Chapter 314
2-IN-1 chapter
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"Mr. Hands," Leo greeted him calmly, observing him. "What brings you here?"
Leo didn't know what Hands had looked like before—but right now, he looked vaguely like Pedro Pascal. You know—Oberyn Martell, the Mandalorian, Joel.
"I came to apologize," Mr. Hands said. "About that firefight you encountered on the overpass in Santo Domingo a few days ago. I'm deeply sorry."
"You were the one behind the Animals?" Leo's brows furrowed.
As mentioned earlier, Leo and Mr. Hands had never interacted. There was no grudge between them—no reason for Mr. Hands to try to have him killed.
And if Mr. Hands really had been behind it, why would he walk into Leo's base alone? Was he insane?
Realizing Leo misunderstood, Mr. Hands hurried to clarify.
"No, you've got it wrong. I didn't order the Animals to attack you. Let me explain…"
As Mr. Hands laid it all out, Leo finally understood what had happened.
Turns out, before Hector Salamanca was sent flying by a combat drone, he had reached out to Mr. Hands, asking for help contacting the strongest Animals crew in the city.
Mr. Hands had originally planned to connect Hector with the faction led by King Yeti—the current top crew.
Unfortunately, they were already under contract. Mr. Hands didn't say who the client was—it wasn't relevant. But Yeti's crew was unavailable.
So Mr. Hands found Hector the second-strongest Animals faction instead.
The same crew that had attacked Leo.
But Mr. Hands had only provided the contact. What Hector negotiated with them afterward was completely unknown to him.
It wasn't how things were usually done in Night City, but that was the truth.
In Night City, fixers always acted as intermediaries between clients and mercs. Depending on the job, some arranged face-to-face meetings, others didn't.
But in all cases, the fixer knew everything—the full scope of the job and its details.
Hector, however, had treated Mr. Hands like a directory hotline. Once he got the number, he ghosted the fixer. What was said between him and the Animals after that? Mr. Hands had no clue.
It wasn't until he saw the news today that he realized what had happened on the Santo Domingo overpass.
When his people told him Leo had been one of the targets, Mr. Hands nearly had a heart attack.
He never imagined that this job would end up involving Leo.
Right now, Leo's name carried serious weight in Night City's underworld.
Since Richard Night founded the city, many mercs had made legendary names for themselves.
But Leo wasn't following that path. Instead, he had chosen a different road: building a company—a private military contractor.
Starting a company like that required more than just money. You needed connections, too. Both, or you were dead in the water.
So rumors had spread quietly among fixers and mercs—there had to be someone powerful backing Leo. No one knew who it was.
When Mr. Hands realized what had happened, he panicked. He'd even broken his personal rule—showing up in person, just to apologize.
After hearing the full explanation, Leo finally understood.
So that's how it was.
Hector really was a cunning bastard. This time, he didn't use Salamanca Cartel hitmen. He played smart—hiring local help through a Night City fixer.
Clever.
Unfortunately, it had also been his last scheme.
As for Mr. Hands—Leo believed he was probably telling the truth.
With the reputation Leo had earned for retaliating swiftly and directly, if Mr. Hands had been complicit, he'd have already skipped town—not shown up here, gambling on Leo's mercy.
Top-level fixers weren't fools, and they didn't take others for fools either.
Anyone who tried to deal with people using lazy, patronizing words—treating others like they were easy to fool—was the real idiot.
Even if Mr. Hands truly hadn't known what happened, the incident had already occurred, and he was involved, no matter what. Saying "I didn't know" wasn't enough to wash his hands of it.
More importantly, Leo had no interest in being seen as someone easy to deal with—a pushover or a doormat.
"I know everything that happened. But Mr. Hands, no matter how you frame it, this incident still relates to you. So I assume you didn't come here empty-handed?"
Hands smiled, assuming he was showing good faith. "Of course not. I'm willing to offer €$100,000 as compensation for your distress."
Leo almost laughed out loud.
A hundred grand? Was he joking?
Or did Mr. Hands really believe Leo's life was worth only that much?
"€$100,000? If I were just a small-time merc, that might be enough to buy me off. But in this context, Mr. Hands—don't you think that's a bit insulting?"
At that, visible sweat beaded on Hands' forehead.
He quickly amended, "You're right—how about €$200,000? No—€$300,000!"
Now that was better.
If Hands had offered €$300,000 from the start, Leo might have accepted it, and the matter would be done.
But starting with just €1$00,000, as if tossing scraps to a beggar, rubbed Leo the wrong way.
He hated being tested.
He hated being taken for a fool.
"€$500,000. Give me half a million, and I'll consider the whole thing resolved. We can continue doing business happily."
"€$500,000... that's..."
It wasn't a small number.
Hands wouldn't be bankrupted by it, but the demand had still exceeded his expectations.
