There's no reason it should've worked—but it did.
A PS5 controller sat in my hand. Smooth, black, with glowing blue lines on the touchpad. Something completely alien to Night City. It wasn't part of my system. It wasn't in any crafting list. But I made it anyway.
Because I could.
"The only limit," I muttered with a grin, spinning it between my fingers, "is my imagination. Took me one minute with max stats."
"Woof! Woof!"
Lola circled me excitedly, tail wagging, ears perked.
"Maybe I should create something more... practical," I mused. "A supercomputer? Or gadgets for you. What do you think, Lola? Want a backpack with robotic arms? One that dispenses ammo, med stims, maybe has a taser cannon built in for crowd control?"
"Woof! Woof! Woof!" She practically bounced in the air.
God, I loved this dog. Not just a pet—Lola was a beast. A tactical asset. Overpowered beyond reason, yet smarter than most people in Night City. She could flank, scout, attack, and assist—often before I even gave a command. A living mod with fur and fangs.
Riiing. Riiing.
My phone rang. Jackie's name popped up.
"Yo, Jackie. Tell me you're not in another bar brawl already."
"C'mon, mano," Jackie laughed. "Gimme some credit. Do I look like the type to go looking for trouble?"
"Yes. 100% yes. Mama Welles told me about that incident with the flamethrower and the Mariachi band."
He groaned. "Anyway, I got a gig. Need backup. Some Maelstrom freaks hijacked a building. Client wants 'em gone."
"You said 'we,' so I'm guessing V's in too?"
"Yup. Girl's tough, but still getting her bearings. Bought an apartment in Watson, still soaking in the city vibes."
"I'm in. Send me the coordinates."
"Meet you there."
The call cut. I turned to Lola.
"We got a party to crash."
"Woof."
Fifteen minutes later, a scratched-up Thorton Galena pulled up with Jackie at the wheel and V riding shotgun. I hopped into the back with Lola, who immediately claimed the middle seat like she owned it.
"Yo, 8!" Jackie grinned in the rearview. "Brought the muscle, I see."
"She's cuter than you and bites harder."
"Damn, fair."
V turned halfway around in her seat. "So, the client?"
"Wants the squatters gone," Jackie answered. "Maelstrom took over his property—some cheap motel in Northside. He wants it cleaned out. Quietly, if possible."
I gave V a nod. "You adjusting to the city?"
"I'm trying," she admitted. "Nomad life's different. Everything here's… cluttered. No room to breathe."
"You'll get there. Just remember: you're not alone."
She offered a small smile. "Thanks."
The "motel" was anything but welcoming. A rust-eaten corpse of a building, splashed in gang tags and blood. The front doors were blown wide open, charred from an explosive entry. A few broken-down cars outside bore Maelstrom's twisted chrome insignias.
"Let's find a quiet spot," I said. "We need a plan."
We ducked into an alley behind the building. The fire escape was intact—barely. Good enough.
The plan was simple:
Sneak in from above. Take out as many as possible quietly. If it goes loud, use electric grenades. Lola and I would cover flanks and dive in when necessary.
"Take these," I said, handing Jackie and V custom armored jackets. "Modded for shock resistance. And these," I added, handing them EMP grenades. "Maelstrom's more machine than man. These'll fry their optics long enough for you to finish them."
Jackie blinked. "You came loaded, huh?"
I shrugged. "I'm always ready. Lola's coming too."
V raised a brow. "She's trained?"
"Better than me."
"Woof."
Inside, the motel reeked of oil, blood, and something rotten. The first few floors were relatively empty. Me, Jackie, and V moved like shadows, Lola watching our six.
We dropped six Maelstrom goons without a sound. A quick snap of Lola's jaws here, a silenced round through a skull there. Easy. Controlled.
The real problem was the basement.
A dozen signatures, all packed tight.
"Too many for stealth," V whispered.
"They'll see us coming," Jackie added.
"We hit them fast," I said. "You two lead with grenades. I'll suppress from the side. My pistol's modded for armor-piercing—can go through three walls of concrete."
"Let's make it loud," V grinned.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The grenades went off first, lighting the room in electric fire. Screams. Sparks. And then—
"We're under attack!"
"Call the leader!"
"Take cover!"
I moved through the chaos like death itself, my shots punching through desks and metal lockers. One bullet caught a chromehead mid-scream, sending his neural socket sparking. Another pierced through a wall and nailed two more behind it.
Lola moved with uncanny speed, vaulting over furniture, flipping tables, dropping one goon with a bite to the throat before vanishing into smoke.
Jackie and V swept the flanks, dropping stunned Maelstromers with clean headshots. We moved like a unit. A real team.
Five minutes later—silence.
"Think that's it?" Jackie asked, catching his breath.
"No," I said quietly. "Where's the leader?"
And that's when the wall exploded.
Two Maelstrom brutes stomped through. Seven feet tall. Full-body chrome. Smartguns and heavy armor plating. The real monsters.
One opened fire with a minigun. Concrete shattered around us.
"COVER!" I shouted, grabbing Jackie and throwing him behind a flipped vending machine. Lola barked and tackled V into the opposite hallway.
"Jackie! V! Still got your grenades?"
"Yeah," Jackie yelled. "But these bastards look bulletproof!"
"They are. But I got a plan."
I didn't wait for permission.
Lola and I charged.
We blitzed forward through the gunfire, each round slicing the air inches from our heads. I moved like wind, Lola like lightning. Parkour off walls, dives through shattered doors. The brutes reacted, but too slow.
They tried to swing their heavy weapons like clubs.
Bad move.
I ducked under the first one, ripped the weapon from his arm, and spun around to smash his visor. Lola lunged at the second, climbing up his back and tearing the wires from his neck.
The helmets came off.
"NOW!"
Jackie and V were already in motion. Each of them sprinted forward, yanked the pins from their last EMP grenades, and shoved them directly into the brutes' open visors.
BOOM.
The grenades detonated inside their suits. A blinding flash. The room went silent.
When the smoke cleared, the two brutes were cooked—smoking, twitching, collapsing in pieces.
V coughed. "Jesus…"
Jackie blinked. "Did we just—?"
"Yeah," I grinned. "Teamwork."
Jackie whooped and pulled us into a group hug. "We just wiped the whole fucking Maelstrom nest!"
Lola barked happily.
Then V's eyes narrowed. "Uh... Jackie?"
"What?"
"You're bleeding."
He froze. "Where?"
We looked. Then we laughed.
"HAAAHAHAHA!"
"Bro," I wheezed. "You got shot… in the ass."
"It's not funny!" Jackie groaned, trying to look behind him. "You got any med stims?"
"Here." I tossed him one.
The stim sealed the bleeding, but the round was still embedded.
"Dammit… I'm gonna need Vik to pull the bullet."
We walked out of the motel, sun setting behind us. V took the wheel. Jackie sat shotgun—awkwardly tilted, trying not to sit fully down. I could barely keep a straight face. Lola? She kept poking his backside with her snout.
"You're loving this, aren't you?" Jackie muttered.
"Woof."
We pulled up in Watson, near Misty's Esoterica. Jackie groaned. "Guys. Please. Don't say anything to Misty. I don't want her to know I got shot... there."
"Our lips are sealed," I said.
"Jackie?" a familiar voice called.
Speak of the devil. Misty stood at the gate, looking concerned.
Jackie tried to straighten. "M-Misty? What are you doing here?"
"Was restocking crystals. Wait—why are you walking funny?"
V and I started laughing again. But Lola... oh Lola.
She pounced—and bit him right in the ass.
End of Chapter.