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Chapter 288 c
🕑 Added 2025-06-15 15:01:02 +0000 UTCChapter 288 c
2-in-1 chapter
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Out in the hallway outside the VIP room—
“Mr. González! Wait, please!”
Jackie caught up from behind, calling urgently. Dante finally stopped walking.
“Mr. Wells, please arrange someone else for this job. I don’t have time to waste here. My son has been kidnapped. He’s my only child. I can’t lose him…”
“I know, I understand.”
Jackie tried to calm him down, but Dante wasn’t having it.
“No, you don’t understand at all. The Salamanca Cartel—they’re maniacs, killers, butchers. They sent me a photo. A severed finger. It was my son’s. They told me they wouldn’t kill him with a single shot. They’re going to torture him. One finger at a time. One a day.
After the fingers, they’ll start on the toes. Only after that will they finally end his life. I have only one son. I can’t lose him.”
“Jackie, please. We’re both from Heywood. Help me.”
“Calm down. Please, Mr. González. I will help you. But I need you to tell me the truth.”
Dante’s eyes widened. “The truth? Mr. Wells, even you…?”
Jackie raised both hands, making a calming gesture.
“Relax, Mr. González. I’m on your side. I’m from Heywood too, Mexican-born. We speak the same language, drink the same water—we’re family. That won’t change, even at the end of the world.”
“I will help you. I promise. Not just because we’re kin, but because you’re a friend of Padre. If he sent you to me, I won’t let him down.”
“But please, Mr. González—I’m not an idiot. Don’t take me for one.”
Dante began to protest, “I’m not lying to you, Mr. Wells.”
“No, Mr. González. I don’t think you understand what a fixer does. We’re the bridge between mercs and clients. That means we have noses sharper than bloodhounds. And you—your whole body reeks of lies.”
Jackie might be a street brawler, but he wasn’t stupid. Since working under Padre, he’d grown. Maybe not a transformation overnight, but definitely steady and significant.
Leo had seen it. And now, even Jackie could sense that Dante was hiding something.
He didn’t press inside the VIP room—not in front of Leo and the others. But now that it was just the two of them, he got straight to the point.
Seeing that Dante still wanted to argue, Jackie cut him off.
“No. Don’t deflect. No excuses. No changing the subject.”
Jackie’s expression turned serious. Dressed in a suit, he now looked like a real fixer. “I want to help you—I truly do. But you have to be honest with me. Tell me everything, and then I can actually help you.”
“As you said yourself, Mr. González—your time is running out. And so is ours.”
He was smart about his wording. Saying “ours” made it clear—he was on Dante’s side.
That finally broke Dante’s resistance. He let out a deep sigh. “I didn’t mean to lie. I was just afraid that if Mr. Leo knew the truth, he’d refuse to help.”
Jackie hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe. But it’s better than lying. Maybe he won’t agree—but maybe he will. If you keep lying, though, he definitely won’t help.”
Dante sighed again. “I understand. Let’s go back.”
.................................
............
.
Back inside the VIP room, Leo looked as if he had expected Dante to return.
Dante glanced at Jackie. The latter gave him an encouraging nod.
Dante unfastened the button on his suit, sat back down, and said sincerely, “Mr. Leo, I owe you an apology. My concern for my son clouded my judgment. If I said anything offensive earlier, I hope you’ll forgive me. I hope this won’t affect our cooperation.”
“Rest assured, Mr. González,” Leo replied calmly. “I’m a professional. I don’t let personal emotions interfere with work.”
He leaned forward slightly. “But, as I said before, I hope my clients are honest. As long as you’re truthful with me, we can continue to work together.”
“Alright. I’ll tell you everything.” Dante placed trembling hands on his knees. “It all started a few years ago.”
"You all knew that I came from Heywood, that I was born on the streets, and that due to poverty and humble origins, I had suffered bullying and humiliation since childhood.
From that moment on, I had vowed silently that if I ever had a child, I would give him a safe and comfortable life; and if he, like me, had been born into this world burdened by poverty… then I would rather not marry or have children."
Jackie nodded.
He was able to understand Dante’s mindset perfectly because six months earlier, he had thought exactly the same way.
Born into this cesspool called Heywood, wherever there was the slightest opportunity, he had resolved to climb up with all his strength.
Jackie knew it wasn’t just him—people from Heywood, regardless of background, tended to think the same way.
“So after I had a child, I poured massive amounts of effort, energy, time, and money into him; not only did I hope he would have a happy childhood, but I also hoped that he would achieve something—grow up to become a suit‑wearing jerk in an office, not a flashy punk selling illegal chrome on the streets.”
Dante’s aspirations aligned with the Carthusian ideal of raising children to reach great heights—an ideal rarely seen in practice.
In many countries with more relaxed approaches to schooling, parents often emphasized mental health and personal growth over rigorous academics, rarely stressing the belief that “education changes destiny” or that “studying is the only path." and that you could do well in life even without it.
Though Dante was a basketball star and hadn’t been much of a scholar, and most people in his position liked to tout that school was useless—
“Look at how useful all that studying was; college kids still ended up working for someone like me who didn’t even finish high school.”
But Dante was different—he understood the importance of education.
He didn’t push his son to follow in his footsteps. Instead, he quietly hoped his boy would pursue higher education and forge his own future.
“José really pulled his weight; he got into New York University.”
José was Dante Gonzales’s son.
Even after the Collapse of the U.S., NYU managed to survive—restructured, corporatized, and heavily privatized. By 2077, it still boasted one of the highest numbers of international students among the remaining New American institutions.
“But not long after he started attending classes, an accident happened.”
“What accident?”
Leo raised an eyebrow.
