Chapter 109: The Legend of the Watson Slasher
Since he lived close to the North Industrial District, Rhys naturally took that route.
He knew it was a hotspot for Maelstrom gangers and Scavengers.
For Maelstrom, Rhys had a simple policy: if they didn't start shit, he wouldn't finish it.
Yes, Maelstrom were psychos who loved nothing more than abducting chrome-less civilians and forcing cyberware into them until they snapped. They were evil.
But this wasn't a video game. This was reality. Rhys wasn't V, the ultimate protagonist who could save everyone. He couldn't be everywhere at once.
As long as Maelstrom stayed out of his way, he'd ignore them. The Mox had a similar policy—avoid conflict at all costs. Their businesses didn't overlap with Maelstrom's, unlike with the Tyger Claws.
But Scavengers? That was different.
Not just because Korna had saved him from them when he was a kid. But because Rhys loathed them to his core. They preyed on everyone—mercs, gangers, even corpos. They kidnapped Mox girls.
Coming from a peaceful world in his past life, Rhys viewed human traffickers as the lowest form of life. Scavengers were even worse.
Scavs... he killed on sight. No questions asked.
In Night City's gang ecosystem, the Valentinos were traditional criminals—drug dealing, protection rackets—but they had a code. They looked out for their own.
The Tyger Claws were similar, though more corporate-aligned.
The Voodoo Boys were basically a techno-cult, obsessed with the Blackwall and rogue AIs.
The Animals worshipped muscle, Maelstrom worshipped chrome. Both were brain-damaged in their own ways.
6th Street had lost its way, becoming corporate pawns just like the Claws.
And the Mox? They were a mutual aid society for the vulnerable, making ends meet through joytoys and braindances.
But Scavs...
In the game, every gang showed up as yellow markers (neutral) until you provoked them. Except Scavs. They were always red (hostile). And the Mox? Always green (friendly).
Most players considered the Mox the only "good" gang. But they were weak. With Judy gone in the game's timeline, their future was bleak.
But things were different now. The Mox had Rhys.
Rhys patted the credchips in his pocket. Not a bad haul.
Cleaning up scum, helping the weak, and making some extra eddies on the side. Win-win-win.
He downloaded the funds, then tossed the empty shards into a dumpster.
Time to hunt some Tyger Claws.
After warming up on Scavs... he was ready for the main event.
"GOOOOD MORNING, NIGHT CITY!"
"IT'S YOUR OLD PAL, STANLEY!"
The shrill, grating voice blasted from the radio and TV. Sasha rubbed her eyes and stretched.
Stanley, that annoying bastard, was screeching again.
"It's time for everyone's favorite segment: The Body Count Lottery! Let's see... looking at the numbers... we have a grand total of one hundred and seven! Wow! We haven't hit triple digits in a while! Big thanks to the endless gang wars for bumping those numbers up! If you guessed right, call the number on your screen now to claim your prize! You know the drill!"
Sasha blinked, looking at the empty side of the bed.
Rhys had come back around 4 AM, reeking of blood. Sasha, still awake binge-watching her latest show, had immediately sent him to the shower.
Now he was gone. Probably grabbing breakfast with Maine and the crew.
Stanley continued his manic monologue: "But wait! There's a twist! Rumor has it a terrifying slasher is stalking the streets of Watson! Of last night's one hundred and seven lucky contestants, forty-two were from Watson alone! And once again, the NCPD arrived just in time to... fill out the paperwork!"
"Seriously, what do we pay taxes for? Just for them to tag our toes? Whatever happened to 'Protect and Serve'? Ah! I'm being told that was just my personal opinion and does not reflect the views of WNS News! Please don't arrest me, officers!"
"Anyway, back to business! According to NCPD reports, thirty-seven of the Watson victims were gang affiliated. Sixteen Scavengers—nasty pieces of work, good riddance! And twenty-one Tyger Claws. All killed in gruesome fashion. Even their bikes were smashed to pieces! Tsk tsk, what a waste of eddies."
"The NCPD has issued an advisory: avoid wandering Watson alone at night. This 'Watson Slasher' is suspected to be a high-functioning cyberpsycho. Only a psycho could single-handedly flatline that many gangers!"
"In other news... Heywood saw a violent incident at a club yesterday, but Trauma Team arrived in time to save the VIPs. And Santo Domingo is dealing with another power outage. You energy thieves need to find a new hobby! Thirteen people died in the local hospital because of equipment failure during the blackout! Thirteen! Of course, they don't count for the lottery since they died after midnight. Rules are rules!"
Stanley laughed his hideous, cackling laugh.
Sasha narrowed her eyes. She reached up, running her fingers through her hair—real hair, dyed black, not implants—and tugged hard enough to hurt.
"Scumbag..." she hissed. "One day, that mouth is gonna get him killed."
She hated Stanley. When her mother died, the news had treated it like a joke, just another statistic for their entertainment. And during the BioDyne incident, even after she leaked the data to WNS, they spun it as a corporate rivalry, ignoring the victims entirely.
She walked to the bathroom. Rhys didn't have her toiletries. She got dressed and opened the door.
At the exact same moment, the door across the hall opened.
A stunning woman with multicolored hair stepped out, wearing athletic gear and white running shoes. She looked at Sasha.
"Yo. Up early for a workout?" Sasha greeted her with her signature innocent-cat smile.
Lucy looked at the kitten acting cute. She glanced at Rhys's door, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, then replied calmly, "Yeah. Every morning and evening."
"No wonder your body is so amazing," Sasha commented.
Lucy nodded. "Yours too... Senior Sasha."
"Don't call me Senior. I'm not that old," Sasha's smile faltered.
Before, she didn't care about age. But now that her relationship with Rhys was public... she was sensitive about it.
She was older than him. By like... six or seven years.
The anime-loving, toy-collecting otaku was pushing thirty.
So, being called "Senior" by Lucy... she knew exactly what that meant.
"Exercise is important. Even for netrunners. Better body control, more stamina, keeps the skin looking good," Lucy said, closing her door.
She'd moved in a few days ago. Most of her stuff was here; Jackie would bring the rest later.
So, she knew. She knew Sasha snuck into Rhys's room every night.
And Sasha made sure she knew. Waving at Lucy's door camera before slipping inside?
That wasn't being sneaky. That was marking territory.
Revenge for the car decorations?
"I exercise too," Sasha shot back, her jaw tight but her smile fixed.
"Oh? Since I moved in, you haven't left your room except to grab food from Rhys or Dorio. You've been binge-watching that show I recommended," Lucy countered, tilting her head. "Exercising at home?"
Sasha nodded, her eyes disappearing into crescents of pure mirth. "Yup. Home workouts."
"I got such a good workout last night. Exhausting."
"..." Lucy's eyes darkened. Her fists clenched at her sides.
"Ah, gotta go wash up. Want to grab breakfast later?" Sasha clapped her hands together.
"Sure..." Lucy said, her voice ghostly.
"Great!" Sasha beamed, turning back to her own door. She opened it, stepped inside, turned back to give a little wave, and closed it.
Lucy turned to leave for her run.
As she walked away, she heard a muffled laugh from behind the door.
"Bitch cat..."