A few minutes ago, V was driving toward the fixer Johnson's hideout.
Yogan fiddled with his gun in the passenger seat. "This fixer's business range is pretty wide—never thought he'd be dabbling in cyberware trade too."
"Not surprising. Would be odd if a street fixer didn't have a few side hustles."
"True, but running it like this? Not afraid of wrecking his reputation? He owes money left and right—might as well be called a deadbeat. I thought just owing mercs was bad enough. Turns out he even owes Vik gear."
V snorted. "Not just Vik. According to him, a bunch of ripperdocs around here all get supplies from Johnson."
Yogan cradled the gun in his arms. "Vik may look kind and friendly, but he's a tough bastard."
V raised an eyebrow.
"He tells a merc that someone owes him money and drops his location like it's nothing. Obviously hoping that merc gives the guy a 'lesson'. Then even adds a gig on top? The message is clear—go give Johnson a good beating."
A small smirk tugged at V's lips. "Still, thanks to Vik. That busted chip's already tangled up two megacorps. Best to avoid getting any deeper. I just want my damn money."
"But V," Yogan said, "you'll need some luck. If Johnson changes his mind and raises the price, the corp might just send a kill squad to blow his head off."
V frowned and said nothing, just stepped harder on the gas.
A while later.
"We're here." V pulled up, jumped out first. Yogan followed closely. V stood on the sidewalk, racking her pistol. "Get ready. We've got a score to settle."
They entered the building. It was only seven stories tall—one of the older cheap housing units in Night City. Over time, squatters had built illegal extensions connecting the place to nearby structures.
Inside, it was quiet. And filthy. Trash everywhere—glass bottles, plastic bags, rotting food, even mattresses used by homeless squatters. Graffiti stained the walls, now faded and dirty. The corners reeked of water damage and suspicious substances, attracting swarms of buzzing flies.
Yogan covered his nose. The stench was overwhelming.
V grimaced, waving a hand in front of her face. "Can't believe a fixer with that much cash is living in this dump."
They kept walking.
Then, Yogan spotted something in a side room and quickly pulled V back.
Inside were several mangled corpses tossed in a corner, carelessly covered by junk—whoever did it hadn't bothered with cleanup.
V poked the debris aside with her pistol. Blood had dried dark brown. Splatters marked the wall behind.
"Guess we found the owners of those mattresses," Yogan muttered, crouching down. "Stiff. Dead for a while—but not more than a day."
V found several bullet holes on the wall, some containing metal shrapnel and electronic fragments.
Her face darkened. "Looks like smart rounds. Only corp goons can afford that kind of firepower."
Realizing something was wrong, V and Yogan turned to leave. Suddenly, a holo-call rang out—shattering the silence.
They looked at each other, unsure whether to answer. The timing was too perfect. They found bodies and bam—a call comes in. Smelled like a trap.
They headed toward the exit. The call timed out.
Just when they thought it was over—it rang again.
V gritted her teeth. If it was a trap, they were already in too deep. She signaled to Yogan, who nodded and began watching their surroundings.
V answered and switched to speaker.
"You—" she began.
A cold woman's voice cut her off. Rapid but precise. "The building is surrounded by Arasaka agents. If you want to live, do exactly as I say."
"The hell are you?"
"Me? You can call me... 'V'."
The street-kid V's face twisted—Is this woman kidding me? Yogan almost burst out laughing. Great, another cybergrim reaper named V. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if a drifter showed up in a junker, also claiming to be V.
The caller ignored their reactions.
"I'm uploading a program now. It'll transmit what you see and mark key data in your vision. I'll help you avoid heavily guarded routes. But getting out? That's on you."
She paused. Her scan had found no cyberware on Yogan. Odd—but not important.
"Corpos are moving in. Head upstairs. Good luck."
V (street kid) asked, "Why are you helping us?"
"Because you're useful to me alive."
Useless answer. V scowled. A mysterious caller, issuing orders under threat, uploading malware straight into their system…
She was about to explode, but Yogan stopped her. "Wait, Valeria. Just listen. If she needs us alive, she's probably not sabotaging us. Killing us now helps her how?"
The caller said nothing more—just kept sending intel.
"There are seven Arasaka agents outside. All armed with smart SMGs. Your only chance is the fourth floor. There's a route to another building there."
"The fourth floor?"
"That's right."
Now V (street kid) was sure: the caller was up to something.
According to Vik, Johnson's office was on the fourth floor. Dead bodies here? Definitely corpo work. Their operatives might still be in the building. And with Johnson ghosting them, odds were high the corpos were here for him.
Heading to the fourth floor would be walking into a lion's den.
Then the woman added, "Also—Johnson's computer has your comm records. If you don't want the corpos to trace you, destroy the data on your way out."
Well, hell. Looks like they had no choice but to jump into the fire.
---
Fourth floor, Johnson's office.
Two corp agents were still rummaging for info.
The Arasaka hacker discovered something. "Huh. The old man had a hidden passage."
The agent with gorilla arms grunted. "Anything useful?"
"Nope. Just an escape route in case someone came gunning for him." A voice came through the comms. "Found something. Two mercs just entered. Might be looking for Johnson. Take them—we might get intel."
Gorilla Arms stood up and cracked his knuckles. "Where are they?"
"Second floor. We also found those homeless bodies. Our people are waiting outside."
"Let's go. I've had enough of this dump."
"Wait. They're still alert. Since we control the outside, they've got nowhere to run. Why not set an ambush here? Better chance to grab them alive."
"Fine. Let me know when they're up." He sat back in a chair.
The hacker sighed. "Two signals. One real person. The other has only a heartbeat—probably a decoy. Seriously? Using fake heartbeats in this day and age?"
He scanned again. "Wait… The other one's cloaked—tight. Damn good hacker, hiding that clean. Can't pinpoint the location. Be careful when you engage."
He grinned. "Actually… that's good news. You don't find street-level hackers this skilled every day. Could be one of ours. Let's see if we can catch this big fish."