Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077

Chapter 230 - 230

He had called for an ambulance, thinking it would pull him out of the mess, but what he hadn't expected was that the ambulance had business ties with the Scavengers. The medic inside knocked him out with a chloroform-soaked cloth laced with sevoflurane. When he regained consciousness, he found himself at a Scavenger hideout.

Fortunately, because of the number of cyberware implants in his body, the Scavs decided to hold off on dealing with him right away. Unfortunately, being dissected alive was only a matter of time.

"Stop scaring him, Fegashevsky, you idiot. If he pisses himself, you're cleaning it up," snapped Liptov as he shoved the Scav who had just grinned at Max.

He walked to the sink, turned on the faucet, and let the water run over his bloodstained hands, rinsing away the gore. "Trachev, the two people I asked you to find—any news yet?"

Another Scavenger ripped off his bloodied gloves and tossed them to the floor with a wet slap. "I asked around. That old Korean lady living across the street said it was a big guy from the Valentinos, a young guy from the Slavs, a white woman, and a half-Japanese chick. They're the ones who trashed your brother's place in Japantown."

"Those sons of bitches. Came looking for that Corpo woman, Sandra Dorsett, and killed my brother on their way out. You got connections in the afterlife? Ask around. I need to know who did this! This isn't over."

Bang!

Before Liptov could finish, a Scavenger from upstairs came tumbling down the stairs, slamming into the basement wall, his neck snapping with a crisp crack, folding at a perfect ninety degrees.

"Who's there?!"

The sudden chaos left Liptov both shocked and furious. He reached for his weapon, but in that moment, time itself seemed to freeze.

A white figure shot down the stairs, gliding past Liptov, Fegashevsky, and Trachev in a flash. Then, time resumed.

Simultaneously, all three of their necks burst open, jets of blood spraying out like crimson fountains, painting the walls and ceiling in vivid red. The three collapsed one after another, the life draining from their eyes.

Max stared, dumbfounded. His mind struggled to process what had just happened. Moments ago, these Scavs were ready to carve him up, and now, they lay dead at his feet, someone else's victims.

It was only then that he noticed Leo, dressed in a white trench coat, standing calmly in the basement, a faint smile in his eyes.

"Need a hand, Max?"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Max's emotions were a rollercoaster. He had thought himself doomed, only for fate to throw him a lifeline.

"Regina sent me."

At the mention of Regina's name, Max's joy visibly deflated. Seeing his sour expression, Leo raised an eyebrow. "You and Regina got beef?"

"She used to be the best journalist I knew. My mentor, even. Now? Pfft. She sold her soul."

It seemed the two really did have a falling out. Leo didn't know what kind of grudge Max was holding, but it was obvious it ran deep. In his eyes, Regina was probably the most righteous fixer in Night City, bar none. On another day, Leo might have given Max a piece of his mind, but this was not the place for it.

The room reeked of blood and rot, littered with hooks, ice tubs, and fresh gore. A good set for a horror movie, but terrible for a chat.

"Let's go. I'll get you out of here."

Leo cut the restraints from Max's wrists and ankles, then ripped off the tape over his mouth.

"Wait, give me a gun."

"You won't need one. I've already dealt with the Scavs upstairs. Only one left, and he's no threat to you."

Leo waved his hand, signaling Max to follow. To Leo, these were just small fry—not worth Jackie or V's time, let alone his.

The basement wasn't just a single room; it was a series of connected chambers with considerable space. There were two exits: one was the entrance Leo had used, connected to a residential building, while the other...

A sliding automatic door opened with a hiss, revealing a strange room. The walls were lined with wrenches of various sizes, while the cabinets were cluttered with empty liquor bottles.

A man sat in a chair, staring at them in shock. His outfit was even stranger: a blue surgical cap on his head, but no lab coat. From appearance alone, it was unclear what his role was.

Seeing Leo and Max emerge, the man panicked, stammering incoherently. "W-where did you come from? I don't know anything! I swear! They forced me! Said if I ran, I'd be next on the table!"

Leo didn't listen. Without a word, he drew his tech revolver and blew the man's brains out.

The corpse slumped against the chair, a fist-sized hole gaping in his forehead, clear through to the wall behind him.

"What the fuck?!" Max recoiled, instinctively stepping back, ready to bolt. He barely knew Leo. They'd only met twice before. Despite Leo saving him just now, this ruthless execution was beyond what Max could comprehend.

Leo casually blew at the revolver's barrel, though no smoke remained, and holstered the weapon. "He was lying. Before I came down to rescue you, I checked the terminal upstairs. His chat logs with the Scavs were all there. Same old routine—Scavs snatch people, harvest organs, and he sells them off. You can see it for yourself if you don't believe me."

Leo stepped out of the room. Beyond was a narrow alleyway. As he opened the door, sunlight poured in. After being locked underground for so long, Max reflexively shielded his eyes.

It took a moment before his vision adjusted, and when he finally looked up in the direction Leo pointed, he saw it—a shop sign hanging boldly.

In Night City, there was an unspoken rule: if a place has an "Open" sign but doesn't specify what it sells, it almost certainly deals in illegal cyberware or human organ trafficking.

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