Neon Knight (Cyberpunk/Arknights Crossover)

[501aris/N0ct15]

A/N: Hi, I'm 501aris, or Solaris... or Solar. Some of you might recognize me, some of you might not; that's fine. On Ao3 and FF, I write stuff, mostly normal stuff, but also NSFW when I'm feeling it, which I might post here. First off, though, I'm gonna be posting this slowly, since I write... a lot... like 10k long chapters, and I'm gonna be posting it here in smaller, more manageable bits. Regardless, welcome to my crossover of Arknights and Cyberpunk.
With that, let me give you some extra information:

Spoiler: Cyeberpunk RED Role Abilities

To explain, Cyberpunk RED has something called Role Abilities, which replace classes in the TTRPG. The Role Abilities that will be used are a Nomad's MOTO and a Tech's Maker ability since Josue is a Nomad and a Tech. In essence, a Nomad can use any vehicle in a Family's Motor Pool, depending on their Moto rank, the higher the rank, the better vehicles they have access to and even upgrades to those vehicles like making a car capable of flight or adding missiles. Meanwhile, A Tech's Maker ability is simple, giving them the ability to fabricate, replicate, or fix anything. Keep in mind, I'm oversimplifying things, but these will explain Josue's general abilities and his capabilities. I hope.

With that, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

---

A man brought up a palm to his nose, stumbling out of an alleyway, snorting as a glob of blood fell on the floor while he groaned. "Ergh." He said in disgust, looking at the blood before shaking his head to get rid of the lingering dizziness as he spotted a set of stairs and stumbled towards them. With a sigh, he sat down on the stairs and brought out a handkerchief, cleaning up his right knuckle before moving to his nose.

His Biomonitor displayed its information on his right cybereye, Chyron displaying the results of his scan, his Skinwatch keeping time as he grunted. "Two days." He noted out loud, Chyron displaying his name on the report of his biometrics and general health.

Josue 'Tiger' Mondragon

Two days, nearly three, since his last gig in Night City. It has been two days since his final flourish against the cartel that killed his Nomad Family all those years ago because of his love for music. Well, there was also the rivalry they had with the Mongooses and the tech they stole from Arasaka, so maybe it was just a coincidence. Except he knew it wasn't.

His last gig was his and his ally's final attack against them, where he went in and killed the leader of the Calmecac and destroyed all operations within Night City and a few outside of it. He, a Nomad turned Tech with a love for music, managed to destroy a nearly century-old cartel. It was all so… absurd, in a way.

Regardless, he did what he had to, and he left. He got his revenge, and there wasn't anything left in Night City for him, so with a final flourish and concert while being chased by Arasaka forces, he left Night City proper.

Before promptly flashing away and appearing in an entirely new, but weirdly familiar, city. Or… at least that's what he thought; his memory was pretty fuzzy on that end, especially regarding time. He could feel the difference and called it the 'Lost Months'.

Not familiar as in recognizable, but that Lungmen was eerily similar to Night City, from all the neon lights, the large buildings, not to mention…

The sound of running footsteps made Josue sigh as he tucked the handkerchief into the pocket of his leather jacket, a light armorjack vest under it, and stood up, pulling the sleeves to the elbows, with a patch on the back of his jacket. The patch said 'Northern Tigers', denoting his Family before they all died. Even now, he wore it with pride in an entirely different world.

Correct. He was no longer in Night City on Earth; the evidence of such a thing appeared while Josue ran a diagnostic on his body.

His cyberlegs, which replaced both legs after Adam Smasher crushed them, are in good condition, reinforced to be unbreakable and with thickened myomar strands keeping them far stronger than normal. Same for his singular left cyberarm, outfitted with the same reinforced nature as his legs and the same strands that it's had since he found it in that fateful job all those years ago. His right arm's frame and Subdermal Grip were in good condition, with his cybereye still operational. His Skin Weave was fine at the moment, despite the nature of the residents of this place, whose voices made him turn.

Evidence one walked out, looking like an Exotic with cat ears before being followed by someone with dog ears as they looked around, "Where-! There you are, you-!" He didn't finish as Josue laid him out with one punch, using his right hand and a little bit too much force.

Back in Night City, when he was considered a Night City Legend before appearing in this new world, Josue was probably one of the strongest out there, capable of laying out even some of the most armored individuals with one punch with his meat arm. Even if it is outfitted with an internal frame for a certain weapon, it doesn't increase his strength, only dispersing the force and recoil of the weapon hidden in a shoulder holster under his jacket.

The man he punched tried to get up but was laid out again by a second before a third one finally knocked him out as he stepped back, arms up in a boxing stance, bobbing on the balls of his feet as he chuckled, "C'mon, wanna get back for your bitch of a leader?"

The Exotics glared as one of them spoke up, "You think you have any right to say that? You're a coward!"

"Wanna come closer?" Josue goaded, glancing around to ensure no one was going to blindside him, "I can show you how 'cowardly' I am directly." He said, raising his leg in the shin kick, he used to get the leader of these gangoons onto the floor and then beat him up with a few chairs in a bar he was playing at. Granted, they were harassing the lady serving drinks, so he thought the gangoon got off lightly.

His little gangoonlets didn't think so. "You coward!" One of them yelled as they tried to circle him as he lunged at them before stopping mid-lunge. The gangoon fell back as Josue burst into a bout of laughter, pointing at the cat Exotic as he leaned on his knees.

"Who's the coward now!?" Josue goaded as he hunched over, holding onto his knees while laughing uproariously. "You should've seen your face." He said while he straightened up and flinched, bringing both hands up, "Ah~! Hahaha!" He mocked, punctuating it with laughter as the gangoon's face flushed as he scrambled back to his feet.

"You won't be laughing once you're cut into pieces!" One of them yelled as they brandished knives, axes, and even a bow as Josue shook his head.

"Please." He said, reaching back and brandishing a bottle. "All I need is this bottle for you chumps."

"Give that back!" One of them yelled, dashing as Josue still couldn't believe how outclassed he'd have been once upon a time.

For a long while, Josue didn't like cyberware; he wasn't against it, he had a cybereye and his Interface Plugs after all, but he always prided himself on his skills and natural strength. Then Adam Smasher crushed his arm and legs, and a lot of things went out the window. He always tried to limit himself, relying more on his skill and strength for such things.

He leapt forward and stood on a hand, lashing his leg forward in a scorpion kick in a capoeira form. The axe-wielding exotic reeled before being swept off his feet by Josue's crouched form. Josue hopped up, spinning and landing a heel kick to the Exotic's chest, his cyberleg and his own strength causing them to cough as he spun off and backflipped onto his feet.

He was always a performer, even when he was a Nomad, going into dangerous areas for a copy of old music and playing it for his Family and whoever would pay him. It might have gotten him into trouble, but damn if he didn't love doing so. It was a good thing he learned capoeira, a dance-like style, but…

The other four gangoon surged forward, one of them let their arrow fly as it hit his shoulder, stabbing into the padded leather but not piercing. It was shot from a wooden bow with a wooden arrow; it's not very good, and the gangoon barely looked coherent enough to use it, probably boosted out of his mind at the moment. The other two didn't care; they just knew that he was shot with an arrow, and, usually, that hurts. A lot.

One of them swung a sword, and Josue stepped out of the way, using the base of the bottle to knock a second gangoon in the head before returning to the one who swung, shoving his shoulder against them before pushing them back. The third tried to swing at him, but he raised the bottle of alcohol in his hand the same way an exorcist would at a spirit or a Samurai fan their paraphernalia, warding off the spirit, women, and, in this case, the thug as he stops before he could break the bottle.

One of them circled their arm around Josue's neck, trying to choke him and stab him, while the first Exotic charged. Josue raised his legs, kicking with both feet at the first gangoon's chest and causing the one who was holding him to fall back as he rolled back and turned to the archer.

