"Oof! Ori and Bats groan as they're physically thrown from the store, the Tyger Claws chuckling at their misfortune. The duo don't dawdle either, quickly departing and heading back to the car, once there they release long sighs of relief at getting out of that situation in one piece.
"Well, that was a bust..." Ori mutters, rubbing his eyes.
"Ya'think!?" Bats retorts. "I don't even wanna think about how close we were to getting zeroed! That was the mob Ori! Serious Tyger Claw shit! We got dragged in front of their leadership, interrogated, and still somehow made it out alive! I'm still fuckin' shaking." he raises his hand, showing it visibly trembling.
"You're the one that wanted to come. You should've expected something like this." he shakes his head, "Now we've gotta think of another plan, they know our faces now too..."
"Ori we almost got caught, we should head back, take a break, and think about this more-"
"What, you're losing your nerve already?" Ori questions with a raised brow.
"There's being brave, then there's being foolish. Neither of us has any skills that can help us here... We need outside help." Bats states.
Ori nods, "Yeah, I was thinking a Netrunner, but how much is it to hire one anyway?"
"Too much, especially if we ask 'em to risk themselves against the Tygers... To even hire one we'd need to go someplace high-up... Like the Afterlife or something..."
"Afterlife... You mean 'that' Afterlife?" Ori asks, there probably wasn't a single sole in Night City who didn't know at least the name of it. It was a goal, a point that most mercs could confidently call themselves pros if they reached it. That was the big leagues, and not something he or Bats could easily reach.
It was Ori's goal too, as it happens, all the money they were saving up was meant for that, to hire someone in the Afterlife to find Cat. Specifically, he wanted 'Rogue' the owner of the place who was apparently the best Fixer you could buy. Obviously, such a thing wouldn't come cheap, he'd asked Max and he'd laughed at the difficulty of the task.
They wanted a Fixer to find a girl called Cat who may or may not have been kidnapped by one of three gangs, may or may not be alive, and could be literally anywhere in Night City, with no names, locations, or anything else to help find her.
Now, if they needed to hire a Netrunner, they'd be eating into their funds... Was Marv even worth that? The auction was their only lead to find him, but if that put them behind schedule in finding Cat?
Was revenge worth the delay? The risk?
Deep in his thoughts, Ori almost completely ignored the familiar chime of an incoming holocall, his eyes widen however when he notices the name...
[Incoming Call: Quentin Fabrosi]
What would he be calling for? Maybe a job...?
Shaking his head, he answers it and looks at the holographic image appearing from his holophone, instantly pausing at the sight...
Quentin had been tied to a chair in some well-decorated apartment, the camera only revealing him and nothing that could indicate his location or his captor.
"H-hey, O-Ori... I need your help..." the young Corpo asks with clear desperation.
Bats beside Ori stares at the screen in bafflement, forcing Ori to put a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. Whatever this, whoever was responsible probably didn't want it made public to outsiders...
"Quentin, what the fuck is this?"
"I-I need someone to vouch for me... Youknow, b-because of a week ago... Y-youknow... The thing..." he stutters out, his swollen lips and bruised face making it difficult for him to speak.
Ori quirks a brow, "What thing, you need to be specific." he states, not wanting to incriminate himself without Quentin doing so first.
Quentin's eyes glance at whoever was behind the camera, "V-vouch for me, killing my dad... Y-you were there... U can vouch for me... Right...?"
"Why would you need someone to vouch for that?" Ori questions, "This shit is pretty sus, you tryin' to put it on me or something!?" he angrily asks.
"N-no! T-the person holding m-me... Ain't Corpo... T-they were targeting my dad... Think I'm i-in charge now..."
"Alright, that's enough." a distorted yet feminine voice states, turning the camera around to face her, revealing a black pixilated silhouette which obviously had software obscuring her identity. "If you want your buddy alive you'll come to the Drive-In Theater in North Oak. You've got ten minutes."
"T-ten minutes!? I'm at the bottom of-"
"Japantown, I know... Better hurry. Ciao!" she says, the scenery around her fading away to reveal pitch-black darkness, indicating that the apartment had been for display purposes only.
*Beep-Beep*
[Call Ended]
"Fuck!" Ori growls, pocketing his holophone and starting the car, "Get out Bats, this ain't somethin' you wanna be involved in." he states as he revs the engine.
"You're gonna go off into ANOTHER ambush!? I'm already here so let's just-" Bats starts but flops onto the sidewalk as Ori punts him out. "I'll see you back at the apartment, we'll talk about our options there." he says before driving off with a trail of dust and smoke behind him.
Bats awkwardly gets up, brushes himself off and rubs the back of his neck as he watches him leave into the distance, "That kid..."
--------------------------------
Ori zoomed through traffic in his crappy little Thorton G240 hatchback, swerving past cars and clearing multiple red lights. He'd almost crashed multiple times but he didn't slow, knowing he was on a time limit.
Was there a reason he was so desperate to get to Quentin?... No, not one he could pick out, but overall he felt like it was the right thing to do, even if it was just for the Eddies the guy'd probably pay him.
Thankfully, it wasn't strange to see a stupidly dangerous driver in Night City, since this was Tyger Claw turf, the NCPD barely had any presence at all. Their headquarter was based in Little China so even if they wanted to catch him, they'd be hard-pressed to do so before he vanished.
He pulls a hard turn into the large roundabout and barely pulls the ass of the car in as he accelerates down the thin sideroad that winded around North Oak.
By the time he reached the Drive-In Theater one of his car's tires had gotten slashed by some scrap, its engine was chugging hard, and it was even running low on CHOOH2 the synthetic alcohol that served as fuel nowadays.
He steps out of the car, slings his shotgun over his shoulder and begins stomping up the hill to the Drive-In, all the while grumbling curses under his breath.
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