Cyberpunk: From Dogville to Legend

Chapter 475 Havana's Venomous Fangs (Part 1) [5K]

Heywood.

At night, Heywood is clearly divided into two parts: across an old street that has not yet been rebuilt, the harbor city occupied by the Valentino gang is lit with sparse lights.

Because of its proximity to the company square, the infrastructure here isn't actually that bad, but unfortunately, the network system supplying Heywood Electricity is damaged, so the lines haven't been connected yet.

In contrast, the area taken over by the Dreamers, once power was restored, was viewed from above as a sea of ​​lights, stretching as far as the eye could see, as if life had returned to before the cyberwar...

Jack wrapped his coat tighter around himself. Luckily, Valentino had brought his family along. Although there were many informants around, Jack, well-versed in the city's rules, made his way through the hollow corridors built in some shantytowns.

Vendors were hawking their wares everywhere. He came here not only to meet someone, but also because he could observe the port from the muddy tidal flats along the Haihe River.

"Oh shit…"

Jack felt that something was visibly wrong with Valentino.

They seemed to know something big was about to happen; these hyenas were usually nowhere to be seen in places where there was no profit to be made.

Murder and robbery are never the primary survival principle for any gang.

Everyone needs to maintain a presentable appearance and avoid the prosecutors who might come at any moment because they smell something. Everything must be done with dignity.

Therefore, the gang's most important source of revenue is extracting so-called kickbacks from the commercial district, which has become an unwritten rule in Night City.

After Jack disappeared into the alleyway on the left, the Valentino gang members standing on the street ahead, laughing and joking with cigarettes in their mouths, seemed to sense something—

They all looked down into the bustling corridor. Aside from the tattered clothes and lifeless, zombie-like passersby, and the idiot lying on the ground, convulsing from Mewtwo and his medication…

So they turned their heads and touched the retro-modified car that matched the Valentino gang's aesthetic again. The dark gold paint on it was so dazzling that it seemed to pierce the last fig leaf of this city.

"That was close."

Jack grumbled as he walked through the alleyway, which was overflowing with sewage and crawling with cockroaches. He knew the smell all too well; someone was probably tinkering with chemicals in these places.

As for what they're going to do, that's easy to guess.

It's hard to imagine that Kirk has ended up like this.

Jack thought this guy was long dead. After all, Wild Wolves used to have the Valentino gang. Although Kirk could use his connections to make a name for himself near Wild Wolves, he disappeared after that chase of Arasaka students.

If Jack hadn't been investigating the Valentino gang, he might never have met this man in his lifetime.

Despite the unbearable smell, Jack frowned and reached inside, quickly seeing the message Kirk had sent him on text.

It seems someone arrived here first...

Before Jack even went inside, he heard a cracking sound coming from inside the dilapidated automatic door, followed by a man's hoarse voice.

"I've told you so many times, I really don't have a single penny left!"

After a series of sounds of tables and chairs falling over.

The rough, masculine voice spoke in Spanish, "You scum, if you want to be a thug, ask the brass knuckles on my hand if they'll allow it?"

"You dare to steal my goods when I ask you to do something? You're asking for trouble! You think you're so great just because I told you you're fat?!"

Kirk's momentum was clearly not as strong as before...

"Dude, I didn't sell a single one! It's all for my own use!"

The man's voice was filled with disbelief.

"Kirk, do I have any blood?!"

"Even the sick cows on the protein farm don't produce this much! Do you know what you're talking about, you bastard? A week!!!"

"You've wiped out all the stuff from Cuba in just one week! I'll chop you up!"

Bang!
The door was ripped open with tremendous force.

Jack was a burly, strong, and physically capable man. Even without any cybernetic equipment, he could make the Vortex Gang's modification fanatics cry for their parents. So when he appeared, he completely blocked out the neon lights crowding into the alley.

"Hey! Busy, guys?"

Jack was carrying two machetes on his back; he didn't look like a visitor at all.

The living conditions in Night City weren't exactly bad, but they were absolutely terrible. The pungent, strange smell in his nostrils made Jack feel like someone had died there.

Three guys dressed as members of the Valentino gang surrounded a man lying on the ground who looked like a skeleton. If Jack hadn't been able to vaguely recognize him by his voice, he might not have recognized him even if he had just walked past him on the street.

"That's terrible (Spanish). What's wrong, guys? Aren't you welcome?"

The only weapon the burly man who barged in could use against him was his revolver. The group of men, guns drawn, squinted at him. "Wells kid?"

Jack nodded.

"Genuine, Amigo..."

Although his tone was humorous, Jack's wary posture was extremely obvious. In the past, Jack could have helped Valentino mediate for these people, but not now...

He figured that the 'glorious deeds' of his chosen company had already spread throughout the Valentino gang.

"Camilla is blind, Jack, how dare you even show your face?"

Jack was amused.

How can these flour sellers be so arrogant?

“I’m telling you, anyone who didn’t know better would think you were doing community service here.” Jack’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists. “If you punched Kirk twice more, he would be dead. I need to talk to him, so of course I can’t let you keep doing this.”

