With Neo's current strength and sword mastery, splitting a moving car in half was child's play.
Before the corporate agents even processed what was happening, he swung again. A second pale-green arc cut through the night, and the second corp vehicle was cleaved perfectly down the middle — as if some invisible god of death demanded symmetry.
Two swings. Two explosions.
By the time the smoke cleared, the remaining corporate agents were frozen in disbelief.
This wasn't Adam Smasher.
But whatever he was, he was something worse.
They'd hunted all kinds before — smugglers, rebels, even cyberpsychos gone mad from chrome overload. But they'd never faced someone like this.
The man on that speeding car had no chrome.
No implants. No optics.
Not even the faintest trace of cybernetics under his skin.
In 2077, that was practically impossible.
Even beggars in Night City had some kind of implant — a prosthetic limb, a secondhand neural jack, a discount lung filter. Chrome wasn't just a commodity; it was identity. It told the world who you were, what you could afford, and how much power you wielded.
In this city, your body was your business card.
Yet this stranger — this man with nothing but flesh and steel — had just sliced through corporate-grade armored vehicles like they were paper.
One swing, one car.
Two swings, two cars.
No survivors.
"He's unaugmented… he's a purebody!" one agent shouted, his voice cracking.
Another, trembling with rage and disbelief, growled, "Screw this freak! I'm blowing him to hell!"
He yanked a portable shoulder-mounted rocket launcher from the backseat and hoisted it up.
"Rocket launcher?! Shit!"
Jackie Welles, still clinging to the wheel, saw the scene unfold in the rearview mirror and nearly lost his mind. He slammed the accelerator to the floor, the engine screaming in protest as the car drifted and fishtailed across the road.
"They've got goddamn rockets, choom!" Jack yelled, teeth gritted.
Fwoosh!
The corporate agent fired. The missile streaked through the air like a comet, its target locked dead ahead.
Neo stood atop the car, eyes following the rocket's trail. He slowly exhaled — and slid his blade back into its sheath.
The calm before the storm.
Then —
He drew again.
One Sword Style: Iai – Lion's Song
Shing!
The sound was pure, sharp, absolute. A line of invisible energy split the air, carrying a storm of sword intent that ripped reality itself apart.
In that single flash, the rocket, its launcher, the agent holding it, and every nearby corporate vehicle were all severed cleanly in one perfect stroke.
Neo's body moved before the light faded. His silhouette cut through the convoy like a phantom, landing lightly on the cracked asphalt.
A heartbeat later —
BOOM.
The world exploded behind him.
The blast tore open the night sky, flames clawing upward, painting the desert red.
Jack watched from the mirror, eyes wide and unblinking.
He wasn't even sure he was awake anymore.
If anyone had told him yesterday that a single man with a sword could obliterate an entire corporate kill squad, he'd have laughed in their face. Maybe even slapped them for the stupidity.
Now, he wanted to slap himself — just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
…
They drove into an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts, the echo of the engine bouncing off the rusted walls. Jack was still babbling the whole way, his voice trembling between shock and admiration.
"Neo, hermano, that was insane! You're not human, you're chrome incarnate! I'm telling you, you're gonna be a legend in Night City, bro! A real legend!"
Neo rubbed his temples. "Legends in Night City are all buried six feet under, Jack. I'd rather stay alive. Now, enough talk. Let's check the cargo."
"Right, right."
They stepped out of the car. Jack opened the trunk, slapped his palm on the metal crate, and began punching in the code.
"You seriously gonna open that?" Neo asked dryly. "Pretty sure your client won't be thrilled knowing you peeked before delivery."
Jack grinned. "Oh, please. After all the chrome-shit we went through tonight, I earned the right to look. Screw the buyers, the sellers, and the middlemen. We're opening this damn thing."
He hit the final digit.
Click.
The seal released with a hiss, and a cloud of white cryogenic vapor spilled out, curling into the air. When it cleared, the Arasaka Corporation logo gleamed faintly on the inner lid — and beneath it lay a small, vivid-green living lizard.
Jack blinked. "You gotta be kidding me."
He picked it up carefully, holding it under the light.
"Species from the Little Andrias Islands. These things went extinct thirty years ago. You realize how valuable this is?!"
Neo crossed his arms. "Let's deliver it and be done. Take the money and disappear."
Jack nodded quickly, still staring at the lizard in awe. "Yeah, yeah. But after that — you're coming with me to Night City, yeah?"
Neo looked toward the distant skyline, a web of glowing arteries pulsing in the dark. "Lead the way."
…
Night City.
Up close, it was nothing like the simulation.
No screen could capture the chaos, the pulse, the sheer density of life and death crammed together.
Outside the walls lay the broken, wind-blasted Badlands — rust, dust, and bone.
Inside was a vertical jungle of chrome and light. Flying cars buzzed between towers of steel and glass. Gigantic holo-ads shimmered in the smog, selling dreams, sex, and salvation.
Jackie Welles came through, as always. He set Neo up with an apartment, stocked the place with basic supplies, even got him a metro pass that worked across all districts.
Neo didn't have to lift a finger.
For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy it — that rare feeling of having everything handled.
But luck never lasts long in Night City.
And Neo was about to learn that firsthand.
On the metro ride back to Watson District, just one stop away from his new home, he reached into his pocket — and froze.
His wallet was gone.
In the same instant, instinct kicked in. His hand shot out and caught a slender wrist mid-motion.
Soft skin. Quick heartbeat.
He turned his head slowly.
And his eyes met hers.
A girl — sharp eyes, hooded jacket, lips curled in mischief — frozen in place with his wallet between her fingers.
The neon lights flickered over both of them, painting her smile in shades of red and blue.
And just like that, Neo realized: Night City had finally said hello.