The Emerald. Colonel Hansen's snake pit.
"I hope this won't cause you any trouble... Mm-hm, I'll handle it. Don't worry."
Kurt Hansen stepped out of the shadows, ending his call with some Night City official. He was a businessman at heart—everything was negotiable, including the fallout from a firefight like this. Just part of doing business.
Manage the damage. Then get revenge.
Both required help from Night City's political class.
Ethan kept his head down, soldiers gripping his arms. The colonel's boots clicked against the polished floor as he approached.
"Let him go. Our friend here still has broken bones."
Ethan shook out his numb arms, keeping his expression steady. The sweat beading on his forehead betrayed him.
Please don't let that system be bullshitting me.
The man wore a crisp military-style shirt, his build powerful, his eyes cold. He surveyed Ethan and the two other Barghest soldiers who'd been dragged here—
No. Not soldiers. Beaten dogs who'd crawled back with their tails between their legs.
"Talk. You know what this is about."
Ethan took a deep breath. "Colonel. It was an edgerunner attack."
Not a lie. Hansen was a cold-blooded warlord with a talent for interrogation. Ethan didn't want to give more than necessary.
"I know that, kid." Hansen jabbed a finger into Ethan's chest. "You should have waited for our backup to arrive. Don't you think?"
So that's the angle. Desertion.
Ethan swallowed, his fists clenching involuntarily.
Hansen's eyes flicked to the soldier behind Ethan. The man hesitated, then—reluctantly—placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder.
"Sorry, bro."
Ethan's mind raced. Edgerunners. Dogtown soldiers. A convoy full of military hardware—
Damn it. There's something I'm missing.
"Wait—Colonel Hansen!"
Ethan stepped forward. Two gun barrels immediately pressed into his fractured ribs, twisting his face in pain.
"Those edgerunners weren't there for the cargo. They were there to cause chaos—hit us when we least expected it!"
"A bunch of mercs don't need shiny new corpo gear to kit themselves out."
"You need to consider—maybe someone else set this up!"
Hansen raised a hand. "Let him finish."
Ethan pressed on. "This shipment was almost all Arasaka equipment. It went through three different handlers. How would random edgerunners know the route?"
"This is business, Colonel. That cargo was originally corpo property. They wouldn't let someone else pocket the markup. This... this was retaliation!"
Hansen listened, draining his whiskey in one long pull.
His breath, heavy with alcohol, washed over Ethan's face. Those wolf-like eyes studied him.
"Bring him up."
Barghest soldiers dragged in a limp body and dumped it on the floor. It took Ethan a moment to recognize who it was.
If not for those gaudy Barghest tattoos, he never would have believed the man with the caved-in skull was Cyrus.
"Deserter."
Hansen's voice dripped with disgust. He kicked the body—Cyrus's throat was still making sounds, but whatever he was trying to say was unintelligible.
"He tried to leave paradise. Care to guess who sold the intel?"
Ice ran down Ethan's spine.
Cyrus sold us out?
"You know me—I'm lazy. Whether you and him were in on it together, I don't really care to investigate. But you should be grateful. This piece of shit confessed to selling the information himself."
"You two were close. Ate together, bunked together. By rights, I should put you down with him."
Hansen paused.
"But I'm willing to give you a chance."
Ethan had stood ramrod straight since entering. Even when he'd glanced at Cyrus, it was only for a second. Hansen found himself mildly interested in this kid.
Huh. So that's how chooms operate in this world.
Today you sell me out. Tomorrow I stab you in the back. Who knows if your "best buddy" is even human.
Hansen drew a pistol from his hip and aimed it at the body on the floor.
He knew this soldier—Cole—hadn't been part of the intel leak. But fear and favor worked best together. Loyalty was built on moments of life and death, with just a taste of mercy.
The former Militech officer understood this well.
BANG!
The gunshot split Ethan's ears. His body flinched.
Three shots. When Ethan opened his eyes, the smoking barrel was pressed against his own skull.
Gulp.
Ethan met Hansen's gaze. He knew he couldn't show weakness. Weakness meant Hansen wouldn't mind having one less dog to do his bidding.
"Go to Heavy Hearts. Find an old friend of mine. Every trace of your Barghest affiliation will disappear."
"Help me out, kid. Someone needs to answer for this shipment, don't they?"
Hansen holstered his weapon. The soldier behind Ethan clapped him on the shoulder, and only then did Ethan's stiff legs carry him toward the Emerald's elevator.
Inside the elevator, Ethan's legs nearly gave out. Pain Editor aftereffects. The stabbing agony of broken bones. He could barely stand, gripping the handrail for support.
"Hey, Cole. Maybe it's not so bad."
It was the soldier from earlier—the one who'd warned him to stay sharp. Otto.
"Nobody in Dogtown wants to leave the barracks. You know how it is—one day you're sleeping at home, next day some local shows up looking for payback."
Barghest weren't exactly gentle with Dogtown residents. Losing that protection meant becoming a target.
Plus, no more paychecks. For a guy like Otto, that was practically a death sentence. His "comfort" sounded more like gloating.
These guys were addicted to Glitter. No money meant no supply.
"But I believe in you, bro. Shit! This is nothing for you. Hansen had a gun to your fucking head and you still eyeballed him? That takes balls!"
Like the name of the place he was being sent, Ethan's mind was heavy with worries.
Did I just get fired?
But the way Hansen talked... sounds like I'm supposed to do something for him.
Everything was a tangled mess. Nobody explained the full picture to a grunt. That was reality, and Ethan knew it.
After all, the god's-eye view was for players—not the NPCs living inside the game.
[SUBJECT "Kurt Hansen" — AFFINITY UPDATED]
[AFFINITY: 10 — "Do good work for your boss. You've had a gun to your head before. Won't be the last time."]
[REWARD: All stats +1. Opportunity to encounter other legendary figures.]
[SPECIAL NOTICE: From now on, you're on your own. You make your own calls, you carry your own weight.]
[Beyond rewards, this system will no longer provide mission guidance. Good luck.]
The one thing holding Ethan together just shattered.
Otto saw him starting to collapse and lunged forward to catch him. He pulled a MaxDoc from his belt and pressed the inhaler to Ethan's mouth.
Fantastic. Even the system plays the backstab game.
As the medication flooded his system, Ethan's wound-tight nerves finally uncoiled.
"Cole! Cole! ...Alright, you need some rest..."
Otto's voice faded to static. Ethan's vision went black.