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Chapter 260 c
🕑 Added 2025-06-01 15:02:00 +0000 UTCChapter 260 c
Between a merc and the client, there was always a middleman. According to the rules of the business, the client typically paid a commission to the middleman, who would then pass on the merc’s cut. It was rare for a client to bypass the middleman and pay the merc directly.
“You did good work. Consider this a tip.” Boz shook hands with Panam, giving Leo a wary glance before saying, “Let’s bounce.”
The members of the 6th Street gang quickly piled into their vans and took off like they were fleeing from a plague. Not until they’d driven a fair distance did someone in the back finally speak, sounding uneasy.
“Boz, wasn’t that guy with Jackie’s crew?”
“Do I need you to remind me? I fucking saw it,” Boz snapped irritably.
“So we’re just leaving like this?”
“What, you wanna have a Wild West shootout with him?” Boz growled. “The fall of the Clemente family isn’t a loss for us. On the contrary, we used their downfall to snatch up some of their turf. From that angle, the guy actually did us a huge favor.”
He glanced at the others and added, “I know what you’re thinking, but there are some enemies you just don’t want to provoke. That guy—I did my homework. He’s one of Rogue’s regulars. The kind of guy who can share drinks and laughs with her. Every job he’s taken so far has had a 100% completion rate.”
“Even if he’s never shown his full strength in public, he’s definitely not some random street punk. Since there’s no conflict of interest between us, let’s not go poking a hornet’s nest. Got it?”
Faced with Boz’s intimidating stance, his men shrank back. “U-understood.”
After scolding his crew, Boz fell into thought. If that woman had connected with Leo, then she’d found herself a solid backer. She wasn’t just a drifter among drifters anymore—she was someone they couldn’t afford to mess with.
But Boz quickly laughed at himself, cursing his paranoia. He wasn’t Nash, and he hadn’t been planning anything anyway. He’d just hired Panam to help deliver some goods—what was there to be afraid of?
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“You know them?”
Leo smiled gently. “Didn’t that Boz guy already say it? We don’t know each other.”
“Then why did they seem scared of you?” Panam frowned. Connecting the dots to what he was doing tomorrow, a bold thought surfaced in her mind. “Don’t tell me you’re corpo? Kang Tao? Arasaka?”
“Neither. Just a regular cyber-merc.”
Panam clearly didn’t buy it, giving him a look that said, Yeah, right. But since Leo wasn’t willing to say more, she didn’t press the issue. She wasn’t the type to dig into people’s backgrounds just for the hell of it.
“Come on, let’s grab a drink. My treat.”
They headed to the second floor of the Sunset Motel*. The owner had converted one of the larger rooms upstairs into a bar. That way, he could offer both lodging for travelers and sell drinks for some extra profit. The bar wasn’t big, but it had a down-to-earth decor that gave tired wanderers a sense of finding safe harbor.
Panam walked in and sat right down at the bar. The bartender, an older middle-aged man, had a visible implant exposed at his right temple—Leo recognized it instantly as an auditory enhancement unit.
“Hey, Noah.”
The man clearly knew Panam. Seeing Leo and the others behind her, he set down the glass he’d been cleaning and called out, “Hey, is this a new gig or new friends?”
“You take a guess. Is everything good here? Those assholes show up again?”
“You mean the Raffen Shiv? Nah, been quiet lately. But they’ll be back, no doubt. Whatever, got enough fleas already, what’s a few more bites. What can I get you?”
“Beer. Four bottles.”
“Thanks. Switch mine to cola,” Leo said, noticing Panam’s puzzled expression. “I don’t drink.”
“There are still people who don’t drink? Suit yourself.”
Panam chugged an entire bottle in one go. “Another one.”
Noah pulled another bottle from the cabinet behind him, popped the cap, and slid it over.
“Thanks, Noah.”
“No problem. Just holler if you want anything else.”
Leo didn’t touch his cola. He casually asked, “Do the Raffen Shiv come around here often to hassle you?”
Noah looked up, confused, unsure why he was asking. But after glancing at Panam, who’d helped him before, he let down his guard and replied, “Sort of. They treat me like a cash cow, come around every now and then for extortion.”