Ripping out the arrow from his jacket, he rolled, evading the next one and popping open the cork of the alcohol, before stabbing one of the gangoons in the stomach. He took a swig from the bottle, drinking some of it and keeping the rest in his mouth as he used his shoulder and his grip on the arrow stabbed into them, to maneuver his newest human- well, Exotic shield, and reached for his lighter.

His shield yelped as he used the bottle to knock him over the head, knocking them out while he let go of the arrow. Dashing the final stretch, he lit his lighter and spat out the alcohol in his mouth with the lighter in front of him. A burst of flames bloomed out and covered the archer, frantically trying to put it out as he turned to the others.

"A-Arts!" They yelled as Josue rolled his eyes, "Y-You-!"

He dashed once more, kicking the inside of their knee as they fell to the other before Josue sent a knee into their face, knocking them to the floor. Finally, he knocked out the last one with a swing of the bottle.

The archer in flames continued to yell as Josue went over and knocked them out, too, with a single well-placed punch to a pressure point. He nodded to himself, looking at the chaos he wrought as he got to his favorite part.

He patted down the archer, taking his arrows and his cash, Lungmen Dollars, or LMD, as he put them away, and moved to the others. Doing the same, he took all of their cash and sellable valuables as he slipped the cork of the alcohol he had after taking a drink.

It was pretty good, all things considered.

So, of course, it had to be ruined.

"LGD, get on the ground!" Someone yelled, drones lighting up his form, while Josue sighed as men and women moved. They pointed weapons at him as he put his arms up and followed the order of the lawman.

His hands were forced behind his back, forced on the pavement with the usual roughness he was used to back home, his cheek rubbing against the pavement. One of the officers placed a knee on his spine instead of ramming it, so it's somewhat better. He could feel their probing hand as they removed his weapons, the one in his shoulder holster confiscated, his belt unbuckled, removing it to show a knife and a revolver, a Colt 'Peacemaker' on it, before forcing his Fabrica De Armas M-2012 off his back.

Slowly, he was practically stripped as all the weapons he kept hidden were revealed and forced off him until he was forced to his feet to see who was arresting him this time.

As was usual in this world, she was beautiful, but unlike the first woman that arrested him, who was stern and unrelenting like a dragon, like the horns she had, or laidback but dangerous like the green-haired oni that arrested him on his second day, this tiger was beautiful, resembling a young lady of an Exec. She had a pair of tiger ears atop her head, one being hidden by a beret, her striped orange and black tail denoting it to be a tiger's, with her brown hair curled into a pair of drills, her green eyes lit up with pride and stern disapproval.

"So, you're the one causing the ruckus?" She noted while inspecting him.

"So, you must be the pussy bitch Ch'en talks about?" Josue asked, her eyes widening before they narrowed.

"That bitch!" She yelled as he internally laughed as he was forced to his feet and into a cruiser. The door closes as he's then driven to the LGD's office. At least the donuts are pretty good.

---

Josue Mondragon stared at the one-way glass, separating the officers from the interrogation room, looking at his reflection as he noted how bruised his face was.

He was Latino; as such, his features were Latino, light brown skin with wide brown eyes and short curly brown hair, EMP Threading reached from the corner of his eyes and met at the bridge of his nose as he looked at the handcuffs in his hands. He could easily break out, but it isn't the third day yet. They took away his vest and jacket, along with all his holsters, so his previous statement of being armed was now a lie as he sat in a white shirt and some jeans.

With a twist of his wrist, he checked his Skinwatch and nodded, deciding to wait and break his record of consecutive arrests with different officers. The last record was him being arrested twice in a row by different lawmen.

Slowly, he shifted his hand, revealing a paper clip, subtly unfurling it before huffing in amusement. This would probably be the last time, so he might as well be quick about it.

Meanwhile, Swire stomped through the office of the LGD, looking for the Chief as her ears and tail stuck out. When she found the room she was looking for, she burst in, "Ch'en, you bitch! What are you telling our suspects!?"

Inside, a woman with blue hair and horns atop her head peeked from behind her monitor, a derisive look on her face, "What are you talking about, Swire? Have the hardships of normal life finally gotten to your brain?"

"Afternoon, Missy." Hoshiguma, the green-haired oni, started acting as the mediator before it even started. "How was your patrol?"

"It was fine until the end." She grumbled, "A bar brawl that spilled out into an alley, someone was stabbed, the others have concussions, and they even used Arts, according to the one that woke up."

Ch'en and Hoshiguma paused as they looked up, "Arts?"

"Yeah, but he had some alcohol with him." Swire pointed out as she huffed, leaning beside Ch'en's desk. "I think he just spat some on them, and they didn't know alcohol was flammable."

"Huh," Hoshiguma said, something poking at the edge of her mind. "Is that it?"

"Well," Swire started, holding up a hand to her chin, "according to the officers, he kept complaining about the cruisers, calling them unwieldy hunks of junk, and his weapons were strange."

"Strange how?" Ch'en asked, a familiar feeling coursing through her as Swire continued.

"He had guns, but none of them had any Originium," Swire answered with a shrug, "we had one of our Sankta run a few tests on his revolver, and it wouldn't fire!" She said before rubbing her face, "Then, the other fired fine, but didn't leave any casings, and finally his last weapon smacked the Sankta in the face and sprained his wrist!"

Slowly, Ch'en's brows narrowed, and Hoshiguma chuckled as Swire tilted her head. "What's with those faces?"

"You-," Ch'en growled, getting to her feet and pointing at Hoshiguma. "Lock down everything! I don't want anyone leaving, even for their child's birth!"

"What!? Are you dumb?" Swire asked as Ch'en was already out of the office, and she followed despite being confused.

"Missy." Hoshiguma started, joining Swire, "The man you speak of has been arrested once for each day for the past two days, three now if you count today, and has escaped each time."

"Huh?" Swire asked, "That's impossible, my drone should be there in case he tries."

Hoshiguma shrugged, "Trust me, I'd know, he escaped mine and Ch'en's sights, we were the ones to arrest him the first two times, after all."

Swire blinked at that as Hoshiguma alerted the building, and she rushed into the room, just to make sure he was still there.

Ch'en was already there, tapping her forearms and huffing, while Swire noticed the officer who had been there previously wasn't there anymore. "You're here," Ch'en noted out loud while Swire noticed her drone still afloat. "I'll let you off with a warning this time since you didn't know, but look." She said, opening the door to the room as Swire peers in and pauses.

After all, the officer who was supposed to be on the other side of the one-way glass was unconscious, sitting in the chair Josue was supposed to be in, while Josue was nowhere to be found. "Hah?"

"Shit… C'mon, let's go to the evidence room and the garage." Ch'en said as Swire jerks up as she follows after Ch'en.

"I understand why he'd go to the evidence room," Swire started before asking, "but why the garage?" Various ideas went through her mind, none of them good.

"To modify them," Ch'en answered as Swire sent her an incredulous look. "Don't look at me like that. It's been two- no, three days since he's been brought in, and the cruisers he modified on that day still haven't been cleared for use again. None of the technicians can understand exactly what he did. Just that they're running smoother than before."

"Huh?" Swire asked while Ch'en grimaced.

"Get that stupid look off your face and call your drones already!" Ch'en yelled as she turned, "I'll head to the evidence room. He's probably already grabbed his weapons, but it'll let me circle into the garage. We'll encircle him, understand?"

"Right," Swire answered, the two separating as they made their way to their respective positions. Once there, Swire brandished her flail, her drones spreading out while her voice rang out. "Come out with your hands up, you're being arrested for tampering with government property, assault, and resisting arrest!"

"Hey, what are my rights!?" Someone yelled as Swire turned in the direction of one of the cruisers, and some of them had the hood open. "How do I know how I can fight these unlawful charges against me?"

Swire bristled before making her way over, "Just make your way out, and I can assure you, you'll be treated well."

"Fuck no!" He yelled, a certain amount of vitriol in his voice that even surprised Swire. "Last time I trusted someone who said that, I was beaten to an inch of my life." Despite the worrying words he said, Swire made her way through the garage and stood in front of the entrance to the building while her drones scanned the area.

