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Chapter 341 c
🕑 Added 2025-08-04 21:28:53 +0000 UTCChapter 341 c
2-in-1-chapter
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By then, the entire real world might collapse as quickly as in The Last of Us.
The key difference was that The Last of Us at least had human settlements left. But if this world was invaded by AIs, then everyone could instantly become slaves to artificial intelligence or die if they resisted.
The result would be far worse than The Last of Us where the enemies were no different from wild animals.
“So that’s it… I see now. You’re saying that once they break through the Blackwall and let the AIs in, the AI‑ruled world is the ‘new world’ the Voodoo Boys believe in?”
“Exactly.”
Leo frowned. “If that’s the case, why doesn’t NetWatch just wipe the Voodoo Boys out completely to prevent the disaster?”
NetWatch, headquartered in London and established in 2013, was a global net‑police organization tasked with protecting the networks of Europe and the Americas.
They partnered with governments, corporations, and other large entities to secure funding, patrolling the Net to hunt for illegal activity.
They specialized in defending data fortresses, tracking rogue AIs that slipped past the Blackwall, stopping unlawful intrusions, eliminating software threats, and dealing with troublesome netrunners.
They were also responsible for maintaining the Blackwall.
By 2077, one of NetWatch’s primary objectives was preventing ordinary citizens from crossing or breaching the Blackwall.
Naturally, NetWatch and the hackers who attempted to cross—or destroy it were mortal enemies.
So why, then, would NetWatch allow the Voodoo Boys to undermine the Blackwall? Shouldn’t they have already traced their IPs and tracked them down by now?
“If it were anyone else, NetWatch would’ve done just that. But this is the Voodoo Boys. They’ve got their own independent network—something called Poseidon. NetWatch can’t locate them.”
“But…?”
“How’d you know I was about to say ‘but’?”
“You told me before that a traitor from the Voodoo Boys came to you, didn’t you? He must’ve told you where their base is.”
“Smart. He did tell me where their hideout is. That’s why NetWatch gave me a big contract. They want me to put together the most reliable crew possible and wipe the Voodoo Boys out completely.”
“Wait. I’m sure the intel he gave you is genuine. But how do you know they haven’t moved their base?”
Normally, if someone in your gang suddenly disappeared, even without hard proof, you’d suspect betrayal.
Especially a group like the Voodoo Boys—always lurking in the shadows, never showing their faces. If they weren’t that cautious, they would’ve been eliminated long ago.
“They won’t move. The informant didn’t run—he’s still inside the Voodoo Boys.”
Rogue glanced at Leo’s expression and continued. “Yeah, at first I thought the same as you. But then I realized what was going on.”
“If this were the Tyger Claws or the 6th Street Gang, running off to Europe would mean you’d shaken them for good.”
“But the Voodoo Boys are different. No matter how far you run, they can find you.”
“And once they do, they’ll find a way to kill you.”
Leo fell silent.
He thought of Evelyn.
The Voodoo Boys weren’t like the Tyger Claws or the 6th Street Gang.
They were real netrunners—people who could literally fry your brain through a neural link.
“So, he’s making sure all his companions are taken out before he dares to leave.”
“Exactly.”
If Rogue’s informant hadn’t left the Voodoo Boys, then that was good news.
It meant the Voodoo Boys still had no idea their hideout had already been compromised.
“How much is NetWatch offering for this contract?”
“Five million eurodollars.”
Leo raised his eyebrows.
“That doesn’t sound like much.”
To eliminate a gang causing endless trouble—for just five million?
Were they trying to insult him? Was NetWatch being stingy, or had someone already skimmed off the top?
Kickbacks weren’t unusual, even abroad.
Say a project received funding—money would get sliced off before it even arrived, then sliced again at the local level, leaving only a fraction for the actual job.
“I thought the same. That’s why you need to meet them face‑to‑face and negotiate.”
Leo narrowed his eyes. “If you couldn’t get a better deal, why do you think I can?”
Rogue smiled.
“NetWatch aren’t idiots. I’m sure when they came to me, they also approached other fixers in the city.”
“And tell me—what fixer in Night City doesn’t have a few reliable crews on hand? But nobody’s going to risk pissing off the only netrunner gang in the city for a measly five million.”
“Because if you fail to wipe out the Voodoo Boys completely, they’ll mark you—and you’ll never have a peaceful day again.”
“So when NetWatch has gone down the list and found no takers, that’s when you step in. Then they’ll realize just how valuable you are.”
“And more importantly, don’t forget—I’ve got the intel on the Voodoo Boys. That’s something no other fixer can offer.”
“Unless NetWatch is willing to tolerate the Voodoo Boys poking holes in the Blackwall forever, they’ll have no choice but to sit down and negotiate the price properly.”