He'd anticipated Leo might ask for compensation—that was only logical. If their positions had been reversed, Hands would've done the same.
This wasn't about personal feelings or relationships.
True friends wouldn't bother with excuses or negotiations—they'd just do everything in their power to make things right.
It was only the ones unwilling to pay who started talking about "friendship" or "connections."
Like bosses who couldn't pay proper salaries and always talked up the company's future instead.
Hands had expected the max payout to be around €$300,000, especially considering Leo wasn't even injured in the attack.
That should have been more than enough.
He hadn't imagined Leo would push it to €$500,000.
Hands couldn't help but haggle. "Mr. Leo, isn't half a million a bit much?"
He felt wronged. He was only a fixer—a messenger—not the one who sicced the Animals on Leo.
And the moment he heard what happened, he came running.
He thought he'd shown plenty of sincerity.
But Leo was still pushing for this much—wasn't that excessive?
"Don't call me Mr. Leo. Call me Boss Leo, or Director Leo ."
Hands froze.
Then he understood. Leo wasn't just flexing his title—he was making a point.
Hands had been caught up comparing numbers—€$300,000 vs €$500,000—but forgot that Leo was no longer just a mercenary. He was now the head of a company.
Sure, that company might still be based out of a construction site. It wasn't famous, it was barely anything. But it was still a company.
Corpo giants like Arasaka or Militech might scoff at it, but fixers like Hands couldn't afford to.
So even if this payout stung a bit, it wasn't a loss.
"Apologies—that was thoughtless of me. You're right. €$500,000 it is. I don't have that much on me now, but I'll have someone deliver it in a few days. Is that acceptable?"
Leo's demeanor changed instantly. He smiled warmly.
"Of course. That's no problem."
He wasn't worried Hands would flake. The sum hurt, but not enough to make Hands risk his reputation.
Hands stood up. "I've got some business elsewhere. I'll take my leave."
As he passed Leo, he heard a voice behind him.
"One more thing, Mr. Hands. Even if you say you don't know the exact deal between Hector and the Animals—you were the one who connected them. That means you know where that crew's hideout is, right?"
Hands flinched, then quickly realized what Leo was planning.
He felt relieved he'd backed down earlier, and now he didn't hesitate—he gave up the Animal's location without a second thought.
It did not matter that it was a taboo...Better them than him.
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After nightfall, Rancho Coronado was especially quiet.
The Animals base was on the outskirts of Rancho Coronado, in a long-abandoned motel they'd taken over as their HQ.
Technically, this was still Six Street territory—but Six Street rarely came to the outskirts, especially not to areas with no profit. They had let the Animals claim this patch of dirt without resistance.
Leo parked the armored SUV several hundred meters away and shut off the lights.
He, V, and Lucy got out with their weapons, advancing under cover of darkness until only 300 meters remained between them and the motel.
Leo used his tactical goggles: over a hundred Animals were inside.
Although there were many inside the motel, most were asleep.
Only three Animals were on night shift in the surveillance room.
Two were dozing with their feet on the table. The third was playing on his phone.
Lucy's eyes flickered red, and the motel's exterior cameras went offline—power cut, limp and useless.
After cutting the surveillance feed, Leo handed her several laser trip mines. They would circle around to plant them at the back of the motel.
V stayed put, providing overwatch.
Leaning against a low wall, V mounted her Ajax kinetic assault rifle.
She didn't use the Breakthrough kinetic sniper rifle, nor the Nekomata tech sniper rifle.
With only 300 meters between them, the Ajax had more than enough range. And for suppressive fire, an assault rifle was a far better choice than a bolt-action sniper.
After Leo and Lucy disappeared into the dark, V was left alone with the cold night air.
Suddenly, she noticed movement—an Animal stepped out onto the second-floor walkway.
She quickly aimed the rifle and reported in.
"Leo, an Animal just came out onto the second floor. Should I take the shot?"
"Did he see you?"
"No."
"Then hold. Wait until he comes down or makes you. Then take the shot."
"Copy."
V kept her scope trained on the man's head.
She knew aiming center mass was more practical in combat—but a concrete wall along the balcony hid everything below the neck. She had no choice but to aim for the head.
The guy didn't come down. He just walked to the corner, unzipped, and took a leak—then returned to his room.
"Target returned inside."
"Got it."
"How's it going on your end?"
"Just a few more mines left to place."
V waited in silence. After a few minutes, the comms lit up again.
"We're done. Approaching from your two o'clock—don't shoot."
"Copy."
Moments later, Leo and Lucy returned, slipping back under cover beside V.
"Still quiet?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Split up. V, hold this position. Lucy, head back to where we came from. I'll take the opposite flank."
In modern gunfights, establishing multiple firing angles was critical. Cluster together, and you risk total suppression under enemy fire.
Each found a solid position.
Then came the call.
"You ready? Let's give the Animals a little surprise."
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