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Chapter 347c
🕑 Added 2025-08-10 15:11:01 +0000 UTCChapter 347c
2-in-1-chapter
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She had burned out Evelyn’s neural link, but had stopped short of turning her into a complete vegetable.
Strictly speaking, Evelyn was still capable of perceiving the outside world.
She simply could no longer move, nor could she speak.
That had been Brigitte’s intent.
With the relic’s whereabouts unknown, the Voodoo Boys grand plan had gone from being within arm’s reach to indefinitely postponed.
They were forced to use the crudest method available—continuing to send netrunners through the Blackwall into the far side in search of Alt.
Brigitte knew the dangers that lay beyond the Blackwall, so neither she, nor the other top brass, nor their most elite netrunners ever crossed it themselves.
Only the gang’s peripheral netrunners were ordered to make such trips.
Naturally, those on the periphery weren’t fools.
They knew these were suicide runs and wouldn’t agree lightly.
So Brigitte divided the peripheral netrunners into several teams, selecting only one team at a time to cross the Blackwall.
She allowed these teams to remain near the Blackwall’s boundary rather than forcing them to advance deep inside.
If a netrunner died, Brigitte would pay a sum to the family, exempt them from paying Voodoo Boys protection fees, and grant them the same protection as before.
With these measures, she barely managed to keep the peripheral netrunners cooperative and willing to work for her.
Brigitte was well aware that, fearsome as the Voodoo Boys reputation might be, compared to a corporation’s netrunning teams they were insignificant.
Kang-Tao, Arasaka, Militech—any one of these megacorps had teams that could crush them effortlessly.
The only reason the Voodoo Boys still existed was because they understood their own weakness and avoided provoking those giants.
Yet Brigitte also knew the old Net beyond the Blackwall was like a gold mine, an inexhaustible treasure trove.
The megacorps said nothing publicly, but they all quietly sent netrunners past the Blackwall, while NetWatch turned a blind eye.
Even so, no matter how advanced the tech or skilled the netrunner, venturing deep into the far side of the Blackwall was fraught with peril.
Even corporate netrunner teams moved there with extreme caution; Brigitte had no illusions that her peripheral netrunners could achieve what corp teams could not.
That was why she only had them linger near the Blackwall, hoping they might catch a rogue AI wandering close.
Yes—catching a rogue AI.
It was the safest clumsy method Brigitte could think of.
If they could secure a rogue AI, they could study it, and perhaps devise a way to disguise themselves as one.
If that worked, they might safely enter the old Net and search for Alt at their own pace.
Perhaps because of their frequent crossings, NetWatch eventually noticed. A NetWatch agent was dispatched.
Brigitte had considered sending people to eliminate the agent, but the target had already hired a faction from the Animals.
Led by Sasquatch, the Animals had clashed with Brigitte’s Voodoo Boys more than once in Pacifica—and each time, the Voodoo Boys had been on the losing side.
With no chance of winning, Brigitte abandoned the idea of attacking the agent.
The one piece of luck was that, while the Animals were stronger, they were unlikely to directly attack the Voodoo Boys in their own territory.
The Batty Hotel had automated turrets, and they could count on the support of the local Haitian community.
On their home turf, the Voodoo Boys didn’t fear the Animals.
Sasquatch may have understood this too, as the Animals never came to strike.
Still, though the surface was calm, Brigitte’s sense of crisis only deepened.
NetWatch had sent an agent to target them. They might not act immediately, but inaction would not last forever.
Brigitte ordered her peripheral netrunners to accelerate the work of capturing a rogue AI, sending two teams at a time instead of one.
Even the elite netrunners at the underground safehouse beneath the Chapel were ordered to cross the Blackwall, regardless of cost.
She knew her best still couldn’t compare to corporate teams; crossing meant casualties.
But she could no longer afford to wait.
If they didn’t secure a rogue AI before the NetWatch agent moved, their future operations would be far harder.
Fortune favored them in the end.
After losing several netrunners—including two elite members—they succeeded in capturing one rogue AI.
Overjoyed, Brigitte ordered it brought back across the Blackwall and sealed inside a containment unit.
The idea had been bold—she hadn’t truly expected it to succeed.
Now, whether they attempted communication or worked on disguising themselves as rogue AI, the next steps were possible.
With this success, they could even try to capture more.
That was for later. For now, the Voodoo Boys needed to relocate.
With a NetWatch agent in Night City, Brigitte suspected they had already been exposed. Staying put was no longer an option.