She couldn't help but notice how dark the tints on the cruisers were, not that she didn't know they're usually pretty dark, but… they're way darker than before.

Then, a crack rang out, Swire recognizing the gunshot as the nearest car by her began to spew smoke in her direction as she leapt to the side. The smoke barely hit her as she brought a hand to her mouth.

The gunshot came from behind her as she turned, hearing the sound of footsteps as she got up. "Hey, stop right there!" She yelled while running, Josue peering out from a cruiser, a radio in hand, as he grinned.

"Well, there we go." He said, sitting back down inside the cruiser as he fiddled with the radio. Once he was done, the only thing the LGD would be able to hear if they tried to radio each other would be static. Satisfied, Josue exited the cruiser, closing the door as he opened the loading gate of his Peacemaker, removing the spent casing and loading another one before closing it. He made his way to the cruiser with the open hood while slipping the gun into its holster, closing it before making his way to the area where Swire ran out.

Since Ch'en was now on his trail, close shaves wouldn't cut it. He would either evade her completely or he would be found. So he had to leave then and there as he reached for his bag, stopping by a bathroom as he grabbed a pack of makeup and grabbed a uniform he swiped.

Not his biggest skill, admittedly, but hiding his notable EMP Threading was easy as he managed to make them disappear and made his skin tone lighter before slipping on some glasses. With that, he made his way out and headed towards the exit briskly, looking like a man with a bone to pick, so when Swire passed by, he performed a salute. "Miss Swire."

"At ease." She said, huffing, "I'm not Ch'en. Did you see anyone on your way here?"

"No." He continued, stiffly like an officer with a chip on his shoulder, "It's just been me, though…" he trailed off, embarrassed, "I might have had something bad for breakfast so..."

Swire nodded, "Then you're free to go to your station. Stop by the Medical Office for some stomach medicine. Ch'en wants everyone in their stations."

"Right. Thank you, Miss Swire." He said, walking off as Josue walked away, and Swire did the same, making his way to his 'position'.

He reached the reception's office, slipping off random clothes and slipping on others in the blind spots of the cameras until he resembled the civilian he was.

"You! What are you doing?" Someone asked, and Josue jumped, fidgeting.

"Er," he started, anxiously looking away as the officer seemed pissed, "I-I was here to pick something up that was stolen, and the officer leading me told me to come here."

"Detective, that's enough." One of the officers interjected, "Hoshiguma is calling you; he's a civilian, let him through."

The Detective paused before he relented with a nod. "Alright, you're right." He said before turning to Josue, while continuing. "Go ahead, or else you'll have to stay here longer."

"R-Right." Josue started, anxiously, as he made his way to the front desk and made his way out to freedom.

After cutting through the swath of Media, Josue slipped into an alley, removing the uniform before grinning. "Done." He said, looking at the things he reclaimed, as in all of his guns, his bag, the alcohol, and the knife, hidden under the uniform until he removed it. He changed into his normal uniform as he stretched.

Leather jacket back on with light armorjack vest, holsters in place, and assault rifle hidden and grenades in place, he slipped into the neon alleys of Lungmen, wondering what he'd do once he got home.

---

A/N: With that, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you'd like to read more, check this out if you're interested, which should offer links to my FF and AO3 to read the up-to-date Neon Knight, and to support me if you're interested.

Now, for some extra info:

Spoiler: Josue's Cyberware

Reinforced Cybereye(with Hardened Shielding on the right eye).

Internal Cyberdeck.

Skin Weave.

Synthskin*(Both arms, light up tattoos)

Skinwatch*

Reinforced Cyberarm(Left arm with Realskinn over Hardened Shielding and thickened myomar strands)

Reinforced Cyberlegs(Both with Realskinn over Hardened Shielding)

Internal linear frame(Right arm)

Subdermal Grip(Right hand)

Interface Plugs.

Enhanced Antibodies(Permanent, don't cause Humanity Loss)

*Fashionware doesn't cause Humanity Loss.

 

[501aris/N0ct15]

A/N: I'll try to keep these little notes short, don't really like making them long.

---

Ch'en sat on her desk, pinching the space between her brows, as, for the third time, Josue Mondragon evaded capture once more, which should be impossible. This is their home turf. How did he slip out unnoticed?

What was more is that one of their uniforms went missing, so how he escaped should be obvious, but on her count, no one was wearing it, but parts of it were thrown in trash cans heading to the front desk. Then there was the gunshot that Swire heard, the only one that he's ever shot, and the empty canister of some… smoke grenade, which is impossible. Ballistics, filled with Sankta experts, couldn't identify the weapon used, other than it couldn't be the assault rifle, nor could the core be Originium. The weapon that broke the wrist of the Sankta and smacked them in the face was immediately out of the question.

The only one who was using any form of Arts in that room was Swire.

That thought scared her. Shaking her head, she returned to the reports of the officers, as some things stood out. First was Swire's interaction with an officer who, in her words, 'resembled her in bearing, standing, and attitude' and a Detective's interaction with a civilian coming to 'pick up something', which is strange since nothing was cleared to be returned to anyone.

She palmed her face and groaned, "That fucking dumbass."

At least a part of the problem had been solved, and then came the next one. How? How was he able to fool Swire? Where did he get a gun? Where did he get good enough to walk out of the police stations he's being arrested in without raising an alarm? Especially since he didn't have any form of identification on him.

The questions continued to pile up, and the answers weren't getting smaller. She would have to put out a warrant for his arrest. With the marks on his face, he wasn't exactly the most subtle, and with this whole debacle, she'll need to. It shouldn't be too hard; it's one man.

---

The sound of Wu-Tang Clan rang out within a vehicle, an unfamiliar sound to many in Terra, but one Josue was intimately familiar with via his actions as a Rockerboy.

Slowly, Josue sat on his bed in the main area of the kombi, his mind supplying the various instruments within. He stood at the tail end of the kombi, a small section cut off to act as a small bathroom and shower behind where he stood, leaving around twenty-five feet of extra room, around the size of a school bus. To his immediate right, there was a small kitchenette with a stove and a fridge of a similar size beside it. Further down, there were more tables where a Terminal rested along with the Communications Center, monitors behind the main terminal showing various angles outside, if it was turned on, among other details. There was also a different terminal for the sleeping Agent. His eyes landed on the floor, where he could see small indents on the floor where one would reach down and use them to reveal the chairs along with the mounts on the side, further beside the terminal.

To his left, on the other hand, he could see a table pulled down, hanging off the wall, revealing a multitude of tools and a workbench with other distinct things, a 3D Printer being one of them, mostly for ammunition and the like, whether it be caseless or cartridges. Beside that was his electric guitar and another heavy weapon mount, the weapons themselves hidden inside cases. Then, there was the Zonda Parallax in the middle, glinting under the light of the kombi as he ran his hand over it. He remembered working hard to get it.

He shook the thought away while inspecting other things, like the gun locker by his bed, the various cases he could instinctively point out as heavy weapons he'd collected, and he could spot the Malorian he took from Adam, the event being filmed by a Media as Eran found out and offered to make him a weapon. Josue was never good at coming up with a weapon, so he opted to get the Malorian modified to fit him instead of Johnny Silverhand. Something Malour seemed a bit disappointed at, so he asked for a bow instead and for the gun to be modified.

Well, he got both, the compound bow made in space used less strength, made virtually no sound, and had the power to pierce most armor. The Malorian 'Flyswatter', christened as such when he used it to shoot down a fly by accident. Its actual name was the Vortex, but everyone called it the Flyswatter.

Regardless, it was hung up at the moment, probably the most expensive decoration and most combat-capable weapon he had, as he stepped back and looked around more. There was something else, an extra 'gift' from Malour, but he left it in its case since it's never been his style.

Regardless, a sense of pride bloomed from within as a Nomad from his collection of weapons. Especially when it came to opening the compartments hidden within to reveal the bevy of old weapons he's found over the years and bought, practically a small armory for a small army with the ammunition to match.

