In less than twenty minutes, the crew had assembled.
Jack roared in on his bike from Heywood, thinking Roqi was joking when he heard it was an Afterlife gig. Once he realized it was real, he lit up with excitement.
V walked in cautiously, only to be stunned by how warmly Roqi, Mower, and Rogue were talking.
T-Bug had been there a while already, sitting quietly on the couch. Her face was calm, but inside, she was buzzing.
"Everyone's here," Roqi nodded, turning toward Rogue.
Even the couch under him suddenly felt stiffer—he couldn't help but sit a little straighter.
"Tell them what you told me," Rogue said, lifting her eyes.
"All of it?"
"All of it."
So Roqi laid it out—Johnny's situation, the job from Rogue, and the whole picture. As for Johnny and Rogue's history, he gave it a light literary gloss—enough to keep everyone satisfied and avoid being kicked out.
"¡Estás bromeando! (You're kidding!)" Jack stared at Rogue, whispering to himself, Damn, that's Rogue.
Compared to Dexter, Rogue was the fixer of fixers.
Working for her wasn't just a good gig. It was a career-changer.
So now, Rogue was the client. Roqi and the others were mercs.
Get paid. Solve the problem. Simple as that.
Unlike other gigs, Rogue was reliable, generous with pay, provided solid support, and made her stance crystal clear.
With Johnny on their side, they had the edge.
"Tell me what you're good at," Rogue said. "Since it's my job, I'm not settling for average."
She didn't need to posture. Her authority was woven into every word.
"Not average?" V asked, elbow on his knee.
"You pay for what you get," Rogue replied. "But this is important. I won't skimp. You need talent or gear? I'll supply it."
"Damn. That's generous," Jack grinned.
"No objections," T-Bug added. Her dream of buying a beachside mansion had gone up in smoke with the relic job. This side hustle might be her ticket out of Night City.
Surprisingly, she looked professional. No slouching. No sarcastic smirks.
T-Bug had every right to be picky. But when Rogue pays this well? No complaints.
Skill-wise, V and Jack were classic brawlers, though they could sneak when needed. T-Bug couldn't fight, but her netrunning was elite. Roqi's aim was mediocre—one reason Regina never hired him. But after snagging Satori from Saburo's ride, he embraced the blade. Night City Genji.
Fast, strong, and sharp. One slash. If not, two.
Then there was Mower. Silent, composed, and by far the most qualified.
A former Militech special forces lieutenant. Took down two squads of corpo elites. A product of the super soldier program. Expert in all weapons, gear, and cybertech. Battle-hardened. Always calm.
Textbook pro.
Compared to her, Roqi's crew were just scrappy freelancers. Bold, sure. But rough around the edges.
Thankfully, their past six months as mercs had taught them a lot.
"Good. I've got a sense of your strengths," Rogue nodded. "I'll work out the plan. Any questions? Now's the time."
They exchanged looks. Seemed like everyone was in.
"When do we move? What's first?"
"No rush," Rogue replied. "We wait for the intel. Then act."
She poured another drink, looking unusually cheerful.
The silence was thick. The sound of whiskey hitting glass was loud and clear.
Even for something so simple, everyone watched her. That's the kind of presence she had.
"Anders Hellman. First priority. If Kang Tao secures him fully, it'll be hell to reach him."
Rogue had made her decision.
"What about the Voodoo Boys? Are we sure it's them?" V asked, recalling the watermark from Evelyn's braindance.
"No doubt. Your description checks out. Don't worry—they're not going anywhere. The whole world knows Arasaka lost the relic, but they're probably out of the loop. They gave up and are hiding somewhere, scheming."
"Alright," V nodded. Then, more seriously, "And Arasaka? How do we stay safe?"
Rogue paused, eyebrow raised, amused.
"You think Arasaka's chasing you?"
Everyone froze.
"Have you even read the news?" she chuckled. "Hit at Konpeki. Saburo Arasaka dead. Then what? Yorinobu blamed Takemura."
"Wait…" Roqi blinked. "Shit—!"
"You get it."
To Yorinobu, Takemura was a threat. A loyal bodyguard chasing justice. So he became the scapegoat.
You? You didn't matter.
Rogue's expression dimmed briefly—but only for a moment.
Roqi turned the thought over.
In 2076, Night City's top 20 corps paid €700 billion in taxes.
That was just 0.7% of their income.
Their total revenue: €100 trillion.
A 1 followed by 14 zeros.
Relic cost a few billion to develop.
Roqi's team? Maybe worth a few million. On a good day.
He felt like an ant looking up at a god.
Yorinobu didn't even see them.
"Should I laugh or say fuck this city?"
[Why not both?] Johnny said.
So Arasaka had never been chasing them.
"Takemura got us into this mess?"
Jack scratched his head, wide-eyed.
"Now that you say it… yeah," Roqi laughed.
They'd been running from a ghost. Fighting the air.
T-Bug shook her head. She clearly felt the same.
The tension eased. Laughter bubbled up.
"Hell yeah!"
Roqi poured half a glass and downed it.
It burned. Hard.
Whether from Yorinobu's stash or Rogue's bar, it all hit like a truck.
He preferred vodka. Simpler. His bro's favorite.
Everyone swapped contact info. Rogue's team would call when ready.
Time to prep.
"Takemura's looking for Hellman too," V added.
"Why?"
Roqi couldn't recall a reason.
"Hellman tried to warn Saburo about Yorinobu. Takemura wanted him as a witness," Jack said.
"Too late now," Roqi sighed.
Takemura was being hunted. His cyberware had been shut down remotely.
There was no way he could grab Hellman solo.
He had other things to handle now—clearing his name, joining Hanako's faction, and re-entering the corpo war.
"Mind if I keep your PDA?" Rogue asked suddenly.
Roqi blinked, startled. Then remembered Rogue and Johnny's history.
He kept his face blank.
"Should be fine. Johnny's relic is slotted inside."
He bit back the bigger secret: that mysterious system even Johnny didn't know about.
Still, Rogue had the PDA and the earbuds. Not much he could do.
[Oh shit—Johnny, delete the study files! Now!]
[Now you want something? Beg me and maybe I will.] Johnny taunted.
"Sorry, my payment chip and contacts are in there," Roqi told Rogue. "And I don't have implants."
"No problem," she waved. "I'll have my people make a copy."
A merc soon handed Roqi a chip.
"Compensation. Doesn't count against your pay. Next time, I'll get you a new PDA."
Rogue was loaded. No doubt about it.
Everything was in motion now. All they had to do was wait.
Find Hellman before Kang Tao buried him too deep.
As Roqi stepped out of Afterlife, the air had never felt so fresh.
No Arasaka hunters. No Johnny yammering.
Jack invited V for a late-night snack. Maybe a visit to Misty.
Mower clung to Roqi, and Jack sped off, engine roaring.
Roqi looked up. A sliver of moon. No stars.
Same filthy air. But he felt lighter.
No shady motels. No bribing clerks.
Tonight, they got a clean, decent hotel. Twin beds.
And for once, tomorrow felt worth waiting for.
.
.
.
🤖 My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew?
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