She had anticipated this day and prepared other safehouses in advance.
But only the underground base beneath the Chapel would move.
The Batty Hotel, as their public front, would stay in place; relocating it would invite suspicion.
“Brigitte.”
A voice broke her thoughts as a tall, broad-shouldered Black man stepped in.
He had a menacing look, with visible signs of cybernetic modification on his face, and long dreadlocks hanging behind him like whips.
The black longcoat on his back did nothing to conceal his massive frame—he was built like a bear.
Brigitte turned toward him.
“Placide, how’s the situation with Neptune?”
Placide and Neptune were Brigitte’s most trusted lieutenants, and together the three formed the upper echelon of the Voodoo Boys.
During the day, at least two of them would be stationed at the Batty Hotel, which served as the Voodoo Boys visible public base. If none of the leadership were present, it would be obvious to even an outsider that they must have a hidden base of operations.
An hour earlier, Brigitte had ordered Neptune to head into the underground facility beneath the Chapel, leading the core members there to prepare for relocation.
“Almost ready—give it another half hour at most,” Placide reported.
Brigitte nodded in satisfaction, though Placide himself was far from pleased.
He asked, “Brigitte, is this really necessary?”
The underground complex beneath the Chapel had taken considerable time and effort for the Voodoo Boys to establish as a hidden stronghold. Now Brigitte was ready to abandon it on little more than a bad feeling.
While she was the leader, Placide was not unconditionally obedient—especially when it came to orders like this. It was easy for her to give the word, but relocating a base was far more than just speaking it aloud.
“It’s just one NetWatch agent. Say the word, and I’ll take a crew to the Grand Imperial Mall, take him down, and bring you his head.”
The Animals under Sasquatch were strong, but not so strong that the Voodoo Boys needed to fear them—and Placide did not think himself any weaker than Sasquatch.
NetWatch had sent only a single agent, without even a security escort. That alone told him everything. Even a man who preferred fists to brains could see it—NetWatch clearly did not take them as seriously as Brigitte seemed to think.
Placide considered Brigitte capable, but far too prone to overreacting—like now. One NetWatch agent and she was ready to run.
“Placide.” Brigitte’s eyes showed she knew exactly what he was thinking. This was not the first time he had questioned her, and it would not be the last. Still, he was their best fighter, and though he had his flaws, he was loyal. He had never once tried to take her place. That alone was reason enough to keep someone like him close, even if he occasionally opposed her.
“You’re as reckless as ever. Do you think killing that agent will make the problem go away?”
Brigitte gave him a sidelong look.
Placide made a throat-slitting gesture. “If NetWatch sends more, we kill them too. One comes, one dies. Two come, two die—until they stop coming.”
She knew this was simply how Placide thought. It was not stupidity, but an inability to temper his emotions. So instead of reasoning with him, she fell back on her authority as the Voodoo Boysleader.
“You will say nothing more on this. My orders are clear. I don’t want to hear another complaint from you. This matter will be handled my way.”
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At the same time, one block from the Batty Hotel, a van sat parked. Inside were Leo, V, Lucy, and ten Aldecaldos.
“Mitch, Scorpion—are you in position?”
Several hundred meters from the Chapel, another van was parked. Mitch, in the passenger seat, heard Leo’s call and answered immediately. “We’re here.”
Mitch and Scorpion were on the infiltration team, so their part would come first—Leo’s group would not move until they had succeeded.
“Let’s begin,” Mitch said.
Scorpion nodded, opened the door, and tossed a recon drone out into the street.
The drone was barely the size of a smartphone, smaller and less noticeable than a security camera. Under Scorpion’s control, it rolled quickly toward the Chapel of Serenity.
The Pacific district was eerily silent at night, like a ghost town.
Minutes later, the chapel came into view on the drone’s feed. Scorpion did not drive it straight in, but hid it nearby first, then carefully swept the surrounding area.
His caution was justified.
“Five surveillance cameras outside the Chapel” Scorpion reported.
“Mark them all,” Mitch said, then turned to the ten others in the van. “Gear up. Our turn—move out.”
They all disembarked, using the cover of darkness to reach the chapel’s perimeter. Scorpion transmitted the marked camera positions to everyone’s HUD.
Mitch gave a small nod to the team’s netrunner. “Take them offline.”
The netrunner’s Kiroshi optics lit up a dangerous red.
He was the only netrunner Leo had recruited from the Aldecaldos.
