"Forget it," Dexter snapped. "Where's the Relic? You got it, right?"
Neo said nothing. He placed the silver case on the grimy motel table with a quiet click.
Dexter lunged forward, hands trembling as he flipped it open.
Empty.
His face froze. "...What the hell is this?"
Then, his voice erupted, rising with every breath. "WHERE'S THE RELIC, CHOOM?!"
The rage hit him like a shockwave—his bulk trembling, fat shaking with fury. He turned beet red, veins bulging in his forehead. "You screwing with me?! You think this is funny?!"
Neo leaned back on the couch, calm as ever. "Relax. Sit down. I'll explain."
"Relax?!" Dexter barked, pacing like a caged animal. "I've lost everything! You tell me how the hell I'm supposed to relax!"
Neo sighed softly, eyes never leaving him. "Dex, come on. You're supposed to be one of Night City's top fixers. Stop acting like a kid."
That hit harder than a bullet.
Dexter blinked. The words sank in like a blade of ice. Supposed to be.
He almost laughed at the absurdity. "Top fixer," he muttered bitterly. "Yeah. Not anymore."
Everything he'd built—his reputation, his connections, his safe houses, his clients—it all crumbled the moment Saburo Arasaka died. Every corp agent in the city would be gunning for him now, every bounty hunter sniffing for a payday.
All because of this man sitting calmly before him.
He'd fled to this filthy motel, clutching his last few eddies, hoping for one final miracle. But the case was empty.
And this man had the audacity to tell him not to lose his cool.
Something in Dexter's brain snapped.
"Fuck this!"
He slammed his massive fist into the wall, shattering a cheap holo-display into sparks.
That was the signal.
The bathroom door burst open. A goon stepped out, gun blazing.
BANG!
But Neo didn't even flinch. His body shimmered faintly as both Observation Haki and Armament Haki flared at once—observation predicting the bullet's arc, armament coating his skin in invisible armor.
He raised his left hand lazily. Tink. The bullet landed in his palm.
Then—
BANG!
He flicked it back. The projectile pierced through the goon's forehead, exploding out the back with a splash of red, white, and shredded chrome.
Neo didn't even stand.
"Dex," he said quietly. "I hate when people point guns at me. Those who do, never get to do it twice."
Dexter froze mid-breath.
"Wait, Neo, listen—"
Snap.
Neo flicked his fingers. A pulse of Armament haki rippled through the room, slamming Dexter's 300-pound body into the wall like a fly caught in amber. He struggled, gasping, unable to move.
Neo rose from the couch, his expression cold. "You probably didn't finish watching the N54 broadcast, did you?"
Dexter stammered, "Wh-what?"
"Saburo Arasaka's dead, yeah," Neo said. "But he wasn't the only one."
He took a slow step forward. "Adam Smasher's gone too."
The fixer's eyes widened. "You… you're kidding…"
Neo smiled faintly. "No joke. He's the one I did kill."
Dexter broke. His arrogance, his greed—everything melted into raw panic. "I-I was wrong, man! I'm sorry! Please—don't kill me! I'll give you everything I have! My accounts, my safehouses—"
Neo shook his head. "If that thug in the bathroom hadn't pulled the trigger, I might've let you live. But no—choices have consequences."
He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen.
Lucy's virus activated.
In less than a blink, Dexter's behavior chip burned out. Sparks burst from his temple. His body convulsed violently—then slumped, gasping.
Neo calmly pressed a call. "Lucy, it's done. He's down. You can move in."
Her voice came through smooth and detached. "Copy that. Want me to sever his Trauma Team ID?"
"Yeah," Neo replied. "Break the uplink. If his biometrics ping Trauma Team, they'll revive him—and that's a headache I don't need."
He glanced at the silver case lying by the bed. "Also, you saw where I left the relic box, right? Good. When Arasaka's agents sweep this dump, they'll see DeShaun's corpse, the empty case, and think he tried to run with it. Let them chase ghosts."
He hung up.
Behind him, Dexter DeShaun's breathing went shallow, then stopped altogether.
Maybe his heart gave out from the shock. Maybe the words killed him faster than the virus. Either way, it didn't matter.
By the time Neo left the motel, Lucy had already hijacked Dexter's bio-module. Every eddie, every crypto wallet, every black-market contact now belonged to him.
Neo stepped out into the cool night, humming softly under his breath. "Easy money."
...
Watson District — Edgerunners Hideout
Later that night, laughter filled the warehouse. The Edgerunner crew had gathered around a long metal table, piled with stolen liquor and sizzling street food.
Neo sat at the center seat—Lucy on his left, Rebecca on his right.
Rebecca kept piling food into his bowl like an overeager puppy. Lucy, not to be outdone, followed suit.
Within minutes, Neo's bowl looked like a neon tower of chaos. He sweatdropped, watching their silent competition escalate.
Rebecca leaned closer, pouting. "Why aren't you eating, huh?"
Lucy echoed, calm but challenging. "Yes, Neo. Why not?"
He exhaled slowly, halfway between amusement and despair.
Across the table, Jackie looked from Lucy to Rebecca to Neo, then down at his own plate. His grin faded. "Suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore."
David, oblivious, kept shoveling noodles into his mouth with both hands. "This is great! Did someone add extra spice?"
Jackie groaned. "Kid… you don't even know what you're missing."
Maine chuckled and leaned toward Dorio, scooping a bit of food into her plate. "Eat up. Gotta keep your strength."
Dorio blinked, surprised. "You? Romantic?"
"Not romantic," Maine said with a grin. "Just learning."
For the first time in a long time, he realized he was smiling. Really smiling.
After years of blood, steel, and loss, they were sitting together—not in battle, not running from danger—but sharing a meal, alive.
Neo looked around the table. Lucy's eyes gleamed in the warm light; Rebecca was laughing so hard she almost spilled her drink. Jackie's booming laughter filled the room, and David's grin stretched wide.
And for that brief, fragile moment—beneath the flickering lights of Watson—Neo thought to himself,
Maybe this is what peace looks like.