He sat down on the worktable and returned to maintaining his weapons as he was before lying down on the bed. It was a calming thing, but it did get bothersome on occasion. He had been in Lungmen for three days, had been arrested three times, had played in two bars, and had mugged at least ten different people who tried to fight him first.

It was similar to Night City; there was always someone looking for a fight, especially since he's on the outskirts. Unlike Night City, where the closer one got to the center, the higher someone's chance was to, well, die.

The outskirts of Lungmen were part of the slums; no one had the good sense to come out here, and those who lived within had the 'good sense' to stay there, since most of them were 'Infected', but some just didn't have the money or the papers to go in. As such, criminals tended to converge in the area, Josue being one such person, as the actual 'slums' looked actually livable, even for the Infected.

That said-.

He jumped, someone, slamming their fist against the side of the vehicle, supposedly camouflaged, as a voice continued, "Hey~. Tiger~."

With a frustrated groan, he made his way over and opened the door used for his heavy weapons to see the grinning mercenary otherwise known as 'W'. Beside her-. "God-. W! What'd I tell ya about bringing corpses?"

The 'corpse' groaned, and Josue sighed, "I'm not a doctor, go to a hospital or something." He said, despite reaching inside for a bag full of medical supplies as he hopped down. Reaching under the kombi, he brought out a table. "Lay him on it." He ordered as she hummed.

"You say that, but you're always so willing." She noted, doing as he said while he glared at her. Her short gray hair swayed, and her red eyes glinted in amusement with the grenade launcher behind her and the gun behind her.

"I'm serious, W, I genuinely won't be able to treat anyone else like this any time soon." He said, pointing at the gashes on the man, looking like a sword made them, slipping out the Medscanner, and scanning the man.

"Well, what're you doing with the money I give you then?" She asked as he injected an anesthetic into the horned mercenary. She grinned, keeping her distance, "Let me guess, you've been visiting one of the bordellos?"

"I can't." Josue reminded her as he spread his hand at the abandoned warehouse where his kombi is located. "Forget an anesthetic, I won't be able to get alcohol to substitute as an anesthetic without an identity. As far as anyone in Lungmen cares, I'm an immigrant, and stealing from a hospital is a good way to get everyone and their mother on your ass." He pointed out, using scissors to cut off the mercenary's clothes. Opening it to see his injuries. "Clean, whoever did this was looking to kill and knew how. Good thing too."

While he slipped some surgical gloves and a mask, Josue began recalling his brief stint as a Paramedic, where, for some fucking reason, he was the only one who knew how to use most of the equipment within an ambulance. Most, not all, that came later with experience and actual Medtechs explaining things to him.

Regardless, he got to work, stitching injuries, monitoring their vitals, and making sure the patient was fine as he did so.

Soon, he was done, removing the gloves and throwing them in a biohazard can he keeps in case something like this happens. "He'll live." He said, bandaging the injuries as he adds, "He'll need time to recuperate the blood he lost-."

"Blah, blah, blah." W interrupted, "He's a Sarkaz-."

"And he'll die if he doesn't rest." Josue reminded her as he leaned against the opening of the kombi. "Look, W, you know I'm not the man for this. With how much you pay me, you can get anyone to patch your men up with better proficiency than I can. Go to them, private or not, anyone is better than I am."

W's eyes widened, slowly looking at him before bringing up a hand to her mouth and giggling, "Wow, I didn't know you were this naive."

Josue rolled his eyes and retorted, "And this naive dumbass is the only reason you and four other people aren't six feet under."

It was a whim, a feeling of wanting to help, that made him move to assist W, which ended up in their little situation, or the beginnings of one. Despite it being three days, W had seen him each day, the first when she woke up from her injuries, the second when she came to pay him, and today. Already, he's kind of regretting it.

"Yeah, yeah." She said, flashing a bundle of LMD at him. "Here. Your payment."

He grabbed the bundle and counted it before nodding. "Yup, all here. That's it, or are you looking for something else?"

"What are you, a merchant?" She asked, and Josue shrugged.

"Maybe. Depends on how I'm feeling." He responded, leaning against the opening of the vehicle. "So, what do you need?"

"Well~, if you're offering." She trailed off as she leaned in, trying to look into his kombi, only for a spark to remind her what happened last time she tried to pick her way into the kombi. "Got any explosives?"

"EMP, mines, grenades, flashbangs, smoke grenades," he listed off, turning back and showing them in his hands, "what do you need?"

Before she could answer, something hit the outside of the kombi as he cursed. "Fuck, W!"

"I thought we lost them, oh well~." She said, eyeing his explosives, almost excited. "Seems like we'll have to fight~."

"Yeah, no." He said, grabbing the mercenary and placing him inside away from the ensuing firefight, opening one of the compartments, and bringing out a Nomad 7.62 Bolt-Action rifle reminiscent of a Winchester M70. Pulling the bolt, he saw it was loaded before closing it. Grabbing some magazines, he closes the door behind him. W was beside him as she revealed an M4 rifle; she aimed and fired in bursts at the darkness.

Everything disappeared as he looked for a target, finding them and taking a deep breath as they stepped out, the crosshairs of the scope on his chest before it climbed up slightly.

The location of the warehouse he was in left a lot of buildings open to take potshots at him; it's an abandoned manufacturing plant with buildings around that allow a direct view of his warehouse. For some, being in such an area would be a horrible idea if the warehouse had any more holes. For Josue? Who's prone under his kombi with a sniper rifle and with only one way to enter or shoot in from?

A Solo he knew put it best, 'We're not surrounded, but in a target-rich environment'.

With the pull of a trigger, the man's head burst as he fell. Cycling the bolt, Josuee moved to the next target, looking through the roofs and the windows as the ones charging at him on foot paused. Josue let the bubble pop as he released a breath, and heard W laugh. "Nice shot, Tiger!"

"Thanks, your aim is shit," Josue noted as a spray of ammunition forced the rival mercenaries behind cover. He spotted another sniper and swerved and fired, their head bursting and falling. "So, who are they?"

"Well~," W started, no longer firing, the sound of a magazine being replaced ringing out, "they probably didn't appreciate their warehouse of contraband being blown up."

"I wouldn't either." He added, while the buttstock of the sniper rifle hit his shoulder and took out another sniper. "I don't see any more snipers."

"I think you took them out," W noted as she stepped forward. "I think they ran."

"They'll be back…" Josue trailed off as he removed the magazine, placing another one in and opening the kombi. "Fucking 'ell, shit's been stuffed." He grumbled, sitting at the entrance.

"Those were some good shots," W noted, same grin in place. "Good gun too, you take it off someone from Laterano?"

Laterano? "I'll leave that to your imagination." He answered, his cybereye flashing blue as it scanned the area and rested the rifle over his shoulder. "What now, because I'm not gonna lie, we have someone who's injured," he started, pointing to the man on his back, "you, and me. And I'm not sure that's enough to hold them off."

"Then, we won't," W said, as Josue turned to her in confusion. "We didn't just walk over here." She responded, extending her hand and waving them inward. Josue does so, gently picking the injured man up and depositing her in W's arms as she makes sure he's not gonna drop him. "We've got a ride. Don't worry," she said, winking at him, to his frustration, "this won't be the only time we see each other." She 'assured' him as she ran off, disappearing for a few seconds as Josue sighed.

After all, the people who attacked W were still there; they might think she's still there, so he needs to make his way around. He only had one other mode of transportation, though.

He glanced at his Parallax and sighed while replacing his Peacemaker with an M1911. It had been a while since he went on a joyride. With that thought, he got on it and revs the engine, the familiar hum of the engine calming him as it usually did.

The door opened thanks to Tlaloc, the Agent, suggesting a route as he decides to take it, after all, he'd been confined to a certain part of Lungmen due to his nature, despite being somewhat of a Rockerboy.

So, with a twist, the motorcycle flew out into the open, practically purring at a sedate pace of around fifty miles per hour, even if everything in Josue wanted to gun it to its complete three hundred miles per hour.

