Disposable Pawn?

"Reid."

Facing the former Intelligence Bureau ace who had appeared like a ghost, 'Disposable Pawn' in hand, Kurt Hansen's eyes flashed with barely detectable surprise before it was buried beneath deeper gloom.

Reid's appearance had been beyond his expectations, though not entirely incomprehensible.

He had anticipated that New America might attempt a decapitation strike, but he had not expected their infiltration to be so swift, so precise.

No wonder he was considered the Morgan Blackhand among agents. In present-day Night City, perhaps only the KK Squad could compare to such ability.

"What an... unexpected visitor." Hansen's voice was low, betraying no panic. He turned slightly, half-shielding the utterly weakened Song Zhaomei with his body. That subtle motion made Reid's grip on Disposable Pawn tighten. "A homeless dog from the Intelligence Bureau actually dared to barge in alone. Was this your president's order, or..."

Hansen had noticed Reid's concern for Songbird, and he recalled the intelligence he had gathered.

Within the Intelligence Bureau, Songbird had been Reid's personally trained protégé.

So now...

"You want to take Songbird away from me?"

As Hansen placed Songbird before him and spoke with a faint warning in his tone, Albert Murphy, standing guard nearby, raised his weapon almost simultaneously. The icy muzzle aimed steadily at Reid, and the air throughout the corridor instantly froze.

Reid's gaze passed over Murphy in front of him and locked onto Song Zhaomei's unfocused eyes. Seeing what she had become, a fire of guilt and fury burned in his chest.

Yet as a professional agent, he did not reveal those emotions. He merely repeated himself, his voice colder than before. "Hansen, hand over Song Zhaomei. This is your last chance."

Hearing that, Hansen caught a particular implication. A faint curve formed at his lips. "Last chance? Reid, you still do