“Right this way,” Jin said as he headed towards a set of stairs that would take us up to a mezzanine floor overlooking the wider living room area where everyone else already were. Varian followed, and so did his boys. Jin stopped, turned around to look at Varian, and shook his head.

“Tell your backup dancers to wait downstairs,” Jin said. “That’s the VIP floor. You should know that by now.”

Varian scoffed. “What about your huscle?”

“David has… a special dispensation,” Jin said. “In addition to that, he doesn’t take nearly as much space as all four of your guys combined. But most importantly, he has actual personality, as opposed to those stage extras of yours.”

Varian rolled his eyes, and turned to his boys. “Go on, get your drinks in.” His guys nodded and then just stood there, like mannequins. They gave me a weird vibe—they seemed way too determined to obey. That level of discipline made me wonder if these guys were somehow special, as far as Militech operatives went, or if Varian was just that guy. The kind of guy that a hapless drone could only beg and scrape in the presence of.

Jin proceeded forward and I followed after him.

“You know,” I said to Jin’s back. “I thought you said ‘pre-drinks’.”

“This is pre-drinks. Perk up, Davey-chan, we have a whole day ahead of us.”

For some reason, I felt like I was with mom again, but only when she dragged me out to town with her to help her with shopping. A never-ending cyclone of running around aimlessly, every which way, feeling no real progress as the day went by.

I wasn’t even done with this first leg of the day, and I was already tired. What else could there possibly be? “What are we doing next?” I asked. “After we’re done here?”

“Hitting the festival.”

“The festival,” I repeated dryly. Rather than ask him, I just surfed the Net to look up any likely events that fit the bill.

The most likely event in question seemed to be Memorial Omatsuri in Japantown. They had big names performing like Us Cracks and Lizzy Wizzy, too.

At least it wasn’t in the fucking desert.

The Festival doors opened at twelve, with non-stop performances until midnight, and music that lasted until six AM. Then, after six hours, the whole thing would start over again, all the way until Friday. Though, technically, all the celebrations would end on Saturday, six AM.

“I don’t dance, Jin.”

“Bitch, you think I will?” We finally reached the mezzanine floor, and I saw some familiar faces, and some not.

Trauma Team’s Leon Öz, with his sheet-white skin and outfit, baggy shorts, a thick white jacket, and a golden chain hanging over his chest. Zetatech’s Kitty Galore, the purple cat exotic, was standing next to him, enjoying a glass of red wine while he grinned toothily at her, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.

The blond and red-eyed Masaki was there too, next to the long-haired Alessandro, the both of them drinking whisky together, and both seemingly vying to get the attention of Ling Ruomei, the dark-haired, red-eyed beauty straight from a model catalogue.

Given how often I saw them with Jin, I almost couldn’t be blamed for making the mistake that these guys might actually be his friends.

But the reality was a lot darker, and a lot more straightforward. Each and every single one of these guys wouldn’t shed a single tear if Jin were to drop dead, and they only tolerated Jin’s presence due to the expectation that they could profit from being in proximity to him, somehow.

Jin viewed them the same way as well. And I viewed Jin the same way, and vice versa.

It was relationship profiteering all the way down in this world. I had my doubts that Masaru ever had Jin for any other reason than to build a dynasty.

“People, people,” Jin said. “I’m glad you could all make it this early in the morning. I have a special announcement to make.” He approached a table at the center of the floor, that held a glazed white ceramic sake bottle shaped to look like a gourd. It had a big black Kanji at the center, that said ‘genshu’. Undiluted. The bottle stood nestled between two cups like wooden boxes, each of their edges interlocking. “Do you guys remember David Martinez?” Jin put a hand on my shoulder.

“How could we forget?” Ruomei asked, grinning at me. It was a sharp grin, her head tilted forwards and her eyes boring into me, like she was searching for my every secret.

Alessandro put up an impressive act, pretending like he and I didn’t have a score to settle. Maybe he was thinking that if he simply let the matter lie, all our bad blood would disappear. After all, what could I possibly do to get back at him?

Or maybe he was plotting his next move? Something less clumsy than pointing a gun at my face?

Didn’t matter. In fact, he and I could never speak to one another again, and I’d still look for a way to fuck him over. I didn’t need an excuse at this point. He had threatened my life. Tried to drag me down back to the ground right after the biggest win in my life.

Almost forced me to reveal an unacceptably broad range of ability that could have compromised my secret identity.