He weaved in and out of obstacles, slowing down to hear the enemies begin to try and get him as they call it in. To goad them, he aimed his M1911 back and fired, missing purposely as he tried to catch the casings, occasionally failing and occasionally successful as he drove off.

He could hear the hum of the cars driving after him as he waited for them to get closer before increasing the speed. Always right in front of them, never letting them catch him, not like they could.

Josue swerved into the main road of the city, taking in the sights of the neon city, not Night City, but its splendor far more… vicious, in a way. Night City is, at all times, radioactive, whereas in Lungmen, there's a chance you'll become infected and lose it all. Not to mention everything happening that Josue simply doesn't know.

Still, if he ever felt like it, he could just take to the Open Road, it's in his blood after all. For now? He'll just find out what this city has and enjoy it.

An arrow nearly hit him as Josue aimed and fired at the tires of the vehicle, their tires popping as they swerved to the side, and he cackled. A good ride always left him in a good mood, and W was a tiring woman to talk with on the best of days.

He continued looking around, enjoying the sights on a soft ride, something that the vehicles of Terra, as he's been told it's called, probably don't agree with. He could see the various buildings of Lungmen, the various places he could get in trouble with, and so much more.

He glanced back, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight behind him.

"This is the Lungmen Guard Department, pull over!" Someone in a cruiser yelled as someone on a motorcycle began closing the distance between them.

"Josue." Hoshiguma started as Josue nodded in a greeting.

"Hoshiguma, right? Good to see you again." Josue answered while leaning forward, forearms on the handles of his bike.

"The feeling is mutual, but I don't think Missy or Ch'en feels the same." Hoshiguma pointed out as Josue shrugged. "So, it'd be good if you could pull over."

"And what, get arrested?" He asked in disbelief. "I'm fine. Even if you did, I'd just come back in a few days after being exiled or whatever."

"Yeah," Hoshiguma admitted, "But Ch'en hasn't gotten a good night of sleep, and now Missy is looking to catch you."

"Really?" He asked, whistling, "Two beautiful women coming after me constantly? Sign me up." He said, revving the motorcycle.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Hoshiguma warned, patting her bike, "She can go pretty fast."

"That a challenge?" Josue asked, and Hoshiguma shook her head.

"More of a warning." She warned him as Josue shook his head.

Perfect.

While he chuckled inwardly, he began to speed up as Hoshiguma followed. The speedometer began to climb on both of the dashboards of their bikes, eighty, ninety, one hundred, as Hoshiguma followed easily. There was a slight smirk on her face as she chased after him.

It continued to climb, one hundred and ten, a hundred and twenty, a hundred and thirty. Hoshiguma was beginning to have trouble as the speedometer only continued to climb as he looked ahead.

One-forty.

One-fifty.

One-sixty.

One-eighty.

Two-hundred.

Hoshiguma desperately tried to stop him as the speedometer could go further, and Josue's blood was boiling for release.

So, he revved it, the speedometer climbing as he weaved in and out of traffic, the surroundings blurring as he pushed the bike to its utmost limit, and it purred in return. Almost as if it wished for him to go faster, to find that ceiling, break it, and continue going.

But fun couldn't last forever. He began to slow down, already having escaped the people after W and the Lungmen Guard Department. Slowly, he began to take in the cityscape once more at a more idle pace, driving through it as he spotted something he found interesting.

It was a scrapyard, it's fairly well-hidden too, and it's got a few cars he could see; some of them were in fairly good condition, but his interest was elsewhere. Mostly, the singular light turned on in the building as Josue led his motorcycle and turned it off, humming as he read the name. 'Scrappy's Scrap Yard'.

It was full of a bunch of interesting things, vehicles, and other appliances, while he made his way inside the gate. He ran a hand over the frame of the car, opening the hood as he noted that parts of the engine were missing, making it inoperable, but not incapable of being repaired. Closing it, he inspected inside the car and couldn't help the Nomad in him scoffing at how many good parts the Statics were wasting.

Still, he circled the car and began to realize something. He made his way to the hood and opened it again.

He could work with this. Yeah… Yeah!

Everything would have to be handmade, but Josue was a Tech for a reason. Making an engine from scratch was going to be easy, and if he could make a few rooftop gardens…

The ideas were spinning as he grinned.

Well, that was until someone put a sword to his spine. "Don't move."

Josue glanced at the glass of the windshield, spotting an old bull, a tall man with narrowed green eyes and graying hair, aging as he pointed a long sword at Josue's spine. A… Forte, if he remembered right.

Josue slowly put his hands up and asked, "So, you're Scrappy?"

The man didn't answer for a second before doing so, "Scarp. Scrappy isn't around anymore." He hissed as he lowered the sword. "So, are you looking to buy or sell?"

Slowly, Josue turned, watching the Forte in a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt, putting away the blade with ease. "Well, buy, mostly." Josue answered, looking at the car, "Though, I was wondering if we could talk inside, or wherever you'd like." He started, Josue's eyes almost glinting innocently in the night, as Scarp paused while looking at Josue for a long, long moment.

The silence stretched to uncomfortable lengths until, as Josue was about to break it, the man spoke. "Come, do you like tea or coffee?" He asked, turning and leading Josue while he thought about his answer.

"I'll have whatever you're having." He answered as Scarp nodded, leading him to the small building as he opened his home to Josue.

---

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Check this out for more things, if you're interested.

 

[501aris/N0ct15]

A loud slurp rang out. Scarp ignored it while Josue paused, drinking at a more sedate and quieter pace before sighing, steam coming from his mouth and coalescing in the air before disappearing. He didn't answer for a long second, taking another sip as he seemed to practically meld with the couch he's on, to Scarp's vague confusion. The tea is supposed to make people more alert, which is something Josue has experience with, realizing that it usually does the opposite for him.

Still, Josue was at his best when relaxed, so he placed the cup on the coffee table and laid down his cards. "I wanna work as a mechanic for you and use some of the scrapped parts to make a car and its parts." He answered bluntly as the man paused, before looking at him.

"… That's all?"

"Well, beyond all the laws I might be breaking." Josue admitted honestly before nodding, "Yeah." He said as Scarp looked at him and realized something.

He was being honest. That… That was it?

Josue tilted his head, "Not to mention other… things I might need to… sell." He trailed off, unsure of what to do next despite his previous dealings. After all, if he was relaxed, he defaults to his usual personality, which is a lot more awkward than one would believe and a lot rougher, too.

Scarp looked at him, bringing a hand to his chin as he hummed. "Is that it?" He asked as Josue gave him a confused look. "You know…" He trailed off, a fond smile on his face, "I…" he trailed off, glancing to the side where he could spot a picture frame, showing him and someone else as he smiled. "I don't think I'd mind."

"Even…" He trailed off, "all the shady shit?"

"Yes." Scarp confirmed before bringing up a hand, "You know how I run this place, right?"

"Yeah." Josue answered, "It's a scrap yard, people bring in scrap, and you pay them, or they come to pick up scrap, and they pay you."

Scarp nodded, "You saw some of the buildings around here, correct? I own them and some other places around town, which means I know quite a few things." He answered as Josue nodded. "So, a small distance away, connected to this property, there's an auto shop you can set up in the morning. There are also a few… additions as well." He added as he stood up. "For now," he started, making his way up the stairs, "a new day will begin anew tomorrow. I'll have something for you then."

Josue watched him go and nodded, mostly to himself, as he looked at the couch and made himself comfortable on it. He can always go for his kombi later.

Now, Josue had a new opportunity, something to start anew, maybe this time, it'll go better than before. Still, he knows himself better than most, so he'll be fine until he's six feet under or decides to leave it all behind.

Well, whatever. He had a job to do now, and he needed sleep for it. So, with a tap from his Agent, Tlaloc drove the kombi and made his way through the outskirts to his location. Slowly, sleep comes easily as he lets it all pass by him.

