No one would dare come to his aid. In Night City, calling NCPD already made you a model citizen; actually getting between a black-market dealer and four unknown assailants was a fool's errand.
As for surveillance cameras—this was Night City, not Sairis (the fictional super-surveilled region). All of the States combined didn't have as many cameras as a single big city in Sairis did.
The dealer, well aware of this reality, didn't dare put up a fight. Trembling, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small disposable pouch, handing it over.
"This is a good start." Leo took the pouch without opening it, tossing it lightly into the air and catching it a few times before he spoke again. "Second… Tell me honestly where this black braindance came from. Who's supplying you?"
The man's eyes shifted rapidly. Hoping to mislead them, he blurted, "The Tyger Claws gave it to me! I'm working under the Tyger Claws."
"The Tyger Claws?" Leo looked over his shoulder at the white-haired girl behind him. "Lucy."
"Hey, what are you—?" The dealer's face contorted in alarm as he tried to resist, but Leo forced his head down against the ground. Lucy extended a personal link from her wrist and jammed it into the dealer's neural port, ignoring his frantic protests.
The moment Lucy jacked into the black BD dealer's neural interface, she swiftly found the information Leo was after.
"His name is Lenny Nero. He's in regular contact with someone called Gottfrid Pärsson—a black BD editor who specializes in creating these braindances."
She glanced at the man pinned under Leo's arm. "They aren't just business partners; they're friends. But a while back, they had a falling-out."
Leo looked down at the squirming dealer. "What kind of falling-out?"
"Gottfrid dragged his own son into the editing process as an assistant. Lenny here felt it was crossing a line. They had a huge fight over it."
"Pulling his own son into cutting black BDs? What the hell…" Jackie muttered. "So that priest's kid got killed by that father-son duo?"
Lucy nodded. "Yes. As for Gottfrid's location…"
"Does he have it in his memory?" Leo asked.
Lucy paused, scanning. "Wait… found it. They're holed up in an abandoned factory zone in Northside Industrial. They've also teamed up with the Maelstrom gang for protection."
Leo nodded in satisfaction. "That's all we need. Pull out."
Lucy retracted the link, letting the cable coil back into her wrist. Jackie nodded at the dealer still pinned to the ground. "So what do we do with this scumbag?"
"Please, let me go," the man whimpered. "I've got an eighty-year-old mother, an eight-year-old kid, a disabled wife waiting—"
Lucy cut him off mercilessly. "All lies. This guy lives alone. He has no wife, no kids, no elderly parents."
Leo eyed the trembling dealer with cold contempt.
"No market, no victims," he said quietly. "If no one's buying, no one bothers producing black braindances. In a sense, even if you haven't killed anyone yourself, you've got blood on your hands for helping them spread."
The dealer's face froze. Leo's words were a death sentence.
…
Decades ago, Northside Industrial had been lined with factories, providing thousands of jobs and fueling Night City's economy. It was once called the "Little Manchester" of Night City.
But now, the outdated factories and laborers were left behind by the times, with only their towering smokestacks remaining—like tombstones of a bygone era.
At one run-down industrial park, a Maelstrom gang goon, assigned to guard the entrance so no one wandered in by mistake, grumbled to his companion:
"Our boss and that chick are holed up in their castle calling the shots, like I'm just some dog they feed."
His companion didn't share his outrage. "Oh, shut it. At least the pay's decent."
"What, so money's all that matters in Night City?" the first one retorted.
"'I hate it here,' yeah? Go tell Royce about your feelings. I'll lend you ten spines if you think you can survive that talk."
Hearing Royce's name, the first Maelstrom member clamored up, but he lost his nerve. He only scowled bitterly. "I should just short-circuit myself out of this misery…"
That was when they noticed a young man in a white coat, a sword at his hip, strolling toward them.
Already in a foul mood, the first goon seized on this chance to vent his frustration. "Hey, this is Maelstrom turf. No private tours. Get lost!"
The white-coated man did not respond—he kept walking, unhurriedly.
"Is your hearing busted, pendejo?" The goon hopped the barrier, took a few steps, and pulled his pistol. With his thumb, he cocked the hammer.
He never managed another word. The stranger vanished in a flash, abruptly appearing before him and jamming the scabbard under his chin. Before the goon knew what happened, Leo pulled the scabbard's trigger.
Bang!
The compressed mechanism ejected the Muramasa blade explosively, carrying the stunned Maelstromer skyward along with it.
His companion watched, slack-jawed, as the first goon soared overhead. Then he turned to Leo in shock. Instinctively, he tried to raise his "Copperhead" kinetic rifle, but Leo smacked it away with the scabbard. Leo planted a foot on the second goon's knee, then used his head as a stepping stone.
Launching himself upward, Leo caught the free-falling Muramasa midair. In one smooth motion, he slashed the airborne Maelstrom goon in half before gravity could take him down. Blood rained as the body fell in two separate pieces.
Then Leo sprang forward to the other man scrambling for his fallen gun. All the Maelstromer saw was a scarlet flash as the blade cut across his throat.
Splurch—
A fountain of blood erupted, and a headless body collapsed in the dirt.
Instantly, commotion spread through the factory grounds. Hearing the fighting, more Maelstromers poured out, just in time to see Leo disappearing behind a corner.
"Bastard dared come wreck our turf? If we don't kill him, how will Maelstrom keep any cred in Watson?" They howled after him, splitting up. Most gave chase, leaving only a few behind to guard the site.
They pursued him onto the main street, firing wildly. Bullets ricocheted off concrete and metal, kicking up dust. Fortunately, Northside Industrial was mostly deserted, and folks avoided Maelstrom territory like the plague, so the roads were practically empty. The only ones present were the fleeing Leo and the gangsters behind him.
Despite their constant gunfire, Leo zigzagged flawlessly, and not a single round struck home. Before long, he darted into a narrow alley as if he'd made a careless mistake. The Maelstromer's eyes lit up—clearly, this fool had no idea the place was a dead end. They laughed among themselves and followed him in.
The alley was tight, scarcely wide enough for two people side by side. They crept deeper, finding no trace of Leo, guessing he must have pressed further in. Just then, a soft sound from above made them glance up.
Leo dropped out of the sky, having hidden on an outdoor air-conditioning unit overhead.
Wham!
He slammed straight onto the first Maelstromer's head. A loud snap signaled a broken neck. The man's head lolled to one side like a ragdoll.
Leo tucked into a roll and rose with a large-caliber revolver in hand.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
One by one, five bullets punched into five foreheads, eye sockets, or throats. Four men dropped, leaving two more. One of them let out a furious bellow, returning fire.