Evelyn Parker had met her fair share of mercs—loud, cocky, desperate ones who strutted around Lizzie's Bar claiming to be legends in the making.
But V?
V wasn't just confident. He was audacious.
"One price," he'd said. "My price. You agree or you walk."
That wasn't negotiation. That was a declaration of war on every unspoken rule in Night City's underworld.
To Evelyn, this wasn't just arrogance—it was heresy.
Because in Night City, rules kept the chaos barely contained.
Ever since the nuclear blast of 2023 tore the city apart, the New Night City that rose from the ashes had been rebuilt on foundations of greed, blood, and unspoken laws. From corpo boardrooms to gutter gangs, everyone followed them.
Mercs, too.
They might call themselves "freelancers," but they were just tools—hired blades dancing on the strings of fixers and clients.
A merc who didn't play by the rules didn't survive long.
And yet, the man sitting in front of her sipped his rum like he owned the room.
…
"Mr. V," Evelyn began with a faint smile, cigarette poised between her fingers, "there are many mercenaries in Night City. Teams with history, reputation, power. Legends that even the corpos respect."
"But you…" She leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "You're the first one I've seen walk in and flip the table like this."
Neo chuckled softly. "Then I guess today's full of firsts."
He leaned back, letting the neon from the bar's holo-signs paint his face in red and blue. "Where I'm from, there's a saying: 'Don't take on porcelain work if you don't have the diamond drill for it.' You know what that means, Ms. Parker?"
Evelyn arched a brow, amusement flickering in her eyes. "I do. You're saying you're the one with the diamond drill, aren't you?"
Neo smirked. "You already knew that before you called me. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this drink."
Evelyn drew a slow puff, the smoke curling between them. "So you really believe you're on another level from every other merc in this city?"
Neo didn't mind the smoke. But he did mind what it meant. Lighting up during a deal, in the middle of negotiations—it wasn't just a habit. It was a test.
A message that said, I don't trust you yet.
Neo smiled faintly. "Then let me make it easier for you to decide whether you should."
He set the empty glass down with a quiet click.
"Night City's full of mercs who've pissed off Arasaka," he said calmly. "Plenty of them got cocky, picked a fight, and wound up as stains on corpo carpet."
He leaned in just enough that Evelyn felt the weight of his gaze.
"But only one's willing to walk into Konpeki Plaza itself and steal the Relic."
The name hit like a gunshot.
Evelyn froze—her cigarette slipped from her lips, falling to the floor in a tiny hiss of smoke.
"You…" Her voice trembled. "How do you know that?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Can we at least have a conversation with a little more depth, Ms. Parker?"
Evelyn stared at him like he'd just pulled her entire plan out of her head and laid it bare on the table.
He wasn't bluffing. She could feel it. The calm in his tone wasn't arrogance—it was certainty.
Neo didn't just know about the Relic job. He knew everything.
And that terrified her.
…
She broke the silence first. "Alright," she said finally, exhaling sharply. "We'll do it your way. One price. Name it."
Neo held up two fingers.
Evelyn frowned. "Twenty thousand eddies? That's doable."
"Multiply it by ten."
The color drained from her face. "Two… hundred thousand?!"
She almost shouted, then clamped a hand over her mouth, glancing around. Even in Lizzie's, that number would make people turn heads.
"Do you even realize what you're asking for?" she hissed. "Two hundred thousand eddies could buy half a new body in Watson!"
"Exactly," Neo said, voice smooth as glass. "And if I don't take your job, I'll still make that much before the month's out. The real question is—who else in this city would dare take this one?"
He leaned back, expression calm but eyes sharp. "Unless, of course, you'd rather ask Arasaka if they'll sell you the Relic. Maybe they'll give you a discount."
Evelyn was silent. The pulse of the bar, the beat of synth music, all faded behind the pounding of her heart.
He had her cornered—and they both knew it.
Finally, she gritted her teeth and spat out the words.
"Fine. I'll pay your price."
Neo nodded slightly, satisfied.
But Evelyn wasn't done yet. "However," she said, regaining her composure, "before I hand you something that expensive, I want proof. A test run."
She flicked her hand toward one of the bar's floating holo-screens.
The blue holographic light shifted to reveal the Night City Nightline, playing the latest broadcast.
"Reports indicate another cyberpsycho incident late last night. Victims include six civilians and an entire NCPD response unit. The suspect remains at large…"
On-screen was a grainy image of a man's face—his eyes glowing faintly red, veins crawling with cybernetic overstimulation.
Name: James Norris.
Augmentations: Military-grade Sandevistan.
Neo froze for a heartbeat.
James Norris…?
That was the same psycho from the Edgerunners 2076 timeline. The one who went berserk at the very start.
He was still alive?
Evelyn's voice cut through his thoughts.
"That's him. James Norris. He's tearing through half the NCPD as we speak. What I want from you…"
Her manicured finger tapped the hologram, zooming in on the implant visible along Norris's spine.
"…is that. His Sandevistan. Military-grade. Untouched."
Neo's gaze hardened.
"You're serious."
"As a bullet to the brain." She smiled sweetly. "So, tell me, V—what's your price this time?"
Neo thought for a moment, then answered, tone light but lethal.
"Since you're so desperate for that Sandevistan…"
He raised one finger this time.
"One hundred thousand eddies. Flat. I'll carve it out of the psycho myself."
Evelyn stared at him, her smile fading into something between awe and disbelief.
Then she whispered, "Deal."