Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077-Chapter 167

He had one rule for taking jobs: he had to be allowed to cause destruction at will and kill whoever he wanted.

Those seven years were Arasaka's last act of mercy and Adam Smasher's final taste of freedom. Good times never lasted long. When the Fourth Corporate War broke out, Arasaka summoned Smasher back. After that, he never returned to mercenary work and devoted himself fully to serving Arasaka.

All of the data fixers had on him confirmed the same story.

People still argued about how strong Adam Smasher truly was. During the Fourth Corporate War, Johnny Silverhand had formed an assault team to raid Arasaka Tower. They ran into Adam Smasher and were wiped out, with Johnny losing his life to Smasher. It proved that Smasher surpassed Johnny in combat strength.

Some might assume it was normal for Johnny—a rocker—to lose a fight against a soldier like Smasher, but that wasn't entirely true. Johnny had served in the military before launching his music career, and he had fought in the Central American conflict. Even Arasaka Tower's securities couldn't stop him and his team from forcing their way in and planting a nuclear device.

They only failed because Smasher arrived. Had it been just the guards, Johnny would have succeeded.

Now that Smasher was confirmed to be at Konpeki Plaza, they had no choice but to prepare for a possible showdown with him.

"Someone at Smasher's level definitely has a Sandevistan, and I'd bet he's running a secret Arasaka prototype that outperforms anything on the market," Leo thought. "With my Talent: Time Zero, maybe I could handle that part. The real problem would be his raw strength, speed, and endurance—not to mention all the advanced weapons built into him.

"According to every fixer's intel, Smasher's entire body was cyberized except for his brain, so his strength, speed, and durability completely outclass a human's. Even with Gorilla Arms, nobody could match his strength. I've got Strength Level 9 and the powered arm-guards I built, but comparing myself to Smasher is anybody's guess.

"My custom bulletproof combat suit can reduce the impact of gunfire, but it doesn't do much against melee attacks. And with that level of augmentation, even an unarmed punch from Smasher might hit like a speeding truck.

"On top of that, Konpeki Plaza probably has at least a hundred heavily armed guards. If they call for backup, the special Arasaka rapid-response team could arrive from Arasaka Tower in about three minutes. If we end up fighting Smasher and can't bring him down quickly, we'll end up like Johnny Silverhand.

Maybe worse. Arasaka has Relic tech, which means they must have a digital holding cell for souls. The real nightmare would be dying and still not escaping corporate servitude."

Leo understood how powerful Arasaka was, so he had no intention of letting Jackie go in alone. He couldn't come up with any solid plan off the top of his head. As he passed the bar, he glanced at Rogue's private booth and switched on the scan mode in his tactical goggles.

Inside, he heard Rogue's irritated voice loud and clear.

"Wakako, did you lose your mind? Should I call a doctor? You know I can't stand Ken, yet you let him stay at your pachinko parlor?

"Don't play dumb. I know Ken's back in Night City, and my people saw him walk into your parlor. Now he's vanished. If you didn't hide him, who did?

"All right, fine. We'll see about that."

Leo scratched his head. It sounded like Rogue and Wakako Okada were in the middle of something unpleasant. After a moment's thought, he decided to head over to Rogue's private booth. As usual, Crispin Weyland, Rogue's personal merc, stood guard outside.

When Crispin spotted Leo, he greeted him warmly.

"Hey!"

Leo noticed that Crispin was still wearing the powered arm-guards he'd crafted. He walked over and patted them.

"How are they working out for you?"

"Great," Crispin said, throwing a few playful punches in the air.

Rogue's voice came from inside.

"Is that you, kid? Come in."

Hearing how annoyed his boss sounded, Crispin immediately stopped joking around. Leo walked into the booth and sat on the couch across from Rogue.

"You need me to get something for you again?"

"Yes," Leo replied bluntly.

"All right. You've got money, so tell me—what is it?" ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Rogue never really understood Leo. Unlike most mercs who scraped by in Night City, he had enough earnings from his business dealings with Padre to live comfortably, yet he still took dangerous jobs. Rogue had no clue why, but she did know Leo could afford to pay, and that was enough. She picked up a glass of tequila and took a sip.

"I need powered armor."

"Pffft—" Rogue spat the tequila all over the table. Even she, usually calm and collected, looked stunned. "You're serious?"

"Completely."

She rubbed her temples with a helpless sigh.

"You really have no idea, do you? Do you know how rare that stuff is? Only Kang Tao, Arasaka, and Militech have the technology to make powered armor, and it's top secret.

"Plus, having the tech doesn't mean they can mass-produce it. None of these three corps have equipped their own Night City security forces with powered armor yet. That should tell you something."

It was the first time Leo had heard Rogue so adamantly emphasize how difficult something was.

"Come on, you're Rogue. Is there really anything in Night City you can't get?"

She burst out laughing.

"You're not treating me like a fixer; you're treating me like some goddess who grants miracles. Sorry, kid. Even if I had that armor, I wouldn't dare sell it to you. The heat would be too intense. Every suit from those three companies has a distinct look and would be identified the second you showed it off."

It seemed his attempt at a shortcut had led nowhere. Leo shrugged.

"Fine, worth a try anyway."

In 2077, humanity had indeed cracked the code on powered armor. But for reasons like low yield rates, limited output, and massive production costs, none of the major players in Night City had outfitted their security with it. Still, each mega-corporation had a small elite team that used it.

In such a short timeframe, the only way Leo could think of boosting himself enough to take on Adam Smasher head-on was to acquire powered armor. If even Rogue couldn't do it, he'd have to forget about it.

Now Rogue had her own question.

"Kid, why do you need powered armor? Regular bullets can't get through that special combat suit you're wearing, right?"

Rogue was sharper than most. Although she'd quit merc work for a fixer's life years ago, she still spent a few days every week training as she used to. Her keen eye told her that the white trench coat–style custom combat suit Leo wore wasn't any brand on the market or from a corp. That meant only one possibility: Leo had made it himself.

She already knew about the small-time partnership he had with Padre and suspected that making guns wasn't his only skill. Leo didn't bother explaining too much. He stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait, have you heard the name Stella before?" Rogue asked just as he was about to walk out.

Leo paused. "Stella? Rings a bell."

Stella was also a legend in Night City, though different from the likes of Johnny Silverhand, Morgan Blackhand, or Andrew Weyland. Those icons gained fame when they were young, but Stella's rise came much later in life, around age fifty. In an era when top-of-the-line medicine could keep someone in their eighties looking half their age, that shouldn't have been so unusual, but Stella had come from the streets, where people didn't have access to that level of care. He was one of a kind.

Despite being a legend, Stella's name didn't measure up to giants like Johnny or Morgan. Part of it was that Johnny and Morgan both had fame in other fields—Johnny with his band Samurai, Morgan through classics like The Solo's Manual, which every aspiring solo had read. The other reason was that Stella's rise and fall happened in the span of just one week. He flashed by like a meteor, and hardly anyone remembered his name anymore. He never even visited the Afterlife, so he didn't have a drink named after him there.

"Does this have something to do with what we were just talking about?" Leo asked. He knew Rogue hated pointless chatter.