Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 38: A Wake-Up Call (Patreon)

[Detected trait: [Ace Driver] (Purple)]

Description: I will sortie in Gundam form.

Effect: Reflexes +4. Greatly enhances spatial awareness and the ability to sense danger.

Pantheon glanced at the scraps of flesh clinging to his shoe and could practically see a giant question mark hanging over his head. Wait, that counted?! He'd assumed there was no way to collect anything from Sergei's body after that explosion.

“King, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Padre's concerned voice came over the call.

“Nothing. Just keep going.”

Pantheon scraped his shoe against the curb as he answered.

“Sigh.”

Padre let out a weary sigh.

“You made far too much noise this time, and it happened too close to downtown. I've had people coming to me all day, fishing for information.”

“An accident. Pure accident. Who knows what Maelstrom was smuggling? An energy cell just happened to blow up. Terrible luck.”

Pantheon offered a few awkward laughs. He wasn't eager to reveal the details of the operation. Although his traits had allowed him to turn the tables, today's battle had driven home just how powerful the corporations were. The Centaur Exoskeleton was only a hybrid civilian-military device. Yet with some modifications, it had become terrifyingly powerful.

And what about real military power armor? He might defeat one suit, but could he handle ten? A hundred? Corporations didn't rule the world merely because they had money. They controlled most of its productive capacity and resources, which let them manufacture war machines without end.

What good was being able to fight, then? In this business, power came from influence and connections! That might be an exaggeration, but it wasn't entirely wrong.

Even Morgan Blackhand had vanished after Arasaka Tower was nuked in 2023. His rival, Adam Smasher, meanwhile, could return after defeat time and again. Wasn't that because Arasaka kept backing him? Maybe Pantheon needed to change his approach as well.

He looked at the thirteen points in Intelligence on his status panel and thought of the vast store of bionic engineering and Militech weapons knowledge in his head. To oppose a corporation, he'd need an organization with comparable strength. He could never bring down the corporations by relying on personal strength alone.

The real problem was that his system was too restrictive. If he could keep stacking attributes without limit, he'd at least be tempted to take on the entire world.

“King?”

Padre looked at him suspiciously, wondering whether his mind had wandered.

“Ahem, nothing. I was just thinking about something else.”

Padre shook his head and removed his glasses.

“That's enough for today. I'll handle the rest. After all, this was a gig I hired you for.”

“To be frank, King, I never thought you'd complete the gig so quickly, especially without losing a single person.”

He blew dust from his glasses and carefully wiped them. When he put them back on, he regarded Pantheon with an expression full of complicated emotion.

“Your payment has already been transferred. I've told my people to deal with Maelstrom's remaining goods, too. You'll get your share.”

“Night City is enormous, but it's small in its own way. Soon enough, your name will reach the ears of the people who matter.”

“That could be a blessing or a curse. Be careful, King.”

“I'd hate to see you next in a graveyard.”

When the call ended, Pantheon didn't pay much attention to Padre's parting warning. So long as he stayed out of corporate infighting, he couldn't think of anyone who could kill him.

“Hey, weird old man! Come here! I found something good!”

Rebecca stood in front of a shipping container, hopping up and down as she called out to Pantheon. After watching him go toe-to-toe with power armor, only Rebecca and Jackie could still treat him normally. Everyone else saw him differently now. Lucy even wondered whether he'd escaped from some corporation's experimental lab.

How else could someone fight power armor with nothing but his own flesh and muscle?

“What's all the fuss? How good can it be?”

“Holy shit! Now that's something!”

Flames licked the beef, and the scent of sizzling fat filled the air. Just smelling it made Pantheon appreciate being alive. Selling real meat privately was illegal in Night City. Severe pollution was part of the reason, but the monopolies held by Biotechnica and other food corporations mattered just as much.

Biotechnica possessed such advanced gene-editing technology that it could raise cattle ready for slaughter in a single month. But beef was apparently too expensive. Instead, the company produced meat from insects and invented the monstrosity called synthetic protein. With technology like that, its priority was to destroy traditional farming and force everyone to eat whatever garbage it sold.

