Chapter 112 c

Chapter 112 c

Lucy propped herself on the netrunning chair, but her arms suddenly went weak, and she nearly toppled to the floor.

“Careful!”

Leo rushed forward, catching her just in time. “Don’t move,” he said quietly.

He didn’t tell her to lie back down and rest—he knew how much she disliked using a netrunning chair. She’d only forced herself to use it because they needed intel as quickly as possible, and this was the fastest, most efficient way.

Leo scooped Lucy into his arms and carried her to a nearby couch. He gently brushed aside the hair over her forehead. “Take a minute to rest. Once you’re feeling better, you can tell me what you’ve found.”

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Southeast of the Taiping District lay the Jackson Plains. Its barren hills rolled on under a scorching sun, the baked ground shimmering with heat haze. Leo installed a disguised tire-shredder on the highway—made to look like a simple speed bump—then dashed up a hill for cover. Across from him, at varying angles, Lucy, Jackie, and V each took up a vantage point of their own. With four people spread out, there were no blind spots in their field of fire.

According to the intel Lucy had extracted from the Tiger Claw’s subnet, each division under that gang had its own focus. The Jotaro division, for instance, handled the manufacturing and transportation of Glitter. Operating multiple dens across Kabuki, the Jotaro Group sold this Glitter to the badlands through the Raffen Shiv.

One might wonder, “Aren’t the Raffen Shiv just an evil version of regular nomads? Most nomads don’t have the money to buy top-shelf weapons, cyberware, or vehicles—how can the Raffen Shiv afford Glitter?”

Well, it wasn’t for their personal use. They simply served as a relay, smuggling the drug to other cities or even other countries. In Night City, almost every gang dabbled in the Glitter trade, except for the Mox and the Valentinos.

- The Mox made enough profit from braindances alone. Susie Q, ever-cautious, forbade involvement with Glitter to avoid the extra risk.

- The Valentinos, with many members of Mexican descent, despised the drug. Mexico had long been ravaged by narcotics cartels brazen enough to go head-to-head with the government—trafficking was a key factor in their homeland’s downfall. So while the Valentinos earned money both legally and illegally, one line they never crossed was the sale of Glitter.

…

Lucy hadn’t lingered too long inside the Tiger Claw’s subnet so as not to raise suspicion. She grabbed the intel on the Jotaro Group and promptly disconnected, scrubbing all her traces. The Tiger Claws had no clue a “little cat” had slipped in.

Armed with this information, the group loaded up and headed straight to Jackson Plains to ambush a Jotaro Group cargo truck.

They didn’t wait long. Soon, a truck emerged from the wavering heat on the horizon—an Archer “Villefort Columbus” V340- model. Released in 2068, the Columbus was Archer’s cheapest, most cost-effective cargo vehicle, widely popular among mid- to lower-tier shipping companies and families needing a transport van. It was known for straightforward specs and a modest engine—nothing fancy, but more than enough for the job.

At a glance, it looked just like any other delivery truck plying the roads. The only unusual detail was the stylized phoenix painted on the side. In Night City’s Kabuki, there was a place called Phoenix Casino, the turf of the Jotaro Group.

Which meant this was undoubtedly their target.

“Hold position,” Leo hissed over the comms. “Wait for my signal.”

He kept his sights on the truck. Once it drew close, he jammed his thumb on the detonator. The disguised speed bump suddenly sprouted teeth, turning into a tire-shredder. The driver, startled, slammed the brakes, afraid to swerve and roll the vehicle at such speed.

Bang!

Bang!

The front tires burst with deafening pops. The truck skidded onward for dozens of meters, finally screeching to a halt, while the driver’s forehead smashed into the horn, triggering an incessant blare. Those in the cargo hold were thrown about like rag dolls, dazed and disoriented.

Moments later, the cargo door swung open and several armed Jotaro Group members jumped out, scanning the area.

“Now! Take ’em down!” Leo’s low voice crackled in everyone’s earpiece as he opened fire.

Before this ambush, Jackie had purchased the tire-shredder from Padre, while Leo had sourced four “Ashura” Smart Sniper Rifles from Rogue. The Ashura wasn’t just any rifle. In the old days, snipers had to be experts—hawks-eyed elites who carefully calculated bullet drop, wind, and even the Earth’s curvature.

Nowadays, as long as you had the right implants and enough zeros in your bank account, anyone could shoot with perfect accuracy.

Developed by Tsunami Defense Systems, the Ashura fed target data and magnified images directly into a user’s optical gear and automatically corrected ballistic drift. Its built-in targeting hardware meant no more missing your mark. Leo himself didn’t have any cyberoptics, but his tactical visor provided the same function.

With four snipers on four different hills, the Jotaro Group members had nowhere to hide. Half of them dropped in seconds, and the rest dove behind the truck. It did no good: between Leo, Lucy, Jackie, and V, they had every angle covered. Within moments, the entire squad was wiped out, never even laying eyes on their attackers.

“Clear,” Leo said after sweeping the area with his visor. “No survivors.”

He signaled the others to move in. The bodies? Not worth a second glance. Leo marched straight to the truck pulled out his katana, Muramasa, and stabbed at the tires one by one. He found nothing in the first few, but at last, in the final tire, he hit the mother lode:

 A pile of eurodollar bills large enough to rupture the rubber. The stash glimmered vividly in the sun.

This was Jotaro Shobo’s dirty money, drenched in blood and culpability, each bill reeking of countless sins.

“We splitting this, or what?”

Jackie asked, grinning from ear to ear. He stuffed his share into a bag, then zipped and unzipped it a few times just to be sure the cash was really there. Satisfied, he slung the bag over his shoulder.

“So, what next?”

Even with a hefty windfall of several tens of thousands of eddies, Leo looked utterly emotionless—like a bleak political map carved up in old wars, no joy on his face. It wasn’t an act. Ever since he started partnering with Padre to craft high-end tech weapons, pulling in daily profits in the tens of thousands had become routine.

Plus, Maine’s team still owed him money, and the rent on his Valley District apartment was raking in thousands more every month. He’d already shelled out a small fortune just to outfit their team with Ashura rifles for this operation alone. When you were used to bigger numbers, a few thousand in drug money didn’t move the needle much.