---

Once more, Wei Yenwu was reading through a report, one submitted by the LGD, especially in one particular part. The vehicles. In his office, he brought older reports from the past three days, this time, from a team of mechanics and engineers.

Each one of them said many things, but it could all be summarized into one idea. The efficiency of the various systems of the cars was far more efficient after 'Josue' touched them with the skill that only experienced mechanics have. There was also his skill in general, skills you can't get being a soldier, varied skills usually needed in war zones.

Despite that, at no time had he ever displayed a racial feature. He acted differently, talked differently, and did things differently with different weapons, weapons that they've never been able to study correctly since he always escapes before he, or anyone else, can get hold of them.

If anything, there were a few curiosities that made him think. For one, he seemed to have a very charismatic bearing, but rarely used it, and from the fights he's seen, he tends to favor his right arm or his legs in the style he uses.

But Wei hadn't met him, and that's what has him hesitating for the first time. Because, for the first time, a piece fell onto the board, and he had no idea what to do about it. Investigating it would be best, but he's been elusive, as if he knows he's being watched. He's curious, but pushing too hard might push him away from the city, whether that's good or not is still up for debate.

For now, he'll wait, watching the world pass by and his own home along with Lungmen.

---

Like usual, Scarp's contacts came through, setting up Josue with identification as well as some things to test out his mettle and technological mastery. A few people around the block and the general area who need an appliance repaired or maintained, nothing too complicated.

He felt like he was back in his youth again, causing possible trouble, planning trouble with his friend… A friend he will never see again.

Scarp reached for a book, fixed his glasses as he read through it, philosophy, as he amused himself with it, until the feeling of guilt dissipates. Oh, how similar those two are. Shorter than he is, just as capable, and just as honest.

It was like a blast from the past as he looked to the ceiling. Many changes are going to happen, and he's going to be right in the middle of it.

A small smile lit up his soul.

How fun.

---

The next morning, Josue woke up in some shorts and a sleeveless shirt, yawning as his back popped and he listened to the sound of bachata as he could hear someone hum to the music he picked up a few days ago. Yawning, he sat up, bringing a hand and rubbing his eyes as someone placed a plate in front of him.

Instead of the woman he was expecting, he saw a Forte place it in front of him, some orange juice to the side as he joined him with his plate, to Josue's confusion. After all, chicken eggs and ham were generally luxury goods in Night Ci…

He wasn't in Night City anymore. He wasn't in the Open Road, where his mother was making him some eggs and ham in secret since it would get her in trouble with the Family. He wasn't in the Open Road of the NUSA, where one of the older members taught him how to make a mean brisket.

He wasn't in the Open Road, where things like these were open secrets, usually digging into the funds from the Family as a consequence. The Head of the Family, one of the members of the band Los Tigres Del Norte, at most kept up the illusion that he was keeping an eye out for their economic well-being and not doing the same thing on occasion.

Construction, which was their main job besides smuggling and escorting, took up a lot of energy.

Josue shook his head and grabbed a fork, pointing at the egg, "Is… it fine?"

"Yes," Scarp confirmed, digging into his food. "You do not seem like you've been eating well."

As a Nomad who sometimes worked with cattle, Josue was used to a lot more actual food rather than cloned or kibble. Night City reversed that simply because of how expensive genuine food was. As such, he got into the habit of not eating much; maybe it was him being spoiled, or the sheer difference between food, but…

He shook his head and grabbed a fork, popping the yolk of the egg as he cut off a part and stabbed a piece of ham before doing the same with the egg and eating it.

Josue knew it, knew the feeling of tears running down his cheek. He was simply grateful Scarp didn't comment on it, as the taste of his mother's cooking, of her exhausted look, unskilled hands in machinery, her deft hands in accounting, and observant eyes all landed on him.

For the first time, it hit him. Not just the realization, but it settled in.

He'll never see them again.

Not his Family, not his fellow Edgerunners, or the ones he liked anyway, nothing. He's good, but he doubts he can make a vehicle capable of crossing dimensions. Even if he could…

Would he want to?

Once more, he was a teenager, crying as his family died around him. Still, he continued to eat; it wasn't his mother cooking, but…

"… It's good." He managed through bites as he tried to keep his tears from landing on the ham and egg.

It was.

He wanted to curl up, but something else in him felt… liberated as he took a sip from his cup and began to wonder…

Why?

Why him?

Why was he here?

Sure, he was a Night City Legend, nearly had his drink become an order in the Afterlife a few times, but what makes him special?

Was it the machine he maintained when he first got here? The generator he fixed up that his Family stole from Arasaka all those years ago? It has to be, but he's seen the reports; anyone who tried didn't come back without becoming spaghetti, with the tomato sauce too. So, again, why?

"Hey, Scarp," Josue started, swallowing his food as he grabbed a napkin and blew his nose, clearing up his nose and voice, "mind if I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead." Scarp let him while he read the newspaper.

"Do you believe in fate?" Josue asked.

"I believe that there are choices to make, and the choices must be made." Scarp said, looking through his newspaper as if philosophical conversations were the norm, "Some might say that they are 'fated' for greatness or similar, and maybe they are." He noted, "But those who can look at atrocities and call it 'fate' look only for an escape. Maybe it's all predetermined, or maybe we're truly free. Maybe we're meant to be in groups, or maybe we're supposed to find our way through life alone. In the end, they are choices we make; to act otherwise is an insult."

There was a beat of silence as Scarp looked at Josue, "So, let me ask you this: do you believe in fate?"

For a second, Josue didn't say anything, eating steadily before taking a drink from his orange juice, "… No." He answered, he's a Nomad, after all. He chose what car he used, he chose where to go, he chose where to stay, he chose what to do, and who to kill; all of these are his choices. "I believe there's an Open Road, and I'm looking to go through it."

Scarp didn't answer, instead smiling softly. "Good." He said, "Once you're done, I'll show you around."

"M'kay." He answered, eating his fill.

Soon, the two made their way outside to the auto shop. "Here is where you will be working." He presents, revealing the large open area, various tools in various states of decay and disrepair, but still in working condition, before walking to the side. A set of stairs led upstairs to the second floor. Josue looked around, his head turning as he continued, "If you need anything else, tell me, but I think you'll find everything satisfactory here."

"Yeah…" He said, nodding as the two made their way to the top of the auto shop. Leaning on the railing, he looked over the floor, grinning. "I think I can make this work."

Josue nodded to himself, ready for whatever the world had in store.

---

A/N: Hello people, with this, Neon Knight's first chapter is over... here anyway. I hope all of you enjoyed it so far. I might not be uploading the first section of the next chapter tomorrow, might upload some smut instead, who knows. Anyway, if you have anything to say, I'd like to hear it, even if it's just that you enjoyed this first chapter.

Remember that I write in other places like AO3 and FF, where there are more chapters uploaded. If you're interested, check this out. Until then, Solar out.

 

[501aris/N0ct15]

A/N: Hello people, I'm back. Here's the chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

Musical Leitmotif: Welcome to Los Santos

---

As one would expect, the moment Josue got an identity and a solid address to live in, the police were on his ass faster than the IRS. It… was impressive, admittedly, and it means that they at least cared more than normal. Bad news: the police were at his door.

The good news is that no one looks at the roof. Or roofs from other buildings as he looks at the list of people who need the help of… someone. He knew why they needed him. According to Scarp, they needed appliances fixed and didn't have the money to hire someone reliable. So, he now has to blindly make his way through it just like he did back when he was in his Family. Unlike then, he doesn't have an unreliable uncle to teach him the ropes or throw random problems his way with little explanation.

So, with an M1911 on his hip, M-2012 on his back, and Malorian on his shoulder, Josue made his way down the list.

---

Ch'en stared down the old Forte as he sipped his tea. "Mr.-."

"Scarp," he interjected politely, Ch'en's brow twitching as she hissed. "We have a warrant for Josue 'Tiger' Mondragon's arrest. If you impede that process, we have every right to arrest you."