That was what megacorporations in the cyberpunk world were like. The rich drank purified water and ate real meat. The poor drank polluted water and ate synthetic meat. Apparently, that was the only way the wealthy could prove they were born superior.

Most ordinary people could taste real meat only if they bought dubious cuts smuggled in by gangs. Pantheon had no idea where Maelstrom had found this beef, but its marbling and color made it obvious that it wasn't meant for ordinary people.

“I can't take it anymore! Let me try some!”

Rebecca was practically drooling over the sizzling meat.

Smack!

“Ouch! What are you doing?”

Pantheon had tapped Rebecca on the head. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“It's not cooked yet. What's the rush?”

Like an experienced grill master, Pantheon calmly turned the beef, making sure the heat reached it evenly.

“Go tell Jackie, Maine, and the others to stop searching for now. Dinner comes first.”

Under his stern orders, Rebecca pouted, reluctantly withdrew her hands, and grumpily passed the message along. After the incident with the ACPA, Pantheon had promised Maine's crew they could take suitable weapons and cyberware from the fallen Maelstrom members, hoping to smooth things over. Two Carnage Shotguns made by Budget Arms already lay beside Rebecca, salvaged from the gang.

“Damn, bro, this smells amazing.”

Jackie followed the aroma over and stared, delighted, at the beef sizzling on an oil drum.

“Real meat this good doesn't turn up every day.”

“Probably belonged to some rich bastard. Now a bunch of street trash like us get to enjoy it.”

“Hahaha! Damn right!”

Maine and the others returned before long, laughing as they approached. They carried several freshly stripped pieces of cyberware, still slick with blood. People in Night City weren't picky. So what if an implant came from a corpse?

“How is it?”

“Great! Absolutely delicious!”

Maine was tearing into the beef, laughing between mouthfuls.

“Boss, just tell us who you want dead! Hell, if you told us to go after Saburo Arasaka, we'd drag him back here for you!”

Pilar had filled his mouth so completely that his words were barely intelligible, yet he still found room to flatter Pantheon.

“Sure. When do we leave?”

Pantheon gave Pilar a half-smile. Pilar felt a chill under that look. He laughed awkwardly, ducked his head, and stopped showing off. Pilar was a capable tech specialist. Otherwise, he couldn't have kept up with all the trouble Rebecca got herself into.

But he wasn't the type to work quietly and behave himself. He had a habit of letting his dick do the thinking. So Pantheon had given him a mild warning before he grew too arrogant.

“Maine, what do you think of that Centaur?”

Pantheon posed the question casually while tending the grill.

“Centaur?”

Maine looked up with a guileless, puzzled expression.

“Wasn't today's target Maelstrom? What Centaur?”

“Oh, right, my mistake. Never mind. Let's eat!”

Pantheon laughed and warmly served Maine a few more pieces of meat. A man who'd survived a war and built a successful mercenary crew in Night City didn't need any explanation. Pantheon trusted Maine to keep his people in line. The warning to Pilar had been worth giving.

That left just one more person to deal with. If she refused to cooperate... Pantheon narrowed his eyes, a cold gleam passing through them. Well, she did have a history of betrayal.

Brakes screeched outside the docks. Moments later, Lucy, Sasha, and Kiwi appeared at the entrance. Lucy's eyes were red-rimmed. Without a word, she threw herself into Pantheon's arms. He had no choice but to comfort her first.

Sasha joined the others with a smile, eager to enjoy the rare feast of real meat. Kiwi remained as aloof as ever, smoking alone off to one side. Once Lucy finally calmed down, Pantheon turned his attention to Kiwi.

“King, is your squad still looking for a netrunner?”

Pantheon paused, then quickly understood what she was suggesting.

“We are. The gigs we take aren't easy, and Lucy can't handle all the netrunning on her own.”