Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 76: The Underground Laboratory (Patreon)

The makeshift storage depot wasn't particularly large. As soon as Pantheon drove into the area, he caught a faint smell like a public restroom, probably from ammonia.

Following the odor, he soon found its source in a corner of the depot. Barrels of unidentified hazardous chemicals stood piled into a small mountain in the open, while neatly stacked urea sacks filled the warehouse.

Tyger Claws members lounged around in little groups, some playing cards and others chatting. One suicidal idiot was even smoking beside the warehouse!

Calling the depot's security lax would have been generous. There wasn't any security to speak of.

Perhaps they thought no one would dare cause trouble this deep in Tyger Claws territory. Whatever the reason, they hadn't bothered to keep watch.

Pantheon scanned the place but saw no sign of the three Tyger Claws who'd murdered the dolls. He accessed the local network and reviewed the surveillance recordings to track their movements.

It looked as though they'd driven somewhere else to make a delivery.

Oh, well. He could deal with the men here first.

Pantheon eyed the warehouses full of hazardous chemicals and quietly put away his gun. For the sake of his own life, he had no intention of accidentally shooting or igniting anything unpleasant during a firefight.

He crept up to the warehouse, where the unlucky bastard was still puffing away. Looking at the urea sacks piled beside the man, with no idea what was actually inside them, Pantheon couldn't decide whether he was exceptionally lucky or exceptionally stupid.

Just as the Tyger Claws thug was about to flick his cigarette ash, a large hand reached around from behind and shoved the whole cigarette into his mouth. Another hand clamped onto his jaw and twisted hard.

Crack!

The sharp snap of bone was swallowed by the noise of the card players farther away. The smoker didn't even manage a groan before going limp.

[Essence +5]

Pantheon dragged the body somewhere out of sight and found an ordinary folding knife in its pockets.

"That's it?"

He weighed the little knife in his hand. Its edge was almost completely worn down, and he curled his lip in disdain.

Whatever. It would do for this lot.

Outside the warehouse, three Tyger Claws were gathered around a shelf, playing cards and swearing at each other. None noticed the danger closing in.

Pantheon moved in fast and hurled the knife through one man's throat. Before the other two could react, he caught them both by the neck.

Crack! Crack!

[Essence +3] [Essence +3] [Essence +3]

Useless!

Pantheon cursed inwardly, retrieved the bloody knife, and rushed the remaining guards. Within minutes, the rest of the Tyger Claws inside the warehouse lay dead, without a single one managing to raise an alarm.

Pitting men like these against Pantheon was hardly a fair fight.

Unfortunately, they dropped nothing but Essence. Not a single trait.

He tossed the knife away in disgust and found an information terminal inside the warehouse. Connecting his external cyberdeck, he broke through the encryption and brought up the depot's records.

"Let's see where you bastards ran off to."

He searched the shipping manifests and communication logs until an email caught his eye.

Recipient: Shota Kosugi

[Hey, Shota, tell your people to be careful!

A truck carrying raw materials for Glitter got stopped by the NCPD beside the lab on Rovinj Street. Nearly scared the lookout kid shitless.

Luckily, it was just a traffic violation, and they got away with a small fine.

Driving that sort of cargo around town isn't a good idea.

Night City's junkies have gone crazy for our Glitter lately. Tell your people to send more raw materials.

And watch yourselves!]

Using the message, Pantheon quickly identified the laboratory's precise location.

The Tyger Claws had actually set up a drug lab in Little China.

After the decline of the Chinese gangs, the Tyger Claws hadn't formally occupied Little China, but they'd become its de facto rulers.

Had they placed the drug lab there to protect it from other factions within their own gang?

Putting gang politics aside, Pantheon had two choices. He could stay at the depot and wait for the three killers to return with their next delivery, or storm the underground lab on Rovinj Street and wipe out both the trio and their drug operation.

He shook his head and headed for the exit.

Finding the Red Ocher clan wasn't something he could accomplish overnight. He might as well finish the job in front of him first.

Gambling and drugs were where he drew the line. Other vices were negotiable.

"Hey, Jackie. Tell Lucy and the others to get ready. We've got a big job."

...

The Merrimac "Warlock", which hadn't seen action in quite a while, made another appearance.

Its doors opened, but to Pantheon's surprise, Rebecca climbed out.

"Hey, Uncle! Long time no see!"

With Iron Guts slung over her shoulder, Rebecca skipped up to him, her two green pigtails bouncing.

Pantheon stared at her, then turned a questioning look on Jackie.

"She insisted on coming."

"So she wanted to come, and you just brought her?"

"She really insisted!"

Maine and Sasha had temporarily left Night City because of the earlier Biotechnica affair. Without two of its strongest members, Maine's crew had been reduced to taking small gigs to get by.

Somehow Rebecca had heard Pantheon had a big job coming up. She'd kicked up such a fuss about joining that good-natured Jackie hadn't been able to refuse her.

Pantheon felt a headache coming on. The foul-mouthed little firecracker was certainly a capable fighter, but this laboratory was packed with dangerous chemicals and half-processed drugs.

If Rebecca got a little too carried away with her shooting, all of Little China might end up getting high along with her.

He explained the danger seriously and warned her not to lose her head.

"Relax! My aim's perfect. I hit exactly what I shoot at!"

Rebecca raised her oversized shotgun, eager to prove it.

"You can come, but that gun stays here. I'll give you something else."

With a chuckle, Pantheon snatched the shotgun away and handed her a Budget Arms Slaught-O-Matic.

Rebecca stared at the tiny pink disposable pistol, then reluctantly gritted her teeth and accepted.

"Hmph! Don't underestimate me, you weird old man! I can kick their asses even without Iron Guts."

Ignoring her complaints, Pantheon contacted Lucy.

"Lucy, Kiwi, everything ready on your end?"

"All set. The military-grade server Militech sent over is installed. No one inside will be getting a single message out."

Pantheon nodded in satisfaction.

Judging by the raw materials shipped from the depot, the underground lab might be holding more than ten million eddies' worth of finished and semi-finished Glitter.

Even an organization as wealthy as the Tyger Claws would feel the loss of a shipment that size.

If word of the attack leaked out, reinforcements could arrive in less than twenty minutes.

They had to strike fast, hit hard, and make every move count.