Even more importantly, this guy was Night City Biotechnica in the flesh.

No, I wouldn’t let that slide.

Jin rounded the table, and stood opposite to me. Then he filled both wooden cups with the sake, and slid my wooden cup closer to myself. “Today… is the day,” Jin said. “In which I formally welcome David Martinez to my household. As a brother.”

Vassal.

Jin’s expression was tightly controlled, and rather than try to save face, I instead looked solemnly at him. This likely wouldn’t take very long. “Let me hear your oath, David.”

An oath? Annoying.

“I vow,” I said, “to support the Ryuzaki household in all its endeavors. Now and forever.”

The others looked on consideringly, in varying degrees of disappointment. Varian looked downright angry, while Ruomei bore a mild, withering look in her eyes.

Jin raised his cup, and as did I.

Then we drank, sealing the deal as we did.

Goddammit, Jin.

Masaki clapped his hands, all smiles. Then he picked his glass of whisky up from the table next to him and raised it. “Congratulations, Mr. Martinez. I’m glad to officially welcome you to Arasaka.”

Something told me that he’d be a much bigger headache in the future than Alessandro or Varian. As the old saying went, ‘familiarity breeds contempt’. And he probably stood to gain much more than any of the others if Jin or his old man was to lose standing.

“Congratulations,” Ling Ruomei said as well, with desultory interest. The others gave their own half-hearted congratulations. Jin reached over the small table to clap me on my shoulder. His eyes glowed gold as he called me.

Jin: You could have gone more Kurosawa with it.

According to the Net, he was a film director from Japan known to have directed a lot of the classical samurai flicks over a century ago.

David: Personally, I thought I was going overboard with it.

Jin: You’re so fucking lucky that you’ll mostly be answering to me, David. My dad would have infected you with a virus that pumps your neural link full of pain just for the audacity. Me personally, I don’t care, but—just count your blessings, man. It’s good for your health.

David: Got some stuff to discuss vis a vis the big oyabun.

Jin: Later. Now for the games.

“So!” Jin said. “I’m so glad that all of you could answer my call. Memorial Week is all about remembering all the corporate wars that were fought, that shaped the world into what it was now. It’s our place to be grateful for those outcomes that allowed the likes of Biotechnica, Kang Tao, Zetatech, and, of course, Arasaka to build this city into what it is now: a bastion of free trade and limitless economic growth. And, of course, we can’t forget to thank our friends at Trauma Team,” he nodded at Leon, who grinned viciously, “For keeping Night City safe, for healing our sick and wounded, and making this hellhole a worthwhile place to live.”

Varian cleared his throat.

“And Militech,” Jin continued. “For graciously rolling over and giving us back this beautiful city, when all hope for it seemed lost seven years ago.”

Bullshit. As far as the common person was concerned, Night City had never improved with the arrival of Arasaka. In some metrics, things had gotten even worse.

The market told a different story, though, because of course it did.

[Suppose now, you’re finally on the level where you can look at the news go on about how much the economy is growing, and be rewarded by that growth.]

Once I locked in the QianT deal.

Which, now, I was wondering how exactly I was meant to do that. Qiang had asked me if Arasaka owned me, and that seemed to have been a rather major point in our talks. Would he tell me to take my eddies elsewhere if he knew that he’d be selling off a portion of his company to Arasaka, and not just to me?

Guess I’d just have to talk to him and find out for myself.

“But let me not bore you with platitudes and ceremony,” Jin said. “After all, I know you’re all itching to talk about the latest media craze, and figure out some ways to contribute to your respective corporations in what is becoming the most exciting manhunt in recent news.” My eyes widened fractionally.

Was he talking about… me?

What did he have planned?

He reached into the right outer pocket of his red haori and retrieved a metal case, which he opened and revealed to the rest of the room. “D. The masked menace. An unstoppable mercenary who has been active for months, and only truly made a splash in recent days. Alessandro can surely attest to the damage that he has done,” he nodded at the Biotechnica company boy, who sneered in response. “Likewise, I have been a fan of him for months as well, ever since he began disseminating BDs of his missions.”

“Wait, months?” Varian growled. “And you got his BDs, too?”

“I do,” Jin said. “Preem quality, uncut, perfect resolution. These aren’t Net-rips. They came straight from the source. Straight from the skezzed-out brain of this cyberpsycho that got all of you running scared, wondering if you’ll be next on his chopping block.” His grin widened. “Alright now, who wants to enter the mind of this guy and see how he thinks? It’s valuable data for your intelligence agencies.”