"What makes you think I'm lying?" Scarp asked, his green eyes looking at her as if they were the picture of innocence. "I'm simply an old man managing his business in the corpse of a long-forgotten dream. At no time did I spot anyone named 'Josue' or 'Tiger' in here." He looked behind her to see Swire. "I can see a tiger. That's about it."

Ch'en had to stop herself from sniping at Swire since they were on official business, in front of a 'civilian' they knew when they were younger who was once attached to a certain rat she knew. "Regardless, we have evidence that Josue is in this building, or that you at least know where he is."

"Show it then." Scarp challenged them with a calm demeanor, bereft of the stereotypical image of a Forte, but one Ch'en is more familiar with. "Because then I feel like we'd have another problem because I was asleep all night, and if someone stepped out of this building looking like me? Well, I'd believe you're too obsessed with horror stories." He joked as Swire scoffed, also having to stop herself from sniping at Ch'en.

Thankfully, someone did interject before anyone said anything else: "Well, here I was, hoping I could get some parts for my bike." Hoshiguma noted, to Swire and Ch'en's confusion. Scarp raised his brow, recognizing the Oni for who she was, but not pointing her out.

"It's a scrapyard." Scarp pointed out, "Once upon a time, someone would be in the auto shop, using this crap, melting it down and turning it into something else. But he's not here anymore, so most of what's here isn't worth anything and will only worsen whatever you have."

"So…" Hoshiguma trailed off as Scarp raised a brow.

"I run a business, as long as you tell me what and pay, anything more is beyond my scope of understanding or care." He waved her off while Hoshiguma nodded with a small smile.

"Of course, thank you, Scarp," Hoshiguma said before she made her way outside. Ch'en and Swire followed her.

"Hoshiguma, what are you doing?" Ch'en asked, confused and a bit frustrated, while her partner looked through the various rusted or broken down vehicles and scrap within the yard. "We're on the clock."

"I know, I know." Hoshiguma assured Ch'en, "But if he was hiding Josue, Scarp, and many others won't say anything to the Guard Department. It's how it is around here. You know this." Hoshiguma noted, her eyes catching something as she crouched down. "We can find evidence, though." Hoshiguma said, dragging a finger over vague marks, "These look like the marks left by his bike."

"So he's sheltering him?" Swire pointed out.

"Or he's here, and Scarp doesn't know." Ch'en grimaced lightly, "And we can't exactly perform an inspection without a warrant."

"Which is gonna be hard." Hoshiguma pointed out. "Scarp is the private type, he'll let people see but never do more than that."

"Damn." Ch'en cursed with a grimace before sighing. "Nothing we can do about it, let's go home, set up some surveillance, and then-."

"What are these tracks?" Swire asked, pointing at the floor away from the area in front of the auto shop. "They don't look like any of the tracks of any of the cars here."

"No. Heavier." Hoshiguma noted. "Looks like a… semi-truck?" She said, a bit surprised, before leaning slightly and trying to get a good look inside the closed gates of the auto shop. "Can't see anything though."

"So he has a different vehicle," Ch'en noted, frowning, if he had a motorcycle that could outspeed Hoshiguma's, who knows what else he had? "What is he planning?"

Ch'en has met many people, but Josue's countenance was always one of calm amusement as if it's all expected and he's just laughing inwardly. However, his eyes always seemed to look straight through her, as if he were sizing her up before returning to being relaxed.

Maybe it was experience or the various times he escaped, but Ch'en felt that, under the relaxed stance, something was waiting to attack. Something that wouldn't hesitate to attack.

What could a person as dangerous as that be doing at the moment?

---

"Right, yeah, like that," Josue said, bobbing his head at the young man in front of him using sticks to hit his drum set, a steady rhythm as Josue bobbed his head. "That's a good rhythm. Preem."

"'Preem'?" Oscar asked, raising a brow, "The hell is that?"

"Premium." Josue elaborated, his hands deep in the guts of the machinery found inside an oven within Terra, belonging to the third person he was supposed to help, as their son let him in.

Oscar, a young Lupo with a father who worked in an office, and a mother who worked as a nurse, has black hair cut short and blue eyes, a small scar on one of his ears, while wearing a sweater over a black shirt, and ripped jeans. He's a smart kid with a rough tongue and a love for his drum set. If he weren't part of the slums, he might have been capable of enrolling in a pretty good school, but 'pretty good' doesn't justify offering scholarships to a kid from an area where Infected are seen.

"Thanks." He said, "Your advice was useful, old timer."

"Watch it." Josue warned, pointing a finger at him while he peered out of the oven, "I'm not much older than you are. You'll be an old timer too before you know it."

The Lupo rolled his blue eyes as he looked at his drum set. "You play an instrument?"

"Electric guitar, violin, harmonica, piano," he listed, "but why?"

"You…" he trailed off, almost anxiously, "you wouldn't happen to need a drummer, would you?"

"I don't play in nice places." Josue admitted, "Bars, and the like, or much at all, you still sure?"

"Yeah." He said confidently. "I-I need to start somewhere." He answered while Josue huffed, a bit of amusement in his voice, as he closed the oven.

"If you can find somewhere to play," he started, leaving a small paper on the table, "call me. We can practice there."

"Right," Oscar said, and Josue waved while going to the door.

"Your oven's done, see ya later." He said, finishing up his last errand for the day as he had nothing else to do, other than… well, not much, admittedly.

He moved through the apartments, which were maintained but not exactly to the best standard, similar to the Megabuildings constructed back in Night City. He should look for some bars, somewhere to perform, and make some cash on the side.

He walked through the roads of the border between the slums and the middle-class area of Lungmen. Unlike the rest of Lungmen, it was far calmer, more of an area for people to live in rather than the business-centered city it is. Each step left him to his thoughts as he brought a hand to his chin. He, admittedly, doesn't know much, so maybe he should check out the library. It'd be useful, if anything else, to learn the history of Terra in its entirety.

"Damn it." Someone grumbled inside an alley, to Josue's vague interest as he looked inside. Within the passage, a suited man inspected the engine of a car, the other scanned the area, his eyes landing on Josue, where they narrowed in suspicion.

Well, they locked eyes, so now Josue can't be an asshole and just walk away. "… Need some help?"

"N-No." The man said, extracting his hands from the engine to wipe the sweat off his forehead, "I-It's fine, just-."

"I think you rigged it to explode by accident," Josue noted, to the man's shock as he leaped away from the car.

"N-No way!" He squeaked out loud, the Perro paling visibly as his partner, a Zalak, edged away as Josue inspected the engine.

"Well, explosive in that the Originium you're using as fuel would spark and burst from within," he pointed out, inspecting the engine for a while longer, "which would mess up the AC that's still running inside and probably worsen the day of whoever's inside." He noted while he patted the car, "Hey, turn that off! I don't wanna lose a finger doing this."

There was no answer until the Perro moved, opening the door and ending the humming of the car, and Josue leaned on the hood. "Thank you." He thanked the man, after all, Josue realized what he had just done.

In Night City and the NUSA proper, there are three types of people you don't fuck with unless you have a good reason and a fully-armed team or a perfect plan. These are Fixers, Corpos, and Nomads.

At this exact moment, Josue is dealing with a-no, if the stares aimed at his back are any evidence, THE Fixer of either the area or all of Lungmen. Because he could feel it, eyes on his back as he looked at the engine and even more ahead.

Would he do it again even if he knew this beforehand? Yeah.

Inspecting the car further, he began to note a few things: "How old is this thing?" He asked while the Perro turned to him.

"We've had it for a year." The man said as Josue turned to them, face twisted in confusion.

"Who's been modifying this shitbox?" He asked, almost in disbelief. "Half of the parts don't even fit in a car like this. Hell, I think they welded some of the parts together." He noted, reaching in and wiggling a part as he could see some cables were cut. "Fuck, no wonder, didn't even tape it right." He noted, reaching for his bag and grabbing some tools, "He cut off some wires, probably looking to redirect energy to more necessary systems, but the wires are still connected, so the sparks are messing with it, headlights probably aren't as strong as before, going over speed bumps is probably a nightmare since the shocks aren't working right…" He trailed off, muttering as he found more and more problems.

