???
Question marks appeared on Berry's face; why did the topic suddenly jump so fast?
"They begged me before they came," Viktor said, leaning against the car. "But I figured you're the boss of this operation, so I let them talk to you directly."
Berry was silent, and the gunmen waited anxiously.
"Viktor, do you trust them?"
After glancing around at the gunmen, Berry finally spoke.
"They are all old clients of mine, we have some connections, and as far as I know, they are decent people," Viktor said, crossing his arms and reminiscing. "So, yes, I trust them."
"Alright then. Since Viktor trusts you, I will trust you too. I accept your request."
Berry said, smiling at the gunmen.
This was not a sudden decision.
Berry and Viktor's business was starting to pick up in Chinatown and Kabuki, and the momentum was good. Relying solely on the two of them and one machine was becoming insufficient. In a situation like the recent hijacking, if they had their own security personnel, the perpetrators wouldn't have succeeded.
Therefore, Berry had already been thinking about recruiting people.
Now that these seven or eight veterans were willing to work for her, Berry was naturally agreeable.
They had Viktor's guarantee, and as retired veterans, their skills were assured. How could Berry not be satisfied?
"That's great! I mean, that's wonderful!"
"Good!"
The veterans all looked very happy.
To be honest, they were so poor they could barely afford food, but they were too proud to join a gang. Now that Berry was recruiting them as security personnel, they were extremely pleased.
"Alright, from now on, you are members of the 'Hive'."
Berry looked them straight in the eye and shook their hands, then pulled Arno over to introduce him.
"This is our general, the famous Mercenary on the streets, 'terminator' Arno."
Berry patted the silent Arno on the shoulder and said to the group.
"I know him, the 'terminator,' that famous Mercenary."
"Damn, I've heard of him too, the one who works for Regina Jones."
"I can't believe he's also part of the 'Hive'! Impressive!"
The soldiers seemed very excited.
No joke, having such a famous Mercenary on their side meant their group had serious prestige and capability. Following them would definitely lead to wealth.
Watching their reactions, Berry nodded.
This was the effect she wanted to see.
There was nothing she could do; she herself looked too soft and cute, not at all like a gang boss. Bringing out Arno was much better; he clearly looked like a ruthless person who could hold the fort without uttering a single word.
"Alright then, as you can see, this matter is settled. Let's head back."
"Yes, Boss!"
The gunmen straightened their backs and saluted respectfully. They used to salute the Stars and Stripes in the army; now, they saluted their benefactors, the newly formed 'Hive' organization.
"Viktor, we can recruit more people." Berry patted his shoulder and stopped him. "We still need your help. You are the local fixer in Chinatown."
"But they have to be reliable, with no serious criminal records, and not affiliated with gangs."
"No problem." Viktor gave an OK sign. "Who isn't short on cash these days? I have some friends and old clients who are desperate for money and work. They'll be happy to come."
Viktor readily agreed to the request, genuinely happy to see Berry's business developing so well.
"Thanks, Viktor. Before we head back, let's stop by the black clinic. I need to pick up some things there, and Arno's car is still there."
"Black clinic?" Viktor wanted to ask more, but Berry had already run to the car, so he gave up.
The group of four or five roaring vehicles drove down the road, and no one dared to stop them. They rounded a corner and arrived at the entrance of Charles's clinic. Berry got out of the car.
She punched through the window glass, reached in to unlock the door, and walked inside, gripping her gun.
Picking up a box, Berry smashed the display case with the butt of her gun. Piercing police sirens sounded, but Berry ignored them, quickly pulling out the expensive cyberware inside one piece at a time and stuffing them into the box.
"Hurry up, everyone! Don't just stand there! We need to load up and leave quickly!"
Hearing no movement, Berry looked back in confusion, only to see Viktor and his group frozen motionless at the doorway.
"Berry, you..." Without finishing the implied "how are you so practiced at this," Viktor squinted, watching Berry's hardened bandit demeanor in disbelief.
"Uh, hehe..." Suddenly realizing her appearance might be a little embarrassing, Berry gave a guilty laugh. "This illegal doctor was engaged in criminal activities. We are confiscating ill-gotten gains. It's perfectly reasonable, perfectly reasonable."
Berry then explained to Viktor and the others that Charles was working with the Scavengers.
Only then did they finally start helping.
Loading and dragging, the few of them emptied the clinic in less than five minutes, truly a model of the "zero-dollar purchase."
"Phew! What a day of diligent harvesting!"
With the truck bed fully loaded, Berry, slightly tired, wiped her sweat like an old farmer after a day of hard work, looking contentedly at her haul.
"Alright, let's scram!"
Closing the shutter, the satisfied Berry quickly got into the truck and drove off.
Today, she truly made a fortune.
Sure enough, the most profitable business in the world is the one that requires no capital.
Charles's cyberware and the Scavengers' savings were completely cleaned out by Berry, resulting in a massive profit.
It was a shame such opportunities were rare; otherwise, Berry might even consider giving up the troublesome cyberware business and focusing solely on punishing evil and promoting good in Night City.
Meanwhile, on the other side.
