Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 43: The Truth (Patreon)

Using their status as patrol officers, they lured innocent girls into their cars under the pretext of “questioning” or “assisting with an investigation.”

Then they took them to a Tyger Claws base to record illicit braindances.

Even the dead bodies were put to use. Their cyberware and organs were stripped out and sold separately.

A complete supply chain from start to finish. How efficient!

The Scavengers, the Tyger Claws, and possibly even senior NCPD officers were involved.

And the only cost was a handful of poor people’s lives. What better business could there be?

“Night City really is rotten to the core.”

Pantheon muttered to himself.

A lock rattled at the front door. Why was Callum back so soon?

Pantheon did not panic. He did not even bother closing the photos on the screen.

He casually unplugged the data cable, tucked the computer into his bag, and even straightened his clothes.

Click.

The bedroom door opened. Callum rushed in wearing his NCPD uniform, looking like a man who had come home to retrieve something he had forgotten.

He froze when he saw a stranger sitting at his desk.

“Who are you...?”

Callum’s pupils narrowed. His hand shot toward his service pistol, as though he meant to test his draw against Pantheon’s.

But after years of hard drinking, he was in no shape to match Pantheon’s speed.

Before his fingers reached the holster, Pantheon was already in front of him. One kick sent him flying.

“Ugh!”

Callum doubled over as though a car had hit him head-on.

He slammed against the wall hard enough to shake the floor.

Pantheon stepped forward, picked up a sock, stuffed it into Callum’s mouth, and tied his hands.

“Officer Callum, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

Pantheon gave him a smile of pure kindness.

To Callum, it looked like a demon’s grin.

“I’m sure an elite NCPD officer like you has had plenty of training. Don’t worry. I’m a professional too.”

“I’ve seen this bit on TV.”

Pantheon muttered as he placed his boot on one of Callum’s fingers.

“Ugh!!!”

There was a sharp crack, followed by Callum’s muffled cry.

His eyes rolled back from the pain, and saliva trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“Passed out from the pain? We can’t have that. Better wake you up. Let’s try another finger.”

How could a living, breathing person say something so cold? Lunatic! Freak!

Callum was just about to abandon his act of unconsciousness when Pantheon’s boot came down again.

Like a sledgehammer, it crushed Callum’s finger into pulp.

“Waaah!”

Callum howled in agony and nearly passed out for real.

He no longer cared about anything but getting Pantheon’s attention. He wailed desperately through the gag.

“Still refusing to talk? You’re one tough bastard!”

Pantheon grinned, his eyes full of mockery.

He moved his boot onto Callum’s third finger.

“No hurry. We can take our time. You’ve still got eighteen... no, nineteen chances left.”

Callum was on the verge of breaking down. How the hell was he supposed to talk with a sock in his mouth?! And shouldn’t this man at least ask a question?!

How was Callum supposed to answer if he had not been asked anything?!

“Thud, thud, thud!”

He began hammering his forehead against the floor, leaving a bloody mark.

Pantheon watched without expression, the anger inside him only growing.

His pain was not even a fraction of what those girls had suffered, and he could not bear this much?

Fortunately, Pantheon had not lost his head. The priority was still to force Callum to reveal where the girls were being held.

Pantheon pulled the sock out of Callum’s mouth. His voice was cold.

“Where did they send that ‘shipment’?”

Callum gasped for breath before answering in a shaky voice.

“The Scavengers are at MUSE bar, on Diamond Street in Westbrook. I saw them take the girls into the basement myself.”

“How many of them are there?”

“A dozen or so, I think. There are more of them in the bar itself.”

“When will they move the ‘goods’ out?”

“Usually two or three days. Probably tomorrow morning! That’s how they’ve always done it. They wait until everyone’s there.”

Pantheon nodded, choosing to believe him for the time being.

He had Kiwi verify the information as well.

“Besides you, is anyone else from the NCPD involved in this?”

“I-I don’t know! I’m just a low-level patrolman. How would I know?”

Callum sounded close to tears.

Pantheon remained unmoved and delivered a hard kick to his stomach.

“Ugh!”

Callum curled into a ball, unable to speak.

“Go easy on him. One more kick and he’ll die.”

Kiwi was watching his vital signs and offered the warning with a sigh.

Pantheon frowned. Reluctantly, he gave Callum a dose of medication with a pneumatic injector.

Callum groaned and blinked like someone waking from a dream.

“Do you remember now?”

“I really don’t know! But there’s a cop named Pulaski who helps the Tyger Claws sell drugs, and another guy called Jimmy who goes around collecting protection money.”

Terrified out of his mind, Callum spilled everything he knew.

Pantheon said nothing. NCPD corruption hardly surprised him. Unable to get anything more out of the man, Pantheon rose with a trace of regret and aimed his pistol at him.

“Please don’t kill me! I can still be useful!”

Staring into the dark muzzle, Callum panicked.

“I’ll give you all the money!”

Pantheon received a transfer of 12,033 eddies.

“Officer, is that all your sense of justice is worth? Those poor girls deserved better.”

“Wait! I’m going to report this!”

Desperate to survive, Callum searched frantically for something else to offer, stumbling over his words.

“There’s a reporter named Jacob Miller who’s been blackmailing me! He’s got evidence, and he says he’ll expose everything unless I pay him!”

“Huh? What did you say?”

Pantheon’s expression darkened.

Something had felt wrong about Jacob from their very first conversation. So the bastard had known the truth all along. He had never intended to expose it. He had been using it to line his own pockets.

No wonder Jacob’s righteous martyr act had seemed so false.

Fuck. Were there really no decent people left in Night City?

Pantheon closed his eyes and drew a long breath.

When he opened them again, his expression was calm, but rage hot enough to burn the entire city to ashes churned beneath it.

He slowly raised his gun and aimed it at Callum.

Callum pleaded, but Pantheon did not waver.

Bang!

Silence returned to the apartment.

Pantheon stepped over the corpse and walked out.

MUSE bar, that den of filth, and Jacob, our self-proclaimed champion of justice...

Looks like I’m working overtime tonight.

Outside, the people in the building showed no reaction whatsoever to the gunshot. Were they indifferent, or simply numb?

Pantheon did not know. What he did know was that plenty of people would die tonight, giving tomorrow’s Body Lotto a fresh round of entertainment.