Leo’s fingers tapped lightly on his glass. “Doesn’t the NCPD do anything about it?”
Noah gave a bitter smile. “We’re outside the city. Sure, it’s barely a thirty-minute drive to downtown, but out here is out here. Not Night City jurisdiction—NCPD won’t step foot past the border.”
Leo went quiet. Never mind the outskirts—even parts of Pacifica had been redlined by our glorious Mayor Lucius Rhyne just to make the city’s crime and shooting stats look better. If the mayor didn’t care about parts of the inner city, why would he care about some roadside motel out here?
Of course, Mayor Rhyne’s genius didn’t stop there. In order to cut costs—since the NCPD wasn’t "profitable"—he privatized the force. Commissioner Jerry Fort, ever eager to please, responded by firing half the cops, reducing patrols, and ordering officers on duty to focus solely on handing out fines.
The results of this new policy were obvious.
Crime skyrocketed. Corpses piled up in alleys. Blood soaked the sidewalks. Meanwhile, Rhyne’s and Fort’s Swiss accounts swelled, and the suits in Corpo Plaza popped champagne—celebrating what? A thousand percent increase in demand for private security services.
Leo glanced around. The motel was huge, but Noah ran it solo. He was the owner, bartender, cleaner, and server—all rolled into one. No wonder when the Raffen Shiv showed up, all he could do was pay up.
“I can see business here isn’t bad. Why not do something—like install a few defense turrets?”
The Raffen Shiv only went after the weak. They dared extort the Sunset Motel because it stood alone outside the city, beyond NCPD’s protection. It wasn’t under any gang’s control either, no one backing it. That’s why the Raffen Shiv acted with impunity.
But if defense turrets were mounted around the place, next time the Raffen Shiv showed up, they’d think twice.
Noah gave another bitter smile. “You might not know this, but those are military-grade weapons. Heavily restricted. It’s not just a matter of having the cash.”
“Official channels, sure. But there are plenty of fixers in the city. Someone’s bound to have access.”
“I asked around, but I don’t have the connections. No one’s willing to sell to me.”
Noah wasn’t lying. Fixers were like urban troubleshooters—people who solved problems. But if a total stranger suddenly showed up asking to buy controlled, military-grade gear, no fixer in their right mind would sell without knowing who vouched for them.
Leo drummed his fingers on the table. “Well, if you trust Panam, I can get it for you. I’ve got the contacts, and I can even bring in pros to install it. Of course, it won’t be free—I don’t do charity.”
Noah looked at Panam, then back at Leo, shock flashing across his face before being replaced by joy. “Really? That’d be amazing! If you can actually get it, the money’s no problem.”
He already knew how expensive turrets were. Sure, it would be a big hit to his wallet—maybe even force him to borrow money—but it was still better than handing over cash to some gutter scum every week.
He was running a legitimate business. Why should those thugs get to rob him for free?
Noah was never okay with it—just powerless. But now that he had a chance to fight back, he wouldn’t stay a victim any longer.
“Deal. I’ll make the call later. Someone will contact you in a few days.”
Noah, overjoyed, comped Panam’s four beers and Leo’s cola, and after learning they were staying the night, even waived the lodging fees.
On the way to the motel rooms, Panam, tipsy, finally asked the question that had been bothering her. “Why help Noah? You know him?”
Leo smiled and threw the question back at her. “Can’t help someone I don’t know?”
That’s how it starts. Someone needs help, and you offer it. The more they need it, the deeper the bond can go. That’s how connections form. That’s how networks are built, one act at a time.
“Maybe I’m just soft. I hate seeing good people bullied by trash.”
Panam stared at him, eyes wide, trying to figure out if he was being honest. But in the end, she couldn’t tell.
“You’re a weird one.”
Leo chuckled. “Eight tomorrow morning. Meet at the bar?”
The convoy transporting Hellman wouldn’t leave for another day. They had one day to scout out an ideal ambush site.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Panam waved and went to her room. Leo, along with V and Lucy, entered theirs.
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Note: made a mistake about the name of the Hote. The one in the Badlans is Sunset Hotel, not No-Tell Motel. I fixed it in the private chapter so no worries there.
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