Even by Night City standards, Neo's self-introduction was… excessive.
Panam blinked at him, eyes wide, mouth half-open, voice trembling somewhere between disbelief and awe.
"You—you killed Adam Smasher?"
She leaned closer, as if she needed to confirm it. "Wait. The Adam Smasher?"
Neo chuckled, unable to help it. The way her voice pitched up, all flustered outrage and wide-eyed shock—it was a rare kind of adorable he hadn't seen in a long time.
"Night City's full of legends," he said. "But tell me, Panam—how many guys named Adam Smasher do you think there are walking around? It's not exactly a common burger special: 'buy one, respawn one.'"
Her lips parted. "So it's true, then…"
"Of course it is," Neo said. "I'd guess you've been off-grid for a while. That story's gone citywide—hell, even the fixers are still whispering about it."
Panam sighed. "Yeah, well, I've been in the Badlands for months. Out there, you're lucky if the radio works, let alone the net. Can't exactly scroll the headlines while dodging sandstorms and scav snipers."
Panam descended the broken stairwell with Neo, her boots crunching against the sand and bullet casings. She stopped before them, straightening her jacket, and offered a small, sincere bow of her head.
"My name's Panam Palmer," she said. "Used to run with the Aldecaldos… not anymore. I'm on my own now."
Her voice softened slightly. "You two saved my ass tonight. Without you, I'd be dead in that town square—or worse. I can't thank you enough."
Jackie waved her off, flashing that warm, easy smile of his. "Hey, no need to thank me, chica. If you're gonna thank someone, thank my brother here."
He nodded toward Neo. "Truth be told, you were already being tailed the minute you left the race track. I was the first to spot 'em. And between you and me, I wasn't planning to get involved. You know how it is—doing the right thing's a fast way to get killed in this city."
He smirked, crossing his arms. "But then my brother says, 'Let's follow her, just in case.' So we did. And look how that turned out. You're alive. So yeah, chica, if you're feeling grateful, you should probably start with him."
Panam turned toward Neo, eyes softening. Gratitude and curiosity danced in that amber gaze.
"I really don't know what to say," she murmured. "But thank you… truly. Words aren't enough."
She reached into her jacket and pulled out a heavy credchip—the entire winnings from the Battle Run.
"Here. Take it. It's not much compared to what I owe you, but—"
Neo raised a hand, shaking his head. "Keep it. You need it more than I do."
He met her eyes evenly. "If you weren't strapped for cash, you wouldn't have driven into a death trap like that race. People don't risk their necks for fun out here. Not anymore."
Panam hesitated, biting her lip.
He continued, voice steady. "But if you don't mind me asking… what kind of trouble pushed you that far?"
She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Trouble? That's one word for it."
Her gaze flicked to the horizon, where the neon haze of Night City bled faintly into the desert dark.
"Let's just say… I took a job that went bad. Really bad. The kind you don't walk away from without losing something."
She leaned against a crumbling wall, shoulders tense. "I took a transport gig with some guys from Wraiths. Didn't know it at the time—they kept it quiet. And you probably already know this, but Aldecaldos and Wraiths? We're mortal enemies."
Jackie's brows furrowed. "And they found out?"
"Oh, they found out," she said sharply. "They hijacked my rig, stole my cargo, and left me with nothing. I've tried talking to them, explaining that I'm not with the Aldecaldos anymore, but those chrome-brained psychos don't care. They just laugh and tell me I'm lucky they didn't carve my name into their bumpers."
Neo said nothing, listening.
She went on, frustration bleeding into her tone. "The cargo belonged to a client—high-value goods. The fixer's been breathing down my neck for compensation, so I needed a quick payday. The Battle Run was my shot at breaking even. Guess luck decided to show up late, huh?"
Jackie chuckled under his breath. "Funny how life works out. That's kinda how I met this guy, too."
Neo raised an eyebrow.
Jackie grinned at him. "Yeah, remember? Back when you were still a lone Nomad, fresh outta that Bakker clan? You were hauling contraband near the border, I was running a job for a corpo client. We both got screwed over by border patrol and ended up fighting our way out together."
He laughed at the memory. "Man, feels like yesterday, hermano. Now look at us—saving damsels and splitting skulls."
Panam blinked between them, half-stunned, half-intrigued. "You two… really are something else."
Neo smiled faintly. "Call it survival instinct."
Then his tone shifted—lower, deliberate. "Actually, Panam, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about."
She straightened slightly, wary. "What is it?"
"I'm looking for someone," he said. "A man named Anders Hellman. Ex-Arasaka. A scientist—the one who designed the Relic chip."
Panam frowned. "Hellman? The corpo traitor? why are you looking for him?"
"That's complicated," Neo said. "But I know he's not in the city anymore. He's out here, somewhere in the Badlands. I need someone who knows the terrain. Knows the people. Knows how to move unseen."
He paused, then added with a small smirk, "And lucky for me, you just happen to fit all three."
Panam folded her arms, studying him. "You're serious about this?"
"As serious as I was about Smasher."
She considered it for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Alright. You helped me tonight. You've got my trust. I'll help you find your corpo."
Neo's smile deepened. "Good. Then we've got a deal."
Panam exhaled, relief mixing with resolve. "In that case, I'll handle the scouting. But first…" Her expression darkened. "We're getting my rig and my cargo back. The Wraiths think I'm an easy mark. Let's show them what a bad bet that was."
Neo tilted his head. "Fine by me. You handle the road. I'll handle the killing."
Jackie grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Sounds like old times already."
Under the starless Badlands sky, the trio stood amidst the smoldering ruins of the scav ambush—three killers from different worlds, brought together by chance, debt, and a shared hunger for payback.
For the first time in a long while, Panam smiled.
"Alright, boys," she said, voice cool and sharp as engine oil. "Let's raise some hell."