📢 [NetSignal – Encrypted Broadcast from the Undernet]
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"Damn it, damn it, damn it!!!"
Royce gritted his teeth, sprinting through the halls.
He never expected that those two punk-looking idiots would actually tamper with the payment chip and hack into Maelstrom's network.
The netrunner who had linked into the All Foods factory system was fried on the spot, his nerves literally smoking.
Royce hadn't even enjoyed his time as the new leader—hadn't tasted the thrill of absolute power—when this shitstorm hit him in the face. The burning rage and humiliation consumed his thoughts.
He was going to climb into that stolen mech and incinerate those bastards with its high-caliber thermal cannon!
BANG!!
He kicked the door open.
"Get my damn mech—"
He froze mid-shout. His glowing red optics widened.
Ahead of him stood three identical matte-gray mechs, lined up like an execution squad, barrels pointed straight at him.
"Surprise, motherfucker~"
Roqi sat grinning atop the middle mech.
If Maelstrom had managed to steal a Militech mech, it only made sense Militech had others.
Roqi had slipped out through the back, just in time to run into the inbound Militech strike team. After a quick "chat" (read: interrogation) with Meredith Stout, the angry Militech exec, their forces launched a pincer attack from front and rear.
Roqi? He suited up in the very mech Maelstrom had stolen—just in time to give Royce a little greeting.
Warning: Royce. Major danger ahead.
"Fire," Stout ordered coldly, arms crossed.
Two Militech soldiers, faces hidden behind sleek visors, pulled their triggers.
WHIRRRR— ZAP!!
Twin beams blasted forward, melting through the gate and vaporizing Royce into swiss-cheesed meat in under a second.
He didn't even scream.
"Ababababa…"
Roqi blinked, frozen.
∑(°Д°ノ)ノ Holy shit ↗!!!
"Goddamn… good thing I flipped the script."
He let out a long breath, still shaking a bit.
He'd just realized—if he hadn't pulled off that reverse op, the three of them would've been facing this exact mech.
No joke—no armor plating could withstand those cannons. One shot, and you're prepping the funeral.
"¡Madre mía!" came a familiar voice.
Jackie peeked around the corner and nearly jumped out of his skin. He didn't even recognize the charred mess at first.
"Don't shoot! Friendly!" Roqi shouted immediately, waving off the Militech troops.
"Hey! Jackie! V! I'm up here!" Roqi waved from the top of the mech.
"Oh shit, it's Lucky!" Jackie lit up. "Where's that crazy Militech chick…"
V stepped up from behind him. After confirming it was safe, he hopped down.
"You know," Stout said, taking a drag from her luxury cigarette, "I like how you boys operate. Care to keep working with us?"
She waved her hand. Militech troops swept into the factory.
The two mechs on standby eyed Roqi's mech cautiously, but Stout gestured for them to back off.
When the boss talks black-ops business, everyone else knows to stay the hell out of earshot—if they like living.
"Could be worth considering," V said, glancing at Roqi. Roqi gave a small, knowing nod.
"Next time, then. The company's quite impressed," Stout said coolly. "Heard you lost a Flathead. Probably 'fell off' a transport. Shame about the mech, too… Militech's not getting that back, huh?"
"We work well together."
She gave Roqi a squint and the smallest of smirks.
She flicked her cigarette, letting it fall to the ground before grinding it under her heel.
And with that, she turned and strode off, boots clicking with command presence.
Her two bodyguards—both towering slabs of muscle—glared at Roqi through their shades before following her out.
"Damn, Lucky—you're something else," Jackie said, smacking Roqi's shoulder. His eyes practically sparkled at the mech. "That was badass, bro."
"Wait, what about Royce? Did that bastard get away?"
"Nope. That pile you stepped on earlier? That was him," Roqi said, pointing at the burned corpse near the door. "Cooked by this baby."
"What? How the hell did you get Stout to give you a Militech mech?" V asked.
"Anthony Gilchrist," Roqi said with a smug grin as he slid back inside the mech's cockpit. "You think Maelstrom hijacking a whole Militech convoy was a fluke?"
"You gave her the mole?" V asked, eyes wide.
"Yep. Poor bastard was under pressure from Smasher."
"Smasher?! You mean Adam Smasher?" Jackie's jaw dropped. He never imagined he'd end up even tangentially tied to that walking nightmare.
Roqi → deals with Stout
Stout → rivals Gilchrist
Gilchrist → blackmailed by Smasher
Which means… Jackie kinda knows Smasher?!
Damn, Jackie was making it big!
And next up was Afterlife. Time to meet with Dexter DeShawn and plan the Relic heist.
For the first time, Jackie felt like they were moving up in the world—really leaving small-time behind.
"Tell Dex we got the job done. Let's meet at Afterlife later," Jackie said, leaning on a wall. "Man, I really thought we weren't gonna make it."
"Don't even say the name—Afterlife. Bad omen," Roqi muttered, face tense.
"Huh? What's that about?" Jackie asked.
V stepped off to call Dexter, while Roqi and Jackie stood off to the side.
"We're not wasting time. We go now. Right now. The faster, the better."
Jackie didn't get it—but he trusted Roqi. Always had.
V gave them an "OK" sign, still on the call with Dex.
"...all set. What's next?" V said into the phone. "Cool. On my way now."
He turned and snapped his fingers. "Dex is waiting at Afterlife. We heading out?"
"Yeah. You two go on ahead."
Roqi stood silently, staring at the sky. His brow furrowed, eyes distant.
"Us two again?" Jackie asked. "You planning something?"
"…"
Roqi didn't answer.
He just looked at Jackie's broad, familiar, slightly goofy face. His vision unfocused.
"Wishing you glory… and a legacy that outshines the world."
Roqi smiled, quiet and faint.
.
.
.
📢 Cyberpunk Alert! 📢
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