Alessandro stepped forward. “I’ll buy them—“

“Ah-ah-ah,” Jin wagged his index finger at him. “No buy. You can watch it if you want. We can head to the media room and play the BDs. I’ve got three installments so far: Wraith One, Wraith Two and Maelstrom One.”

“Anything on Tijuana?” Varian asked. “Or the scav killings? Jotaro Shobo?”

Jin nodded at me.

Wait—he still wanted me to play his XBD gofer? I repressed my irritation and spoke. “Not yet. So far, the only ones out are the Wraith series and Maelstrom One.”

“So you’re his supplier, too,” Varian surmised, looking at me. “And where’d you get them from? Ain’t a boostergang in town that’s got the OG cuts. They all sold out like hot cakes when the news broke.”

“He wasn’t so famous when I got them,” I said. “Simpler times back then. All he did was target boostergangs and nomads, not corps.”

Leon cackled. “That bitch won’t last another day after what he did. Even if it was in Mexico, ain’t no way he’ll outrun every badge or spook out after him.”

I wouldn’t be so quick to judge that to be the case. The entire crew except for Lucy were still in Mexico, laying low, and waiting for the storm to blow over. In any other case, I’d have felt guilty for making them go out of their way to such an extent.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

But then I’d have to ignore the fact that they were getting shitfaced every day with my family, and they were all utterly rich to boot.

They were doing fine. For now, at least.

My greatest worry was… Judy Alvarez. She and I needed to talk.

“So!” Jin said. “Which one of you dare to peek into the brain of a seasoned mass-murderer with a kill-count in the high hundreds?”

Jin seemed to relish in their collective hesitation. I was curious myself, to find out who would.

000

Lucy luxuriated in the quiet of her bathroom as she laid submerged inside a tub of coolant filled with ice. There was nothing like a dip inside a tub at negative fifteen degrees to keep her calm. The good thoughts lasted longer and the bad thoughts disappeared a lot faster than normal.

She listened calmly to Kiwi recounting the days in Tijuana, grinning slightly at the reports of the crew’s antics.

Lucy: When are you guys coming back again?

Kiwi: Don’t know about the others. Caught some snippets of convo I personally couldn’t believe at the time, but… it’s beginning to make a lot more sense.

Lucy: What do you mean?

Kiwi: Maine and the others might stick around with David’s granny

Lucy frowned pensively.

Lucy: The fuck would he wanna do that, for?

Kiwi: These guys aren’t anything special. Definitely not on Maine’s level. Though I don’t think anyone is—apart from D. I dunno. You ask me, I think Maine just wants to get more involved in David’s corpo ambitions. Build him a big and shiny army, just cuz. Don’t think Maine even knows how to retire. Lucky for me, I do. Don’t get why Faraday doesn’t understand that.

Lucy’s frown sharpened.

Lucy: Is the creep bothering you?

Kiwi: Says he’s got an assignment for me. I’m the best netrunner he’s got contacts with, so it makes sense why he wants me to do it so badly. I don’t really give a shit, though. I just want out right now. And…

Lucy: What?

Kiwi: Don’t know. Guy just gives me a bad feeling. Said he’d pay me two hundred for this gig. Never gotten a big-ticket gig like that before, ‘specially not for a solo assignment. Point is, my Spidey senses are tingling, so I’m… just gonna get the fuck out. Not looking back. Flying out from Tijuana tonight. Or maybe I should just skip town, first, and head on from someplace else.

The news hit Lucy like a sack of bricks.

Lucy: Just like that?

Kiwi: Haven’t been home for almost three days now. The dead man’s switch on my apartment network’s gonna go off soon. It’ll corrupt everything I own, and then I’ll make a clean break with my savings. But… I’m not gonna make any bones about this, Lucy. I’m out.

Lucy submerged fully under the ice cubes, letting the ill thoughts vent off from her.

Lucy: I’ll miss you.

Kiwi: …thanks. Don’t look for me. And if you can swing by my place and give my stuff the ol’ bathtub treatment, that’d be nova.

Lucy: Faraday?

Kiwi: He’s trying to bait me out. Trying to get to your boy through me. It’s fucking obvious.

Kiwi always did have a rather paranoid streak. Now that she actually had things to lose, Lucy could understand just how much that streak was taking over her.

But in Lucy’s opinion, it wasn’t Faraday that posed a threat to David.

