Kapitel 66: The Three
David woke up groggily—today had been too intense. Their car had flipped over, not just flipped but caught on fire.
The battle was beyond fierce. The fight between James and Leo's trio played out right before David and Gloria's eyes, leaving them, like the other civilians, trembling in fear.
As a result, when the Valentinos floored it to chase down the 6th Street Gang, they didn't get away.
In a way, this scale of gunfight was even more dangerous than dealing with a cyberpsycho—a rocket had easily blown their car into the air.
In his daze, David saw his mom lying far away, her fate uncertain.
"Mom! Mom! Wake up! Damn it, why can't I get up..."
Just as Archie was dragging James's corpse onto the car, he heard someone yelling. Walking over, he saw a kid trapped in the car.
"Is that your mom?"
"Yes—please save her!"
"No can do," Archie shook his head. "I'm working for the boss right now."
David was stunned, then shouted angrily, "Are you kidding me?! You're just going to let her die?!"
"You've got to learn to save yourself, kid."
David heard the door that trapped him being wrenched open, and with the door gone, he tumbled out.
The one who saved him was a Valentino—David immediately noticed the mechanical limb with the gang's engravings.
Cough, cough.
Archie patted David's face and said, "Listen, kid, I've got a job to do—I'm not your dad, you've got to save your own mom.
Your family doesn't seem to have Trauma Team coverage, so it's likely the city's corpse cleanup crew will show up—but don't trust them.
You've got to carry your mom to the hospital yourself, got it? You need to watch her 24/7, keep an eye on her, watch her with your own eyes.
If the doc says it's hopeless, give him a couple of slaps and see if he's still a smartass.
Here, take this—you know how to use it, right?"
As he spoke, Archie pulled out a handgun—a Militech Liberty—from his pocket.
"Living in Night City without packing heat? You've been too sheltered.
When I was your age, my mom handed me a cheap plastic gun from a discount store and told me to take care of myself on the way to school... Oh, I gotta go. Bye, kid—remember, trust no one, and hold on to that gun!"
David struggled to crawl over to his mom—
There was still hope—if he moved fast enough.
As he was leaving, he noticed the gun on the ground—but he had no idea how to use a gun.
Yet in the end, he picked it up.
"The Valentinos have broken through!"
This news was spreading like wildfire within the 6th Street Gang.
A coordinated assault against disorganized defenders—their morale had completely crumbled.
Just about an hour ago, James had fought his way out of here...
"Damn, I heard the leader's some... some moron called Burgerking, but man, they're fierce. A machine gun that blows up anything it points at."
"What the hell kind of name is that? Do they have a grudge against burgers or something?"
"Ah, don't listen to that nonsense—they're called the Burgerking Big Shots Squad. I heard it's a bunch of mercs who love eating burgers."
"Are you brain-dead? Who would pick a name like that?"
"So, they've got their sights on us?"
"Idiot, you're not a big shot. If they're targeting anyone, it's the..."
Sergeant's eye twitched—his ear implants were top-of-the-line, allowing him to hear far away.
But right now, he wished he was deaf.
He hadn't expected to have to call Padre again—just a few hours!
"Padre! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"What do I think I'm doing? Sergeant, the question is what you were thinking. Bringing in a cyberpsycho to play dirty? No problem, I'm handling it, but you'd better come up with something fast. Valentino boys cannot be stopped, no matter what I say."
"I surrender," the Sergeant could only swallow his anger. "Tell your men to stand down."
"I already told you, Sergeant, my Valentinos aren't listening.
Do you remember what happened a few weeks ago? I told you to hand over the guy who killed Amina. I was willing to compromise; you could've handed him over to NCPD.
But what did you say?"
The Sergeant was seething, his molars grinding to powder.
Padre said calmly, "No deal."
Click.
The call ended, and the Sergeant shot up from his seat, grabbing the smart submachine gun next to him and firing into the air!
"Grab your gear—"
Boom!
An explosion rocked the outskirts of the Arroyo Industrial Zone, and the Sergeant's face twisted into a snarl— It's all over!
The Arroyo Industrial Zone and the poor district of Santo Domingo were worlds apart.
It might look rundown here, with many unfinished buildings and incomplete facilities left abandoned.
But big corporations had industries here too, like Arasaka's small assembly plant and Kang Tao's robotics plant.
Although most industries were labor-intensive factories, some were high-tech—these buildings were surrounded by layers of security.
Aside from their core in-house security, most companies hired 6th Street for outer perimeter security—
But now, 6th Street couldn't even protect itself—how pathetic, the true face of 6th Street!
"Drive inside! Head for the largest warehouse! Don't shoot the corporate gear; if you see 6th Street, open fire!"
Leo's voice commanded over the comms as the trio's vehicle crushed everything in its path like a tank.
6th Street had skilled fighters, but only to a point—one shot from the Nekomata, and any armored vehicle was toast.
They couldn't be stopped, and even if they wanted to start a chase, they had to think twice, looking at Jackie's heavy machine gun—and this wasn't the only car!
Twenty-some Valentino cars were following behind! As they pressed forward, explosions rang out, and fewer dared to show themselves; those brave enough were killed on sight—it was a one-sided slaughter.
Finally, the convoy arrived at the largest abandoned warehouse in Arroyo—
6th Street's headquarters.
Ding dong—
A call came in. The contact: Sergeant.
Screech—
The car drifted to a stop in front of the warehouse door.
Sergeant: "You're the leader of the Burgerking Big Shots Squad, huh? Well, well, you've got guts."
Sergeant: "I admit defeat. Tell your men to cease fire, and I'll open the gate."
Sergeant: "Hey? Are you there? Are you deaf?"
Leo wasn't deaf, he was stunned, the whole trio was stunned.
Archie, how the hell are you spreading our name out there?!
Ahem.
"Alright, let's talk. But Sergeant, I'll remind you, don't try anything funny. We know more than you think.
Unlock your systems, and my hacker will tap into your cameras."
"Cautious little punk—go ahead, jack in."
After confirming that 6th Street had laid down their weapons, Leo controlled the warehouse door, slowly raising it.
Leo: "When we go in, use fake names, got it? I'm Burgerking; pick something for yourselves."
Jackie: "Then I'll be Big Shot."
V: "I wasn't using my real name anyway, so do I need a new one?"
Leo: "Cut the chatter and hurry up."
V: "Fine, I'll be King. Why do I feel like it's too similar to yours?"
Leo: "Or how about you call yourself Big Shot?"
V: "Screw you."
Sergeant.
A former soldier who had served in the military, he had started a veteran security business in Arroyo after retiring and had been thriving.
He wore a garrison cap and an old U.S. Army uniform, with a limp in his right leg, replaced by a basic mechanical prosthetic.
In theory, someone like him could easily afford a high-end cyberleg indistinguishable from the real thing.
But the leg he lost in the war was his greatest badge of honor; he had to show it off.
"Pleasure to finally meet, Sergeant."
Leo's trio stepped out of the car, with a group of 6th Street gangsters following behind them.
"I should say the same; I never thought I'd be taken down by three small fries." The Sergeant spoke through gritted teeth, "Names?"
All three wore masks, and Leo had hacked the cameras, so they wouldn't be captured on video.
Leo shrugged, "Burgerking."
Jackie stiffened his posture behind Leo, "Big Shot."
V rolled her eyes, "King."
To be honest, any one of these names would've been fine for a small team.
But together, they just sounded ridiculous—yet the three of them insisted on it.
The "Big Shot" in their name was apparently their self-introduction, and "Big Shot Business" was what they did.
The Sergeant spat silently on the ground: Damn it, I got played by three idiots.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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Rangliste 
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