Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 55: Success (Patreon)

The dark tunnel reeked of gunpowder and blood. The Wraiths kept pulling their triggers mechanically, oblivious to everything else.

Their guns clicked on empty chambers. They were out of ammunition.

Above them, more than a dozen dark shapes crept along the rough rock ceiling, concealed by the gunfire.

Sentinel Spiders. A stripped-down, budget version of the T.I.M. hunting spiders. Slightly larger than an adult palm, they traded their nanoweb launchers for bionic dry-adhesion and electrostatic gripping systems, allowing them to climb almost any surface.

Their abdominal compartments could carry different weapons depending on the mission.

Under algorithmic control, the Sentinel Spiders moved into perfect positions and waited for the signal.

Pantheon pressed a virtual Enter key, and more than a dozen spiders dropped from the ceiling. Like a shower of black rain, they struck the Wraiths in the face.

One exhausted Wraith looked up at the falling spiders, a flash of almost grateful relief crossing his face.

BOOM!

Explosions ripped through the camp. Shockwaves, shrapnel, and flying rock tore the Wraiths’ bodies apart. A few stones came loose, but Pantheon had placed the charges precisely enough to avoid collapsing the mine.

The already half-broken Wraiths lost what little nerve remained. Their defensive line collapsed completely.

A little more than ten minutes later, the smoke and dust had settled, though the mine’s ventilation fans were still rumbling.

Pantheon strolled into the Wraith camp, humming a silly little tune. Panam, Mitch, and the other Aldecaldos followed with their weapons ready, still uneasy.

Even war veterans like Mitch and Scorpion shuddered at what they found. Charred limbs lay scattered everywhere, and blood stained the rock walls.

Many had died from the sonic assault, blood streaming from their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths, their faces twisted in agony. Some had bashed their heads against the walls to escape the pain. Others, unable to orient themselves, had crawled blindly across the floor on their hands.

Mitch stopped and fanned himself. The tunnel was cooler than the Badlands outside, but a strange heat crept through his body.

Pantheon had kept the Aldecaldos away while deploying the sonic oscillator and Hive Spider, so they had no idea exactly what weapons he had used. That secrecy was necessary. They weren’t close enough to show each other all their cards.

It was better for everyone that way.

Ahead of them, Pantheon continued humming as he searched the Wraiths’ corpses. These were all small-time grunts. He could barely squeeze a few eddies out of any of them.

Where the hell was their boss?

[Detected trait: [Unflappable] (Green)]

[Keep this trait?]

[Unflappable] (Green)

Description: Sexy furry?

Effect: Cool +2. Special effect: Your peculiar tastes make you immune to certain temptations.

What the hell? Who wanted this crap?

The absurd trait gave Pantheon another little taste of what made the Cyberpunk world so strange.

Its attribute bonus wouldn’t stack with what he already had, and the special effect was far too bizarre. For the first time, Pantheon chose not to keep a trait, unwilling to risk any unpleasant side effects.

[Trait decomposed. Essence +51]

[Detected trait: [Intermediate Machinist] (Green)]

Description: Do you know anything about machining?

Effect: Technical Ability +2. Special effect: Reduces errors in machining.

This one was at least usable.

After so long with the system, though, Pantheon had almost exhausted the low-level traits that could improve his attributes. Getting stronger was becoming much harder.

He kept searching, but found nothing else worthwhile. At least he had accumulated enough Essence for a ten-pull.

He would do it once he got home tonight.

Pantheon glanced at his status panel. With attributes like these, he could walk around Night City without fearing much of anything.

[Name: Pantheon]

[Attributes]

Body: 18 (+12)

Reflexes: 18 (+13)

Intelligence: 13 (+7)

Cool: 12 (+5)

Technical Ability: 16 (+7)

[Essence: 1082]

[Items: [Delta GTI Operative Equipment Technical Data] (Blue), [Magnetically Contained Plasma Energy Shield] (Blue)...]

[Abilities: [Dead Eye] (Red), [Stronger with Every Battle] (Blue)...]

[Traits: [Edgerunner] (Purple), [Ace Driver] (Purple)...]

“All right, quit standing around. Let’s get to work.”

Pantheon’s voice snapped everyone back to attention.

Leaving a few nomads to clear the bodies at the entrance, he led Panam toward the camp’s center.

The three cargo containers were still there, practically undamaged apart from scratches at their corners. Even the deepest marks had failed to penetrate their alloy shells. The Wraiths had been too late. Pantheon scanned them with his cybernetic eye and confirmed they were the shipment he had been hired to recover.

“That’s it. Looks like this gig is done.”

He tapped the cold metal shell, curious about what was inside. Given their size, could there be people inside?

Pantheon smiled to himself and put the thought aside.

Then he turned to Panam.

“Your clan gets thirty percent of the Wraiths’ loot. Help me get these things out of here.”

“O-okay. I’ll call Saul right away.”

Panam holstered her gun, a new note of caution creeping into her voice.

“What’s with the formalities, Panam?”

Pantheon teased.

“Fuck you!”

The words came out of Panam’s mouth before she had time to think.

“Hahaha!”

Pantheon had no interest in formal deference. He preferred seeing people act like themselves. Panam rolled her eyes and turned to help the others, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Just as they were clearing the battlefield, a dull boom echoed from deep inside the mine.

BOOM!

The entire mine trembled, and small stones dropped from the ceiling.

“What was that? Another ambush?”

Mitch immediately raised his weapon, aiming down the tunnel.

Pantheon frowned, produced a remote control, and sent one of his little cars ahead to investigate. It found a concealed passage behind the camp, leading deeper into the mountain.

After six or seven hundred meters, it reached a wall of rubble. The tunnel had been blown shut, massive boulders blocking the way.

“Panam?”

“We couldn’t stop the ones outside. They got away.”

Panam looked embarrassed. Most of the Aldecaldos were inside the mine. The enemy had taken advantage of that opening.

“Forget it.”

Pantheon decided not to dwell on it. It was embarrassing to have enemies slip away from him twice in a row, but the priority was delivering the cargo, not chasing a handful of Wraiths.

How much money could those Wraiths have anyway? Night Corp’s reward was far more tempting. Besides, a few Wraiths with hardly any followers and no clan protection would struggle to survive in the Badlands.

“Panam, get your people moving. Drinks are on me when we get back to Night City.”