IDKjust
patreon
Chapter 81 c
🕑 Added 2025-03-14 16:49:34 +0000 UTCChapter 81 c
Leo walked up to the bar counter. Claire gave him a quick once-over and asked, “So, want a drink?”
“No need. I’m here to see Rogue.”
“Rogue usually stays in her private booth. It’s just…I’m not sure if she’ll be willing…” Claire trailed off, but Leo understood perfectly.
“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt to try, right?”
He said goodbye to Claire and headed straight for the booth opposite the bar. A mercenary stood at the entrance—anyone who’d hung around the Afterlife for a while recognized him: Crispin “Squama” Weyland. Yeah, the son of the legendary Andrew “ Boa Boa” Weyland.
As soon as Leo approached, Crispin moved to block him. “Stop right there. This is a private area. No invitation, no entry. If you’re looking for fun, talk to Claire; she’s got all the drinks you need.”
Leo glanced past Crispin and then fixed his gaze on him. “I’m here to see Rogue.”
A woman’s voice echoed from inside the booth. “Let him in.”
Crispin stepped aside.
Inside, a woman in a yellow outfit sat on the couch. She looked like someone who had weathered countless storms, yet the passage of time had left no mark on her figure. Though she’d been famous as a merc back over fifty years ago—now pushing her seventies or even more—she still had the body of a woman in her thirties.
Rogue lounged there with her legs crossed, calmly sizing up Leo as he walked in. “Have a seat.”
Leo didn’t hesitate. He sat on the sofa to Rogue’s left. Rogue draped an arm across the back, turning slightly, eyes locked on him. “Do I know you?”
“I doubt it. But I know who you are—Night City’s top fixer, owner of the Afterlife, legendary ex-merc.”
Rogue inclined her head. “I appreciate the praise, but if you came here just to butter me up, you can leave now.”
“I’m hoping you can help me purchase something.”
Viktor had mentioned that if Leo wanted to replace all the red-flag implant areas on Lucy’s body with top-grade, genuine tech, only a fixer with real pull could secure that kind of gear. And right here before him sat the most well-connected fixer in Night City, bar none. Regina, Wakako Okada, Padre, Faraday, or El Capitán might rule their own districts, but Rogue reigned supreme over the entire city. Owning the legendary Afterlife was proof of that.
“Guns or cyberware?”
“Cyberware.”
“What kind of cyberware?”
Two golden lights flickered in Leo’s tactical display. He sent Rogue the item list. Her eyes glowed with the reflection of the data. “Huh…”
She skimmed it, showing no particular reaction. Leo couldn’t guess what might be going through the mind of this woman who held immense sway in the city’s merc and fixer scenes. She didn’t respond immediately, just snapped her fingers in the direction of the bar. “Two tequilas here.”
“Thanks, but I don’t drink.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I’ll take a cola on ice.”
Rogue arched a brow. “Cola on ice? You come to my place to watch your health?”
Sarcasm aside, Rogue still gave the order. “One tequila, one cola on ice.”
Claire served them soon enough, setting the glasses on the table. She started to leave but paused when Rogue said, “Leave the bottle.” Claire left a bottle of tequila on the table.
Leo picked up the cola. “To your health.”
Rogue raised her tequila, saluting him back. “And yours, kid. Doesn’t matter if you’re young or old—health’s always good to have.”
Leo emptied his cola in one go and set the glass down. “I’ll be blunt: can you get me what’s on that list?”
Rogue lit a cigarette and took a slow drag before putting it out. She uncrossed her legs and sat up, meeting Leo’s eyes with a serious gaze. “Are you serious about all that gear? It’s all fourth-gen. Even the biggest corporations only give fourth-gen implants to their elite field ops and soldiers.”
She paused. “I have to be direct, kid. The money for implants like that could rent you a nice villa in North Oak for a long, carefree vacation. Are you sure you can afford something like this?”
Rogue’s measured tone showed exactly why she was the queen of fixers. Had this been Wakako Okada, there would’ve been plenty of mockery. But Rogue merely laid out the facts. Even if she thought Leo had no idea how big he was aiming, she showed no outward contempt.
Leo dispelled her concerns by transferring the funds right then and there. Rogue glanced at the figure, her face shifting slightly even as her mind reeled. Where had this kid gotten so much money? Robbed Arasaka’s vaults?
What she didn’t know was how Leo had partnered with Padre, selling high-grade tech weapons at a massive profit; combined with the fact that he never wasted money on flash, parties, or drugs, he’d saved up a hefty sum.
Seeing the payment, Rogue had no more reason to doubt him. “Yes, I can get you what you want, but it’ll take time.”
Leo visibly relaxed. If Rogue had accepted, it meant there was nothing she couldn’t acquire. “If possible, I need it soon. I’m in a hurry.”
…
Leo left the Afterlife. The Delamain taxi he had called was still waiting outside. He opened the door, about to climb in, when someone shouted behind him, “Stop right there!”
He heard chaotic footsteps. The handful of punks who’d been glaring at him when he first entered the club had followed him all the way out. Onlookers scattered, no one wanting to get involved.
The punks gawked at the gleaming Delamain cab, then exchanged greedy looks. Two of them flanked Leo from either side, cutting off any escape.
“Damn, you’re riding Delamain? Where’d a punk like you get that kind of money?”
Leo’s face darkened. But he’d had a good day—his deal with Rogue had gone smoothly—so he decided to give them one final chance. “I’m in a decent mood today, so I’ll let you walk away. Now scram.”
“Kid, looks like you don’t get who’s in char—”
His words were cut short by a gunshot. If Leo did anything, he did it clean. In a blur, he squeezed both triggers, each hand gripping a big-caliber revolver. Muzzle flashes lit his cold expression. Passersby screamed and fled, or ducked to the ground covering their heads.
When the gunfire ceased, the would-be ambushers lay dead around him. Leo spun each revolver smoothly and slid them back into their holsters, as though nothing had happened. Then he got in the taxi.
A moment later, the Delamain vehicle pulled away, leaving only the corpses, their faces frozen in shock.