It was Rogue. According to David, she actually knew his name. That was worrisome to say the least. D was in good standing with the Afterlife after he led that corp-raid and gave everyone a fat paycheck that more than made up for the increased risk and scrutiny from the corps.

Lucy: Call me at least, once you’re out of the way and settled, doing—whatever the fuck.

No shot she’d just reveal that. They’d gone through a lot together, and now she was just going to make a break like it wasn’t even hard for her.

That… made all too much sense. This was who she had always been.

Kiwi: …Sure. It’s been… fun, Lucy. Fun knowing you.

Lucy: You too.

Lucy splashed around a little in the tub, debating whether to just end the conversation right there or drag it on.

What else could they talk about at this point?

Resources.

They spoke over each other—

Lucy: Your private servers—

Kiwi: You can have the passkey—

They paused awkwardly for a moment.

Kiwi: Knock yourself out. Take whatever you need. I’ll text you my passkeys. Don’t look at the folders clearly labelled porn, or do—it’s up to you.

Lucy: Thanks. I’ll, uh, treasure it.

Kiwi: …I mean, it’s fetish lesbian porn, but whatever floats your boat, choom.

Lucy laughed.

Lucy: you nasty bitch

Kiwi: Oh, you don’t know the half of it.

And she never intended on finding out that other half.

After they said their farewells, Lucy got off the tub and started drying off as she considered this errand.

000

Faraday: Have you given my offer any thoughts?

Kiwi sat by herself in the corner of the yard, emptily staring at the idiotic scene before her eyes: the Martinez clan partying like there was no tomorrow, and the crew joining in on the ruckus, being taught traditional Mexican dances while they laughed and whooped with joy.

There wasn’t a serious bunch among those guys. They were country hicks, every single one of them. In a way, Kiwi felt bad for Maine, that he’d voluntarily tie himself down to these guys, and voluntarily choose to live in this… half-city.

She also couldn’t deny the bit of respect that she had lost for him as well, for choosing to live in this fishbowl.

But maybe that was retirement, in his head. God knew nothing here could really threaten him, especially after they just took out the regional ‘lords’. Militech were a constant wherever you went in North America—nothing could really be done about them.

But their presence here was… tentative. Half-assed, almost. Maybe that would change in the coming days, as more Militech plants would arrive to the city to investigate the insanity that had occurred on Sunday.

Kiwi definitely needed to go.

Kiwi: I have. I’ll be in town tomorrow—

Faraday: I would prefer it strongly if you arrived by tonight. This assignment is extremely time-sensitive.

Kiwi: I hear you.

Faraday: A million.

Kiwi’s eyes widened.

Faraday: I know what you’re thinking. You’ve come to the correct conclusion. I applaud you for that. You always were one of my sharper assets. But you heard right: one million Eurodollars. Just give me what I need.

A million…

That would almost double her score.

There was a lot that you could do with a million and a half. Few doors wouldn’t open to her with that level of wealth. Especially on the Net.

But with two point five mill…

Africa. She could go to Africa, maybe even Somalia, and start playing around on the Net there, far away from corrupt data structures and toxic architectures. A clean Net. A clean start.

But—

Faraday: What is the guarantee that you would receive any of it if we were to meet? That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? If you weren’t, I’d be disappointed, really. So let’s instead cut to the chase. Give me D’s identity, give me leverage over D, or give me both.

Leverage…

The easiest ‘leverage’ there was would be Lucy.

She looked at the time on her HUD. D would still be in school or some shit, since it was daytime.

Faraday could realistically send a bunch of goons to Lucy’s place and grab her. And they’d probably be able to if they were to take her by surprise.

Either that, or they could lie in wait in Kiwi’s apartment, waiting for Lucy to arrive to grab whatever she needed from her place.

Then she’d have to worry about cashing in.

Avoiding Faraday’s greed getting the better of him.

The stress of clawing for another score when she was already flush with cash as it was, from Maine’s generous donation, and from her share of the winnings of this gig.

Dammit.

She hung up on Faraday and blocked his number.

Need to get the fuck out. And also leave the others with a warning that Faraday’s sniffing around.

???: Good choice, chica.

Kiwi’s eyes widened at the sudden intrusion in her line. She looked around and then saw one person staring straight at her, from across the yard, seated around a bunch of the younger Martinezes.

These hicks had a weird habit of trying to separate merc specializations by gender. The boys were shooters and heavies, while the girls were Netrunners or techies. Following classical gender stereotypes that the military had popularized way back at the turn of the century.