He felt that the Salamanca Cartel’s kidnapping of Dante’s son was probably connected to this accident.
“He hit someone—a child.”
Dante seemed reluctant to recall it, and his face twisted in pain.
“That kid was even younger than him, riding a brand‑new black motorcycle—probably a gift from his family.”
“At that moment José had reached for his phone—it had been on the passenger seat; one hand on the wheel, the other reaching for it. When he finally grabbed it, he suddenly felt the car hit something, and then he felt what he hit fly over the top of the car.”
V and Lucy exchanged glances, quietly stunned.
Leo’s face darkened too.
“Was the one hit the kid on the motorcycle?”
Dante didn’t answer in words, but he gave a slow nod.
Jackie suddenly asked, “And then? Did José flee the scene?”
Dante nodded despairingly.
“José had planned to call 911, but the kid died while he was still on the phone; José was terrified, and then… he fled the scene.”
No one spoke in the VIP room except Dante’s voice, which continued.
“Later he called me. I happened to be in Washington, D.C. at the time for some business. Although he didn’t say exactly what happened, I still sensed from his tone that something was very wrong. After I calmed him down, I dropped everything and took a private jet to New York.”
“When I saw him, I could hardly believe my eyes: a boy who should have been bright and lively had turned into a junkie‑looking mess—and that was the last thing I wanted.”
“If it had been anyone else, I might have turned around and left, or beaten him up severely. But he was my son, and no matter what he did wrong, he was still my son.”
“So I suppressed my anger and carefully asked him what had happened, because I feared that if I didn’t control myself, my outburst might frighten him even more and then he wouldn’t say anything.”
“When he finally told me, in exact detail, about the accident… I felt as if lightning had struck out of a clear sky, as if the apocalypse would happen tomorrow.”
At that moment, Dante suddenly shifted his tone and turned to Jackie.
“Jackie, are you married?”
Jackie wasn’t sure why Dante had suddenly changed the subject like that, and he shook his head: “Me? Not… not yet.”
“And Mr. Leo?”
Leo replied calmly.
“I’m still single.”
Dante sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
“How wonderful—being young is wonderful. If I could do it all over again, I’d never get married.”
Jackie looked at Leo, who shook his head slightly, signaling Jackie to be patient.
“People always say, ‘‘raise children so they can care for you in old age’ but why is it that raising a child has ended up being such a headache? Sometimes I wonder if my son was my enemy in another life and has come to take revenge on me in this one.”
“Otherwise, why couldn’t he, like a man, stay at the scene after making a mistake, wait for the police, and accept the consequences? Instead, he acted like an ungrown kid, calling me to clean up his mess—just like when he was little.”
Leo cleared his throat.
“Mr. Gonzales, what did you do then?”
Dante wiped his face, his expression shifting.
“Sorry, I lost my composure… it took me about ten, maybe twenty minutes to accept the reality, and then I chose to bring him to the police station.”
“To the police station?”
Everyone else in the room looked surprised. He hadn’t tried to cover up for his son—but had personally taken him to turn himself in?
Dante said proudly:
“I know what you are thinking—even though I’m wealthy, I don’t have the disgusting habit of rich people, hiring someone to take the fall. Hmph, I, Dante Gonzales, hate those rich bastards who think they can do whatever they want just because they have money.”
V suddenly spoke.
“Mr. Gonzales, have you noticed that everything you’ve told us so far seems to have no connection whatsoever with your son’s kidnapping?”
Dante waved his hand away.
“Don’t worry, Miss V, I’m about to get to that… After I brought my son to the police station, I didn’t let him go in with me at first—I had him wait in the car while I went in alone to observe.”
He gave a wry smile and continued.
“It’s ironic in a way—Statistically speaking, you’d think someone like me would’ve spent a lot of time in a police station, but although I’m from Heywood, I had rarely ever set foot in one.”
“Even though several years had passed, I still remembered clearly. There was no one else in the station—only a pair of grieving parents, collapsing in sorrow.”
“I asked an officer and learned that they hadn’t come to report a crime, but that the station had called them to identify a body—their child had been killed in a crash on the street a few hours earlier.”
“That street was in a low-income neighborhood—poor, neglected, and lacking infrastructure. Because the area generated little tax revenue, officers weren’t dispatched regularly, and there were no surveillance cameras installed.”
“When officers found the boy, the body was already cold, and the perpetrator had disappeared. And because there were no cameras, the police didn’t know who did it.”
“I immediately realized that they were the parents of that poor child that José had hit; judging by their clothes, they weren’t from an ordinary family—I didn’t know how much compensation I’d have to pay them, but after hesitating, I walked toward them.”
“I had intended to confess to them, to tell them I would compensate them to the best of my ability—even if I had to sell my booming tire‑company business…”
“But when I got close to them, I nearly fainted—I could hardly stay on my feet. Because I recognize that the couple had a surname anyone familiar with Mexico would recognize… Salamanca.”
Jackie gasped, “Salamanca? That’s the same ones who kidnapped your son?”
He seemed to realize something, his face suddenly enlightened.
“So you… so your son… that’s why they…”
Dante nodded slowly.
“I had originally intended to bring him to confess, but after seeing the Salamanca couple at the station, I changed my mind.”
“If they found out that it was my son who had killed their kid, the Salamanca Cartel would not only go after José, but also go after me.”
“Jackie, you’re also of Mexican descent—although you were born in Night City, you know the violent and brutal rumors of the Mexican Cartels, right?”
“They’re no different from the gangs in the city; the difference is that these groups have power and influence far beyond Night City’s gangs, which makes their actions even more ruthless, erratic, and brutal.”
Comments
Gabriel Teets
You take this arc for that series your honor ?