Rogue pulled out a datachip, set it on the table, and slid it across to Leo.
“This is the intel my informant gave me. I’m transferring it all to you now. I trust you’ll know how to put it to good use.”
Leo thanked her, picked up the chip, slotted it into his tactical goggles, and scanned through the contents. Sure enough, the intel was about the Voodoo Boys—not only plentiful but extremely important.
He removed the chip and asked seriously, “How much do I owe you?”
Rogue waved her hand. “No need. If you wipe out the Voodoo Boys completely—leave none alive—you’ll be doing me a favor.”
Only then did Leo suddenly recall Rogue’s grudge against the Voodoo Boys.
They had tried to use her old flame Johnny, and when Rogue found out, the feud was sealed.
Rogue wasn’t the type to turn the other cheek after being struck—she kept score.
Now that Leo was targeting the Voodoo Boys, Rogue was more than willing to support him.
This intel was her way of paying him, while also ensuring her own vendetta was served.
Realizing it was a matter of mutual need, Leo accepted the chip without protest.
After chatting a little longer, Leo suddenly remembered someone.
“By the way, how’s Hellman?”
Hellman—the Arasaka scientist responsible for the Relic. After defecting from Arasaka, he had accepted an offer from Militech, who planned to transfer him to Washington D.C. But Leo and his crew had intercepted him on the way and sold him to Rogue.
Rogue had her own reasons for keeping him—not like Saburo Arasaka’s obsession with immortality, but to find a way to restore Johnny to a physical body.
“That guy’s not very honest,” Rogue replied. “Always plotting to escape. But he’s overestimating himself. After I taught him a few lessons and made him understand escape was impossible, he’s been more well‑behaved.”
Though Rogue’s words were casual, Leo knew it hadn’t been that simple.
Hellman was an old man; did he really think a mere techie could run from Rogue’s people? At his age, such naïveté was almost pathetic.
“Did he find a way to restore Johnny’s body?” Leo asked.
Rogue sighed.
“The method always existed. Hellman says the Relic currently holding Johnny was designed to seize the host’s body at any cost. The real problem is, the host body can’t be a corpse—and it has to be a compatible match with Johnny.”
“If it’s not a match, the consequences could be… unpredictable.”
Leo frowned. That did sound troublesome.
No wonder Johnny hadn’t resurfaced yet. If the body couldn’t be dead, they needed a vegetative patient. And it had to be compatible. Plus, family consent was required. Meeting all those conditions at once was daunting.
“This is my headache,” Rogue said. “Don’t worry about it. You take care of the Voodoo Boys—that’s already helping me.”
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Leaving the Afterlife, Leo didn’t return to Rocky Ridge. Instead, he called a Delamain cab straight to Pacifica.
At first glance, Pacifica looked just like the blueprints had once envisioned it: seaside hotels with private pools, amusement parks for families, piers and umbrellas along the beach.
And, of course, piles of trash.
But this was Night City—trash came with the view. And given its prime location, the area had once promised investors huge returns.
The first wave of investors couldn’t resist pouring money in. But halfway through construction, new and rarer opportunities appeared, and capital withdrew. Half‑finished towers were abandoned.
Gangs moved in, turning the planned seaside paradise into a battlefield.
City Hall neither repaired nor demolished it—they simply threw up a high wall around the district and called it done.
What was once meant to be a tourist hotspot had become a nightmare, a place only lunatics dared to enter.
Pacifica in 2077 was the purest expression of Cyberpunk: streets filled with flying bullets, no civilians, no NCPD. Hotel billboards riddled with bullet holes. Luxury pools filled with shrapnel debris.
An hour later, the Delamain taxi dropped Leo off a few hundred meters from a building called Grand Imperial Mall.
This was where the NetWatch agent assigned to handle the Voodoo Boys in Night City was staying.
He wasn’t alone. He had hired one of the most powerful Animal gangs in the city, led by the warlord known as Sasquatch, as his guards.
Together, they had fortified the abandoned Grand Imperial Mall into a stronghold—NetWatch’s forward base in Pacifica.
Leo’s task now was to make contact with this NetWatch agent.
Ordinarily, Rogue would have handled the negotiation, but the agent had only offered her five million euros—a sum far too low.
So Rogue had deliberately stalled, letting him exhaust every fixer in Night City, hitting dead ends, until finally she sent Leo with the intel to maximize profit.
As Leo reached the drop‑off point near the Grand Imperial Mall and was about to dial the number Rogue had given him, a sharp knock‑knock‑knock came at the car window.
Turning his head, Leo saw several armed street thugs outside, staring in with malicious intent.
Of course, Delamain’s windows were one‑way—Leo could see out, but they couldn’t see in.
Still, one look at their posture was enough for Leo to know exactly what they were planning.