And staring directly at her was one of David’s female cousins, one of the Netrunners. She had a full head of fiery red hair, a thin, oblong piece of chrome implanted on her forehead at the side, and she had replaced her entire throat with a coolant system. The two major muscles around her larynx were black tubes, and she had seen the back of the girl’s head. Lots of chrome there, too.

She wore a red and black dress, the puffy Latin type with the tiers around the dress part, and around her eyes were thick, black shadows that gave her face a skull-like look to it.

Kiwi: How the fuck did you—

???: You’re using a phone tower that I’ve already hacked. Tijuana’s tech infrastructure is downright Paleolithic, you know. As long as you have the right cash, and the right skill, you pretty much own this shithole.

The cousins around her were laughing as one of the younger ones—a kid that seemed to be a D superfan judging by the EMT jacket, the pants, and the undercut she was sporting—spun a pair of guns on their triggers for a comically long amount of time.

Kiwi: So what’s the score?

The bitch grinned indulgently.

???: Fifty thousand.

The nerve of this—

Kiwi: Your family’s rich.

???: But that’s not cash that I get to hold, myself. I’m trying to build up my own purchasing power. You’re free to turn down my generous offer to bury that conversation of yours under the rug. I know that the worst that can happen is a big argument followed by a bit of distrust. And a not-so-clean break at the end of it all. But would you really take this chance? This close to the finish line?

Fuck.

Fuck!

She stood up, and walked away. Into the manor, intent on leaving through the front door.

She already pinged the Net for a cab, too.

???: Don’t forget to pay up.

She angrily sent the cash through the phone line as she walked down the street, waiting for the cab to arrive.

???: Pleasure doing biz, mami.

A cab finally did arrive, and she already began sketching a final farewell to Maine and Dorio while the car drove her away.

Kenya, she decided. Pretty rainy this time of the year, but it would do for now.

000

Jin watched in satisfaction as every single one of his guests took on the challenge.

“Nothing like an XBD in the morning to kick off the day, eh?” Jin grinned brightly. Last time he’d brought in guests to this room to watch XBDs, half of them had hurled up their dinners. It had taken days for the cleaners to scrub the last bit of stink from the floors, too.

The truth was, Jin sincerely regretted that day. Not because they had made trouble for him, but simply because they hadn’t been particularly satisfying targets. They were all just Arasaka drones in the making. Meat with no standing.

He couldn’t wait to see how the likes of Varian, Ruomei, or that son of a whore Masaki would react.

David stood next to him, watching the rest as they were slumped over, stirring fitfully as they watched through the mercenary D’s eyes, another day in the life of a super-solo.

“David,” Jin said. “You said you had a direct source to more of this D stuff, way back when.”

David nodded. “I had a contact. Wanted me to push the BDs in school, get you and people like you hooked so you’d boost the popularity. But…” he sighed. “D was a nobody back then. When Maelstrom dropped, I was still at the front of the line, but my guy dropped them publicly too, the same day. Don’t think they really need my marketing strategy anymore.” He chuckled dryly. “Definitely not.”

Jin looked at David. “You know everyone and their mom’s looking for this guy. You got any leads on this contact, you’d be stupid not to share them.”

David chuckled. “I definitely would be. Problem is,” he frowned. “The guy that hooked me up with D’s shit? Total paranoid schizo. Never even once spoke face to face. He’d dead-drop me the chips and wouldn’t even accept wire transfers. Had to dead-drop the cash.” He furrowed his brows and then chuckled. “I’m thinking… uh…”

“What? Spit it out.”

“Maybe that was D, himself?”

Jin scoffed. “No shot. You think he’d be too pussy to meet someone like you face to face?”

David actually looked vaguely insulted by that. Hilarious. “Maybe it’s caution?” David smoothed his expression, shrugged. “Nobody knows his name—“

“—Yet,” Jin said, “and it’s only because nobody ever thought to look. Trust me, David. He’ll be found out soon enough,” Jin grinned. “And if ‘Saka finds him first, well, whoever gets him? Trust me, you do not want to pass up on that kind of praise from my old man.”

Not that the old man would ever let that accomplishment get to David’s head. That just wasn’t his style. But it would drastically boost David’s job security in Arasaka. Decrease his expendability.

In that respect, being useful to Masaru Ryuzaki was just good for your health.

“Yeah,” David nodded. “Your old man’s got me on another case, though. Tanaka’s, if you can believe it,” he grinned. “Funny how that works.”