"… If you can identify them, can you fix them?" The Perro asked as Josue raised a brow.

"I can perform maintenance, jury-rig a few things, and get it up and running how it should, but the guy who maintained this car needs to be replaced. I'd suggest either selling it for scrap or sending it back to the manufacturer, telling them to give you a new one." He admitted honestly. "But right now? No."

"That's fine." The Zalak interjected, "Just get it in working condition."

"Sure, but you'll have to pay." He said, returning to the car as he ignored any other words, and returned to his usual work. As usual, it was the simple thing of identifying parts of a car and connecting them in his mind, using his knowledge of Science, Tech, and more to connect the rest of the pieces.

The whole process took all of one hour, as he had to move around a bit as he shimmied out from under the car. "Right, go ahead, let's see if it works."

The Perro inserted the key and turned it, the car sputtered for a long while until the gentle hum of the engine came to life. "There it is."

The Zalak sighed, "Thank you, sir, we truly appreciate this."

"Hey, no problem, like I said, as long as you pay, it'll all be fine." Josue reminded them as the Zalak nodded before turning to the vehicle.

For a second, no one said anything before turning to Josue, "Please," he began, opening the door, his expression now blank and intense, "enter."

Josue hesitated for a second before doing so. After all, he does need a source of income besides his small gigs, even if he has no problem doing it for free on occasion, but that's not important. The stares on him were back; it'd be stupid beyond all belief to refuse.

Slowly, Josue made his way into the car, and he found himself face-to-face with a rat.

An honest-to-goodness rat wearing a suit and a nice white coat over it. "Nice coat." He pointed out, getting comfortable as the Zalak chuckles.

"Thank you, yours isn't too bad either." The rat acknowledged before continuing, "Where are my manners? Forgive me, my memory isn't what it used to be, Josue, my name escapes me at the moment."

"Yet, you know mine." Josue noted with a roll of his eyes, "If I wanted to enter a dick-measuring contest, I'd have become a politician or Exec. Sadly, I'm a Tech, a Nomad." Josue said bluntly, "I have very few skills normal people would be interested in, much less aware of."

There was a second as the Zalak and Josue stared each other down, neither side saying anything as the car smoothly continued on its way until the Zalak's face fell, to Josue's confusion. "Kids these days can't even let us old timers have our fun." He said, Josue, muffling a scoff at that while relaxing slightly. "Fine, within Lungmen, I'm known as the Rat King. Please, refer to me as such."

"Tiger." Josue responded, extending a hand, "Nomad, Tech, and merc. Do you need something that has to do with tech or vehicles? I'm your guy." He said, the Rat King extending his hand and grasping it around Josue's, tightening it as the two shook.

"Well met." The man, or rat, said while leaning back against the seat. "Scarp has informed me of your circumstances." He said, leaning on his cane, his eyes glinting. "It seems like you have gotten into a bit of trouble with the LGD."

Josue raised both hands, "It wasn't my fault." He said before shrugging, "Mostly."

The Rat King chuckled, leaning forward, "W also had a lot of good things to say about you." Josue's expression shifted into one of distaste as the Rat King raised a brow, "Not a fan of the Sarkaz?"

"More of W herself." He scoffed, leaning back, "Why? I work with tech, not people. Sure, I can patch people up and even help them, but if you are injured, take them to a clinic or something! It's the fucking principle!" Josue ranted before huffing. "No, nothing against Sarkaz, just W being stubborn for some reason."

The Rat King huffed, "That is what most people think of when they meet her. She also had a lot to say about your weapons."

Josue didn't answer for a second, their eyes locking as the Rat King had to hide the instinctive twitch of his hands at the malice and suspicion being sent his way from his look alone. His eyes were empty. Josue knew that if he drew his weapon to 'silence' him, he might not come out alive. Despite this, the Rat King can see him resolve himself.

"W," he started, cautiously, "is a merc. Her word is as good as the money given to her, but so are the consequences," he said, drawing the gun at his waist and pulling the slide, letting Rat King see the details of the gun and find himself unsure of its model as a bullet flew out of the gap in the gun as he catches it, "of her words." He finished, showing the round as Rat King couldn't recognize the style of the bullet or see any Originium as he nodded.

If something like this got out…

He removed the magazine, inserting the bullet back into the magazine before inserting the magazine and slipping the gun back into his holster. "My weapons are like anyone's. Meant to do its users' bidding." He answered as the Rat King nodded.

"Of course." The Rat King nodded, letting the subject drop as the atmosphere in the car eased greatly. "And what would you do with such weapons?"

"Dunno," Josue admitted, shrugging. "I'm a Tech, mostly." He said, to the Rat King's amusement. "I just like messing with vehicles, modifying them. Things like that."

"You wouldn't pick them up?" The Rat King asked as Josue raised a brow.

"The life of a mercenary isn't one you abandon completely." Josue pointed out, "Besides," he added with a small grin, "a bit of a workout never hurt anyone."

The Rat King chuckled while Josue eased, his grin becoming a simple upturn of his lips as the Rat King continued, "What about outside of jobs?"

"I'm no saint," Josue admitted openly, "but I've got skills I can use outside of combat." He continued, mind going back to his more charitable actions in Night City, "Ma didn't raise a bitch, and she sure as hell didn't raise a selfish bastard."

For a second, neither said anything before the Rat King huffed in amusement. He reaches for the folds of his suit and brings out a communicator. "Then, say I had a job for you, what would you say?" He asked as Josue glanced at the communicator and scoffed.

Reaching for his bag, he brought out a different phone and showed it to him. "Use this one." Josue insisted, "A burner, the only number on it is mine and impossible to track." He said, the Rat King holding it gently as he inspected it. Glancing at Josue, he makes a motion of his hand, flicking his hand outward along with his thumb. Mimicking the action, the Rat King unfurled the burner as Josue nodded, the screen displaying a single name. Tiger.

"Interesting…" The Rat King noted with interest. "You say you work with technology?"

"While we're here," Josue continued, "let's talk about the job." He said, leaning forward in interest. "Tell me the deets."

The Rat King sighed, shaking his head before divulging the details.

Seems like some anti-Infected civilians were getting a bit too close to the Slums, even attacking some of the citizens who live in it when they tried to leave. It's more than they were beating normal people rather than the Infected, but harming anyone in the slums is not something you do without repercussions.

"Do you want them dead?" Josue asked as the Rat King shook his head.

"It hasn't escalated to that point." The Rat King assured him before adding, "Yet."

"Right, rough 'em up?" He asked as the Rat King nodded, "Simple enough. Sure, I'll take it."

"Good." The Rat King nodded, "In return for fixing up this 'shitbox' as you call it, I'll get the LGD off your back this time."

"Think you can add in a few manuals of vehicles in Terra?" He asked as the Rat King nodded.

"Simple enough. Then I guess that means we're even?" The Rat King noted while Josue nodded.

"Don't see how we can't be. I'll call you once it's done. It's only one group, right?" He asked as the Rat King shook his head.

"It's many." The Rat King said as Josue had an idea pop up in his mind, humming as he brought a hand to his chin. "Three in particular."

"Where are they usually around?" Josue asked, and the Rat King gave him vague directions about where the attacks had taken place. "Right, hold off on clearing my name for now until after the job is done. Take some of my pay while you're at it if you need to."

"If you're sure." The Rat King conceded, a bit confused but slowly painting a picture, "But, why?"

"You'll see," Josue assured him while looking out the window. "Right here is fine." He noted. The Rat King told the driver to stop as he made his way out into a random corner of the Slums. "Thanks for the drive, I'll call once the job is done." He said, closing the door behind him. He went to an alleyway and grabbed a pipe, spinning it idly, and made his way in a random direction.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. By the time you should be reading this, the previous threadmarks and the first chapter on AO3 should have been edited. I should really start editing things before I post them.

If you're interested in other stuff I do, check out my carrd.