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Chapter 229 c
🕑 Added 2025-05-16 15:04:01 +0000 UTCChapter 229 c
Of course, this was only Leo’s speculation for now. Whether it was really the Voodoo Boys involved, they would have to wait until Evelyn woke up to find out. He was about to say something else when his holo-call suddenly rang.
“Hey, Leo, long time no talk. I heard you’re working with Dexter now, making some big moves. How’s that going? Smooth?”
“Cut the crap, Regina. What do you want?”
Regina chuckled softly. “You know, Leo, sometimes being too blunt isn’t a good thing.”
“Everyone’s time is valuable. No need to waste it on pointless pleasantries. But if you insist… nice weather today, have you eaten?”
“…You’re impossible.” Regina pressed her forehead, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. I do have a job for you.”
“Let me guess, another Scavenger cleanup?”
Regina caught the subtle tone in his voice. “What’s up with you? Something wrong?”
There was no need to hide anything from Regina. It wasn’t even a secret. “We just got out of a Scav hideout. These Scavs weren’t just organ harvesters; they were running illegal braindance shoots, slicing up people for footage. It was a slaughterhouse.”
Now Regina understood Leo’s attitude. “Sounds bad.”
“It’s not that it sounds bad—it is bad.” Leo sighed. He wasn’t that fragile, but there were simply too many Scavs in this city. No matter how many you wiped out, more would crawl out from the cracks like rats and roaches.
“Alright, enough chit-chat. You’ve got business, so get to it. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I get to sleep.”
Regina nodded, fully understanding. “You know I used to be a journalist. Back in those days, digging up dirt, I made a friend. We even ran a podcast together—but that’s ancient history now. I’ve moved on, became a fixer. But he’s still in the same game.”
“I worry about him. I’ve tried to get him to quit, had more than a few arguments about it. He’s stubborn as hell, never listens. But that’s not the point. The point is, since yesterday, I haven’t been able to reach him. Twenty minutes ago, I got a local net login alert from his computer—at Eisenhower Street in Watson.”
Leo immediately understood what Regina was getting at. A reporter, digging up corporate dirt, in a city where not every journalist had been bought out. Some still did real journalism. But… those kinds of reporters rarely made it past Christmas.
“You’re worried someone’s out to get him?”
Regina sighed again. “Not worried. I’ve already received a hit contract on him. Night City’s never been kind to people who dig too deep. Because sometimes, they really do find secrets meant to stay buried. That’s why I’m asking for your help. Personally, I want him to live.”
“I get it, Regina. Send me the exact address. I’m not about to comb through Eisenhower Street house by house.”
“It’s sent. You should have it now. Thanks, Leo. Don’t worry, the pay will be worth your while.”
Leo told V and Jackie to head back and rest. This was something he could handle alone. He waited where he stood for the Fenrir bike to arrive. A few minutes later, he mounted up and sped toward Eisenhower Street.
“By the way, what’s your friend’s name?”
“He happens to share my last name, but we’re not related.”
A name flashed through Leo’s mind, slipping out instinctively. “Max Jones?”
Regina sounded even more surprised than Leo. “You know him?”
Leo gave a wry smile. “Long story.”
Max Jones—fairly well-known journalist in the city. His main focus was exposing corporate scandals and digging up the inhumane atrocities committed during the Fourth Corporate War. He also paid close attention to the treatment of war veterans, often speaking up for them, urging corporations to improve the lives of those who had bled and died in their service.
But megacorporations… you know how it is. Change? Not going to happen. Not in this lifetime. He could shout all he wanted, but nothing would change.
Watson District. Eisenhower Street.
The houses here were all low-rise buildings that had been standing for decades. You could tell the state of a neighborhood’s safety just by looking at its surroundings. In the basement of one of those houses, Max Jones was bound hand and foot, curled up in a corner.
He was terrified.
Moments ago, he had witnessed with his own eyes how the Scavengers butchered a living person, extracting every valuable piece of cyberware and organs.
God above, even animals get a quick death from butchers before processing. Of course, that’s what he’d read in books—after all, in the Night City of 2077, you couldn’t even find real animals anymore.
But these Scavs didn’t even blink while doing the same to their fellow humans. One of them, dressed like a butcher in a bloodstained apron, seemed to sense Max’s gaze. He turned his head, grinned, his face splattered with fresh blood, yet utterly unfazed. That grin sent chills down Max’s spine.
“Don’t worry. You’re up next.”
Max’s eyes widened, his breathing became ragged, cold sweat trickling down his forehead.
Previously, Max had hired Leo to meet with a contact at a homeless encampment. But when they arrived, they found Arasaka’s people had beaten them to it. The contact and the entire camp had been wiped out. Terrified, Max had gone into hiding for a while. When it seemed like Arasaka wasn’t coming after him, he returned to his old habits.
It wasn’t that Max had a particular grudge against Arasaka—he was against all megacorporations. If anyone exposed corporate corruption, he was interested. Yesterday morning, he received an anonymous tip-off, this time involving Zetatech.
Compared to Arasaka and Militech, Zetatech wasn’t as big or as famous. It had started as a small firm headquartered in Cupertino, specializing in computer hardware, software, and backend systems. Over the past thirty years, thanks to lucrative government contracts and diversification into avionics and drone manufacturing, Zetatech had grown into a transportation industry giant.
Their best-known products were armed helicopters for airports and security/combat/general-purpose drones, widely used by all major corporations—including Arasaka and Militech.
When Max learned it was corporate dirt again, he jumped into his car without hesitation and headed to meet the informant. But halfway there, he got caught in a shootout between NCPD and a gang. The entire street had turned into a warzone, bullets raining down like a storm. In the chaos, Max had taken a bullet to the thigh, bleeding heavily.
