Meredith Stout's voice was ice-cold, every word as precise as a gun's safety click. No emotion, no curiosity about who was calling her—only suspicion.
Neo smiled faintly, even though she couldn't see it. "Ms. Stout, I'm the one here to solve your problem—and Militech's."
There was a brief pause. Then a dry laugh slid through the comms. "Solve my problem? Oh. So you're the merc Dexter DeShawn sent."
Her tone softened only enough to sound professional. "You want a meeting before the job? Fine. Head to NID—drop below the magrail, follow the drainage channel. I'll be waiting down there."
Then the line went dead.
But in those last seconds, Neo caught the faint background noise of someone screaming—followed by the dull thud of fists on flesh.
…
NID, beneath the magrail.
A heavy Militech armored vehicle sat idling in the damp air, its headlights cutting through the grime and steam of the tunnels.
Meredith Stout leaned against its side, cigarette in hand, the orange glow reflecting off the polished edge of her cybernetic jawline. She was flanked by two heavily armed Militech operatives.
A few meters away, one of them was beating the hell out of a restrained man—Antony Gilchrist, the supposed mole.
"I told you!" he screamed, blood dripping from his split lip. "I'm not the rat!"
Another hit. Hard.
"Stout, make this stop, for fuck's sake—!"
Meredith didn't even blink. "Keep going until he remembers something useful."
That was when Neo appeared—his silhouette emerging from the shadows beneath the rail.
Meredith's sharp blue eyes flicked toward him, sizing him up instantly.
So this was the merc?
He wasn't what she'd expected. Not bulky, not chrome-plated like most muscle-for-hire.
He looked… ordinary. Almost too ordinary.
And that bothered her.
In Militech's ranks, she'd seen small people who could tear tanks apart—but they were rare, and they always looked like killers.
Neo didn't.
He approached calmly unarmed, apparently. No visible implants, no chrome gleam beneath the skin. When the neon light hit him, she realized—there were no signs of augmentation either.
Her brow furrowed. No cybernetics in Night City? That was like walking naked through a firefight.
Unmodified. A "pure human."
The thought made her scoff aloud.
A flesh-and-blood original thought he could waltz into Maelstrom territory and walk out alive? Ridiculous.
Her expression darkened. Maybe this wasn't DeShawn's man at all. Maybe this was someone trying to scam her—steal intel, or worse.
"Take him down," she ordered.
Her voice cracked like a whip.
One of her soldiers—a mountain of muscle wrapped in Militech armor—moved in instantly.
He reached for Neo's shoulder—
—and in the next instant, he was on the ground, face-first, limbs twisted at impossible angles.
The merc hadn't even turned around.
Neo sat down on the man's back as if settling into a chair, completely unbothered, his tone mild. "Ms. Stout, let's not start the night with bad manners."
He adjusted his coat. "Name's Neo. Or V. Either works."
There was something so casual in his tone it almost came off as arrogant. "You might not have heard of me yet. But you will."
"I'm here because that's what professionals do before a job—meet the client, clarify the mission. Nothing more."
Meredith's men froze, hands hovering near their weapons, but she didn't give the order.
Instead, she watched him closely. Then, with a small exhale, her demeanor changed. The mask of hostility shifted into something smoother—corporate, composed.
"Neo," she said, rolling his name on her tongue. "Alright. I'll remember that."
She straightened, stubbing her cigarette out on the car's armor plating. "Here's the situation. Our convoy was hijacked. That's not supposed to happen. Every Militech transport rolls with a security detail capable of taking down a small army. But somehow, Maelstrom managed it."
Her tone hardened. "That means someone on the inside leaked the route. An inside job. And if there's an insider, there's an outsider pulling the strings."
She nodded toward the man still groaning on the ground. "Hence the... interrogation."
Then, almost unexpectedly, she added, "Apologies for the misunderstanding. The paranoia comes with the job."
Neo didn't answer. They both knew that apology wasn't about remorse—it was about power.
She only said it because she'd realized he wasn't someone she could push around.
And he wasn't going to cheapen the moment by pretending otherwise.
He rose, brushing the dust off his coat. "I'll be heading into All Foods soon. Maelstrom's nest. Figure I'll have a little 'chat' with them about your missing prototype."
He looked at her. "What's Militech's move?"
Meredith's corporate instincts kicked in instantly. She pulled a credchip from her jacket—sleek, gold-edged, glimmering faintly with the Militech logo.
"You'll need leverage if you're going to 'chat.'" Her smile was tight and knowing. "That's your leverage. Money. Enough to make even Maelstrom pause before killing you."
Neo didn't take it right away. He smirked. "Ms. Stout, I don't touch corporate money. Comes with too many strings."
"This isn't corporate," she replied smoothly. "It's personal."
That got his attention.
He arched a brow, then finally reached out, taking the chip between two fingers. "In that case... we'll get along just fine."
He stood, nudging the groaning soldier with his boot as he turned to leave. "Pleasure doing business, Ms. Stout."
…
By the time he rejoined the team under the overpass, the others were already waiting—Rebecca sprawled on a concrete barrier, Jackie yawning, David fiddling with his pistol, and Lucy hunched over her deck.
Rebecca perked up immediately. "Finally! You were gone forever. I was about to die of boredom."
Jackie sniffed the air and squinted at him. "Hold up... is that perfume?"
Neo glanced at him. "What?"
Jackie grinned, elbowing David. "Smells like corpo perfume to me. Don't tell me you were off sweet-talking some suit, V."
Rebecca smirked. "What, you think our fearless comrade went on a date in the middle of a job?"
Neo said nothing—just gave a small, unreadable smile as he walked past them toward the car.
Jackie blinked. "...Wait. He's not denying it?"
Rebecca's jaw dropped. "You did meet a woman, didn't you?!"
Neo just started the engine.
"Buckle up," he said. "We've got chromeheads to kill."