Leo and V sat in the backseat.
Jack, being the big guy he was, could only sit in the passenger seat.
As soon as he got in, he looked around with wide eyes. "Damn, is this an armored car? Taxis are this fancy now?"
"Thank you for the compliment. Delamain's priority is to provide the highest quality service to every customer. Choose Delamain—leave your troubles at the door."
Delamain's face appeared on the screen, reciting his usual advertisement.
When Jack found out it was an AI-operated self-driving car and heard about its combat record from V, he was amazed.
"Self-driving taxis, huh. Guess drivers are getting phased out. Hey, Delamain, you take gigs for bachelor parties? My nephew finally found someone, needs a lift."
"I'm afraid we do not provide services of that nature."
"C'mon, loosen up! There's money to be made! Dress the car up with some fake flowers, make it festive—guaranteed to bring in more than a regular cab."
"Your suggestion has been noted for future evaluation."
Leo looked at Jack chatting up Delamain and found himself impressed. That shameless friendliness, being able to get along with anyone—it really was a skill in itself.
While he spaced out, the car had already crossed the sea bridge, leaving the corporate plaza behind.
On the other side was Watson District.
And not far from the bridge's exit was one of Night City's most legendary spots—the Afterlife, maintaining a deliberate but not distant proximity to the City Center.
Once they got out, Jack's eyes immediately went to the nearby parking spaces.
"Type-66 'Avenger'—people say it's the sexiest car ever built."
"Thraex 388 Jefferson, armored edition, fully bulletproof. This beast is the heaviest and toughest road-legal vehicle out there. A true rolling fortress."
"All top-tier rides. Makes sense. Only the big shots come to Afterlife."
Leo glanced at them as well. "You're pretty knowledgeable about cars, Jack."
"Of course. I'm a man—guns, engines, horsepower. That's my thing. But personally, I prefer motorcycles. More agile, more fun."
Hearing the two talk, V couldn't help but think about her own beat-up Hera, probably the eighteenth owner. To her, a vehicle was just a tool. Bulletproofing was a plus, sure, but everything else? Whatever.
"I swear, you two look like car thieves. Didn't you see the bodyguards watching you like hawks?"
Jack stared right back and even tipped his chin at one of the guards.
"What are they gonna do? You think anyone would dare steal a car here? The fixers and mercs inside would eat them alive."
"I'm telling you—"
Ring ring, ring ring...
Jack's phone cut him off.
He checked the screen, and his grin vanished. "My mom…"
He stepped aside to take the call.
"Ma... yeah... yeah, I know. I'm not messing around. Just hanging with some friends. Mhm... yeah, Leo and V, you've met them. Uh-huh... right…"
In just a few lines, he perfectly played the part of the dutiful son.
After hanging up, he walked back over with a sigh. "My mom's always worried I'm up to no good. I told her I left the gang. I'm done with that life. But she just won't stop worrying…"
V chuckled. "Honestly, I don't blame her. With your family situation, you think you can just walk away? So long as that bar of yours is open in Valentino turf, you're still tied to them. Like ants on a string."
"Shit… ain't that the truth. Whatever, I don't wanna think about it. Kills my mood."
Jack shook it off and waved them toward the Afterlife's entrance.
Leo quietly filed away that bit of info, following behind.
The Afterlife was as iconic as its reputation suggested. A standalone building, no other shops in sight.
Just before entering, Leo stopped them and headed over to a row of vending machines.
"What are you doing? Planning to sneak in drinks? Don't blame me if the bartender decks you."
"Screw you. I'm buying something else."
He ignored V's sarcasm and searched the options until he found what he wanted.
[Blank Credchips – Multiple denominations available, from 5€ to 50€. Anonymous. Untraceable. Not linked to any ID. Whether it's laundering, dodging taxes, or slipping bribes—this is your go-to chip, bro!]
"Wow, bold ad copy."
Leo scoffed, then bought two 1000€ credchips for just 20€. Not real cash—just fancy tokens.
"What the hell do you need those for? You're not planning to bribe the bouncers, are you?"
V looked baffled.
Leo looked even more annoyed. "Come on, this is still technically old America. If I want to get things done, I gotta tip people. That's just how it works."
He loaded the chips and slid them into his pocket.
"Alright, let's go."
The trio descended the steps.
On the way down, Jack gave him a full rundown on how legendary Afterlife was—ganglords' hangout, top-tier mercs only.
V added, "Used to be a morgue. Fun fact."
Leo already knew that. Still, stepping in and feeling the icy air blast from every direction did leave a strong impression.
Ventilation fans everywhere, and each breath felt like it carried frost.
At the bottom of the stairs, about ten meters ahead, was the main entrance.
Scattered vending machines and patrons who either couldn't get in—or had come out for air—lined the walls.
Jack took point. V took the rear, shielding Leo from most of the stares.
"Ready to be impressed? Let's go!"
Jack couldn't hold it in anymore—rubbing his hands together, even throwing in a few Latin dance moves.
But before they could bask in the glory—
"Hold up. You folks here as clients or mercs?"
A mountain of a man, Emmerick, blocked their way like a human wall.
Compared to how he acted in the "story," his tone here was already pretty tame.
Leo figured it had to be his appearance—tailored suit, composed demeanor. He practically radiated class, like a gold nugget in a gravel pile. You couldn't hide that kind of shine.
Jack and V stepped aside without a word.
The leader of the group was clear.
Leo stepped forward, confident. "Neither. I'm the new fixer. You can call me L."
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