Chapter 107: Then Let's Call It... Edgerunners
Kiwi almost went over and kicked Pilar herself, but the slippery bastard saw her coming and bolted before she could strike.
"Are you guys selling guns here?"
"When's the shop opening? Can we take a look inside now?"
Kiwi turned her head toward the voice, then nodded at Gloria, who was currently directing Chris and his crew on how to smash a wall properly.
"Go ask the redhead over there," Kiwi said coolly. "She's the boss."
The mercs looked over. Gloria's beautiful red hair was tied back in a ponytail, sweat glistening on her pale neck. She wore a yellow EMT jacket over black pants, alternating between shouting instructions and sketching something on a datapad.
A few mercs approached her. Chris happened to be walking past, carrying a sledgehammer. One of the mercs, a guy Chris knew vaguely, called out to him.
"Chris, what are you doing?"
Chris looked at the guy. His face was covered in plaster dust from the demolition.
He glanced at the two buddies he'd brought into the fold. They were currently trying to bend rebar, their faces purple with exertion.
Then, Rebecca walked over, rolling up her sleeves. She asked Dorio to lift her up. Dorio hoisted the gremlin, and Rebecca grabbed the rebar—thick as a thumb—and just... bent it. Like it was a pipe cleaner.
Holy shit. What kind of monster strength is that?
Chris's mouth twitched. He finally understood why Rhys told him never to piss off Rebecca. It wasn't just her temper; she was strong enough to rip his arms off.
"Chris! Chris?!"
"Uh, what?"
"I asked what you're doing," the merc repeated, hesitating. "Are you working for Maine's Crew?"
Honestly, this guy didn't want to hear a 'yes.'
Maine's Crew wasn't just an average merc squad anymore. They might look rough around the edges right now, but everyone knew their potential was skyrocketing.
Every fixer in Night City knew about them. Rogue, the Queen of Fixers, was their ally.
The wildest part was the Japantown incident. They killed an Arasaka exec, wrecked half the district, and somehow... nothing happened. No massive retaliation, no death squads. They were back in Night City, living openly. That meant they had serious backing.
So, naturally, this merc didn't want Chris, who had fallen from grace, to suddenly land in a sweet spot.
Before, Chris ranked higher than him at the Afterlife. When Chris screwed up and dropped in the rankings, this guy had been thrilled.
Proof that in this business, your colleagues are your enemies.
"Are you blind? I'm holding a sledgehammer. What does it look like I'm doing?" Chris snapped.
For the past few days, he'd been running errands with Maine and Jackie. Even though he was technically their senior in terms of merc experience, the street didn't care about seniority. It cared about strength. So Chris called everyone in the crew "Boss" or "Big Sis" without hesitation.
Even Rebecca, who looked like a child. At first, his buddies had balked at calling a little girl "Big Sis." It was embarrassing.
But then they went drinking. Rebecca walked up to a punching machine, blew on her fist, and smashed the machine to pieces with one casual punch.
After that? It was "Big Sis Rebecca" all night long.
The merc's face darkened. He was about to retort when a voice called out.
"Chris! Come here a sec!"
Chris looked over. It was Rhys. He immediately ignored the other merc and jogged over to Rhys.
"Damn, that's Rhys. The black-haired Asian kid. Looks like Chris really did join Maine's... family?"
"Better tell Mabry to watch his back. If he sees Chris, he should probably cross the street..."
"I went to the street protest too! Is it too late for me to join?"
The mercs whispered among themselves, watching Chris stand before Rhys.
Rhys looked at Chris and laughed. "Relax. I just wanted to ask what your plans are."
"I'll do whatever you say, Boss," Chris said immediately.
Are you kidding? I latched onto this golden thigh, and I'm never letting go!
"Well, the security company is still in the planning stages. We don't have enough manpower yet. Since you and your friends are here and need work... why don't you help Gloria run the gun shop? You'll get the base salary for the security company, plus extra for the shop work."
"That..." Chris paused. "The base salary is enough for me to live on. I can do the shop work for free..."
"Stop," Rhys said seriously. "Hiring an elite merc like you for a thousand eddies a month is already robbery. If I paid you nothing, I'd feel like a scumbag."
Jackie had told him Chris used to pull in twenty thousand a month. Sure, it was blood money, and most of it went to ammo and repairs, but his living expenses were still high.
And now Rhys was hiring him for a thousand eddies a month? It was ridiculous.
A thousand eddies. In Santo Domingo, that barely got you a shack in the slums. Maybe it was enough for a civilian to survive, but for a merc?
"Base salary one thousand. Shop salary... honestly, I can't pay much right now, so let's say another thousand. Two thousand a month. How's that?"
"It's enough. More than enough," Chris nodded.
Was it low? Compared to his old income, yes.
But Maine had explained the security company structure. Once it was up and running, Chris would get commissions on missions.
