'll check later. I also find seven or eight keycards—vehicle access.
I match the cards to the rides parked nearby and pick the best-looking one—minimal Maelstrom decals, still runs clean. I toss the weapons into the back.
Then I walk over to Rebecca.
"If you want, I can drive you home," I offer. "Got some wheels now. Or you can take one of the beat-up ones if you'd rather drive yourself."
She nods and hops in the ride I picked. "Come on, choom. I'm trying to get home."
I slide into the driver's seat. Smells a little funky in the Mackinaw—nothing a good clean won't fix. Rebecca sticks her head out the window, gasping.
"It's not that bad, you gonk," I laugh.
She takes a heavy breath and shoots me a look. "Choom, it smells like puke."
I can't help but laugh harder as I punch it toward the address she sends me. I save it in the auto-call system under her name—Rebecca—so I can get there easy next time.
When we pull up, she hops out.
"Thanks for the drive. And seriously, clean and fix that rank smell—or I'm not meeting up with you again," she says, grinning a bit as she walks toward her apartment.
I watch her go, still chuckling. Rank or not, the ride's mine now.
I pull into my apartment building, parking the ride in my assigned space. The Mackinaw's officially mine now—set it as "home" in the system. First thing's first: I transfer the weapons from the back into my inventory. Gotta keep things clean. Then I slide the credchips into my hand and run the transfers—eight chips, a smooth 1,200 eddies. Not a bad bonus for a surprise ambush.
I check the system interface. It pops up clean:
> [+2000 EXP earned]
Level Up: 2 → 3
1666 / 2000 EXP
1 Attribute Point | 3 Perk Points
I dump the attribute point into Body, pushing it to 12. Then slot perk points into Painkiller, Speed Junky, and Army of One. Nice spread—solid survivability and harder hits. I close the interface.
The moment I step out of the Mackinaw, two Tyger Claws stroll up—higher tier than the pushovers I smoked earlier. One of 'em gets in my face. I don't wait.
I kick the first in the gut and yank the spiked bat off my back. One solid swing to his dome before he even reacts. The second one's already bouncing back—probably got some speedware in him.
I hit the first guy again—hard. Skull cracks, flatlined.
The second Choomba charges back with a katana, slicing with a war cry. I bait him in, Satara in one hand, bat in the other. He knocks the bat from my grip and slices into my off-hand. Pain spikes, blood flies.
Then I light him up—point-blank blast from the Satara. Punches a hole through his chest, and he hits the pavement hard.
I barely have a moment to breathe. More Claws roll up—three, maybe four. Bigger, bulkier. Pissed.
I load fresh slugs into the Satara and slide behind a dumpster just as a submachine gun rakes the opposite side. A few rounds clip me—drops my health from 150 to 100. Army of One kicks in, counters the bleed. I jab a MaxDoc into my neck. Health climbs to 130 with a slow regen ticking.
I yank an SMG from inventory and shred the first armored enforcer—he drops, twitching. I swap to another, fresh mag already loaded—
Time stutters, everything freezes.
> [WARNING: That's the last time you may swap weapons from inventory mid-combat.]
Big red letters. Just great.
Time resumes—and so does the fight.
Another Tyger rushes. I charge a quick blast with the Satara and hit him square. He goes flying, groaning as he hits the ground. I roll behind a car, load more slugs, and start charging again.
80% charge—
Heavy footsteps. I pop up—another Tyger, close range.
I pull the trigger.
BOOM.
He drops like a bag of synthmeat.
The street's still hot. Smoke curling off barrels. Sirens echo in the distance, but they won't be here for a while—not in this zone.
I move fast.
Two rifles, two submachine guns, and a katana—all yanked off fresh corpses and shoved into my inventory like I'm on a shopping spree. I find two more credchips and put them into my Inventory . I'll check the payout later. Right now, I've got somewhere to be.
I dial up Misty's Esoterica—rings twice before it picks up. I say "I'm coming in injured a couple bullet wounds it's not too urgent but I need the help if you can ask viktor for me. She says " I'll get him how long will it be ?" "I'm like 5 minutes out." I hop into my Mackinaw, still stained from the last brawl. Smells like scorched synth-leather and blood, but it's home.
As I pull out, the system pings me again.
> [LEVEL UP: 3 → 5]
2 Attribute Points | 5 Perk Points
Hell yeah.
I dump both attribute points into Body, bringing it up to 14—beefy now, almost tank-level. My arms feel like they're humming with strength.
Then the perks:
Die! Die! Die! (x2) – More lead, less talk.
Like a Feather – Shotguns don't slow me down.
Bullet Ballet – Make 'em dance with every scatterblast.
Breakthrough – My blunt weapons ignore armor like it's paper.
Everything clicks into place. I'm a walking wall of pain now, and I'm just getting warmed up.
The Mackinaw rumbles beneath me as I cruise toward Misty's. To see Vicktor behind the shop to patch up my wounds pull the lead from my body. The guns are still hot in my inventory, my pulse is steady, and for a moment...
I feel stronger better more than before.