Jin raised an eyebrow. “You mean Gotō? Why you?”

David shrugged. “He thinks I might have something to contribute, as someone ‘close to the street’ or whatever. Thinks my gutter contacts might count for something.”

More probably, he was setting David down a wild goose chase just to fuck with his self-esteem. Classic dad.

“Screw that shit,” Jin said. “Look for D if you really wanna make him happy. Arasaka Counter Intel’s all over Gotō. They’ll get to the bottom of that shit soon. But D’s where the money is. All the big-name corps are in on this joint task force with the NCPD to bust this guy.”

David frowned. “Wait, really? All he did was hit a small-time corp outside of town, right?”

He had so much to learn. “How do you suppose he did that, dipshit? By himself? With those kinds of capabilities? No. He got kitted out by some corp with some bullshit black-ops tech, and went and whacked a real-deal CEO on their say. He’s a lab rat, no two ways about it. What we wanna figure out is, why? Who is he, what is he? Which lab did he crawl out of? Who is giving him his orders? Who do we pin the blame on?”

“But if he’s not from a lab?” David asked.

“Even better,” Jin said. “Then the corp that finds him can massively profit from just figuring out how he does it. Failing that, we can fold him in, turn him into a ninja, like Sandayu Oda or Goro Takemura. Real Arasaka legends.”

“Or Smasher,” David suggested. Jin looked at David and giggled.

“I wish,” Jin said. “Dude. No one beats Smasher. He’s a fucking monster. Though I’d cut off my legs with an axe to see an XBD of him and D throwing down, even if it ends exactly as anyone would expect.”

David looked at Jin seriously. “Any chance I could join that task force?”

Jin’s eyes widened in surprise. This fucking guy. Jin had only floated the idea as a faint possibility, just to talk about the subject of D.

This gonk actually thought he had a shot at finding him.

Joining the task force though… that was easier said than done. After all, Arasaka was fronting top guys from Counter Intel. Some scary motherfuckers too, like Arthur Jenkins and Susan Abernathy, both of whom had their own top boys and girls on the case. Jenkins fronted an up-and-comer, a real prodigy in the making who went by V, while Abernathy’s girl was Kate Winslow, who was currently assigned to Goto’s case and was otherwise involved with the Cyberskeleton project.

Problem was, both those factions were liable to collide in a badway in the coming months or weeks. Jenkins and Abernathy had bad blood, and this competition to find D would only rile them up further.

“Muddy waters,” Jin shook his head. “You don’t want to get in the middle of a power-struggle at Counter Intel. You’ll get eaten alive.”

David nodded. “Thought I’d have some chance, at least. I’m on good terms with one of them, I think. You know a guy by the name of Vincent Valeri?”

Jin narrowed his eyes at David and grinned. “You’re a fucking go-getter, David. You know that? Shit. So, what, you think there’s a chance you could cozy up to him and his boss? At least to the point that you wouldn’t have to worry about getting stabbed in the back by them, and only by that faction’s rival in Counter Intelligence?”

David sighed, thinking it over. “What’s the sitch, here? Active shooting levels, or just cold war?”

“Hot war, but not active shooting. Not quite yet. But this ain’t a drunken fight with some junior security officer not even out of high school, David. These are real motherfuckers.”

David frowned. “Listen. I don’t like it any more than you do, Jin. But your dad wants me to prove my worth somehow, and I’m just grasping for straws here. If you think me joining this task force is suicide, I’ll listen. But if there’s any way for me to pull this off, just help me out. Help me stay alive, and I’ll… do my best to bring back results.”

Jin would have to be stupid to put his faith in David.

Déjà vu.

He had thought the same thing the first time they went out together, and David had gone and kicked the shit out of Varian’s cousin, Hou Ken, and any other asshole that tried to step up to him that night. He’d even hacked into a casino’s surveillance cameras to win back the money he carelessly gambled on poker. Jin hadn’t even expected to have that money returned to him, but David had acted the role of a mother hen, constantly erasing his mistakes everywhere he went like it was his job.

Then the Nightmare Rally came around, and David had absolutely blown every expectation Jin had out of the water. He had won.

This D affair was… grown-up business. But what grown-up business had David failed to perform optimally, as of yet?

This kid… he really might bag me this trophy.

“Alright,” Jin said with a grin. “I’ll support you. Welcome to Counter Intel, you overachieving bastard.”