Valentino's group exchanged glances.

They clearly knew where Jack's weakness lay...

"You, from the Wells family, give it a try..."

The guy who forced Kirk to step forward slowly approached Jack, and soon a street scene reminiscent of the prelude to a street brawl unfolded—a kind of coded signal in street fights.

"Heel-to-shoulder".

In short, even though the guy was half a head shorter than Jack, he still forced Jack to back down with his muscular physique. His prosthetic tattoos, which were occasionally visible, were not as flashy and useless as those of other members of the Valentino gang.

Normally, Jack would be more than happy if these drug dealers could bury Kirk, who was already dead, but right now he had to save him.

Seeing the burly man advancing with his forehead pressed against Jack's like a bull, Jack thought these guys were somewhat confident.

Dealing with a few members of the Valentino gang here was indeed a lot of trouble, since these "wasps" would keep chasing us as long as we couldn't contact them, but...

Jack has a way.

It would be better if they didn't die.

Jack's lips twitched, and thinking the kid was scared, they burst into laughter. Kirk, whose eyes had been filled with hope, collapsed to the ground again, coughing dejectedly.

Everything's fucking ruined!
He had originally hoped to use his silver tongue to get Jack to help him out, but now he's found himself in a difficult situation.

Anyone who underestimates Jack Valentino, who left the Valentino gang years ago, will pay the price, without exception.

The most dangerous people on the streets of Night City are those who have done a lot of stupid things but are still alive and kicking.

Boldness, meticulousness, and talent are all indispensable.

The burly man, his eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction, watched Jack's seemingly embarrassed smile and sneered in response. He then turned to his two brothers, urging them to quickly finish off Kirk...

But it was this act of turning their heads and laughing together that ruined them.

Jack's voice suddenly rang out, "Hey, look here!"

A dull thud, no less than a sledgehammer hitting a wall, rang out. The guy in front of Jack's head jerked twice, his knees buckled, and his hands slumped to the ground, slowly sliding down Jack's jeans...

Before the two Valentino gang members, who were grinning from ear to ear with their guns twitching, could react, Jack had already launched his attack in the messy room.

He grabbed the expired devil noodle box filled with chili peppers and threw it at someone's face. Then, he used one hand to support himself on the table and performed a perfect pole vault, kicking the idiot who could only scream but hadn't even fired a shot in the chest.

With the sound of the prosthetic body activating, the fallen man's body stabilized in a bizarre posture.

I'll kill you, you bastard!

Before he could finish speaking, Jack slammed his frying pan into the guy's face, then drew his knife and delivered a heavy blow to the guy's face with the side of the blade.

Kirk felt he was probably still reeling from the Cuban delicacies.

In the blink of an eye, those three bull-like guys were neatly taken down? What was truly infuriating was that Jack simply clapped his hands, slowly backed away, and effortlessly slammed the door shut. Then, he grabbed the guy who was staggering to his feet and trying to fight back, pinned his head down, and slammed it against the wall a few times…

The three gang members, bound hand and foot, never imagined that just minutes before they were all high and mighty, and now they were prisoners. Moreover, Jack was an experienced manipulator who had cut off their neural command analysis modules, making it impossible for them to make phone calls via cell phone or brain-computer interface.

There's a solution to everything.

Jack always thought so…

However, Heywood really had to handle things himself. If his good friend "Lin Yue," who was on TV, came over, those three idiots would be lucky to escape with their lives.

So Jack wanted to find a way for Heywood in his own way.

But the prerequisite is that these people can behave themselves.

"Waaah won't help. Just stay put, you won't go hungry for more than a few days."

It must be said that the street urchin was indeed very experienced in kidnapping.

Stuffing things into their mouths doesn't actually stop them from talking, so Jack stuffed several wads of unidentified cloth into their mouths and then wrapped a ring of tape around their heads.

After all, it's easier to have a conversation if it's quiet.

He was also very anxious. He had promised Lin Yue an answer last night, but now he hadn't even found out who was behind Heywood…

Let's hope we don't actually summon that killing machine.

Jack lit a cigarette, took a satisfying puff, and the strange smell from Kirk's room dissipated considerably. Only then did he look at Kirk lying on the ground, looking like a sick dog.

Gamblers and drug addicts.

Jack generally doesn't sympathize with either of these types of people: those who live life with clarity and take themselves seriously, and those who are poor only temporarily. But if he were to get involved with this kind of person—

He doesn't blink.

"Five years? Six years since I last saw Jack..."

Kirk, coughing and bruised, got up from the ground. "I never expected you to be such a good street boxer."

Jack glanced around.

Where's that chubby kid next to you who loves junk food?

Kirk's smile was bleak. "We broke up three years ago. He went back to the Sixth Street gang and is now a minor officer."

"Mrs. Wells has cut off my source of income, and that's how it is."

Jack frowned.

As soon as Kirk opened his mouth, Jack began to consider whether cooperation was necessary.

The fact that things went so badly wasn't because of any deception or trickery that nearly caused Arakasa to cause trouble and find Haywood, but simply because Mrs. Wells cleaned things up.

