Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077-Chapter 115

Upon hearing someone enter, the Scavs looked up. Seeing Leo and the others, they pointed and muttered among themselves with obvious bad intentions. If not for the fact that all four newcomers were visibly armed and looked like a hassle to provoke, the Scavs would have attacked on the spot.

They didn't move in, but that didn't stop them from blatantly sizing up the group—loudly discussing whose implants were worth the most as if Leo and the others weren't there.

"Damn scum!"

Jackie spat on the ground, and V's face was equally disgusted.

Leo, however, expressed his opinion through action. Murasame sprang from its sheath, and the Scav pointing at V was immediately cleaved in two.

The remaining Scavs never expected Leo to strike first. It wasn't until their buddy's blood splattered over them that they snapped out of it and scrambled for their guns.

With lightning speed, Leo's left hand shot forward, gripping one Scav by the neck and using him as a human shield. After blocking the incoming bullets, Leo finished him off with a slash that also skewered another Scav fumbling to reload.

Pulling Murasame free, Leo spun around and sliced in a single motion, cutting in half the Scav who had tried to ambush him from behind.

"Ugh! Ugh!"

The last Scav turned to flee, but he managed only a few steps before V put a bullet through his skull.

"I thought we were here on a recon job, keeping it low-key," V said.

"We're just cleaning up trash," Leo replied. "Even if someone heard the shots, they wouldn't come over to check."

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Around here, people had endured all kinds of chaos. They'd learned long ago that the moment they heard gunfire, either they hit the ground or ran as fast as possible in the opposite direction. Nobody in Night City stuck around to watch a firefight unless they had a death wish.

Besides, Scavs weren't even a proper gang—just the lowest of the low. Even major gangs in Night City treated them like rats or roaches. Spotting a Scav hardly required moral debates; eliminating them on sight was the norm.

...

Phoenix Casino lived up to its name by focusing mainly on gambling. Beyond that, it offered braindances, including illicit ones. Customers could come here to enjoy mainstream braindances or indulge in forbidden black braindances—illegal on the open market and only available through shady dealers or places like Phoenix Casino.

At the entrance stood two members of the Jotaro Group. They merely glanced at Leo and his group but made no move to stop them. After all, the casino was swarming with Jotaro Group members. Who would be crazy enough to start trouble on their turf?

As soon as the group stepped inside, they were hit by a wave of noise, heat, and the smell of sweat. The interior was surprisingly spacious. Directly ahead was a bar selling drinks, and to the right lay the gambling area, packed with a variety of slot machines. Every machine had a huddle of bettors, their rowdy shouts blending into a chaotic din.

Leo overheard two gamblers chatting in front of a pachinko machine.

"This time's gotta be it. I feel it in my bones—I'm gonna win big."

"How much have you lost lately?"

"Not much...just a watch, a few implants, and my apartment."

"You lost what?"

"Relax, I'll get it all back. Tonight's the night—I can feel it. Just lend me a little—"

"Hell no. Don't even think about it."

...

After wandering the first-floor hall for a bit, Leo and the others headed for the stairs. But they were stopped by Jotaro Group enforcers at the stairway.

"Hey, hold up. Where do you think you're going?"

"Upstairs off-limits?"

"Second floor's VIP only. We don't serve newbies off the street."

"So how do we become VIPs?"

"You gotta spend at least a hundred thousand eurodollars here."

Leo certainly had that kind of cash, but it would draw attention if he just threw down a hundred grand on his first visit, all for a chance to go upstairs.

In their team comm channel, which only they could hear, Leo said, "Let's head out for now."

So the four left without a fuss. Right as they were about to exit Phoenix Casino, though, an unexpected interlude occurred. A man who had been desperately gambling—losing his watch, implants, and even his apartment—came hurrying over, having failed to borrow money from a friend.

"Hey, you guys look like mercs, right?"

Leo turned to him. "That's right. What's up?"

"I've got a job for you—a big deal. If you pull it off, you'll get super famous, believe me."

Jackie sneered. "Famous, huh? You? Give me a break."

Jackie might have been a heavy drinker, but he avoided Glitter and gambling. Both brought nothing but misery, as far as he was concerned. This guy seemed so far gone he probably couldn't save himself, let alone anyone else.

"Let him finish," Leo said.

"The details are top secret, too important to share with just anyone," the man claimed. "I need you to prove your sincerity first."

"And how do we do that?"

"Just a bit of earnest money—say, a thousand eurodollars per person. That's not too much to ask, right?"

In his mind, typical merc gigs ranged anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand. A thousand each was hardly exorbitant. If he could get the money from these four, he was sure he could head back to the pachinko machine and claw back his implants and apartment—and maybe even make a fortune. He just needed some starting cash, so he had no qualms about using a "harmless" lie to get it.

"Look, pal," Leo said, stepping closer. "Normally, I don't bother preaching, but I'm in a decent mood today, so here's some free advice: gambling's a nasty business. You really ought to quit."

Leo patted him on the shoulder, then walked off without another word. The man stood there, speechless.

...

Night eventually fell over Kabuki, and the once-bustling streets grew quiet. No matter how lively people were, they couldn't party forever. Phoenix Casino also wasn't open 24/7; once midnight passed, all gamblers and black braindance junkies were kicked out, and the doors locked behind them.

In the dim glow of the streetlamps, the entire district lay in eerie silence. Most folks slept soundly at this hour. Then, a convoy of vans pulled up outside Phoenix Casino.

Their doors slid open, and a swarm of Mox women piled out, all armed with various guns. Decked out in bright, eye-catching outfits, they would've looked like they were en route to some rich client's party—if not for the weapons clutched in their hands.

Leo raised his right fist, signaling everyone to focus on him.

"All of you, connect to my squad comm channel. Let's get linked up."