Bodyguard work, investigations... it was similar to merc work, but safer. It was "legit." They had a company backing them.
Plus, joining now meant getting in on the ground floor. Being a founding member.
Anyone who survived the merc life for more than a few years wasn't stupid. Chris saw the long game.
"Alright. Starting tomorrow, you, Rice, and Dorman can live here. In your free time, you can hang out at the Afterlife. I'll tell Rogue. Don't worry, your pay will go up eventually." Rhys smiled and patted Chris's shoulder.
"Understood. I'll get back to work, Boss."
"Yeah, go ahead."
Chris walked away grinning, hefting his hammer to smash more walls under Gloria's direction.
"Have you thought of a name for the shop?" Rhys asked, walking over to Gloria.
Gloria turned around. "Shouldn't you decide that?"
"Me? I suck at names," Rhys admitted.
Gunblade: Shadowsong? If the system hadn't named it, he probably would have called it "Black Gun-Sword Thingy."
Look at the iconic weapons in the game. Byakko, Satori, Jinchu-Maru, Widow Maker, Black Unicorn, Cocktail Stick... and Sir John Phallustiff.
Okay, maybe not that last one.
Point is, Rhys had zero naming sense.
But Gloria just shrugged. "You're the majority shareholder. It's your call."
"How about using the family name?" Rhys suggested.
"You want to call it Maine's Gun Shop?" Gloria made a face. "Please, no. Besides, Maine already said you're the leader of this family."
"If you want to call it Rhys's Gun Shop and feel good about yourself, go ahead."
"..."
Rhys looked at the shop taking shape. He thought about Maine's idea of building a family, a gang.
He thought for a moment. "Then let's call it... Edgerunners."
"What's the difference between that and 'Mercenaries'?" Gloria blinked.
"No difference. Because we are edgerunners. And the people we recruit will be edgerunners too," Rhys said.
Edgerunners. People who lived on the edge, licking blood from a knife, always pushing their limits. Unlike gangers who just fought for turf, edgerunners walked the wire in a world where one misstep meant oblivion.
Gloria looked down, thinking. Then she looked up and smiled. "Hmm... actually, not bad."
"The shop is for serving edgerunners anyway. The name fits. So... is that the family name too?"
Rhys hadn't really thought about the family name. But after a second, he nodded. "Yeah. Let's go with that."
"Maine!" Gloria called out.
"Yeah?" Maine turned from chatting with Jackie.
"Rhys picked a name for the family."
Maine's eyes lit up. He strode over, Jackie following close behind.
Nearby, Pilar woke up from his nap in the car and got out. Kiwi tossed her cigarette and walked over.
Lucy and Sasha hadn't come to the Afterlife; they were busy scouring the Net for intel to help set up the security company.
So, the group gathered around. Maine looked at Rhys excitedly. "What's the name?"
"Edgerunners."
"Huh? Isn't that just... a profession?"
"Yeah. But I thought about it, and it sounds pretty good," Rhys said.
Maine pondered for a few seconds. "Actually... yeah. It works. If anyone asks, we tell them we all came from the edge. Why can't we use it?"
The name was set. Edgerunners Family.
Rhys didn't overthink it. He was bad at names, and this one fit their lives. It would attract the right kind of people.
Rhys wasn't planning on competing with corps for tech or manufacturing. That was impossible. The class divide was too great. Developing a new drug or implant cost billions and required armies of researchers.
The Edgerunners Family?
Currently, they had about a dozen people... and some of them were functionally illiterate.
So... it just sounded cool.
Late Night. Watson, Northern Apartments.
Rhys got dressed and opened his door, only to be stopped by a voice from the bed.
"Where are you going this late?"
Rhys turned. Sasha was bundled up in his blanket, rolling around like a caterpillar on his small bed.
He laughed. "Going out. Got some business."
"Mmhmm... going to cheat on me?" Sasha narrowed her eyes, her tone playful but dangerous.
Rhys scoffed. "Cheat my ass. I'm going to deal with the Tyger Claws."
Sasha immediately wriggled her arms free, trying to sit up. "I'm coming. I can hel—"
"No need. I'm hitting a small Claw squad. One person is better for stealth. Too many people just complicates things," Rhys said.
He zipped up his black tracksuit, activated his facial camouflage, and pulled his cap low. He smiled at Sasha. "Go back to sleep."
He closed the door.
Stepping out of the building, Rhys walked into the dark alleyways.
Late-night Watson was dangerous. More dangerous than Santo Domingo or Heywood.
Animals, Maelstrom, Scavs, Tyger Claws... every predator in the city hunted here at night.
And Rhys's target was the Tyger Claws.
He hadn't forgotten what he said when he came back.
He was going to drive the Tyger Claws out of Night City.
So... let's start with the small fry.
He pulled his cap down further. His eyes shone clear and cold in the darkness. His figure faded into the shadows.
Silent. Deadly.