"If you're going to talk like that, I don't need to be standing here."

“Trying to side with your own people regardless of right or wrong, that’s how the Haywood people have always been… Thinking about it carefully, Kirk, I’m starting to suspect that you’re here to set me up.”

"never mind."

Jack sighed, pointing his knife at the Valentino gang members, whose eyes widened in terror as they whimpered…

"This knife will either put you on the line for these lives, or these three will let go. But I won't bother them, but you will be in trouble—so you have to explain yourself clearly, and I need to consider whether what you're saying is true."

Kirk's face was gaunt, almost like a dead man.

"It's okay, Jack, I don't care."

"I'm just saying a few words because I'm unhappy. If I take care of that Arakawa kid, I'll get myself into a lot of trouble too."

"You know what? The person behind that kid wiped everything clean."

“I know Mrs. Wells doesn’t want me to do anything reckless, but living in this cesspool, pretending to be an innocent, good citizen… is that how it works?”

Jack stared intently into the guy's dull pupils.

He slowly sat down. "How many years?"

Kirk was trying to recall things, but his brain had long been corroded and hollowed out, so he had many problems, such as his words being incoherent.

"Forget about it, just take it one day at a time."

Kirk suddenly laughed, "More than ten years, we've been watching this since we were kids!"

Jack pointed at the group, "The Cuban stuff they were talking about, my cousin got caught messing around with it, and it came from Dogtown, from Cubans?"

As soon as the topic came up, the three people Jack had subdued reacted extremely strongly.

One of them even forced the confession open with his tongue, saying, "Stop asking the fuck, you really want to die!"

"Don't even mention Cubans!"

"You have no idea how those cadres died... Their subordinates were all outside the house, but they were lying inside when they were gone."

"Her heart was ripped out and placed on the desk, along with a bullet. Don't mention that person's name, or someone will die!"

Jack never expected that this batch of goods that Kirk had embezzled would elicit such a strong reaction from these people.

Startled, Jack quickly composed himself and shut the guy up.

Kirk stared blankly at Jack.

"Give me money, I can't survive anymore."

Jack immediately pressed, "What's the name of the person Camilla is working with?"

Kirk fell silent.

After a long while, he kept scratching the festering sores on his body, saying, "I...I've said what I needed to say, please give me the money."

Jack had experience "taking care" of his cousin, so he knew that this was the other person's withdrawal symptoms.

So they tied him up first.

"Kirk, listen to me, this isn't something that can be easily resolved. I'm taking the risk to come to you to settle this matter. Money isn't the point; the point is that I can help you live like my cousin, with dignity. Why don't you give it a try?"

Kirk kept snorting through his nostrils.

Trembling, he screamed, "Give me the fuck my money! I'm going to die!"

Jack stood up and kicked the scoundrel. "You fucking talk properly. You're not going to touch that thing while I'm here."

"Say!"

The three Valentinos kept whimpering, and Kirk began to hallucinate, convulse, and bang his head against the ground.

Jack just pressed him down hard; he had to tough it out.

Kirk's crime did not warrant death.

No one in Night City can guarantee they won't do anything against their conscience. Jack wouldn't do something like that to him; he'd at least try to get him to a reliable prosthetic doctor.

"This thing is beyond saving!"

Jack didn't ask Kirk to say anything; he could only patiently wait for Kirk's reaction to pass.

However, although Kirk couldn't struggle physically, he could still speak. Just as Jack was looking around and about to stuff the wad of cloth into Kirk's mouth to prevent him from biting his tongue, the guy suddenly tilted his head back like a madman—

"Ah, Aguilar!"

"How did you come?"

Jack instinctively looked up and found the messy room empty.

The room fell silent instantly, with no one responding. Jack then saw three gang members whose faces were as white as cement.

My head suddenly started buzzing.

"Hold…"

"Jack! You fucking need to calm down, we're all doomed! Aguilar's everywhere, tell Mrs. Wells to stop messing around!"

"Is it done?"

All three of them burst into tears.

Even if Kirk is killed, the goods can always be replaced with something else. But if Jack finds out and comes looking for trouble…

None of those present could cover it up.

The basic requirement for cooperation with Cuba is that no one should know about the existence of Cubans.

Camilla wouldn't have said anything, but now this hothead Jack has overheard it...

Jack stood up with a gloomy face.

How could the well-informed Haywood not have heard of Aguilar? Among the top ten lone wolves of Night City, Aguilar is the only legendary lone wolf for whom there is no definite information, and even his gender is unknown.

Jack dreams of becoming one of these people…

But Jack felt uncertain about facing this group of people.

"屮."

"you…"

Jack unconsciously considered himself a member of the Valentino gang, after all, he had risked his life for the organization.

"That Wells kid is talking nonsense!"

"What wouldn't this kind of person say if they were addicted?"

Jack's face grew increasingly grim.

The attempt to cover up the truth actually reveals something real...

Meanwhile, somewhere unknown.

An old-fashioned lighter is heating a cigar, which releases a faint aroma reminiscent of coffee beans…

The cigar was lit.

……

……

(End of this chapter)