Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 26: Kittens (Patreon)

“One more step and I’ll shoot!”

Rebecca kept her pistol trained on the three men with one hand while clutching the kitten tightly with the other, determined not to let it escape. Her red cybernetic eyes flashed dangerously as she swung the muzzle from one Scavenger to another.

“Hey, shorty, how many bullets have you got left in that thing?”

The Scavengers’ leader snickered, lifting a Satara shotgun that was taller than Rebecca herself.

“Put the gun down, nice and easy. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The three men edged closer, testing how far they could push her. Rebecca kept her pistol raised but stole a glance toward the alley entrance.

Damn that cat-eared girl! What’s taking Sasha so long to buy something? Didn’t she say she was almost here?

Rebecca looked at the pitifully small Tamayura in her hand, then at the Satara shotgun and D5 Copperhead assault rifle pointed her way. Three against one. Outnumbered, outgunned, and nothing in the alley she could use to her advantage. She might manage to take one or two down if she opened fire, but there was no way she’d dodge the shotgun blasts. Her only option was to stall until Sasha arrived.

“Had your chance to do this the easy way. Get her!”

The leader had run out of patience. Worried that someone might interfere, he ordered his men to rush her together.

Next time, I’m only carrying big guns! Little pistols aren’t worth shit!

Rebecca’s breathing grew faster. Her finger began to tighten on the trigger.

BANG!

A heavy impact echoed through the alley. But it wasn’t a gunshot. It was the sound of a body smashing violently into a wall.

The Scavenger leader hadn’t even managed a scream. Something had struck him like a speeding truck, sending him flying several meters before he slammed into the masonry. His corpse slid down the wall, bent at such an unnatural angle that there was no chance he’d survived.

“Holy fuck!”

The other two Scavengers spun around, their weapons swinging toward a towering figure who had somehow appeared behind them.

“Scavengers? Just my fucking luck. I run into you cockroaches everywhere I go!”

Pantheon scowled, set the gift box he was carrying on a nearby trash can, and rolled his wrists until his joints cracked.

“Who the fuck are you? You got a death wish, sticking your nose into Scavenger business?”

One of the thugs raised his rifle, roaring as he did. But he might as well have been moving in slow motion.

Before the man could pull the trigger, Pantheon vanished from where he stood. His opponent caught a blur of movement, and suddenly Pantheon was right in front of him, as though he’d materialized out of thin air.

“It’s been thirteen days, or thirteen chapters, since I last killed anyone. Finally, I get to cut loose again!”

His voice was almost wistful, with a trace of unmistakable excitement. Against a man with fourteen points in Body, the Scavenger’s thirteenth-hand D5 Copperhead was little better than scrap.

Pantheon caught the barrel in his left hand and wrenched it downward.

CRACK!

The poorly maintained metal gave way with a tortured screech, snapping in two. Pantheon caught one of the jagged pieces and drove it into the thug’s chest. Bones cracked. The man coughed up a mouthful of blood, clutched at the wound, and collapsed in agony.

The last Scavenger lost his nerve and ran. Pantheon scooped up a loose stone, straightened, and flicked his wrist. The stone flew like a cannonball and punched straight through the back of the fleeing man’s skull. He hit the ground with a thud, twitched twice, and lay still.

The entire fight had taken less than ten seconds. Before Rebecca could even grasp what was happening, the three Scavengers had become three very different-looking corpses.

Just then, a passerby glanced into the alley and stopped dead. His expression twisted as he took in the scene, and then he screamed loudly enough for the whole street to hear.

“CYBERPSYCHO!!!”

Jig-Jig Street erupted into chaos. Half-dressed customers poured out of the shops, and opportunistic thieves began grabbing whatever they could in the confusion.

Pantheon glanced down at himself. It wasn’t that bad, was it? Just a little blood splatter. What was everyone making such a fuss about?

Inside the alley, the silence was absolute. Rebecca stared at him, her mind apparently frozen while her enormous red eyes flickered rapidly.

“Meow.”

The black cat in her arms let out a lazy cry, wriggled free, and trotted toward Pantheon. Apparently, the huge stranger had caught its interest.

“Kitty! Come back!”

Rebecca snapped out of it and aimed her pistol at Pantheon, all while trying to call the cat back. It glanced at her with what looked suspiciously like disdain, flopped down at Pantheon’s feet, and began meowing insistently.

Pantheon wiped the grime off his hands against the wall, retrieved his gift box, and scooped up the cat. Not one of those Scavengers had carried a piece of cyberware worth salvaging, and all three together had given him only thirteen Essence points. Even as trash went, they were bottom of the barrel.

“Y-you... Who the fuck are you?!”

Rebecca’s words tumbled out faster and faster. Like a furious little cat facing a monster too big for it to understand, she could do little but hiss and puff herself up.

“Don’t think I’m gonna thank you! Looking to rob the robber, huh? Come on, then! I’m not scared of you!”

Pantheon stroked the black cat in his arms. Its fur felt wonderful, and it seemed perfectly happy to be held. Now this was a quality cat. Then he looked back at Rebecca, whose pistol was practically touching his forehead.

“I once heard an elven warrior complain that his knees ached whenever it rained. He said there was a race of tiny creatures whose favorite pastime was beating people in the knees.”

He looked pointedly at her pistol.

“So what’s the plan? Gonna shoot me in the kneecaps with that little thing?”

Rebecca’s exposed skin turned visibly red. Nothing made her angrier than someone mocking her height. During those few seconds of furious distraction, Pantheon moved.

He caught her wrist in an instant and squeezed lightly. Her hand went numb, and the pistol slipped from her fingers. Pantheon removed the magazine, engaged the safety, and tapped the top of her head twice with the grip.

“Ow!”

“Is that any way to treat the guy who saved your life? Didn’t your parents ever... uh... didn’t your brother teach you what to do when you’re in danger?”

He gave her head another tap, this one a little harder.

“You asshole! That hurts!”

Rebecca grabbed her head and jumped up in outrage, still trying to snatch the black cat from his arms.

“Rebecca! I’m back!”

Both turned toward the voice. A girl in a cropped pink jacket over a black netrunning suit came running breathlessly into the alley. She took one look at the three mangled bodies and Rebecca being held at bay by Pantheon’s hand, realized something had gone terribly wrong, and instinctively reached for her gun.

“Sasha, don’t shoot! He’s not a bad guy!”

Rebecca hurried over and grabbed Sasha’s arm, afraid her friend would end up beside the three corpses a moment later. Sasha was a netrunner, though, and far less reckless than Rebecca. Once she calmed down, she accessed the local surveillance feeds and quickly worked out exactly what had happened.