V, sitting in the back seat of Dexter DeShawn's black sedan discussing business with him, had no idea that in this short time, Berry, her adopted sister and girlfriend, had already completed a successful raid and returned.
The muscular Bodyguard Oleg was driving in the front, and V sat in the back, frowning as she looked at the three-hundred-pound black and gold fat man across from her.
With a large beard and a half-gold arm, Dexter DeShawn certainly had a commanding presence.
"Hello, Ms. V," Dexter DeShawn said, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Let's talk about something else before we get down to business."
"Would you rather be a nobody, live a quiet life, and die in bed with a catheter? Or would you prefer to make history, even if you don't live to see thirty?"
Anyone who starts a conversation by discussing life aspirations is definitely up to no good.
V's expression remained calm, but inwardly, she was extremely cautious.
People who talk like this usually either want to swindle your money or trick you into getting killed, just like those who claim they want to change the world.
"Are you testing me?" V's cool voice sounded, clearly indicating she hadn't fallen for the trap.
"No, just small talk," Dexter DeShawn said, raising his smoking cigar.
"What... is the hidden meaning?"
"No, Ms. V, that's called philosophy," Dexter DeShawn paused, then continued.
"Listen closely. I just landed a massive job. Compared to dealing with the Scavengers, this is a once-in-a-lifetime deal."
"Tell me about it. What's the job?" V listened carefully, wanting to find out if this guy planned to use them as disposable assets.
Fixers often exaggerated, handing out all kinds of empty promises, tricking eager Mercenaries into paving the way for them. In the end, their bodies wouldn't even be collected, left to rot in the sewer.
To avoid being treated as expendable, you needed enough sense to discern whether the fixer was leading you into a trap.
V had been in Night City for a while and had learned many lessons.
"There's a... prototype technology. A Biochip, to be precise. Get it for me, that's all."
"Heh... I guess it belongs to a Corporation?"
"Yes, Arasaka Corporation." Dexter DeShawn spoke the formidable name in a calm tone. "You should be fine with that, right?"
"Yeah, no problem, we'll just die." V rolled her eyes. Arasaka Corporation—every idiot knew they were one of Night City's giants. "Night City is Arasaka territory. Who dares mess with them?"
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That's Afterlife's number one rule," Dexter DeShawn said, letting his cigar smoke drift. He continued.
"Besides, I'm not stupid; I won't leave any tracks. This job has to be done without a soul knowing. You understand what I mean?"
"What's the plan? Do you have one?" Seeing the look on Dexter DeShawn's face, V was slightly curious.
"First, I have some involvement with the Maelstrom boys that needs to be sorted out."
"Then it's simple. You need to meet the client, but she's in a hurry and wants to coordinate with us."
Taking occasional puffs from his cigar, Dexter DeShawn gave V the general details of the mission.
The client is Evelyn Parker, the top doll at Clouds and a regular at Lizzy Bar.
She is the one who wants Arasaka Corporation's Biochip.
For some reason, she insisted on meeting the person doing the job for her, which actually violates Night City protocol. Clients and Mercenaries usually negotiate through fixers and rarely meet, but since she has money, the rules have to be flexible.
As for the Maelstrom, it wasn't the Uchiha Gang causing trouble for them; it was Dexter's own matter.
Two weeks ago, the Maelstrom stole equipment from Militech, and the Corporation still doesn't know that Maelstrom was actually behind it.
Among the stolen items was a small combat robot called "flathead," a prototype and Militech's crowning achievement. Dexter DeShawn wants V to retrieve it for him.
Dexter DeShawn had originally paid Maelstrom for it, but the problem was that the original transaction was with the gang leader, Brick.
Just a few days after the deal was made, Brick was taken out by his own brother and friend, known on the street as "Royce"—Simon Randall.
Dexter DeShawn didn't know if the new boss, Royce, would honor the deal.
And Militech also had an executive named Meredith Stott who was very interested in this matter.
"What's her background?" V asked.
"She's a Corpo. She made the transport team incident seem like someone was going to die. One of her witnesses is currently hog-tied and stuffed in her trunk."
"The higher-ups are pressuring her relentlessly, and she's completely frazzled. You can think about how to use that to your advantage."
"I'll send you the information on that stressed-out woman now."
"Knowing this much is enough. It's time to get to work." Hearing how many connections her mission involved, V felt she needed to organize her thoughts.
"Great. I'll arrange for you to meet Ms. Parker at the Lizzy Bar, and I've found you a helper for the flathead matter."
"A helper?" V was curious at first, then displeased. "You think I can't handle it?"
"No, it's just a necessary safeguard. There's strength in numbers."
"Hmph." V crossed her arms dismissively.
"Arno. People on the street call him 'terminator.' He often works for Regina Jones, but he's also handled one or two jobs for me."
"Is he any good?" V raised an eyebrow, voicing her curiosity.
"He has his own skills. Efficient, capable—you'll see when you meet him. If your negotiations with Maelstrom fall apart, you will definitely need him."
"...By the way, Ms. V."
"A nobody? Or world-famous?"
Even after she got out of the car, Dexter DeShawn's question still echoed in V's ears.
Shaking her head, V brought up her comms.