"Rules? What fucking rules!"
The new Maelstrom boss stormed out from behind the door, and Dum Dum hurriedly sidled away, Flathead clutched to his chest.
Royce took a few quick steps to plant himself in front of Vash, racked his gun, and shoved the black muzzle right up to Vash's forehead.
"I said you pay twice! So you pay twice! Twenty thousand eddies — not a cent less!" Royce's chrome was more extensive than ever.
Half his face was gone, and the exposed optics in his implant glared like a predator, radiating that unmistakable miniboss aura.
"Hey, cyberpsycho. Who the hell you think you're pointing that iron at?" Jackie's temper flared. He yanked his own piece and leveled it at Royce without hesitation.
An ex-Valentino, he knew gang etiquette better than most. What he couldn't stand was Maelstrom's complete disregard for any code.
In the blink of an eye, every Maelstrom gonk in the room had a gun trained on the two of them.
In the center of that killbox, Vash stayed unnervingly calm. He rose from the sofa at an unhurried pace, as if the barrel in his face simply didn't exist.
"Royce. I don't like guns pointed at me." Vash said, voice cold as steel.
"You've got three seconds to tell me who sent you, and who you're really working for." Royce's finger settled on the trigger.
"Dexter DeShawn." Vash replied.
"That fat fuck who jawjacks the Animals and struts around Pacifica?" Royce didn't lower his weapon — clearly the name didn't impress him. He sneered, "I was running jobs when you two were still wet behind the ears. Two worthless mercs think they can stroll into my turf and cross me? You've got two choices: pay thirty thousand eddies and take the bot… or I put you in the ground."
Classic Maelstrom shake-down. Brick had already taken the payment, and now Royce was muscling in to overwrite the deal. The gonk was so full of himself he was openly tearing up the agreement in front of them.
And he was getting worse by the second — raising it again, straight to thirty thousand.
If they were following the original script, Vash would've prepped with Meredith, grabbed Militech's credshard — virus and all — and simply paid.
But this time he'd moved first. He was the one holding the tempo.
Which meant: no money.
"What if I pick neither?" Vash asked.
"Then die!"
Royce's grin twisted, vicious and hungry, and he started to squeeze—
At the same moment, Vash had already drawn Skippy.
「Threat to user detected. Automatically activating Stone Cold Killer mode. Auto-fire engaged!」
Bang!
Royce never got the chance to shoot. Skippy locked onto his head and fired first.
Smart weapons didn't just pull off tricks conventional iron couldn't; they hit harder, too.
The shot was as loud as a shotgun blast. The round tore straight into Royce's exposed optics and cyberbrain, turning them into scrap in a single shot.
With Royce down in the opening move, the room detonated into chaos.
Vash lifted his hand. Skippy's targeting snapped from skull to skull, immediately kicking into headshot protocol.
Two more Maelstromers dropped before he vaulted behind the sofa for cover.
Jackie surged forward, matte-black gorilla arms unfolding from beneath his sleeves. One punch caved Dum Dum in mid-step — no mercy, no warning — killing him on the spot as he tried to flee with Flathead.
"V, catch!"
Jackie hurled the case containing Flathead toward Vash, then ducked to scoop up two guns. He planted himself in the doorway and opened fire in a brutal, steady stream, pinning Maelstrom on the far side.
"Maelstrom gonks — Grandpa Jack's sending you straight to the afterlife!"
Most people could barely handle a single LMG, but with gorilla arms Jackie dual-wielded the heavy iron like it was nothing.
That was Valentino muscle for you!
Behind the sofa, Vash caught Flathead and, in the same motion, drew his Nekomata sniper rifle.
He finished Royce for good with another shot, but outside the room the rest of Maelstrom had already started sealing off the exits to All Foods. More gangers were retreating through the outer corridors, regrouping.
Killing Royce wasn't the hard part. Getting out alive was.
"Friday." Vash said, "Hack into every camera and auto-turret in this place. Take them over."
He remembered how it played out in the game — Maelstrom netrunners using the factory's cams to track targets, old Militech hardware waking up and spitting lead.
Now, with Friday in control of the whole facility, the tables would turn.
"Jack." Vash called, moving toward a maintenance passage that led into the outer workshop, "We fight our way out. We can't stay here."
"Your call, V." Jackie dropped the machine guns without a second thought and strode over.
"Here." Vash pressed Skippy into his hands.
Skippy was leagues above Jackie's JKE-X2 Kenshin, and they were about to need every advantage they could get.
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T/N: Comment, give me Power Stones, like and favorite, it all supports me and makes me go foward with this. Appreciate my other stories as well, I guarantee the good work!
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